Vampires Need Not…Apply? (Accidentally Yours #4)(17)
Author: Mimi Jean Pamfiloff

A muffled moan filtered through the door. Caray. Had the man been injured? Antonio turned the doorknob and pushed open the door. “Do you need help?”

Dammit. He couldn’t see shit. The man might be a foot away, bleeding to death, and Antonio wouldn’t even know.

“Hello?” He stepped inside and tried to listen for any sound.

Nothing, dammit. When would his Spidey hearing kick in? Wasn’t his body supposed to compensate for his lost sight? Dios, he sucked at everything, didn’t he?

The door slammed shut behind him. “Who the f**k are you?” asked a deep, ominous voice.

Antonio’s heart pounded furiously inside his chest. “I’m your neighbor. I heard a crash and…” Santa Maria! “It smells like blood.”

“I punched the wall and cut open my hand.” The voice had moved in front of him.

This guy sounded crazier than he was. “Bueno, I see you are alive and breathing, so I’ll be on my way.”

A firm hand pushed him away from the door.

“What the f**k?” Antonio extended his hands defensively, but the man seemed to be everywhere all at once.

“Listen, coño,” Antonio said, dropping his arms, “if you want to kill me, you’d probably be doing me a favor, but make it quick.”

He felt the man’s hot breath on his face right before his sunglasses were torn away. Antonio knew he had no use of his eyes, yet he couldn’t break the urge to open them and strain to see what was happening.

“Your aura is too bright,” said the man. “I can’t kill you. Guess it’s your lucky day.”

Right. Lucky. My day has been a giant pinche shamrock. “I would not call it that.”

“Mine neither,” the man grumbled.

“Sorry to hear that.” You pinche psychopath. “If you’re not going to kill me and you’re not dying, I’m going back to my apartment to drink myself into a stupor.”

“Stay. I will pour you a scotch.”

“No, gracias. I think—”

“I said, ‘Stay.’Relax. This is what you want.” Something in the man’s voice compelled him to obey. Ironically, the sensation felt far more unnerving than being threatened physically.

“If you insist,” Antonio replied reluctantly. What the hell is going on?

The man grabbed him by the arm and dragged him across the room. Caray, what a f**king grip this man had.

“Sit,” the man commanded. “I will return in a moment.”

Antonio’s body obeyed, but his mind clicked back and forth between caged-animal panic and an artificial complacency.

Keep your cool. Get him to let his guard down and then run for the door…

The man returned promptly with a cool-to-the-touch, smooth glass tumbler.

Antonio took a whiff. Single malt scotch. Very fine. “Macallan 1926?” Antonio asked.

“You have a good nose.”

“I learned to drink scotch in my late teens; wanted to piss off my father, who happens to be a vintner.” And possibly the most vile son of a bitch on the face of the planet.

The man laughed. “A very expensive rebellion.”

Scotch had only been the beginning of a lifelong pursuit to reject everything his father stood for. If it was the last thing Antonio did, he’d beat his father—and by beat, he meant kill.

“These days my tastes have humbled,” Antonio said. “I’m a big fan of Belgian whites. In fact, I have a six-pack in the fridge if you’d like to try—”

“You will stay and relax,” the man commanded.

The anxiety instantly drained from Antonio’s body. “Yes, I’d like that.” I think.

Again the man laughed. “Good. So, you are my neighbor,” he said.

“Yes. I am Antonio Acero.”

“Kinich. Nice to meet you. So, tell me more about this bad luck,” Kinich said.

“Why?” Antonio never discussed his problems with anyone. What good would it f**king do? They’d either think him crazy or… well, f**king crazy. Nor could anyone help him. So no f**king thanks.

“If it’s worse than mine,” Kinich replied, “it might make me feel better.” He added in that strange, deep voice, “I insist.”

Antonio took a large swallow of the smooth, smoky liquid. Oddly, he felt the gripping urge to tell the crazy man everything.

But will he believe you? Antonio’s situation exceeded the boundaries of sanity and defied every law of the universe. It was the reason he’d left home at his first chance. It was the reason he’d studied quantum physics. It was the reason nothing mattered more than proving alternate dimensions existed.

Of course, proof seemed like the illusive pot of gold at the end of a rainbow until two months ago when a colleague—as a joke—sent him an article about the Mayans and time travel. The legends spoke of a sacred tablet, and with it, they’d traveled the stars, saw the future, and eventually returned home to share their wealth of knowledge. The Mayans then constructed pyramids, complex irrigation systems, and a calendar more accurate than what was used today.

However, the Mayan holy men, knowing the danger of time travel and dimensional exploration, kept this knowledge close to the vest. Only their high priests and kings ever knew of the existence of the tablets. And it was said that when the Spanish arrived, it was Fray Diego de Landa who discovered their secrets and witnessed their powers firsthand. Yes, the Fray Diego de Landa. Infamous Franciscan monk who led the Mexican inquisition and subjected the indigenous population to violent forms of torture in the name of Christianity. He burnt every shred of paper, including the sacred codices, and destroyed every tablet he could get his “holy” hands on. No one understood his violent, bloody rampage of destruction, but if he had indeed seen the tablets open a portal to another world, one could easily guess why a monk of that day and age would believe it to be the devil’s magic.

Luckily, however, not everything had been destroyed. A few precious historical documents survived along with the record of one remaining tablet that had been hidden from the Spaniards, kept safe all these centuries somewhere near the border of Belize.

“I am waiting,” said Kinich.

Antonio felt an odd pressure inside his head, compelling him to speak. “It all started when I went to Mexico to find an artifact I’d been searching for. A tablet. I didn’t believe it would be there, but the f**king thing practically hopped in my lap—as if it was looking for me,” Antonio said.