Vampires Need Not…Apply? (Accidentally Yours #4)(36)
Author: Mimi Jean Pamfiloff

Antonio cleared his throat.

Kinich glanced at Antonio. “Are you still here? Shouldn’t you be looking for a place to hide, vampire?”

“Do I want to ask why?” Antonio groaned.

Without pausing from her ogling, Penelope replied, “Aside from being the bringer of self-imposed death, Ixtab is also known as Ninlil, Xochipili, Xilonen, Inguma, though the Basque thought she was a he, and—”

“You’ve been studying, my little Sun Goddess.” Kinich beamed at Penelope.

All these—oh, hell, what did Americans call it?—goo-goo eyes were making him sick.

“Yep. I’m finally on the book of Inuit, Akych,” she said.

“Very good. Yes. Akych is the name for Sun God.”

“Would you two stop with the incessant mutual admiration and tell me why I need to hide? It was an accident. I didn’t mean to hurt her.”

Kinich laughed and released Penelope. “That will not matter. A weaker, lesser being killing a deity in his or her immortal form is akin to giving a public bitch slap.”

Weaker? Lesser?

“Like all deities,” Kinich continued, “Ixtab’s Achilles’ heel is her ego. But her anger is by far her biggest flaw. Unfortunately for you—and the rest of us—she is the goddess in charge of happiness, flowers, natural seasoning, sport, winds, grain—”

“That doesn’t sound so terrible. In fact, those sound very nice.” And explains why she smells so great.

“And,” Kinich added, “nightmares, strangulation, hangings, and toothaches. Fate was the last person to kill Ixtab by accident. And her return brought with it five days of global windstorms; three months of every game around the planet ending in a tie—the Germans and Latin Americans almost lost their minds; a plague of horrible toothaches and nightmares; a shortage of cardamom and cloves—the people in India and the UK were very unhappy without their curry; and the disappearance of daisies for an entire decade.”

Antonio scratched his unshaven jaw. “Not that I wish the world to be afflicted with the absence of a Super Bowl winner or subjected to flavorless dishes, but that doesn’t sound so devastating.”

Devastating was that he’d hurt—estúpido!—killed Ixtab. Killed her while she was doing that thing to him with her body and driving him mad in the most sexual of ways. Accidental or not, it was a terrible feeling. And there was nothing he could do about it.

Ironic. Ixtab was just telling you this is why she wears a veil.

And you mocked her, didn’t you, coño?

Pinche karma.

“I said,” Kinich clarified, “that’s what happened the last time she died. The time before that, she’s been refereeing an arm-wrestling match between K’ak and Belch at the edge of a volcano. The two had been fighting over a small misunderstanding having to do with a llama.”

Did he want to know?

No. He really, really didn’t.

“And so,” Kinich said, “the gods demanded they settle their dispute according to our laws.”

Arm wrestling at the edge of a f**king volcano?

“But Belch stumbled, ran into Ixtab, and she fell in.” Kinich shook his head. “Not one flower bloomed in the Western Hemisphere that year. And without flowers, no food. It was one of the worst famines ever to hit the planet.”

“I thought the gods couldn’t harm us humans?” Antonio asked.

“Not on purpose,” Penelope pointed out. “And don’t forget, you’re not human anymore.”

Dios mío. Antonio dropped his head into his hands. “It was a goddamned accident.”

“Don’t worry,” Penelope said. “She won’t kill you—yet—because you’re too important to mankind, but she will make you and everyone else suffer.” Penelope cleared her throat. “As Ruler of the House of Gods, I order you to grovel. Immortal-style. Maybe you can defuse the situation.”

Kinich chuckled. “Immortal-style! You really have been studying.” He kissed her hard. “I love the way you take charge, woman. You’re going to make an excellent mother. And it is so goddamned sexy.”

“Thank you.” Penelope glowed.

“What am I missing?” Antonio did not like the sound of this “immortal groveling.”

“We keep a plane at the airport,” Penelope said. “You should make it to Bacalar in time to meet Ixtab at the cenote.”

“Why the diablo do I need to go to a cenote? And what the diablo is immortal groveling?” he asked.

“While most cenotes are merely ancient Mayan pools,” Penelope replied, “some are portals of the gods. They are also where a deity’s light is sent when they lose their mortal shell. From there, a deity can go back to the gods’ realm or decide to regenerate another body. I’m pretty sure Ixtab’s going to opt for the new body to kick your ass. Get packing, and I’ll have the instructions for immortal groveling ready on the plane.”

“What about the tablet? And my work?” Antonio asked.

“He’s right,” Kinich said, “we cannot afford to lose time.”

“He’ll have to bring it with him,” Penelope decided. “We can have the Uchben set up his lab and a secured communication line at Niccolo’s villa on the lake. It’s only a few miles from Ixtab’s favorite cenote.”

Again, Kinich glowed with male pride. “I am the luckiest male on the planet to have such an intelligent woman so well versed in the ways of our world. Niccolo’s is a perfect place to grovel.”

“It is also helpful that Ixtab and Antonio will be removed from any large populations—in case she loses her temper,” Penelope added.

Santa Maria.

Chapter Veinte

“Save me, Antonio. You must hurry. Time is almost out.”

“I’m trying, but I can’t find you.” Antonio scoured the empty, dark room with his hands. “Please, tell me who you are.”

“You cannot allow distractions to come between us, Antonio, between our destiny,” the woman’s angry voice echoed in his head. “You must stay away from the goddess.”

“I don’t understand. Why?”

“I speak the truth.” Two wide eyes the color of a tropical ocean plowed through his mind. “Even the stars and the moon know I speak the truth—”

Antonio’s lids flew open, and he braced himself on the arms of the airplane seat.