Vampires Need Not…Apply? (Accidentally Yours #4)(53)
Author: Mimi Jean Pamfiloff

“I understand why you might be angry with me,” he said, “but know, after you ‘killed’ me, I couldn’t not come to you and reveal myself even though this is what I wanted. I loved you—I still love you. And Cimil promised if I did as she asked and remained patient, this joyous day would come.”

“This day? As in… our happy reunion?” Ick, ick, ick… is he serious?

He nodded eagerly. “Yes. Fate has brought us together, Ixtab. And now it is time for us to be happy.”

“But you drain the life from young women for food. Sometimes you screw them as an appetizer. Why would I want to be with you?”

“Oh, now,” he replied. Hack, hack, gurgle. “Is it really so terrible that I enjoy the pleasures of the flesh or that I must feed to survive? You didn’t seem to even notice before.”

Ixtab gasped. Oh, gods, what a damned fool she’d been! The day before she killed Francisco—errr—killed the possessed Francisco, she’d gone with him to a convent to visit the sick. She’d thought Francisco had been comforting those poor dying souls when in fact he’d been sucking the lives from them to feed. How could she not have noticed what was going on?

Perhaps because you were so desperate for love that you didn’t want to see it. She had been just as lonely then as she was now.

“I love you for who you are, my dear g-g-goddess.” Hack, gurgle. “I have no delusions of your sainthood and know every one of your dirty little secrets.” He whispered, “I even know the name of every male you’ve killed—by accident, of course.”

“How?”

“I’ve kept an eye on you all these years, waiting for this day. And know, I do not look down upon you. I never could; you and I are alike. We both kill because it is in our nature, our role in the Universe.”

How dare he say that! Ixtab wanted to punch the old, shriveled goat in his decrepit face. “I don’t enjoy hurting people like you do—Okay, the evil bastards, yes. They’re super fun to kill. But not the others.”

Ixtab’s mind circulated around the multitude of loose strings while the conversation played out. She knew there was so, so, so much more to this story. First, this evil bastard was about to die. So that meant he’d be going to a new body, preferably a male one. Antonio or his brother Franco.

Oh no.

She needed to think this through carefully. Very carefully. Time to retreat and regroup. “I have to go.”

“Are you coming back?” he asked.

She pressed her hands to her temples. “I-I don’t know.”

“Just answer me this, Ixtab. Why are you here? Why, after all this time, has fate brought us together again?”

Because you are a disgusting pig, your time has come to pay for your crimes, and this goddess has got your number?

“Enlighten me?” she replied sweetly.

“The Universe led you to the tablet and my son. He led you to me. We are meant to be.”

Think carefully. Show nothing.

She nodded slowly. “I’ve been suffering for two centuries because of your death and now I find you alive. It’s a bit overwhelming. I need time to think.” She turned to leave and reached for the door. “By the way, when will you make the change to your new body?”

“My heart grows weaker by the moment. Not long now. And then I will be young and strong again.”

And likely looking for your next demon baby momma. “One question. Why wait until your body gives out? I mean, why not just kill yourself and do it sooner?” Because… ick! He looked awful—patches of missing hair, dark spots on his skin, hazed-over irises. Not that she cared, but surely he did.

He shook his crooked, wrinkled finger in the air. “You always were smart, my dear Ixtab.”

Was that a string of drool flowing from the corner of his mouth?

Vampires rock. Reason number two: they never get old and drool on themselves.

“Cimil advised,” he explained, “I would meet my demise if I took any shortcuts. My death must be due to natural or supernatural causes.”

Interesting… “And what happens to your son when you take his body?”

The old demon shrugged. “His soul goes… out.” He flicked his wrist casually, as if he didn’t know and didn’t care.

Vampires rock. Reason number three: they don’t eject people’s souls from their bodies and take them over like horrible parasitic extraterrestrials.

Ixtab’s plastic cackle bounced off the walls. “Of course. Stupid mortal souls—they are so weak and disgusting. Who cares what happens to them?” Ixtab was extremely grateful for her veil because it hid the panic in her eyes. This had to be a dream.

Dreams only happen to mortals. You, my dear goddess, have just had your entire reality chewed on and spit out like a flavorless wad of gum.

Chapter Veinticinco

Panting, Ixtab found Antonio sitting on a bench in the garden, gazing pensively at the cloudless night. “Oh, thank heavens! Kirstie said I’d find you here.” Ixtab took a seat beside him. “At least I think she was talking to me. It could’ve been the wall. It’s hard to tell which eye is her good one. And why does she always smell like borscht?”

“You came out here to talk about the maid’s wandering eye and her addiction to beets?” Antonio’s gaze didn’t waver from the starlit sky.

“No. I came out for this…” Ixtab socked him three times in the arm, but it had zero impact. “Why didn’t you tell me your father is el Trauco, Latin America’s most infamous incubus?”

“And that would have changed… what?” he said calmly.

“Well, well… we could’ve—I’m not sure.”

“Exactamente. It would’ve changed nothing. Killing or locking him away solves nothing.”

“That’s why you were looking for the tablet, wasn’t it?” she asked.

He nodded yes.

Of course, he wanted to get rid of the demon and send him far, far away to another dimension, and the tablet was the key.

Oh, gods. “You should have told me.” Ixtab shook her head.

“This is my fight,” he said coldly. “No one else’s.”

“You couldn’t be more godsdamned wrong. This mess started long before you were even born.”

“Doesn’t matter when it started, or by whom, because I’m going to finish it.” He looked at Ixtab and the rage in his eyes made her do a double take. Pita chips! That sure is one hell of a peeved vampire! She could only imagine the horrible things Antonio had been subjected to. Poor, poor man.