Vampires Need Not…Apply? (Accidentally Yours #4)(65)
Author: Mimi Jean Pamfiloff

Chapter Treinta

Antonio waffled between fury and panic as the powerful yet clearly insane deities debated what to do next. It seemed that Cimil was an excellent chess player, but by no means was this checkmate.

“We must strike a deal with Cimil.”

“No. No deals.”

“Then let the demon out. We’ll catch up with him later.”

Their words flew through the air so quickly that Antonio had a difficult time keeping up with the conversation. One deity would start a sentence, another would finish. They went around and around like an angry pair of cats.

“Stop!” Antonio barked. “If you let my father out, he will need a new host. That host will be my brother. Not acceptable.”

Penelope, who seemed to be the calmest out of the group, stood and paced at the back of the room. “I will talk to Cimil and see what she wants in exchange for her help with the demon.”

“No,” Bees said. “Her crimesss are unforgivable. No dealsss; this is what she wants.”

Penelope held out her hand. “I know. But we’re talking Cimil here. Maybe all she wants is a chocolate chip cookie or a ride on her unicorn.”

“Good point,” said Bees.

“I agree,” Fate said. “Let’s see what she wants.”

“I want to be there,” said Antonio. His father could not be allowed out and Ixtab had to be saved. If Cimil was the only one who could make this happen, he sure as hell wouldn’t leave the job of convincing her up to this wackypack.

“Are you still here, vamp-ubus?” Fate scowled at Antonio.

“Vamp-ubus?” asked Antonio.

“Incu-pire, then?” Fate offered.

Antonio simply stared.

“Well, I must call you something, and vampire slash incubus is much too lengthy,” Fate explained.

“How about Antonio, for f**k sake,” Antonio growled. These deities were unbelievable. How had Ixtab remained sane living with them all these centuries?

Fate glanced at the ceiling, pondering. “Antonio Forfucksake? I don’t get it.”

“Enough!” Antonio screamed. “My woman’s life is on the line. Can you people—deities, what f**king ever—please focus?”

Bees chuckled. “Do all Spaniards swear so much? You put the Demilords to shame.”

“Wait,” Fate asked, gasping. “Your woman? You mean Ixtab?”

“Are you deaf?” Antonio replied. “Yes. Ixtab is mine. Does this present an issue for you?”

“Oh!” Penelope squealed. “Congratulations, Antonio. I knew it would work out for you two.”

Fate grumbled something about vampires being disgusting.

Kinich cleared his throat. “Eh-hem.”

“Fate,” Penelope said, narrowing her eyes, “I’ve always wanted to say this: stop being such a bitch and shut your pie hole.” Penelope grabbed Kinich’s hand and kissed his cheek. “I love you.” She looked at Antonio. “And you are very welcome to listen in when we talk to Cimil.”

Antonio bowed his head. “Thank you. I hope this mess doesn’t get any more complicated.”

“You havvven’t been arounnnd very long”—Belch chuckled—“havvve you?” He raised his glass into the air. “’Cause you haven’t seen anything yet.”

* * *

After a short drive back to the Uchben base, where the plane had landed earlier, Penelope and Kinich took Antonio to a small building toward the edge of the compound. For the most part, it looked like your everyday administrative office—lobby, glass conference rooms, cubicles—with the exception of one thing: two large soldiers with automatic rifles standing on either side of an elevator bank toward the back.

Antonio felt his ears pop when they reached the negative twentieth floor—twenty stories belowground.

“What is this place?” he asked.

The elevator doors slid open, and they stepped out into a dark hallway lit with red lights.

“This is where our operations are housed,” Kinich explained. “There’s a control center; a bunker large enough to house tens of thousands of people if needed; a hospital, training facilities, and, of course, weapons.”

“Don’t forget the mall, honey,” Penelope added. “And the restaurants—Oh, if you’re into beer there’s a great pub. They have a thousand different beers.”

“Some other time perhaps,” Antonio replied politely. He wondered if they had any fare of his liking. A nice Maaskab or two to suck the life out of; he was getting a little hungry.

“This way.” Kinich gestured toward a set of doors with a keypad on one side. He punched in the numbers and the door clicked. “This, of course, is the back entrance to the underground complex. We keep the holding cells separate from everything else.”

Antonio entered what looked to be a rather large prison block with three tiers of cells on all sides, overlooking a caged guard station in the middle of the ground floor. Armed men in black were posted in every corner. “How many prisoners are in here?”

“Right now,” Penelope said, “about a hundred. This is where we keep detainees until we decide what to do with them—rehabilitate, put on trial, or, in the case of Belch, keep him confined until he promises to put his pants back on. He once spent a month in here.”

Kinich chuckled. “He never was a fan of clothing.”

This was a very odd, odd group of beings.

“Hi, guys.”

All three turned and saw a young redheaded woman sitting outside a cell.

“Emma!” Penelope embraced the woman who looked like she’d seen better days—deep circles under her eyes, hollow cheeks, and a melancholy smile. “This in Antonio Acero. Antonio, this is Emma Keane; her fiancé is Guy Santiago, also known as Votan, the God of Death and War.”

They shook hands briefly, and now more than ever he felt the sting of being unable to open the portal and rescue the trapped men. “I’m sorry about the situation and not being able to free your fiancé—”

“It’s all right, Antonio. Penelope already told me everything Maggie said. I know we were barking up the wrong tree.” Emma spoke as though she’d already lost hope.

Penelope reached out and held her hand. “We’ll get him back, I promise. In fact, that’s why we’re here.” Her eyes flashed toward the cell in the far corner.

Emma looked like she understood. “Good luck with that.”