Vampires Need Not…Apply? (Accidentally Yours #4)(66)
Author: Mimi Jean Pamfiloff

Antonio suddenly caught a mental whiff of something delicious. “Hmmm…” There standing on other side of the bars, where Emma had just been sitting, was an elderly woman in a blue jumpsuit. Her head had been shaved and her skin looked like it had been scrubbed raw. Her black-and-red eyes drilled into him and he couldn’t resist licking his lips.

Emma flashed a glance over her shoulder. “Are you drooling over my grandmother?”

He nodded yes.

Emma hissed. “Seriously?”

“Emma’s grandmother is a Maaskab,” Penelope explained. “We’re holding her until the next summit meeting so we can discuss a cure for her.”

“Hey! Hey! Over here! You’re late!”

“Ah. There’s Cimil,” Penelope said with contempt. “I’ll be right back, Emma. Wish us luck…” She gave Emma a quick hug and whispered, “It will all be over soon.”

Would it be? He wasn’t so sure.

Antonio and Penelope followed Kinich to a large cell in the corner.

Cimil stood on the other side of a thick glass window, waving. She wore hot-pink pajama pants and a pink bathrobe. Her flaming-red hair was pulled into pigtails. Hannibal Lecter had nothing on her.

“Can I just say, for starters”—Cimil pulled up a giant fluffy beanbag chair and plopped down right in front of the window—“this is the best vacay ever! I love winning stuff.”

Penelope, Kinich, and Antonio exchanged glances. She couldn’t be serious. Could she?

“Cimil,” Kinich said with a stern warning in his voice, “we need to talk, so cut the shit.”

Cimil popped open her robe and flashed her T-shirt: “Shit is my middle name. Except on Wednesdays when I speak Klingon, then it’s baktag.”

“Funny, Cimil. Very funny.” Kinich placed his palms against the glass and leaned in. “What do you want?”

Cimil smiled, her bright turquoise eyes twinkling. “Moi? Want something? You came to see me. So what do you want?”

Kinich narrowed his eyes.

“Well, I suppose I do want something,” she said. “A new pony would be nice. Roberto drank mine; he thought it was an offering. I’d also like world peace. Or whirled peas. Either-or. Both are fun. And then there’s that little matter of—”

“Enough!” Antonio could take no more. “If you say one more ridiculous, f**king thing, so help me, I will break through this glass and pluck out your eyes.”

Cimil sprang from her beanbag chair, clapping with excitement. “Oh! Pluck, Pluck, Eyeball is my favorite game!” She looked at Penelope. “It’s like Duck, Duck, Goose… but with eyeballs!”

Antonio slammed his fist into the glass, but it bounced right off. He’d kill this deity if it was the last thing he did.

“Don’t waste your strength, Antonio,” said Kinich. “The glass in these cells are deity reinforced—unbreakable.”

“But Cimil is a deity. Can’t she use her powers to get out?”

“The cells are also warded. No energy can permeate the cell. Nothing gets in or out.” He pointed to a small speaker embedded in the wall to the side of the glass. “Not even sound; we use an intercom system.”

I guess it’s her lucky day, then.

“Cimil,” Penelope said sweetly, “please? I’m sure you already know why we’re here. So what do you really want?”

Cimil froze; her face, expression, and eyes went blank.

Penelope snapped her fingers. “Cimil? Hello?”

Cimil’s eyes moved to Antonio. “I’m not going to help you with the demon.”

Antonio growled. “Why the hell not?”

Penelope touched Antonio’s arm signaling for him to give her a chance. “Cimil, we know you must want something. So spit it out,” she said.

Cimil’s gaze was nearly catatonic. “I want a fair trial.”

“And what do we get in exchange?” Antonio asked.

“Nothing. I will not help you with the demon.”

“Why not?” Penelope asked.

“Because you don’t need my help. You simply need to choose.”

Antonio felt the blood drain from his face. “Do you mean I have to choose between Ixtab or my brother’s life?”

“Or perhaps your own.” Cimil winked and sat down in her chair, her gaze utterly vegetative.

Penelope snapped her fingers again. “Cimil? Cimil?” She looked at Kinich and shrugged.

“Gods dammit, answer me!” Antonio demanded.

“She’s done talking,” Kinich said and pulled him back.

“What the hell do you mean, ‘She’s done talking’? I’m not done.” No, he was just getting started. “Open that f**king cell.”

Kinich flashed his palms. “Trust me, if I believed letting you take a few bites out of Cimil would help the situation, I’d let you in there. But she is a deity.”

“So that means she does not need to pay for her crimes?” Cimil had lured him to the tablet and the tablet had taken away Ixtab.

“No, Antonio, it means she’s immortal and there’s nothing you can do to harm her. She will get what she deserves. The gods will see to that,” Kinich said, his turquoise eyes turning to a deep, dark gray.

Cimil mumbled, “Everyone will get what they deserve.”

What the hell did that mean?

Antonio ran his hands through his hair. This was going nowhere fast and he was no closer to getting Ixtab free. Perhaps it was time to take matters into his own hands.

No more Mr. Nice-ubus. Or was that… Mr. Nice-u-pire?

* * *

“What the hell are you doing here?” Maggie hissed through the open doorway, holding a fresh towel to her body.

“Relax. I only came to talk,” Antonio said.

“I’m done talking. At least until it’s time to free Chaam.” She pushed the door closed.

“Wait.” He wedged his foot in the crack. “Please… I am.” Qué joder. “I. Am. Begging you.”

Margaret stared up at him for a few moments and then sighed. “All right. Come in.”

“Thank you.”

Margaret disappeared through the bathroom doorway without a word.

Antonio entered the spacious bedroom and sat down in the small sitting area in the corner.

“Everything here”—she emerged from the bathroom wearing a robe and a towel on her head—“is incredible. Did you know they have a computer screen in the bathroom that can play music, control the temperature of your bathwater, give a weather forecast, and make phone calls?”