Vampires Need Not…Apply? (Accidentally Yours #4)(7)
Author: Mimi Jean Pamfiloff

Interesting… How had this tablet existed without the gods’ knowledge? Ixtab wondered.

“You are not getting anywhere near it,” Zac stated coldly. “So do not think of proposing to do so.”

Pen glared at him and then looked at Ixtab. “That’s where you come in.”

Me? They need me? Ixtab felt her spine straighten a little. “How?”

Penelope threw down the file. “Meet Dr. Antonio Acero. World-renowned physicist from MIT, heir to Spain’s wealthiest family, current owner of the tablet, and the only being on the planet capable of unlocking it. That we know of.”

“Why does he possessss the tablet?” Bees asked, blowing kisses to a tiny bee on the tip of her finger.

Penelope’s mouth twisted with disgust as she watched. “We don’t know how he got it, but we think he’s trying to make a name for himself in the scientific community. Unfortunately, he refuses to work with us and money won’t entice him. Neither will threats. Everyone who’s attempted contact says he’s stubborn, arrogant, and rude. Anyway, Helena and her vampires have been keeping close tabs on him. They were about to resort to glamouring him, but something happened during an experiment and he triggered an explosion. The good news is he’ll live. Bad news is he lost his sight.”

All heads swiveled toward Ixtab.

“Why are you looking at me? I can’t cure blindness,” she said.

“Mr. Acero’s physician,” Penelope explained, “is one of our undercover Uchben. She suspects his condition has something to do with the tablet’s dark energy and may be reversible. In the meantime, he’s extremely… unhappy and refusing to continue his work.”

“So you want me to fix him?” Ixtab asked, wondering if he deserved saving. Accident aside, he didn’t sound like a very nice person. In fact, he sounded like a snobby, rich playboy who might deserve the hand he’d gotten.

“Can you do it, Ixtab?” Penelope asked.

Ixtab scratched her forehead through the itchy veil. She hated toying with anything Maaskab. Their power was based on dark energy, which was highly unstable and unpredictable. Yet absorbing bad juju and saving humans was her gift. Yes, yes, she also dished the bad juju, but curing those in need was always her first priority.

“Ixtab? Can you?” Penelope asked again.

“Of course, she cannn! She’sss like a giant rrrechargeable battery,” Belch slurred.

“Ixtab, if you’d like my two cents”—Fate spoke with a casualness that insinuated some sort of authority—“it is too dangerous. And we all know you are not brave or useful in situations of peril. You should not risk it.”

Ixtab glared at Fate. Even her outfit—a little white pleated dress and white knee-high moccasins—was annoyingly prissy. Damned goody-goody, always trying to put everyone down.

Ixtab lifted her chin. “I’m game.”

“So am I. Wanna see?” Belch stood and stretched his seven feet of inebriated male mass, showing everyone his thong, which now looked like a little transparent tent. He was clearly having a special, special moment with himself.

“You’re disgusting,” Bees hissed and fired her yellow samurai at his exposed butt cheeks.

“Deities! Please focus!” Penelope barked.

Belch plopped back into his seat, too drunk to notice the bees plunging their stingers into his body.

Penelope winced. “Uh… Thank you, Suici—I mean Ixtab. That’s very generous.”

Ixtab bowed her head. It was the first time she could ever remember being asked to do something important like this.

“Thank you. Here’s the information you’ll need.” Penelope slid the folder toward Ixtab.

Ixtab opened it and felt her insides curl into a heavy knot. No. It can’t be. He looks like… Francisco. The entire room wobbled beneath her. The man had the same dark hair—though the short, mussed style was quite different—olive-green eyes, and deep, deliciously tanned Mediterranean skin. And like Francisco, he was the most exquisite mortal she’d ever laid eyes on.

But it wasn’t Francisco, because Francisco died long ago. Yes, she’d seen to that, hadn’t she? This… Antonio was simply a look-alike. A genetic anomaly. Those happened, right? Yes. Come to think of it, she’d once seen a dead ringer for Elvis walking down the street. A dead ringer. So close, in fact, that if she hadn’t had firsthand knowledge of Elvis’s fate, she would have asked for his autograph or an imprint of his sideburns.

“He sure izzzz delicious,” Bees said, staring at the headshot.

“He kinda looks like an older, tanned Zac Efron,” Penelope blurted.

“I’d make him my lucky one,” added Fate.

Ixtab swallowed the sticky glob of dread and centuries of baggage stuck in her throat. I can’t breathe. I can’t feel my body. I can’t be in the same room as that picture.

“I-I can’t do this. I’m sorry. I have to go.” Ixtab bolted for the door. Why wouldn’t the Universe let her forget Francisco? Hadn’t she suffered enough?

Living this way was simply too much to bear.

* * *

“Was that a no?” Fate asked with a suspicious grin.

One of these days, Penelope was going to find out what the deal was between her and Ixtab. However, for the time being… Christ! Why is everything with these deities so damned dramatic? They’re like Jan and Marcia. On steroids. During an orange polyester shortage.

“I think so.” Penelope’s head fell forward. “Dammit. She has to change her mind. We need that physicist back to work, especially now that he’s so close.”

“How do we know he’s close?” Fate asked.

“Because he unleashed the tablet’s power and knocked out the electricity in Helena’s building,” Penelope replied.

“Pleazzz explain,” Bees asked.

“That’s the irony; Antonio Acero is renting an apartment in Helena’s building—for the time being, anyway,” Penelope said. “She just bought the building last month to turn it into a luxury halfway house for new vampires. That is, as soon as she has any vampires to rent to since they’re all on vacation.”

The gods stared at Penelope and crickets ensued.

Dammit, she’d hoped to slide that one in without notice; the last thing she wanted was to worry them further. In the end, it wouldn’t make their already dire situation resolve any faster.

Penelope sighed. “Apparently there’s a law, enacted centuries ago by the prior queen. Now that the evil vampires have been exterminated, all good vampires are to indulge in a mandatory yearlong celebration.” She shrugged. “Of course, they’re really only getting eight months, unless we find a way to stop the apocalypse.”