Accidentally in Love With a God (2012) (23 page)

“Guy mentioned that’s why Cimil fought to protect me.” It all sounded so strange to me. Bonds, oaths, it was like a supernatural fraternity.

“The gods are compelled to protect you as one of their own—their light runs through you. You saw how Cimil was with the rest of us,” he replied.

“You’re not under their protection?”

Tommaso’s eyes drifted to my chest.

“Hey! Stop that.” I scooped a few handfuls of bubbles and made a larger heap over my breasts.

He arched a brow. “Sorry. Can’t help it. You have very nice bubbles.”

I rolled my eyes. “Time for you to leave.”

He stuck out his lower lip making an exaggerated pout, his golden eyes sparkling. “Fine, but to answer your question, it’s a different for us Uchben. We gave our oath to them.”

“And you can break it—leave at any time?” I asked.

“Yes, Emma. I’m not a prisoner. I’m an Uchben because this is how I choose to live,” he said.

“How did you become one?” I wondered if they recruited in malls. Or maybe online?

“My father was an archeologist, working in Guatemala, when his camp was attacked by a group of Maaskab. He was found by the Uchben, barely alive. After he recovered, they made him an offer. I think he said yes, just because he’d have access to so many resources. He became one of the Uchben.”

“That’s strange. He decided to be a soldier?”

“No. He didn’t become a guard, he continued his work. There are Uchben of every imaginable kind: doctors, scholars, politicians, even beauticians.”

That explained Tommaso’s fabulous haircut.

“Well, whatever you choose to do, Emma, about the oath, just remember, you have other options.”

“Options. Do you mean, like you? Protecting me, I mean?” A very large part of me hoped he’d say no. Tommaso was smart, mysterious, handsome, strong, had a sense of humor, and was…human. That alone felt special. If he said “yes,” it would change things, make life much more complicated. Because maybe I needed both Guy
and
Tommaso, just in different ways. One belonged to reality and the other, well, to my fantasies and nightmares.

“Absolutely.” He leaned down and planted a soft kiss on my mouth, then left.

Hiccup!

Chapter TWENTY-SIX

“Votan, I’ve heard so much about you. What a pleasure! A true pleasure.” The slender, aged man with a graying beard vigorously shook Guy’s hand and then practically yanked him through the front door of his Italian countryside-style cottage. Guy had heard many stories about the eccentric Catholic priest, but no one mentioned his exuberance.

“Kind of you to make time for me, Father Xavier. I’ve heard great things about your work.”

“Please, call me Xavier. I don’t go by Father anymore.” He pointed to his collarless neck and chuckled. He wore a blue running suit and slippers.

Father Xavier worked in the Vatican City archives for thirty years until he retired to work for the Uchben. He was one of their most famous scholars. He now lived on the compound and ran the Uchben’s Historical Research Department. They’d originally sought him out because he was an expert on Mesoamerican culture, Greek mythology, and the works of Friar Bernardino de Sahagún, the Franciscan missionary who traveled with the early Spanish explorers, documenting the Aztec and Mayan folklore.

“As you wish, Xavier, thank you for making time so late in the evening.”

“Any time. I can’t tell you how excited I am to meet you in the flesh,” Xavier said, fervently looking Guy up and down as if he were a rare relic.

It didn’t bother Guy much. He was used to being treated like a, well, god. Except by Emma. She treated him like a used doormat. That’s right, a used one. Because new doormats were at least shown the respect of being proudly displayed at the front door. Used ones got thrown out back to collect dirt and mud from the yard.

Really, who did she think she was, anyway? Toying with him like that. One minute she was throwing herself at that unworthy human, Tommaso. Then she was rubbing her tempting little body to all over him. And it wasn’t because he had powerful pheromones, either. He’d been suppressing them around her. Best he could, anyway. After all, keeping his emotions in check was a challenge around her. But did she honestly believe she could manipulate him into letting her call her parents? She must have been able to sense his lust for her through the bond. She thought to control him with it. And, ho-ho, and what a masterful performance! Nearly had him convinced!

That’s not why you left, though, is it? It’s because you can’t have her, and you know it. And what about at the cenote? You felt her lust then. No faking it there.

He felt the heavy thud of doubt kick him in the gut.
She couldn’t—it’s not…no. Impossible.
She’d told him a hundred times how much she hated him and wanted him gone. She’d rejected his protection, and even now, she seemed to want nothing more than to return home and take her chances with the Maaskab.

But despite the bitter words she’d repeated over the years, his mind couldn’t help but toy with the notion of Emma’s desire perhaps being genuine.

He swallowed hard.

If it had been, then she’d now be more furious than ever for the way he’d walked out.

She’d be bat-shit-livid.

He now needed to know if she’d just been pretending. Why was dealing with women so difficult?

Stop your whining and man up!
You’re a warrior. A god. You were put on this Earth to fight and protect. Not fuddle around like a love-sick human.
He sighed.

“Oh, manners. Such terrible manners. Please, sit Votan, or Mr. Santiago? What do you go by these days?”

“You can call me Guy.”

Xavier raised one brow. “Guy Santiago. An odd choice for such a being of your stature, but modern—yes, I like it.”

Guy shrugged, “That’s what Emma calls me. I guess I’ve become accustomed to it.”

Xavier gave one polite nod. “Can I get you tea? Coffee? Oh, I know. A nice Chianti.” Xavier swept away a large stack of magazines from the small dining table. They all had a woman named Tyra on the cover.

“Wine will be fine, thank you.” Guy took a seat at the table, barely fitting on the tiny cherry wood chair. “Listen, Xavier, I do not need to tell you how sensitive what I’m about to tell you is.”

“No. No need. I may not believe your kind is above the Creator, but I still respect your place—and power—so no need to worry there.” Xavier removed a squatty, bulbous wine bottle from the cupboard and poured two glasses.

“Sorry?” Guy asked.

“Well, obviously, I am, or was, a Catholic priest, but I didn’t quit simply to serve the Uchben. In fact, I believe the roles might have been complimentary to each other. I see you as another one of God’s precious creations. Only, the other precious creations sharing this world don’t know about you. But, that’s not important. What matters is that we all believe—have faith in His plan.”

“I’m assuming you do?” Guy said.

“Oh, yes. Yes. Everything happens for a reason.”

Interesting man. Guy wasn’t much for philosophizing about the Creator or His plans. It wasn’t that he hadn’t thought about it over the tens of thousands of years. But he’d simply come to the conclusion that like all beings, he’d never really know the truth. And sharing his assumptions was pointless because it didn’t change his circumstance or purpose. He could believe he was the Easter Bunny himself, and it wouldn’t make him warm or fuzzy!

“So, what can I do for you?” Xavier asked. “I heard the latest in this morning's debrief.”

The Uchben were excellent at communication. So much so, that they proudly called their network The Hive. All it took was one message to one Uchben, and everyone else was as good as informed. It was one of their key strengths.

Guy took a small sip of wine and rolled the ruby red liquid over his tongue. Gods how he’d missed the taste of it. “Then you already know about the jars I found on that ship and the portals being blocked?”

“Yes, fascinating. Isn't it? The Maaskab have certainly honed their skills. And since you've been gone so long, I guess you can only imagine the progress they've made. If we'd only found out sooner—”

“Yes,” Guy said. “Well, that couldn't be helped. My communication channels were a bit limited while I was on vacation.”

“Ha!” Xavier snorted. “Yes. Vacation. Funny.”

“Right. So, before we attempt to free the other gods, I need you to do a little homework for me—find out how the Maaskab are sealing the portals.”

“We're already on it,” Xavier said. “I've got several people combing through the database.” He leaned across the table “I even called in a few favors at the Vatican,” he whispered.

“Thank you. I want to know everything, even if it might seem irrelevant.”

“We’ll be very thorough as usual; however, we'll need more than a day.”

“How many? I can't afford to leave my brothers and sisters festering much longer. Especially now. The Maaskab must know I'm free and that I’ve figured out what's going on. They're probably preparing for our return to Mexico now.”

“More the reason for you to know what you’re walking into, my friend. But I promise, we'll do everything we can to move quickly. But something like this, well, I could be studying it the rest of my life! A real live Pandora's Box.”

“Pandora?” Guy knew the stories of the Greek gods; after all, he’d inspired many of their stories. In fact, it was around the time of the Greeks that the gods had to implement more stringent controls over the way they'd been interfering with the human world. If they weren't careful, people might resolve to leave their fates in the gods’ hands, and that was never their intention. The gods could influence, sway the odds, even perform minor miracles. But at the end of the day, humans drove the fate of their world. Fourteen gods could do little to control billions of people like tiny robots. Thus, they implemented their policy of surgical intervention, only stepping in when events were leading toward an irreparable path. Like any good parent, the gods needed to nurture humans to evolve and mature on their own, not by brute force, which would only serve to create a species of dependent non-thinkers. That would be wrong, not to mention annoying and impractical.

“Well, yes,” Xavier explained. “I mean, the contents don't sound the same, your jar only contained one ingredient. But did you know Pandora’s box was actually a jar and—”

Guy interrupted, “This is something quite different than a plague, famine, or good old-fashioned evil. The contents instantly incinerated my entire body when I reached inside. Of course, I ended up back in the cenote where there was a pleasant trap waiting for me—made from the same dark energy. It had the same smell, for lack of a better word, and it was powerful. Only a god could have taught the Maaskab to do this.”

“Hmmm...” Xavier nodded. “Did the jar do anything when you took the lid off?”

“No. Nothing happened until I reached my hand inside.” He suddenly felt foolish for admitting his curiosity had gotten the best of him. His confidence was sometimes both a blessing and a curse. Usually, it was just a blessing.

“And how many jars did you say there were?” asked the ex-priest.

“Pizzaro showed me the map Cimil had given him. At the time, I saw at least two dozen scattered around Latin America and Europe. It was as if someone purposefully tried to make it laborious to collect them all. I just don’t know if Cimil wanted them because she had a hand in all this and needed to cover her tracks, or for some other motive. It's anyone's guess.”

“But why wouldn’t she send the Uchben to retrieve them?” Xavier asked.

It was the same question Guy had, and the only conclusion was that she didn't want the other gods to know.

“When we release the other gods, we'll catch her and find out.” Guy stated coldly. That said, there was still the matter of another god roaming free. Emma had counted only eleven voices out of fourteen. Both he and Cimil were apparently free. So who was not trapped? Was this the god working with the Maaskab? They’d soon find out.

Guy rose from the table, almost knocking his head on the chandelier. “I'll expect an update tomorrow”

“Of course.” Xavier followed him to the door. “Oh, and what about the girl?”

Guy turned casually. “What
about
Emma?”

“I ask purely out of academic interest—since her kind is relatively new—how is she adjusting to the news of being a demigoddess?”

Guy shrugged. “It's hard to say. She's had to face more than her fair share of shocks this week. Who's to say how she'll truly feel when the dust settles.”

“And your plans for her?”

Keep her. Maybe forever. And find a way to bed her. Yes, I’d definitely like that. “
She will go home. We may, perhaps, even erase her memory, though I’m not sure it is possible. She’s got a lifetime of them with me.”

“Erase her memory?” He scratched his gray beard. “Oh. How unfortunate. I'd so hoped to study her.”