Accidentally in Love With a God (2012) (35 page)

Xavier snapped out of his rock-star-trance and scrambled over to a tree where his clothes hung.

“We need men,” Guy said to Cimil. “But even if we manage to round them up, we’ll still be unable to tell the ‘Tommaso’s’ from the loyal Uchben.

“I brought twenty men. They’re waiting near the fort. But culling is quite easy,” Xavier called out from the trees, slipping on his tan running suit. “Check their chests. All Maaskab bare the mark. They must perform the ritual of bloodletting to become one of them.”

That little old man was eccentric, but extremely bright. Guy might have to make him immortal before Cimil ruined him.

Chapter THIRTY-SIX

“This can’t be happening. This can’t be happening.” I squeezed my eyes shut, hoping when I reopened them, the nightmare would be over. I was locked inside a medieval holding cell, complete with dank stone walls, a torch sconce, and a small bucket in the corner for what I imagined was supposed to be my toilet. Sad part was, there was nowhere to sit or sleep. Could that be because I wasn’t going to be here long enough?

“Effing great.” I threw up my hands and paced the eight by ten room, chewing the distasteful cud of my colossal mistake.

Earlier, after I’d realized that I was quite possibly the lamest person on the face of the planet for not jumping into that cenote when I had a chance, I peacefully went with Tommaso and the two Maaskab who’d appeared out of thin air behind me. I truly feared for my life, but tried to remain focused and mentally record everything I could: which direction we were walking, the direction of the sunlight, what kind of weapons the putrid monsters carried—anything I could to help me escape later.

After zigzagging through the jungle for over an hour, they blindfolded me and tied my hands behind my back. Without them free, I thought for certain the mosquitoes and gnats would treat me like their own private buffet. But then I’d realized the bugs hadn’t come near me since we set out.

So, that finally settles it! The trophy in the Evil-Eviler-Evilest Contest goes to—drum roll, please—the Scabs.
Not even bloodsucking bugs wanted to get near them.

“Are you going to kill me?” I asked Tommaso.

“Walk, Emma,” he’d said.

“Why are you doing this? I know this isn’t you.”

He pushed me forward. “Walk.”

I remembered the four raised lines running across his chest like fleshy, speed bumps. “But they must have done something to you. Those scars.”

“The scars are a badge of honor.”

So, they hadn’t tortured him? He was proud of those scars? “Why four?” I asked.

“I am one of their leaders.”

If he really, truly was one of them, then it all made sense now. When the Maaskab were around, the buzzing got louder. Every time Tommaso was around, the same. Their presence must somehow rile up the gods.

I stumbled. Tommaso caught me by the shoulder. “Are you out of your mind?” I asked.

“Yes,” he admitted.

“Why?”

“The Uchben killed my family,” he said without the slightest hint of emotion.

“Are you sure? It just doesn’t seem like—”

“I arrived right after it happened and saw the bodies. They killed my parents, my brothers and sisters, even their children. They shot them right at the dinner table.”

Horrible. Just horrible. “Why would they do that?”

“I still don’t know.”

“Then how? How do you know for sure?” I argued.

“Listen, Emma, even I didn’t want to believe it. But there were witnesses who saw the men entering the house. They described their clothes, gear, guns—everything. Then I found a record in the Uchben database. It was only an entry with a date and time, but I knew.”

“So you joined the Maaskab instead of finding out why?” I couldn’t believe he’d simply make such a drastic leap to the “dark side” without solid proof.

“No. That’s when Chaam asked me to work with him.”

Chaam must have been Guy’s brother—the sexual predator. I wondered what
his
unique talent was. Maybe hitting women? The God of Domestic Violence. That seemed like a fitting title for the bastard.

“I didn’t want to at first,” he explained, “but I realized how right he was about everything. The Uchben and the gods only care about keeping their power.”

“Do you honestly think the Maaskab and this Chaam guy don’t want the same thing? Sounds like they’re just trying to knock the high-man from the totem pole so they can sit up top instead,” I argued.

Tommaso laughed. “Oh. You couldn’t be more wrong.”

“Are you sure about that? Because you’re about to kill me simply because I happen to be related to them.”

“Emma, you were created for a purpose. Your life was never yours to begin with.”

“My life isn’t mine? What the hell is wrong with you?” I asked.

“I don’t expect you to understand.” He flashed a nervous glance at the two Scabs walking behind me.

“So you’re going to kill me?” I still couldn’t believe this was the same Tommaso.

“No. Chaam likely will, though. But he could decide to give you a temporary reprieve if you play nice.”

“Screw you, Tommaso. This is my life. And make no mistake, if you help them end it, then you’re a cold-blooded killer—a murder—just like the people who killed your family. Period.”

He winced and then laughed wickedly.

No, not the man I thought he was.
How could I have been so wrong? I saw how he reacted when I’d talked about the pain my family was going through after I’d been taken to the villa. He had genuine compassion. He’d been so kind and so…“Wait. It was you, wasn’t it? You brought the Maaskab to the villa, when they came to get me.”

“So you figured it out,” he answered.

“Why didn’t you take me yourself?” I asked.

“I couldn’t compromise my position. It’s very difficult to infiltrate the Uchben.”

“And the necklace? What was that for?”

“Chaam has a particular fascination with you. It was a gift from him. All his women wear one.”

“Lucky me.” Then I wondered if the Uchben had figured out yet that there was more to the black jade than we’d originally understood. In fact, it seemed like a multipurpose supernatural tool for evil. It could act as a fertility aid to the gods, create watery god-prisons, act as a shield from being viewed by the gods, become unattractive pottery, and, according to Guy, be used as a weapon. What else could this stuff do? Get rid of toe fungus, cellulite, or pimples? Those were evil too, right?

“What’s next?” I asked. “Do I have hours or days?”

“Now you wait. Get in.” He pushed me down onto the cold stone floor. “Good bye, Emma.” I heard him say as he began closing the door behind me.

“Wait! Tommaso. Please!” The door slammed in my face, and now I had nothing to do except replay my mistakes over and over again in my head, fidget with the bracelet, which wasn’t coming off without a hacksaw—oh, add tacky, unbreakable jewelry to the list of black jade uses—and think about how I’d give anything to see Guy again.

He’d been right about Tommaso; he did hurt me. Worse than Guy ever had. Sure, Guy had manipulated me, played Yo-Yo with my feelings, withheld the truth, but Guy was always right.

For example, when he said that my attraction toward him was more than just pheromones, he couldn’t be more right. I still thought about him even when he wasn’t in the room—sometimes good thoughts, sometimes bad thoughts, but I thought about him. I especially thought about that deep, velvety voice and his epic body.

Lord, he was sinfully handsome. The swell of his powerful biceps, the span of his broad shoulders, the endless peaks and valleys of muscles covering every square inch of his bronzed body. I could spend hours reliving the feel of him laying over me, panting, needing me—it made my insides liquefy instantly. But the nail in the coffin was those eyes. The way his turquoise gaze drilled right through me took my breath away. His eyes were a thousand times more powerful than the rush from his scent filling my lungs, the taste of his lips, or the growl he made when he thrust himself between my legs.

And I couldn’t ignore that when I removed the bond, it hurt. It hurt like hell. Almost as badly as when he pretended he didn’t care about me.

But did I love him?

I didn’t even have to think it over. Yes. I did. I just didn’t know how much, or if I could love him enough to forgive him. But I knew I wanted a chance, and it killed me to think I wouldn’t get one.

Speaking of being killed, that seemed to be my fate. Guy and Cimil were trapped, Tommaso was a traitor, and the Uchben were off chasing Scabs through the jungle.

No one was coming to save me. Dammit. How had I gotten myself into this mess? I should have stayed in Rome and waited patiently like Guy had told me. Again he was right. I really did deserve that spanking he’d threaten me with so many times.

I could only pray now that he would eventually find a way to escape and kill every Scab walking the earth so that my family would be safe…so the world would be safe.

I had to believe he would. He was a god. He was an extraordinarily dedicated one, too.

And, I had to believe that he was the best damned killer on the planet.

Chapter THIRTY-SEVEN

“I go alone,” Guy said bluntly, leaving no room for negotiation.

“Don’t be a stubborn fool, brother,” said Cimil. “We free the others first, then we go to collect your precious pet and take down the Maaskab.”

“No. There isn’t time. They’re going to kill her. You take the men to the cenotes, free our brethren,” Guy said.

“Cimil’s right, you can’t go alone,” said Xavier.

“I’m not asking—”

“Ay, he’s right about that, ya crusty ol’ bastard.” Looking tired, dirty, and disheveled, Gabrán and his men emerged from the shadows of the jungle. A huge smile swept across Guy’s face. “About time, where the hell have you been?”

“Well, funny thing happened on the way to our little party,” Gabrán explained. “We got ambushed by a bunch o’ filthy Scabs, as your wee lass likes to call 'em. But once we realized they were movin’ from place tae place faster than a bolt of lightning...well, we changed our tactics. Seems they’re easy to kill if ya close your eyes an’ listen. They make quite a bit o' noise when splittin’ air.”

“Fascinating,” said Guy.

Gabrán explained that he and his men killed about forty or so Maaskab, but just as if they’d been called to go home for dinner, the Scabs suddenly disappeared.

“Somewhere important to go, no doubt.” Guy said.

He showed Gabrán the aerial photos Xavier had brought. The two men discussed, swapped insults, and rattled on like two spiteful siblings, before finally settling on a plan. Gabrán refused to leave Guy’s side, so he and his men would go together. Xavier and Cimil would go with the men who’d accompanied Xavier to free the other gods.

“Brother, please reconsider,” Cimil begged. “You risk quite a lot to free your little Payal. I’ve foreseen all possible outcomes and eighty-percent result in your failure. Ten in your disappearance forever—Oh! Oh! Can I have your collection of cookbooks and the villa in Greece?”

Guy frowned. “See you in few days.”

Chapter THIRTY-EIGHT

The door creaked open and in stepped Chaam. He was dressed in a black kaftan and wore an elaborate green jade and silver necklace with a large serpent pendent. I stared blankly for several moments. My mind wanted him to be Guy, but even in the low glow of torchlight, I could see he wasn’t. First, Guy would never wear that horrible outfit. And second, Guys lips were slightly fuller, his jaw line stronger, and overall he was taller and huskier. Guy was better in every way—even his man-gear—although, I’d never tell him that because it was way too fun picking on him.

“Let me guess, you were dropped in the ugly, stupid bucket when the gods were made. No wonder why Votan never mentioned you. I’d be embarrassed having you as a brother, too.”

He slapped me across the face. “Quiet.”

Yep. God of Domestic Violence.
“Oh, and what a bonus. You’re socially retarded. You’re like the trifecta of losers. In fact, why don’t I just call you that?” I shot daggers with my eyes, rubbing my cheek. I hated being told what to do, but being slapped? Hitting a woman was only one step above beating children and kicking puppies. Only the trashiest, lowest breed of pond scum did that.

He raised his open hand in the air, but instead of cowering, I dropped my hands and took a step forward. “Go for it, Trifecta. You’re going to kill me anyway, and I’d rather die knowing I didn’t do anything to add joy to your life.”

Instead of slapping me again, he laughed, lowered his hand, and crudely stroked the side of my face. “You’re feisty. I like that about you, Emma.”

Ewww.
I didn’t want him liking anything about me. Then I reluctantly recalled the dreams I’d had of him and the very spicy things he’d wanted to do to me.
Uh-oh.
“Trifecta, what exactly is your special talent?” I asked.