“Máax.” Kinich’s turquoise eyes flickered from black to a calm pastel blue. “Why have you betrayed us? We’re your family. Don’t you love us? Because we love you.” Grumbles of concurrence erupted from everyone in the prison, including the platoons of Uchben and vampire soldiers. Looked like a godsdamned leather pants convention.

  Máax ignored the awkward touchy-feely question from Kinich and instead focused on Ashli. “You would never have survived, Ashli. For whatever reason, the Universe sought to eliminate you. She told me herself in a vision. But I have rectified that now; you are immortal, a gift I was unable to give you in 1993 because the portals to my world were sealed during that time. It’s a long story but true.”

  Cimil tsked in Máax’s general direction. “Now you’ve done it! You’ve been banished from the realm of the gods. But you went there anyway and made her immortal? Without our blessing? Máax! I’m shocked. Bad god. Bad!”

  Why did Máax have the distinct feeling that Cimil was putting on a show? Because she is a horrible liar. Yes, she was up to something. Perhaps the entire prophecy thing had been a ploy. Wouldn’t surprise him at this point, honestly.

  Ashli’s gaze fell to the floor. “Is it true that we are all going to die? All because of me?”

  “I do not believe so,” Máax said. “I believe that—”

  “Yes! Yes! It’s true!” Cimil squawked. “After earthquake number ten, the gods go to war with each other. Within seven months, we completely destroy the planet.”

  Ashli flashed a glance over her shoulder at Cimil. “That must be your sister.”

  “Ashli, do not listen to her. Cimil is not trustworthy,” he said.

  “Oh”—Ashli poked his chest—“but you are? You lied to me. Lied. And aren’t you the God of Truth? Aren’t you supposed to be incapable of lying?”

  “If you’d simply allow me to—”

  “No.” She held up her hand. “I don’t want to hear another word. I should have known better, but it’s my own damned fault. I allowed myself to be taken in by you and your—your godly hotness. I’m an idiot.” She threw up her hands. “I actually allowed myself to dream this could work, that we could have a life together. And now you’re saying that my being here is a death sentence for the entire planet?”

  “Not exactly. Prophecies are very difficult to interpre—”

  “I want to go back,” Ashli said. “And not just to my house, but to my own time. We have to undo this!”

  Go back? Yes, he’d made her immortal, but she wasn’t indestructible. She was more like a vampire who might live forever as long her body wasn’t destroyed. Gods were the only true immortals in existence. “You cannot return to your time.” Bottom line, she might be fine. She might not. But why take the risk? What for? They would find another way to stop the clock.

  The smell of anger wafted from Ashli’s body. Yeah, he had to admit, it turned him on.

  Maledicta, is there anything about this woman I don’t like?

  “You made me immortal, didn’t you?” Ashli looked at Cimil. “I’m safe now, right?”

  Cimil shrugged. “Your guess is as good as mine. Except on Fridays. My guessing sucks on Fridays. Because that’s when I go to happy hour. It’s such a distraction when hot wings and onion rings are complimentary with a purchase of a pint. Yanno what I mean?”

  The vampires and Uchben soldiers exchanged glances and then nodded and mumbled in agreement.

  “See.” Cimil grinned.

  “Today is Friday,” said Kinich.

  “Oops,” Cimil said cheerfully, “I guess the guessing store is closed today. Or not. ’Cause I just guessed.”

  “Ashli,” Máax pleaded. “Do not listen to Cimil. We will find a way to make everything right.”

  “I hope you are certain about that, brother,” Kinich argued. “Because now the prophecy will go unfulfilled, and we are almost out of time. You’ve gambled with the lives of everyone, including those of our children. By the way, can anyone explain why I have the sudden urge to write a song about puppies and cute little chipmunks? Anyone?”

  “Have you all gone mad?” Máax argued. “Have you? We all know by now that Cimil isn’t to be trusted. Hell, she doesn’t even trust herself half the time. Just ask Roberto.”

  This was the only perk about being invisible: intelligence gathering. Máax had long ago begun to suspect that Cimil was up to something and began spying on her. Of course, he never could have imagined the shocking truth. Cimil had aided the gods’ enemies—those evil Mayan priests, the Maaskab, and evil vampires called Obscuros. She’d also poisoned Chaam with dark energy and used him to do her evil bidding. Again and again, she’d masterminded unspeakable atrocities. But then Máax discovered something else. There was an odd cosmic method to her cataclysmic madness. Yes, when one stepped back—really, really far back—one began to see that those seemingly unconnected, malicious events she’d orchestrated weren’t random at all. One might even go as far as saying that Cimil was the yin of the Universe’s yin and yang. Good always seemed to blossom from the rubble she left behind. But that did not mean she could be trusted.

  Roberto crossed his arms. His dark eyes and the angular planes of his face matched his hard-boiled personality. “It is true. In fact, Cimil is the bringer of the apocalypse.”

  A collective gasp erupted from everyone inside the prison.

  Cimil shrugged. “I’m a complex creature. What can I say?” She looked behind her and stared at the vacant corner of her cell. “I’m not talking to you, Twinkie twat, now am I?”

  “Ashli.” Máax cautiously took her hand. “I know you are upset, but I want to explain my actions—”

  “You’ve sentenced everyone to death,” Kinich challenged. “There is no explaining that.”

  “What would you have me do?” Máax snarled. “Tell me, brother! Would you shove Penelope and your unborn child into a burning volcano if it meant saving the world?” He paused. “How about you, Niccolo? Would you let Helena, the mother of your child, die for the good of humanity? Or would you fight like hell to find another way to stop the end of days?”

  The couples looked at each other, their eyes filled with sadness.

  “You are right, brother.” Kinich took Penelope’s hand. “I would not give her up. I would find another way.” His brother Votan and sister Ixtab agreed.

  Yes, they understood.

  “That is the path I have chosen,” Máax added. “There is nothing I will not do for Ashli. Nothing. And I will fight until my last breath to keep her from dying, including in an apocalypse. What I do not understand is why my brethren will not fight by my side when I have sacrificed everything to come to your aid time and time again.”

  “He is right,” Votan, the God of Death and War, said. “He has selflessly put himself in harm’s way. Repeatedly. We love you. In fact, I too feel the urge to write a song. But about you, our brother.”

  One might think that Votan was joking, but he wasn’t. What the hell had gotten into everyone?

  Must be the apocalyptic vibe in the air messing with everyone’s heads.

  “This is all wonderful. I’m touched. Truly touched,” Ashli fumed. “But I won’t be writing any songs in your honor because I want nothing to do with you, Máax. Take me home. This time, I mean it. I was an idiot to trust you. And it’s a mistake I’ll never make again.”

  Ashli had never felt so betrayed in her entire life. Ever. From her point of view, she’d done an amazing job rolling with the punches given the circumstances, but this was too much. How could she stay with Máax, knowing he’d lied to her? Lied. Sure, she’d been able to forgive him when he’d withheld information and made her immortal without her permission, but she’d assumed that would never happen again. And technically, it had not been a lie.

  But this? It was the textbook definition of a lie, and blatant dishonesty was the one thing she couldn’t tolerate. Especially not from a man like Máax who had such a strong emotional grip over her. Extra-especially from a man w
ho claimed to stand for the truth. That made him an extra-special fake.

  Worst of all, the lie had brought her forward in time and derailed the prophecy? She didn’t know what it meant to break one. Or why her staying in 1993 would have stopped the end of the world. But it was clear that the situation was bad. Really, really bad. And they were almost out of time. Why hadn’t he frigging told her?

  Oh, giantmonkeycchinoballs! The world is going to end! Ashli gripped her stomach. She was going to hurl. What had she done?

  “Take me back,” she croaked.

  “You cannot mean that, Ashli,” Máax argued.

  “I can, and I do. Take me back!”

  “But we don’t know what will happen,” he said. “Death might still seek you out.”

  “I would rather have one more day of a life I loved and trying to fix this mess than spend one more minute here with you, living a life based on a lie. Or worse, living with a god who proclaims to stand by the truth, but is just a weasel.”

  The entire room tensed. It was as if the cosmos held a breath.

  Máax tried to take her hand, but she yanked it away.

  He made a little growl. “I understand why you might feel that way; however, if you gave me the opportunity to—”

  “What? To treat me like an infant? Make a life-altering decision for me? I’ve lost everything, Máax. Everything. First my family, and now you’ve taken away my humanity, my home, not to mention, have you seen my café, Máax? Have you? It’s like Starbucks turned into a gigolo and knocked up a baboon!”

  “I admit that the Uchben asset team may have overstepped their boundaries. However, their ability to predict consumer trends is flawless. Your café is quite successful. You have over one hundred now.”

  “What? Ohmygod, do you think any of that matters? We’re all going to die!” Her mouth hung open.

  “Uh, no. Not really. But you brought it up—”

  “I hate what you’ve done to me. I hate that you’ve made me some murderer of the human race, not that I even come close to understanding how that’s possible. But I hate it, nonetheless. And I hate that for a few hours I got a taste of a damned happy new life; then you snatched it all away. But none of that matters now, because I’m going to fix this. Take me back,” she demanded.

  Even the vampires in the middle of the room looked uncomfortable.

  “Ashli, you are upset. And probably in shock. But we will get through this. All of us will get through this if we pull together.”

  Was he for real?

  “Máax. Didn’t you hear me? I want you to take me back.”

  “I cannot do that.” There was a moment of pause. “I won’t allow you to run away, Ashli. Not from me. Not from this fight. It is time for you to grow up and cease being an emotional hermit who lives in the shadows of the past. We will fix this. Sentin, please take her to Kinich’s home. I will be there momentarily.”

  “Are you kidding me?” He was going to take her against her will?

  “I am a god, Ashli, I rarely kid,” Máax said.

  “I’m a god, and I do it all the time,” Cimil said.

  “There are many things you do that I would not advise,” Roberto pointed out. “Such as lighting your own jail cell on fire.”

  “One of my best moments, indeed!” Cimil replied.

  “You’re treating me like your property, Máax,” Ashli growled. “Don’t you dare do this.”

  “Sentin. Please take my woma—Ashli.”

  Son of a bitch. “You’re not who I thought you were.”

  Sentin stepped forward in a blur, and Ashli found herself standing in the middle of a very large bedroom.

  Ohmygod! She spun in a circle. “I can’t believe this. I hate him.”

  Sentin laughed. “Gods are known to be a bit overbearing at times,” he said with a thick Italian accent. “But they are nothing compared to vampires. By the way, are you single now? I’m digging your whole angry human vibe thing. It’s kind of hot.”

  “What?” Ashli stared up at the tall, lean vampire with dark messy hair and a boyish smile that she wanted to slap right off of his face.

  He lifted both brows. “I cook really well, and I’m great with kids. Just ask Niccolo’s wife.”

  Ashli huffed. These people were unbelievable.

  Seventeen

  As soon as Ashli left, the heated debate reignited. Only it wasn’t a debate; it was more like a frantic screaming match among the gods, vampires, and Uchben over what to do next.

  As for Máax, he paced the cement floor of the cellblock, trying to understand what had transpired. How could things have gone so very, very wrong? Not only had the apocalyptic situation escalated to DEFCON 1, which was bad, but Ashli also hated him. That had to be a first in the world of mates, didn’t it?

  You had this coming.

  “Fuck!” He punched the glass in front of Cimil. “Fucking hell!” He had to fix this. But how?

  Cimil, who now wore pink shorts and a gold blouse with a pink unicorn on the front, sat cross-legged on her cot, scrunching her face into a tiny pale ball. “They don’t actually do that in hell. And come to think of it, hell is a fictitious place. Unless you want to count waiting in line at the DMV, then hell yeah! Totally there with ya. But they don’t fornicate there, either. Except on Talk Like a Pirate Day. Mark it on your calendar. September nineteenth. Arrr.”

  Fucking Cimil.

  “Cimil. I’m going to ask you a question,” Máax fumed. “And I warn you, the next words that come from your mouth had better be the godsdamned truth.”

  “The godsdamned truth.” She cackled and then buffed her nails on the front of her shirt. “Oh, I’m on fire today! Not literally, but figurat—”

  “Cimil!” he screamed, then looked at one of the vampire guards—not that the guard knew Máax was looking at him. “Open this cell right now. I’m going to snap her neck.”

  “I think not.” Roberto stepped in toward Máax.

  “Jeez.” Cimil rolled her eyes. “Since when did you become King Poopie-Doo of the party, Máax? I was just kidding.”

  Máax had had enough. “Cimil, so help me—”

  “I already know what you are going to ask; a dead little birdy told me. Can we stop the apocalypse? No. Well, maybe. I don’t know. According to my last vision, Ashli is in present day and in her forties when she stops the apocalypse, meaning she did not jump through the portal to get here.”

  “Okay. Fine. Ashli is immortal now. So what do we do?” Máax asked.

  “Hello! I told you not to introduce any additional variables because then we wouldn’t know what to do. Voilà! Here we are. As clueless as a teenage girl on prom night!”

  “It doesn’t make any sense,” he grumbled. Cimil said that Ashli needed to live out her life normally. But he was certain, dead certain, that Ashli would not have survived.

  “Hmmm.” Cimil jostled her head from side to side. “Yes, perhaps my snark was outdated. According to a very reliable source, Vampire Diaries, the females of this day and age are quite experienced by the time they get to prom.” She began tapping the side of her mouth. “Hmmm… I need a new snark. Clueless as a unicorn in a skateboard shop—”

  “Cimil. Focus. Are you certain about what you saw in your vision? Because I promise, Ashli would not have lived another day had I not interfered,” he said.

  “Yes, I told you Ashli was not twentysomething in my vision. She was much, much older.” Cimil sighed with fake sympathy. “But none of that matters now. You’ve brought her here. You made her immortal. You altered everything. And, yes! Before you ask, we are still on a path of destruction. That’s the one thing I know for sure. Oh! And here comes.…”

  The structure shook with staggering turbulence for four long seconds. The steel beams inside the walls groaned and creaked.

  “Number nine,” Cimil said to the now deathly silent room of immortals.

  “Son of a bitch.” Máax scratched the thick growth of whiskers on his jaw. “There has to be another
way to fix everything.”

  Cimil stood and began playing with her cell phone. “Your guess is as good as mine, except on Fridays—”

  “Cimil, can you not be serious, even for a moment?” he grumbled. “Especially given the situation?”

  “Nope.” Cimil shoved the phone down the front of her shorts.

  “What in gods’ name are you doing, Cimil?” Máax scowled.

  “Yes, what are you doing?” Roberto asked.

  “I’m taking a selfie of my privates. It’s called a privie. Here, want to see?” She held up the phone.

  “No!” Máax turned away. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

  “Mmmm…” Roberto groaned lightly. “I like.”

  “Put the phone away, or I will come in there and beat you with it.” Máax was truly close to losing it.

  “There! All gone!” She returned her phone to her pants and held up her empty hands. “So, where were we?” Cimil once again glanced over her shoulder toward the empty corner of her cell. “No one asked you, crazy coolots!”

  Impossible. She is impossible.

  “Cimil, what if we sent Ashli back?” Not that he would allow that, but it was an answer he needed to know.

  Her index finger shot up. “Ah! Now, there’s an interesting idea. Would the Universe accept Ashli as an offering? A tragedy for our triumph. A yin for a yang. Let me think that through. You’ve fallen in love with her so if she were to die,” Cimil mumbled to herself, “it would be a true romantic tragedy, old-school style. Like big Romeo and Little J.” Cimil tapped the side of her face. “Little J was Gossip Girl, wasn’t she? Sorry, I meant J.Lo.”

  “That is not what I meant,” Máax said.

  “Oh, good.” Cimil snorted. “I was gonna say… I mean, what kind of asshole would suggest sacrificing his mate like that?” Cimil shrugged. “Not sure what will happen if you take her back.”

  “Has anyone ever told you that you’re the worst prophet the world has ever known?”

  Cimil rolled her eyes. “The world is not over yet so there’s still time for me to come in second.” Her cell phone began to squawk like an irate chicken. “Hold that thought.” She held up her index finger and dug down into the front of her shorts. She pressed the talk button and held it to her ear. “Yo.”