Accidentally...Over?

  Cimil grumbled and then slowly opened her eyes.

  The vampire smiled with relief. “What happened, my love?”

  Cimil sat up and rubbed her temples. “I don’t know.”

  He helped Cimil to her feet. “Let’s go find somewhere for you to lie down.” The vampire walked the wobbly Cimil toward the exit.

  “Wait.” Cimil gripped his arm to steady herself. Her head whipped from side to side. “Other me?” She held her breath and listened. “Other me?” Cimil looked at her vampire. “Ohmygods, Roberto, she’s gone! She’s gone! We did it! We did it. We stopped the apocalypse!” Her two index fingers shot up in the air. “Victory, baby! Twice in one day!” Cimil started doing a strange two-fingered kind of disco dance.

  “You no longer see her? At all?” the vampire asked.

  “What’s going on, Máax?” Ashli whispered.

  “Your guess is as good as mine,” he replied, just as astonished as everyone else witnessing the spectacle. “Except on Wednesdays when my guessing is nearly infallible.”

  Cimil turned toward everyone. “It’s over! It’s over!”

  Máax stepped forward. “Cimil?”

  “The apocalypse isn’t coming!” she sang out. “My dead self from the future has finally disappeared! It means that we are all going to live.”

  Máax shook his head. “You had a dead self from the future? And the apocalypse is over?”

  “Yes!” Cimil clapped excitedly, hopping like a crazy cricket. “The Universe works in mysterious ways, my brother. Of course, if I had held the tournament last year as scheduled, we probably could have avoided this whole thing, but I forgot to put the event on my calendar—got tied up with that Love Boat marathon.” Cimil sighed happily. “But now, all is right in the world again. And you may all go on to have your babies, get married, and live long, happy lives.”

  “What is she talking about?” Ashli stared at Cimil as did everyone else.

  “I have no idea,” Máax said. “Cimil, please tell us this isn’t another one of your stupid jokes.”

  “Uh-uh. I’m serious as a stripper on a pole.”

  Everyone in the room grumbled.

  “You’re trying to tell us,” Máax said, “that each of us has gone to hell and back, through months of torment and battles, sacrifices and worry, only to find out that this was the pivotal moment?”

  Cimil grinned. “Sure. Why not?”

  Groans and boos erupted in the ballroom.

  Máax looked like he might actually take her head. “You knew this was the answer the entire time, didn’t you? And you lied about Ashli. You were playing me.”

  Cimil grinned. “You’ll never know. But you had the time of your life, and don’t even try denying it!”

  More boos filled the room, and party snacks flew at Cimil’s head.

  She ducked and dodged. “What? Derailing an apocalypse is like an orgasm or finding a garage sale. You don’t argue when they happen! You just say, ‘Thank you.’ Or you say”—she looked directly at Ashli and winked—“ ‘Thank you, Ashli.’ ”

  Was Cimil serious? Putting a stop to that spat had been Ashli’s big moment? It all just seemed so… trivial.

  Ashli looked up at Máax. “Is it really over? Just like that?”

  “I believe so.” Máax nodded cautiously. “However, after all of the drama and angst, it feels like we’re missing a big bloody battle or a near miss with an A-bomb.”

  “Nope. I’m good. Drama and angst are completely overrated.” She was about to tell Máax about her vision, but decided it wasn’t important.

  “Well, I suppose there’s always next apocalypse,” Máax said.

  Ashli blinked. “How often do they happen?”

  “Often enough, according to Cimil. But we don’t usually cut it so close,” he replied.

  “Oh, goody. And I’m immortal so I get to do it again.”

  Immoooortal. Immoooortal. Nope. Still doesn’t feel real.

  “Hey. Put ’er there, Ash!” A blonde woman dressed as a referee angel held out her fist.

  “Do I know you?” Ashli asked.

  “Nope. This is just a random, congratulatory fist bump.” She wiggled her fist, urging Ashli to take part.

  “Uh. Okay.” Ashli obliged, and the woman grinned, then disappeared into the crowd.

  “That was weird. I could swear I’ve met her before,” Ashli said to Máax who simply shrugged.

  “This calls for drinks,” slurred Belch.

  The crowd buzzed with jubilation, everyone exchanging hugs and high fives. Except for Cimil—Ashli caught a glimpse of her being carried away by her vampire. They were mauling each other’s lips.

  “Cimil?” Máax’s deep voice boomed across the room. “Where the hell do you think you’re going? I’m not done with you.”

  “Neither am I.” One of Máax’s brothers, a really, really big man with long blue-black hair and shoulders the width of a tank, stepped forward. If looks could kill.

  Her vampire set her down and then stepped in front of her. “Back off, Votan. I’ve got five hundred vampires here.”

  Votan, who was about as tall as Máax, was the sort of deity that made a person tremble just looking at him. “I’ve got ten thousand Uchben on base, two minutes from here.”

  Oh no. They were all going to fight again? This is too much!

  “I have an army of fifty thousand who can sift here in one second,” the vampire replied, his dark eyes flickering with lethal rage.

  “Dammit.” Ashli threw down her giant glass. “Enough! Can’t we just have a moment of happiness? Just one? I thought I’d sentenced the entire planet to death. Then some icky monster tried to marry me shotgun style and wanted to eat my legs for the honeymoon. So if you all don’t mind, I’d like to party now. No fighting. No negativity. Just party. Can we do that for one night? Please?”

  There was a collective mumble of agreement.

  “All right, then.” Máax cleared his throat. “Everyone, Ashli is correct. We should celebrate. And as for Cimil, I’m sure she is aware that she will have to answer for her crimes and does not plan to run. Isn’t that right, Cimil?”

  Cimil nodded from behind her large man. “Yep! I’ll be there with amazabells on.” She snorted. “Get it? Amazabells!”

  No one laughed.

  Cimil shrugged. “Yes. I’ll bring Zac. And don’t forget yourself, Máax and Chaam. Ya’ll got warrants out, too!”

  “What?” Ashli looked at Máax.

  Máax grumbled something under his breath. “I will report to prison in the morning. In the meantime, I suggest we all do as my mate has asked. It is time to celebrate. The apocalypse is over. Brutus, get this Scab out of here. Belch, get back to the bar. And you, I forget your name, start the music.”

  Nineteen

  “Shall we?” Máax held out his hand to Ashli, hoping and praying she might accept. He knew that he had no right to hope for her forgiveness after everything he’d done, but that did not mean he didn’t want it, need it. And now, more than ever, he wished he could travel back in time and somehow make things right with her. No, you fool, you did the right thing. And the proof is standing here before you.

  Yes. Ashli was alive. Alive and safe. The apocalypse was over. It was everything he could ever hope for, and if he ended up entombed for an eternity for repeatedly breaking the gods’ sacred laws, then so be it. It was a small price to pay for the woman he loved.

  Ashli stared at his hand, her turquoise eyes flickering with conflict.

  “Please?” he said. “Just give me this one evening, and then I promise to leave you be.” Forever.

  “What’s with the warrant—”

  “One evening,” Máax insisted. “A few hours of your time, and then I am out of your life for good.” He said the words, and while part of him meant them, he knew a much larger piece of him would go insane without her.

  “You really mean it?” she asked.

  Was that disappointment flickering in her eyes or disbelief?
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  “Tomorrow I will be imprisoned for my many crimes. And while I’d like to believe my brethren will take mercy on me, I am doubtful. Punishment is mandatory when our laws are broken, regardless of the reason.”

  “Oh.” Ashli looked down at her feet. “How long will you be put away?”

  He was tempted to lie and protect her feelings, but that did not feel like the right course of action. “Oh, you know, forever. But let us dance first. Then we may talk all you like.”

  She hesitated. “I can’t handle being around you, Máax. The things you did—”

  “You are the one who called a temporary truce among us all this evening, were you not?”

  She nodded and pasted on a smile. “Okay.”

  She slid her hand into his, and he immediately felt that sensation he could not fully articulate with simple words. Her touch felt like being home. It made him feel complete and loved and grateful. It made him acutely aware that he never wanted to let her go.

  He dipped his head and kissed the top of her hand, enjoying the feel of her supple skin on his lips, before he led her toward the dance floor in the corner of the giant ballroom. With his overly sensitive hearing, his ears plucked out the whisper from the crowd. The Uchben and vampires, his brethren and their mates, everyone said the same thing: “He’s going to be entombed for eternity. It doesn’t seem fair.”

  No, it was not. But who said life was fair?

  Dancing with Máax had been a mistake, and Ashli knew it the moment that she took his hand. Her entire body lit up like a naughty lighthouse. And through her torment of wildly mixed emotions, a profound clarity broke through the haze: she still wanted him.

  Yes, even after he’d lied to her. Or acted like an arrogant, supercharged Cro-Mag who thought he could get his way simply by speaking.

  But when he touched her, she couldn’t help feeling something for him. That something was everything. Stupid jerk!

  Had she meant that for him or for herself?

  She didn’t know, but when he took her in his arms and began moving her body against him to the sultry rhythm of the music—some sort of sexy, modern mix with a melodic voice and a hint of a country twang—well, she couldn’t help but melt.

  “What is this music?” she asked.

  Máax continued moving, holding her close. “Not sure. But my sister, the Goddess of Forgetfulness, is DJing tonight. Always makes it difficult to determine the song.”

  “You’re joking, right?” She looked at the statuesque woman standing in the glass DJ booth with her long golden hair in pigtail braids, wearing a pair of white go-go boots and metallic-silver micromini with matching top. A young guy with a blue faux hawk, wearing a Club M-Brace T-shirt, stood at her side.

  “Joking about what?” Máax asked.

  “That your sister, the Goddess of Forgetfulness, is DJing?”

  “What are you talking about?”

  Ashli laughed. “I get it. She’s the one who makes everyone forget? You’re funny.”

  “I am?”

  “You are joking, right?”

  “About what?” Máax looked down at her with his sunglasses-covered eyes.

  “About your sister, the Goddess of Forgetfulness.” Máax still looked confused. “Oh, never mind.” Suddenly, Ashli forgot what she was talking about and lapsed into a state of bliss. Touching Máax felt so damned good. Seeing him was even better.

  “So, my dear Ashli, now that all is set right in the world. What do you plan to do with the rest of your life?”

  Damned good question.

  “I’m not really sure,” she said. “Guess I haven’t had a lot of time to think it through.” Before they had been kidnapped by vampires from her new home in Tulum, she’d been hoping to start a new life with Máax. She’d been hoping they might live happily ever after, free from the past.

  Uh. Yay. Good luck with that. You’ll be having nightmares for the next century. Especially about that horrible monster. She still couldn’t believe that had happened. Why had he chosen her out of everyone there? How had she managed to fend him off?

  Put it on the list of disturbing things to figure out.

  “You’ll have all the time in the world now. Not to mention, you have plenty of people here to guide you in the ways of immortality.”

  Immortal. Immortal. Immortaaaal. Nope. “I guess, but I can’t stay here, sponging off your brother.”

  Máax chuckled. “Sponging? Is that what you call being at my brother’s home?”

  “I guess.”

  “You’re a guest, Ashli. You can stay as long as you like. Kinich wants for nothing. Like all gods, he has enough money to buy a small country, perhaps two. So do you, for that matter.”

  Ashli knew her mouth hung open like a complete fool. “I’m not some charity case, Máax. You can’t give me money.”

  Again he laughed. “Give? Give you money? I promise you, my dear Ashli, that the money in your name has nothing to do with me, barring the fact that I asked our best Uchben investor to manage your account. And trust me when I tell you that he charges a pretty penny. You’ve been gifted nothing from me.”

  Ashli nodded, trying to digest. “Exactly how rich am I?”

  “Not as wealthy as I; however, I’ve about a seventy-thousand-year head start.”

  “You mean, what, like a million dollars?”

  He laughed toward the ceiling. “Oh, my dear Ashli, you are so charming.”

  She slapped him on the shoulder. “Don’t make fun of me!”

  “I’m not making fun; I am enjoying your innocence, your beautiful sweet, naivety.”

  Ashli stopped moving. “Máax?”

  “What?” He peered down, that charming smile now clearly on display. So, so charming. It boggled the mind.

  “Are you capable of answering any question without behaving like a smug dork?”

  “Dork?” He laughed.

  “Yes… dork.”

  He rubbed his stubbled chin. “I do believe that is the first time I’ve been called such a name. I find it moderately offensive, but shall let it slide given you are my mate, and I love you more than life itself.”

  Love. He’d said he loved her more than life itself.

  His words hit her panic button. “Don’t, Máax.” She jerked herself from his warm, comforting grip.

  Máax reached for her and pulled her back. “Don’t what?” he whispered in her ear. “Don’t love you?”

  Yes. No. Dammit. Maybe. “You have no right—”

  “I have every right. You were born to be mine. And you wish to deny me the right to say how I feel, to speak the truth?”

  “You want to talk about the truth, Máax? Do you?” she hissed. “I’m too afraid to be with you. I’m afraid you’ll hurt me.”

  “I know,” Máax replied.

  “You know?”

  He nodded. “Remember? I can feel your emotions. We are bonded. Which is probably the reason we become so volatile when together. But yes, I feel your fear of me. Of everything. What I cannot determine is how to rescue you from it.”

  “Rescue me? Is that what you really think I need from you?” She couldn’t believe him.

  “Of course. I am a—”

  “May I cut in?”

  Both she and Máax stopped dancing and directed their attention to the man standing before them. Brutus. He now wore a tux, and with his cropped dark hair and husky, muscular build, he looked like the kind of man a woman would appreciate for simply making an effort, although the tux was not in his comfort zone.

  “Sure, Brutus, I’d love to.”

  Máax growled.

  “Don’t.” She pinched his arm.

  “Did you just pinch me?” Máax scowled.

  “Yes. Now back off.”

  A moment of brisk silence passed before Máax dipped his head. “As you wish. I’ll be in the men’s room, removing my paint. It is making my skin itch.”

  “Fine.” The outrage! Rescue me? Fix me? Save me! How about respect me. Treat me as an equal? br />
  Máax stepped away and Brutus stepped in.

  She pasted on a smile and leaned forward. “You do know he’s going to kill you for doing that, don’t you?”

  Brutus wiggled his brows. “It’s worth it. Besides, you looked like you were about to detonate. Thought you might need a moment.”

  Was she that transparent? “Thanks.”

  For the next few minutes, Ashli danced with Brutus and focused on calming down. That damned volatility again. Máax created a chemical reaction in her brain. Any fear or negative emotions seemed to magnify.

  The song was almost over when someone tapped her on the shoulder. “May I cut in?” Sentin stared down at her as if she were a yummy human treat.

  Yikes. “Ummm, I guess?”

  “One dance, asshole. After that she’s mine for the next two songs,” Brutus barked.

  Sentin laughed, but not in a happy way. “We’ll see.”

  Ashli took Sentin’s hand, feeling a bit awkward. The rudeness between these men was a bit much.

  He shuffled her away from a glaring Brutus who now stood at the edge of the parquet dance floor.

  “I know I’m new to all this,” she said, “but are all men so…”

  “Manly?” He winked. “No. Just me. Especially in bed.”

  Okay. She mentally scratched her head during the remainder of the song. By the last note, there was Brutus pulling her away. “My turn.”

  Sentin grunted in protest, but Brutus ignored him.

  Ashli had just about had it. Really, what was with these guys? Why were immortal men such barbarians?

  “May I cut in?”

  “Me, too!”

  Máax’s brothers, the drunk bartender and the one with the giant headdress, were standing there, salivating. That guy in the Maaskab outfit, Andrus, was back, too.

  What in the world?

  “Take a fucking number.” Brutus twirled her quickly and smiled.

  Ashli stopped moving. “Brutus. What’s going on?”

  “What?” He shrugged.

  “Why is everyone treating me like the last scoop of ice cream?” She felt seriously freaked out now.

  Brutus smiled. “Because there’s something about you, Ashli. Something wonderful.”