Goddess of Forgetfulness

by Mimi Jean Pamfiloff

  She slid on a soft black hoodie dress with a big pocket in the front. It was the sort of outfit that said, I’m not going to bother looking good for you because you’re not worth it.

  And what was with him hiding who he was? All right, maybe he wasn’t hiding, but he certainly behaved like a roadie and dressed like a roadie. He hadn’t made his identity known. And he sure the hell isn’t in his sixties. Where had that BS rumor come from?

  At three in the morning, there was a hard knock on the door of her hotel room. She walked over and peeked through the tiny hole.

  Liath. Her blood pressure instantly spiked and her lips tingled with the recollection of that kiss.

  She pasted on a sugary smile and opened the door. “Well, well, Mr. Liath. Nice of you to make it.”

  She stepped aside, allowing him to pass before closing the door.

  He made his way over to the living room, which was a considerable size with a plush khaki sofa and armchair and stained-glass coffee table. An enormous flat-screen in the corner sat lifeless, but she had the curtains open to display a spectacular view of Rio’s sparkling coastline.

  “Nice place. Hope you’re enjoying it,” he said with a stark tone.

  He took a seat, his impressive seven-foot frame taking up almost half of the three-person sofa.

  Forgetty’s eyes twitched with suspicion as she attempted to puzzle him out.

  She walked over and took the armchair angled toward the corner of the coffee table. “So—”

  “Make it quick, sweetheart. I have things to do.”

  She jerked her head back in shock. “Well, then go do them.”

  His blue eyes narrowed. “You asked me here—no. That’s incorrect. You demanded I come.”

  “I did, but I won’t put up with your buffoonery and piggery and general ickiness. By the way, why did you not tell me who you are?”

  “Why would I? You were paid, travel taken care of, and you DJed at ten of my events. None of these required you and I have a direct relationship.”

  “It’s sketchy, that’s why. Anyone running a large international event like that would be interested in making sure things run smoothly.”

  “I have people I pay for that.”

  She wasn’t getting anywhere with this man. Okay. Think, think…what do I really want to know? As her mind stirred, her eyes drifted to his muscular thighs encased in new black leather pants.

  Hmm… He changed his clothes from earlier. He even wore a white, nicely starched shirt with little black buttons. Looks expensive. She then noted how his plentiful pecs swelled against the fabric and a smattering of dark hair peeked out between the lapels of his collar.

  “Well,” he stood, filling the room with his intimidating presence, “this has been a complete waste of time.”

  Huh? She jerked to her feet. “Wait.”

  “For what?” He speared her with his ice blue eyes.

  “I…I want to know why you remember me?”

  He looked at her like she was stupid. “You brought me here to feed your ego? You really are a moron.”

  “Okay, buddy! I’ve had it with that mouth of yours.” She stepped toward him, determined to give him a big jolt of god juice.

  She reached out and let ’er rip. He flew back with a grunt, landing right on the sofa.

  “Ow! What the fuck?” he groaned.

  “Insult me one more time. I dare you,” she snarled, stepping closer and bending down to meet his gaze.

  Their noses ten inches apart, she stared into his eyes, and a strange sensation washed over her. She suddenly felt—not heard but felt—his heartbeat thrumming away. She felt it like a river of warm vibrations coursing through her veins, gripping every cell of her being and lulling them, igniting them.

  Her eyes went wide. “What. Is. That?”

  “What is what?”

  “Don’t tell me you don’t feel it.”

  With a dry, emotionless face, he said, “I don’t feel it.”

  “Lying jerk.”

  His right eye twitched. “Bitch.”

  “Asshole.”

  “God, I so want to throw you down on the floor and fuck you.”

  “Ha!” She jumped up and pointed in his face. “I knew it! I knew it! You ran into me on purpose. You kept knocking me down because you just wanted me on the ground, probably with my knees hooked around your big, strong shoulders while you fucked me breathless with your big dick.” She paused. “It is big, isn’t it?”

  A sly smile curved one side of his sinful mouth. “Huge.”

  Images of him plowing into her, his strong body over her, in her, heating her, pummeled her mind. Dear gods, he is so beautiful—the magnificent size of him, the long thick hair, the angular jaw covered in a short dark beard that called out to her fingertips and begged for a proper petting.

  Wait. Nuh-uh. She stepped back, feeling flustered and filled with aching need. This guy does not get to have me. I deserve a good man. A man who protects me, cherishes me, and remembers me. He only checked one of those boxes.

  “You need to go.” She jerked her head toward the door.

  “Huh?” Now he looked sucker punched.

  She took several more steps away from him, the sofa, and the coffee table. “Out. Now.”

  “It’s my room.”

  She lifted her brows. “Sorry?”

  “I paid for this room. Technically it’s mine. Therefore, you cannot ask me to leave.”

  “Wait. A second ago, I had to stop you from going, and now you want to stake a claim?”

  He toggled his head from side to side. “No. Not really. I was merely making a point.”

  “Ohhh-kay. You really need to go. Now.” She pointed toward the door.

  “I never should’ve come here. Not when I know what you’re after.” He drew a breath, causing his large chest to expand. “You’re like all the rest.”

  What the hell! He made it sound like she was some giant horny goddess toad. “Sex is never a motive for my actions. I’ve never even had a relationship, which you heard me announce publically.”

  “I’m not surprised. Who would want someone like you?”

  Okay, that one hurt. She knew she wasn’t relationship material, because one had to form a connection with another person for that to be true, but he’d made it sound like she was worthless.

  The one man in the world who remembers me, though I do not know why, and he literally turds on me. After physically assaulting me. What sort of cruel game was the Universe playing? Was he supposed to be a lesson? Because she didn’t see a learning moment in this. Yet, she felt a connection. It would explain why he kept showing up and colliding physically with her. The Universe demanded they notice each other. Or he subconsciously really does want me on the ground for kinky, dirty sex. Or perhaps both?

  Who cares! She’d served loyally for seventy millennia. This could not be what the Universe was asking of her: To choose between her self-esteem and happiness or the entire human race? Because faced with such a decision, she would have to choose the seven-plus billion souls on the planet, not counting the furry masses and sea turtles, over her own life, which essentially was what this all boiled down to.

  Mr. Hottie McJerkface or…everyone? Ugh! I hate my existence.

  “You’re a real gentleman, Mr. Liath.” She looked away, forcing her eyes to remain dry.

  Considering his major assholiness, she expected him to leave, but instead she heard him draw a deep breath, almost the sort one might take when filled with regret.

  “I’m sorry,” he said, “more than you’ll ever know.” He walked over to the door and left.

  Forgetty stood there for several moments before his words kicked in. Her head whipped toward the door. “Sorry. More than you’ll ever know”? He was flowers/limo guy.

  Something told her that things were not as they seemed, that he was not as he seemed. She sprinted for the door, pulled it open and ran toward the elevators, hoping to catch him. As she skidded around the corner in her b
are feet, she spotted him stepping inside.

  “Wait!” She ran as fast as her bare feet could carry her, sliding into the elevator right as the doors shut.

  His eyes met hers, and she stared into his. “Tell me the truth. Who are you? Why do you remember me?”

  “Kiss me again.”

  She instantly felt her lips tingle with desire. “What? No. And I asked you a question.”

  “Have dinner with me tomorrow night.”

  She blinked at him. “And then what?” She needed answers because none of this was adding up. He was the biggest dick she’d ever met. And a closet romantic who felt the need to apologize for a reason unbeknownst to her.

  “Then we see.” He leaned past her, providing the opportunity to take a delicious whiff of his freshly washed body and rich spicy cologne. He pushed the button for the next floor and then stepped back.

  As they exchanged looks, the elevator slowed and the doors slid open.

  “This is your stop. I’ll pick you up at eight,” he said with that deep hard tone lacking warmth and heavy on the alpha male.

  It dawned on her; this man was used to having his orders followed without question. Yes, he sounded like a general. She could see a resemblance between him and her brother Votan, the God of Death and War—the uncompromising arrogance, the lack of empathy, the utterly bizarre way of showing affection. Like a giant emotional moron.

  Deciding they’d gotten as far as they could for the moment, she stepped off the elevator and faced him. They locked eyes, her heart thundering away inside her chest, until the silver doors cut them off.

  “Wow.” She released a hot breath, placing her fingertips to her hot needy lips. “That was intense.” Add weird and so very confusing. But tomorrow night, she would get to his bottom—I mean him. The bottom of him. I mean, of this.

  Yet, somehow, she sensed that the masculine enigma with a hard-as-hell disposition in that elevator was a man with a dark past. Yes, every cell in her body confirmed it. He was dangerous, lethal, and not who he said.

  And I think I have to date him to save the world.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Zac, God of Temptation and the most evil motherfucking badass deity on the planet, sat in the basement jail cell on the Island of El Corazón, contemplating his next move. Soon, Tula would come to set him free, and then the fun would begin.

  Step one: flee island with Tula.

  Step two: take Tula somewhere secluded.

  Step three: break her or kill her. Perhaps both?

  Step four: return to El Corazón and take revenge on these fucking annoying mermen.

  Step five: live happily ever after in a cloud of delusions and darkness because the one woman on the planet I love more than anything, who is so good, so pure, so loving that another like her will never exist again, and it makes me feel horribly guilty to even think of harming her because it merely validates that I have indeed lost my mind and succumbed to the plague—deep breath—I know that destroying her will destroy me.

  Zac’s black heart swelled with despair. This violent deity wasn’t him, and he somehow knew it despite being encased by a blanket of sickness.

  Jesus. I can’t allow her to free me. Tula had to run.

  “Zac!” Tula’s sweet voice filled the underground room.

  Zac got to his feet, his entire body electrified with a potent combination of fear and sadistic hunger. “Tula, do not come down here. Whatever you do!”

  Her panicked, sweet face appeared in the stairwell. “Why? What happened?”

  “You must go! You cannot free me.”

  She rushed toward him. “What did they do to you, Zac?”

  Dear gods, why won’t she listen? “They have done nothing. But you are not safe around me and, therefore, cannot set me free.”

  Through the bars, her innocent blue eyes gazed up at him. “Zac,” she said in a hushed voice, “whatever they have done to you, whatever lies Cimil has told you—I won’t let it stand. I know in my heart you will not harm me. I said as much when Minky kidnapped me and brought me here.”

  “She was right to do so,” he growled. “Because if you only knew the horrible things I plan to do once I am free, you’d understand that I must be tossed to the bottom of the ocean.”

  Tula’s sweet pink lips smiled with tenderness as she produced a set of keys. “Mr. Zac, you know I don’t like to swear, but my mamma didn’t raise no fool, so wake the hell up.” She shoved one key into the lock and began turning.

  “No! Tula! Do not do—”

  Click! Click! The door swung out, and Tula extended her hand. “Come, Zac. I love you, and you have to trust it will be okay.”

  His entire body shaking, he wanted to reach out to her, but the part of him that loved her wouldn’t allow it. The part of him that wanted to do harm, however?

  He rushed for her, his large hands threading through her soft golden locks. He pulled her toward him and gazed down into her eyes. “I’m going to hurt you, Tula.”

  “You mean you forgot to bring black jade? Because I didn’t.” She held up a shiny black ring on her pinkie.

  “That is not what I mean, but where’d you get that?”

  “Minky.” She flashed a loving, confident smile. “Now kiss me and accept that it was always you. You were meant for me, and nothing else matters.”

  Hungry for her taste and touch, Zac bent his head and pressed his lips to her warm mouth. Their tongues collided. Their bodies melted into each other. Their souls reached through the darkness, clawing at one another. His arms snaked around her petite frame, pressing the two of them tightly together. Gods, she feels so good, so right.

  “I love you, Tula,” he whispered between the fury of lapping tongues and sinful groans.

  “I love you, too.”

  Suddenly, everything around him ignited in a bright light. As if someone had pulled the stopper bottling up all that rage and darkness, Zac felt the poisons draining from his soul, replaced by Tula’s pure light.

  What is happening? All of the darkness had evaporated, leaving behind only a longing to never part from her. And just like that, he finally understood why she had been brought into his life; she was never meant to belong to him. He was meant to belong to her—to serve her, to keep her safe, to shield her pure soul from the wickedness that tempted all living creatures. The Universe had created her for a reason, and Cimil had been right; Tula was special, though he didn’t know why. He simply felt it deep inside every molecule of his being. And there was no one more suited to protect her than the God of Temptation, who understood all the threats the world had to offer.

  He broke the kiss and stepped back. “No. Stop.” As much as he desired her and loved her, as much as he ached for contact, no one could be allowed to threaten Tula’s innocence and purity. It was what made her special and allowed her to look past his flaws and love him unconditionally.

  Fucking hell. I can’t ever bed her. Irony at its finest. She was his ultimate temptation. But if he wanted her love, he could not change her. He could only protect her.

  “Zac? What’s the matter? Why did you stop kissing me?” Tula asked sweetly.

  “We’ll discuss it later. Right now, we must run and get the hell off this island.” He reached for her hand, and she quickly jerked it away.

  “Do you plan on killing me, or are you cured?” she asked.

  He looked at her with the deepest affection. “I am cured.”

  “Then why do you still have that look on your face, like you want to kill someone?”

  He blinked. “Because I may have to do so in order for us to leave this place; we cannot stay.” The mermen were about to sink his ass to the bottom of the ocean. And then who would protect Tula? He was the only one capable. The only one.

  “Please don’t kill any more, Zac. Not even to save my life—I’m begging you.” She reached for his hand.

  He smiled softly, unable to deny her anything. Except the truth. “Yes, my sweet mortal. I will not kill anyone,” he lied. “
Now let us go before they discover I’m free.”

  Cimil stood at the foot of her custom-made, XXL bed in her three-story mansion overlooking Hollywood, staring at her mate, Roberto. She loved the way he slept, with his strong arms crossed over his chest, his tall body stretched out like a plank, a golden staff in his hand.

  Pharaohs. So adorable. She would have to get his favorite snack this morning—bloody Mary. Mary was one of Roberto’s many snack buddies. She had buckteeth, no common sense, and a general miserableness that could turn off the horniest of men, vampires included. But Roberto loved her bitter blood.

  Cimil left the room and headed down the hallway, where her four children remained snug in their little coffins. They were only half vampire, but they really got a kick out of role-playing, and lately they’d all decided to be Dracula.

  So cute. My personal little horror show pets! But not forever. Eventually, the Universe would right herself, and Cimil’s babies would turn good. Mostly. After all, I am their mother.

  As she took the spiral staircase down, Cimil’s phone vibrated in her bright fuzzy yellow bathrobe. “Hey-low!”

  “Cimil! It is I, Roen. Your brother has escaped with the girl.”

  “What the furry fartsicles?” She tripped and tumbled down the stairs, landing on the tile floor with a loud thump. “Ouch!”

  “Cimil, this is no time for your games.”

  “I know that! Annual Stumble Down Stairs Day was last month. Ugh! I think I broke something.”

  “Ask me if I care.”

  “Do you care?” Please say yes. I’m feeling needy.

  “No.”

  Jerk!

  “Cimil,” he added, “I don’t know what you are planning, but we will not rest until your brother is caught and punished.”

  “Now you ask me if I care,” she replied. Because she’d say no, and then who’d feel stupid now?

  “Where is Zac, Cimil?” Roen growled. “And no more bullshit because we have your unicorn. If you ever want to see her again, you will find your brother and return him to our island.”

  “What the hell! You have Minky?” Cimil couldn’t believe this.