Goddess of Forgetfulness

by Mimi Jean Pamfiloff

  She reached out her hand and grabbed Távas’s arm, opening up the floodgates. He dropped to the floor unconscious.

  “Let’s see how good you are at begging.”

  When Távas woke, it was to the worst headache he’d ever had, and his brain felt like overcooked noodles. He moved his arms, wanting to press his palms to the sides of his head, quickly realizing he had been duct taped to a chair in his room.

  What the fuck? He jerked his wrists, feeling the tape bite into his flesh.

  “Hiya, sweetheart.” Now fully clothed in her little dress, the Goddess of Forgetfulness sat on his king-sized bed, scarfing down a plate of food.

  “I see you’re enjoying the dinner I ordered us.”

  She shoveled a giant forkful of salmon into her mouth. “Hmmm…” She rolled her eyes in ecstasy.

  “I’m pleased you like it,” he said. “Now untie me.”

  She swallowed her food. “Nope. I have plans for you, Távas.”

  Damn her. Why had she not gone when he’d given her the chance? She had no idea what she’d gotten herself into, who he truly was: the most evil fucking bastard on the planet. There was no limit to the pain he could inflict on the masses, nor the horrific things he’d done, all to serve his need for power.

  “Let me go, goddess, or you will regret it.”

  “I think not.” She set her plate of unfinished food on the nightstand and scooted off the bed. “Because now that I’ve been unshackled from the restraints of my morality, I finally get to do anything and everything I’ve ever wanted. Starting with torturing the hell out of you.” She plucked the steak knife from her plate, stood, and sauntered over. The criminal gleam in her eyes gave him cause for worry.

  “Whatever you’re thinking of doing, goddess, just remember that nothing in this world comes without a price.”

  She laughed into the air. “Shut your fucking piehole, Távas.” She stepped forward and drove the knife right into his thigh.

  “Ahhh! Sonofabitch. Why did you do that?” Not that he didn’t deserve it, but hell! That hurt.

  She wagged her finger at him. “Uh-uh-uhh… The question you should be asking is what it will take to keep me from doing it again.”

  “You do not frighten me.” He moved to kick her, only to realize she’d taped his ankles, too.

  “Perhaps I don’t frighten you yet, but let me tell you how this is going to go.” She stood directly in front of him, feet apart, knife balanced on the tip of her index finger.

  Impressive. He liked a woman who could wield a steak knife.

  She continued, “First, I’m going to ask you some questions, and you are going to answer. Every time you lie—and I’ll know when you do—I will cut something off. Once I run out of interesting body parts to remove, I will go into the next room and get to work on Louie. And then, when I’m all done, and I have everything I want from you, I will unleash my powers. Everyone will forget who they are, where they came from, and any knowledge they’ve acquired since birth. Except for you, of course, because you’re immune to me.” She smiled wickedly. “It’s gonna be fun.”

  Hell, normally he would be the first to agree, but things were different now.

  “What do you want to know?” he asked.

  “Who are you?”

  “I’ve already told you that,” he replied.

  She shoved the knife forward, slicing into his calf.

  “Ahh!” The warm blood dribbled from his leg.

  “Oops. Looks like you’ve sprung a leaky-poo, Mr. Liath. Care to try that answer again?”

  No. He did not. The more she knew, the worse for him. And he needed to protect Louie—from who he used to be, from who he could become again. Damn, being good is exhausting.

  “Once more, Távas,” she said. “Who are you?”

  He had to lie. She couldn’t know the truth. “If I tell you, will you let Louie go?”

  “Nope. Besides, he’s still got a few more hours to go before he wakes up, and I’m not carrying him off while I’ve got you by the nut sack.” She looked up at the clock on the wall. “Sixty seconds. And give me the truth or the next jab will be in your crotch.”

  “You wouldn’t dare.”

  In reply, she placed the tip of the blade right over the bulge in his pants.

  She drove a hard bargain. “Fine. I, uh…I used to be in the record business—sales, specifically. I would like to claim that I was good at it, but I wasn’t. Mostly because I got into drugs, which led to a few scams and finally kidnapping.” The kidnapping part was true. He’d done plenty of that in his lifetime. Murder, too.

  “Liar!” She raised the knife, aiming right for his sacred jewels.

  “Gods! Okay! I’ll tell you what you want to know.”

  “Oh, I know you will. But I told you I’d take a piece of you if you lied. I meant it.” She strutted around him like a hungry cat, doing several laps. “I think I’ll leave your cock for last. But let me see… Perhaps an ear.” She nicked his right lobe with the tip of the blade. He winced. “Or perhaps a cheek?” She made a small cut into the soft flesh.

  “Goddess,” he growled, “whatever point you’re trying to make, you’ve made it. Put the knife away.”

  “Goddess? Don’t you mean ‘pathetic whore’—too skinny and pale to deserve your presence?”

  He hadn’t meant it. “I merely wanted you to leave.”

  “Oh,” she chuckled, “I’m not leaving.” She grabbed him by the hair and began sawing at the long strands.

  What the… “Not the hair.” He had worn it long since he was fifteen. It felt like a part of him.

  “You’re getting off lucky.” She tickled his nose with the thick lock. “Now, what is it you were about to tell me?”

  “I am not who I claim to be, as you suspected, but the reason I can’t tell you is for the good of that young man in the other room.”

  She stared into his eyes. “You’re telling me the truth.”

  He nodded.

  “Then I suppose I should reward you.” She took the knife, and he closed his eyes, expecting the reward to be another puncture wound.

  He felt a dull pressure slide up his leg and then his thigh. He opened his eyes, only to see her cutting away at half his pants.

  “Wait. No. Do not do that.” He wanted her more than she could ever comprehend, but if she fucked him, there’d be no turning back. It was the reason he’d tried to revolt her with his despicable behavior. Of course, his insatiable attraction got the best of him. Nevertheless, at the moment of truth when he was finally about to have the woman he’d wanted his entire life, he’d done the right thing. He’d pushed her away, knowing his lust couldn’t be sated with one measly night. He’d dreamt of her and him and of a life together for far too long. She doesn’t understand what this is.

  “I’ve got the knife and a wicked streak, not to mention superpowers. I can do anything I like.” She snickered.

  “No, dammit. Do not do this, goddess.” He struggled in the chair as she cut away half his pants, leaving him exposed on one side. On his upper half, he still wore his white shirt with the buttons torn off.

  She smiled at him with those big turquoise eyes, her lips pursed. Dammit, she was so beautiful. The way her golden hair caught the light and the light made her skin shimmer as if dusted with magic. She’d taken his breath away the first time he’d seen her and every moment since then. But most of all, he’d seen something in her that was impossible to forget—the selfless love he once had before this never-ending nightmare began. Not that he was a victim—that had only been the case initially. Once the darkness took hold, he’d stopped struggling and embraced his place in the world. It was like Cimil had told him all those years ago. “You can never be good, Ta’as. Because what is good without evil? What is love with hate? What is life without death? It’s all meaningless.” Cimil could never get his name right, but her prediction had been correct. The moment he’d surrendered to his role, everything in the universe felt right. Still, there was al
ways this small piece of him that longed to be good, to love, to open his eyes once more and truly see the beauty of a dawn.

  The goddess was just like those first rays of sunlight—utterly breathtaking—which was why he’d struggled to keep his distance. But the goddess kept popping out of thin air and bumping into him. After the third time, he knew it was no mistake that the two of them collided repeatedly. Just as we are doing now. Because what she did not know was that they were two sides of the same coin. The Universe had been trying to stick them back together.

  Which is why we cannot fuck.

  She sat across his nearly naked lap and wrapped her arms around his neck. “Umm…you feel delicious, Mr. Liath.”

  He looked at her sinfully beautiful face and delicate lips, feeling his cock stir.

  Distract her. “What is your name?”

  Her eyes widened. “Sorry?”

  “Your name? What is it?”

  She gave her head a little shake from side to side. “I don’t have one.”

  “What? How do you not have a name?”

  “What’s the point in having a name when no one will remember it?”

  “But they must call you something?”

  “Forgetty, Getty, Whatsherface. On a good day, it’s lady or ma’am. On a bad day it’s hey you.”

  “Those are not names worthy of a beautiful goddess.”

  She tweaked his nose. “I think you are right.”

  “What name have you always liked?” he asked, hoping to distract her long enough to think of a solution besides sating his lust between her thighs.

  “I’m not sure.” She poked her chin with her index finger and looked up at the ceiling. “How about Kianto Lacandon?”

  “Sounds like a cream for rashes. What does it mean?”

  “Goddess of diseases. I think it has a ring.”

  “While it certainly captures your deadly nature, it fails to capture your timeless beauty.”

  She shrugged. “I suppose.”

  “Any other names?”

  “I’ve always like Celine.”

  “Like the singer?” he asked.

  “Who doesn’t love her theme song for the Titanic?”

  Me. “And you call yourself evil?”

  “Good point. How about Gor?”

  “God of Thunder?” he asked.

  “No. Just short for gory.”

  He shook his head no.

  “Pookie?” she suggested.

  “Sounds like a fart.”

  “Oh, I know: Fuji, like the mountain. That’s powerful and magnificent.”

  “Reminds me of an apple, though I do admit, you’ve nailed the whole temptation and sin thing, so an apple-esque name isn’t out of the question.”

  She stared deeply into his eyes. “Then why did you reject me?” she whispered.

  Every cell of his being fought to lie, but just like he hadn’t been able to deny his attraction or keep away from her, he felt himself quickly giving in to his need to please her. It was like those stupid flowers. He’d wanted her to feel loved, but knew it could never be him, thus the note saying sorry.

  “Oh, feels like someone’s changed his mind about that rejection,” she purred.

  Likely the effect of her sitting on my nearly naked cock. The heat of her entrance pulsed through the fabric of his torn pants and her dress. I’m going to lose this battle, aren’t I?

  He sighed in defeat, the pull to submit to her overwhelming. “You’re too beautiful, goddess. Too perfect. Too everything I’ve ever wanted and do not deserve. That is the truth.”

  They locked eyes for several long breaths, and then she leaned forward and planted a soft kiss on his lips.

  The impact was instantaneous. Her warmth rushed through his body. He inhaled her scent, wanting to commit every floral note to memory. It was only a question of moments before he fully gave in to her.

  “Aurora,” he whispered. “Goddess of the sunrise, of a light consisting of natural, unfailing beauty that has managed to capture man’s attention since the first human walked the earth.”

  She stared into his eyes, showing him that light, and he knew he was lost.

  Her eyes teared as her soft pink lips curled into a gentle smile. “Aurora. I like it.”

  “Let me go now.”

  Her turquoise eyes narrowed. “Why?”

  “Just promise you’ll take Louie far, far away from me,” he whispered. “Cure him. Show him how to be good.”

  “What do you mean?” She spoke softly.

  “I am the Maaskab king, Aurora. I have been for over two thousand years. And my vacation is over.”

  She jerked her head back. “I-I don’t understand.”

  “What is there to understand? I’ve tried to resist you. I thought I could sate my needs by bedding you and still walk away. But that thin thread I’ve been hanging by has now snapped.”

  She covered her mouth as her mind put all of the pieces together.

  Yes, goddess. Connect the dots. He was a man so powerful that even the gods feared him. He’d once taken her brother Chaam and turned him into his puppet. He had once subdued nearly the entire population of vampires and made them his slaves. He’d even captured the gods, tormented them for decades, and made their lives a living hell, all for his entertainment. Of course, they could not die, so they eventually wiggled out of his trap, but no one could dispute the fact that he was the most evil, sadistic, cutthroat bastard on the planet.

  At least I was until four months ago.

  “You flipped,” she said, rising from his lap and going to sit on the edge of the bed to face him, her expression somewhere between sickened and fear. “You’ve been trying to keep us from bonding so you wouldn’t fall in love and turn back to your old evil self.”

  He nodded. “Very smart.” The sudden change had happened when he’d come across a crazy woman named Charlotte, who happened to be mated to one of his disciples, Tommaso. She’d come to their encampment in search of Tommaso, only to become their prisoner. It was then that she told Távas about the plague sweeping through the immortal community. Perhaps it was she who’d brought it to their camp. In either case, she knew exactly which buttons to push in order to trigger his change from monster to man.

  “After my transition,” he said, “I spent the first few weeks wandering the jungles of Southern Mexico near our camp, unsure of what had happened to me. Every sin, every cruel act I’d ever committed came back to haunt me—the result of growing a conscience, I suppose. However, being a pragmatic man, I knew I could not be the only Maaskab suffering with this affliction. So I used my gifts to seek out my toughest soldier, who’d gone AWOL months earlier: Cimil’s nanny. I can’t begin to tell you how strange it was to see my most giftedly cruel soldier of the dark arts, who I trained with my own two hands, lovingly holding one of Cimil’s babies.

  “But it was then that I remembered Louie’s mother. Seventeen years ago, she had been just another human we’d intended to use for sacrifice. But something about her, something deep inside her soul spoke to mine. We became attached to one another, and I set her free. I told my men that she’d escaped, but not before she and I made love. A year later, one of my men came to me with her head in a box—a gift he’d thought would please me. ‘There is a child, but I saved it for the full moon next week,’ he’d said.”

  “What did you do?” Aurora asked, her pale face filled with anguish.

  “After I slaughtered ten of my men—the ones involved in killing Louie’s mother—Cimil appeared. I had met her many times over the centuries, so it was no surprise when she showed up to escort my men’s souls to wherever she takes bad people. But this time, I asked her to take Louie, too. ‘Far, far away from me. Somewhere I will never find him,’ I’d said. She agreed in exchange for one thing.”

  “What?” Aurora asked.

  “She knew that you and I would meet some day—a premonition, I suppose—and she made me promise that I would not pursue you.”

  “Oh gods. I sho
uld’ve known.” She balled her fists. “All this time, Cimil knew about you.”

  “Yes. But it doesn’t matter, goddess. Deal or no deal, there is no future for us. Cimil knows that. I know that. And when I turned good and asked her to help me find Louie a few months ago, she said she didn’t know where he was but that she’d help me search for him if I helped you. She said you needed a break, that things hadn’t been so easy for you lately.”

  “The rave tour was her idea?”

  “It was all for you.” And, frankly, he’d been eager to be close to this beautiful goddess, even if it meant keeping her at arm’s length.

  “So Cimil made you promise not to get involved with me, but then made you help me?” she asked.

  “Typical, sadistic Cimil. However, one look at you, and I knew it would be impossible to stay away. You must believe me when I say, Aurora, that you are so much more than you know, even if mortals do not remember you.” He drew a slow breath and let it go with a sigh. “You matter even if the world doesn’t know you exist, just as you told Louie tonight.”

  Yes, he’d been listening to her every word, and it had been his downfall now that he thought about it. Because from that moment on, he was in serious jeopardy of falling in love. She understood something that had taken him a thousand years to comprehend: we all had a place. We all mattered. Like a pebble matters to the ripples on a pond. Like a single note matters to a song.

  “I have to go,” she said.

  Still taped to the goddamned chair, he struggled to free himself. She needed to accept the truth. “Aurora—”

  “Don’t call me that! I am the nameless one. The Goddess of Forgetfulness. And you are wrong; I am nobody.”

  “You are my light. And it is already done.”

  “What? What’s done?” she asked.

  “You opened your heart to me, to the possibility of me, the first time we kissed. It is I who has resisted our bond.” He gave her a stern look. “I’m no longer resisting.”

  “No. No. I don’t believe y—”