SUN GOD SEEKS...SURROGATE?

by Mimi Jean Pamfiloff

  I rushed outside. “Emma, calm down!” I yelled.

  “I’m going to kill him, Penelope! Kill him!” She looked down at the man who lay on the ground writhing in pain. “Do you hear me, Tommaso? Do you? You’re a dead man. You fucking traitor!”

  Tommaso? This had been the man who’d betrayed her.

  “Lock him up,” I commanded the two Uchben soldiers, who suddenly resembled deer in the headlights.

  “We were given orders to take care of him,” the taller of the two spoke up.

  Emma screamed at the top of her lungs. “No! I get that honor. Me!”

  The soldier shifted his weight. “No. We were given the order to care for him, make sure his wounds are bandaged.”

  The soldier helped Tommaso stand. I could tell he was a man who’d seen better days; he was very thin and haggard. His dark hair was straggly and his eyes—hell, they’re turquoise—could only be described as desolate.

  “Who? Who told you take care of him?” I asked the soldier.

  Unexpectedly, Tommaso reached for Emma’s hand. “I would never betray you.”

  She snapped it away. “Liar! It should be you who’s trapped. Not Guy!”

  Zac chimed in. “Emma, he tells the truth. Guy told me before he left—in case anything happened. Tommaso did not betray you; he went back as a spy, to prove himself to us and the Uchben.”

  Emma froze. “What are you trying to say?”

  Tommaso, a braver soul than I, stepped toward her. “Guy had me free your grandmother to gain her trust and get me back inside the Maaskab. But I got caught when I saved that woman—they said she was an angel and were torturing her with their sick fucking experiments.”

  Um. Wow. I wasn’t sure which part of the story was more shocking, the freeing of Emma’s grandma or the part about the angel.

  I went with the latter.

  “Angel? Like, as in, fluffy wings, lives in heaven…yadda yadda?”

  Tommaso gave a nod.

  Hmmm. So we had gods, vampires, ex-vampire demigods (like Andrus and Niccolo), evil priests (Maaskab), vampire evil priests (Mobscuros)—or are they now dead ex-vampire evil priests?

  I think we call those “dead.”

  Oh yeah.

  Then there were the gods’ mortal daughters (Payals); demigod Payals who were immortal (like Emma); a half-vampire, half-human baby (Niccolo and Helena’s baby); an ex-god who’s now mortal (Kinich); a human who’s now a god with no dang clue about her mortality status and is pregnant with the ex-god’s baby (that one is me, in case you were wondering); leprechauns; and—deep breath—angels.

  Well, goody. Now the only thing missing from our little paranormal soap opera were the magical talking animals.

  You forgot about Cimil’s unicorn.

  I wondered if it talked.

  “I don’t fucking believe you!” Emma screamed. Her face was wrath personified. No, wait. Devastated. Nooo…Shit! Pissed! I jumped in front of Tommaso to shield him because there was no doubt in my mind she was about to split the man down the middle like a baked potato about to receive all the fixings.

  “Emma! Stop!” I yelled.

  “Goddamn him! How could Guy lie to me like that? How could he?” she screamed.

  I brushed her shoulder. “I don’t know, Em.”

  But I did know.

  And, I guessed, so did she.

  When all was said and done, the gods couldn’t help being who they were; their hardwiring would always win, always take precedence over personal loyalties. It was exactly as Kinich said…Guy had been a fool to think he could have a relationship, because sooner or later he’d put his role first and break Emma’s heart.

  Goddammit. Kinich was right. I didn’t want him to be. I wanted to believe there was hope for us still.

  Emma reached around me, clawing for Tommaso. “And where the fuck is my grandmother?”

  He stepped back, avoiding Emma’s deadly hands. “Emma, you need to know, your grandmother, she—”

  “Where! Where is she, you motherfucker! And where the hell is Guy?” Emma’s face turned redder than a beet.

  Tommaso stared at the ground, speaking softly, “The last time I saw them, they were facing off—Guy was winning. I don’t know if she’s still alive.”

  Oh man. Maybe it wasn’t such a bad thing that Guy was trapped somewhere. Because if he’d been there inside this vacuous airplane hangar with Emma, she’d have it decorated with his man parts by now.

  Emma’s face, still filled with an unspeakable rage, turned paler than a scoop of vanilla ice cream. She threw up on the cement.

  I steadied her so she wouldn’t fall over. “Are you okay, Emma?”

  She slowly rose and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. “Morning sickness,” she mumbled.

  Oh. Add half-immortal Payal, half-god baby to the list.

  Not knowing what else to say, I went for cheery. Not the best call of my life. “Wow! Congratulations,” I said. “Does Guy know?”

  “Uh-uh,” she replied.

  Wow again. This was turning out to be one giant cluster.

  “You need to rest.” I turned to one of the two Uchben standing with us. “Take her to her room.” I glanced at Tommaso. “And take him down to the hospital.”

  The soldiers nodded. Then, from the corner of my eye, I saw a large blond man, approaching us. He was covered in dirt and dressed in black. “Viktor!”

  He looked like he’d been through the vampire-Maaskab ringer. “Oh my God!”

  Then I noticed he held a woman in his arms. The hole in my heart filled up.

  It was her.

  “You brought her back,” I whispered, not believing my eyes.

  The smile on his face said it all.

  “Mom.” I stroked her cheek. “It’s me.” Her heavy lids parted. “Is she okay? What did they do to her?” I asked Viktor.

  With deep regret, he replied, “They tortured her.”

  Simultaneously, my blood boiled and my heart sank. They had tortured her. My mother. What kind of sick, sick beings would torture someone so sweet and kind. For what purpose? She had nothing to give them, no information to share. The only explanation was that they did it for their enjoyment.

  I would kill every fucking last one of them.

  “Penelope? Baby, is it really you?” my mother mumbled.

  “Yes, it’s me. You’re safe now.”

  I looked into Viktor’s cobalt blue eyes. They were filled with the deepest joy I’d ever seen in a man.

  “How can I thank you for saving her?” I asked him.

  “Actually, it was Tommaso who saved her life.”

  I froze. Hadn’t Tommaso just said that he rescued a…?

  Nooo.

  I looked at Tommaso, who now stood to my side. Then I looked at my mom, still cradled in Viktor’s arms. Then at Tommaso. Then at her.

  Nooo.

  CHAPTER 39

  Eight Days Later, New Year’s Eve

  Hell certainly wasn’t something delivered in a handwoven Easter basket, as Cimil liked to say. No. Hell was delivered in the form of helplessness and unanswered questions. Hell was spending every minute of every day wondering when the end would come, obsessed with stopping it but not knowing how.

  Why did I say this? The plain and simple truth was that we’d won the battle, but not the war. Cimil continued to hear nothing from the dead, and since people died all the time that meant their souls were still moving on to another plain of existence. She likened it to rats jumping off a sinking ship. So when or how would the world end? She couldn’t say.

  But we weren’t giving up. Not now. Not ever. We would focus every resource on finding any remaining Maaskab and crush them. We had a few solid leads, but without Guy and Niccolo leading our military, we were no longer a well-oiled machine. More like a rusty tractor that would get the job done, but not as quickly or efficiently.

  So, after eight long days of heartbreaking drama (sprinkled with intermittent joy because we’d rescued my mother—t
he best Christmas present I’d ever received—and Viktor, her new BFF, who spent every waking moment by her side), I realized we were getting nowhere in our daily summits.

  “I am calling for a two-day recess. I need to rest.” I stood at the head of the summit table, rubbing little circles over my temples. “My brain is officially mush.”

  “There is one more topic we must address,” said Fate, “before we take our leave.”

  I was too tired to snap at her for breaking protocol and not flagging the agenda topic when we’d opened the meeting. “What?”

  “We must formally recognize the interim leaders of the Uchben and vampires.”

  “How does that work?” I asked with a long sigh.

  “Our laws are clear,” Bees stated, “the right hand for each leader is automatically chosen. We need only record the transition of power.”

  That sounded easy. “So, Gabrán and who else?” I said.

  Zac stood and shook his head. “No. Helena will now be the leader of the vampires. Emma will rule the Uchben.”

  Huh? “You can’t be serious,” I said.

  “It is law,” Bees said, plucking one of her loyal subjects from the lapel of her yellow blazer and popping him back atop her head.

  Well, weren’t Emma and Helena going to be happy. I wondered if they even knew about this law. “Doesn’t anyone think it’s a little strange?”

  The gods exchanged glances.

  “I rule the House of the Gods,” I clarified. “Helena is essentially the vampire queen. Emma the leader of the Uchben?” I was about to add that little tidbit about my grandmother leading the Maaskab, but couldn’t bring myself to say the words aloud.

  They all mumbled “no” and shook their heads.

  Okeydokey. Well, I thought it was weird. Really weird.

  “Fine. Let me break the news, though.” With their men missing, this wasn’t going to be a fun conversation.

  CHAPTER 40

  I closed the meeting and snuck out quickly. I wanted to make my daily rounds—to see my mother, Emma, and Helena—without my loyal and dedicated bodyguard, Zac. After eight days of staring at his annoyingly masculine body, I needed a break. No, he hadn’t tried any of his moves, but the tension—unmistakably infused with love—spewed from every pore of his body. And the way I caught him staring at me when he thought I wasn’t paying attention, well, I knew it was only a matter of time before he’d say or do something. And I wasn’t ready to go there. Not with him. Not with Kinich. Not with anyone. There simply wasn’t any time for distractions when so much hung in the balance.

  Funny, you sound just like Kinich now.

  Ugh…Kinich. Where are you?

  I placed my hand on my lower belly and rubbed it in a little circle over my T-shirt. Why did it all still feel like a dream? I certainly didn’t feel pregnant—except for being tired and passing out a lot—and my body looked the same. In any case, I started taking vitamins right away. Emma had bought some for herself and insisted I take them, too.

  I knocked on her bedroom door, hopeful she might have moved from the bed where she’d been the last week, eating junk food and watching reruns of Lost.

  “What?” she called out.

  I popped my head inside.

  Nope. There she was, curtains drawn, a large bowl of popcorn on her lap, her large eyes fixed on the television.

  “Did you at least take a shower?” I asked.

  “I took one yesterday,” she said between bites.

  I didn’t believe it; her short, red hair was matted into curly clumps.

  I sat down at the edge of the bed. “I have some news for you.”

  “Oh yeah?” She continued chewing like a cow enjoying its cud.

  “Emma, this is important.”

  “Yeah?” Her eyes remained locked on the TV.

  “Emma. We need to talk.”

  Chomp chomp chomp. “So talk.”

  But she wasn’t listening. She was wallowing. I marched over to the TV and shut it off.

  “Hey!” she protested. “I was watching that. Put it back on.”

  “We need to talk.” I walked over to the window and pulled open the curtains.

  Her eyes narrowed into little slits. “Get out.”

  “No. You said we were sisters. So as your sister, I’m not going to let you self-destruct—”

  “I’m not self-destructing!” she screamed. “I’m mourning!” She pounded her fists into the bed.

  “Dammit, Emma. Guy isn’t dead. We will find him.”

  “No! You don’t get it.” The tears poured from her red, swollen eyes.

  I walked over to her nightstand and handed her a box of tissues. “Then try explaining.”

  She sopped up her tears and threw the balled-up tissues into a large pile on the floor next to an even larger pile of dirty clothes. “Even if we free him, it’s over. Over. He lied to me. He betrayed me.”

  I lowered myself next to her. “He couldn’t help himself, Emma. You know that. He loves you. He loves you so much that it makes everyone around you feel sick with jealousy. Even me. I’d do anything to have a man want me that way. It…it’s like no one in the world exists, except you.”

  She shook her head. “I doesn’t matter. He made a choice—one that resulted in his killing my grandmother.”

  “We’re not sure about that, Emma,” I argued. “Tommaso just said Guy was fighting her.” But then I recalled what Guy had said about his standard policy of killing Maaskab. Would he have really spared Emma’s grandmother’s life? Not likely.

  “I’ll never be able to trust him again,” Emma whispered. “And without that, I can’t be with him. I’ll always be wondering and questioning his motives. His role—being a god—will always come first. I get it now.”

  She was right. Ironic really, because it was the exact same point Kinich had made. It was the reason my heart now sat inside my chest, begrudgingly beating, shattered in a million tiny pieces. How could the universe be so damn cruel? I’d never asked to love Kinich. It happened. And it wasn’t a crush or infatuation. It was the kind of connection that makes your soul ache, that makes you crazy inside your head because from the moment you meet, you realize how alone you were all along but never knew. Because suddenly, there’s this other being out there you can’t live without. You can’t breathe or eat or think of anything but him, of being in his arms and hearing his voice.

  So what was the point? Did the universe want to teach me how to feel hollow? Or what it was like to have my heart decimated? I simply didn’t know. I just…didn’t. And sadly, I no longer cared. Whatever I had with Kinich disappeared the moment he’d left me to deal with this mess all alone. My heart was in a place so dark, broken, and sad that no sunlight would ever touch it again. And it didn’t goddamn matter. Not one little bit. Because the world would end, along with everyone in it, if I didn’t find a way to suck it up.

  I patted Emma’s hand. “I understand. I do. But right now, we have bigger things to worry about.” I glanced at her stomach.

  “I know.” She sniffled and grabbed another tissue. “I can’t stop thinking about it. I wanted a baby so badly, and now I’m faced with losing him before he’s ever born. It’s really effed up.”

  “It’s a him?”

  She nodded. “I can feel him. It’s like I’m linked to the baby through my bond with Guy.”

  Amazing.

  “Well, he needs us to keep going,” I said quietly. “We can’t let it all end. We have a lot—and I mean a lot—of people depending on us,” I pointed out.

  “I don’t know how you do it, Penelope,” she said. “I don’t know how you keep going after everything.”

  Oh boy. Here goes. “That’s why I came to see you. I’m going to have help. You.”

  She pointed her finger at herself. “Me?”

  I explained the law and the outcome of the summit. Stunned, she stared at me in silence.

  I knew exactly how she felt. But who better to save the world than us? We had everything
to lose.

  “So what’s your move?” I asked, using her line.

  She frowned in silence for several moments. “I guess there’s only one option: fight.”

  I felt a huge weight lift, knowing Emma would be at my side. “Great. We reconvene in two days.”

  I hugged her and then wrinkled my nose. “Can you take a shower before the meeting? You smell kind of funky.”

  She laughed a little as I stood to leave.

  “Penelope? Is it true? About your mom?”

  Good frigging question. It had been gnawing at me these past eight days, but my efforts to get the gods to talk came up empty-handed. They flat out refused to speak. That meant I’d have to get the truth from my mother, but she’d been in a vegetative state for the last eight days. I was beginning to worry she wouldn’t make it—a thought I didn’t dare say out loud.

  “I kind of hope so,” I replied. “Then maybe she could call in few favors for us.” We were going to need all the help we could get.

  “Well,” she said, “if she’s not, maybe we can call in the naked leprechauns.”

  ***

  My next stop was the Uchben hospital, where I received my usual debriefing from the doctors and made my rounds to check on the women, the Payals, who were now up and about, ready for release.

  So what would we do with them? That was pickle number one. The women collectively suffered from amnesia. Maybe it was for the best, because heaven only knew what the Maaskab had done to these poor souls. But surely they had loved ones looking for them or who believed they were dead. Discovering their identities was a must, and we’d work around the clock until we did.

  That brought us to pickle number two. We hadn’t killed off all the Maaskab and believed they had sects throughout the globe. The women wouldn’t be safe until we’d exterminated every last Scab.

  Total effing pickle.

  One pickle at a time, Pen. One pickle at a time.

  I sighed and pasted on a bright smile. Viktor’s distinctive voice, deep with an unrecognizable accent, was rambling away when I entered my mother’s hospital room.