Accidentally in Love With...a God?

by Mimi Jean Pamfiloff

  That was odd. Why would he give me something so special?

  “Look,” he said. “I just want to say I’m sorry.”

  “For what?” I asked, wondering if he meant the intrusive kiss, the kidnapping, or something else.

  “For treating you as badly as I did. I resented you. I saw the assignment as having to baby sit Mr. Santiago’s little pet. But I was wrong. You’re anything but his pet—more like a hungry, rabid cheetah that wants to take his arm off.”

  If Tommaso only knew the truth; I’d just tried to chew off Guy’s lips. How sad.

  “And,” he added, “I want you to know, I truly sympathize with your situation. I lost my entire family in a freak accident. I was never able to say goodbye or tell them I loved them.”

  “I’m so sorry. That’s awful. Just—awful.”

  “I tried to tell myself it’s just the way of the universe. Our losses make us who we are, but there are days I’d give anything to undo the past. Anything at all.”

  I understood exactly what he meant. The pain. The loss. That had to be what my parents were experiencing right now. But I wasn’t gone. I wasn’t dead. I was taking a damned bubble bath while they suffered. It wasn’t right. “Does this mean you’ll help me? All I want is to safely contact my parents. There has to be a way.”

  His eyes narrowed. “No. No matter what, I still owe my obedience and loyalty to the Uchben. They’re my family now,” his tone left no room for negotiation.

  “And to the…” I hesitated. “Gods?” I still couldn’t quite say the word “gods” without feeling corny.

  He nodded.

  “But I’m part—you know,” I argued.

  He didn’t flinch. “I know what you are. But, sorry. Doesn’t change a thing. I have my orders.” The black silk fabric tightened around his biceps as he crossed his arms.

  I somehow felt more sorry for him than myself; even though I’d lost my grandmother, my parents were still alive. He’d lost everyone. “Okay. I’ll try not to hold a grudge and smite you.”

  He made a deep chuckle. “Thanks. Because I’ve taken all the smiting I can handle for one day.” He moved to the side of tub and sat on the edge. “Which brings me to why I’m actually here. I wanted to thank you for standing up against Cimil. I didn’t know you’d done that until you mentioned it to Mr. Santiago.”

  I hadn’t had much time to think about that shocking moment, but now that I knew about my ancestry, my sudden burst of strength made a lot more sense. I only wished I’d discovered it sooner and understood how to control it.

  “You were pretty out of it when I clocked her,” I pointed out. “But she only tried to wring your neck because you told her to let me go. So I think we’re even.”

  A warm, glowing smile swept across his face. I craved something to scare off the hideous feelings lurking in the back of my mind, including the raw humiliation from my kiss with Guy. Tommaso’s smile felt like that something. What. Am. I. Thinking? Didn’t get enough drama today, Emma? I scolded myself. “I need to get some rest so if you don’t mind?”

  “Of course.” He shrugged, making the black silk of his shirt slide over his perfectly sculpted chest. He was almost to the door when he turned around. “Emma, I have to ask you something.”

  “I’m sort of a captive audience here.”

  “Guy told everyone what happened and how he’s bonded to you through your grandmother’s blood.”

  “Yeah. So?”

  Tommaso’s expression teetered on discomfort. “Emma, you may not know this, but others are connected to him, yet they weren’t able to hear him while he was trapped.”

  Others? I felt jealous all of a sudden. Did he have a harem of women he was bonded to? He was a sexy, powerful god. I bet he “bonded” every night. Maybe even three times a day with two women at a time. No wonder he’d rejected me. I was just a little girl in his eyes, completely incapable of satisfying a man like him. Or any man.

  He continued, “That means your connection to him is very strong.” He paused, looked down at his feet, and then snapped his head up. “Do you plan to stay with him? Do you love him?” he asked.

  Wasn’t expecting that question. What was with these men putting me on the spot like this? I swallowed then nervously cupped a mound of bubbles. “No. I mean—I have feelings for him, but I can’t explain what they are. It’s not like there’s any point of reference for our relationship. He’s been a part of my life for so long, but not a day went by that I didn’t pray he’d leave. Now that I’m in this situation, I feel almost like he’s a necessity, that I won’t survive without him.”

  “Don’t let him intimidate you, Emma. And if it’s protection you’re worried about, there are other options. All you have to do is take your request to the Uchben chiefs, and we’ll protect you.”

  “He’ll never allow that. Like he said, we’re bonded.”

  “Then break it. Release him.”

  My heart stopped. “Can I do that? How?”

  “Kaacha’al lu’um, tumben k’iin,” Tommaso recited.

  “Catch a loom, tomb bent inn?” I repeated with a clumsy tongue. “What does it mean?”

  “Literally, ‘broken earth, new day.’ It’s Mayan—from an ancient prayer. It means you wish to break your ties with the past.”

  “What will happen? Will it hurt when I say it?” I imagined a giant lightning bolt hitting me on the head.

  “No, it’s a painless procedure.” I could see he thought my question was silly, but resisted teasing me. Brownie point for Tommaso. “The oath he took to create the bond with your grandmother, which now binds your blood to him—and therefore to other gods—allows them to keep tabs on you more easily. To protect you, of course.”

  “So, it’s like having a direct line to the gods?” I asked.

  “More like Low-Jack, or twenty-four hour emergency roadside assistance.”

  “So it’s not some weird force field of protection?” I wondered.

  “Nope. Sorry. You’re still susceptible to colds, accidents, and horribly psychotic Maaskab. The bond simply creates a connection, a current of energy that links you to Guy ”

  “Guy mentioned that’s why Cimil fought to protect me.” It all sounded so strange to me. Bonds, oaths, it was like a supernatural fraternity.

  “The gods are compelled to protect you as one of their own—their light runs through you. You saw how Cimil was with the rest of us,” he replied.

  “You’re not under their protection?”

  Tommaso’s eyes drifted to my chest.

  “Hey! Stop that.” I scooped a few handfuls of bubbles and made a larger heap over my breasts.

  He arched a brow. “Sorry. Can’t help it. You have very nice bubbles.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Time for you to leave.”

  He stuck out his lower lip making an exaggerated pout, his golden eyes sparkling. “Fine, but to answer your question, it’s a different for us Uchben. We gave our oath to them.”

  “And you can break it—leave at any time?” I asked.

  “Yes, Emma. I’m not a prisoner. I’m an Uchben because this is how I choose to live,” he said.

  “How did you become one?” I wondered if they recruited in malls. Or maybe online?

  “My father was an archeologist, working in Guatemala, when his camp was attacked by a group of Maaskab. He was found by the Uchben, barely alive. After he recovered, they made him an offer. I think he said yes, just because he’d have access to so many resources. He became one of the Uchben.”

  “That’s strange. He decided to be a soldier?”

  “No. He didn’t become a guard, he continued his work. There are Uchben of every imaginable kind: doctors, scholars, politicians, even beauticians.”

  That explained Tommaso’s fabulous haircut.

  “Well, whatever you choose to do, Emma, about the oath, just remember, you have other options.”

  “Options. Do you mean, like you? Protecting me, I mean?” A very large part of me hoped he’d s
ay no. Tommaso was smart, mysterious, handsome, strong, had a sense of humor, and was…human. That alone felt special. If he said “yes,” it would change things, make life much more complicated. Because maybe I needed both Guy and Tommaso, just in different ways. One belonged to reality and the other, well, to my fantasies and nightmares.

  “Absolutely.” He leaned down and planted a soft kiss on my mouth, then left.

  Hiccup!

  Chapter TWENTY-SIX

  “Votan, I’ve heard so much about you. What a pleasure! A true pleasure.” The slender, aged man with a graying beard vigorously shook Guy’s hand and then practically yanked him through the front door of his Italian countryside-style cottage. Guy had heard many stories about the eccentric Catholic priest, but no one mentioned his exuberance.

  “Kind of you to make time for me, Father Xavier. I’ve heard great things about your work.”

  “Please, call me Xavier. I don’t go by Father anymore.” He pointed to his collarless neck and chuckled. He wore a blue running suit and slippers.

  Father Xavier worked in the Vatican City archives for thirty years until he retired to work for the Uchben. He was one of their most famous scholars. He now lived on the compound and ran the Uchben’s Historical Research Department. They’d originally sought him out because he was an expert on Mesoamerican culture, Greek mythology, and the works of Friar Bernardino de Sahagún, the Franciscan missionary who traveled with the early Spanish explorers, documenting the Aztec and Mayan folklore.

  “As you wish, Xavier, thank you for making time so late in the evening.”

  “Any time. I can’t tell you how excited I am to meet you in the flesh,” Xavier said, fervently looking Guy up and down as if he were a rare relic.

  It didn’t bother Guy much. He was used to being treated like a, well, god. Except by Emma. She treated him like a used doormat. That’s right, a used one. Because new doormats were at least shown the respect of being proudly displayed at the front door. Used ones got thrown out back to collect dirt and mud from the yard.

  Really, who did she think she was, anyway? Toying with him like that. One minute she was throwing herself at that unworthy human, Tommaso. Then she was rubbing her tempting little body to all over him. And it wasn’t because he had powerful pheromones, either. He’d been suppressing them around her. Best he could, anyway. After all, keeping his emotions in check was a challenge around her. But did she honestly believe she could manipulate him into letting her call her parents? She must have been able to sense his lust for her through the bond. She thought to control him with it. And, ho-ho, and what a masterful performance! Nearly had him convinced!

  That’s not why you left, though, is it? It’s because you can’t have her, and you know it. And what about at the cenote? You felt her lust then. No faking it there.

  He felt the heavy thud of doubt kick him in the gut. She couldn’t—it’s not…no. Impossible. She’d told him a hundred times how much she hated him and wanted him gone. She’d rejected his protection, and even now, she seemed to want nothing more than to return home and take her chances with the Maaskab.

  But despite the bitter words she’d repeated over the years, his mind couldn’t help but toy with the notion of Emma’s desire perhaps being genuine.

  He swallowed hard.

  If it had been, then she’d now be more furious than ever for the way he’d walked out.

  She’d be bat-shit-livid.

  He now needed to know if she’d just been pretending. Why was dealing with women so difficult?

  Stop your whining and man up! You’re a warrior. A god. You were put on this Earth to fight and protect. Not fuddle around like a love-sick human. He sighed.

  “Oh, manners. Such terrible manners. Please, sit Votan, or Mr. Santiago? What do you go by these days?”

  “You can call me Guy.”

  Xavier raised one brow. “Guy Santiago. An odd choice for such a being of your stature, but modern—yes, I like it.”

  Guy shrugged, “That’s what Emma calls me. I guess I’ve become accustomed to it.”

  Xavier gave one polite nod. “Can I get you tea? Coffee? Oh, I know. A nice Chianti.” Xavier swept away a large stack of magazines from the small dining table. They all had a woman named Tyra on the cover.

  “Wine will be fine, thank you.” Guy took a seat at the table, barely fitting on the tiny cherry wood chair. “Listen, Xavier, I do not need to tell you how sensitive what I’m about to tell you is.”

  “No. No need. I may not believe your kind is above the Creator, but I still respect your place—and power—so no need to worry there.” Xavier removed a squatty, bulbous wine bottle from the cupboard and poured two glasses.

  “Sorry?” Guy asked.

  “Well, obviously, I am, or was, a Catholic priest, but I didn’t quit simply to serve the Uchben. In fact, I believe the roles might have been complimentary to each other. I see you as another one of God’s precious creations. Only, the other precious creations sharing this world don’t know about you. But, that’s not important. What matters is that we all believe—have faith in His plan.”

  “I’m assuming you do?” Guy said.

  “Oh, yes. Yes. Everything happens for a reason.”

  Interesting man. Guy wasn’t much for philosophizing about the Creator or His plans. It wasn’t that he hadn’t thought about it over the tens of thousands of years. But he’d simply come to the conclusion that like all beings, he’d never really know the truth. And sharing his assumptions was pointless because it didn’t change his circumstance or purpose. He could believe he was the Easter Bunny himself, and it wouldn’t make him warm or fuzzy!

  “So, what can I do for you?” Xavier asked. “I heard the latest in this morning's debrief.”

  The Uchben were excellent at communication. So much so, that they proudly called their network The Hive. All it took was one message to one Uchben, and everyone else was as good as informed. It was one of their key strengths.

  Guy took a small sip of wine and rolled the ruby red liquid over his tongue. Gods how he’d missed the taste of it. “Then you already know about the jars I found on that ship and the portals being blocked?”

  “Yes, fascinating. Isn't it? The Maaskab have certainly honed their skills. And since you've been gone so long, I guess you can only imagine the progress they've made. If we'd only found out sooner—”

  “Yes,” Guy said. “Well, that couldn't be helped. My communication channels were a bit limited while I was on vacation.”

  “Ha!” Xavier snorted. “Yes. Vacation. Funny.”

  “Right. So, before we attempt to free the other gods, I need you to do a little homework for me—find out how the Maaskab are sealing the portals.”

  “We're already on it,” Xavier said. “I've got several people combing through the database.” He leaned across the table “I even called in a few favors at the Vatican,” he whispered.

  “Thank you. I want to know everything, even if it might seem irrelevant.”

  “We’ll be very thorough as usual; however, we'll need more than a day.”

  “How many? I can't afford to leave my brothers and sisters festering much longer. Especially now. The Maaskab must know I'm free and that I’ve figured out what's going on. They're probably preparing for our return to Mexico now.”

  “More the reason for you to know what you’re walking into, my friend. But I promise, we'll do everything we can to move quickly. But something like this, well, I could be studying it the rest of my life! A real live Pandora's Box.”

  “Pandora?” Guy knew the stories of the Greek gods; after all, he’d inspired many of their stories. In fact, it was around the time of the Greeks that the gods had to implement more stringent controls over the way they'd been interfering with the human world. If they weren't careful, people might resolve to leave their fates in the gods’ hands, and that was never their intention. The gods could influence, sway the odds, even perform minor miracles. But at the end of the day, humans drove th
e fate of their world. Fourteen gods could do little to control billions of people like tiny robots. Thus, they implemented their policy of surgical intervention, only stepping in when events were leading toward an irreparable path. Like any good parent, the gods needed to nurture humans to evolve and mature on their own, not by brute force, which would only serve to create a species of dependent non-thinkers. That would be wrong, not to mention annoying and impractical.

  “Well, yes,” Xavier explained. “I mean, the contents don't sound the same, your jar only contained one ingredient. But did you know Pandora’s box was actually a jar and—”

  Guy interrupted, “This is something quite different than a plague, famine, or good old-fashioned evil. The contents instantly incinerated my entire body when I reached inside. Of course, I ended up back in the cenote where there was a pleasant trap waiting for me—made from the same dark energy. It had the same smell, for lack of a better word, and it was powerful. Only a god could have taught the Maaskab to do this.”

  “Hmmm...” Xavier nodded. “Did the jar do anything when you took the lid off?”

  “No. Nothing happened until I reached my hand inside.” He suddenly felt foolish for admitting his curiosity had gotten the best of him. His confidence was sometimes both a blessing and a curse. Usually, it was just a blessing.

  “And how many jars did you say there were?” asked the ex-priest.

  “Pizzaro showed me the map Cimil had given him. At the time, I saw at least two dozen scattered around Latin America and Europe. It was as if someone purposefully tried to make it laborious to collect them all. I just don’t know if Cimil wanted them because she had a hand in all this and needed to cover her tracks, or for some other motive. It's anyone's guess.”

  “But why wouldn’t she send the Uchben to retrieve them?” Xavier asked.

  It was the same question Guy had, and the only conclusion was that she didn't want the other gods to know.

  “When we release the other gods, we'll catch her and find out.” Guy stated coldly. That said, there was still the matter of another god roaming free. Emma had counted only eleven voices out of fourteen. Both he and Cimil were apparently free. So who was not trapped? Was this the god working with the Maaskab? They’d soon find out.