COLEL (Immortal Matchmakers, Inc. Series Book 5)

by Mimi Jean Pamfiloff

  With bated breath, she watched every subtle move. Was she right or just being hopeful?

  Then, almost like he couldn’t help himself, he seemed to have decided. His body relaxed, and his expression softened. “I want you to—”

  A wall suddenly appeared between them. An angry wall. Buzzing, yelling, fluttering with promises of death and pain.

  A bee block? Wait. He’s allergic to bees.

  “Chuck! Call them off! You’ll hurt him.”

  This time, the hive didn’t obey. They pushed Rys down onto the hardwood floor and raised their stingers, preparing to strike the fatal blow.

  “No!” She reached out to stop them, but what good would that do? They’d clearly gone rogue. One goddess versus a thousand soldiers, regardless of size, couldn’t fight them off barehanded.

  “Don’t move!” she barked to Rys. Why are they doing this? Through the chaos and buzzing, all she heard were their tiny threats. They were never going to share her. She was part of their hive, their queen bee. And queens only had one home. Them.

  This isn’t happening. But that wasn’t true, and if she wanted Rys to get out of this, she had to do something.

  “Okay. He’ll leave. He’s leaving.” She spoke frantically. “I’ll never see him again. Just let him bee! He’s a good man. And we do not kill good men.”

  A long moment passed, and then the bees lifted, swarming onto her body. They weren’t hugging her this time. They were claiming her as their property, violently fluttering their wings.

  “Run,” she whispered calmly to Rys. “And don’t come back. Not until we’ve left town.”

  Rys got to his feet and stared with those dark eyes. This time, she detected a note of remorse in his stern gaze. Whatever he’d come to tell her, whatever he’d been about to say, he now regretted it.

  “Who are you?” Brutus thundered from behind him.

  Rys lifted his chin and left without another word.

  Brutus looked at her standing there in the buff. “Thought you were taking a bath alone. Next time, let me know when you invite someone to join you.”

  “I didn’t invite him; he just showed up.”

  Brutus’s head whipped over his shoulder, then back at her. “He’s an intruder? And he got past us?”

  “He probably just came through the garage or something, but he owns the place.” Still, why would he simply barge in like that? Had he forgotten his manners, or had he been so overwhelmed with a need to see her that he simply hadn’t cared? One thing was certain, he had been about to accept her offer and bed her. Whether it meant something or had simply been his male libido at work, she would never know.

  “Is he a threat?” Brutus asked.

  If anything, I’m a threat to him. “No.”

  “I will follow him anyway.”

  “Why?”

  “If he entered without detection, something is not right.”

  She shrugged. Yes, there was a mysterious element to the man, but it had more to do with the fact that he turned her head and made her core tingle against her wishes. The chemistry was off the chariots. Or charcoal? Oh, whatever! There was a lot. A lot of damned chemistry. “Suit yourself.”

  Brutus was about to leave when he took one last look at her, his eyes lingering on her breasts. “Are you certain you do not want a partner for your bath? I am very skilled with a loofah.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Brutus, for the last time, if I need help, I will ask.” Jeez. She was a fully grown goddess who’d been washing—and moisturizing—her human body for quite some time. Why did he insist on beehaving like she was a pupa?

  “I will let you know what I discover upon my return.” He dipped his head of closely cropped dark hair and disappeared down the hall.

  She slammed the bedroom door and went straight for the bathroom and her calming tub, which was almost overflowing with bubbles.

  “Men are so confusing,” she muttered, shooing off her bee suit and slipping into the warm suds. She shut off the water, and with her eyes closed, she drew a deep breath. This is just what I need—

  “Whoa. What am I doing?” She jackknifed upright, water splashing onto the white tiled floor.

  Her hive had just run Rys off, a man who might be her only chance at happiness. Ever. They’d threatened his life. Yes, yes, they’d always been protective, but never anything like this.

  They are genuinely worried they will lose me.

  “It’s a sign. He is the one. He must be.” But if that were the case, then how would he and she ever be together? Chuck and friends would never allow them to get close. One false move and they’d sting him.

  She ran her wet hands over her face, sweeping back her tendrils of long damp hair. She could sneak out again, but her bees always sensed her presence. Or the lack of it. She could try to grab Rys and take him somewhere secure so that if the hive found her, they couldn’t get to him, but what good would that do? If Rys was truly meant to be hers, then he would become a part of her life.

  Sure, she could go to her brethren and request Rys be made into a demigod—something they’d surely allow since she was immortal, and it only made sense for one’s mate to be immortal, too—however, they would not approve it if she couldn’t say for certain that Rys was her mate and that the two had bonded. Their souls had to become one, and for that to happen, he had to give her his heart. They would never get there if they couldn’t be in the same room.

  Plus, I really think I need his cock inside me at least once. Just to be sure. Okay, maybe three or four times would be best. A goddess couldn’t be too careful when taking a mate. Especially in this day and age when the Universe was all wacky. Better make it ten times. Though she’d allow any orifice to count. His or hers.

  She smiled at the dirty images summoned by her brain. Then reality kicked in. There would be no orifice exploration of any sort if Rys’s life was in danger every time he got near her.

  Gods, times like these, I miss Cimil. Her sister was so much more than just the Goddess of the Underworld, Garage Sales, Hot and Sour Scorpion Lollipops, K-pop, Sparkly Pants, Sparkly Underpants, Bad ’70s Sitcoms, Lying, plus a whole lot more! Evil as she might’ve been, Cimil always had a solution for the most impossible situations.

  But, alas, Cimil had been sunk to the bottom of the ocean. The mermen said it was forever, but that was a fucking knee-slapper. If there was one thing Colel knew about her bat-shit crazy sister, it was that nobody told her what to wear, which cuss words to use, who to torture, or what to do.

  Colel’s phone buzzed in the other room. No, she didn’t have her cell on vibrate. The buzzing was her ringtone, set to the sweet, sweet mating call of the queen honeybee.

  She pulled herself from the water, grabbed a fluffy white towel, and went for her phone. “Hello?”

  A crackle flooded the earpiece.

  “Hello?” she repeated. “Who’s there?” Maybe one of her brethren?

  The call cut short, but it gave her an idea. Perhaps it was she who should be reaching out. If anyone knew what to do, it was her mated brethren.

  I will begin with calling Chaam, the God of Male Virility.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  “Oh, well, I’m sorry to have disturbed your lovemaking with Maggie.” Wearing a white robe, Colel sat at the desk in her master suite and crossed Chaam’s name off the list.

  “I am the God of Male Virility. I am always making love. Even when I’m not, I’m thinking about it.”

  “Sounds like you and your mate have quite the sex life. Congratulations,” she said bitterly.

  “Look, sister, it isn’t that I do not wish to help you, but when it comes to matters of the heart and all of that matchmaking crap, I am of little use.”

  “But you’re basically the god of sex. Does that not include love?”

  “No. So unless you’re in need of assistance pertaining to erectile dysfunction or male infertility, I cannot help you.”

  “Godsdammit. Come on, Chaam. Can’t you even try? I just need to figu
re out if this human is my forever honey without him dying in the process.”

  “You want my advice? Have sex with him. A man’s virility is the only true sign of his worthiness.”

  She rolled her eyes. This was a waste of time. “Thank you for your time.” She sighed. “And give my regards to Maggie. Bye—”

  “Wait. Try talking to Akna!” Maggie called out, panting hard. “She knows way more about love. Oh! Oh! Oh… Bye!”

  They’re having sex? Colel grimaced and ended the call. “Yuck.”

  Not ready to give up, she tapped her yellow-striped fingernails on the desk and stared out the frost-covered window while the storm raged on.

  Akna, huh? Well, she was the Goddess of Fertility. She could walk into a room and make anything multiply—sandwiches, chairs, and people alike. Maybe she’d know how to make her chances with Rys multiply, too?

  Colel punched the numbers and waited for the ringtone, only to have the call go into voicemail.

  “Hello. You have reached Akna, the Goddess of Fertility. If you’d like to get pregnant, leave a message. If you’d like to leave a message without multiplying, hang up, write a letter and then burn it. Beep!”

  Immaculate conception? No, gracias. Colel hung up. She had no interest in getting knocked up without having sex. Though, she did want children. She had been solo with her bees for many years, and the idea of a two-legged family elated her.

  Next on her list was Ashli, the Goddess of Love, who was married to Máax, the God of Time Travel. Ashli answered right away and listened with the utmost attention and love to every word.

  “So what do you think?” Colel asked after explaining her predicament.

  “Honestly?” Ashli asked.

  “Of course.”

  “To know if this male is your mate, I’d have to get you two in a room together. Even then, I wouldn’t really know. The magic just kind of happens on its own. Or not.”

  “So…basically your superpower is letting nature take its course?” Not so super.

  “I can’t force people together, but when love is destined, I can help speed it along.”

  “Ah, I see.” Well, too bad because I’m trying to avoid getting in the same room with him. “Are you certain there is no other way to determine if he is my mate?”

  “I’m sorry, sister, the only deity I know of with the gift of foresight is Cimil, and she’s in a time-out. A long, looong time-out. Even so, no one can ever rely on her information.”

  True. Once, Cimil told them all that zombies would sweep across the globe and everyone should prepare. A week later, she was found on her sofa binge-watching the first season of The Walking Dead. That was her prognostication: that a TV show would get good ratings.

  Idiot. “Well, Cimil isn’t here, so it’s a moot point,” Colel muttered with regret.

  “Indeed. But I kind of miss her. Life is boring when you know absolutely nothing will go wrong. Where’s the suspense, the drama?”

  “Agreed.” If anything, Cimil kept everyone on their toes. “But my predicament remains.”

  “Have you tried speaking with K’ak?”

  Their brother who’d yet to find his flagship power? Other than having a name that sounds like “cock,” but really means “smoking squirrel”?

  “No. I don’t think he’d be of service,” replied Colel.

  “How about A.C.?” Ashli questioned.

  The God of Eclipses? No, thanks. “He’s way too dark.”

  “Good point. Umm…well, I’d tell you to talk to Belch, but he’s off with Margarita at some nudist colony, and I’m not so sure he’d tell you anything more than to get drunk with this Rys guy.”

  Belch was the God of Wine, Intoxication, and Decapitation—sort of a weird combo. Margarita was a fitness instructor and the love of his now mostly sober life.

  “Yep. Belch would definitely just push the tequila, and that would only confuse matters.” Everything looked better through tequila goggles. Not that Rys could look any hotter. He was a solid ten on the sizzle-meter.

  “Well, that doesn’t leave many choices,” Ashli muttered.

  No. It certainly did not. There was the Goddess of Forgetfulness (Forgetty), the Goddess of Happiness and Suicide (Ixy), the ex-Sun God turned vampire (Kinich), the God of Death and War (Votan), and the God of Temptation (Zac).

  These are my options? “I just can’t see them offering any insights. Love isn’t really their strong suit.”

  “Hmmm…” Ashli paused. “Have you considered asking Votan to make an exception?”

  “You mean turning Rys into a demigod before I’ve determined if he’s really my mate?”

  “You never know. If Votan says yes, others may follow.”

  Not gonna work. Votan said no to everything simply because he was the God of Death and War. He liked to fight even when he agreed.

  On the other hand, if I could get someone to tell me that Rys can’t become a demigod, then Votan would take the contrary position. Once he said yes, the other gods would fall in line. His opinion pulled a lot of weight.

  So who could she approach and convince? She smiled. Kinich.

  “Thank you, Ashli. I think I’ve got a solution.”

  “Always happy to be of help, sister. And let me know if you want me to meet up with you and your potential man. I’d be happy to flood the room with my loving vibes.”

  “Thanks. But hopefully, that won’t be necessary.”

  She ended the call and dialed Kinich, ex-Sun God, now a vampire—a long, long story. Aside from Votan, Kinich had always been like a big brother to the group. Very respected, kind, and warm. Obviously, not as warm as he once was, but still way more compassionate than most gods.

  “Bees! Long time no buzz,” he said with a cheery tone.

  “Hi, Kinich. Are you well?”

  “Right as sunshine.”

  “Good to hear. And Penelope?” Penelope was Kinich’s mate.

  “Working on the agenda for our next summit. Any progress with the bee issue?”

  “Regrettably, no.”

  “Do not give up hope,” he said. “Where there’zzz a will, there’zzz a way.”

  “Ha. Cute. I couldn’t agree more, but I feel like this challenge might be too big for one deity.”

  “Do you not have the aid of our Uchben soldiers and scientists?”

  Yes. Everyone on the team had been working hard, and the data she was collecting could prove extremely useful in heading off a worldwide food shortage. Without bees and their fruit-and-veggie-pollination powers, humans would eventually starve. Or die of scurvy and constipation.

  She shuddered. “Yes. The Uchben task force assigned to me continue to prove indispensable, but I need someone who truly understands the issues and understands me. Someone I can share my wealth of knowledge with and can come at the problem from another direction.”

  “Do you have someone in mind?” he asked.

  “Matter of fact, I do. He might be my mate.”

  “Are you flipping?” he asked, sounding concerned.

  “Not yet. Not that I’m aware of.”

  “Wonderful! So you can take your time with this man, get to know him before committing.”

  Not exactly. At this very moment, she was putting on her mental roller skates, trying to get to the commitment finish line as quickly as possible.

  She cleared her throat. “Love the ‘getting to know him idea.’ Brilliant. There’s just one small problem: he’s allergic to bees. Also, my hive won’t let him near me. I want to petition to make him immortal so I can date him.”

  A soft chuckle hummed through the phone. “Now I see. You were hoping I’d say no so that Votan would say yes and the other gods would side with him.”

  Dagnabbit! “How’d you know?”

  “Remember how Zac petitioned to get an early release from his sentence?”

  Who could forget? Zac, the God of Temptation, had tried to seduce Kinich’s mate. A major no-no. As punishment, Zac was exiled to the human world an
d sentenced to play matchmaker for one hundred immortals. The gods hoped it would teach him the true meaning of love: It can’t be taken. It can only be given. Cimil, who’d also been playing with lives and pissing everyone off, received the same sentence. It was then the two decided to open Immortal Matchmakers, Inc., a dating agency, in order to make their punishments move along a bit faster. Sadly, playing Cupid had only taught Cimil how to manipulate with even greater precision and triggered her to cause more mayhem out of boredom.

  As for Zac, he fell in love with his office assistant and the one woman on the entire planet who could not be tempted by him: Tula. No human had ever been born with a purer heart. She died tragically a short time ago, frozen to death after Zac went mad—literally flipped before they even had a chance to be together. All because Cimil thought it would be funny to play a trick and hide Tula on an island of savage mermen.

  Not funny.

  It ended with Zac going full-out Predator mode and killing a bunch of mermen. He eventually got to Tula, but by the time he came to his senses, it was too late. They had escaped from the island on a little boat during one of the coldest months on record, and she froze. Just one more reason the gods allowed Cimil to be taken and punished. Her shenanigans always led to tragedies.

  “Yes. I remember,” Colel finally replied to Kinich’s question. “Zac felt his banishment should be cut in half because he claimed that having to run a dating agency with Cimil was punishment enough.”

  “Yes, well, he tried the same scheme. He asked me first, hoping I’d say no to his request, and then Votan would take the contrarian position. But Votan sided with me. It’s a myth that he always wants conflict. Especially now that Votan has a mate and children. He’s much more balanced.”

  “So what should I do? If Rys is not immortal, then by merely dating him, I risk losing him.” She could get away with a rendezvous or two, but that wasn’t what she wanted. They needed to date and date hard. Date fast…date naked…date on top of each other five times a day.

  “Too bad he’s not a vampire.”

  She snorted. Ewww… Not too bad. Too good. She loathed vampires. Well, except for Kinich, of course, but he had been a deity first. These other vampires were all about killing. She was about life: flowers, bees, springtime, and fresh starts. Life!