“Going in alone is madness—suicide! What does the Book of the Oracle say?” Nick asked.
“Nothing. I’ve consulted the pages hundreds of times. It never mentions me, and it never will.”
“You don’t know that for certain. Perhaps you should look again,” Kinich argued.
“It is a moot point; Cimil is currently in possession of the text, and she is nowhere to be found.”
“Cimil? Why would she, of all people, need a book that foretells the future?”
Were they speaking of that thick, leather text she kept poring over when I was in her study? And it told the future?
Devil crisps.
“I do not know,” Viktor stated coldly. “But it isn’t my concern; however, Penelope’s mother is. I must go after her. Even if it means angering Niccolo.”
Oh my God! They were arguing about rescuing my mother?
“Niccolo will not be angry; he will be furious! He may never speak to either of us again,” Kinich grumbled. “Helena’s life is bound to yours—you are her goddamned maker! She would perish if anything—”
I pushed myself between the two towers of muscle. “If you don’t tell me what the hell is going on, I swear to God…or gods…or—whatever! That I will take you down! Both of you!”
Both men regarded me with utter curiosity.
“Talk or I’ll stake you, or…or lasso you with silver or something you won’t like.”
Instead of anger, irritation, or any sign of my threat displeasing him, Viktor’s eyes filled with…
Affection? Wondering why, I stepped back a smidgeon.
“Penelope”—Viktor brushed the loose strands of hair from my face—“I realize you do not know me, but you will. And until then, you will simply need to trust me.”
I shook my head. “But I don’t…”
Kinich pushed himself between us as if claiming his territory. “Leave now, Viktor. I’ll give you two days. If you do not return before then, I will be forced to tell Niccolo. Our relationship with the vampires loyal to him cannot be jeopardized, nor can his focus on preparing for the war.”
Before I could speak another word, Viktor was gone.
“Son of a…” I looked at Nick. “Where did he go? What the hell is going on? Where’s my mother?”
Nick grabbed me and pulled me into his body. I struggled hard, but he was strong and warm and his scent lulled me into a state of calm.
He stroked the back of my head. “I will tell you, Penelope, but you must trust we will do everything we can.”
“Just tell me,” I whispered.
“Viktor believes he is destined to save your mother—that it is his life’s purpose. He’s dreamt of her for five hundred years. And…” He paused. “Of her being taken by the Maaskab, snatched away from right under Cimil’s nose.”
“The monsters have my mom?”
“He believes so, and I concur; the dreams are a premonition.”
I began to sob. “Is she going to die?”
“I do not know. There is more to his visions, but he will not say. I can only tell you he has been obsessed with finding your mother for the last five centuries.”
No. No. No!
My mind swam in a swampy cloud of jumbled thoughts and emotions, but my heart could take no more.
It cracked wide open.
CHAPTER 18
When life hands you lemons, you take those lemons and then shove them right up life’s…well, you get the picture. A little crude, I know. But that was my motto. No lemonade for this girl. No sir. Nevertheless, this situation was something so surreal, so terrifying, so…surreal—didn’t I say that already? I can’t think. Why can’t I think?
You’re on grack! That’s why. You need to clear your head so you can figure this out.
But I like it here. He’s so warm and strong. I feel safe wrapped in his big arms and…yummm, he smells really freaking good.
“Penelope? Good lord, woman, I’ve never met a human so susceptible to me.” Nick gave me a little shake. “Penelope? You there?” I heard his voice off in a distant corner of my mind, but I was somewhere else, somewhere completely safe and happy. My own mental tropical island.
“Penelope!”
What a pest! Can’t he see I’m busy?
“Woman,” his deep voice commanded, “you will come back to me now. You will no longer be affected by my energy. You are immune to my scent.”
Like being shoved off a cliff into an icy, frigid ocean, I came to. “What happened?” I was sitting on Nick’s sandstone-colored leather couch, with said man gripping me by the shoulders, staring deeply into my eyes.
“I believe you are having what people refer to as a nervous breakdown. It looks very unpleasant,” his tone was deep and melodic, but something had changed.
“What did you do to me?” I shook my head.
“I have instructed your brain to ignore any impulses it may feel due to my energy. You are immune until I remove it.”
Oh wow. I took a deep breath to test it out. He still smelled incredible, but my head felt clearer. “Couldn’t you have come up with that little trick any sooner?”
He shrugged. “Hadn’t really thought of it until now.”
“You’re a god. Don’t you think of everything?”
The edges of his mouth curled into a delicious little smile that made my heart disco dance. He was still the most gorgeous man I’d ever seen. Apparently I wasn’t immune to that.
“We are not perfect, nor omnipotent; although, we are quite powerful, especially when in our own realm. From there we may observe the human world and influence events or people with surgical precision. However, we cannot see everything at once. It is like having a satellite one can focus on specific areas or people.”
“You spy on us!”
“Of course,” he replied without any hint of shame. “How else would we do our jobs?”
I gasped. “Do you watch people doing…private things?”
He leaned back into the overstuffed couch, unbuttoned one shirt cuff, and began rolling it up his thick arm. “It is unavoidable. But after observing humanity for tens of thousands of years, one becomes desensitized.”
I gasped again. “Oh my God, have you ever spied on me?”
“No.” He grinned from ear to ear and began working on the other sleeve. “But I assure you, I will.”
Great. I’d never be naked again. And it’s really, really hard to take a good shower if you’re not naked. And imagine trying to shave your bikini line. Or your legs.
“You can’t do that!”
He made the last roll. “I can do anything I like; I’m a god.”
“A rude Peeping-Tom god,” I grumbled.
“I man has to have his pleasures in life.” He paused and stared pensively at my face for several awkward moments before he reached out and brushed his thumb along my lower lip.
Was I one of his “pleasures”?
We stared at each other for a very long moment, and I couldn’t resist marveling yet again at that face: full lips; thick honey-colored eyelashes framing his turquoise eyes; his deep, flawlessly bronzed skin; and a hint of a dent in the middle of his stubble-covered chin. And that hair. Every strand was thick and shiny. I wanted to run my fingers through it while he kissed me with reckless abandon and ground his naked, hard, muscular body…
“Are you sure you did your little spell correctly?” I asked.
He cocked his head. “Of course. Why?”
I’m tingling down there. “No reason.” I stood up and stepped away, massaging my temples. “Maybe I need a minute for your little spell to fully kick in.” There was a nagging little thought ticking away in the back of my brain. I felt angry about something. And sad. Really, really sad.
“My mom! Those monsters took her. Why?”
“I’m uncertain, Penelope. But I will tell you everything I know. Sit.”
“I want to stand.” Being so close to you is too distracting.
“I want you to sit.” Somethi
ng in his voice tugged on my resolve.
“Hey! I thought you made me immune to you.”
“To my scent and energy, yes. Not to my voice. Sit.” I felt my willpower melting away. Now I really, really wanted to sit.
Ugh! He doesn’t fight fair. “Look,” I said, “I’m sorry I accused you earlier of being a god-slut and man-whore—that was wrong of me to say—but that doesn’t mean I’ve forgiven you for using your gifts on me that night or give you permission to keep doing it.”
He lifted one delicious brow. “Is that what you believe? That I used my ‘man-whore’ gifts on you?”
I nodded.
“I see.” He rubbed his chin. “So you are saying there is no possible way you would ever want me of your own free will.”
“That’s right.” Oh, that’s the biggest load of BS, Penelope. He could be lying in mud, covered in pig poop, and you’d still want him.
Would not.
Would too!
“Okay. Yes! Yes, you’re gorgeous. You make my girly parts melt like butter on a hot sidewalk. But that doesn’t give you permission to be a Mr. Bossy Britches or use your voice to get your way.”
Another charming, breathtaking smile crept across his face. “Noted. I will refrain from being a…Mr. Bossy Britches.” He patted the spot on the couch to his side.
I took a deep breath and sat.
“Let me start from the beginning.” Nick began telling a story that could only be described as the most unbelievable, horrific tale ever told. About eighty or so years ago, his brother Chaam, the God of Male Virility, lost his marbles and began plotting to wipe out mankind. And, because all of the gods were “hardwired” (as Nick called it) to protect humanity, they didn’t know why or how Chaam changed, but they did know he discovered a substance called black jade.
Chaam and his army of evil priests used the jade for all sorts of sinister deeds. Example: They once trapped the gods by poisoning the water inside these pools called cenotes—the gods use them as portals. Then Chaam figured out he could grind the stuff up and inject it into people to make them his evil minions. But sickest of all, Chaam discovered that if a woman wore this jade, he could sleep with her and make little Chaams. Or Chaamettes. Turned out, though, only the firstborn children carried Chaam’s deity genes—including any firstborn children from subsequent generations. So then he started to sleep with lots and lots of women. If the children were male, he gave them to the Maaskab for their army. Females—Payals—on the other hand, weren’t so lucky; once grown, they were slaughtered and used as deity-charged biofuel for his weapons—some sort of black jade pyramids he’d built.
“How sick. How twisted,” I said. Then I remembered something, “The necklace I wore the night we were together, was it made from the same stuff?”
He nodded yes.
I cringed. “You made me wear the evil jade?”
“I suppose I did, although I do not recall that night. The jade, however, is not evil by itself. It is merely a substance capable of storing particular kinds of energy, supernatural energy. If it is exposed to good energy, then that’s what it will contain. If dark energy, the same. Luckily, only one being knows the secret to releasing the charge—Chaam—and he’s not talking.”
“Because he’s stubborn like you?”
Nick frowned. “He does not speak because he’s locked away inside his pyramid under constant surveillance by our human allies, the Uchben.”
That didn’t seem like a sufficient punishment. He’d purposefully had children only to enslave or murder them. But perhaps a punishment befitting his crime didn’t exist.
Those poor, poor women.
“Did any of his daughters survive?” I asked.
“Yes. And they lived to have more children. Emma is Chaam’s great-granddaughter and is engaged to my brother Guy. But we believe there are more Payals scattered across the globe and hundreds imprisoned somewhere by the Maaskab. We’ve been searching for them for over a year without success. And though Chaam is contained, his Maaskab still roam free, determined to carry out his wishes. We hope to find the women before there are none left.” His serious expression changed to dread. “Penelope, I must ask you something. They took your mother, according to Viktor, and are now after you. I assume you are both firstborn females?”
“Yes, but—”
“Do you know anything about your family’s history?”
No! He wasn’t saying…he couldn’t be saying…“That can’t be right. I knew my grandmother. She was a nice, normal person who raised horses on a farm with my grandfather in Indiana. He and my grandmother died when I was little, but I can tell you for sure she wasn’t…different. Neither is my mother.”
“It’s possible they never realized it. We don’t have much to compare to, but Emma had no clue what she was until—”
“No! This can’t be right.” My heart thumped.
Nick brushed a stray lock of hair behind my ear. “Perhaps I am mistaken, but all of the signs are pointing to only one explanation.”
I stood up and began pacing. No! No! Not possible. “Wouldn’t I know if that disgusting brother of yours were my great-grandfather? And…Oh no! You and I might have slept together! And you’re his brother! You’ve turned me into an incestuous skeez!”
Nick stood and made little waves with his palms. “Slow down. I only call him my brother, just as I call Cimil my sister, but we are not related in such a way. We did not have a mother or father.”
I breathed a sigh of relief. “So how were you made?”
Nick shrugged. “We do not know. We simply awoke one day, approximately seventy thousand years ago. Aware. Existing.
“Cimil claims the Creator made us to watch over the world, but I have never seen or heard this Creator personally.”
I suddenly felt woozy. My brain was going into overload. I stumbled to the side.
Nick reached out and caught me. “You need to eat something.”
He gently placed me down on the couch and propped my head up with a cushion. I didn’t want to rest. I wanted to fight. I wanted to hunt down those vile creatures and get my mother back. But he was right; I was hungry and fried.
Nick returned several moments later with a tall glass of water and stack of Oreo cookies.
“Cookies?” Had this been that breakfast he’d mentioned earlier? My kind of chef!
“My kind does not require food,” he explained, “So when I eat, it is for pleasure. My preference is tropical fruit. I keep these around in case my brother Guy stops buy. He likes them very much.”
Weird, but I supposed it made sense. If they didn’t need food for fuel or have to worry about waistlines, then they ate what they liked. Of course, if I were a deity, I’d sign up for the egg roll, ice cream mochi, and sourdough bread diet.
I reached for the tall glass and took a swig. I promptly spit the fiery liquid all over Nick’s flagstone coffee table. “What is that?” I hacked.
“Rum. I thought it might help to take the edge off.”
Yeah, for the next three days. “Thank you, but I’m not scheduled to become an alcoholic until next week.”
He looked confused.
“Joking. Why be a drunk when I have grack at my fingertips? That’s way more fun.”
He stared blankly.
“God crack? Grack?” I said.
He continued staring.
“Just ignore me,” I mumbled.
He dipped his head. “I’ll bring you that water.” He returned with a real glass of water and sat down on the edge of the couch. “I will send one of the Uchben out for groceries while you rest. Then we will finish answering your questions.”
“Uchben? Those are your ‘human allies,’—the ones guarding Chaam, right?”
“Yes. They have a very large army and use my grounds for training, as do our vampire allies. There is an encampment about a half mile from here along with several guesthouses, apartment complexes, a convention center, airstrip, airplane hangar, helicopter pad, underground bunker
for fifteen thousand, missile silo, ten-year supply of clean water, fifty self-sustainable greenhouses that double as emergency oxygen generators, a state-of-the-art underground hospital, a library, war room, and satellite control center.”
I quirked one brow. “Is that all?”
Contemplating, Nick’s eyes shifted to the mural-covered ceiling (it was a replica of the Sistine Madonna with the two cherubs). “Oh. And a bar with pool tables and a few hundred board game stations.”
“Board games?” Was he serious?
“The men are very competitive—especially the vampires. There’s a tournament every year. I believe this year’s pick is Hungry Hungry Hippos. Cimil is usually the master of ceremonies.”
“Seriously?” I asked.
“Absurd. Is it not?” He shook his head.
“Yeah. Just a tad.”
“Barrel of Monkeys is much more challenging. Those little red buggers never stay together.”
Okeydokey.
“At any rate,” Nick continued. “General Niccolo DiConti, who has direct, day-to-day responsibility for the army, stays at the camp along with the Uchben chiefs assisting with training and preparations for the Great War—the war that will decide the fate of mankind. With so many well-seasoned warriors about, the Maaskab are less likely to attack us here.”
“Only less likely?” I started to sit up. Where I was going, who knew? But running sounded like a fab idea.
He gently pushed down on my shoulder. “You need to rest.” He brushed the hair back from my forehead. “Please. I will watch over you. Nothing will happen.”
Although I could take care of myself, it felt oddly pleasant to have a real live deity wanting to protect me. An unexpected giddiness washed over me.
“Why are you smiling?” he asked.
I sighed and closed my eyes. “No reason.”
CHAPTER 19
When my dizziness subsided, I opened my eyes to the heavenly sight of Nick, eyes closed, sitting at the other end of the couch. His large hands rested on top of my legs, which were propped over his lap.
Sun God Seeks…Surrogate? Page 13
