“I do not believe you. I am a god. I would never behave with such indecency.”
“From what I’ve seen, you’ve been doing it for a long time.”
“So I’m basically a disgusting, drunk slob who demeans women.”
“Well, you do have your good side. I mean, you seem to enjoy making people feel good and let loose. But yeah, you’re kind of a pig.”
“So this is why you want nothing to do with me.”
“You and I made a deal last night. I would show you how it would be to live my life and you would show me yours. If at the end of the night we determined we weren’t compatible, then we’d go our separate ways. And after seeing you jam your…” She glanced toward his groin. “Your aroused penis against some woman’s ass in front of six hundred people while we were on a date, I think I can safely say that I am not the woman for you.”
He could not blame her. He sounded like a complete buffoon. “I am sorry, Margarita, for causing you any distress. I cannot claim to understand it. Especially when I can feel how strong the connection is between us.”
“It is sad because I feel it, too. It led me right here.”
The sunlight shining behind them illuminated her golden hair. And now, with more light, he could see the flecks of gold in her green eyes. “You are lovely, Margarita.”
Her cheeks turned pink. “Thanks. You’re not so bad yourself.”
He wanted to kiss her. He wanted to hold her. Why had he fucked things up with her?
“Perhaps this is fate intervening.”
“Meaning?” she asked.
“If the man I used to be wasn’t good enough for you, perhaps this new man will be.”
She stared at him for a very long moment. He could feel the conflict wafting from her soul. “Won’t you just go back to your old ways eventually?”
He gave it some thought. “For you, I would make a vow to never return to my old ways.”
She laughed, but stopped once she noticed the stern look on his face.
“You’re serious,” she said. “No more partying? No more nightclubs and mayhem?”
“I may have lost my memory, but I believe in fate, Margarita. And right now, feeling how strong our link is, I wonder if this isn’t a second chance. Immortals wait their entire existence to find the one person in the world who is destined for them.” He leaned forward and placed a gentle kiss on her soft lips, but she didn’t reciprocate.
“Sorry. I just need to think about it.” She brushed a few loose strands of golden hair from her eyes.
“Yes, I imagine you must be tired after searching all night for me. My apologies.”
“Let’s just find a place to hide out for the day—a hotel or something.”
He gave her a look, unable to block the images in his head.
“I need to sleep.”
“Ah, yes. Then we will find somewhere safe.”
Margarita immediately felt like something wasn’t right, and she wasn’t talking about the fact that Acan had lost his memory or was acting like a different person—errr…god. Even though he is a different god. Still the same incredibly stunning man with that stunning body and those hypnotic, jewel-colored eyes, but when he kissed her, it felt like kissing a cold fish. The spark was gone. Completely. No tingles in her toes, no twirly-birds in her stomach, no sinful aches in her core. Nothing.
I must be tired, she thought, driving them up the coast to a little motel she’d stayed at once when Jessica was five. Back then there was no such thing as vacation money, so a short one-night getaway at a beachside dive motel was the best vacation she could afford.
Margarita smiled, thinking about how tough things were back then, but those were happy times. It was the moment in Margarita’s life where her faith became her constant companion. She knew that as long as she had her freedom and health, the future was wide open. For both of them. Of course, giving up was never an option. Not when you had a child to care for and you’d sacrificed everything—your family, community, and home—for the hope of a better, more fulfilling life.
She glanced at Acan, who seemed transfixed by the scenery.
“Does any of this seem familiar?” she asked, her eyes fixed on the curvy road.
“Yes. Strangely, all of it. I simply do not have any memories attached to anything.”
“I can’t imagine how hard this must be.”
“I’m quite fine. I assure you,” he said. “My only concern at the moment is you.”
“Why me?”
“I don’t exactly know.”
“That sounds ominous.”
“Nothing ominous about it. I want you to be happy. I want you to be cared for and never to worry. I want you to live in complete comfort and to only spend your time on that which gives you pleasure or happiness.”
Damn. Where have you been all my life? “You don’t even know me, but you feel all that?”
“Yes. I suppose it’s our bond, but I do.”
She didn’t know how to respond. It was strange dealing with this third version of Acan.
“You know, it’s funny. If you’d asked me a few days ago to describe my perfect man, I probably would’ve described you.”
“So you are pleased by how fate has handed you what you’ve always wanted. That is, if you decide to take me.”
It all felt too easy. Like a dream or like something she didn’t deserve. “I think I’m used to working incredibly hard for anything I have.”
“Ah. So you feel sacrifice is always required in order to gain something.”
“Yeah. I guess so.”
“And just why is that?”
She glanced at him only briefly. The two-lane road, skirting along jagged cliffs overlooking the ocean, was notorious for its sharp turns and falling rocks. “I’ve never actually told anyone this—not ever. Not even Jessica knows.”
“Go on.”
“I was raised Amish. My real name is Margaret Miller.”
“Amish?” He chuckled.
“Hey, you’re a god. You can’t laugh at stuff like that.”
“I assure you that I laugh only because you are so modern. Independent, strong minded, and very sexy, I might add. Not that Amish women cannot be any of those things, but their way of life is communal. You are a free spirit if I’ve ever seen one.”
“God, it’s so strange how well you understand me.”
“Yet it is not enough.”
So he knew. Of course he does. If she could sense where he was physically, he could surely tap into her emotional frequency. This is all so strange.
“I don’t know how to explain it,” she said. “When you were horribly drunk, you made me mad. I just wanted to strangle you. And then, when you weren’t, I found you…kind of interesting. And also irresistibly sexy.”
“You fucked me, didn’t you?”
How embarrassing. It felt like she was telling a stranger. “Yes and no. I mean, we started but didn’t finish. You needed that jade stuff.”
“I remember what that is.”
“Well, you weren’t drunk both times—at least, you didn’t seem like it—but you didn’t look like you do now—perfect from head to toe—yet I didn’t seem to care.”
“So there was something about me that attracted you beyond my physical appearance.”
“Yes, and now you’re calm and acting mature and you look like…” Her eyes quickly flashed over his body. “Like a god. But it’s not you.”
“I see.”
She hated to hurt his feelings, but honesty seemed like the only option. “I just wonder what would’ve happened if you’d just made a different choice last night. Because there was this moment, right before your sister zapped you and before I saw you giving an anal massage to that woman, where I believed we were going to work out. I saw a future—or really, I felt it. In my heart. And then, just like that, it all went away.”
“It is a shame I would make such a foolish mistake. It makes me wonder what I was thinking.”
“I don’t kno
w, because you weren’t drinking. If you had been, all that—” she waved her right hand over his perfect body “—would’ve gone away.”
“Maybe I hit my head.”
“Maybe you were possessed by a rotten, womanizing asshole with an anal fetish. Wait.” Something sparked in her mind. “Ohmygod. That’s it. It has to be.”
“What?”
“You told me that this…this thing that’s happening to you causes you to become evil.”
“I will have to take your word for it. I do not remember, nor do I feel evil.”
“You were screaming at me in the club the moment your sister grabbed me. You said you weren’t in control or something like that! You said you weren’t you. You were trying to tell me and…” Margarita’s eyes filled with tears. It all made so much sense now. He hadn’t been trying to hurt her. He’d “flipped,” as they called it.
“This is all my fault.” She wiped the moisture from under her eyes. “If I’d just stopped for a second or told you sooner that I wanted to try to make us work, none of this would’ve happened.” Why had she been so blind? “Dammit,” she whispered. “Mike is still in my head, making me think that men are only going to hurt me.”
“Mike? Who is Mike?”
“My ex. Never mind. He’s not important.” She looked at Acan, her eyes so watery she could barely see. “I fucked it up, Acan. I should’ve known there was something wrong with you. I’m so sorry. I fucked it—”
Acan’s gaze darted to the road. “Watch out!” He reached for the steering wheel, but the moment she turned her head, all she saw were headlights and the grill of a very large truck.
Acan blacked out for several moments from the impact of the car hitting the jagged rocks below after the car had veered off the cliff. How much time passed before his human shell regained consciousness, he didn’t know, but the frigid ocean water on his face woke him from one nightmare into the horrific moment. Real.
“Margarita,” he coughed out her name along with the salt water in his nose and lungs. His eyes, covered in a veil of blood, tried to focus but couldn’t. Somewhere, in the back of his mind, he heard voices. Humans trying to extract them from the damaged vehicle.
“You can’t move them. They might have broken necks or backs,” said one man.
“They’ll drown or freeze if we leave them inside.”
A set of violent waves crashed into Acan’s face through the shattered windshield. He gasped for air, trying to break free, but something held him in place. The two men coughed and grunted and that was when Acan realized the car was partially submerged in the water. “Margarita,” he mumbled. “Get her out.”
The water drained from the car with the retreat of the violent wave. Margarita lay with her head to one side, blood pouring from multiple cuts in her face. Her door flew open, and one of the men—a man in a wetsuit—dragged her out. Someone on Acan’s side pulled him away from the vehicle.
Slowly, his faculties returned, and he got to his feet with the aid of the surfer who’d come to rescue him. “Margarita. Where is she?”
“Keep going, man. We need to get you away from the waves.” They stumbled through rocks and rough water, up onto a narrow strip of sand. On the cliff above, people gathered to watch.
“Just hang on, man. The paramedics are coming,” said the man who held him up.
Acan’s eyes focused ahead, and there, lying on the beach, was the other man, straddling Margarita. He held his palms over her heart, pumping her chest.
“No. No. No.” Acan stumbled toward her, ignoring every broken bone in his body. “Margarita!” When he got to her, all he saw was her pale face and blue lips. He dropped to his knees and took her cold hand. “Margarita? Please don’t go. Come back. Come back.”
As if in a nightmare of his own making, Acan watched the man attempting to put life back into her body. But it was no use. She was gone.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Acan wasn’t sure how he’d gotten there, but he found himself standing inside the large empty building where he’d been with Margarita last night. For a man with so few memories to know that, for as long as he lived, there would be no day worse than this said a lot.
He looked down at his clothes covered in blood and damp with seawater. The only thing he could think about was scrubbing every inch of his soul clean from the pain inhabiting his body.
“Belch! What the hell are you doing here?” His sister stomped toward him. “And what the hell happened to your—”
“She’s dead,” he muttered, trying with everything he had not to cry. It didn’t work. “She’s fucking dead. Why the fuck is she dead?”
“Who? Who’s dead?” His sister grabbed his hands.
“The car went over the cliff, and Margarita just…” He sobbed, covering his face. “We hit the rocks.”
“Oh fuck. Please tell me you’re joking.”
“No.” He placed his hands over his chest. “I can’t breathe.” He couldn’t think or make sense of his existence.
“Ohmygods.” His sister wrapped her arms around him. “I’m so, so sorry.”
He pushed her away.
“Make me forget again,” he yelled, pointing his finger in her face. “Erase her from my mind.”
“Acan,” she whispered, “I can’t. It’s not right. You need to stop and mourn and try to make sense of this. Otherwise it will only haunt—”
“Fuck you! This is all your fault. I should remove your head for this, you fucking fool.”
Acan felt the bitter darkness crawling inside him, spreading like a virus. He’d already felt indifferent to everything, but for a few short hours, he’d had her. Margarita. Now there was no reason left to fight the wickedness threatening to consume him.
“Stop right there, brother.” Forgetty drew a breath. “You don’t mean that, and you vowed never to hurt me again. So while I can forgive you once for taking my head, a second time would seal your fate. Your love for me, your sister, should be sufficient to overcome anything this cruel world can throw at you. If it’s not, then I can only question your loyalty.”
Acan felt the darkness retreating but only temporarily. He looked down at his feet. “I’m going to have to leave. I’m not safe to be around.”
“Where will you go, Acan?” she hissed. “New Year’s Eve is only a few weeks away and there isn’t a corner on this planet or in our world safe from you.”
He blinked. “Then you will have to kill me.”
“With what purpose? You’ll only come right back, evil, destructive. And may I remind you that in your human form, you’re less harmful. If you die, you’ll be able to return to our realm and your powers will only be stronger.”
Godsdammit, she was right. But he simply didn’t care. Let the world sink into abyss. All he wanted was Margarita, and she was dead.
“What purpose is there of being a god if I cannot pick and choose who lives or dies, or if I cannot save my mate? Why the fuck does any of this matter?” He could not stop the tears flowing just like he could not stop his anger.
“I don’t know, Acan. I really don’t. But it is not our place to ask why. We are here simply to live and help them.” She pointed to her side, to no one and everyone all at the same time. “And if we are lucky, someone out there will see something great in us and love us and help us not go insane while we live for eternity.”
“I found her. And now she is gone.” The connection he’d felt didn’t lie. She had been the one.
“You might find another if you give it time. But you will never know if you allow this horrible tragedy to consume you. Please, if you give up, Acan, the path will lead to a very dark place for everyone.”
Acan stared at his sister, struggling to be the man, the god she needed him to be. In a time like this, with so little left to cling to, he found it impossible. He just wanted Margarita back. It was strange to feel so much for someone he had so few memories of. But he did. And now he just wanted his pain to end.
“I’m sorry, sister. Bu
t if I help this world continue, it only means I will have to endure an eternity of suffering. I prefer to flip and let it all end.”
“No. You can’t do that.”
“This god is all out of compassion.”
The Goddess of Forgetfulness slid her cell from her pocket, ready to call the emergency mailbox that would summon her brethren. They had to be told. But in the back of her mind, she also knew it would do little good. If Acan flipped, there was no way to stop him from hurting millions of people. Not prison. Not taking away his mortal shell. They might minimize some damage if he were incapacitated, but the spike in his powers on New Year’s wasn’t something he controlled. That was the issue.
Godsdammit. Why did I listen to Cimil? Had Forgetty kept her hands to herself and not tried to wipe Margarita’s mind, none of this would’ve happened. Had Cimil known the outcome?
Of course she did. She always knew. But why would she want this to happen? This of all things?
Why? Why? She replayed the moment where it all went so terribly wrong. She’d spoken to Margarita near the bathroom and convinced her to give Acan the chance he deserved. Margarita ran out to the dance floor, looking for Acan, and found him dirty dancing with some woman. From there, it all went south.
Forgetty toggled through her contacts and dialed the only number she could ever call in a case like this. “Hi, it’s me. There’s been an accident—Acan’s mate is dead. I’m going to need you to break the law and deliver a letter.”
She listened.
“Yes, that law. Yes, I know what’s at risk, but you owe me, and you know I will cover your tracks.”
She listened again.
“Thank you.” She ended the call and went up to the office on the second floor, getting a piece of paper and a pen from the drawer.
She sat down at the desk and thought very carefully about what she would say.
Dear Margarita…
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
GOD OF WINE (The Immortal Matchmakers, Inc. Book 3) Page 17
