Accidentally...Cimil?
Page 2
“Right this way,” said Lefty. I didn’t know if he was a lefty, but he was the man on the left so I christened him Lefty.
The two men led me inside, through a maze of lavishly adorned chambers, and then out to a large private garden. Statues and fire pits lined the stone walkway that led to the steps of a smaller temple where two more guards stood with spears crossed over the doorway.
“She is here to see our pharaoh,” said Righty.
The two new door jockeys exchanged glances. “No one enters.”
Ugh. I don’t have time for this. I pushed past Lefty and Righty. “Take me. Now.” I commanded the two new plebes. They didn’t move.
“What if I offer you a sandwich?” I winked provocatively.
They exchanged glances, clearly intrigued by my offer of this mysterious thing called a “sandwich,” but didn’t budge. Little did they know how males from the future would covet said sandwich. Almost as much as pizza, beer, and porn.
“Fine. Hardball it is! Move. Now,” I said, using my compelling voice.
They pulled back their spears but then froze in place with awkward, uncomfortably contorted faces.
Darn it. I brain locked them. Sometimes it happened. Nobody ever said my powers were perfect.
“Everyone stay put until I return,” I grumbled. “And don’t let anyone in. I’m sure your pharaoh won’t want to be bothered. Unless he’s into nut delight, in which case, I’ll be right back.”
I left the four men behind and entered the temple. “Now, where the hell is my man cand—” My jaw dropped the moment I entered the spacious sleeping chamber and spotted the king standing outside on his private terrace, gazing up at the night sky, wearing nothing but a teeny-tiny, tight little man-skirt. No man–panty lines, either, which obviously meant he was one piece of cloth away from being perfect (aka naked).
Well, hellooooo, cowboy!
Twisted into tiny plaits adorned with gold beads and thread, his long black hair cascaded down the center of his deeply tanned, broad back. His smooth skin rippled with powerful muscles, two of which were his hard ass.
I sucked in an equally hard breath. That hard ass was connected to the most gorgeous set of powerful, manly thighs I’d ever seen on a mortal. I could only imagine what hung down the other side.
“Are you going to say something or simply stand there all night staring at my ass?” he said in a deep, calm voice, not bothering to turn around.
“Was that a trick question? Obviously, I’m going to stare at your ass.”
* * *
From the moment the strange woman entered his chamber, he knew she was there. Her energy filled the room like a fragrant oil fills the nostrils.
Of course, he had been expecting her. A prayer to the Goddess Bastet never went unanswered when one’s heart was true to the deities and of divine origin as was his.
And when the woman arrived, he looked out across the dark, star-filled sky, thanking the deities for delivering his wish: a divine female worthy of his greatness, to worship his strength and power, and to provide him with many heirs to rule after his mortal shell crossed over the glorious banks of the Nile to join the gods for eternity.
“I’ve been expecting you.” He turned, proudly showing off his cloaked but prominently displayed phallus. After all, there was no purpose in hiding his glorious erection. It was a badge of honor, a sign of his superior, kingly virility. And of his desperation to end the self-imposed sexual drought. He’d vowed to the gods to abstain until her arrival, confident they would be pleased by his sacrifice and deliver his request.
They had. Delivered, that was. There were simply a few unexpected turns. Nothing a powerful pharaoh could not handle.
What mattered was that his agony was finally over. He would bed her immediately, this very evening, and plant his seed. The ceremonies and public declarations to appease the subjects could come after he’d had his fill of her silky, pale thighs and saw the sure signs of a new life within her.
The woman’s wide, jewel-colored eyes dropped to his shaft and drank him in without shame. “Is that a pyramid in your man-skirt or are you hiding my unicorn?”
“You like what you see?” he asked.
“Does a sea turtle play hopscotch when no one’s looking? Do naked clowns run in terror when they see me coming? Does Bigfoot have a ‘Rides Free on Saturdays’ pass for Minky?” She stared blankly and then sighed loudly. “Yes. The answer is… yes!”
What odd phrases this woman speaks. “Good. This pleases me. There will be no room for shyness in my bed.” He reached for her chin, instantly feeling a powerful burst of energy course through him. He made a point not to react; he’d been expecting a goddess, after all. He tilted her head and stared down at her. “You are very small but quite lovely. I could not have picked better myself.” Yes, she will make a fine queen.
He yanked off his shendyt and pointed toward the large sleeping platform covered with the finest pillows and softest sheets known to man. “Now disrobe and lay down so that I may enjoy the pleasures of your divine flesh.”
Chapter Two
(Yep. Still in 3000 BC.)
Well. Not what I was expecting from the king. I felt my left eye tick with anger. Had this… man, this lowly mortal commanded me to strip and get into his bed? Me?
And… is he really, really showing me his scepter? Don’t get me wrong, I was more than pleased to learn I floated the pharaoh’s feluccas, but frankly, I expected more of a challenge. This guy was ready to show me his treasure, and all I had to do was walk through the door. What happened to his vow of celibacy? Darn it. Easy men are no fun!
I suppose it will be equally fun teaching him a bit of humility. Clearly he’d never had to work for a woman’s affection. Clearly his sense of reality was grossly distorted by his gilded cage. Clearly he had no idea who he was dealing with: The most powerful deity in the universe. One who claimed souls just for kicks and spoke to the dead. I saw the future, the past, and the present through their eyes. I’d mastered the power of the River of Tlaloc! Dammit. I had a godsdamned unicorn! Yet he thought he could command me like a two-camel whore?
But did you see his beast-sized penis?
I shrugged. “Okay!” I shed my robe and hopped onto his bed.
He stared with a peculiar grin.
“What? You were expecting me to cower?” I patted the space to my side. “I’m waiting.”
“Well, I—uhhh…” He tilted his head. “You are a very peculiar goddess. From where did you come?”
Good frigging question. “Where did you come from?”
He lifted his chin and crossed his arms over his brawny chest. “You are not in a position to ask questions of me, woman.”
“I’m not?”
His eye twitched with anger. “That was another question.”
“So is this. Ready? What’s the difference between a hooker and a crack dealer?” Oh, he was so going to love this!
“My patience wears thin, woman. You will cease speaking in tongues and asking questions!”
“The hooker can wash her crack and sell it again!” I burst out laughing and rolled onto my stomach, using one of his pillows—Ooh. Soft!—to mop up the tears pouring from my face. Gods, I hadn’t had this good of a chuckle for a few decades. This feels fantastic.
The pharaoh flipped me over. “You dare mock me? I do not care what you are, I will have you whipped if you do not curb your tongue, woman.”
My chuckle died as I considered grabbing that giant penis of his and giving it a little twist and shout.
No, that would be unfair. His penis has done nothing wrong.
Yet. But one can certainly hope!
I stared into the depths of his pupils, the light of the small lamp flickering in his eyes. And that’s when I saw it.
“Holy camel shit!” I scrambled away and jumped off the bed, placing my back against the stone wall. “What the hell?” I couldn’t begin to articulate what I’d seen. Him, me, the birth of the Universe, the death of
everything. Happiness. Destruction. Light. Darkness. All possibilities simultaneously existing on the tip of a needle. One point in time deciding everyone’s fate.
“Who are you?” I blinked and stared at his deeply tanned face. His high cheekbones and full lips were exquisitely masculine, and his thick black brows only accentuated the man’s natural ferocity.
He marched over, chest heaving with livid thoughts. “I am a king. Your king. Bow down before me and vow your loyalty.” His giant bicep bulged as he pointed to the floor. “Bow!” he screamed.
For the first time in my existence, I didn’t know what to do. My mind was a blank. A mortal—an arrogant, sexy mortal—had ordered me to grovel, and all I could think of was…
Nothing? No revenge. No lighting his hair on fire. No humiliating or snarky comments. Nothing. Well, except that I had the overwhelming urge to grovel. Maybe suck one of those gorgeous, golden-brown toes while down there.
Gasp! I want to please him? Make him happy? Yes. I longed for lazy-lover weekends of braiding each other’s hair and slow roasting tiny, succulent creatures over an open fire while reciting poetry about figs and jam. Okay. Who the hell was I kidding? I wanted to hump like eager bunnies until the wee hours of the morning. In fact, I’d do just about anything for it!
Double gasp!
No one controls Cimil! No one! I have to get the hell out of here! I darted for the door, slammed right into an invisible wall, and fell flat on my back.
Multicolored lights blocked my vision. “What the fuck?” I rubbed my temples.
The man stood over me—yes, yes. Still naked. Gloriously naked. And frowning. “I do not know this word fuck you use,” he said, “but I assume you are referring to the doorway.” He smiled wickedly.
Yes and no. I sat up, feeling the room spin, and in that instant, the man placed a cool, hard object, a collar of sorts, around my neck. It clicked as he clasped it.
Okay. Not the time for gifting, a-hole. “You’re delusional if you think a crappy piece of…” I looked down and saw the edge of the thick collar. It was made from several pieces of polished black stone. “A crappy piece of rock is going to appease me.” I hopped up and faced off with the large mortal. “And what the hell did you do to the exit?” For the record, there was nothing but open air in that doorway, yet when I’d tried to pass, it had felt like I’d hit a steel wall.
He grinned with deep satisfaction. “I do not answer to you. But know this, you are not leaving this chamber until you submit and vow your loyalty.”
What the…? Okay. Now I’m pissed. “Look, you snotty piece of mortal bull crap, I answer to no one. I grovel to no one. And I am not going to braid your hair. Even if you managed to get me a pet sea turtle. Which I would love. But still… it’s not happening.” I poked him in the chest, which was conveniently located at eye level since I was only about five feet tall. “I am the Goddess Cimil. Ruler of the Underworld. I have powers you’ve never dreamed of. So open that door, or I will suck the soul from that gorgeous bag of bones you call a body and personally deliver it to the fires of hell, where you will burn for eternity.”
Okay. For the record, I was pretty sure he didn’t know the word hell, but I’m sure he got the point. And there really was no official underworld, so to speak; once the dead crossed over from this world, they hung out in this other dimension until ready for their lights to be recycled back into the cosmos. Some hung out for a really long time—awesome game of poker going down, around the clock—others jumped right back into the cosmic soup for another spin in a people suit. I knew one guy who’d done five hundred laps as a goat herder, each time falling off a cliff while taking a nap. Talk about destined to repeat your mistakes! Somebody get that guy a rope!
The king’s chest rumbled with a deep chuckle. “You think I do not know who you are, woman? I summoned you. I prayed to the Goddess Bastet to deliver you, a minor goddess, to my bed. You are mine now, and you shall be my queen, the mother to my children.”
“Minor!” I burst out laughing and slapped my knee. “Clearly you’ve been sold a peck of pickled peppers, Peter. First, there’s no such Goddess Bastet. She’s some made-up deity, loosely modeled after my sister Camaxtli. And if you had any clue about me”—I held my finger up to his nose (gorgeous, strong, straight nose)—“you’d know that I am the most powerful deity in existence. You’d also know that mortals and gods don’t mix. We are physically incompatible. Although I’d sure like it if we were, ’cause you look like you’d be some fun. After I spank you and put you in your place, of course. But I digress…” It was time to give him a little taste of my power.
This is gonna hurt! I placed my hand on his chest and willed my gift of pain to channel into his body. The sensation, for a mortal, was akin to being poked with a hot iron.
He looked down at me with his fierce eyes as I stood there… Waiting? What the hell?
I removed my palm, looked at it, and placed it back on his chest. “What did you do, Peter?”
He glanced at the collar around my neck and lifted his chin. “Narmer. My name is Narmer.”
“Narmer, Peter, Chucky, Rrrrroberto… who gives a crap?” I roared. “What did you do?”
“Not so powerful after all. Are you, Cimil? I own you now. Best accept the idea because you are not leaving this room until you vow eternal fealty to me.”
“What? Are you insane! You give me back my powers, you oversized monkey nut!” I tugged at the collar, but it wouldn’t come off.
Gasp!
“You can’t keep me here!” I screamed.
Minky! Where’s Minky? Whatever crap he was pulling, whatever magic he’d used, surely it had been intended for me and not for my trusty unicorn.
I scrambled toward the terrace, immediately sensing yet another barrier separating me from my freedom. Camel poop!
I hissed and turned to glare at him.
Okay. Fine. Once Minky got there, I’d make contact and be cloaked by her magic. All right, it’s not truly magic, per se. Unicorns are simply another highly evolved species, made mostly of energy, similar to us deities when not in our corporal states. The unicorn’s current simply flows through anything it touches, making the object or person’s particles vibrate so quickly they appear to be invisible to the naked eye. See. Unicorn mystery revealed! Boom.
“Your magical beast is not coming for you,” Narmer said from across the room. And once again, that deliciously wicked smile of his made an appearance across those full, sensual lips.
“What?” I asked.
“Your beast is my guest. And you will not see it again until my demands are met.”
Jumpin’ Mexican beans! Minky! Nooo!
I stomped my foot. “But how…?”
I glared at the man like I’ve never glared at anyone in my entire existence. How had they known about Minky? Or that I was coming? Who was this guy? How the hell had he trumped me?
I marched over to the bed, sat down with my back to him, and began humming.
“What are you doing?” he asked.
“Outliving you.” He could lock me in this room, take away my powers and my precious Minky, but eventually, he would get old and die. He was what? Thirtyish? Humans lived to about forty or fifty in this day and age. I could hang out in his bedroom for a decade or two. No problem. I’d once spent an entire century in a bubble bath. With Minky, of course. (She makes the best bubbles. Rainbow colored.)
Narmer cleared his throat. “The collar you wear will not come off until I remove it. If you wish to wear it for eternity, then so be it.”
He left the room as easy breezy as I’d entered it.
“Son of a bitch!” I’d been one-upped by a mortal.
Where had he obtained such powerful magic? This situation reeked of fishy fish. And yet I was distinctly turned on. Finally! A male that is my match!
Chapter Three
Narmer paced across his temporary chamber, cursing the gods. Was this some sort of perverse joke? Seven excruciating days had passed, and that st
ubborn goddess remained seated on the edge of his bed in the other room, staring outside. She did not move, blink, or speak. Yet he knew she felt acutely aware of his presence; the air filled with odd vibrations and heat, making the hairs on his arms stand up each time he neared her.
How much longer would she hold out? Surely this was not part of the bargain, the wish of the Goddess Bastet.
Time to ask for help.
“You called, my king?” said the holy man, fat with food and drink, a young woman on each arm.
How any female, even commanded by him, the king, could stomach touching the vile, reptilian man, he did not know. Personally, he’d rather remove his own skin than allow it to come into contact.
Narmer cleared his throat. “Mitnal, I require your assistance. Immediately.” He knew asking for this powerful priest’s help to again make contact with the gods would come with a steep price. Everything with him did. It was the reason Narmer hoped Mitnal would soon go back to the jungles from where he came.
Twenty moons ago, a mysterious band of nomads—short in stature, straight black hair the texture of linen threads, high cheekbones, and fat cheeks—passed through Egypt, telling tales of being from the future. They spoke of a magical tablet made of a material called black jade and called themselves the Mayans. They claimed to have built great stone structures that reached high into the sky, allowing them to speak to their gods.
Narmer had not met these travelers personally, but venomous rumors of their greatness spread like a wildfire. The Egyptian people began to doubt Narmer’s power, doubt that his kingdom was the most favorite of the gods. They began to believe their place in the afterlife was at stake.
Narmer immediately sent two hundred men to bring these Mayans to him, but not a trace was found, only fueling his subjects’ speculation of their great abilities. Of course, Narmer did not believe the Mayans were from the future and sent his men back out, commanding them to find these travelers and these lands filled with lush greenery and odd-shaped structures that touched the clouds, which they had spoken of.
Twelve moons later, only one of his soldiers returned. According to this man, he began his journey on a small sailing vessel with six others. They traveled north, where they encountered a group of golden-haired barbarians who knew of the Mayans. “Across the ocean, where the air is hot and wet, you will find them,” they’d said after being coaxed with a bit of gold.