Accidentally...Evil? (Accidentally Yours) (7 page)

Yes, she saw everything so clearly now. So, so clearly.

Life was nothing but a constant flow, the universe breathing in and out.
I am part of it.
Every mundane action, every thought, every smile or frown shown even to a stranger created a chain of events, like ripples in a pond.

Fear had once blinded her, but now she knew: She mattered. She mattered. She mattered. Just like Chaam, everything she did mattered. And it filled her with power and purpose.

“You see me?” He nudged the pendant of her necklace to one side and placed a gentle kiss on the hollow of her neck. “Who am I?”

“You’re magic. My magic.” She stroked the back of his head. His long hair was soft and magnificent. She could spend an eternity petting it
and everything else
.

Chaam lifted his head. “Magic?” He beamed. “Well, that is quite the compliment. I’ve been called many things, but a magician…”

Still inside her, he gently pushed his hips forward. His erection had not shown the slightest signs of flagging.

A sharp wave of ecstasy bolted through her, and she gasped. “Oh yes. Magic.”

Slowly, he rocked his hips. “Let me show you my next trick. I think I know exactly what you want.”

Several hours later, Maggie’s deliciously sore body was a heap of weak, quivering muscles. Who knew hammocks were so versatile? Sideways, diagonally, on the top or on the bottom, the netting molded to their forms and allowed the night breeze to cool their heated, sweat-covered bodies.

I will never sleep in a bed again.

Chaam extracted himself carefully from the hammock, and the campfire, now a murmuring pile of glowing embers, afforded her a glimpse of his glorious backside. Smooth, round, firm. Even the rippling muscles in his back were something to behold. The first chance she got, she would put paint to canvas and capture every inch of him. Those gorgeous toes included. Someone needed to pay the appropriate homage to this specimen of male perfection.

“Where are you going?” she asked.

He leaned down and scooped her into his arms. “
We
are going for a swim. It will revive you.”

Revive her? Dear sweet God of Male Virility, he wanted more?

The lake was considerably warmer than the air outside. Like tepid bathwater, really. The two splashed and played and Chaam found himself not wanting to go very long without touching that creamy, soft skin, the feminine curve of her hips, or those perfectly round breasts. And those lips? Two plump little pillows meant for seduction. But of all her sinful gifts, he loved her eyes most. The darkest of browns, almost black. They were wide and bright and the most glorious windows to her glorious soul—a soul of the purest color he’d ever seen.

Making love to her had been the most amazing experience of his existence. He didn’t know if he felt love or if the gods were capable of such feelings, but attempting to define such emotions with a word would not do. She’d embedded her light inside his soul.

Waist high in the water, he pulled Maggie into his arms. She shivered.

“Cold?” he asked.

“Can you warm me up?”

With the darkness of night, he could not see her face, but he knew she grinned.

“I can figure something out.” He picked her up and threw her over his shoulder.

She laughed and squirmed. “Put me down!”

He smacked her fleshy backside. “Silence, woman.” He easily climbed from the water and deposited her on the dock.

“Woman? I’m a lady.”

“Not anymore.”

“What!” She giggled and slapped his bare chest. “Well, whose fault is that?”

“Mine. All mine,” he said. But was she? His, that is? Saints, he’d not thought the situation through. Christ. Maggie had never answered his question. What was she? If not immortal, she would eventually die and leave him.

Leave. Him.

He gripped her firmly by the shoulders. “Maggie. You will tell me what you are. No more games.”

She squirmed. “You’re hurting me. What’s gotten into you?”

He released her and hissed, “I’m sorry. I often forget my strength. But dammit, woman! Tell me.”

“I told you, I’m human.” The darkness masked her expression, but fear permeated her voice.

“Impossible!”

“Why? Why won’t you believe me?” she argued.

“Because gods cannot make love to humans.”

“But I am human! I am. Can’t you look into my eyes or something? I’m not lying.” She tugged him toward the fire. “Put another log on so you can look.”

“Gods dammit.” He stood firm and ran his hand over his dripping wet hair.

Maggie rubbed his arm. “What is it? Tell me.”

Fear. It welled inside him.

For fuck’s sake.
He’d never felt this emotion before. But then again, he’d never had anything to lose.

“If you are telling the truth, Maggie, then you will die someday.”

“Oh,” was all she replied.

He couldn’t lose her. Not now.

“Maggie, you will come to my world. We will ask the gods to grant you immortality.

Immortality?

“I’m… I’m sorry. But did you just say ‘immortality’?”

“Yes,” he said.

She could not see his face, but she felt the stark pain in his voice. He was serious. “Is it really possible?”

“Yes.”

Live forever? With him? God save her—
or is that
gods
?
—she had no idea what to do or say. What would be the repercussion? Did he even love her? She hoped with all her heart that he did because after everything she’d seen and felt, she knew there had been a reason no other man had ever reached her heart; it belonged to Chaam, and it always would.

“Why? Tell me why,” she said.

“Maggie, I have waited my entire existence for you. The universe has given me this gift. You are mine, my reward for thousands of years of dedication and loyalty. I’m not about to let you go.”

That was not what she’d hoped to hear. In fact, he made her sound like a booby prize. Not the naughty kind, but the silly kind.

“Maggie, I will not take no for an answer.”

“What will happen to my soul?”

“Your soul? I-I do not know. I suppose it stays with you.”

“You’re a god, but you don’t know?”

“We don’t know everything, Maggie. We simply know more.”

She needed time to think. It was all too much to take in. And now she knew the truth: there were no decisions, no actions without consequence. Everything mattered.

“Can I have some time?” she asked.

Anger radiated from his body. “You may have until sunrise.”

“Why are you pushing me, Chaam?”

“If you speak the truth, then you are mortal. Mortals die by the thousands every second. I’m not about to risk anything happening to the one person I cannot live without.”

A tiny fissure opened in her heart as she thought of him suffering for an eternity. Maybe he didn’t love her. She didn’t know. But he needed her, and she loved him.

Yes. The situation was pure insanity. One big loco-sombrero.

She’d met a man in the jungle today who wasn’t really a man. She became his prisoner, then his lover. Now she loved him.

Insanity.

And it didn’t matter if he loved her back; she would give her loco-sombrero to ensure he never suffered again.

“What if the other gods say no?” she asked.

Her backhanded acceptance sparked a glorious smile on her god’s face. “They will not. Asking permission is customary—an offering to their egos. Once those are satisfied, they will not stand in our way.”

“Are they like you?”

He laughed. “Yes and no. We are all unique, although my brothers, Votan and Zac, are physically similar to me when in their human forms, so I will warn you now not to get any ideas.”

As if she could ever look at another man—errr—deity.

“I want you. Just you,” she said.

Chaam kissed her, and his joy washed over her like a burst of warm sunshine.

“And you shall have me,” he said.

“Will I?” She slid her hands around his waist and leaned in. She couldn’t get enough of him or his wickedly sweet smell. And now that she’d accepted who he was, what he was, his grandness felt magnified somehow. Maybe because she understood all that he’d done, all that he’d sacrificed for humanity.

But did he know the world was an infinitely better place because he was part of it? The first chance she had, she would tell him.

But for the time being…

Chaam laid her down on the dock and hovered over her. His silhouette against the night sky was awe-inspiring. With his mouth he sought for her neck and swept her hair to one side. As he did, the necklace she wore became tangled in her wet mane and pulled uncomfortably on a few strands at her nape. She gave the chain a little tug and it broke free, but not before ripping a clump of hair out with it.

She screamed as scorching, searing pain ripped through her. She fell to the side, writhing in agony. Had her body been torn into two?

“Maggie!” She heard Chaam screaming in some dark corner of her mind. “Maggie. Speak to me!”

She couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t move. She was going to die this very moment, and now he would suffer for eternity.

Blackness.

November 2, 1934 (Day of the Dead)

Chaam stared at Maggie’s immobile body stretched across the dock.
What the hell just happened?

He dropped to his knees and placed his ear over her heart. The organ thrummed for two blissful seconds and then produced a choppy monstrosity of sound reminiscent of a cat walking across the keys of a piano.

He jerked his head up and then lowered it again, hovering just above her chest. The heartbeat returned to normal.

He repeated the act of touching her and breaking contact twice more. Each time produced the same result. Until he placed the necklace over her stomach.

Christ, no. This cannot be.

Maggie began to stir. “Chaam?” she asked with a bleary voice.

He resisted having a very unmanly display of hysterics. “Thank the gods, you’re all right.”

She sat up and rubbed her red eyes. It was nearly dawn now, the sky a brilliant pallet of pinks and lavenders. “What happened?”

His relief and shock shifted to wrath. “This happened.” He held up the tiny teardrop-shaped black stone mounted on a smooth silver plaque.

She reached for the vacant spot on her neck.

“Where did you get this?” he demanded.

“Why are you angry?”

He crouched and touched her arm.

“Ouch!” She jerked away.

“Who are you?” he demanded.

“But I don’t understa—”

“Tell me!” he screamed.

She held out her palms. “Chaam. You’re scaring me. What’s going on?”

“The Maaskab sent you, didn’t they? You were sent to destroy me.”

Maggie choked down the thick lump of dread stuck in her throat. One moment she’d been basking in Chaam’s warmth and affection, the next she was lying on the dock, her insides charred. To top it off, she’d woken to a completely different Chaam. This version was cold, furious, and deadly.

Why? And what was this thing—
a maskib?—
he’d accused her of being?

“Get dressed.” He tossed the dress to her side. She noticed he now wore his white trousers.

She quickly stood and slipped her dress over her head while her mind bounced against a brick wall. She didn’t know what to do. Run perhaps? Something told her that would only make matters worse.

Reason with him.
“You need to explain why you are upset.”

“Upset? Gods don’t get upset, Maggie. We get furious, and then we exact our justice.” Terrifying rage flickered in his eyes.

“What did I do?” She stepped back.

“Don’t play stupid. This sort of dark power can only come from one place.” He held up the necklace.

He’s angry over that?
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. My father gave it to me.”

“And where did he obtain it? Tell me!” He grabbed her arms. The contact sent tiny shards of hot glass charging through her veins.

She jerked way, gasping in pain. “I don’t know. The ruin, I guess. Why?” She used the air in her lungs to straighten her spine.

He brought his nose to hers and snarled like a monster. “Tell them that they will all burn in hell. The Maaskab will never defeat us. They will never have this world.”

“What are you talking about?” she said.

He stilled for several moments. “Never mind. I will tell them myself. I’m sure your father will know where to find them.”

He turned away and marched off into the jungle.

“No! You’re going to hurt him!”
Oh my God! Oh my God.
“No! Please, please don’t do this!”

She ran after him but found herself alone in the middle of a stand of trees, without shoes, without knowing where she was going, without knowing how everything had gone so wrong.

She sank to her knees. Why had he turned on her?

Chaam stormed into the brush, pushing down tree after tree to release his anger. How could he have been such a fool? To pathetically believe Maggie was his mate, sent by the universe.

Pathetic fucking fool.
Maggie was just an ordinary human with a Maaskab necklace. Well, he surmised it was Maaskab. Those evil bastards had been around since the dawn of the Mayan era. Originally, they had been run-of-the-mill priests. But where there is power to be had, evil always lurks. Centuries of quiet power struggles had eventually led to their outright bloodshed and decimation of the population. Those who could, escaped, and the Mayan civilization collapsed.

It had been a very dark hour for the gods. They should have intervened; they should have taken the Maaskab down, but their laws prohibited influencing the evolution of humanity unless the path led to complete destruction. At the time, it had not.

Chaam looked toward the early morning sky. Above him perched a black and yellow toucan with a red-tipped beak, staring with needy eyes. “For fuck’s sake. Fine! I’ll help you with your mate, but you will tell me where to find Maggie’s father.”

The bird squawked.

The ruin wasn’t far. Just a few minutes northwest. “Lead the way, Romeo.”