Or are those big toes? Christ… what a pinche pack of locos.
“Give us the tablet.” Its voice sounded like nails screeching across a chalkboard.
Antonio looked down at the shimmering artifact lying on the floor beside him. Like hell he would. He’d rather die than hand over the only means to getting Ixtab back.
He placed his foot on top of the tablet and slid it a few inches back. “Pick it up, Margaret.” He had no clue if he could trust this woman who’d come through the portal, but clearly she was his best bet in the room.
He felt her move, even though his eyes stayed locked on the dangerous creatures, thinking through his options. Not many. They were in the basement of the house, and the only way out was through them.
“The tablet is mine,” Antonio growled.
The creature studied him with its soulless eyes—black irises surrounded by blood red. “Cimil promised it to us in exchange for helping the incubus. Where is he?” it growled, red spittle projecting from its mouth.
Cimil? The goddess who led him to the tablet in the first place?
“Don’t let them have it,” Margaret whispered from behind. “God only knows what they’ll do with it.”
No one, and he meant no one, was getting the tablet. Even if he had to drink these bastards to keep it. Gulp, gulp, motherfuckers.
There are three.
Sí, that is a pinche problema.
He quickly assessed. Could he use his speed to run past them? It was worth a try, because if he stayed there, he’d end up fighting them anyway.
Time to go.
He twisted and grabbed Margaret, clutching the petite woman like a football under his arm. They made it two steps before something plucked them out of thin air and whipped them to the cement floor. Antonio heard Margaret scream as his head smacked the ground, stunning him.
He opened his blurring eyes. Caray!
One of the creatures stood over Margaret and pulled a long, bloody dagger from its waistband. It raised the dagger over Margaret’s chest.
She held out her hands. “No! I am your king’s mate! I am your queen!”
The gargantuan creature paused and studied her for a moment. Whatever impression Margaret had hoped her words might have failed. The creature raised its knife and plunged. Antonio leaped and grabbed the Maaskab’s arm, stopping it a centimeter from her chest. The monster’s eyes widened and moved to Antonio’s face.
That’s when Antonio felt it: the darkness inside the evil priest. It snaked up Antonio’s arm, seared its way into his flesh, and sank into his veins. He’d never felt anything so vile, so void of life, so horrid. And it tasted…
… Fucking delicious! More…
The creature sank to its knees, leaving bloody tracks down its throat as it clawed and struggled to breathe. Antonio drank it in, feeling the creature’s energy sate his hunger and fill him with power. This was nothing like Ixtab’s sweet touch. This was like eating meat. Raw, bloody, delicious meat.
“Watch out!” Margaret screamed, scrambling from the floor toward the sanctuary of the corner.
An arm reached around Antonio’s neck and squeezed. He released the first creature and latched on to the new attacker with his hands. Delicious, succulent, dark energy poured in. How could something so horrid taste so good?
The creature dropped to the ground, lifeless.
Antonio looked up, ready for another meal, but he found only Margaret staring in wonderment. “How did you do that?”
Antonio looked around the room. He wanted more.
Margaret pointed toward the door. “The third one fled.”
Antonio closed his eyes and savored the sensation coursing through him. In all his years, he never could’ve imagined that killing something for sustenance could feel so magnanimous, so damned good, like he’d been born to do it.
No more soy milk for you.
Okay, except perhaps for the chocolate kind; that shit is good.
Panting, he stood and leaned his heavy frame into the wall, shaking his head. “Are you all right?” he finally asked the woman.
“Yeah. I think so.”
“Good. Now mind telling me who you are,” he said.
“Margaret O’Hare. I already told you that.”
Like that even came close to fucking explaining it. “Let’s start with the basics—why did you tell that creature you are its queen?”
She produced an awkward laugh. “Because I am?”
Great. I just freed the Maaskab queen. Well, at least they didn’t seem to like her much. That was something.
* * *
Killing time on the plane and catching up on her important secondhand eBay shopping, Cimil held up her phone and looked at the text message from Roberto. “Oh, thank the gods.” She sighed with relief. The incubus and Ixtab were sucked into the portal as she’d hoped.
Sweet. Any Maaskab get away from the Dr.? she texted.
Roberto: Just one. I ate him.
Ewww… was he chewy?
Roberto: Yes
Yeah. She’d eaten a Maaskab once when she’d run out of Milk Duds. There was such a thing as too chewy and the Maaskab were it.
Cimil: And the flock of Scabs hanging out in the guest villa?
Roberto: Ate them, too. Was hungry.
Cimil cringed. “Jeez. No kidding.”
That’s a good vampire. See you in Sedona for the handoff.
Then he could start rounding up all the vampires in Euro Disney for the final phase of Operation Over. Because little did anyone know there was really only one ruler of the vampire army, and that was their maker: Roberto.
Roberto: I love you my little cuddly ball of death and destruction.
Cimil: XOXO, Baby
* * *
“What do you mean you ‘lost’ Ixtab?” Penelope asked on the other end of the phone.
“Lost. As in fucking gone!” Antonio screamed, pacing across his bedroom.
“Was that before or after the Maaskab attacked and you ate them for dinner? By the way, that is quite possibly the most disgusting meal I’ve ever heard of. Way worse than those cactus larva tacos Belch keeps raving about,” she said.
Yes. Yes, it was. And he’d do it again in a heartbeat. “I didn’t eat the Maaskab, I drained their souls for sustenance,” he explained.
“Wait. So you didn’t drink their blood?” she asked.
“No. I am a vegetarian; I don’t drink blood.” But I apparently drain dark energy from living creatures and turn it into food.
What the hell have I become?
“I’m not following,” she said. “Can you start over again? Go to the part where you say you killed Ixtab again.”
“I didn’t kill her…” Which was good because Ixtab would never forgive him if he ever did that again. “… We opened the portal, and she was sucked in with my father,” he explained.
“The demon? She got sucked in with the demon?”
“Yes. She sacrificed herself,” he replied.
“Oh, that is so sweet. She must love you.”
Ixtab? Love him? He’d be lucky if she spit in his general direction after all of the crap he’d pulled on her.
Antonio snarled at himself.
“Well, she must,” Penelope argued. “Don’t panic. The most important thing is you didn’t let the Maaskab get the tablet. We can still reopen the portal and get her back.”
“We can’t,” he said. “The portal sucked in all of my equipment.”
“Then build more equipment,” Penelope said.
“It will take months!” he screamed. Calm down, coño. Calm down.
“No. It won’t. Besides, we don’t have months,” said Margaret, who stood behind him listening to the conversation and picking through a pile of clean clothes the maid Kirstie had brought to his room. No doubt they smelled like borscht.
“Who is that talking?” Penelope asked.
“That’s why I’m calling,” he said. “She came out of the portal—she says she knows how to reopen i
t on her own, but she’s demanding to see the gods first.”
“Who is she?” Penelope asked.
“She says her name in Margaret O’Hare,” he replied. “She says she’s your brother’s mate, Backlum Chaam’s mate.”
“Hold on,” Penelope said and then screamed for Kinich.
“What’s wrong?” Antonio could hear Kinich panting in the background. “Is it the baby?”
“You’re so sweet. Gods, I love you.” Penelope repeated the conversation to Kinich.
“A mate? Chaam? I wasn’t aware of him finding one,” Kinich grumbled in the background.
“She’s demanding to speak with us,” Penelope explained. “All of us. Do you think it’s a trick? I mean, she came out of that portal; she could be another demon. What if this is a Maaskab trick?” she asked.
“Let me speak to her,” Kinich barked over the phone into Antonio’s ear.
“They want to speak with you.” Antonio held out the phone, but Margaret simply stared, unsure of what to do.
Antonio activated the speaker. “Go ahead. They’re listening.”
Margaret walked over and screamed hello into the phone.
“Chaam never mentioned a mate,” Kinich said. “Can you prove what you say?”
“Proof? No, I don’t have proof,” she screamed.
“You don’t need to yell,” Antonio whispered.
“Oh. Sorry.” Margaret blushed. “I don’t have proof, but I can tell you this: your sister Cimil is behind it all. Chaam turning evil, killing those women, the creation of the Maaskab and the Obscuros. She’s the reason your brother Zac compelled you and had you try to kill Penelope.”
There was a long silence on the other end of the phone. “Why didn’t you tell me?” Kinich asked.
Apparently the question was directed at Penelope, who simply stuttered. “It’s t-t-true.” “Your brother Zac is the God of Temptation. He used his powers on you so that you’d be tempted by my blood,” she said regretfully. She blew out a breath. “He also used his power on me so I’d leave you and marry him.”
Antonio was grateful not to be in the same room with them because Kinich’s fury could be felt halfway around the world, and at this moment, Antonio had about all the rage he could manage given the situation with Ixtab.
“I see,” Kinich said. “Antonio, the Uchben will be there within the hour to take you to our plane. Bring the woman to Arizona immediately. I want to hear what else she has to say and so will my brethren.”
Antonio hung up the phone and looked at Margaret who returned to picking out clothes. “All right. The gods have agreed to meet with you, now tell me what you know.”
“I need to bathe. Do you have a powder room?” she asked politely.
“You’re not going to tell me anything?”
“Powder room?”
That was a no. This woman may not make it alive to Arizona.
Chapter Veintinueve
Antonio fought desperately not to throttle the mystery woman calmly sitting across from him on the private plane. From the moment they’d hung up the phone with Penelope and Kinich, she’d stopped talking.
Sure. Six goddamned weeks, the woman doesn’t shut the hell up. “Save me. Save me!” And now he couldn’t get her to speak one syllable worth a damn. He wanted to know how she’d been able to communicate with him. Why had he seen Ixtab’s face but heard this woman’s voice? Why did she want to speak to the gods? What was on the other side of the portal? Was Ixtab safe? Every time he asked a question, she’d simply replied that there’d be no answers until she had what she wanted.
Rage and panic, coupled with the powerful surge in energy he felt from his rather large snack, made him feel like he might actually lose his fucking mind. You will get her back. You will save Ixtab…
He returned to his seething. And glaring. And stewing. “I saved your life,” he blurted out.
“And you have my gratitude,” Margaret replied with a cold stare.
“You have a sick way of showing it. What do you want? Money? Revenge? Just tell me what the hell is going on, and I’ll get you anything you want.”
“Right now, I’d like a strong drink. Whiskey.”
Whiskey? She wanted whiskey?
He pointed toward the bar in the back of the plane. “Help yourself.”
She popped out of her seat, seemingly oblivious to the fact he might actually rip off her head before they made it Arizona.
Antonio slid his iPad from his leather backpack, mumbling furiously while his e-mails loaded.
After the attack, while his maid saw to Margaret’s “powder room” needs, he’d carefully wrapped up the tablet, preparing it for transport, and jumped on ordering new equipment to be delivered to Arizona. He calculated it would take one month to rebuild the simulator. He prayed Ixtab would be all right until then, wherever she was, because he’d never forgive himself if he lost her.
But what will happen if you open the portal again? If his father were to escape, they’d be back to square one; the demon needed a new body. On the other hand, he couldn’t live without Ixtab. He needed her. No, perhaps need was too casual of a word. A man could say he needed clean socks or a cold beer on a hot day. A man could claim he needed a good fuck or new lawn mower. Need wasn’t the correct word to describe what he truly felt. Ixtab had infused herself with his heart and soul. Without her, he felt like a hollowed-out shell of a man who might never have the urge to take another breath or fight another battle or give a shit about anything ever again in this world if he didn’t get her back. He didn’t need Ixtab. He’d cease to exist without her.
And how the hell had he been such an idiot to not see she was the one? From the moment they’d met, he’d been drawn to everything about her—sharp edges, horrible humor, the tenacity of a pit bull. Holy hell, she was magnificent. And then there was her beauty. It was hard to imagine that beneath the awful black shroud hid the most divine female to ever walk the planet. Deeply bronzed skin; full, sumptuous lips; long, flowing dark hair; and a set of piercing eyes that could stop any man in his tracks.
Christ, he’d wanted her so badly even before he’d known what she looked like, which was a testimony to the powerful connection between them. Yes, that night in Bacalar—touching and kissing her body so intimately—had been the most unexpected, pleasurable experience of his life. He could only imagine what it would have been like if they’d been able to finish what they had started. But his lust didn’t come close to the depth of emotion he now felt for her.
He’d never have another sane or happy moment again without her.
He had to get her back.
Though would she want him after everything he’d done so horribly wrong? He’d refused to listen to her countless times, he’d unjustly directed his frustration and anger toward her when she’d simply been trying to help him, and he’d thrown this other woman in her face after she’d told him about the most painful moment of her life. Then… she still sacrificed herself for him.
Gods, he was such a coldhearted bastard. He’d let his hatred for his father and fear of losing his brother consume him.
He could only hope for a chance to make amends. Yes, whatever it took, he would find a way to get her back without freeing his father. Perhaps the gods will know what to do. Because this Margaret woman sure as hell isn’t going to help me.
He looked at Margaret, who seemed lost in her own thoughts, and then at his watch. They were still two hours away. He went back to his e-mail, hoping for a short distraction. There was a note from his brother, who was on a business trip to Los Angeles and none the wiser that his life had been on the line or that their father was a demon and had been sucked into a portal. Antonio would have to explain everything when the time came.
Then Antonio saw that one of the parts he’d ordered for the circuit board was out of stock. “Son of a bitch,” he seethed. “Eight weeks for one pinche circuito!”
“I wouldn’t bother, yanno.”
He looked up at Margaret, who
stared with intense dark eyes, sipping a glass of whiskey. “What do you mean?” he asked.
“The equipment can’t open the portal. It never could.”
“What do you mean?” he asked again, this time scathing.
She turned her gaze out the window.
She wasn’t going to answer.
“What did I ever do to you?” he asked.
She didn’t respond, but that wouldn’t stop him from giving her a piece of his mind.
“You nearly drove me mad while I tried to free you. Do you have any idea what I went through? Do you? I went blind. I had my throat ripped out and died. I turned into a vampire and killed—yes, killed a goddess, who, by the way, happens to be the woman I love and have now lost! Lost saving you! So if you think for one moment that I won’t hurt you to get her back, you are mistaken.”
She glanced at him, her face a vision of tranquility. “I know you won’t believe me, but Ixtab getting sucked into the portal was never part of my plan.”
“Then help me get her back. Tell me how to reopen the portal,” he demanded, standing over her.
She glared fearlessly with her deep brown eyes. “Do you think I’m an idiot? You think I’m going to tell you anything before I have what I want? I’ve waited over eighty years, watching the man I love suffer.” She looked out the window. “You’ll get your answers, Antonio, when I have justice for Chaam.”
“What if the gods don’t give you what you want?” Whatever the hell that was.
“Then it’s simple. You will not get Ixtab back.”
Like hell he wouldn’t.
* * *
Near Sedona, Arizona
Two hours later, the sky swirled with brilliant shades of blazing oranges and reds as the plane touched down just after sunrise on the dusty airstrip at the Uchben base. For a few moments, Antonio imagined it was a sign that the heavens were filled with contempt for his having let Ixtab slip through his fingers. And they had a right to be angry with him.
You fool.
The soldiers, who’d flown the plane, wasted little time ushering him and Margaret into a black Hummer and getting them to the estate a few kilometers away, situated atop a hill. Antonio had never been to this part of the country, but it looked exactly as one might imagine. Large cactus jutting from the ground like thorny sentinels, watching over miles of open sandy-brown dirt, the sharp angles of the buttes off in the distance, the straggly dry vegetation scattered across the desert floor like confetti after a big parade. Somehow the barren surroundings only made Antonio feel more anxious. This was not the sort of place he imagined his fate being decided.