“And something tells me,” Fate added, “that bad boy Spaniard could go all night.”
She wants him? Ixtab’s jealously ran across the court in squeaky sneakers, jumped, and spiked a ball through her possessive hoop. The thought of Fate getting anywhere near the physicist made her blood boil. Why? She had no clue. This man wasn’t Ixtab’s Francisco; he just looked a lot like him. Nevertheless, the words “But I’ll be going to New York right after Denver” burst from Ixtab’s mouth.
Why? Why had she said that?
Fate’s eyes narrowed. “I thought you were too busy?”
Ixtab answered with her own narrowed eyes and added a Dirty Harry, one-eyed twitch for good measure. If only Fate could see it. “Not too busy to save the world.” Bitch.
“Fine.”
“Fine.”
Fate stood and smoothed down the front of her pleated, short dress. “By the way, we’d like you to visit Penelope before you leave.”
“What’s wrong with her?”
Fate cocked one sassy, golden brow. “You should’ve stuck around for the rest of the meeting.”
Fate turned to leave but Ixtab sprinted to the door and slammed it shut. She knew Fate wouldn’t touch her. No one touched her; they were simply too afraid. “Dish, you dirty pig whore, or I’ll hug you.”
Fate rolled her eyes. “You think you’re so much better than the rest of us, don’t you?”
Me? She’s accusing me of being a snob? The nerve! “Oh, Fate. I know I’m better than you because I actually have a working heart. Now dish or I’ll take those arrows of yours and make Fate-kabob.”
* * *
Ixtab paused outside Penelope’s bedroom door. The sobs could be heard from the other side of Arizona, but who could blame her, really? According to Fate, the rest of the summit meeting had not gone well thanks to Zac who arranged to have Kinich sent away. Worst of all, Kinich himself had agreed. He’d written a letter to his brethren, confessing his urge to kill Penelope and asked that she stay away from him. Indefinitely.
Ixtab knocked lightly. “Penelope?”
“Hold on.” Sniffle, sniffle. “Be right there.” Blow, blow. “Come in.”
Ixtab popped her veiled head through the doorway. “You okay?”
Penelope stood at the other end of Kinich’s spacious bedroom—complete with indoor waterfall and trickling stream—gazing out the large window overlooking the moonlit hills of the surrounding desert.
“I was just watching Cimil on the live YouTube cam,” said Penelope with a dreary voice. “She’s ironing that vampire’s capes—did you know he’s got over a thousand?”
Ixtab glanced at the flat screen on mute. Sure enough, there was Cimil, ex–Goddess of the Underworld, ironing and disco dancing in a sparkling pink bikini while eating glazed doughnuts as Roberto the Ancient One watched with a giant hungry grin.
Ixtab shuddered. “I find that extremely disturbing.”
“Yet, it’s impossible to look away.”
Yes, probably because there was a certain poetic justice to it all. Given Cimil’s treachery and lies—too many to count—Ixtab couldn’t imagine a more just punishment than being slave to a very ancient vampire who had a lover’s bone to pick. Nevertheless, the whole situation didn’t taste right. Before being taken away, Cimil confessed to having lied to everyone. All these millennia, she’d only pretended to see the future? It didn’t make sense. Not when there was no shame in the truth—Cimil’s real gift was speaking to the dead, who existed in a place beyond the confines of time, an equally powerful gift. Simply put, her lie made no sense.
Perhaps she’s finally gone off the deep end.
“You know, I tried to cure Cimil of her insanity once,” Ixtab stated quietly.
“What happened?” Penelope asked.
“I failed. It was about five hundred years ago, but I can still taste Cimil’s darkness. I never did find out what caused her so much pain, but her misery branded itself in my mind right before putting me in a two-hundred-year coma.”
“That must’ve felt awful,” Penelope said.
“I was asleep the entire time, so it didn’t feel like anything even though my brothers and sisters had to find over ten thousand country-club members.”
“Country-club members?” Pen asked.
“When I absorb dark energy from others, I must expel it somewhere. Preferably into a worthy victim—I prefer to call them country-club members. Sounds more pleasant. But until I find them, whatever ailments and darkness I absorb stays within me. If I don’t cleanse the darkness, I eventually reach capacity and shut down.”
“So you’re the anti–Robin Hood?” Penelope asked. “You steal from the good and give to the evil?”
“Or the innocent,” Ixtab mumbled regrettably. “I can’t help it; sometimes they’re drawn to me. Sometimes the dark energy has a mind of its own… like in the case of Cimil. The darkness didn’t want to leave her.”
Penelope’s eyes flashed toward the screen. “I thought watching Cimil be punished would cheer me up, but now I only feel sorry for her.” Penelope made a pathetic little shrug and sat down on the unmade bed. “Ixtab?” Penelope looked up at her with her large green eyes. “Do you believe Kinich would hurt me?”
He’d eat you up like a vampire Pop-Tart. “Penelope, I wasn’t there, but the other deities went to see Kinich again and witnessed him going crazy after smelling a few drops of your blood. Sending him away is best for you and the baby.”
“I know. You’re right. But why does a part of me refuse to believe he’d actually hurt me? It’s ridiculous, right?”
“Sometimes believing the truth isn’t easy. Like the time Cimil brought Bigfoot to my apartment in Italy riding on her unicorn.”
“Huh?”
Oh. I think that was supposed to be a secret. “Uh—nothing. I said Kinich is going to stay in an apartment in Helena’s building for now so I can keep a close eye on him—”
“You’re going? To New York?”
Ixtab nodded.
“Thank gods. I know if anyone can fix all this and help Kinich, you can.”
The vote of confidence felt so good that Ixtab almost believed in herself. Almost. “I’ll call the moment he gets himself under control.”
Penelope’s gaze suddenly fell empty.
“Penelope? You do want me to call, don’t you?” Ixtab asked.
Penelope stood and walked over to the window again. “I-I wonder if he’ll ever love me the way I love him. Maybe it’s just not meant to be, like Zac said.”
Zac? That he-brat? “Don’t listen to him.”
“Zac asked me to marry him,” Penelope blurted out.
Oh. That was so wrong. And so Zac. He always took whatever he wanted. He’d once taken Ixtab’s favorite island, but that was Tahitian water under the bridge. In all fairness, the gods tended to be greedy when it came to material things. It was a deity thing.
“How did you respond?” Ixtab asked.
“Said I’d think about it.” She looked down at her stomach. “How can I not? Kinich’s only interest in me is for blood, and I’m not strong enough to do this on my own.” She rubbed her face and groaned. “And I have to admit, there is something about Zac I can’t pinpoint. I feel drawn to him.”
That sounds fishy. Though no one knew for certain, everyone believed Zac was the God of Love. However, except under very specific circumstances, it was prohibited for a god to use his or her powers on another of their brethren without permission. This was one of their most sacred laws, right up there with time travel. A big, giant no-no. So had Zac been using his powers on Penelope?
“Look at me.” Penelope did, and Ixtab gazed deeply into her eyes.
Hmmm… She didn’t see any odd-looking colors or residuals that might indicate foul play, but this wasn’t her area of expertise. She did note, however, a gray tint coating Penelope’s aura. So much sadness. “I’m going to help you feel better.”
Penelope bobbed her head slowly.
Ixtab
took a deep breath and visualized the empty cells inside her body. She willed them to open their arms to Penelope’s darkness. Ixtab gripped Penelope’s shoulder. “Teen uk’al k’iinam. Teen uk’al yah.” I drink your ache. I drink your pain.
Penelope’s body stiffened and then collapsed as it released the darkness enveloping her spirit. Ixtab scooped her up, carried her to the bed, and laid her down as the transfer completed.
“What did you do to me?” Penelope gazed up at Ixtab with wide eyes.
Such a lovely soul.
Ixtab smiled beneath her curtain of black lace. “That was my gift to help you through the next few days.” She turned to leave. “Oh, and Penelope?”
“Yes?”
“You should know… I felt your baby’s light, and it is pure love. That means Kinich is your true soul mate. Now you have no reason to doubt that everything will work out.”
Ixtab left before Penelope saw the sadness over take her. Penelope’s despair, now circulating inside Ixtab’s body, was profound, the type only encountered when true love was in jeopardy. How had Penelope been functioning with such heaviness in her heart?
Such a brave creature.
Ixtab headed straight for the garage. She’d need to find at least three country-club members tonight.
Chapter Cinco
Roberto the Ancient One’s Secret Lair
“Wow, baby. I’m lovin’ this glazed doughnut. Ummm…” Swinging her hips, Cimil took a large bite in front of the camera as she ironed cape number 520.
Sitting on his burgundy velvet love seat just a few feet away, Roberto’s eyes widened into ravenous orbs.
“Oh, you like that, huh?” She smiled. “Or is it this that you like?” She turned to show him the skimpy backside of her shiny pink bikini.
He nodded like a hungry dog.
“Thought so,” she said. “Well, Cimil’s got a big, yummy treat for you, my little, tasty vamp—”
The alarm on Roberto’s watch buzzed.
“Okay,” Cimil said. “That’s a wrap.”
Roberto stared.
“Oh, come on,” she said. “Shut the camera off. We’re done.”
Roberto stared.
“No. We are not having sex on camera.”
Roberto stared.
“Because the last time I did that, the video went viral, and I didn’t even get a damned penny! Now turn that thing off, we have work to do. There are only a few days left before our next big move.”
Roberto sighed and flipped the switch on the camera mounted to a tripod in the corner of the room.
“Hey, watch your language,” Cimil barked. “This YouTube thing was your idea. And I have to admit, a very good one. The others don’t suspect a thing, but seriously? How can anyone believe I could be your prisoner?”
Roberto shrugged his brows.
“Yes, yes. Because you’re brilliant,” she said. “And convincing all the vampires they needed to go to Euro Disney was a stroke of genius. Now the pressure’s really on Ixtab to open that portal. By the way, your ability to forge the dead queen’s hand is phenomenal. What other hidden talents do you have?”
Roberto stood next to the camera and eyed her body like a vampire lollipop.
“Oh, really…? Okay, we can have sex, but I get to be anchor on the trapeze this time.”
Roberto nodded.
“Gods, you rock, though not as much as me.” Cimil snickered and headed for the door. “Turn the iron off, would ya? Don’t want to burn down the place.”
Roberto did as he was told.
Cimil’s cell phone vibrated on the nightstand. “Oh! That must be the incubus!” She picked up the cell and read the text. “Oh, it’s actually our friends, the Maaskab! They say they’ve received my message and agree to the trade.”
She began typing: Fabulous! I’ll meet you at the incubus’s estate as planned. The tablet will be yours. Can’t wait. Hugs. Kisses. Many evil thoughts.
She put the phone down and Roberto grunted.
“Yep!” she replied. “It’s all going like clockwork. Now, where were we? Ah, yes! Let’s swing.”
Chapter Seis
January 5. Two Days Later
Heart pounding, palms sweating, Ixtab cracked open the door of the physicist’s apartment unsure of what she might find.
“Hello? Is anyone here?” The place was supposedly unoccupied at the moment, but with her luck, there’d be some random, hot best friend apartment sitting, waiting to accidentally bump into her.
“Hello?”
No reply.
Ixtab stepped inside and closed the door. What the hell was she doing there? She didn’t really know, but after the four-hour flight, she’d found herself telling the driver to head straight for Helena’s building near Central Park, instead of the hospital to help Mr. Acero. Perhaps she wasn’t ready to see the man who so closely resembled Francisco—the man she once loved. Perhaps a part of her wondered if her demons might chase her for eternity. But perhaps, just perhaps, she’d come to his apartment for another reason all together: hope.
She slid off her veil, draped it on the coat hook, and inspected the living room. Nothing much to see there: gleaming hardwood floors, large flat screen, glass coffee table, and a navy-blue leather couch. Aside from the air being a bit stale and the decorum seriously lacking a woman’s touch, the place was nondescript. And remarkably tidy for a single male.
She passed by a large beveled mirror mounted to the wall and caught her reflection. She looked… awful. No, her overall appearance never changed, not really, but her long, chocolate-brown hair, turquoise eyes, and bronzed skin seemed noticeably duller, as if she’d been soaked in chlorine or left to fade in the sun. Her lack of enthusiasm for life was finally catching up to her.
She’d have to pay a visit to the Goddess of Forgetfulness soon; maybe that would help her to move on. If only I could remember how to find her…
Ixtab went over to the window and pushed it open, stopping to admire the early morning sun climbing up over the cityscape. The air outside was crisp and cold, but even this many stories up, it smelled thick with winter pollution. Funny how after all these decades, the unnatural odors of industrialized man still bothered her. Give her mountains, trees, and sunshine any day over this.
Ixtab wandered into the sparkling clean kitchen also finding it with little personality—gray glass tile, another television, and a glass breakfast table. She tugged open the stainless steel fridge and crinkled her nose at its contents. Yuck. Healthy stuff.
Now that’s where she drew the line with nature. Didn’t he have any junk food?Fruit, yogurt, soy cheese—ick, and… hmmm, okay. Beer. She grabbed one and popped off the top.
Ummm. At least he had good taste in something.
She chugged the rich, creamy contents and dumped the bottle into the stainless steel sink. She wandered down the hallway, also bare of any personal effects—not a painting, photo, or tchotchke to be found in the entire place. She found his bedroom and stood in the doorway, staring longingly at the empty, unmade bed. She imagined Francisco lying there, beckoning her to come to him.
Dammit! You’re being ridiculous. You know this man is not your departed soul mate. Nevertheless, as ludicrous as it might be, she couldn’t help but want proof, anything to cement her squarely in the jaws of reality and smother her ridiculous fantasy that this man might actually be his reincarnation. A second chance…
Ixtab sat down on the bed and ran her hand over the soft, gray, satin pillow. The man’s head had rested there. Would he smell like Francisco? That sweet, spicy, masculine smell she’d become addicted to? That she missed so much?
She lifted the pillow to her nose. “Cheap perfume,” Ixtab growled and threw it down. She pulled open the top nightstand drawer and stared in bewilderment at the pile of condoms inside. “XXL. For the all-night lover?” she said. A whole drawer full of them? Manhooker!
Dammit! Why had she come here instead of going straight to the hospital to get this over with? There was noth
ing in this apartment that would tell her what she didn’t already know: Francisco was dead. She killed him, and he wasn’t coming back. Period. End of story.
Ixtab stood and felt something brush her leg. “Oh, shit!” The large orange cat shrieked and then dove back under the bed.
“Oh no! Kitty.” Ixtab got down on all fours. “Come here, kitty. Come to Ixtaaaab.” The cat’s golden eyes, wide and full of fear, told her the dang critter wasn’t coming anywhere near her. “Dammit, kitty. Why did you touch me? Why?”
Ixtab swiped for the cat, but it was out of reach. Shit. She had to do something fast before the cat choked itself on its own tail or…
The cat bolted from underneath the bed and out into the hall. Ixtab froze. Hell. The window!
Ixtab ran to the living room just in time to see the tail disappear outside.
“No!” She stopped at the sill and looked down, but there was nothing she could do. The cat was gone. And dead. Very dead.
Ixtab slid down onto the floor, gripping the sides of her head. Why? Why? Why? How could she have killed the guy’s cat? No, she didn’t actually pick the poor little creature up and chuck it out the window, but she felt just as responsible. Poor, poor kitty…
Gods she was so fed up with this! So sick and tired of being the bringer of self-imposed death. It wasn’t fair. She didn’t want to kill—well, not unintentionally, anyway. But hell! The Universe had a sick, sick sense of humor.
A small blinking light and a beep from underneath the sofa caught her attention. Sniffling, she crawled over and found a cell phone. It was on its last legs and needed a charge.
One hundred and fifteen messages? She wiped her nose on her black lace sleeve and pressed play. “Antonio, this is Vanessa. Where you been, baby? Call me back.” “I gotta itch tonight, Dr. Acero, wanna scratch it? Call me.” “Meowww, Antonio. Want to play with my puss—”
What the…? I guess he’s not going to miss the damned cat. He’s got backups all ready to go!
As each message played, Ixtab felt the rage build and the fantasy of him being something more than just a Francisco look-alike slip further and further away until it died with a gruesome twitch right then and there. This Antonio Acero was a womanizer, a man whore, and clearly inconsiderate of anyone’s feelings. The messages, which became more and more desperate as the women concluded Antonio would not be calling them back, were a testament to his lack of respect for them or their feelings.