Sun God Seeks...surrogate? (20 page)

I had to tell him. I had to. There was no way I could hold this in any longer.

I took a deep breath. “I have to say something, and I can only hope you’ll do right with this information.”

He nodded. “Go on.”

“My mother was taken by the Maaskab, and Viktor went after her.”

Gabrán rubbed his chin. “Is that so?”

“Yes. He said something to Kinich about having visions of her for five hundred years. He begged Kinich to give him two days to find her and bring her back before alerting the other gods.”

A long silence followed, then he said, “We ought to tell the General and Votan.”

“You mean Niccolo and Guy?” I couldn’t keep all of these names straight.

“Ay. But first, did he tell you anything else? Anything that might prove helpful tae me and my men?”

“He thinks my mother was a Payal.”

He raised his brows and puckered his lips. “That would explain why the Scabs might be after ya mother and you. But nae what they’ve done to our here Sun God.”

“We have to help him!” I pleaded.

“Ay,” Gabrán replied sympathetically, “but I have a sneakin’ suspicion that only those nasty priests are knowin’ the cure.”

I felt my blood boil.
The Maaskab
. Who knew I’d ever be capable of such profound hate. But there it was. I hated them. Profoundly.

I felt my face turn an even brighter red and my body heat up like a lobster in a pot. Smoke rose from my shoulders.

I jumped. “Ouch! Son of a bitch!” I swatted the smoldering fabric of my clothes. “What the hell?”

Gabrán watched me with pure amazement. “Did ya just catch yerself on fire, lass?”

I stood there panting. “Yep. I guess I did.”

Then I passed out.

CHAPTER 22

“Penelope. My name is Emma Keane. Can you hear me?” I felt a gentle pat on my arm. “I think she’s waking up,” the female voice whispered.

When my eyes cracked open, they encountered a redheaded woman, about my age, standing next to Gabrán.

Then, one of the largest men I’d ever seen in my life, dressed in dark gray cargo pants and a snug black T-shirt, stormed into the room. His midnight black hair, streaked with indigo blue, hung past his broad shoulders. His angry eyes, a fierce, iridescent turquoise green very similar to Kinich’s, were nothing shy of scary. He even smelled scary, like smoke. Maybe he could give me deodorant tips, since I was now spontaneously catching on fire.

“Tell me what happened,” he ordered me.

The young woman elbowed him. “Let’s help her off the floor and explain who we are before barking commands, honey.”

He grunted and shot a look at Gabrán, who then help me onto the couch in the corner of the room.

“I am Guy Santiago, Kinich’s brother. This is my fiancée, Emma.”

I nodded, knowing exactly who they were. This was the god who was going to marry the Payal.

I made a sad, little, wave-like gesture. “Penelope.”

Gabrán spoke up immediately and began retelling the story of the Maaskab and Kinich, leaving the part about my spontaneous combustion until the end.

Emma turned to me. “What were you thinking about the moment it happened?”

I blinked.

Okay, maybe this was like being at the doctor. As embarrassing as it might feel, I had to answer the question openly and hope the experts would know what to do with the information. “If you must know, I’d been thinking about how badly I wanted to sleep with Kinich.”

There was a low, stifled chuckle from Guy and Gabrán.

“He’s a total hotty, that’s for sure.” Emma cracked a smile.

“What?” Guy said. “You have desires for my brother?”

Emma patted him on the cheek. “Baby, that was a little joke. Get it, ‘hotty.’ He’s the Sun God?” Guy kept glaring. “Oh, you’re so cute when you’re jealous,” she said. “Or, is it scary? I’m not sure. But in any case, you know that no one stacks up to you.”

Her exaggerated reassurance seemed to placate the beast of a man.

“Sorry, Penelope,” Emma said, “I meant, what were you thinking about the moment you felt your body heat up?”

Oh. That.
“About the monsters who took my mother and attacked Kinich—can we talk about that later?” I was not ready to face the truth about what was going on with me personally. There were much, much bigger issues at play.

And yes. Denying reality was a gift. So sue me.

I glanced at Kinich’s immobile body. “Do you know what’s wrong with him? How to help him?”

Guy ignored my questions. “Bastards. I’ll kill every last one of them.”

“Stop,” Emma warned. “Let’s leave the revenge until later.”

“I can’t help myself.” Guy began pacing. “The Maaskab have obviously been honing their weapons against us. Look at him. Kinich is completely useless to us like this.”

Then they both stared at me as if they expected me to say or do something.

“What? Aren’t you going to help him?” I asked.

“The thing is,” Emma explained, “we don’t know what to do. The Uchben have already searched their databases, and we’ve checked with the other gods—”

“Except Cimil,” Guy interrupted.

“Yes. Except Cimil, who’s MIA,” Emma added.

“Has something happened to her?” I asked. Half of me hoped the answer was yes. I knew revenge was a four-letter word, and I should rise above the desire to see her suffer, but…Come! On! The woman so deserved a little pain. Like being thrown in a pit of angry vipers. Or perhaps shoved in a rocket filled with vile, tiny, green men who had horrible flatulence, then shot off into space where she would be forced to watch them pick their noses and scratch themselves all day long.

On second thought, Cimil might enjoy that.

“Cimil has a nasty habit of disappearing when she’s needed most,” Guy stated coldly.

Emma nodded. “I’m sure she’s fine. But Kinich”—she regarded him with sadness—“The only idea we’ve come up with is to…um…”

The three exchanged glances. “What?” I asked.

Guy spoke up, “Kill him. So his light is returned to the cenote.”

“Are you people—deities—or…partial deities—whatever—crazy? You can’t do that,” I argued.

“Exactly,” Guy said. “We are immortal. He cannot be killed.”

I moved between Guy and Kinich. “You said you have no idea what’s the matter with him. What if you’re wrong?”

Gabrán chimed in, “The girl has a point.”

Without warning, Emma—who stood near the foot of the bed—whipped out a large Buck knife from the waistband of her pink yoga pants—
Christ!
—and made a small cut across the top of Kinich’s exposed foot.

I shrieked at the sight of blood pooling in the gash. “Why did you do that?”

She ignored my question and stared at Kinich’s wound. After a moment, the blood dribbled to the tile floor. She shook her head.

“Tis nae healing,” Gabrán declared. “The girl is right. Whatever the Maaskab have done to the man, may have changed the rules.”

“You keep assuming I’m part of your club and get what the hell you’re talking about.” I felt seriously panicked and was not giving a crappity-crap if I offended anyone at this point.

“A god would heal in seconds from a cut that size,” Gabrán explained. “’Tis possible he’s been changed somehow.”

“Which means?” I asked.

Guy answered, “We will have to keep searching for a way to undo this dark magic.”

“How long will that take?”

“Anywhere from a few weeks to a few decades, if we are lucky.”

***

After everyone left Kinich’s room in a heated debate, I slumped down on the bed next to him.

“Dammit, Kinich.” I brushed his caramel locks back from his forehead. “What’s happened to you? What’s happened to me?” He was freezing, and I was boiling like a lobster.

I plopped my head down on his chest. “Where are you?”

“Right here. Why are you crying?” Kinich suddenly sat up as if he’d had the most refreshing nap ever.

His surreal, turquoise eyes stared back at me with a twinkle, and his lips were pursed with a sneaky little grin.

“Kinich!” I yelped and threw myself on him. “You’re awake! Oh my God!” I couldn’t help but cry again—this time with the utmost relief.

I buried my face in his chest. It was warm again. Oh so warm.

His hand stroked the back of my head, following the length of my hair. “Sssh. Sssh. Do not cry, Penelope. Everything is fine.”

He peeled me off his chest. “No more crying. Please.” He wiped the tears from beneath my eyes.

I sniffled and gave him a nod. “What happened to you?” I mumbled.

He shrugged casually. “Nothing. I feel great.”

“You’ve been in a coma for over a day. I thought you were dead.”

His brows pulled together. “Dead? I am a god. We can’t die—as much as I wish otherwise.”

I cupped my hand over his mouth. “Don’t ever say that. I thought I’d lost you…I thought…”

Wow. Was I really going to let that tiny door inside my heart open up and allow those buried emotions to be said out loud?

Activate reality-denial button?
My inner voice chimed in.

No. Not this time.

Kinich stared at me, his eyes filled with intense emotion. “Yes? You thought you’d lost me, and what?”

I couldn’t say the words just yet, but I could show him how I felt.
I need you. I want you. I might break into a million pieces if you don’t feel the same.

I leaned forward and kissed him.

His reaction was immediate. It was raw. It was what I’d hoped for.

He flipped me on my back, pinning me beneath him, kissing me hard, kissing me like he meant to fill me with his own avalanche of emotions.

His heavy frame instantly shifted, shaping to my hungry body. His knees slid between mine and parted my thighs. I exhaled sharply when I felt his hardness prodding me in just the right spot.

A groan left his lips while his tongue slid in and out of my mouth with an erotic pumping rhythm.

My fingertips moved through his silky strands of hair and then traveled down the sides of his face to his neck and arms, savoring every muscle—packed with heat, power, and steely hardness. His body turned into hot twisting barbs of steel, intent on caging me. His erection thrust against me, and the heat of him on my most sensitive skin almost sent me over the edge.

“Oh God. Yes. Yes,” I panted.

His hot tongue and velvety, plump lips moved down my neck, their sensuous texture deliciously followed by the roughness of his unshaven jaw.

Kinich pulled up my T-shirt and palmed my breast before he placed his mouth over my sensitive nipple and began sucking. Gentle at first, then hard.

“I love your breasts,” he said with a breath, talking directly to my puckered, and now red, pebble. “I want to do very dirty things to them.”

Oh. Sun God is a breast man!

“But, not before I do this.” He flipped me over like a hotcake on a griddle and straddled me below my backside. I felt his large hands cupping both fleshy mounds. “These, I have missed. Your ass should have a pyramid built in its honor.”

Could he arrange that?

“Shouldn’t I get two? One for each side?”

He tugged down my jeans, leaving my thong panties in place.

“Yes. They are gorgeous,” he said with a gravelly voice, and began lavishing a long, hot, wet kiss on my right cheek.

His sizzling tongue felt so silky, like warm chocolate being drizzled over my skin.

He suddenly flipped me once again, startling my breath away.

Like a man on a mission, he made no production out of removing my panties or tearing off his own T-shirt and drawstring pants.

He crawled up the bed and lay over me, briskly separating my legs. “I want you, Penelope. I want to be inside you and hear you moan my name like I’ve dreamt about.”

I loved that he’d had those dreams, too. I loved that I was the only woman he’d “perhaps” ever been with.

I responded to him with a hard kiss and felt him slide his hand between us, positioning his thick shaft at my entrance.

He wrapped my leg around him and began pushing into me.

“Wait! The necklace. Don’t I need the…?” A searing heat pulsed through me.

I exhaled sharply and looked up to discover Emma swatting me with a towel. “Christ, Penelope! You’re on fire!”

I sprang from the bed, peeled my smoldering shirt from my body, and whipped it to the tile floor. I stomped out the flame.

“Wow,” Emma said. “That must’ve been one smokin’ dream you were having.” She laughed.

Dream?

My mind spun in dizzying circles. I swiveled my head toward Kinich, only to find him lying there like a lifeless sack of dirt.

Shit. Another goddamn dream.

My heart sank and tears of disappointment welled in my eyes. I was never a crier, but I’d let ’em rip more times in two days than I had in my entire life.

“Oh no! Penelope. Don’t cry.” Emma’s bright green eyes filled with worry. She leaned over and grabbed my hand, pulling me up from the bed.

“I know what you need.”

“A cold shower?” I asked.

“Better.”

CHAPTER 23

“Where are we going?” I asked.

Emma led me by the hand down the hallway through the living room. Her springy red curls bounced as she trotted eagerly to our destination. Although she was several inches shorter than me, and wearing a girly floral blouse and capri jeans, I felt somewhat intimidated. Her petite size felt like an illusion that masked something dangerous and powerful.

“So. Kinich told me you’re a…Payal?” I asked hesitantly.

Emma smirked and flashed a smile over her shoulder, but didn’t answer. She led me through the enormous modern kitchen out to the garage, a garage unlike any I’d ever seen. It was a madman’s luxury car showroom, complete with bar—
how many bars does one home need?
—living room, polished cement floors, recessed lighting that lovingly bathed each vehicle—six NASCAR-worthy convertibles, one silver hardtop, and a rather large-looking red Jeep with extra-large tires—and a variety of pristine cupboards and racks to house tools.