Sun God Seeks...surrogate? (32 page)

“Oh, believe you me! You two did it all right. Here. Let me show you the video.” She reached into the pocket of her dingy black leather pants, pulled out a smart phone, and made a few taps. “See!” She held up the tiny screen.

“You filmed us having sex?” I sprang from the couch.

A coy little smile swept across her face. “What? You two were hot. Really. I mean haaawt. Especially when the midgets showed up. And thank goddess they did.”

No words could ever…
ever!
…describe the horror I felt. There, on the screen, Kinich and I were making out on his couch like wild, horny teenagers. Arms and hands flew in every which direction, tearing away clothes and groping. Then, two tiny men in suits came into view, both held a spritzer bottle.

“What the hell?” Oh the horror! The horror!

Cimil giggled. “Great idea, right? They were exactly the right size to really get in there and put out the flames. You didn’t even know they were there, and I figured Kinich’s first time would be”—she cackled—“on fire! And let me tell you…wow! Was I right.”

Seething with anger I never knew possible, I felt myself heat up. Tiny beads of sweat broke out all over my body. I felt scorching, painful flames flickering beneath the surface. But I didn’t care. I’d kill her! I’d just…kill her!!

I was about to lunge when she held out her hands. “Whoa, whoa there, cowgirl. I don’t have any midgets handy, and I’m not sure bursting into flames is good for the baby or that body. You’re still mortal…for the most part.”

Shit! I took a deep breath and exhaled. A billow of smoke escaped from my mouth.
Great. I’m Puff the Magic Dragon. And a porn star. Who’s pregnant.

Crappity-crap!
“Am I really pregnant? Are you sure? Kinich said I needed to wear that necklace to be able to carry a baby.”

She nodded. “The ring your mother gave you, you’re still wearing it.”

I looked at the silver ring with tiny black stones. “The stones are onyx.”

“No. Jade.”

Wait! Oh my god! How does she know about the ring? It’s gift from my mother.
I stood up. Maybe I couldn’t turn into a fireball, but I could still throw one. “You sold it to her! Didn’t you?”

She smiled and wiggled her digits in the air. “Guilty as charged.”

“Then you did something to it so I couldn’t take it off! Didn’t you? I’m going to kill you! How can you mess with people’s lives like this?”

“You mustn’t take it so personally, Penelope. I merely facilitated that which is meant to be. It’s like being the host of
The Bachelorette
. I merely create the set for the love to happen. And the scandals. And commercials every five minutes that drive everyone insane. But I don’t actually participate in the drama. Yunno what I mean? Besides, you may remove the ring at any time.”

“I can’t. I tried fifty times. Soap, lotion—”

“The ring is bespelled to only come off if you truly wish it. You clearly wanted to have this baby with Kinich, although you may not have admitted it to yourself yet.”

I plopped down on the couch, toying with the ring. Could it be? Could she be telling the truth? But there was no way. In fact, I’d had my…

I covered my mouth.

No. No I hadn’t had my monthly monster for…“I’m three weeks late.” Why hadn’t I realized it?

So much had happened, I guess it slipped my mind.

I suddenly recalled what Andrus had told me that morning outside of Cimil’s home: Cimil was a person who knew what you wanted even before you did. “So this baby was part of your master plan? The one that’s now gone sideways?”

She gripped my hand. “That’s why I don’t understand, Penelope. I did everything right—except for the doomsday
Love Boat
incident.”

I never imagined the words “doomsday” and “
Love Boat
” would be used in the same sentence.

“But aside from that,” she mumbled. “I was steering the cruise ship in the right direction—toward our port of call: love. And toward the gods’ eternal happiness. You must believe me! You must! I don’t know where it all went wrong,” she blubbered uncontrollably.

I almost liked the old Cimil better. At least she was sort of entertaining, in a really twisted and inappropriate way. But Drama-Cimil was kind of sad. Hysterical was not a look she wore well.

She continued, “You were supposed to be the surrogate, the stand-in for Kinich’s power. Kinich got his wish of mortality so he’d finally stop his incessant yapping—‘I want to be mortal, I want to be mortal. Waaaah!’” she whined mockingly. “He needed to learn the grass isn’t greener. And then, when he saw the baby, he would finally believe that Payals were meant to be, paving the way for the rest of us to live happy existences. And once we are all happy…”

She zoned out completely.

I shook her by the shoulders. “What? We what?”

Eyes glossed over, she replied, “I can’t remember. I’m useless without my dead. Especially, Estevan and Gunther. And my unicorn.” She held her hand over her heart and sighed. “I can’t even remember the words to my favorite song, “Pop Goes the Weasel.’” She sprung from the couch and began clapping. “Oh! Oh! But I do remember this one from the Stones!”

Cimil began howling the words to “You Can’t Always Get What You Want.”

“Oh my god. Please stop,” I said pressing my hands over my ears.

She halted her oratory assault. “But it’s so true!” she said. “Sometimes you only get what you need. It’s sort of ironic, isn’t it?”

Not as ironic as finding out I was pregnant. “Why me?”

“How the hell am I supposed to know? I just follow the signs, I don’t make them. Well, I used to follow the signs. Now they’re gone. No more world. Poof!” She sighed. “No more garage sales. No more used picnic baskets, golf clubs, and exercise equipment. Bad times. Bad times.”

“Wow. Yeah. Useless crap. Such a loss for humanity. Especially when compared to…losing humanity.”

Nut bag.

Then a new panic attack hit me. “Wait. Will the baby be all right? I mean, I have Kinich’s powers—will it be safe? And am I even human anymore?”

Her eyes filled with tears. Tears! This was too much.

“You can’t ever go home if you’ve never lived there,” she began to blubber again and sank into the couch.

“No more gibberish. Answer me!”

Her head dropped. “The last thing the Book showed me was a date. The final day. We have eight months.”

There were no words for the despair I felt. There was no point of reference for the darkness that threatened to consume me. This couldn’t be happening.

“Penelope, you are needed. Acan and Camaxtli are strangling each other.”

I looked up at Zac hovering in the doorway. If only I could remember who the hell Acan and Camaxtli were. These Mayan names were a mess. If we didn’t have bigger fish to fry, I’d call a vote to rename everyone with simple, easy names: Bob, Carol…Jenny. We’d keep Belch. Zac, too. Those were good names.

Then I remembered…
Dammit! I need to find Kinich.
I needed to tell him about the baby before he left.

Wait. Think. Do you want him to stay with you because you’re pregnant? Don’t forget, the world is going to end; you don’t have a minute to lose.

I froze in my tracks with that thought. I didn’t want to spend my last days on earth with a man—uuuh—ex-god who didn’t want me. Yes, I loved him, but sulking and crying and withering away wouldn’t save the world. It wouldn’t save me.

It won’t save…my baby.

Oh hell. Am I really pregnant?

Then, and I don’t know how it happened, but it did. I chose. I chose not to crumble. I chose not to let the hurt of rejection or the anger of the crappy hand I’d been dealt pull me under and sink me. I chose to fight. I chose to win or go down trying.

So there it was. I ate the lemons, swallowed them whole, and spit out the seeds.

Well, I’ll be damned. I
was
strong enough.

I looked at Cimil and Zac, “Get ready boys and girls, because there’s a new sun god in town.”

***

Guy was the first to echo the sentiment that most of the gods were thinking. “We fight and attack as planned. Every last one of us.”

“All of us?” Bees, who wore a shades-of-summer camouflage jumpsuit, asked as she petted the hive on her head. The bees purred with delight.

“The Great War is the turning point,” Guy replied. “If we do not win, the apocalypse is inevitable. So we must use every means we can to win. Your bees can assist with monitoring the Maaskab’s movements during the battle.”

The bees made a cheery little buzz.
Such little warriors.

Gabrán, who stood at my side, arms crossed, chimed in, “We should make the final decision when Niccolo arrives.”

“Niccolo answers to me,” Guy barked.

Gabrán frowned like a disapproving parent. “Yes, but he still leads the vampire army and is the de facto king. We must have his support.”

Guy growled. “The vampires will do as they are told or perish with the rest of the mortal world…”

Then rest of the conversation sounded like:

…
Blah blah blah. I’m right and you’re wrong.

Blah. Blah. Am not. You’re wrong.

No, I’m right. Blah blah.

Blah blah…oh yeah? Prove it, blah blah…

I realized that the species was irrelevant; male posturing was universal.

“Both of you…can it!” I barked. “We’re sticking to the protocol, which is…” I looked at Gabrán.

“We list the options, debate the pros and cons of each, and then take a vote,” Gabrán stated with a disappointed sigh.

Very pragmatic. “Thank you.”

“Let’s start with thinking this through.” I glanced around the table. “Options?”

“We stay the course as Guy suggested,” Bees spoke up. “The gods will also fight—except for Cimil, Penelope, and Zac.”

That made sense, Zac said he was strong, but didn’t really have any gifts. I was pregnant—
crappity-crap! Really? Really?—
and Cimil was about as useful as a lump of dog poop.

“Okay, that’s one option. Others?”

“We do nothing,” Suicide suggested in a blasé voice.

I stared at her, wondering if she ever had the urge to apply her skills to herself.

“What?” she shrugged.

I shook my head. “Nothing.” I wrote down
Do Nothing
on my magic tablet, and then looked around the table again, hopeful that someone else might have a better suggestion. “Fate, how come you haven’t said anything?”

She waved her hand through the air. “Because, whatever we choose, this is our fate.”

Wow. Another shocking answer. No wonder the world was about to go down the crapper.

I thought about the tiny life in my belly. It didn’t feel real, but somewhere, buried beneath the layers of raw emotion was a gnawing urge to fight like hell to protect it.

Zac offered, “If the course we are on is the one that leads to the end, then we need to make a turn.”

“This is the problem,” K’ak pointed out, ever so carefully turning his head so as not to cause his enormous, two-foot-high turquoise-encrusted headdress to tip. “Without the book or Cimil’s powers, we do not know which action is truly the one we wish to avoid. What if the turn you suggest is the one we must avoid and the original plan is the one we must follow?”

“I have a coin,” Bees offered. “We could let Chance decide.”

“Chance is on vacation,” Ah-Ciliz, God of Eclipses, said in a dreary voice.

I looked at Zac, who stood by my side like a deadly sentry. “Who is Chance?” I whispered.

He leaned in and spoke quietly in my ear, “A friend of the family.” His warm breath sent a shiver down my spine.

As he pulled away, I couldn’t help but study Zac. His size matched Kinich’s, as did his confidence. His perfectly shaped body, packed with powerful muscles, only appeared fiercer in his black leather pants and dark tee.

“Seriously, you don’t have any powers?” I asked.

God of Seduction, perhaps?
’Cause…wow. I knew Kinich had given me the anti-deity whammy, but nonetheless, this guy still packed a punch. Pretty damned impressive, if you asked me, because I wanted nothing to do with men, and I’d just had my heart trampled.

He smiled. “Like I said, you’ll be the first to know.”

It pleased him that he was inspiring very inappropriate and unwelcome feelings at this time in my life when I was hanging on by a thread.

Interesting.

Belch, who still wore his shiny green running suit, which now boasted several nasty-looking stains down the front, chimed in, “Does anyone have vodka? I need more vodka.”

“Amen to that,” said Suicide.

“You are the biggest group of misfits I’ve ever seen,” I scolded.

Several of the gods looked at each other and nodded in agreement, the only exceptions being Zac and Votan.

Christ. We were all in so much trouble.

I took a deep, calming breath. We were flying blind, so any choice we made could be the exact choice we wanted to avoid. Not easy. So many lives depended on us, on our every move.

I ran my hands over my face. “So our options are to fight or do nothing? That’s it? Can’t we try to negotiate with the Mobscuros”—I decided the time had come to name our evil Reese’s Peanut Butter Cup treat—“or cripple them and buy some time?”

The group debated for a moment and came to the unanimous conclusion that the more time we gave, the worse off we were, and that the Mobscuros were not interested in negotiation.

I closed my eyes. We were missing something. Something big. It didn’t make sense that the Maaskab or Obscuros—Mobscuros—would want to end the world. Give it a yucky, evil makeover? Sure. But destroy it completely?

Regardless, the gods were right; we didn’t have many options: wait, fight, do nothing. The only one that felt right was to take out as many bad guys as possible. If we were going down, we’d go kicking and screaming.

“If no one has any other suggestions, then it’s time to vote. All in favor of initiating the Great War?”

I looked around the table. It was unanimous. Even Suicide raised her hand. Maybe we could send her ahead and then the Mobscuros would be too depressed to fight.