EPILOGUE
“Well, that was a beautiful beach wedding. I especially liked all of the little lights in the shape of wine bottles over the archway.” Cimil sighed, sitting next to Roberto inside their custom-made stretch Volvo, waiting for the car ahead to clear Acan’s driveway so they could unload. The children—gods bless their spunky evil little souls! So delightful—played “put out the cigarette” toward the back of the car, while their “guest” whimpered in agony.
“You know, my love,” said Roberto, straightening his bowtie, looking extra delicious with his milk-chocolaty skin and dark eyes, “I think it’s okay to let the children have their fun, but perhaps we can leave your victims at home on family fun night.”
Cimil shrugged and gave the front of her strapless green dress a tug. “Sure, baby. Whatever makes you happy. I just thought we needed to keep the kids occupied while we bring in the New Year.”
Roberto sighed with contentment. “Another year.”
“Yep. One more year.” Cimil turned her head and gazed out the window, hoping Roberto would not see the truth in her eyes. Somehow, he always knew. But this was one secret he could never learn. Not ever. Because nothing was as it seemed. Then again, when was it ever?
“Any news about Zac?” he asked.
Cimil shook her head. She’d had lots of news, mostly from all of the pissed-off dead people Zac had created, but she’d come up empty-handed in the premonition department. “Nothing that will help us capture him, which truly fucks with the old piñata.” She pointed to her head. “It’s like he’s ten steps ahead of me, which is impossible. I’m the master of the ten-steps-ahead program. Yanno? What if he outsteps me and finds her?”
Roberto patted her leg. “Do not worry, my love. Zac will never find Tula.”
Cimil hoped that was the case because Tula was special. She didn’t know exactly how or why yet, but the dead never lied. Unless they were the bad dead, in which case they lied about everything, so all one needed to do was take the opposite of what they said. Still, very black and white.
“Let’s not think about it tonight,” she said. “Acan’s powers are about to hit max velocity and I want to get a front-row seat. It’s a total rush.”
“Agreed. I will take out your brother Votan. He always wants to hog Belch on New Year’s.”
Their stretch Volvo pulled up to the front of the palatial home, and the valet opened the door. “Good evening. Welcome. If you’re part of the wedding reception, please take the walkway to the right for photos. If you are here for the New Year’s celebration, please go straight inside and deposit any matches or lighters in the bowl. Acan and Margarita are requesting there be no fires of any sort this evening.”
“What? No matches?” Cimil barked. “What kind of party is this?”
“Do not worry,” said Roberto, patting his groin. “I have all of the fire you will need tonight.”
“Oh gods, you so float my Love Boat.” Cimil jumped on top of him and began kissing him wildly.
“Uh, ma’am?” said the valet. “Everyone’s waiting, and there are children present.”
Not breaking from ravishing her hubby, Cimil waved him off. “Kids, out of the car! And take your toy with you.”
“Two minutes to midnight on the East Coast.” Acan took Margarita’s hand as they stood in the middle of their large living room decorated with silver streamers and balloons, filled with his closest friends and his family. Margarita’s daughter, her purple panty friends, and quite a few celebrities from her gym had come, too. Mostly men. Grrr…He hadn’t known that Margarita had such a fan club, but it wasn’t a surprise. She was really hot.
As for Forgetty, she still hadn’t returned, but he knew she would when she felt ready. They were like peas and carrots.
Only now I have butter, too. He beamed down at Margarita. It was strange to have someone in your life and learn that they were the missing ingredient all along. Now that he had her, he felt content, and while he still loved doing his job, he enjoyed being alert and conscious while he did it.
He’d even passed on making tonight one of their official party nights. It was their wedding night, after all, and he didn’t want to miss a thing.
Acan bent down and gave Margarita a kiss on her soft lips. She looked stunning with her golden hair in soft waves falling down her back and her little white reception dress that showed off her athletic body and awesome tits. He patted himself on the back. I snagged a hotty. The hottest MILF on the planet. And if he had his way, he was going to have her around forever. There was always hope that she’d warm up to the immortal idea.
“So tell me again why your powers spike at midnight East Coast time?” Margarita asked.
“I’m not exactly sure.”
“Well, I’ve been feeling your energy rising all day.” She gave him a wink.
He had fucked her about five times this morning. Then he made love to her, nice and slow, three more times. Still, it hadn’t been enough according to her. She said it felt like her entire body just wanted to party, and since she didn’t drink, that meant she wanted her favorite vice: him.
“Are you ready?” He smiled, feeling his body thrumming with energy while their guests increased in rowdiness, laughing and cheering.
“Oh, I love it when you say that. Something good always happens right after,” she replied.
The guests began the countdown and so did Acan. “Ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three…”
Boom. Party time!
Margarita turned to him, her green eyes wide. “Holy crap. That’s awesome!” She ran for the bar in the corner, plucked a bottle of champagne from one of the buckets, and poured it over her head. The guests roared with “Woohoos!”
With a giant grin, Acan simply stood there staring as Margarita bathed herself in bubbly, howling, “Party! Party! Party!”
“Well, well, well.” He folded his arms over his chest. “I think I found my party queen after all.”
Zac hated the fucking ocean. He hated the salty air, he hated the movement and those stupid birds that kept following behind them, looking for a handout, and he especially hated fucking boats.
“Can’t this piece of shit move any faster?” he growled at the captain and chucked his bottle of whisky over the side from the top deck where they sat.
“Sorry, sir. This is as fast as she goes.”
“Fucking hunk of junk.”
“Ye-yes, sir. It is a hunk of ju-junk. Would you care for another bottle? There are plenty in the bar.”
The bar? Where all of those dead bodies lay in a heap, just where he’d left them? “You go. I hate the sight of blood. Makes me queasy.”
The captain and owner of this luxury vessel, an older gentleman with a long gray beard, looked like he might wet himself. “I would be delighted to get you a beverage. Are you able to steer?”
“No. But if we crash, who gives a shit? You’re the only one who will die.”
“Uh-huh, very good, sir.” The man scurried off, and Zac walked around to the railing. “Like we’re going to hit anything in the middle of the godsdamned fucking ocea…” His eyes caught a glimmer of light reflecting in the darkness, high above what appeared to be open water. He looked again, hoping his eyes weren’t playing tricks. Another shimmer of light from the front of the boat bounced off something ahead.
“Ha. There you are, you motherfucking island.” He smiled sadistically and yelled over his shoulder, “Hey! Captain, get your ass back up here!” Zac looked back out across the dark ocean. “Think you can hide Tula from me, Cimil?” he whispered. “Think fucking again.”
There was no corner of this Earth safe from him. Not even El Corazón Island.
Zac pulled out a long machete from his waistband and thumbed the blade to check the sharpness. “Gods, I fucking hate mermen. This is going to be so fun.”
TO BE CONTINUED (Muahaha…)