CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Margarita lined up for the bathroom, wondering what the hell she was doing at this stupid unicorn club on a date with a god. This wasn’t going to work out. It couldn’t. She and Acan were two different people—or beings or whatever—and their worlds didn’t mesh.
“You must be her,” said a female voice from behind her.
Margarita turned to find a statuesque blonde wearing a pink minidress, with long legs, creamy skin, and iridescent turquoise eyes.
“Oh shit.” Margarita covered her mouth. “Yo-won-o-dem!”
The blonde raised a brow. “I speak one hundred and seventy-seven languages, but sadly mumble is not one of them.”
Margarita dropped her hand. “Sorry. It’s just…” She leaned in. “You’re one of them, aren’t you?” The eyes were exactly like Acan’s.
“Very astute. I am the Goddess of Forgetfulness, Belch’s sister.”
Acan’s sister and she continued talking about how her brother behaved like two different men, but that he still had a lot of maturing to do. It seriously gave Margarita second thoughts about their future. Perhaps all that was required to make them work was a little patience and an open mind.
Then the goddess told her she had two minutes to make a choice or face getting a memory whammy.
Margarita gasped. “You’re serious, aren’t you?”
“As a heart attack,” said Acan’s sister.
Shit. Margarita turned and sprinted back toward Acan’s bar, finding it completely empty save the line of patient customers on the other side. Oh no. Oh no. Where is he? Margarita swiveled on her heel, her eyes searching frantically. Nothing.
“Hi there.” A tall, well-built man, with long honey brown hair and the same brilliant turquoise eyes as Acan, stepped out of the crowd and stood in front of her. He had a fierceness in his gaze that immediately set off alarm bells.
She took a step back. “Who are you?”
“My name is Máax, and I want you to listen very carefully, Margarita. You are to read this letter quickly, turn around, and head straight for the front door.” He shoved a folded-up piece of paper at her.
“I don’t understa—”
“Hurry, woman. Time is running out. Take it.”
She grabbed the thing from his hand.
“Don’t think. Just do. Jessica needs you,” he said.
Her heart sank to her shaking knees. What was happening? She unfolded the letter and quickly scanned the handwritten note, the flashing lights of the club making it difficult to read, but not impossible.
What the hell? She looked up and the man was gone. She spun on her heel, but there was no sign of him. She stood there for a moment, feeling her stomach knot into a ball of terror. She then turned and sprinted for the front door, pushing people out of her way.
Just a few feet from the exit a solid wall of go-go pink stopped her.
“Sorry, babe,” said Acan’s sister, “but your five minutes are up.” She reached for Margarita’s shoulders, but Margarita stepped away.
“Back the fuck off.” She shoved the note at her. “And get the hell out of my way.”
The woman’s eyes darted from Margarita’s face to the note and back again. “What is that?”
“A warning. From you.” Margarita dropped the note at the woman’s feet, stepped around her, and left the club.
The next morning, Acan came to on the floor of his new living room, with a train wreck inside his pounding skull.
“Gods fuck me.” He sat up, pressing his palms to the sides of his head, and noticed two warm bodies next to him. A brunette and a blonde. Naked. All three of them.
“What the…?” He jostled the brunette’s shoulder. “Who are you? What are you doing in my house? Where the fuck is Margarita?”
The woman rolled the other way, giving him her back—or butt cheeks. “Who’s Margarita?” she mumbled.
“She is my…mate.” He whispered that last word, feeling an ache in his heart as he recalled Margarita standing behind the bar with him last night. She’d just served a drink to a woman with pink braids, and there was this moment when he looked at Margarita, thinking, This could work between us. This could really work. But then he’d explained to her that he could not stop being the party god, and the hope and joy vanished from her eyes. How could she have not understood that? Why couldn’t she simply accept him as he was and let their relationship take its natural course? Either way, he knew she was going to end the night walking away. From him. From them. She then made an excuse to go to the bathroom. From there, it was all a blank.
He glanced over at the two sleeping women and then down at his stomach. Flat. Perfect. So I did not drink, but I cannot remember anything? Oh hell. He must’ve flipped last night. Losing Margarita had set him off. This can’t be good.
Panicked, he shook the brunette. “Hey. What happened last night? Did we fuck?”
No response.
He tweaked her bare butt cheek.
“Ow!” She opened her brown eyes.
“What did we do last night?”
The woman scrubbed her face with her hands. “You made us drinks and we watched Love Boat reruns. You said it was some special kind of sleepover.”
“So we didn’t have sex?” he asked.
“No.”
He felt instant relief, though he wasn’t exactly sure why. That being said, “Then why are we naked?”
The woman pointed to the other side of the room, where a Twister mat lay spread across the floor.
So I turned evil, made them watch Love Boat reruns, and we played naked Twister. “Jesus, I’m becoming Cimil.” Gods, I hope that is the worst of last evening.
Fear struck him hard. The last time he’d blacked out, he’d succumbed to the evil inside him and then decapitated his brothers and sisters.
He quickly dialed Forgetty, but it went to voicemail. Fuck. What happened last night?
He grabbed his car keys and drove straight for the club. One hour later he arrived and parked in the back alley. He ran inside to find Forgetty behind his bar, cleaning up.
“Oh, thank gods.” He let out a sigh. “Why the fuck weren’t you answering your phone?”
She looked at him only for a moment. “Sorry. Must’ve left it on vibrate.”
“No. It’s fine. I just thought I’d maybe hurt you again or something.” He rubbed his brow. “I blacked out again last night.”
“Yeah. I know.”
“But I didn’t remove anyone’s heads or anything, correct?”
“Nope. You were just a rude bastard, which is why I kicked you out,” she said, her voice indifferent.
“And Margarita?”
“She, uhhh…left.” Forgetty began drying off the clean glasses and putting them under the counter.
“But she’s all right?”
“Alive and kicking,” Forgetty said.
“So it’s over, then. She has rejected me.”
“I honestly don’t know, Acan.” She didn’t sound happy. Was she worried that he would give up?
“Sister, do not concern yourself. I am going through with the party tonight. I will find a woman. I am sure of it.”
Forgetty smiled at him, but her usual spark of light was missing from her eyes. “I hope you do, brother.”
“Is something the matter?”
“I have to take a break for a while. I’m leaving town in a few hours.”
“You are going on vacation?”
“Yes. A vacation.”
“Now? Why now? I understood you were to assist me this evening at the mixer.”
“You’ll be fine without me. We have five bartenders lined up, and I pulled the DJ from our other club in San Diego.”
Her odd behavior did not sit well with him. “Are you certain that nothing has happened?”
“Yup. Hunky dory. I just need a few days off to decompress. I might go visit a few old friends.”
Something was definitely bothering her, because she would never leave at such a difficult time. Especially when New Year’s was so close. That said, if she did not want to discuss it, he would not push. She had her reasons to keep to herself.
“Very well, enjoy your rest. I will see you when you come back?”
She shrugged. “Sure.”
He sensed she was lying, but he had to let it go. He had to focus on tonight, on clearing his heart and mind of Margarita. It wasn’t what he wanted, but she’d rejected him last night, and his duty was to his brethren and to the people who would be harmed if he didn’t halt his transformation. He had no choice but to move on. It was the right thing to do. The only thing to do.
“See you later, sister.” He turned to head back out to his car.
“Brother?”
“Yes?”
“Don’t forget to wear pants tonight.”
He glanced down. Dammit. Again?
He smiled awkwardly. “I will not forget. But the shirt is staying off. Can’t let these abs go to waste. The fate of the world lies in the balance.”
Forgetty bobbed her head. “Guess it can’t hurt. Break a leg.”
“Thank you.” He got to his car, feeling like things were off. Very, very off. But why?
It is something I will have to figure out later. Because tonight, he and his rock-hard abs needed to attract the perfect woman. Yes, we will save the world. He patted his stomach.