"I've been better. Thanks. So is he here?"
He continued smiling. "Who?"
"Fernando." What was this guy on?
"Which one? There are five Fernandos," the young man said.
"Five? Five?" She thought about it for a moment. Fernando would be twenty years older now so that would make him … "Well, this Fernando is about thirty-nine. He's worked here for twenty years, maybe?" If he still worked there, that was.
The man grimaced. "You're serious?"
Ashli felt the blood drain from her face into her toes. "Yeah. Why?"
"Señor Fernando died ten years ago," he said apologetically. "In a hurricane. His five sons inherited the café."
Shit. "What? Dead?" And he'd named his five sons after himself? Okay, that was just weird. And slightly narcissistic. But still, poor, poor Fernando. "Are you sure?"
The young man nodded.
Oh no. This was all her fault. Had she stayed around, he would have gone on to be a teacher like he'd planned.
No. Either way, you wouldn't have been there. Had she stayed, she would have died.
Ashli placed her hand over her heart. "Dead. He's dead." She looked at the young man. "You're sure?" she asked again.
"Yes. I'm sorry."
Ashli bolted for the back door toward the beach. She started running, her tears streaking across her face. It was all gone. Everything and everyone.
I made a mistake coming here. A big one.
Fifteen
Máax paced across the tiled living room floor. He'd desperately wanted to follow Ashli, but he'd already pushed things too far. Not only had he lied about the prophecy-and it was only a matter of time before she found out-but he'd also withheld his true intentions: to make her immortal. It was just as good as a lie in his book. And if he followed her now, she'd think him a complete chauvinistic bastard. He couldn't have that. Not when their days together were now numbered. Although, he supposed, they always were. He'd broken so many sacred laws, now including making Ashli immortal without the gods' permission and traveling back to his realm from which he was banished-no regrets, of course-that he'd probably be sentenced to entombment for two eternities. Maybe three. His only means to change that fate would be for the gods to modify their laws regarding mandatory punishment. But that required something nearly impossible: a unanimous vote.
Not likely. The gods never agreed unanimously on anything.
You could always blackmail your brethren. He scowled at himself for merely entertaining the thought. The kind of secrets he kept were the sort that could destroy a person, or deity in this case. And he would never betray an oath or hurt his family simply to save his own skin. The mere thought was repugnant. No. He'd known the fate he'd accepted when he'd broken their most sacred laws. He wouldn't try to wiggle out of it at someone else's expense. That's not the sort of man he was.
Of course, if they didn't stop the apocalypse, none of that really mattered.
Infernum. He sighed. There was no hope of him having a future with Ashli, was there? Well, at least Ashli was out of immediate danger.
"Máax. Where the devil's turd are you?" a deep, familiar male voice called out from the direction of Ashli's kitchen.
Ah, hell. Máax prayed it wasn't who he thought because he'd hoped to have a few days with Ashli, at least.
Máax silently tiptoed closer for a look.
Fucking fantastic. It was Niccolo DiConti, General of the Vampire Army, and two of his biker-looking vampire soldiers.
Of course, what did he expect? The Uchben knew Máax had arrived at Ashli's house with Ashli, which meant everyone knew everything. There were no secrets among the Uchben.
"I know he's here," one of them whispered. "I can smell his overbloated ego."
"Coming from a vampire," Máax said, "I find that remark marginally amusing."
A devious smile flickered over Niccolo's lips. "Ah, Máax. If it isn't my favorite invisible deity." Niccolo's European accent tinged his comment with natural sarcasm. "Don't you look well."
"That joke is as saggy as your thousand-year-old Italian ass. By the way, Cimil's favorite flea market just called and would like you to return their Armani knockoff."
"This is Hugo Boss. My wife says his suits make my ass look centuries younger. Do you really think it looks old?" Niccolo turned, lifted his blazer, and showed Máax the back of his pants.
Oh, gods. He was serious. "What do you want, vampire?" Máax asked.
Niccolo's long dark hair pulled into a ponytail contrasted with his luminescent eyes. Eyes that flickered between apple green and aquamarine like a godsdamned happy meter. Did he have to be so pleased about coming to take Máax away?
"You know very well I'm no longer a vampire; however, it's no skin off my unfanged teeth if you prefer to call me that. I happen to like vampires very much."
The story of how Niccolo ceased to be a vampire was a very, very long one-involved Cimil, say no more-but his wife and coruler, Helena, was a new vampire.
"I repeat, what do you want?" But Máax already suspected the miserable truth.
Niccolo straightened his black tie and then gave his two men a knowing nod that sent them outside. "You and I both know why I'm here; the gods, your brethren and my allies, are calling for your immediate incarceration. And from what I understand, you have a lot of explaining to do."
"I'll explain myself when I'm good and ready, Niccolo. In the meantime, tell my brothers and sisters to … " Oh, what is that expression Cimil uses? Ah! " … Suck it."
Niccolo laughed. "I love these modern phrases. Suck it. Circle twerk. Ear boner. Carpe noctem."
Máax cocked one brow, not that Niccolo noticed. "I see you've been spending excessive amounts of time on UrbanDictionary.com." It was also one of his brethren's favorite places to learn new human phrases.
"Life as an immortal"-Niccolo shrugged-"it's a journey."
"I'm glad you see it that way because I'm going to tell you to fuck off." Máax needed to sort things out with Ashli. Hell, if he was lucky, they might even make up. He'd heard that making up produced the best sex.
Niccolo sighed. "I am taking you, Máax. And the girl. Deal with those apples."
Máax shook his head. Niccolo's use of colloquialisms was always a bit off. Why did he insist on trying to be cool?
Never mind that, man. Think. What are your options? He could take Ashli and run, but his brethren would eventually find him; the gods' connections allowed them to sense each other's presence unless they took measures to block it. Obviously, Máax had no powers so he'd more or less be a sitting duck.
He could fight Niccolo and the vampires, but without his powers, he could not stop the vampires from sifting Ashli or himself away. Basically, it was a no-win situation. That said, he did like the idea of cracking a few skulls.
A fight it is.
Máax punched Niccolo squarely in the jaw, and he went flying across the kitchen, smashing into the cupboards.
Niccolo quickly picked himself off the floor. "Oww. What the hell did you hit me for?" He rubbed his jaw and pouted. Yes, pouted. But in a manly ex-vampire sort of way.
"Like I said," Máax explained cooly, "you're not taking us. Tell my brethren I will come and answer for my actions when I'm ready."
Niccolo's two vampires sifted into the room, hissing for a fight.
"No!" Niccolo held up his hand. "This is between us two duds. Wait outside."
"Dudes. It's dudes," Máax said.
"Whatevers." Niccolo flew toward him, fist cocked, but Máax sidestepped. Niccolo crashed right into the kitchen table. Máax laughed, thinking it would take the large man a moment to rebound, but Niccolo zeroed right in on the sound of Máax's voice and pounced.
Máax fell to the floor and a fist landed right on his cheekbone. His vision twinkled with tiny little stars.
"Son of a bitch." Máax threw Niccolo off and sprang up. Niccolo, too, popped up off the floor and stood with fists ready for action.
Panting, Niccolo said, "I understand your position, Máax; however, I cannot neglect the fact that I have a mate and a daughter who will both cease to exist if the apocalypse isn't derailed. So the sooner you come with me, the sooner we can all figure this out."