Accidentally...Over?(38)

Máax had had enough. "Cimil, so help me-"

"I already know what you are going to ask; a dead little birdy told me.  Can we stop the apocalypse? No. Well, maybe. I don't know. According to  my last vision, Ashli is in present day and in her forties when she  stops the apocalypse, meaning she did not jump through the portal to get  here."

"Okay. Fine. Ashli is immortal now. So what do we do?" Máax asked.

"Hello! I told you not to introduce any additional variables because  then we wouldn't know what to do. Voilà! Here we are. As clueless as a  teenage girl on prom night!"

"It doesn't make any sense," he grumbled. Cimil said that Ashli needed  to live out her life normally. But he was certain, dead certain, that  Ashli would not have survived.

"Hmmm." Cimil jostled her head from side to side. "Yes, perhaps my snark  was outdated. According to a very reliable source, Vampire Diaries, the  females of this day and age are quite experienced by the time they get  to prom." She began tapping the side of her mouth. "Hmmm …  I need a new  snark. Clueless as a unicorn in a skateboard shop-"

"Cimil. Focus. Are you certain about what you saw in your vision?  Because I promise, Ashli would not have lived another day had I not  interfered," he said.

"Yes, I told you Ashli was not twentysomething in my vision. She was  much, much older." Cimil sighed with fake sympathy. "But none of that  matters now. You've brought her here. You made her immortal. You altered  everything. And, yes! Before you ask, we are still on a path of  destruction. That's the one thing I know for sure. Oh! And here comes. … "

The structure shook with staggering turbulence for four long seconds. The steel beams inside the walls groaned and creaked.

"Number nine," Cimil said to the now deathly silent room of immortals.

"Son of a bitch." Máax scratched the thick growth of whiskers on his jaw. "There has to be another way to fix everything."

Cimil stood and began playing with her cell phone. "Your guess is as good as mine, except on Fridays-"

"Cimil, can you not be serious, even for a moment?" he grumbled. "Especially given the situation?"

"Nope." Cimil shoved the phone down the front of her shorts.

"What in gods' name are you doing, Cimil?" Máax scowled.

"Yes, what are you doing?" Roberto asked.

"I'm taking a selfie of my privates. It's called a privie. Here, want to see?" She held up the phone.

"No!" Máax turned away. "What the hell is wrong with you?"

"Mmmm … " Roberto groaned lightly. "I like."

"Put the phone away, or I will come in there and beat you with it." Máax was truly close to losing it.

"There! All gone!" She returned her phone to her pants and held up her  empty hands. "So, where were we?" Cimil once again glanced over her  shoulder toward the empty corner of her cell. "No one asked you, crazy  coolots!"

Impossible. She is impossible.

"Cimil, what if we sent Ashli back?" Not that he would allow that, but it was an answer he needed to know.

Her index finger shot up. "Ah! Now, there's an interesting idea. Would  the Universe accept Ashli as an offering? A tragedy for our triumph. A  yin for a yang. Let me think that through. You've fallen in love with  her so if she were to die," Cimil mumbled to herself, "it would be a  true romantic tragedy, old-school style. Like big Romeo and Little J."  Cimil tapped the side of her face. "Little J was Gossip Girl, wasn't  she? Sorry, I meant J.Lo."                       
       
           



       

"That is not what I meant," Máax said.

"Oh, good." Cimil snorted. "I was gonna say …  I mean, what kind of  asshole would suggest sacrificing his mate like that?" Cimil shrugged.  "Not sure what will happen if you take her back."

"Has anyone ever told you that you're the worst prophet the world has ever known?"

Cimil rolled her eyes. "The world is not over yet so there's still time  for me to come in second." Her cell phone began to squawk like an irate  chicken. "Hold that thought." She held up her index finger and dug down  into the front of her shorts. She pressed the talk button and held it to  her ear. "Yo."

Disgusting, he thought, knowing where that phone had just been.

Cimil turned her back and began pacing the length of her tiny cell.  "Uh-huh. Uh-huh. Corner office, huh? With a view of downtown LA?" Pause.  "Oh. And underground parking? And day care one block away? I'll take  it!" She turned, shoved the phone back down her pants, and sighed  happily. "So! Where were we?"

"Nowhere," Máax groaned.

"Ah yes! Nowhere is precisely where you are. So may I suggest that you  focus on feeling grateful for what you've got instead of not. What else  is there to do now? And look at the bright side. At least this way,  you're not going on trial. You're free to live until doomsday. Unless we  magically find a way out of this, in which case you and I are  completely hosed. Because we've been naughty." She smiled and stared at  the floor. "Really, really naughty. Yessss. I should be punished. Gods, I  love being me." She froze for several moments, convulsed, and then  picked up her paddleball from her bed. "Which is why I'm going to enjoy  whatever time we have left."

"No. You're going to help me fix this mess and stop the end."

"Nope," Cimil replied. "I'm going to throw a giant party. We're going  out with a bang. And lots of banging! It's going to be fornication  fabulous."

"You can't be serious," he said.

"Do you have any idea how many times I've gone through this doomsday  hullabaloo? Any at all? Six thousand seven hundred and two. I steer us  clear of one disaster only to find we're on a collision course with  another. It's apocalyptic Whac-A-Mole. I'm pooped! It's time to say  thank you to the Universe and celebrate the lives we've had. And hump  like feral lemurs. 'Cause I like to move it, move it."

"Of course we can hump like strange little animals"-Roberto appeared  next to Máax-"if that is your wish, my little apocalyptic lollipop. But  you do not mean the part about giving up. You love saving the world from  the brink of extinction. It is your favorite pastime aside from garage  sale hunting."

"Yah. Not so much. Gettin' old. In fact, I'm officially retiring as of  this moment." She sat down on her cot and began typing into her phone.  "Look. See! I tweeted it, and that makes it official!" She held up her  phone. "Now for the party announcement."

"You're not leaving that cell, Cimil. Because we are not giving up,"  Máax said sternly. "Not on this world. Not on Ashli. And there certainly  won't be any parties."

Cimil tilted her head, raised her cell phone, and tapped the screen.  "Not according to the almighty tweet. The party's on, baby. On!"

"Over my dead, invisible body."

"All those in favor of giving up on this futile effort to stop the  apocalypse and enjoy the time we have left, raise their hands!" she  screamed.

"I don't give a shit about your voting." Máax looked around the prison.  Everyone had their hands up, exceptions being those with mates. "No.  Uh-uh. No one leaves here until we figure out a solution." Máax was  losing his patience.

"Let us out! Let us out! Let us out!" The chant started with Cimil but  quickly spread to Máax's other brethren. The entire underground prison  shook beneath his feet as a hurricane began to rage inside of his sister  Ixtab's cell (she involuntarily created bad weather when upset). Her  mate, Antonio, pressed himself into the corner of the cell, attempting  to calm her down to no avail. The rest of the deities screamed or  pounded away on the thick glass. Meanwhile, fifty or so vampires and  Uchben scrambled, preparing for some sort of offensive.                       
       
           



       

"Tell them to back down, Cimil! This instant! Or no more Minky visits!" Roberto roared.

"You wouldn't dare!" she yelled back. " 'Cause I'll take away your  Cimi-treats! Forever!" Cimil turned, bent over, and began shaking her  rear. "No more for you, Roberto!"

"Cimil. Stop this instant!" Máax knocked loudly on the glass.

"Ain't gonna happen!" Cimil popped up and began clapping rhythmically. "Party. Party. Party."

Unbelievable.