Accidentally...Over?(45)

"What is she talking about?" Ashli stared at Cimil as did everyone else.

"I have no idea," Máax said. "Cimil, please tell us this isn't another one of your stupid jokes."

"Uh-uh. I'm serious as a stripper on a pole."

Everyone in the room grumbled.

"You're trying to tell us," Máax said, "that each of us has gone to hell  and back, through months of torment and battles, sacrifices and worry,  only to find out that this was the pivotal moment?"

Cimil grinned. "Sure. Why not?"

Groans and boos erupted in the ballroom.

Máax looked like he might actually take her head. "You knew this was the  answer the entire time, didn't you? And you lied about Ashli. You were  playing me."

Cimil grinned. "You'll never know. But you had the time of your life, and don't even try denying it!"

More boos filled the room, and party snacks flew at Cimil's head.

She ducked and dodged. "What? Derailing an apocalypse is like an orgasm  or finding a garage sale. You don't argue when they happen! You just  say, ‘Thank you.' Or you say"-she looked directly at Ashli and winked-"  ‘Thank you, Ashli.' "

Was Cimil serious? Putting a stop to that spat had been Ashli's big moment? It all just seemed so …  trivial.                       
       
           



       

Ashli looked up at Máax. "Is it really over? Just like that?"

"I believe so." Máax nodded cautiously. "However, after all of the drama  and angst, it feels like we're missing a big bloody battle or a near  miss with an A-bomb."

"Nope. I'm good. Drama and angst are completely overrated." She was  about to tell Máax about her vision, but decided it wasn't important.

"Well, I suppose there's always next apocalypse," Máax said.

Ashli blinked. "How often do they happen?"

"Often enough, according to Cimil. But we don't usually cut it so close," he replied.

"Oh, goody. And I'm immortal so I get to do it again."

Immoooortal. Immoooortal. Nope. Still doesn't feel real.

"Hey. Put 'er there, Ash!" A blonde woman dressed as a referee angel held out her fist.

"Do I know you?" Ashli asked.

"Nope. This is just a random, congratulatory fist bump." She wiggled her fist, urging Ashli to take part.

"Uh. Okay." Ashli obliged, and the woman grinned, then disappeared into the crowd.

"That was weird. I could swear I've met her before," Ashli said to Máax who simply shrugged.

"This calls for drinks," slurred Belch.

The crowd buzzed with jubilation, everyone exchanging hugs and high  fives. Except for Cimil-Ashli caught a glimpse of her being carried away  by her vampire. They were mauling each other's lips.

"Cimil?" Máax's deep voice boomed across the room. "Where the hell do you think you're going? I'm not done with you."

"Neither am I." One of Máax's brothers, a really, really big man with  long blue-black hair and shoulders the width of a tank, stepped forward.  If looks could kill.

Her vampire set her down and then stepped in front of her. "Back off, Votan. I've got five hundred vampires here."

Votan, who was about as tall as Máax, was the sort of deity that made a  person tremble just looking at him. "I've got ten thousand Uchben on  base, two minutes from here."

Oh no. They were all going to fight again? This is too much!

"I have an army of fifty thousand who can sift here in one second," the  vampire replied, his dark eyes flickering with lethal rage.

"Dammit." Ashli threw down her giant glass. "Enough! Can't we just have a  moment of happiness? Just one? I thought I'd sentenced the entire  planet to death. Then some icky monster tried to marry me shotgun style  and wanted to eat my legs for the honeymoon. So if you all don't mind,  I'd like to party now. No fighting. No negativity. Just party. Can we do  that for one night? Please?"

There was a collective mumble of agreement.

"All right, then." Máax cleared his throat. "Everyone, Ashli is correct.  We should celebrate. And as for Cimil, I'm sure she is aware that she  will have to answer for her crimes and does not plan to run. Isn't that  right, Cimil?"

Cimil nodded from behind her large man. "Yep! I'll be there with amazabells on." She snorted. "Get it? Amazabells!"

No one laughed.

Cimil shrugged. "Yes. I'll bring Zac. And don't forget yourself, Máax and Chaam. Ya'll got warrants out, too!"

"What?" Ashli looked at Máax.

Máax grumbled something under his breath. "I will report to prison in  the morning. In the meantime, I suggest we all do as my mate has asked.  It is time to celebrate. The apocalypse is over. Brutus, get this Scab  out of here. Belch, get back to the bar. And you, I forget your name,  start the music."





Nineteen





"Shall we?" Máax held out his hand to Ashli, hoping and praying she  might accept. He knew that he had no right to hope for her forgiveness  after everything he'd done, but that did not mean he didn't want it,  need it. And now, more than ever, he wished he could travel back in time  and somehow make things right with her. No, you fool, you did the right  thing. And the proof is standing here before you.

Yes. Ashli was alive. Alive and safe. The apocalypse was over. It was  everything he could ever hope for, and if he ended up entombed for an  eternity for repeatedly breaking the gods' sacred laws, then so be it.  It was a small price to pay for the woman he loved.                       
       
           



       

Ashli stared at his hand, her turquoise eyes flickering with conflict.

"Please?" he said. "Just give me this one evening, and then I promise to leave you be." Forever.

"What's with the warrant-"

"One evening," Máax insisted. "A few hours of your time, and then I am  out of your life for good." He said the words, and while part of him  meant them, he knew a much larger piece of him would go insane without  her.

"You really mean it?" she asked.

Was that disappointment flickering in her eyes or disbelief?

"Tomorrow I will be imprisoned for my many crimes. And while I'd like to  believe my brethren will take mercy on me, I am doubtful. Punishment is  mandatory when our laws are broken, regardless of the reason."

"Oh." Ashli looked down at her feet. "How long will you be put away?"

He was tempted to lie and protect her feelings, but that did not feel  like the right course of action. "Oh, you know, forever. But let us  dance first. Then we may talk all you like."

She hesitated. "I can't handle being around you, Máax. The things you did-"

"You are the one who called a temporary truce among us all this evening, were you not?"

She nodded and pasted on a smile. "Okay."

She slid her hand into his, and he immediately felt that sensation he  could not fully articulate with simple words. Her touch felt like being  home. It made him feel complete and loved and grateful. It made him  acutely aware that he never wanted to let her go.

He dipped his head and kissed the top of her hand, enjoying the feel of  her supple skin on his lips, before he led her toward the dance floor in  the corner of the giant ballroom. With his overly sensitive hearing,  his ears plucked out the whisper from the crowd. The Uchben and  vampires, his brethren and their mates, everyone said the same thing:  "He's going to be entombed for eternity. It doesn't seem fair."

No, it was not. But who said life was fair?



Dancing with Máax had been a mistake, and Ashli knew it the moment that  she took his hand. Her entire body lit up like a naughty lighthouse. And  through her torment of wildly mixed emotions, a profound clarity broke  through the haze: she still wanted him.

Yes, even after he'd lied to her. Or acted like an arrogant,  supercharged Cro-Mag who thought he could get his way simply by  speaking.

But when he touched her, she couldn't help feeling something for him. That something was everything. Stupid jerk!

Had she meant that for him or for herself?

She didn't know, but when he took her in his arms and began moving her  body against him to the sultry rhythm of the music-some sort of sexy,  modern mix with a melodic voice and a hint of a country twang-well, she  couldn't help but melt.

"What is this music?" she asked.

Máax continued moving, holding her close. "Not sure. But my sister, the  Goddess of Forgetfulness, is DJing tonight. Always makes it difficult to  determine the song."

"You're joking, right?" She looked at the statuesque woman standing in  the glass DJ booth with her long golden hair in pigtail braids, wearing a  pair of white go-go boots and metallic-silver micromini with matching  top. A young guy with a blue faux hawk, wearing a Club M-Brace T-shirt,  stood at her side.