"As you wish." Máax took the tablet-the other had been left behind in 1993-and headed to the conference room in the back of the prison. This time, he would play this out differently. Perhaps save Ashli without revealing his presence. Completely incognito.
Aren't you forgetting something?
Infernum. Yes, he was. He'd have to rethink the plan. He needed to return to the past. Return to her. Which meant if he wasn't careful, he might bump into himself. That couldn't happen. Allowing oneself to overlap, being in the same place at the same time, started a feedback loop similar to reverb on a guitar. It fed off itself, creating a chain reaction of dark, nasty, evil energy that circled the globe, raining down hate and destruction for centuries.
How'd he know? Two words: Cimil and dinosaurs. Oh yes. Humans liked to believe that those giant beasts died when an asteroid crashed to Earth, but nothing could be further from the truth. It was all Cimil. Cimil and her destructive curiosity: "I wonder what it would be like to go back in time and ride a velociraptor?" Apparently, she'd had that thought more than twice and bumped into herself. It wasn't until the gods started to experience violent episodes of seizures, followed by decades of amnesia and sugar cravings, that they realized what Cimil had done. Not only had she wiped out the creatures and drastically altered the future, but she could've destroyed humanity, too.
From that day forward, time travel was banned-no exceptions-and there was a damned good reason for it.
So now what? Not only did a past version of him exist in 1993, the version actually alive at that time, but now there was another version of himself from moments ago.
The ground rumbled violently beneath his feet, causing him to stumble to one side. The dangling overhead lamps swung like a recently vacated trapeze.
Shit … Was this really happening? He scratched his overly scruffy chin. Apparently, it was.
All right. Perhaps if he returned one week earlier than he'd originally encountered Ashli, that would resolve the issue. Yes. That would work. And how hard would it be to ensure they were nowhere near her café on the day of his original visit? He'd figure something out. There's always a solution.
Is there now?
Yes.
Are you so foolish as to believe that your sister, the Goddess of Forgetfulness, can truly make you forget your mate if we manage to survive this?
What's-her-face can make anyone forget anything.
He sighed. He hoped he was right about that. Eternal entombment would be bad enough without having to pine away for some female. It would be too much pain and suffering for any being to bear.
Four
January 25, 1993. Save Ashli. Take Two
A day off! A day off! Ashli stretched in her warm bed, savoring her soft, velvety pink sheets. The morning sunlight sieved through her wispy white curtains. It was heavenly to get up after the sunrise for once. Granted, Mexican winters were pretty nice compared to most places, but the shorter days and rising before dawn took its toll on her spirits.
She rolled over and looked at the clock-8:00 a.m. She reached for her phone on the nightstand and stared at the thing. No, Ashli. You promised. Fernando can handle one day by himself. It's just making coffee, not performing brain surgery.
She blew out a steady breath, knowing how badly she needed this. She hadn't had a day off in over a year, and that day didn't really count. She'd been in bed with the flu and simply hadn't opened the café.
Fortunately, however, her workaholic tendencies had little to do with money. Her parents' insurance had seen to the basics, but keeping that café alive felt like keeping them alive.
She and her parents had come to Tulum for a family vacation when she was eighteen. They lived in Miami for years and the beach had always been a part of their lives-playtime, summertime, exercise time. But her parents instantly fell in love with Tulum's rustic charm and virgin white beaches. Then her parents did the unthinkable. They quit their high-paying jobs as lawyers, moved to Tulum, and opened a café. Café Cielito Lindo or "Beautiful Little Sky." Ashli had gone off to college that year at the University of Michigan to study marketing, but she came for visits every chance she got, and the café became her second home. When she graduated, she planned to spend the summer there, then return to the States where she'd already landed a job in Chicago. That was three years ago. Three long years ago when everything changed in a heartbeat. Her life, her future, everything.
Tulum was her home now. Always would be.
Ashli slipped from bed and pulled back the curtains, gazing appreciatively at the view of the tropical turquoise waves and soft, powdery white sand. No. She'd never leave. Not for anything.
A jog sounds wonderful.
Máax arrived at Ashli's café to inconveniently discover she was off for the day. Seemed many of her regulars were also disappointed by the news. Nearly every godsdamned male who passed through the door asked for her.
Máax stomped out his spark of jealousy. You idiot. You do not want her. Even if you want her. That's the bond speaking.
Máax waited until the young man working the counter went outside to deliver a cappuccino. He slipped behind the register and dug around, quickly finding Ashli's home address on a sheet of emergency contacts, along with her phone number. Bingo.
Máax silently made his way out the door and started down the palm tree – lined, dusty, narrow road that ran for miles along the beach. Yeah, that road. The one where Ashli was to die in about a week. Of course, he would change all that today. Just as soon as he found her. Not that it should be hard. There wasn't much to this tiny beach community except for a few small-
"Ya viene el fin del mundo! Arrepiéntanse ahora! Ya viene el fin del mundo! Arrepiéntanse ahora!" A small, beat-up truck with a megaphone strapped to the roof sped down the dirt road, blaring, "The end of the world is coming. Repent now!"
Thanks, assholes. Like I needed the reminder.
Anyway, where was he? Oh yeah. There wasn't much to the tiny community apart from a few eco-resorts, the kind with huts instead of hotels, and-
"Ya viene el fin del mundo! Arrepiéntanse ahora! Ya viene el fin del mundo! Arrepiéntanse ahora!" The truck had made a U-turn.
"Oh. Come on!" Máax yelled. "I'm on it, okay?" Motherfuckers.
So instead of hotels, there were several small communities of private vacation homes on the beach. How'd he know? Let's just say, he'd been suckered into "helping" Cimil with another one of her little schemes. One that took him to these parts, and one that he now questioned having participated in.
A little too late now.
Máax was almost to the first house along the road when he spotted a young woman with café con leche skin wearing the tiniest pair of shorts and an even tinier little top, running down the beach.
Ashli …
His body began to heat immediately, and it wasn't due to the searing morning sun beating down on his naked body or the balmy tropical air lacking even the slightest breeze. It was her large, plump breasts and small, athletic body. It was her wild, dark hair whipping against her back as her aggressive stride carried her down the shore. He couldn't help but hunger for her. Even if he didn't. But he did. Wait. No, he didn't.
Sonofabitch! Get yourself together, man. You. Do not. Want her. You do not want a mate. There was no reason in the world for him to get sucked into some ridiculous, sappy, tragic love story. Romeo and Juliet. Lancelot and Guinevere. Tristan and Isolde. Those were stories written by fools about fools. Those stories were for humans, weak and driven by impracticality. He was a god. Strong. Defiant. Loyal. And very practical, he might add. Most certainly, he would not allow himself to suffer for an eternity simply because the Universe-cruel-hearted bitch that she was-decided to create an ideal female. One specifically designed to make him feel complete. One that would give him the most euphoric pleasure a male could ever know-
Idiot. You're not helping yourself here.
With Ashli out on a jog, Máax decided this was the perfect opportunity to explore her home. If he were to protect her, he'd have to learn her surroundings, her routine, and he'd need to prevent her from getting in a car, where it would be difficult for him to follow.
He walked along the road until he came across a house with a gated driveway and tall stucco walls. He peered through the bars and spotted her little red car parked on the gravel driveway. A lush, tropical garden obscured most of the Spanish-style bungalow, and impressively tall palm trees shaded the roof. It was a charming, cozy home, but it irritated him to see her in such a modest dwelling. She was his mate. She deserved a grand, modern house with-