Accidentally...Over?(8)

"Sonofabitch!" the deep voice screamed. "Where the hell did I leave her keys?"

Her body was suddenly on the gravel next to her car. The rocks were warm  on her back and bare calves. Was she imagining all this? There was no  one there. No one at all.

She watched a large rock float from the edge of her driveway and smash into her car window. The driver's side door flew open.

She must be losing her mind, she thought as she blacked out completely.





Five





"You have got to be joking Máax!" Cimil barked. "That was, what, fifteen seconds?"

Roberto removed his hands from Cimil's waist. "It was twelve seconds. Twelve. What exactly is your brother's problem?"

Cimil sighed. "Please don't tell me she died again. 'Cause this time, I  might not laugh, and then where would you be? Huh? It would be just  plain sad without my laughter."

Máax pressed his palms to his temples and paced the floor in front of  Cimil's cell. "I left her alone for two minutes!" He didn't think that a  few fucking minutes would be a problem, but the moment he'd seen her  strip off her clothes-those perfectly shaped golden-brown breasts and  rosy nipples; the firm, smooth ass; and lean, long legs-well, he'd never  seen a more delicious woman. He'd nearly given himself away when he  turned and knocked her perfume bottle clear across the counter with his  erection. Christ, he'd thought, I can't very well spend the day like  this, bumping my cock into everything. After all, he wore no clothes.  (What was the point? So humans could watch them miraculously float  through the air?) So as soon as Ashli had left the bathroom, he decided  he'd take care of business. Two minutes tops, he was ready to go off  like a bolt of lightning. But before he knew it, he'd heard a strange  sound coming from Ashli's living room.

"What was it this time?" Roberto asked with a bored tone. "Did she fall off a cliff, trying to escape you?"                       
       
           



       

"No. A fucking bee. I gave her medicine, but it was too late. She never  woke up." If only he hadn't had to waste time smashing the window, he  probably could have saved her. Where the hell had he left her car keys?

"Dammit, Cimil," Máax groaned. "What aren't you telling me about this  woman?" He could swear the Universe wanted to snub her out, which  seriously pissed him off. Ashli belonged to him in theory, and it was  his job to protect her. His.

Then there was the tiny detail of the Universe trying to take something  that theoretically belonged to him. Not that he wanted Ashli. But  nevertheless, where the hell did that bitch of a Universe get off trying  to take something that belonged to him? Not that he would keep Ashli.  Because he was a god. And didn't need a mate. Especially when his  destiny was carved in stone, because he was a man of honor and would  never betray one of his brethren only to save himself. Even though they  should never have put him in such a position to begin with. Not that he  cared. He was tough. Tougher than all of them. Usually.

Cimil shrugged. "There's not much to tell. Ashli dies-I can't tell you  how, because I don't really know-and if you save her, she saves us all.  Our pathway to peace. Wow!" She elbowed Roberto. "I sound like a poet."

"Your voice"-Roberto gripped her chin and applied a long, wet kiss-"is always like poetry to me."

The two began to maul each other again, tearing away their clothing.

Oh, sweet gods, make them stop! "Eh-hem. I hate to interrupt, but I cannot save a woman who is destined to die."

Without detaching her lips, Cimil shooed Máax away.

"Cimil! In your own words, the clock is ticking! You must tell me what you know," he demanded.

"She's destined to live! Now go! You're a deity. Figure it out!"

Máax groused profanities under his breath and returned to the conference  room. What the hell was going on? Something strange, that was certain.

And how many times could he return to her and risk bumping into himself?  Máax had always been cautious, never chancing overlaps, and careful not  to alter the future in any detrimental way. But this was really pushing  it.

He took a deep breath.

Options. Think options. Okay. She seemed to be accident-prone. So  perhaps he could take her somewhere safe, somewhere with  around-the-clock security. And medical supplies. And no traffic. Or  bees. Hmmm …  that might work.

He could have the Uchben watch over her business and home. But dammit,  how would he convince her to go anywhere with him? He terrified her.

Dammit. Why was this getting so complicated?

Getting?

He gave it another moment of thought, scratching the whiskers on his  chin. I will go back another week earlier-prior to her latest death. I  will stay close to her, guard her at every moment, and learn more about  her. Then, the night before she is to die from the bee sting, I will  reveal myself and take her away.

But this time, he'd stay close, and never leave her for a moment.



January 18, 1993. Save Ashli. Take Three

Wearing her favorite yellow ducky pajamas, sipping a hot cup of coffee,  Ashli stared at the calendar pinned to her kitchen wall. It had a photo  of a chocolate lab puppy with a bow around its neck, sitting inside a  basket. She'd always wanted a dog, but her hours at the café would leave  the poor animal home alone all day.

Well, maybe after things settle into a quieter routine. Which is exactly what she hoped for.

Lately, she'd been feeling the effects of years of stressful living.  Long workdays, not enough sleep, and little exercise were finally  catching up, and she knew it. It was definitely time for a change, and  she'd already taken the first step by hiring Fernando, but it wasn't  enough. That feeling, the sensation of dread, was growing stronger with  each passing day. Has to be the stress. I need a day off.

Then there were the dreams. Vivid, disturbing, wild dreams. Some were of  a faceless man and too erotic to admit she had. Then there were the  ones of death hunting her, watching her. She'd been stung by a bee, hit  by a bus, slipped on a banana peel-the list went on and on. Each time  she'd wake up right at the point of dying, covered in sweat, the dream  having felt so real that her body throbbed with pain and tingled with  adrenaline.                       
       
           



       

Maybe it was time to start seeing that therapist again to address her  lingering guilt; she'd never quite come to terms with being the only one  who'd survived the accident. Yes, she thanked heaven or the universe or  whomever had been watching over her that day for letting her live, but  that didn't mean she was without baggage. And working fourteen-hour  days, seven days a week wasn't helping.

There. It was decided: once Fernando got the hang of things, she would  cut down her hours. Who knew, maybe she'd take up photography again.  Until then, however, it was business as usual.

She glanced at her watch. "Oh no." She needed to open the café in ten  minutes. She scrambled to her bedroom, stripped off her pj's, and threw  on a pink tee, jean shorts, and her favorite little leather belt with  the pink flowers. She slipped on her sandals and dashed to the bathroom.

When she flipped on the light, she immediately noticed the bags under  her eyes. The bloodshot whites made their greenish-hazel color look more  like sad, drab army green.

"You'll get through this," she said to herself and began brushing her teeth.

A flitter of motion moving down the hall caught her attention. She jumped. Holy shit.

Toothbrush in hand, she slowly peered out through the bathroom doorway. "He-he-hello?"

A burst of wind gushed through the house. Crap. She hadn't left any doors or windows open. Someone was inside.

Ohmygod. Find a weapon.

She looked at the toothbrush in her hand. What are you going to do with  that? Give the intruder minty breath? She threw it into the sink and  slid open a small drawer in her vanity, where she kept a pair of  stainless steel scissors.

Hand violently trembling, she made her way down the hall toward the living room. "I have a …  knife! So you'd better run."

Is that the best you can do? Really?

"Fast," she added.

Dork.

She repeated the phrase in Spanish for good measure anyway.

She glanced around the corner and quickly peeked at the living room and  entryway. Her front door creaked as a gentle breeze nudged it completely  open.

Strange. Her purse remained on the small hand-carved wooden bench in the  entryway. Why would someone break in but leave her purse? Her car keys  were right there, too.

Oh no. Whoever was inside the house didn't want her valuables. So then what could they possibly be after?

She gasped. I better get the hell out of here! She bolted to the door,  grabbing her keys and purse. She ran to her car and got inside, but when  she tried the engine, nothing happened.