Sun God Seeks…Surrogate? Read online

  He continued rubbing her toes and noticed they were painted pink.

  Hmm. What sort of underwear might she have on? Would they match?

  He beheld Penelope’s serene face. She looked stunning lying there with her dark hair fanned out on the floor. And her pink, heart shaped lips…he couldn’t forget their taste or silky texture. He wondered how they might feel if she ran them over the tip of his pulsing, hard—

  “Nick! What do you think you’re doing to that girl? And what the hell happened to your clothes?”

  Helena stood behind him with one fist parked on her hip. Her golden spirals were piled into a ponytail atop her head, and ribbons of black swirled in her bright blue eyes.

  She was pissed.

  And considering she was wife to the most powerful and feared ex-vampire ever to exist—Niccolo DiConti—meant she was one tough cookie. Thank goodness Niccolo and Helena were good friends of his.

  Kinich stood and beamed at his prize, Penelope. “My clothes are resting comfortably back in my hotel room. As for her, I was merely going to bathe her. Then perhaps rub her down with scented oils.”

  “Oh no you won’t. I’m not letting you take advantage of some poor unconscious girl. Not in my house,” she scolded.

  Kinich grumbled. “She is far from being a ‘girl,’ and I was planning to behave like a perfect gentlemen.”

  Sorta.

  Helena wagged her finger. “Uh-uh. Unless she’s written a note specifying you as her official spokesperson or personal bather, you’re not touching her. What the hell happened, anyway? Is she hurt? She’d better not be.”

  “She was attacked, but is uninjured. I thought she could do with some rest so I voiced her. Should wear off in about an hour. Or twenty. I’m not sure; I was a bit distracted.”

  “I don’t like the sound of this. Attacked by whom?”

  Kinich didn’t wish to see Helena’s face when he spoke the words, so he focused on the ceiling instead. “A Maaskab.”

  “Oh shit!” Helena cupped her hands over her mouth and then whispered, “ Maaskab? Here in New York?”

  Kinich nodded.

  “Does Niccolo know?”

  “Not yet,” he replied. “I planned to call after I tend to Penelope, a task I am greatly looking forward to. So if you do not mind—”

  “Oh no no, señor! I’ll take over from here. You go call the General. This minute!”

  Helena grabbed Kinich’s arm and urged him toward the door. “Use the phone in the study. Dial pound three.”

  “But—”

  “Stop acting like someone took your favorite new car, you big baby.”

  But that’s exactly how he felt. He growled, “Okay. But, no biting.”

  “Out! I can handle her myself!”

  About one year ago, Helena, who’d been told by Cimil she was going to die saving Niccolo, cheated death by becoming a vampire. And for an added fun twist, Niccolo had been unknowingly turned from a vampire into a demigod—compliments of Cimil. They now had a baby girl, little Matty, who was half vampire.

  He shook his head. Soon we’re going to need a species scoreboard to keep track of this mess.

  Especially since Cimil seemed to delight in turning people’s lives upside down. Her guise of “Hey! Just keeping the wheels on the universe’s bus,” really meant…I’m so bored! Let me entertain myself by watching some poor souls jump through hoop after hoop, only to find their darkest fears become reality. And if they don’t play nice, I’ll turn them into an insect with irritable bowel syndrome.

  Sure, it was fun to watch when Cimil’s victim was some vile filth and phlegm of humanity—a rapist or thug—but sometimes she went too far to prove a point. It was only a matter of time before the universe invoked another law of balance: karma. Payback would be a substantial bitch for someone like Cimil.

  Helena’s hissing snapped him back from his vengeful thoughts. “Just because you don’t know the meaning of restraint, doesn’t mean I don’t. Besides, I only like nibbling on my hubby, Niccolo.” She licked her lips. “But if you don’t do as I say, I could be persuaded to try a new flavor. You’d be surprised how hungry I get on this new blood-only diet”—she stepped forward parting her lips—“and I bet a full-fledged god tastes pretty damn good.”

  Kinich backed away toward the door. “I am told my blood is very spicy. Fire hot, actually. You would not enjoy it.” He regarded Penelope once again, taking in her beauty. “I leave her in your care, but if a hair on her head is—”

  “You really like her, don’t you?” Helena’s jaw dropped.

  Frankly, he wasn’t sure what he felt. It was all very…foreign.

  “I’m a god,” he replied. “We’re hardwired to care for humans.”

  “Sure. Right. I saw that look.” Helena shut the bedroom door in his face.

  Sulking, Kinich marched into Niccolo’s office and picked up the phone.

  General Niccolo answered immediately, “Hi, my sweet. Are you missing me? Because I’m missing not only you, but those silky, soft thighs, too.”

  Kinich cleared his throat. “Wow. I’m flattered, but I assure you my thighs are neither silky, nor soft. They are, however, firm, muscular, and untouched by male hands. I intend to keep them that way.”

  “Who the fuck is this?” said Niccolo.

  “Nick. And before you say any shit you might regret, your wife made me call you.”

  “What the fuck for?” Niccolo responded.

  “Maaskab attacked my woman,” Nick said, and then rebuked himself instantly. Why the hell had he called Penelope “his woman”?

  “A Maaskab? You sure? Wait…You have a woman? Is the end of the world here already?” Niccolo responded.

  “Fuck you, Vampire. And yes, I’m sure it was a Scab. I don’t make mistakes, unlike you,” Kinich fired back.

  “I’m no longer a vampire, you fuck. And I’d be damned careful with that tone of yours,” Niccolo warned.

  “I’m pissing myself, Demigod.” He chuckled. He loved taunting Niccolo and could normally go on for days, but the situation was serious. “I need to find out why they are after her.”

  “Can’t help. I’m here with your Uchben, training them on the subtle yet exhilarating art of decapitating sifting Scabs and Obscuros.”

  That was the reason he’d wanted to talk to Niccolo in the first place. Normally, Kinich would call on the gods’ human army (and all-around eyes and ears), the Uchben, for this sort of work. But Cimil had recently advised everyone that the kickoff for the Great War grew near. If their side did not win, it would mean the end of civilization as they knew it. The apocalypse.

  “Yes. I’m aware the Uchben are occupied. That’s why I’m calling you. I need you to send someone to track down a Maaskab and bring him to me. I will torture the truth from him.”

  Niccolo made a deep rumbling sound. “What happened to the one that attacked her?”

  “He met with an unfortunate fate.”

  “You cooked him, didn’t you? Fucking gods. Will you ever learn? A prisoner is worth more than revenge.”

  “The Maaskab caught me off guard—I had no choice,” Kinich lied. He knew he’d had a choice, and he’d chosen to cook the motherfucker for attacking Penelope.

  “You could have tried to knock him out,” Niccolo grumbled.

  “You going to help me or not?” Kinich said.

  “I cannot. I am under orders from your brother to have every able warrior preparing for war.”

  “Then I will go myself and catch one,” Kinich stated.

  There was a long pause. “Why?”

  “Why what?” Kinich asked.

  “Why take a risk for this woman?”

  Again, Kinich didn’t actually know why. He simply felt…needs. Lust-driven, obsessive sorts of needs. “That is my business.”

  “I see.” Niccolo replied, followed by another long pause. “He’s going to kill me for saying anything, but lucky you, I enjoy pissing people off. Guy has someone on the inside now. Perhaps his
spy can help.”

  On the inside?

  “Thank you,” Kinich responded dryly.

  “Don’t mention it.”

  “One more thing,” Kinich added.

  “My daily quota for helping useless deities is filled.”

  Kinich ignored Niccolo’s jab—he had more important things to worry about at the moment. Plus, he really liked the bastard. “I need to leave Penelope here for a few days. There are some urgent matters I must address. Your man—Andrus—can he handle her?”

  Niccolo growled. But then again, he growled every time he heard the name Andrus. Andrus had kidnapped Helena once, intending to use her as a bargaining chip to get his hands on the now-deceased, evil vampire queen. To make matters worse, Andrus had also made a play for Helena. It chapped Niccolo’s hide to have Andrus under his roof guarding Helena and his daughter, little Matty. But Cimil had foreseen an attack where Andrus saves their lives. The decision to swallow his pride was a no-brainer. Helena was also madly in love with Niccolo, which helped keep his jealousy in check.

  “Is she going to be trouble? Because I’m guessing if you’ve taken an interest in her, she’s a pain in the neck,” Niccolo said.

  “I haven’t taken an interest. She’s in danger, and I can’t help wanting to protect mortals. But, yes, she’s no pushover.”

  In fact, he found her bravery to be one of her most fascinating traits. She seemed afraid of nothing—not even him. How arousing.

  “I’ll send Viktor to the Penthouse,” said Niccolo. “He is in New York taking care of an issue. I’m sure he’d planned to visit with Helena, anyway.”

  Viktor, a very old vampire, was Niccolo’s right hand and best friend for the last millennium. He’d also been the one to turn Helena, which is why she’d grown quite attached. It was yet another relationship Niccolo had to come to grips with.

  It was truly a goddamned immortal Mexican soap opera.

  “Thank you, this means a lot,” Kinich grumbled.

  Niccolo howled with laughter on the other end of the phone. “Wow. Sun God showing kindness? She must be something if she can make you civilized. Can’t wait to meet her.”

  “Fuck off.” Kinich hung up the phone, irritated about the whole situation. He knew he cared more than he should about the human, but that didn’t mean anything. It was sexual. Nothing he couldn’t handle.

  He would figure out why the Maaskab came for her, get her somewhere safe, and then go back to his life of being a god. After all, they had a war to prepare for, humans to save, and the issue of restoring balance to the universe—starting with putting a stop to the gods breeding with the humans. Although, he could be persuaded to make an exception for bedding them. That part, he again noted, was a diversion worthy of the gods.

  CHAPTER 12

  Vaguely aware of the unfamiliar yet incredibly soft sheets and fluffy-as-a-cloud pillow cradling my head, I rolled over in the bed. Some mysterious force made it nearly impossible to coax my mind from the transcendent state of relaxation, despite the unsavory snippets swirling aimlessly in the back of my mind—monsters with black teeth, garbage, flashes of light, and…

  “Kinich!” I sprang from the bed, trying to gather my wits, my head whipping from side to side.

  The room, decorated in pristine white, reminded me of those high-end European resorts—not that I’d ever been to one, but I had it on my To Do list. Right there along with renewing my passport, taking salsa lessons, and getting a Brazilicide (getting hammered on suicides—a schnapps and vodka drink—before getting a Brazilian bikini wax) my best friend, Anne, recommended.

  I pulled up the thick, cream-colored blinds, shocked to discover I was in a very tall building. The city seemed daunting and glacial with its hazy winter air. The sun was just dipping below the skyline, bathing each and every gray building in an even gloomier gray hue.

  Christ! How long had I been out if the sun was setting? It had been night when Nick…Nick…

  He put me to sleep after voodoo Terminator attacked.

  Son of a…what is going on?

  Waves of dread undulated beneath my skin. Ironically, however, I didn’t feel afraid. No. Quite the opposite. I felt resentful. I felt…like kicking ass and taking names. Because whatever inexplicable bizarreness was occurring—monsters, the strange things I’d witnessed Nick doing, his crazy sister’s psychic handbook—I didn’t appreciate the intrusion in my life. Good or bad, it was my life. Mine. And nobody got to drive the Penelope-mobile except for me. How dare these…people?…Creatures?…Funky beings?…How dare these funky beings get in my car and drive.

  Oh, so you think you can control everything, huh?

  Yes.

  Ha! Good one.

  Shut the hell up!

  A baby crying off in the distance caught my attention. I cracked open the door and found the brightly lit hallway empty.

  I tiptoed in my pink, fluffy socks toward the sound.

  Pink, fluffy socks? I looked down. Oh my God! I was wearing a Hello Kitty nightie. “What the…?” I moved my hands over my various parts and then lifted up my gown.

  Speaking of intrusion…

  “Kitty underwear, too? Damn him! How dare he touch me.”

  And Hello Kitty? Seriously?

  “Anything I can help you with?”

  I spun around to find a shamefully attractive, well-built man with spiky, dark hair and turquoise eyes casually watching me—or, really, watching my bottom half. I gasped and dropped the nightie.

  “Wait! It’s you!” I pointed. “You’re…you’re…”

  He bowed his head. “Andrus. So we meet again, Dorothy.”

  Oh oh oh. This little traveler knew damn well she wasn’t in Kansas anymore. Because Kansas doesn’t have men who hex you with sleeping spells and then dress you like a kindergartner.

  “Where am I? And where is that SOB, Nick?”

  He smiled. “SOB? I see that you and I will get along famously.”

  I narrowed my eyes and tightened my lips, waiting for my answers.

  He cleared his throat. “Come with me.”

  Fuming, I trailed behind him and his leather pants. As we rounded the corner, the wide-open living room came into view. It had floor-to-ceiling windows and the most breathtaking view of Central Park I’d ever seen. A chubby, blond baby sat in the middle of the floor on a large blanket next to a set of multicolored blocks.

  My memory clicked. “That’s the baby you were holding at Cimil’s. Right?”

  He nodded with a glowing smile.

  “Dat sweet wittle baby,” he said in baby talk as he pranced over to her, “is our wittle Matty.” He plucked her off the floor and nibbled her ear. She instantly stopped crying and gave a little giggle.

  Okay. That was weird. The large man appeared deadlier than sin—like he ate bullets for breakfast and drank gasoline martinis—but turned into a mindless ninny for this baby?

  Oh stop! That’s totally adorable, and you know it!

  No! You stop! You’re in deep shit and here you are judging the man’s domestic diva-ness. Enough! Focus, Penelope! Drive the car!

  “So that answers one of my questions. Now, what about Nick?” I crossed my arms over my chest.

  Andrus parked the baby on his hip. “Oh, the gwumpy lady wants to know where dat bastard of your uncle Kinich is,” he said again in baby talk to Matty.

  “Baaa ba,” she cooed happily and latched onto his black tee with her chubby little hands.

  “Yes. Right you are, Matty. It is time for your bottle.” He marched off.

  “Hey! Now where are you going?” I chased after him.

  By the time I caught up in the showroom-like kitchen, he had Matty strapped into a high chair.

  He shot a scowl my way. “I don’t know where Nick is, but he left you here yesterday. You are in my care until he returns.” He glanced at my lower half. “And no. I didn’t bathe and dress you, if that’s what you’re wondering.” His stone-cold expression instantly melted into a dopey grin the moment he
looked at Matty. “Cuz wittle Matty is the only lady I do that for. Isn’t that right, my little cupcake of darkness?”

  Yes, he just called her “cupcake”—I swallowed—“of darkness.”

  I hit the reality-denial button—I had been born with one in my brain—and moved on.

  His head disappeared inside the extra-large stainless steel fridge. “Helena should be awake in a little while. She’ll be able to answer any other questions.”

  “Okay. And this Helena person, whoever that is, will tell me what attacked me? Or how Nick put me to sleep?”

  “Perhaps.”

  “Is Helena your wife?” I asked.

  His head darted out from the fridge, and he gave me a look that could cap a flaming oil well. “No. Helena is Matty’s mother. She is not mine.”

  Ouch! Hit a nerve, did I?

  “Helena is married to Niccolo DiConti. This is their home,” he elaborated.

  My mind sputtered. “Wait. So you’re the…nanny?”

  He slammed the refrigerator door and popped a bottle of red liquid into the microwave. “I prefer bodyguard and caretaker.”

  He’s a manny!

  Or a leather nanny?

  Hee hee hee.

  Stop that!

  I bit the inside of my cheeks to smother a budding smile.

  The microwave beeped. He plucked out the bottle and screwed on a cap before giving it a little shake. The baby held out her hands. He was about to pass it but froze. “If you don’t mind, I need to give Matty her bottle.”

  He didn’t want me to see? Jeez. Maybe he wasn’t as comfortable with his role as he let on.

  “I’ll just go use the phone. If that’s okay.”

  “Help yourself.” He stared, waiting for me to leave.

  I shrugged and returned to the living room where I found a phone off to the corner on a small table. I held it in my hand, staring at the white-and-black buttons.

  What was I going to say to my mother? That I’d been attacked in our apartment by a monster and saved by a man who I may have slept with after being drugged by his lunatic sister who had offered me one million dollars to be the surrogate mother of his child, a child he had no interest in having? And that—here comes the giant cherry on my sucky-sundae—I might now actually be carrying this man’s baby! If we slept together at all, but who knew?