God of Temptation (Immortal Matchmakers, Inc) - Page 10

“What else can I do? And do you honestly think I want to be here, away from my nine children while Roberto struggles to feed, clothe, bathe, and educate them on the ways of being evil all on his own?”

“Yes.”

“And you would be right! It’s exhausting, thankless work. Still, I do miss them.” She sighed. “And I don’t want to spend the rest of my existence in the underworld, not seeing their unnaturally pasty little faces or making Roberto miserable because I enjoy withholding sex until he pampers me to my liking!”

Votan gnashed his white teeth. “I should know better than to try to reason with you. You’re insane!” He plunked down on his cot, sending roaches scattering from under the sticky brown covers.

“Your point, cowboy?”

“My point,” his chest puffed out and fell with a deep sigh, “is that I am tired, Cimil. I simply want to live my life in peace with my beautiful wife and children. I have given; I have fought; I have suffered and paid my dues to this world. And now, it is my turn to live—however long the Universe is willing to allow it.”

Cimil blew out a slow breath, the guilt ticking away like a bug bomb inside her wriggling gut. The truth was she wasn’t happy either. Nothing she ever did was right, and she wasn’t sure how much of her own insanity she could take.

Sure, some days were utterly delightful, like when she used her goddess gifts to hunt down treasures at garage sales. One can never have too many Thigh Masters. Or bingo nights with the bacon trolls and Bigfoot. But lately, those days of leisurely bliss were few and far between.

“Can’t you see, brother, I am trying to make everything right. But I can’t control all the variables or the Universe. I can only tug and pull on the strings available to me, and those strings are always wiggling, always connected to consequences. Sometimes the strings are ten thousand pieces of yarn, and each must be woven into a colorful tapestry depicting squirrels with backpacks sitting around a campfire, roasting marshmallows. It’s not easy to see the squirrels through the trees! And it’s not easy deciding which disaster is better than another.”

Votan groaned with trepidation. “Have you ever considered just stopping? Stop meddling. Stop trying to change our fates. Stop injecting your insanity into everyone’s lives.”

“Why would I do that?” It was her purpose. Create chaos. Resolve chaos. Repeat.

“It is the only lever you haven’t pulled, Cimil.”

He had a point. “But what if I do nothing and the world is eaten by an enormous reptile in a tracksuit? What then, huh?”

Votan stood again and took her hand, speaking in a restrained voice. “Then it does, sister. But it is time. We must let go. The age of gods is over. We’ve all known this for some time.”

He was right again. The gods were never meant to be permanent fixtures in this world. More like training wheels. Eventually, humans would have to decide their own fates. The gods would fade off into the sunset and become nothing more than folklore, legends, and made-up stories from the past. It was already happening. China and India were once strongholds with their plentiful varieties of gods and love of edible offerings, but now half the world no longer believed in the gods. Millions more each day were choosing to worship at the altar of the iPhone instead of making pilgrimages to Cimil’s temples to revel in her awesomeness or offer up their virgin daughters. Seriously, people just don’t know how to prioritize anymore.

“I understand.” Cimil groaned frustratedly. “And I know you are right about letting go, but what about our children? If I stop meddling, who will protect them or ensure they have a comfy, cozy world to come home to each night?”

“They make their own fates. And we will let them because it is meant to be that way—the natural order of life.”

Ugh… Cimil needed to clear her head and think. Is this truly the end for us? If it was, it meant letting things lie, allowing humans to decide their own fortunes. No attempting to bring immortal life back to Earth. No more godly intervention.

It does sound kind of nice. Live quietly with my family. And then…one day, she would simply allow herself to fade away and rejoin the Universe’s big ball of cosmic energy—the place she came from. Home.

“Fine. You win, Mr. McMuscles. I will attempt to find a way out of here so we can reunite with our families, but the gods must make one last rescue, reach out one last time with a glorious helping hand!”

“For?” Votan arched a thick black brow.

“We must stop the demon king from taking over, and seal him back in his realm.” One last intervention. One last deific hurrah. And then retirement.

Tags: Mimi Jean Pamfiloff Vampires
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