GOD OF TEMPTATION by Mimi Jean Pamfiloff

Author:Mimi Jean Pamfiloff [Pamfiloff, Mimi Jean]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, romance
Publisher: Mimi Boutique, a Paper & Silver, Inc. Imprint
Published: 2021-06-25T18:30:00+00:00

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

“Okay, buckaroo, don’t say I’ve never done anything for you.” Cimil punched the sleeping giant’s shoulder.

Reclined on his cot, Votan sat up, and his eyes popped open. “What the hell, Cimil?” He rubbed the spot.

“The hell is that I found us an out.”

“You did? Where?”

Votan was not going to like this. “There.” She pointed to a ball of dust on her cot.

“What’s that?”

“Our way out.” Had she not just said that? Give a thirsty man a glass of water and, suddenly, he’s Mr. Questions!

“A ball of lint?” He shot an angry look at her. “What were you smoking while I slept?”

“That, genius, is a dust fairy. You know, the ones who sprinkle dust all over your house, cousin of the dust bunny?”

Votan stared.

“Surely you’ve heard of dust.” Cimil threw her arms in the air.

“Yes…”

“Haven’t you ever noticed how you can clean a table and ten minutes later the dust is back?”

“You’re asking the God of Death and War a question related to cleaning?”

“Okay, fine. Stupid question. But the dust fairies play an important role in annoying humans while also keeping them healthy. Just like the BO fairy. They’re like an alarm. Time to bathe!”

Votan stared coldly with his turquoise eyes. “I am now one hundred percent certain that you have lost your marbles, the box the marbles came in, and the marble factory where marbles are produced. That is how few marbles are in your possession.”

“Thank you. May we escape now?”

“Cimil, I am beyond the point of patience lost, so cease with these games at once. This clump of fibers cannot get us out of here.”

How was it possible that he, the God of Death, War, Multiplication, Drums, and a few other mundanities, had no ability to see the brilliant solution she just laid out?

“Dust fairies, you moron, break things down into tiny particles and move them.” Cimil raised a brow. “Now you get it?”

A slow smile crept over Votan’s lips. “Godsdammit, I really can’t stand you. But no one can deny your madness is genius on occasion.”

Cimil buffed her fingernails on the front of her pink leotard and took a bow. “I take payment in Slinkies or coffee tables covered in Wonder Woman decoupage.” Cimil turned to Gloria, the dust fairy. “I’m sorry you can’t come with us. But I promise I’ll do my best to free you and your people as soon as this demon takeover has been thwarted. In the meantime, you’re safer here.”

Cimil listened to the teeny-tiny high-pitched screech. “Gloria, of course.”

“What is she saying?” Votan asked.

“She wants us to promise to get Bo out of here first.”

“A BO fairy?”

Cimil rolled her eyes. “Bo is her beau, a sunshine fairy. Duh.” How else could dust fairies be seen? Dust needed sunlight. Sunlight needed dust. Without each other, they couldn’t reach their full potential.

“Duh indeed.” Votan, God of Death and War, looked like he wanted to make some death happen in her general direction.

“Let’s roll, Gloria. Make me into tiny pieces.” From there, Cimil could float out of this cell, find the other deities, and bring everyone to the portal.

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