King for a Day (12 page)

King sighed. “I concede that I underestimated Vaughn’s ferocity. My ego sometimes blinds me.”

“Ha.” I chuckled. “That’s because it’s so damned huge.”

King shot me a look. “I thought you were through judging me.”

Yes. That’s what I’d been thinking about in the car to the airport after leaving Miranda’s.
And, of course, made-up King would know that because he’s a product of my imagination.

“I’m not judging,” I argued. “I’m stating the obvious; there’s a difference. Saying you have a big ego is like saying you have beautiful eyes.”

“You think my eyes are beautiful?”

I began twirling the diamond ring on my finger. “Yeah. Most of you is pretty gorgeous. But I’ll try not to hold it against you. Especially the part about you living on champagne and cigars.”

His eyes flashed to the ring. “Do you like it?”

I made a noncommittal shrug. “Why did you give it to me?” I asked.

“Why do you think?”

“King? Can you answer the question?”

King leaned down, placing his hands on the armrests on either side of my lap, and kissed me. His lips were hot and sensual. His tongue was soft and warm. At first, I didn’t kiss him back. It felt strange allowing this fantasy to go in such an intimate direction, but as his sensual mouth moved over mine, I still melted for him as I had every other time he’d kissed me.

King slowly pulled back and gazed into my eyes. Made up or not, he was still sinfully handsome, especially those pale gray eyes.

I sighed. “If only the real King were this sweet.”

“Maybe he is after you get to know him.”

I laughed. “King is many things, but sweet is not one of them.”

“Right you are. And yet another reason you should run, Miss Turner.”

“You sound like Mack, but I’m not running, so drop it.”

King made a little nod. “Very well, then. But just remember what Mack told you, Mia. I will never share you. I will never trade you. I will never leave you. You are mine, and I will not let you go.”

Those words felt like a ton of bricks, filled with lust and adrenaline and fear, dropped on my head. The thought of him wanting me in such an absolute manner felt terrifying, yet at the same time, sparked a deep, dark satisfaction.

I took several moments to catch my breath and clear my throat. “You’ll have to. Because my saving you doesn’t mean I accept being yours.”

“Accept being whose?” asked a deep voice.

I glanced at the large man standing in the cockpit doorway, then towards King, who had disappeared and couldn’t be seen by Arno anyway.

Because you’re crazy and talking to yourself.
“I’m crazy and talking to myself.”

“Very good,” Arno said in that unusual accent and then dipped his head. “We will be landing shortly.”

“Thanks.” He turned to leave. “By the way, where are you from, exactly, Arno?”

“I am from the island of Crete. Same as King.” He disappeared into the cockpit.

King was from Greece?

~~

“Did you know that King is Greek?” I asked Mack, who squinted at me with one eye from his hospital bed.

“My surgery went fine. Thanks for asking.”

I shook my head and pulled up a chair alongside his bed. “Sorry. I’m really spacy. I need sleep.”

“How did it go with Miranda?”

“I don’t know. She seemed suspicious, but she agreed.” I wondered if I should tell Mack about the additions to the deal. Miranda wanted to watch Vaughn die, and I acquired a guy.

No. Don’t do anything to worry him. He needs to rest.

I checked my watch. It was almost 6:00 a.m. “I guess we’ll know in a few hours if she delivers or not. By the way, how am I going to know if it’s Vaughn’s real arm?”

“We won’t, but I doubt she’ll give us a fake. 10 Club members don’t do that. It’s too easy to get caught and tarnish your name. One bad deal and it’s likely your head they’ll trade for next.”

“Oh. Well, good to know. But what if she can’t get her hands on it? What then?”

“Then we’re screwed.”

With less than thirteen hours left to go, screwed was looking more and more like our fate.

“Have some faith,” Mack whispered and closed his eyes, clearly in pain.

He was right. This would either work, or it wouldn’t. Sitting around sulking wouldn’t help us.

“By the way, I have Strong meeting you at King’s office in about four and a half hours,” Mack said quietly. “That gives you plenty of time to find the serum and…” he hesitated, “prepare it for her.”

Prepare
. I looked down at my hands, wondering if I really had the courage to go through with this. “Are you sure there isn’t another way?”

Mack took a moment before he opened his bloodshot eyes. “King ended his partnership with Talia after he found out she was secretly doing deals with Vaughn.”

I wondered what the point was. Seemed that everyone did deals with that despicable monster.

“Talia was trying some new transplant voodoo-crap she acquired and was using Vaughn to obtain young women. They peeled their skin off while they were still alive.”

“Okay.” I popped out of my chair. “Time to go kill Talia.” And Vaughn, for that matter, too. Heck. When I really thought about it, the entire Club needed to be exterminated. They were like cockroaches.

Oh my God
. I took a mental step back, shocked by how quickly I’d crossed that line.

Mack looked as shocked as I felt. “Well, I’m glad to see you take the truth in stride.”

“I’m going to hell,” I whispered.

“At least you won’t be lonely.” Mack grinned.

I looked at him and shook my head, but didn’t have much else to say. “Well, I guess I’d better get back to the warehouse.”

“After you find the serum, give it to Arno. He’ll deliver it.”

“Are you sure?” I felt guilty dragging him into this.

See. You still have some morals left, Mia.

I’m going to go kill someone. I’m going to hell. Period.

“Yes, I’m sure,” Mack replied.

“Any recommendations on the other ingredient?”

“King always has hemlock on hand. It’s on the second floor, in the four hundreds, I think.”

Hemlock. How strange
. It was the poison that woman mentioned in the book.

“Okay. Get some rest. I’ll call you in a few hours. Or not.” Meaning something went wrong and we were toast.

“Everything will be okay,” he tried to assure me.

I looked down at my feet and nodded. “Thanks for everything, Mack. I don’t know what I’d do if you weren’t here.”

Mack fell silent, and when I glanced at him, his expression was one of shame. Did he think he’d done something wrong? Because this situation certainly wasn’t his fault.

“See ya later, Mia,” he said.

“See ya.”

I left, knowing that I might not see him again.

CHAPTER
NINE

Two hours later, I was in possession of everything I needed. King’s organizational system had been fairly easy to figure out once I made a few laps around the second floor, careful to avoid the heads. Most of the items were numbered and classified by function. Poisons, weapons, or anything that could cause death were shelved together next to the nasty-looking spiders in little terrariums.

Items that might influence people’s minds—a bracelet with a “love spell,” inks for tattooing (of course, I frowned when I saw those), and other strange things like snow globes and old newspapers—were right next to the youth and reanimation serums. Most of the items had tags written in foreign languages, along with thick coatings of dust like they hadn’t been moved for decades. Underneath each item, however, were numbers so I could match them to King’s catalog.

“Is it ready?” Arno asked.

I stared at the tiny brown dropper bottle of oil I’d placed on King’s kitchen countertop alongside the poison and vial of Cleopatra’s blood. I found it hard to believe that one little drop of liquid could reanimate a dead hand or that blood could survive this long. This was some pretty weird stuff, and King could say all he liked, but there was no science in the world that would explain any of it. If this wasn’t magic, what was?

“Miss Turner?” Arno asked impatiently. “May I remind you that it is not just your life on the line.”

I glanced at Arno.

“What’s your real name?” I asked.

“Arsenius. Arsenius Spiros.”

I nodded. “Arsenius.” It was an unusual name, but fit the man.

“Why do you ask?”

I shrugged. “I just wanted to know who I’m sharing this moment with.”

He lifted one dark brow.

“You know,” I explained, “the moment I stopped being a good person.” I reached for the small bottle of poison, but Arno caught my hand.

“Let me,” he said.

“That’s sweet, but what difference does it make?”

“It makes a difference to you.”

“Why would you care?” It was an honest question.

“You are King’s…companion.”

Companion.
I was anything but that.

“And,” he added, “I think King would want me to shield you from anything that would create such a heavy burden.”

That was oddly sweet and unexpected. “Why are you so loyal to him, Arsenius?”

“I owe King my life.”

“What did King do for you?”

Still gripping my hand, Arno gave it a little squeeze, prompting me to pull back my arm.

I did.

“That is not your concern.” He took the small bottle of hemlock, poured a few drops into the vial of blood—aka the serum—and replaced its top. Arno then took the vial and headed for the steel door of King’s chamber. “I will call you after I’ve made the delivery. But if I do not return, please tell King that I hope to see him in the next lifetime.”

“Uhhh…” Arno’s strange words stuck inside my head. What had he meant? And what had King done for him? Because, as with Mack, Arno was ready to throw himself on the sword for King, and therefore, me.

Once again, the throbbing ignited inside my head. My brain couldn’t stop trying to reconcile the two conflicting versions of King. The good one and the not-so-good one.

I winced and then looked at the time.
One hour until Miranda’s delivery deadline.
If she didn’t show, we were all toast.

~~

Draco came to me last night, seeking comfort in my arms. He could not believe his own brother, his twin, would betray him with a public challenge. Stupid man. He believes he matters to me even though I have refused him in my bed a dozen times. Can he not see what I think of him? Or that I wish nothing more than to tell him he is weak and pathetic, that he should expect nothing less from fate? Because even fate knows she made a mistake when she allowed him to come first from his mother’s womb. He should not have been king.

Oh, the things I wanted to scream last night. Oh, how I longed to crush his feeble heart. But I could not. Draco could never know that it was I who sparked Callias’s betrayal, that it was Callias’s child now in my belly.

That is why I allowed Draco to lie with me one last time. That is why I waited until the man was deep in the throes of his passion, panting words of love in my ears, when I clawed at his back, leaving deep gashes. Over and over again I raked my nails into his bleeding flesh so he would know what was in my heart. But so desperate for my touch was he, that the pain did not stop Draco from having his fill. When he completed, Draco simply got up and left without a word.

I pray it will be the last time I see him before his death.

I closed the book, thinking I couldn’t possibly go on. The hatred inside this horrible woman was just unbearable. And the brother, in my mind, was the weak one. He allowed himself and his ego to be manipulated by this psycho Hagne. Or maybe both brothers were idiots for loving her. Who knew?

And the way she enjoyed hurting him…

Goose bumps erupted over every inch of my skin as I pictured Hagne smiling while she clawed at Draco’s back.
Poor man.
It seemed to me that loving her was his only fault, and part of me hoped she would be the one to die. That was, until she said she was carrying a baby. It was hard to wish death on a pregnant woman.

So, again, I had to ask, what was this story to King? A family history?

“It is not too late for you to run, Mia,” King said from the black leather couch.

“Christ. Do you always have to scare me like that?” I asked.

This time he wore a simple charcoal-gray sweater and button-fly jeans, his black stubble neatly trimmed. He looked so relaxed with his thick arms extended over the back of the chair.

He smiled, and those deep little dents puckered in both cheeks. “It is much more entertaining when I do. Your face makes that expression I enjoy so much.”

“What expression would that be?”