King of Me (18 page)

Again I nodded and looked into Callias’s distraught eyes. Why did he have to look exactly like King? Why? “This is so screwed up.”

He smiled. “I am glad someone understands.” He sat next to me. “This outcome was never my desire. But now the people cry out for my head. My brother is a martyr, and there is nothing I can do to win them or restore peace.”

Dammit.
I didn’t want to feel sorry for him.

I drew a breath. “I’m sorry. I wish I could help you.”

“As do I.”

“So, why are you here?” I asked.

He shrugged. “Because tomorrow we will lay my brother’s body into the ground, and my guards will kill me in vengeance.”

My head whipped up. “What?”

“I realize it is hard to believe, but I do have friends. And they have warned me in hopes that I will run and save myself.”

“What are you going to do?” I asked.

“Tomorrow I will die and join my brother.”

“He wouldn’t have wanted that,” I argued.

“I know. However, that is the way it will end, and I cannot live with the guilt of killing him, so it is for the best.”

So everyone dies for nothing. Holy frigging Greek tragedy from hell!

On the other hand…“Well, you killed him, Callias. You ended your brother’s life, and you
should
hate yourself. Because you should’ve known the situation was fucked up. I mean, didn’t it cross your mind to tell him that you’ve got a lot of enemies?”

“I did not know the people despised me as much as they do.”

I still wanted to claw his face. He didn’t deserve to wear something so beautiful. “You know what? It doesn’t matter now. Just leave.” Because, frankly, I had my own troubles to deal with, meaning if I ever wanted to see the man I loved, I had to make that bracelet work. I also had to mentally sort through what the recent turn of events meant for my family.

“I feel worse than you could ever imagine,” Callias said.

“Why are you still here?”

His face bright red, he said, “Because I was there when you cursed him. I saw the look in your eyes, and I wished to spend my last night on earth with someone who understands my pain. I wanted,” he said bitterly, “to remember my brother and share it with someone who loved him as much as I did.”

“Oh.” Feeling the despair and sincerity in his words, I shrank back.
Goddammit!
I couldn’t win. Even if I wanted to blame him for everything, I couldn’t.

Staring down at my feet, I sighed. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said what I did. I’m just…angry. And I miss him.”

“So I was right; you did love him.”

“Do,” I corrected. “That’s why I cursed him—to keep him alive.” I realized how strange that sounded, but there was no other way to explain it. “But now I don’t know if I’ve done the right thing.” Had I condemned everyone to relive the fate I so desperately wanted to change? I didn’t know.

“You did what you had to,” he said. “As did I.”

“This is so damned awful.”

“Does this mean you will grant a dying man his last wish?”

“You want me to keep you company?” I asked.

“Yes.”

Insanity. Who would want to be near me? I was a mess.

“I promise,” he said, “it is what Draco would have wanted.”

What a guilt trip. And it worked. “Okay,” I whispered.

“Thank you.” Callias hugged me tightly like a big dopey kid. “Draco was right about you. You have a merciful heart.”

Unable to breathe, I wiggled loose. “Not really.”

Callias gripped my shoulders. “If I had been in your shoes, I would have killed me on the spot. Trust me, you are quite merciful.”

~~~

Except for the mind-blowing, sexy-as-hell body just like King’s, Callias was nothing like his brother. Callias liked to play and goof around with his guy friends, mainly drinking watered- down wine (they all seemed to be lightweights) and picking up women. He had zero interest in ruling or taking on responsibilities. I’d heard about twins being opposites, but now I’d finally seen it with my own eyes.

After safely depositing the Artifact in the bottom of King’s treasure basket and instructing the guards not to let anyone in for any reason, Callias and I made our way to a quiet beach east of the palace, away from any crowds. All Callias wanted to do was talk about Draco, as if holding his own private memorial with me. It was sad and touching the way Callias looked up to his brother.

“Draco was the one my father groomed to rule,” he said. “Not me.”

“Did that make you mad?” I asked, holding down my blue flowing dress around my hips as the wind picked up. Callias, on the other hand, didn’t seem at all bothered when his little man skirt flipped up, putting his penis on full display. I tried not to peek, but they were twins and…well, my curiosity got the best of me.

Yep, identical.

Anyway, the Minoan attitude toward nudity was pretty different than my own.

“No. I never felt envious of my brother,” Callias answered. “Quite the opposite. No one cared about how I spent my time, so I enjoyed the fruits of life—played with other children growing up, spent time with my mother, fished, drank, hunted…I did whatever pleased me. I felt sorry for Draco.”

It was so ironic. Draco was the one saddled with the future of their people, so Callias got to be the reckless wild child. Little did anyone know how things would turn out.

“So what was King—I mean,
Draco,
like?”

Callias shrugged his broad bare shoulders. Funny, even the way he frowned was exactly like King. It only made me miss him more, but I willed myself to keep it together. I desperately wanted to be there for Callias and take care of him like I would my own brother.

“Draco was always serious, always tough, never like a child. My cousins and I feared him. Even when we were little, I remember wanting to hide when I saw Draco.”

I laughed. “I can completely imagine him being a little tyrant. It suits him.”

“I think his attitude was a product of my father’s grooming. He was extremely hard on Draco, shunning any signs of weakness. He wanted my brother to be a fair man and understand compassion, but not be controlled by it.”

“He didn’t hurt him, did he?” I guessed it wasn’t unusual for people to beat their kids in these times. Hell, people still beat their kids.
A-holes.

“He did not need to. One look from my father’s stern face, and you’d feel the trickle of warm piss down your leg. Then, he’d say, ‘Leave the compassion for the gods. We are here to rule.’ To him that meant keeping the peace, ensuring there was a well-prepared army, and food for the masses.”

“Doesn’t sound like he had a fun childhood.”

“Well, he got to have his own army, had first pick of all the horses, and owned about twenty islands.” He smiled. “But yes, I had all the fun. I think Draco hated me for it, but as we grew older, I became his only true friend. Probably because I understood him best—what my father and mother were like, the pressures of the council, the constant endeavor to please the gods. He always looked to me for advice, especially when the issue at hand pertained to things more sensitive in nature.”

That was sweet, really.

“Then,” Callias said, “when my father died, I had to go to my brother’s side to assist him. Of course, now I regret not trying harder. I did as little as possible.”

“And Hagne? How did you meet her?”

“Her family serves ours and has for generations. I’ve known her since I can remember.”

“Did you love her?” I asked.

“No,” he spat. “I spend most of my time on the other side of the island, overseeing trade with visitors. I had not laid eyes on her for years.”

“What visitors?”

He pointed beyond the horizon. “Everyone from the mainland. Of course, most are barbarians. We’re lucky to be here, sheltered and isolated from them, with the exception of trade merchants who come for our olives, wine, and metal.”

“Too bad you couldn’t have traded Hagne away.”

“I understand she tried to kill you.”

“Yes,” I replied. “She claimed to be in love with you, but hated your brother. I offered to take Draco off her hands.” He was mine, anyway.

“In love with me?” He scratched his rough jaw, and it almost cracked me. It was exactly the way King did it. “The woman was mad. We’ve spoken barely a handful of words since we were children.”

Knowing that Callias had not had eyes for Hagne gave me a bit of peace. Perhaps, in the first version of events, Hagne had used her “gifts” to make Callias think he loved her and wanted the throne. Because
this
Callias didn’t seem to care about either. One thing was for certain, though, he did seem like the sort of man to be easily led astray. There was a definite boyish innocence to him.

“I am glad she’s dead,” he added. “Better world without her.”

“Unfortunately, her death’s put us all in this position.” I paused, thinking for a moment. “So why not hop on a boat and leave?”

“I am many things, but a coward I am not. This is my home. I want to die here.”

I shook my head. “But there’s a big world out there. You might find another home.”

Sure, I had zero clue of what the rest of the world looked like—Egyptians, I knew they were well established, and I knew that Europe wasn’t Europe yet. More like a collection of barbaric tribes. Then there were the Mayans and…

Hell.
Again, I found myself wishing I’d paid closer attention to world history, specifically the Bronze Age. Which, clearly, we were in, given the men toted bronze swords. Not a lick of steel or silver to be found.

“I will not leave my brother,” Callias said. “I am certain he awaits me on the other side.” Callias had stopped walking and decided to sit on a large washed-up log.

I sat beside him, thinking about the two brothers running amuck in this “other side,” whatever that was.

“Well,” I said, “if you find him, can you tell him I miss him? And I need to see him again, to break his curse.”

“You truly believe you can bring him back?”

I shook my head. “I honestly don’t know what’s going to happen.”

“Such is life.” Several long, silent moments passed. “I need a drink. Might you join me?”

I gazed into those big blue eyes and imagined for a moment they were King’s. I knew they weren’t, but they gave me comfort nonetheless.

“Wouldn’t you rather go find some women with your friends and live it up?” I asked.

He shook his head. “No. I prefer to watch the sun set over my favorite ocean while drinking my favorite wine.”

I nodded. “Just please don’t give me any of that watered-down stuff. It’s disgusting.”

He laughed. “Do not tell me that you drink your wine full strength. What would my brother say?”

“What’s wrong with that?” I laughed, too.

“Only barbarians drink such potent spirits.”

“Potent?” I chuckled. “From where I come, full-strength wine is considered a frou-frou drink.”

“What is the meaning of ‘frou-frou’?”

“You mean Hagne’s tattoo couldn’t translate that?”

He shook his head no.

“It means it’s not very manly,” I said just to mess with him.

His mouth fell open. “Are you saying I am not manly because I drink my wine with water?”

I burst out laughing.

“What?” He puffed out his chest.

“You are manly. A big dopy dude, just like your brother.”

“You dare insult me? I may not be the king, but I am still deadly—very good with a sword and my fists, I might add.”

It was strange, but in that moment, he really reminded me of someone. “Mack!”

Callias seemed to want to roll his eyes. “Another one of your insults, I presume?”

“No, no. Mack is…” How could I explain this? “Mack is your brother’s most loyal and trusted friend. He’s like a brother. You remind me of him, that’s all.” And now it made sense why King had him around; Mack must’ve reminded him of Callias.

“I was afraid to ask, but now I must,” Callias said.

“Yes?” I said.

“Is it true that you come from another time, a time far into the future?”

“So he told you.”

“Yes,” he replied. “I thought him mad at first, but I saw in his eyes that he spoke the truth—or believed he spoke the truth.”

“What else did he tell you?”

Callias rubbed his unshaven jaw. “That he would move the heavens and earth to be with you.”

I suddenly felt my despair bubbling to the surface. I was going to lose it.

Callias noticed. He quickly stood and held out his hand. “Let us find wine and celebrate my final hours in this body.”

“You’re really not afraid to die?” I said in a quiet voice.

“Of course not. What is there to fear?”

“Everything.” Like being cursed to walk the earth forever or staying dead and not coming back at all.
Christ, King. Where are you? I need you.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

“Are you sure the things in Draco’s chamber are safe?” I asked, growing nervous about leaving the Artifact for such a long time.

Callias had procured a few “bottles” (ceramic jars, really) of wine and ordered the servants to build a fire on the private beach below the palace where we now sat.

“The guards may secretly wish to take my head,” he said, “but they dare not defile my brother’s belongings.”

“Good, because I bound your brother’s curse to a rock and hid it in his room.”

He jerked his head in shock.

“Without it,” I said, “the curse can’t be undone. And if you ask me why, I couldn’t explain it. I only know that it’s the most valuable thing I own.”

“Do you wish me to retrieve it?” he asked.

Considering that Callias intended on getting smashed tonight, not such a good idea. Also, there was a shocking lack of personal, portable storage in this age, i.e., no pockets. It was too easy to lose it.

“No. Just as long as you are absolutely sure no one will touch it.”
Damn. What I wouldn’t give for a fanny sack right now.

“I assure you.” He smiled, and I almost swooned. I couldn’t help but look at Callias and fantasize he was King with those dark features, olive skin, and light eyes.