Mack Page 14

  “And then what?” I asked.

  “If all goes well, tonight I will find out who Mack traded the chalice to.”

  That sounded easy. Too easy.

  “Are you ready?” he asked.

  “I guess—but first, tell me what happened. How do you feel?”

  His eyes filled with conflict and joy. “I feel…whole again.”

  My eyes filled with a smidgen of tears. I knew I should hate this man for everything he’d done to me, but now I couldn’t. He’d been broken before. And now he wasn’t.

  He took my hand and placed it on his cheek. “Make it bleed.”

  This was freaking weird. On the other hand, he had gutted me like a fish, cracked my neck a few times, and I think he’d even once lit me on fire. Maybe a few scratches to his beautiful face were in order.

  I flexed my fingers and raked down hard, digging my nails into his skin.

  He winced and pulled back. “Owww…”

  “Seriously?” I sneered at him and then screamed at the top of my lungs.

  He gave me a nod and then reminded me not to open the door for anyone except him.

  He left, and I locked the doors behind him before plopping down onto the bed. Well, that was goddamned weird.

  But little did I know, we were just getting started. At the end of it all, each of us would give up a piece of our souls and hearts for the chance to bring Mack back. And one of us would give up everything.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  While waiting in the big, expensively decorated bedroom—yes, fit for a king with a king-sized bed, soft down comforter and pillows, and plush velvety white carpet—I realized that I had completely neglected my old life. You know, that one with a job, two retired parents, and a handful of friends who didn’t actually know the real me?

  Bentley! I dug out my cell from my pocket and called Shannon. Thankfully, Bentley had a doggie door and a big bowl full of food along with water, so he wasn’t starving, but who knew when I’d be back.

  Come on. Come on. Come on. Yes! Shannon answered, and I told her that I was deathly ill and staying with a friend—which she didn’t seem surprised by given how bad off I’d been the last time she’d seen me at the center. I also told her where to find my hidden house key and Bentley’s supply of food and treats. I then texted my parents, lying to them too about having the flu, and added a Facebook post to seal the deal with my friends. I bought myself a few extra days before anyone started really worrying.

  After about two hours, I heard a light knock on the door. Unsure of who it might be, I didn’t answer.

  “It’s me, Theodora. They’ve all left now,” said a King-sounding voice.

  “How do I know it’s really you?”

  “You were wearing a brown potato sack and running in the mud the first time I killed you.”

  Yep. That’s King. I went to unlock the door, and he pushed his way in, not pausing to look at me. A man on a mission.

  “I found out who Mack traded the chalice to,” he said, and began pacing by the window, rubbing that strong stubbled chin of his between his thumb and index finger. Why did he have to look so much like original Mack?

  Nature was a cruel teasing bitch to make double.

  “And?” I said.

  “It’s not good. Her name is Talia, and our relationship is less than optimal for a trade of any sort.”

  “English, please?”

  King sighed, and it struck me as odd. He was the sort of man who didn’t sigh, whine, whimper or do anything that could possibly be construed as a weakness. He was all about decisive action.

  He has really changed. It still shocked the hell out of me that I had the power to do that.

  “Talia and I used to be partners,” he said. “That didn’t suit her, so I cut ties.”

  “Oh.” I nodded knowingly. “Scorned lover.”

  “Scorned non-lover. She’s vowed to never do a favor for me again until I do one for her.” He gave me a look.

  “Ah. That kind of favor.” These 10 Club women were manipulative, needy sickos.

  “Yes. And considering she’ll have heard about my escapades with you this evening, she’ll be less inclined to change her mind and trade for the chalice.”

  “Because you slummed it with me, it’s a double slap that you wouldn’t slum it with her?” I asked sarcastically.

  “Precisely,” he said, missing the fact that I’d been joking.

  “You and I need another dance,” I retorted. “Possibly a cha-cha.” He needed more of my Seer nice-juice.

  He gave me a look. He didn’t get it.

  “Never mind,” I said.

  He did just that and continued, “Unfortunately, we will still need to go to Talia and try to strike a deal, as futile as the effort might be. Luckily, I have something she desires.”

  “More than a chalice?”

  “No and yes,” he replied.

  “Can you be any more vague?” I asked.

  “I’m King. I’ve cornered the market on vague.” I heard a phone vibrating somewhere on his body. He slipped his hand into his tux coat pocket and looked at the screen before accepting the call and holding the phone to his ear. “Hello, Miss Turner,” he said in a silky, deep voice. He then immediately pulled the device away from his ear. Even I could hear the screaming. After several screechy moments, he turned away from me and cupped the cell to his mouth. “Mia, do not be so foolish. I have not been unfaithful and let me remind you all that I endured to be with you.” More screeching and holding the phone from his ear. He then returned it. “Yes. Of course I slept with other women while we were apart. Christ, I was cursed with evil for three thousand years. And I am a man. But this is no reason to accuse me of forsaking my vows.” He listened. “Well, if I listened to everything I heard about you, then I might believe you’re a whining, annoying, overly curious female. However, I am smarter than most and recognize your inquisitive nature for what it truly is: intelligence and compassion.” He listened some more. “Theodora has done nothing more than heal me, Mia. She has taken away my pain and torment.” Pause. “Yes. It’s true. I merely created an illusion to protect her from the 10 Club.” He listened. “Yes, I am wonderful and very strong. You are lucky to have me. Give my love to Arch.”

  I honestly didn’t know what to make of the man. He was still King—all cockiness and powerful—but now he had a less edgier edge.

  He ended his call and then put away his cell, looking at me. “So are you ready?”

  “Yes—ready for what, though?”

  “I am told Talia is in Vegas. We will go to her and do our best to barter for the chalice.”

  Vegas. Oh goodie. “If you don’t mind my asking, what do you have that she might want?”

  He looked at me. “She’s always wanted a Seer.”

  “Great.”

  “But I doubt it will be enough. The chalice is very rare and can bring anyone back from the dead—no matter how old.”

  “How’s that even possible?” I asked, but it was more of a spoken thought. The thing seemed too good to be true.

  “They say the great king of the Incas, an expert of the dark arts, used the blood of a thousand priests to mix in with the alloy. He then created a small fissure between our world and the spirit world.”

  “You just sounded like an episode of the X-Files.” Yes, I liked the show. Scully was very logical, so it had appealed to the old me.

  King shot me a look.

  “I’m guessing you’re not a TV man,” I said.

  He lifted his chin proudly. “I watch Antiques Roadshow. One must stay current.”

  I wanted to laugh. Of course he would like that show; he was a three-thousand-year-old antique himself.

  “Let us make our way to the airport,” he said. “I’ll have to procure tickets on the way since I am without a plane or pilot.”

  I assumed because he’d sent Mia away to Greece with his baby.

  “Does Mia have any clothes I could borrow?” I hated to ask, but I was sti
ll wearing my black tee, jeans, and tennis shoes from the day before. “And a spare toothbrush?”

  “No. She never stays here. She says it gives her the heebie-jeebies. I find the home quite comforting.”

  Yeah, he’d killed so many nice, nice people on this very spot. Like me! So homey.

  ~~~

  “Please stop threatening to remove people’s heads, King. I don’t want to end up in jail,” I said from inside the fitting room inside the Vegas airport.

  His dark voice flowed through the door as if inside the small room with me. I was beginning to learn that while King was no longer a disembodied spirit walking in the world of the living, he still had an abundance of impressive and very spooky powers. Such as being able to project himself into a person’s head, mind control, and mass hypnosis. It was a fucking miracle I was still alive because I realized he couldn’t kill me just by looking at me.

  “I am not that powerful,” he said through the other side of the door. “You sound as if you watch too many of the Z-Files.”

  “X-Files. And get out of my head.”

  “I am merely attempting to ascertain if you plan to double-cross me,” he explained.

  Why would I do that? I asked.

  Because I have decapitated you, disemboweled you, burned you at the stake, and—

  Okay. I see your point, I replied. But get out of my head! And he called the passengers on the plane “annoying.”

  “I will never fly commercial again,” he said aloud. “They clearly design those cabins for men without cocks or legs.”

  I laughed. Sadly, we’d been in a hurry, so he’d purchased seats on Southwest, not understanding this concept of economy-only seating.

  “Yes, well, I thought I would simply take a seat in first class. Who invented such a plane without first class? A moron with a vagina, I am guessing.”

  Still a chauvinist pig. How did Mia put up with him?

  “Are you dressed yet?” he asked.

  I finished putting on my tennis shoes and opened the door. He looked at me and a tiny smile flickered across his lips.

  I looked down at my slot-machine sweater, complete with a sequin handle. “It’s all they have, King.”

  He chuckled and followed me to the register so I could pay. I had to admit, seeing this different version of King—less callous, less serious—really made my heart ache that much more for Mack. I imagined how he might be if he weren’t carrying around all that baggage and self-loathing.

  About forty minutes later, we were sitting in a suite called a Skyloft at the MGM. I’d never seen a hotel room that looked more like a five-star, modern townhouse slash nightclub with a view of Vegas.

  “This Talia must be a high roller,” I said, looking out the two-story-high windows on the top floor of the high-rise hotel.

  “When one has powers such as hers, gambling is just an easy way to make money.”

  I understood that he meant she had her ways of winning, just like King had his ways of finding people and then convincing the bellhop to let us in to wait for our “friend.”

  “Well, well, well,” said a sugary-sweet voice from the black lacquered double doors. “What brings the infamous King to my kingdom of sin?”

  I looked at the woman and honestly didn’t know what to think. She had shiny long brown hair, was about my height—five seven—and weighed about a hundred pounds from the look of her. But her anorexic frame wasn’t what had me gawking. Lord, that face. Her skin was so tight from too many face-lifts, I was sure her cheekbones were going to pop out underneath the inch of pancake makeup she wore.

  “Cut the bullshit, Talia,” he said in a cold, menacing tone, showing no signs of his recent change of heart. “You know why I’m here.”

  “I can guess.” She dipped her head. “You’re looking for your brother.”

  So Talia didn’t know Mack was dead. I assumed King wasn’t going to share either.

  “No,” King said. “I am looking for something he stole from me. Something he then traded with you.”

  She cackled into the air, then withdrew a cigarette from her shiny gold handbag and lit it up. “Well, then you’re wasting your time, King. Because I traded with him fair and square, per the rules of the 10 Club.” She blew out a big puff of smoke.

  King stepped in. “It’s mine, Talia. I need it for another trade.”

  She laughed and shook her head. “Don’t treat me like an idiot. I know you want the thing for your sweet little Mia.” She rolled her eyes. “God, I should’ve choked her when I had the chance.”

  King didn’t react to the jab. I held my breath, waiting to see where this would go.

  King shook his head condescendingly. “Since we both know you don’t need the chalice because you have no one you care for or who’s ever cared for you—alive or dead—why don’t you name your price so I can be on my way, Talia.”

  A sinister rage flickered in her eyes. “I want Miranda taken out and myself appointed as the new president of 10 Club.”

  His blue, blue eyes flickered. “You know that I am merely a member. I cannot grant such a thing.”

  From the way she cocked a badly drawn eyebrow, I could see she didn’t believe him. “You and I both know you can make things happen—you have influence among the other members.”

  King shook his head. “You wouldn’t last a day as president—the other members will kill you before the announcement goes out.”

  She glared at him. “I wasn’t done yet.” Meaning, she had more demands?

  “Go on.” King crossed his thick arms.

  “I want you.”

  He scoffed. “Never going to happen.”

  “Why? Because you married that little Seer cunt.”

  I could tell that comment got under his skin. Deep, deep under. Jaw flexing, fists clenching hard.

  “No,” he replied. “Because you are a vile, treacherous woman and my dick would rather shrivel up and fall off than enter that three-hundred-year-old rotting hole you call a vagina.”

  Ouch! That had to hurt. Good one, King. I hoped he was listening in on my thoughts. Wait—she’s three hundred years old?

  She cocked her head to the side, almost as if she knew she had him by the balls. “That’s my price, King. Take it or leave it.”

  He stared at her, unflinching.

  Oh, God. He’s not actually considering her offer, is he? I needed to intervene.

  “I think it would be pretty humiliating to have a man’s dick literally fall off at the sight of you.” Talia shot poison darts from her eyes at me. “What? Just sayin’.” I shrugged. “Also saying that Seers are extremely rare. Would you want one as a trade instead?”

  “Theodora,” King barked, “you are to remain silent.”

  But…wasn’t that the plan? Trading me? I thought.

  Silence, he projected into my head.

  Talia lifted a brow and then took a good hard look at me. “A Seer,” she said with delight. “I thought you killed them all, King. Except for your Mia of course, who I hear is no longer useful. Just had to break her, didn’t you?”

  Given my and King’s history, I wasn’t shocked by hearing he had killed Seers. I just wondered why. A question for another day.

  “Well,” he said, “I clearly have not killed them all, but I am not willing to part with this one.” He gave me a shushing glance, urging me to keep my mouth shut.

  Talia shrugged. “Suit yourself. My terms still stand if you want the chalice.”

  What the hell had just happened? Because if I didn’t know any better, I’d say that King had…protected me again, like he had at the party. Yes. This man who’d hunted me and hated me for killing his brother was now saving me from whatever horrible fate might become of me if I were to be given to this woman.

  “Show me the chalice,” King said.

  “Wait.” I grabbed his elbow. “Can we talk? Outside?”

  The nostrils on King’s perfectly straight, regal nose flared with contempt.

  “It’s i
mportant,” I urged.

  He narrowed his beautiful eyes at me, which reminded me of why he was doing this: Mack. And while Mia had not gone into detail, the fact that she was willing to save Mack versus her own brother, simply based on the fact that King could not live without his twin, spoke volumes. She knew that these two brothers were clearly joined at the hip and had been for eons. Honestly, I was an only child, but I could still relate. I felt the same way about Mack as King did.

  “It better be important, Miss Valentine, or I will be forced to punish you,” King said.

  I wanted to kick his shins for that comment, but my Seer goggles told me this was all an act. The colors bursting from his body were vivid greens and white. Not that I’d figured out what any of it meant, but looking at him literally made me feel good.

  I lifted my chin, playing along. “That’s Dr. Valentine, King.”

  He dipped his head. “Very well, Dr. Valentine, you have two minutes.”

  I followed him out the door into the hall. Once the door was closed, I went into hysterics. “What are you doing, King?” I hissed.

  “Saving my brother,” he hissed back.

  “Then do it,” I barked. “Trade me like you said you would. I don’t care.” Mack was everything to me.

  “He will never forgive me if he returns and finds you are the property of Talia. This is the only way.”

  “No.” I fumed. “You will just have to tell Mack that I did this for him, because he would never forgive me for ruining his brother’s life.”

  “I am over three thousand fucking years old, Miss Valentine. I will not let some second-rate, pre-Colombian voodoo queen Seer tell me what to do.”

  What! “Yes, you will.”

  He lowered his head, just inches from my face and then waved his hand across it. “Yes…You…Will…”

  His words seeped into my skull like the memory of delicious fresh baked cookies—so welcome and irresistible. Suddenly, I wanted to do everything he said.

  He added, “And you will wait out here for me in silence until I retrieve you.”

  The front part of my lobe made me nod and say, “Yes. I will wait here.” The back part of my lobe was kicking and cursing—A-hole! A-hole! A-hole!—totally helpless to override his command.