King for a Day (The King Trilogy #2)(32)
Author: Mimi Jean Pamfiloff

I wanted to throw up. That this sort of sickness even existed in the world was something I would never have believed. And this horror of a human being was selling tickets.

“So what’s the going rate?” I asked bitterly.

“A million dollars.”

A million bucks? One hundred people paid a million bucks to see me tortured to death? What the hell is wrong with the world? “When will the ‘fun’ start?” I seethed.

“Normally I would wait a week so that I can give everyone the opportunity to buy a ticket, but I’ve been itching for you, Miss Turner. I’ve dreamed of hearing you scream every night since we met. Oh, yes. I bet you scream pretty.” He dug his nails into his jaw and scratched hard, leaving bloody streaks on his skin. “Tomorrow night will be your special time.”

I wasn’t sure how, but I promised myself that payback would come. I was a Seer. Maybe I could curse him like Hagne had cursed King?

Vaughn sighed happily. “Oh! Before I forget, I have a special treat for you, Mia.” He scurried off, leaving me standing in the center of the cramped room. I wondered if I could run, but as soon as I stepped into the corridor, I saw the pointlessness to that plan. There were heavy iron gates on both ends of the hallway. Nowhere to run except to another room, of which there were three all in a row.

Vaughn stuck his greasy head of hair out of the nearest doorway and waved me over. “Don’t be afraid. I promise you’ll enjoy this.”

I slowly approached, terrified by what he wanted to show me. I prayed it wasn’t one of his recent makeover victims. “Come on now, Miss Turner. I have a dinner party tonight. No time to lose.” He reached forward and yanked me by the hand.

When I reluctantly peered inside, the strength in my legs washed away. Shit! I braced myself against the door jamb.

King’s limp body lay on the small, twin-sized bed. His feet dangled over the edge, and one arm hung on the floor.

“You can see him, can’t you?” Vaughn asked.

I nodded yes. “What did you do to him?”

Vaughn let out an accomplished sigh. “That’s my little secret. But he’ll not be sneaking away for little visits anymore!” He snickered. “Oh, but not to worry. As promised, he will be wide awake to watch while I peel the flesh from your bones.” Vaughn made a strange little bow. “Sleep tight.”

He left me there with King, and I heard the iron gate close. I quickly peeked outside in the corridor to ensure Vaughn was truly gone before rushing back. “King? King,” I whispered. “Wake up.” I shook him by the shoulders, but he wasn’t moving. I put my ear to his mouth, and there was no breath either.

I was about to freak the hell out when I realized that the man I was seeing was already dead.

I stared closely at the fine details of his handsome, peaceful face—light-olive skin, sultry lips, his straight nose and thick black growth of stubble. I cautiously reached out and ran my fingertips over his eyebrow. Its texture was fine and silky. Then I glided my hand over his cheekbone, down his neck, and to his exposed collarbone that showed through his partially unbuttoned dress shirt.

Jesus, what did Vaughn do to you? King’s elaborate collar tattoo was gone. I pushed open the shirt a little wider to inspect for marks. The skin was in perfect condition as was the rest of his beautiful body. He was warm and firm to the touch. Not cold or clammy. Not transparent or permeable like I’d seen ghosts in movies. King was real and solid and felt very much alive.

He’s still a ghost.

I began to cry. “God, King, why didn’t you tell me the truth?”

But if he had told me that he was the spirit of a cursed king roaming the earth, searching for salvation from his personal hell, would I have believed him? Actually, given everything I’d seen the man do? Yeah. I think I would have. Would I have run like he’d asked? Even if he’d confessed to killing Seers? No. I’d already thought that through on the plane. I would have ended up in this very spot, and maybe King knew that. He seemed to know a lot of things.

I lowered myself to sit beside the bed, on the cold cement floor, and tried desperately to ignore the violent reds that stained every inch of every surface. Vaughn had hurt a lot of people down here in his “special” rooms, the sick, sick bastard.

Instead, I focused on King, thinking through our every encounter. How had I missed it? The way the man seemed to climb out of the shadows and into my head; the way he mesmerized me with his presence. He was anything but a man, yet all I saw was a handsome billionaire in a nice suit, with a jet and some serious personality quirks.

I laughed quietly to myself, remembering what King had told me once: “I’m sorry to disappoint you, Miss Turner, but there are only two types of people in this world: living or dead. I’m afraid there isn’t much in between.”

I guess he was the “not much in between.” Mack even mentioned that some part of me knew what King was, but that I hadn’t wanted to accept it. He’d been right. It was why my head always ached.

I sighed. So this was it. I was going to die. Here. With Draco the cursed king from some Greek island. The king who’d had his heart decimated by a psycho bitch that decided destroying him for one lifetime wasn’t enough. All because she saw him as weak for being kind to his people. “I think you f**ked with the wrong king, Hagne.” And thank you psycho-Seer for f**king up my life, too.

Damn. I almost hoped King succeeded in resurrecting her just so he could remove her head all over again and I could watch. What a complete bitch.

~~

“Miss Turner, so nice of you to join me.” King’s deep, sultry voice penetrated my ears and shot tiny tingles over my aching, tired body.

“Not now, King. I need to sleep.” I moaned and pushed his hand from my cheek.

“I think there will be time for sleep later. Perhaps an eternity of sleep if you do not wake,” he said.

“No. I want to stay in bed,” I whined.

“You do realize that you are in Vaughn’s basement, yes? And that he intends to kill you in twenty-four hours in a very violent, unsavory, public execution broadcast over closed-circuit television.”

Huh? I lifted my head that had been resting on the edge of the bed while the rest of me sat hunched over on the cold floor. King sat on the bed, his arms crossed, leaning back against the wall.

I blinked and stared into those pale gray eyes. “King?”

He lifted a brow. “Yes?”

“Am I dreaming?”