King of Me (The King Trilogy #3)(49)
Author: Mimi Jean Pamfiloff

You should’ve let King die, Mia. And you goddamned know it.

Mack reached down, effortlessly scooped King up in his arms—I guessed unconscious ghosts didn’t weigh much—and looked at me. “Ready?”

“No. I’m not.” But it was time to end this anyway.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

When the helicopter touched down, I had a whole new perspective on King’s palatial Crete estate. It was more than just a house. King had built the home directly over the spot where his real palace once stood. It represented a time when he was good, human, and…well, king.

When I stepped back, I began to see so very clearly the dichotomy that existed within King. There had always been a part of him that was noble, acting on behalf of the deeply loyal, fiercely protective man who existed at the core of his being. Then there was the other man: the part of him that had been corrupted and tainted by the curse. Even from the first moment we’d met, those two sides were always there, always at war with each other. No, my brain hadn’t known it, but my Seer side had. King really was evil. But he was also good.

The most disturbing part, however, was that both sides wanted me to love them, to choose one of them. That was why Draco the Lawgiver (evil King) wanted to kill me; I had rejected him. It was also why on the island he wanted to “break me” and turn me into some sort of cursed companion for his evil self. But I could only pity him, fear him, and feel a morbid fascination for him. The man I really loved was inside.

King.

Me.

I thought hard about the two of us, but there was no separation inside my heart. And that’s what my Seer blood had been trying to show me from the first moment we’d met.

So now what?

I don’t know.

Leaving the engine on, the pilot emerged from the cockpit and opened the exterior door to the helicopter. He looked directly at me and waited.

Numbed by a full four fingers of scotch and wearing an extra-large white bathrobe with a giant “K” embroidered over the heart (why the heck they had a spa-grade bathrobe aboard was the least of my concerns), I stood. Mack did not.

“Aren’t you coming?” I asked.

“Nope. I need to get as far away from here as humanly possible.”

“Why?” I asked, as several men boarded and carried off King. They didn’t seem at all bothered by his “slumbering” state, or by the giant dagger sticking from his neck. Just another day at the old Spiros office, working for a dead king, I supposed.

“Mia,” Mack said. “For a second time in my existence, I’ve done something to my brother that feels like an unforgiveable betrayal.”

“But he was out of control—”

“I know, Mia.” Mack held out his palm, urging me to hear him out. “But you don’t understand what he went through—what he gave up—to find me and bring me back, let alone free me from Miranda later on.”

He was right. I didn’t understand, but I could guess. For starters, King had chosen to bring back his brother instead of himself, prolonging his own suffering. It was a sign of King’s love for his twin brother.

Then there was the fact that Mack had “belonged” to Miranda—Vaughn’s 10 Club wife—sigh…—widow after Mack had served in some special ops role. All I knew was that he’d been treated very, very badly, and King freed him. Now, how or why Mack decided to spend his life in the armed forces, becoming a pilot, or how he’d managed to get himself mixed up with Miranda, well, I didn’t know. Anyone could see it would be a long, complicated, and very personal story. A story for another day perhaps.

“I’m sorry, Mack. You don’t owe me any explanations.”

“I did the right thing—no regrets. But I can’t stay. Once you break his curse, the Artifact will only allow you to bring back one life.”

“But I haven’t decided anything yet,” I explained.

“Mia, as f**ked up as my brother is, as many evil things as he’s done, I would still choose him. He’s my blood. Which is why I fully expect you’ll make the same choice. You love your brother, just like I love mine.”

I understood what he said; however, if Mack had to choose between the woman he loved and his brother, his decision might be different.

“You can’t leave, Mack. You’re the only one who understands the decision I have to make.”

He looked down at his feet for a moment, gathering his thoughts. “Mia, after I came back to life, I was not a good person for a long time. I did horrible unforgiveable things. Later, much, much later, my brother rescued me from my own darkness, and it kills me I can’t do the same for him now. Because I’m not willing to force you to pick him, and even if I was, it would break him to find out that you didn’t choose him freely. That would be the only way he’d be happy with that outcome.”

My father had a saying: When something doesn’t make sense, it’s because you don’t have all the facts. And that was why I could never fully understand King’s explanation about how the Artifact worked. But now…

“So,” I said, “King’s line about my having to love him in order to break the curse was complete bullcrap?”

Mack smiled. “I think he just wanted you to…” he paused, searching for the words, “pick him.”

All this time, that’s what King really wanted. Just for me to love him enough to choose him. “Why didn’t he just say so?”

“We’re talking about my brother here, Mia. What did you expect him to say? Hi, my name is Draco. You don’t remember me, but you and I met over three thousand years ago, and I love you. Oh, and you cursed me, so now I’m evil and partly mad because I’ve been suffering for just as long. Please ignore my evil tendencies which may be hazardous to your health. Pick me.”

I felt like a boulder had landed on my chest, and my eyes began to fill with giant tears. King had just been hoping I’d see through the curse and see him, the real him.

I wiped under my eyes and gave my head a shake, trying to keep it together. “Your brother is a complex man.”

“Exactly,” he said. “And he would never ask you to choose him over your brother. Nor would he judge you for loving someone so…”

“Fucked up like you once were?”

Mack laughed. “Yeah.”

So there it was. I finally had the answers to my biggest questions. Except one…

“What am I going to do?” I said, followed by a long breath.