King’s (The King Trilogy #1)(21)
Author: Mimi Jean Pamfiloff

“Searching for what?” I asked.

“I don’t know. But it was powerful. Can you feel its energy, Miss Turner, radiating through the rocks and ground we stand upon?”

I only felt him, his touch, moving inside my body. I wanted more.

I wiggled my head back and forth. Why did I feel so loopy? Why couldn’t I think straight? “I feel like throwing up.”

King placed his hands on either side of my face, which only increased the wild, erotic sensations pulsing through me. “Mia.” He stroked the hair from my eyes. “You are safe now. You simply need to relax, to let your mind do the work. Do you understand?”

Safe? With King? Impossible. I’d never be safe around him.

I nodded anyway.

“Good,” he said. “Now look around, and tell me what you see.”

I wanted to please him. I wanted to do exactly what he asked. I just didn’t want him to stop touching me. “I see…I see…dirt?” I looked back into his eyes. They were no longer silver, but black, black like the night.

“Try again, Mia. Try harder.” His hands moved to my shoulders and massaged gently.

I closed my eyes and fully leaned my mind into the sensual power of his touch. I am stoned. Stoned. I think I like it. No, I don’t. I like control. I like to know what’s going on. “And I like you, King. I like you.” I poked his chest. “You’re sexy and big, and I…like you.”

Had I said that? Me?

King sighed. “If only that were true. Now focus, Mia.”

“Okaaay. But you have to kiss me again. Then I’ll do anything you want.”

“Again?”

“Like you did in my dream.”

“So you dream about me?” The thought seemed to please him.

“Yes or no, King. Yes or no,” I said, mocking his voice.

Hesitation flickered in his striking eyes, but then those full carnal lips edged with thick black stubble smiled at me, and I melted.

“Just remember, you asked.” He threaded his fingers through my hair and cautiously brought his mouth to mine.

Oh God. I sucked in a sharp breath through my nose. His kiss shot delicious tingles and sparks through my entire body. It made my stomach quiver and twist and…

I leaned my drunken weight into that sublimely masculine body forged from solid muscle and cold, hard, domineering strength. This wasn’t the taste of a man who was damaged or evil, but of a man who conquered and triumphed. This man felt like a god.

I sighed and savored the sensation of his hot, unrelenting lips roughly pressed to mine and of his hot tongue sliding in and out of my mouth. I slipped my arms around his tight waist and pulled his warm body closer, only to feel the pang of rejection as he pushed me back.

“No, Miss Turner. I gave you what you wanted, and now you must reciprocate.”

I made a pouty sigh. “Fine. But…wait. What did you want?”

King’s dark eyes washed over the room. “Tell me what you see.”

I held up my index finger. “Ah, yes!”

I surveyed the perfectly rectangular cavern with crudely cut wooden beams supporting the ceiling, surprised to see all sorts of colors swirling in various spots over the dirt floor. “Woooow. I see colors. Lots of pretty, pretty colors,” I slurred.

“Do you see anything red?” King asked.

“Yes!” I pointed to several large spots on the ground. There were four.

“Very good. And do you see anything with a black and red pattern?” he asked.

“Right there.” I pointed to a shallow hole in the corner. “It has a weird design. Kind of like crisscrosses.” It reminded me of something, but I couldn’t think of what.

I turned to King. “What is it?”

King’s eyes lit with unfiltered joy. “It is the Artifact—where it used to lie, anyway.”

“Artifact?”

Suddenly, my head felt like it was buried beneath ten tons of gravel, like something wanted to press me into the ground and send me to the fiery pits of hell. I stumbled and gripped the sides of my head.

“Fight to accept it, Miss Turner. You must fight.”

I grimaced in pain. “Fight…what?”

He didn’t answer. Instead, he asked me a question. “Where do you see the red?”

I pointed to one of the four spots only three feet away.

“Dig, Miss Turner.”

My mind was beginning to clear, the lucidity returning. “Dig?”

King pointed to the loose dirt. “Dig.”

“Why?” I asked.

Yes, my head is becoming clearer now. Why am I here?

Regardless of what my mind said, my body lowered itself to the ground and began to dig. Three or four inches down, I hit something soft. I scooped several handfuls of earth to the side, then brushed away the remaining dirt. It was an arm.

I jumped up and screamed.

King gripped me firmly from behind. “Look at it. I don’t want there to be any doubts moving forward of what is real and what is not.”

I twisted my head away. “No, I can’t.”

“If you want to find your brother, you will look.” He pushed my jaw in the direction of the hole. “Open your eyes, Mia.”

I couldn’t help myself from doing what he asked. When my eyes registered what I saw, I understood something profoundly disturbing; I was not right in the head.

“That’s…that’s…” The arm had a tattoo of a serpent and a pickax. The flesh was rotten and blue. “It’s Brian,” I cried. Oh God. “Is Justin here, too?” No. Please, Lord, no!

“He is not, Miss Turner. Those others are your brother’s missing crew.”

I crumpled beneath the weight of my own body.

CHAPTER NINE

London. A Few Days Later.

“You need to eat, Mia.” Mack lifted my head from the pillow and tipped a bowl of broth toward my mouth, but I refused to drink. Frustrated, he grumbled under his breath before placing the bowl on the nightstand. “Do you want King to put my head on a spike?”

I glared at his blue, puppy-dog eyes. “Don’t you have a plane to fly or something?” I tucked the covers tightly under my arms and closed the gap of my white robe. I felt so damned cold.

“Thanks to you, no, I don’t.” He swept his hand over his body to point out his outfit. He wore regular old khakis and a green-colored, Irish wool turtleneck, which meant he wasn’t flying today, I guessed.

“Not my fault King made you the official Mia-sitter.”