King’s (The King Trilogy #1)(22)
Author: Mimi Jean Pamfiloff

Mack shook his head. “It is, and you know it.”

Okay. Maybe it was. When I woke up a few days ago with no recollection of traveling to this posh London hotel with a view of the marble arch, I was sicker than a dog on a teacup ride. King had said it was a side effect of my “gift,” but that didn’t matter. I had jumped from the bed and, apparently, tried to kill him with my bare hands. I don’t remember the incident, but according to Mack, I told King I would slice off his balls with a rusty hacksaw if I ever saw him again. I guess that’s when I told him to get Mack, the only person I could stand to look at without vomiting and who King would trust my care to.

I shrugged. “Maybe. But why the hell are we even here? Did King find a record of Justin getting on a flight?”

“No.” Mack shook his head. “Would you just eat?”

“I’m not hungry.” I still felt like I had the stomach flu. I’d been able to hold down water and juice. That was it.

“You’ll feel better once you eat something.”

As if feeling better is even possible. The crazy crap I’d seen in Palenque guaranteed I wouldn’t.

I scoffed and looked away. “Is that what King told you?”

“No. It’s basic biology. Your body needs food.” He let loose a throaty grumble. “Mia, I fully understand why you’re upset; however, may I share something with you?”

I knew Mack wasn’t my friend, but there was something about him that made me want to trust him.

“Are you going to tell me who King really is or what he did to me?” I asked.

Mack shoved his fingers through his disheveled blond hair. “No. King will tell you what you need to know. And to be frank, I don’t know as much as you think. I just know he’s—”

“What? Satan? A vampire who walks in daylight?”

“No. But,” he gave me a disapproving look, “Satan? Vampires? How old are you, eight?”

Who could blame me for reaching towards the impossible in search of answers? The things I’d seen, the things I’d felt—there were no logical explanations. “King practically asked for my soul in exchange for finding my brother. Which he still hasn’t done.”

“Why do you think he brought you to London, Mia?” Mack stood up. “The sooner you start eating, the sooner you’ll be able to resume the search. But King made it clear that you’re not leaving this room until you’ve straightened out. He doesn’t want you getting hurt.”

King didn’t care about me, so why would Mack say that? And it hadn’t gotten past me that Mack had done the old switcheroo and changed topics.

“Can you at least tell me, is he dangerous?”

Mack coughed out a laugh. “What the hell do you think?”

I nodded.

“Then you’d be right. So, are you going to eat?”

“Is that why you really work for him? Not hungry,” I said.

“I work for him because I made a deal. You should eat so you’ll get back your strength. And stop acting like a child; this isn’t a game.”

“What’s with King and deals? Is he Monty Hall? Did he brand you, too? I’m not acting like a child, but you two are treating me like one. I’m. Not. Hungry. And can we stop having two conversations?”

“I can see you’re going to be trouble. God help King.”

“God help me.”

Mack chuckled. “I’ll be back in a few; I’ve got to take care of some paperwork at the airport. Do not leave this room, Mia, or you’ll feel the wrath of two dangerous men.”

Nice. “See ya.”

I watched Mack leave the room with a little bounce in his step. He seemed like a happy, content-with-his-life sort of guy without any romance-deterring baggage. He was boyishly handsome and confident. He looked pretty damned tough—physically anyway—and he flew planes. What the hell was he doing messed up in all this and working for King?

King.

I didn’t want to feel those butterflies deep in my stomach when I thought about the man, but I couldn’t help it. Don’t get me wrong. They weren’t the swoon breed, but the nervous, angry, froth at the mouth sort of butterflies.

Yes, rabid, crazed, angry butterflies of death and destruction. At least, that’s what I told myself. In all honesty, I questioned how any part of me, even a tiny part that only came out when I felt intoxicated, could have any romantic feelings for a man like King. For that to happen, there’d have to be something good inside him, some redeeming quality that I felt attracted to.

Maybe there’s just something wrong with you.

I slid lethargically from the bed and wandered to the window for another look at the arch. It was evening now, and the sun was just setting. London was actually a lovely city. Why had I never noticed? I’d been there about ten times, but always for business. Airport. Hotel. Office. Restaurant. Hotel. Office. Airport. That was my usual itinerary. I’d never stopped to see Big Ben, Buckingham Palace, or the Natural History Museum. Come to think of it, I was the most traveled person I knew, yet I’d never been anywhere worth talking about or remembering with a photo. I’d been too focused on work and climbing the ladder.

What a waste. I shook my head, trying not to think about what happened in Mexico or how short life was. Those poor, poor men. Who would want to end their lives?

“Feeling better, I see?”

I swiveled to find King standing in all his usual, seductive-and-imposing glory. He wore a thin, black sweater and tailored black pants that hugged every powerful muscle. His hair was neatly combed back behind his ears, and his ashen eyes glimmered from the black frames of his lashes.

I sighed and looked back out the window. “You’re like a goddamned ghost, King. And don’t you know how to knock?”

“Knocking is for people with manners,” he replied. “I don’t have time for pretenses.”

“Nice,” I grumbled.

“‘Nice’ is also a f**king waste of time, as is your childish pouting. We have a missing person and an artifact to find.”

Childish pouting? I shot him a look. “You did something to me, King. You made me sick. You made me see…” I couldn’t say it. Just like I couldn’t say that I’d asked him to kiss me, and I seemed to remember liking it when he had. I hoped to hell he never brought it up again.

“See the dead?” He gestured toward the sitting area in the corner. “Let us discuss that.”