King’s (The King Trilogy #1)(41)
Author: Mimi Jean Pamfiloff

– K

I blew out a breath and mentally chewed. Basically, it sounded like I’d be going to a party of Kings. Lots and lots of mean, dangerous, civilized-only-on-the-outside Kings.

“This ought to be fun,” I mumbled to myself. I grabbed the dress and headed to the bathroom. The dress fit my frame like a glove, as if it had been hand-sewn for my curvy body, right down to the way it pushed up my br**sts. King had even managed to procure a pair of slinky red Valentino heels to go with it. Yeah, they fit perfectly, too. Yeah, it creeped me out.

My hair was its usual challenge, so instead of trying to tame the blonde beast, I teased it out a little to give it that wild bohemian look. After throwing on some red lipstick and covering up the circles under my eyes, I had to admit, I didn’t look half bad for someone that had been through what I had in only seven days.

I shook my head in the mirror and braced myself on the sink. Seven days. Had it really only been seven days? I’d been detained and threatened in Mexico, tattooed by some eccentric, medieval billionaire—King—discovered I had a sixth sense, seen a ghost and a dead body, been taken to London, almost stolen by a serial killer who trafficked humans, saw King kill two guys, ran off to Edinburgh, saw another dead body, and had basically lost all hope I’d ever find my brother. “You’re still standing, girl. Don’t you forget it.” And when this was all over, because there was no way in hell I would stay with King forever, I’d write a damned book about this nightmare. Fiction, of course.

I stepped out of the bathroom and ran right into Mack. His normally disheveled hair was combed back, and he wore a very expensive-looking tuxedo. The man looked frigging gorgeous.

He stilled, and his eyes swept over my body—head to toe and back again. He swallowed. “You look, uhhh—nice.”

I swallowed, too. “You clean up pretty well, yourself.”

A bit of playfulness flickered in his blue eyes. “If you like this, just wait until you see me tune up the jet’s engine. Grease monkey is my best look.”

I smiled. I liked this version of Mack.

“I’m glad you’re not mad at me anymore, Mack.”

“No worries. I have a temper, but I get over things quickly. I’m not big on grudges.”

“Is that what happened to your face? Your temper?” Mack still had that bruise on his cheek, obviously.

“King and I had a little disagreement over who should retrieve you after you took off in London. He won.”

That made me feel like complete crap. “I’m really sorry, Mack. I didn’t mean to cause you problems. I was afraid. I still am.”

He stared at me for a quiet moment and then shook his head. “I, uh,” he forced himself back to Serious Mack, “just wanted to tell you we’ll be landing soon. Time to strap in.”

“Thanks. I’m all ready to go.”

“Read the letter?” he asked.

“Yep. I am to be seen and not heard.”

His eyes swept over my body once again. Then he shook his head.

“What?” I asked.

Mack’s eyes flashed to my cle**age. “I don’t know what the hell King was thinking putting you in that dress. That’s like marinating you in blood, then dropping you in a shark tank.”

Dammit. I knew going to this party was a mistake. “I thought I’d be safe with you.”

“You’ll be safe, but it’s just going to take me a hell of a lot more effort.”

“But you were some sort of assassin type, special-forces-whatever, right?” Honestly, I knew nothing about the military other than the basics: army, navy, air force, and marines.

“I was a navy fighter pilot for a few years. Then I moved to a special assignment. I don’t like to talk about it.”

That last part of his comment made me wonder why. Maybe something bad happened to him.

Mack looked me over again. “Sometimes I think King does this sort of shit just because he likes to keep me on my toes.”

“Ya think?” I smiled. It was funny to hear Mack call King on his BS antics. And it was good to know I wasn’t the only one who objected.

“Yeah. I think.” He glanced over his shoulder. “I gotta land the plane. Just try to relax tonight and…” He scratched his unshaved chin with a day’s worth of golden-brown growth.

“What?”

“And don’t f**k it up.”

I watched his elegantly dressed, broad back disappear into the cockpit. “Thanks.”

Within the hour, Mack and I were down on the ground and into a black stretch limo. I felt like we were living on some twisted reality show where everything looked like a spectacular Cinderella-like dream on the outside, when really, it was the story of Dante’s Inferno.

“So, where are we going?” I asked.

“Bel Air.”

I hadn’t been to Bel Air, but I knew it had the most expensive homes in L.A. Who hadn’t watched The Fresh Prince? “And who’s throwing the party?”

“The host is more or less the president of 10 Club.”

They had a president?

“Only,” Mack added, “no one holds any allegiance to him. This is pretty much his only function.”

“Having a party?” I asked.

“Consider this like a swap meet.”

Now I was lost.

“I thought this was a party,” I said.

“It looks like a party, but really, it’s an annual event where people of like interests barter for things they need. It’s also an excuse to get together, check out any new members.”

My mind started to add up all of those tiny crumbs that had been left in my bed, digging under my skin. Vaughn and King trying to barter for me and the Artifact. King mentioning he collected “things” and acquired certain “abilities.” The strange secretiveness. And the bizarre code of ethics King seemed to live by—thou shall obey me, I am your master, etc. It was like he didn’t live in this world, but in some uber-wealthy alternate reality.

“10 Club isn’t just a club for billionaires,” I realized aloud.

Mack nodded. “So King told you?”

“No, not exactly. I’m just figuring it out.”

“I heard you’re good at that,” Mack said.

“That and running away, getting myself knee-deep in shit I don’t understand, and occasionally hanging with people I shouldn’t.”

He chuckled. “How about following people you shouldn’t? Is it true? Did you really follow King the first day you two met?” he asked.