King for a Day

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King for a Day Page 3

by Mimi Jean Pamfiloff


  Oh. That was more like it. King wasn’t one to sit around gushing with words of adoration. That said, I thought it was a bit strange King spoke of me at all. He wasn’t a conversationalist.

  “What else did King say?” I asked.

  Mack shook his head. “We’d be here all night.” He pointed up the stairs toward the darkened room. “But if we survive this, I’ll tell you anything you want to know.”

  “Promise?” I asked.

  Mack held up his hand. “King’s honor.”

  “Cute. I’m sure…” I forgot what I was about to say. The colors began popping all around me, swirling over the stairs, ceiling, and walls. This entire building had been coated in some sort of bad energy, probably to warn people away, but the energy up on the third floor felt much different, intense.

  “Do you see anything up there?” Mack asked. What he meant was if I could see anything with my gift.

  “Lots and lots of colors, but nothing in particular.” I flashed a worried look at Mack. “Should we keep going?”

  Mack drew in a quick breath. “It’s now or never.”

  Following closely behind, I dug my phone from my pocket again and turned on the flashlight app. The moment we got to the top of the stairs, I shined it toward the dark room, but the space was far too large to see anything.

  Mack reached to the side and began searching for a light switch. “There.” He flipped the switch, and I braced for an explosion or flying, spring-loaded daggers or something. But nothing happened. In fact…

  “I don’t get it,” I whispered, staring at a big empty room equal in size to the ones below us, but with a much lower ceiling. There was absolutely nothing aside from the cement floors, undressed windows, and a few industrial lights hanging overhead.

  “Neither do I,” Mack agreed.

  I scratched my head. “Why is King’s entire warehouse coated with colors, but this place looks like it’s been wiped clean?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “It’s spotless. Not a splash of color.” I blew out a breath. “Am I missing something? Something King wanted me to find?”

  “Speaking of find, how did you find this place?” Mack asked suddenly. “King only brings people he trusts here.”

  Jeez. Thanks. “Then why did Talia show up?”

  Mack raised a brow. “She and King used to have a relationship.”

  I felt my blood thicken. “He lied to me. He said he had better standards than that.”

  Mack chuckled. “You’re jealous.”

  “No, I’m not.” Maybe. “But why would he lie?”

  “I don’t think King ever slept with her; they were partners for a while. That doesn’t mean, however, that Talia didn’t try for years to hook the guy. But you never answered my question. How did you find out about this place?”

  “I found a key in King’s office. It was taped under the desk with this.” I slipped the card from my jeans pocket and gave it to him.

  Mack inspected it. “Did you check out slot ninety-two?” He pointed to the card. I’d forgotten that there was a number scribbled in the corner. “King has me retrieve things from here all the time. Each item is assigned a number. Ninety-two is on the second floor.”

  He turned right around and headed downstairs. I hesitated to follow. I didn’t want to go back down there with the heads and weird flowers and other crazy crap that gave me a headache. It was quiet up here.

  “Mia? Are you coming?” Mack asked.

  I shook my head. “I think I’ll stay here.”

  He looked at me, slightly shocked. “You’re afraid? You?”

  I grimaced. “A little, yes.”

  He flashed one of those disarming, goofy smiles. “I promise you’re safe with me. Alone up here, however…”

  I looked over my shoulder. All right. Maybe it was a bit creepy up there. I sucked in some air and reluctantly followed.

  Once back downstairs on the second floor, Mack headed straight to the far, right-hand-side aisle where the objects were so densely packed in some spots that I was sure we’d never find anything.

  “Where are the numbers? How do you know where to look?” I asked.

  “It’s a little tricky. King keeps items ordered by numbers and grouped by their powers or function. The numbers usually start in the northeast corner of each floor. Right here.” He pointed to the first item on the top of the first rack.

  He began counting objects, passing several dusty crates and boxes. He stopped right at the middle of the aisle. “Ninety-two.”

  “Are you afraid of those traps?” I asked.

  Mack looked at me. “I have…” he scratched his scruffy, gold-whiskered chin, “a sort of immunity. Think of it like King has a guard dog watching over this place. Only the dog is a spell that recognizes people.” Mack shrugged.

  Okay. Weird.

  “Do you think I’m immune, too?” I asked.

  “Yeah, probably,” he replied casually. “But you still want to be careful touching stuff around here. Some of these things are dangerous.”

  Mack always acted so nonchalant about everything. It completely boggled my mind.

  He walked over to the corner, grabbed a rickety wooden ladder, and set it against the steel rack. I held the bottom and cringed as it creaked under Mack’s weight.

  “Careful,” I said.

  Mack flashed me a look that indicated the freaking ladder was the last thing to be worrying about.

  About halfway up, he began digging through a pile of small boxes. “Here it is.”

  He lowered himself and held out a small, red velvet box.

  I looked at his hand. “What is it?”

  “I have no idea, but it has your name on the tag.”

  “Really?” I took the box and read the small paper tag. My name was written clearly on one side.

  How odd. What could it possibly be? I opened it and wished I hadn’t. It looked just like the diamond I’d been drooling over only minutes before.

  “Uhhh…uhhh…” I looked into Mack’s seriously confused eyes. “I’m sure this isn’t what you think.”

  “It looks like a huge rock,” he said blandly, “the kind women wear as engagement rings.”

  “Yeah, I get that, but we are not in a relationship. I mean, we almost…” I snapped my mouth shut.

  Mack crossed his arms. “Almost what?”

  I sighed. How could I explain this to Mack in a way that would make sense? I mean, King possessed an irresistible, seductive charm along with raw sexual appeal. I couldn’t have been the first woman to hate him and want him.

  And hate him some more.

  After wanting him just a little more.

  And feeling disgusted with myself for it.

  “Don’t be so judgy,” I said. “Emotions were high—things got out of hand—but we stopped.” Actually, I stopped King the moment he said that sex would be my punishment for disobeying him. It was a disturbingly dark and twisted thing to say—shocked the urges right out of me. But a few days later, when he came to the hospital to help my comatose mother after she’d had a stroke, King allowed me to catch a glimpse of the real him. Reds and blues, the colors of pain and sorrow, violently encircled his anguished body, creating a cloud so thick that they blended into a deep purple. I could taste the pain inside his soul, and it was then that I knew when he shared his real self, he had to share his anguish. It was a part of him. I think that was why he considered having sex with him a “punishment.” I wasn’t sure. The only thing I knew for certain was that King was a complex creature, motivated by his suffering, driven toward one final goal, though I didn’t know what that was.

  “I think,” I mumbled, “that King never does anything without a reason. But I know getting engaged isn’t on his list of to-dos.”

  Mack lifted his brows.

  “Come on,” I chided. “We’re talking about King. Do you honestly think he’s the type to give a girl an engagement ring? Especially me?” Not that I had a clue as to why he’d give me a rin
g at all. But with King, I suspected there was an ulterior motive. One that would be revealed when King was damn good and ready.

  Mack gave me a strange look and then glanced at his watch. “We have twenty-three hours.”

  “Did you just sidestep my question?” I felt like he was hiding something from me. Then again, I felt that way about everyone in King’s world.

  “That wasn’t a sidestep; that was me remembering we’re screwed.”

  I shot him a look. “Nice.” I didn’t need to hear words of defeat in this moment. What I needed was a way out. “Did King keep a list of his deals or anything?”

  Mack shook his head. “He always called with instructions—pick up, drop off, go see so-and-so. I never saw a list.”

  “Talia said that there were specific deals King had to fulfill or he’d forfeit his assets. Does that mean other members reported him?”

  “Probably, but only after being forced into it by Vaughn.”

  “Can we find out who?” I asked.

  Mack scratched his chin again. “Maybe. But what are you implying?”

  “That we are going to fulfill King’s obligations?” I said sheepishly.

  “No.”

  “Do you see any other option?” It wasn’t as if there was anything in his warehouse that would help us find King, which once again left me wondering why King wanted me to find the place. If that had been his intent.

  “Mia, you have no idea of what King really does. It’s not like the man is swapping recipes. These are serious people, sick people, ruthless people who would slit your throat for looking at them the wrong way. And the shit King does for them is sometimes,” he paused, “you don’t want to know.”

  How bad could it be? “Oh no. Does King…traffic women, too?”

  “No.” Mack looked offended. “And before you ask, anything having to do with minors is off limits. The Club members, thankfully, consider it unsportsmanlike to go after such easy acquisitions.” It was a relief, actually. I wasn’t sure how low they went. “And anyone who is ‘acquired’ or part of a deal has to come willingly; there must be an offer and an acceptance.”

  The only sad part was that the non-member generally had no clue what they were getting into.

  “Is that another rule?” I asked.

  “More like an unspoken policy. They won’t lower themselves to doing things that are perceived as stealing; it degrades the tradition of 10 Club.”

  Degrades? That was funny, given that these people couldn’t possibly get much lower. No, they weren’t pedophiles, but their sanction of murder, torture of women, and enslavement of people practically landed them in the same boat.

  Okay. So what else? What could King be up to that I couldn’t handle? “What’s the worst thing you’ve seen King do?”

  Mack stared at me. I could tell he was debating whether to answer. “He’s killed people.”

  “That I already knew.” I’d basically seen King kill two guys who’d threatened us. They were Vaughn’s.

  “Did you see the heads?” he asked.

  I nodded.

  “King put them in those jars.” Mack swallowed. “They’re still alive.”

  My eyes popped out of my head. “Jesus. You can’t be serious.”

  “That’s what I’m talking about, Mia. King isn’t just trading things; he sells his services. Those men did something to piss someone off. That someone hired King to bring back their heads. He did.”

  “In fucking jars? Still alive? How’s that even possible?”

  Mack shrugged. “I gave up asking ‘how’ a long, long time ago. As for the why, he’d said those two men did something that required a few decades of suffering. Whoever hired him didn’t want the heads lying around, so they asked King to hold on to them.”

  Holy Christ. I knew that King was powerful. And dark. But this was pretty bad. Despite all that, however, what choice did we have but to attempt to fulfill King’s obligations? If we came across something we weren’t able to do, then that was that. But we had to try.

  “We need to get the list,” I said. “Don’t you know anyone that owes you a favor?”

  Mack ran his hands through his hair, clearly mulling over the situation. “We can’t let anyone know King is AWOL. Otherwise, the members won’t accept the debts as being paid by King. They’ll see it as cheating. Our cheating.”

  Ridiculous! Why would it matter who paid the debt, just as long as it was paid? These people were so frigging bizarre.

  “And we’ll need to find him before anyone realizes the truth,” Mack added.

  Well, likely Vaughn had him, though we weren’t one hundred percent sure. But if we were right, it wasn’t like Vaughn would just stick King in the guest bedroom at his L.A. mansion.

  I sighed, thinking it over. “I’m going to the hospital to talk to Justin.” My mother was still under observation after her stroke, and we’d all been taking turns staying with her; I might find my brother there now. Maybe he knew something but was too afraid to say.

  “Come straight here when you’re done,” Mack said. “I’ll be back in a few hours.”

  “Where are you going?”

  “To see a friend.”

  “Friend got a name?” I asked.

  “Yes. But they’re a Club member, and if they decide to help us, they won’t want anyone to know.”

  Okay…I had no choice but to trust he knew what he was doing.

  It then struck me as odd. A couple of weeks ago, I wouldn’t have dared trust Mack—not this much, anyway. But now he felt like my savior. I’d trust him with my life.

  “Please be careful,” I said. “I don’t know what I’d do if anything happened to you.”

  “Awww. Isn’t that sweet.” Mack turned to leave.

  “By the way, what happened to Arno?” Arno was King’s chauffeur, who always appeared mysteriously driving a black SUV. It didn’t matter which country. It was unsettling.

  “I’m sure he’s gone into hiding. He knows the drill.”

  “Drill?” I asked.

  “King gave us very specific instructions of what to do should anything ever happen.”

  “What were your instructions?”

  Mack smiled. “Not to come looking, and to get the hell away from here.” He disappeared down the stairs.

  I supposed that, like me, Mack had a strange loyalty to King. Then I wondered how evil King could really be if two good people saw enough redeeming qualities in the man to care about him.

  Maybe we are King’s redeeming qualities.

  I looked back down at the ring in my hand and noticed it had an unusual shimmer to it, just like the one in that crown. But what did I know about diamonds other than this one was huge? And King wanted me to find it. There was no way any of this was a coincidence. I knew that for sure now. The little card that came with the key had the number ninety-two written on it.

  Why does this all feel so contrived? Like we were rats being herded into a labyrinth. In any case, we didn’t have much choice but to push forward and hope that a slice of cheese awaited us.

  I shoved the ring deep into my jeans pocket and glanced at my watch. Quarter to eight already? Where in the hell are you, King?

  CHAPTER THREE

  8:00 P.M.

  When I arrived at my mother’s flower-filled hospital room, I was thrilled to see her sitting up, laughing with my father and brother, watching something on TV. In fact, seeing them really made me hit pause and take a moment. Everyone was together, safe and alive. Happy. Well, almost everyone. I tried not to think about how, by this time tomorrow, things might be different. I might be out of their lives forever.

  What would that do to my mother’s health? What would that do to my father? Christ. I couldn’t believe this. About six weeks ago, when Justin went on the run from Vaughn and disappeared, I’d been sick to my stomach, worrying how it might impact everyone. Now, my life was on the line, threatening everyone’s happiness.

  Well, better me than Justin. I couldn’t stand the
thought of anything happening to my baby brother.

  “Mia!” My mother’s powder-blue eyes lit up when she caught sight of me in the doorway.

  “Hey there.” I made a little wave. “Nice to see you’re feeling better.” I moved to the foot of her bed. “Only one more day and you’re out, right?”

  She rolled her eyes. “Yes. But your father says he’s not going to let me do any shopping, and the holidays are coming soon.” An image of them sitting around the table at Christmas dinner without me popped into my head. It felt like a knife in my heart. It would just kill them if I didn’t fix this.

  I swallowed the sadness building in my chest.

  “Something wrong, sweetie?” my mother asked.

  I forced my mouth into a smile. “No. I’m happy, that’s all.” I looked at Justin, who wore black jeans and a sweatshirt. We had the same wavy blond hair, only his was pretty short. Mine was cut into a shoulder-length bob. I’d also had it highlighted a few months ago and hadn’t gone for a touch-up, so the color was growing out in a sad kind of way. I guess after everything that had happened recently, it didn’t seem important.

  “Can I talk to you, Justin? Outside?”

  His eyes shifted a bit. “Sure.”

  I smiled at my parents. “It’s a little surprise we’re working on.”

  He followed me out through the waiting area into the stairwell. “What surprise?”

  I turned and looked at him, trying my best not to flip out. “King is missing. You have to tell me what you know.”

  He didn’t seem at all shocked, which meant I’d been right. He did know something. Nevertheless, he said, “I don’t know anything. I already told you.”

  “Tell me again, Justin,” I growled. “Because I’m in serious shit. If I don’t find King, 10 Club is going to confiscate his property. All of it.”

  I hadn’t shown Justin my tattoo. In fact, I’d been wearing mostly long-sleeved clothes to cover it up. I hadn’t decided what to do when summer finally rolled around. Now, I guess I might not have to worry.

  “Look.” I pulled back the sleeve of my red sweater. “I’m his property, Justin. Me.”

  Justin’s green eyes widened. “Fuck! Mia. Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “What would I say? That I agreed to be some crazy, rich guy’s assistant for the rest of my life to save you? What good would that do?”

 

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