King for a Day

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King for a Day Page 14

by Mimi Jean Pamfiloff


  I think he sensed it, too, because when I began to squirm, telling my body not to do what it was doing, he made a quiet, deep groan. “This may be more difficult than I anticipated,” he said.

  Nothing could be harder than trying to relax in Vaughn’s basement while having your feet rubbed by a ghost who was about to kill you to prevent you from being tortured then killed.

  Of course, I was joking—sort of—but he grumbled with disapproval. “Try to focus on your breath.”

  And then what are you going to do, again?

  “It is something you’ve experienced before.”

  Which is?

  “I’m going to enter you.”

  My right eye popped open. “Excuse me?”

  He smiled with that charming, delicious, seductive smile that showed off the dimples in each cheek.

  Uh-uh. That smile doesn’t work on me. I sat up, placing us nose to nose.

  “I do not mean sex, if that is what you are thinking.”

  Then what had he meant?

  “I am going to…” He cleared his throat. “I am going to go inside you as I did that night in Edinburgh.”

  What? No!

  “There is no other way, Mia.”

  Way for what? To hurt me? Because that night in Edinburgh, I’d tasted the full force of King’s pain. It was like having crushed glass pumped into my veins. Besides, didn’t you say Vaughn took away all of your powers?

  “Some of my abilities cannot be removed. They come with the incorporeal-being package.” His beautiful dark brows furrowed, and he scratched his black stubble.

  Why do you always do that?

  “What?” he asked.

  Scratch your beard when I challenge you or make you have to think something over.

  “Do I?”

  I shouldn’t have told you I noticed. It’s how I know something is up with you.

  “Something is up. I cannot go inside you without sharing the pain of my curse. However, if I do not show you the truth, you will die with doubt in your heart. The ring will not function.”

  What do you want me to see?

  “My memories.”

  Can’t you just tell me what you want me to know?

  “Words can be faked. Memories cannot.”

  Not everyone remembers things the way they really happened anyway.

  “True. Everyone sees their own version of the truth; nevertheless, it is the only truth I know.”

  I can’t, King. It was too…

  “Horrifying.”

  I nodded.

  “It felt wonderful to me.”

  I looked at him and wondered…Why?

  “Because.” He straightened his spine. Suddenly, I saw a look in his eyes. It was a look I knew well. The angry look. The look he flashed when he was about to lose his temper. He grabbed my shoulders firmly and locked eyes with me. “I’m sorry, Mia, but there is no other way.”

  ~~

  When King filled my entire body, it felt like having razor blades coursing through my limbs. I wanted to scream. I wanted to cry out for him to stop, but I couldn’t move. Was this what it felt like to be possessed? Or did it hurt so badly because he was cursed?

  And Lord, there I was again, feeling sorry for him somewhere in the back of my mind. How could anyone live with such agony? Just a few moments of this was enough to drive any person insane. I wanted to claw at my own heart just to make it stop. And when I distinctly felt King trying to calm me, I wanted to claw at his back as Hagne had done. I hated him a thousand times more than I had ever hated anyone.

  How can you do this to me? I thought.

  Because I must, he replied.

  And as I mentally writhed in pain, I felt King’s energy penetrate the deepest corners of my soul. I tasted his pain. I saw nothing but purple light. When I felt him vibrate and rub against every cell of my body, I sensed the intense pleasure he experienced from being so intimate with me. It was better than sex for him. How I knew that was a bigger mystery than King himself, but I knew. He was in ecstasy.

  I growled at him inside my mind. How dare he enjoy this? How dare he!

  I felt a tingling sensation, as if King were petting the inside of my skin, trying to soothe me, trying to get me to simply accept the agony and move past it.

  Not helping! Lord, I hoped he could hear me. Petting the inside of my skin was quite possibly the most unsettling sensation I’d ever experienced. Apart from being possessed by a wealthy, seductive, deceased king, of course.

  The stroking ceased, and then I felt him moving around, digging inside my head. Was this really why he wanted to do this? He had done the same thing last time when we were in Edinburgh. He’d been looking for something inside me.

  I couldn’t tell how long the treasure hunt lasted or if he stopped because my mental screaming got to be too much, but he finally did.

  King? What are you doing?

  Try to relax, he said. His voice was more of a faint echo, rather than King’s voice.

  Then I felt a warm blanket of peace wrapping around my mind. Was I already dead?

  No. You’re not dead. Just be still, he commanded.

  Oh Lord. This was so horrifyingly weird.

  King seemed to settle down and relax into me.

  What’s happening? I asked.

  This…

  I stood in a small coliseum. The hot sun was high in the sky, beating down on my bare back, and the air was thick with the smell of sweat, ocean, and dirt. The roar of a crowd, sitting in tiered benches all around, deafened my ears. Men with swords waved them high in the air and screamed my name. “Draco. Draco. Draco!”

  “Please lay down your weapon, brother,” I begged. I knew that someone had poisoned Callias’s mind. There was no other reason he would challenge me for the throne. Because Callias was my blood. My twin. My most loyal friend. But someone had gotten to him, though I knew not who. Perhaps the gods despise you.

  But I had tried to be good to our people, to be fair and kind. I valiantly hid my true nature—vengeful, angry, and uncaring—because that was what my father showed me a good king did. Before he died, he taught me humility and discipline. He taught me how to be patient and gracious. But most importantly, he showed me how to leash my darker side and to exercise brutality and strength only when necessary.

  The crowd chanted my name over and over again. I knew that anyone who remained silent did so because they cheered for Callias. Fools. They had no idea. If it were not for my loyalty to my people, I would gladly have let Callias take my head because killing him would be the moment my life turned into a living hell of torment. Still, I had put all that aside. For them. I could not allow Callias to rule. Whatever wickedness had possessed him would make him a cruel, vindictive, tyrant of a king. I place duty first. I place my people first.

  “Callias, I plead with you one last time. Stop this foolishness.”

  A raised sword was his response.

  “So be it,” I whispered. “May the gods have mercy on my soul.”

  With every swing of my sword, my heart grew blacker, more outraged. I released my darkness, my anger, my ferocity, which I reserved for my greatest enemies. Callias fell quickly, and it was then that I realized who had poisoned my brother’s soul. The woman to whom I had given my heart, whom I’d loved and adored since we were children. And in that moment, I realized I would never be able to cage my fury. The monster had been released from its cage.

  I swung and watched my brother’s head fall to the dirt. When Hagne ran to Callias’s body and screamed in horror, the rage overtook me completely. This was her doing, and she dare cry?

  I curse you to taste Callias’s blood for eternity, Hagne. I scooped up the dirt as I said these words and made her eat from the destruction she created. You are darkness’s companion for all time, Hagne. You shall never know happiness; only death shall live within you. Hagne had destroyed the two people I cherished most in this world in one day.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  The pain fled my body,
and I drew a sobering breath. Then another. And another. I winced as I tried to move and became myself again. Yes, I was me. Mia.

  I rolled my head from side to side, searching. King? Are you there?

  No reply.

  Slowly, I managed to move my feet to the floor. My muscles were sore, and my head ached like a son of a bitch, only this time, I imagined it was because I had had someone digging around inside it.

  “King?” I pushed my weight over my wobbling knees and managed to make it to the doorway. Where was he?

  I stumbled to the next room and saw his limp body sprawled across the floor.

  I rushed to King’s side, but he was in the same catatonic state as when I first saw him earlier. No breath. No movement. But warm and beautiful.

  “Hello, Miss Turner. Are you enjoying your stay?”

  I flinched and looked up at the slimy cretin, wearing a horrible green suit, occupying the doorway.

  “Immensely. Thanks, Vaughn.”

  He smiled with those slithery, thin lips that reminded me of a snake about to unhinge its jaw. “He will wake up in a few hours. I didn’t want us to be disturbed.”

  Shit. King. Wake up. For God’s sake, wake up.

  Not a twitch.

  “What did you do to him?” I asked.

  Vaughn flicked his wrist. “King isn’t the only one who dabbles in the arts.”

  I assumed he meant dark arts, but whatever. I had to think quickly because whatever Vaughn planned to do, it wasn’t good. Maybe I should have let King kill me when he had the chance.

  “How’s the dinner party?” I asked, trying to buy time.

  “Very well. Right now the guests are enjoying their dessert: five women I acquired from the Philippines. Today is each of the women’s eighteenth birthdays.

  I resisted letting the rage cloud my mind. He is sick, Mia. And he will pay.

  “Wow. Well, don’t let me keep you from your fun.”

  “My fun is right here.” He lifted his brows.

  “Ummm… Well, I’d rather die than allow you to touch me. So if you want the big moment to happen now, so be it. I think your ticket holders will be pissed off.”

  “You think I cannot subdue you? King is passed out on the floor, is he not?”

  “King is gone,” I lied, hoping he’d leave or change his focus to something else. Anything. “He took off hours ago.”

  Vaughn shook his head and slipped a creepy pair of yellow glasses from his pants. He gazed down at the spot where King lay and then snickered. “Nice try, Miss Turner.”

  Okay. Vaughn has scary ghost glasses. I’m officially impressed by his preparedness.

  Vaughn’s gaze focused on my breasts. “Ummm…I think I would like to start right there. They look juicy.” He licked his crusty pale lips.

  Oh my God, King. Wake up. Wake up.

  “I’ll tear off your balls if you touch me, Vaughn. And subduing me won’t be any fun since I know you don’t get off unless they scream.”

  “Right you are.” He laughed, and his decrepit gaze moved down to my groin. “Perhaps I can persuade you to have a different kind of fun with me. I’m willing to barter. What would you like? Perhaps a good-bye video for your family?”

  Oh no. Think, Mia. Think. Get him to leave. The only thing that popped in my head was to distract him with something more important. Maybe the Artifact?

  “I have a question for you, Vaughn. Why in the world did you waste your time going after King when you had the Artifact?”

  “Please, call me Milton. After all, you and I are going to become quite intimate. Might I say, the most intimate you’ve ever been with a man.”

  On the outside, I held my expression of indifference. I didn’t want to give Vaughn the satisfaction he was looking for. On the inside, however, I felt my intestines twist into painful knots.

  I smiled casually. “All right, Milton.” Psycho. “Why did you give up the Artifact? I hear you’re a collector of sorts.” I didn’t know if he’d given it up, but I wanted to find out.

  “Who says I don’t have it?”

  “Because, if you did, you wouldn’t be wasting your time with something as mundane as us.”

  “Nice try, Miss Turner. But the Artifact is a worthless rock.”

  “Who told you that?” I said as if he were the stupidest man on the planet.

  “Your brother.”

  Justin lied to Vaughn? Why? Because Justin knew it wasn’t worthless. He’d told me himself. In any case, I didn’t want Vaughn finding out that Justin had deceived him.

  I made a quick shift in my strategy. “How would Justin know what he had? He’s an archaeologist. He knows bones and artifacts. Not magic.”

  “And you do?”

  I hesitated. What would be the repercussions of telling him I was a Seer? But I needed to sell the story. I needed Vaughn to go chase another shiny squirrel and leave me the hell alone.

  I rolled the dice. “I am a Seer of Light.”

  Vaughn’s eyes widened, and he laughed hysterically. “You. A Seer? Those are mystical creatures from the days of the Minoans.” His smile faded away into a cold stare. “They’re fucking unicorns. They don’t exist.”

  Minoans. I didn’t know anything about that culture, but why did everyone always bring up unicorns? “If you don’t believe me, give me a test.”

  He jostled his head from side to side, thinking. “Yes! An excellent idea. You can provide the after-dinner entertainment.”

  “Sorry?” I said.

  He scratched at a little scab or dry piece of skin stuck behind his ear. “My guests can play a game with you. Of course, you cannot go dressed like that. That would be preposterous. You may wear the outfit we procured for your special night tomorrow.”

  Oh Lord. I’d meant a test down there in the basement. But now he wanted me to go and meet his sick friends? Maybe someone will help you. Or you’ll find a way to escape.

  “Come, Miss Turner.” He waved at me to follow. “We will get you showered and changed.”

  I glanced down at King’s immobile body.

  “He’ll be fine. Not like the man is going to die.” Vaughn snorted. “Although, I would not care if he did.”

  “Then why did you want him?” I couldn’t resist asking.

  Vaughn shook his finger, and sheer insanity sparkled in his eyes. “A promise is a promise. And I promised King he would get to watch your special event tomorrow.”

  Vaughn was absolutely insane.

  “Come, come now, my little Seer.” He laughed.

  I followed Vaughn down the corridor, where he unlocked the gate. I noticed he placed the key in his coat pocket. Maybe I’d be able to get a hold of it and escape.

  He made his way up the flight of stairs as I followed along, taking mental note of everything around me.

  “Now, if you have any notions of running, Miss Turner, I will advise you that we are on an island. So unless you’re a good swimmer, I would scratch that idea.”

  “An island where?” We made it to a small landing that had another iron gate.

  “Oh, I’m sorry, but question time is over.” He chuckled once again as he opened the gate.

  He didn’t want to tell me where we were. And given how long we’d flown, we could be almost anywhere.

  Vaughn opened the door at the top of the last flight of stairs. Bright light poured into the dark stairwell, and a wave of warm tropical air rushed at my face.

  “Hurry now, Miss Turner. This way. We must get you bathed and dressed quickly. Wouldn’t want our guests to wait.”

  My stomach felt like a meat grinder turning on itself. I hoped he wasn’t going to watch me shower or dress. As long as he doesn’t touch you, that’s all that matters. “Lead the way, Milton.”

  We stepped into his large, modern kitchen that looked more like a bustling restaurant. Several chefs in tall white hats, tuxedo-clad servers rushing in and out with trays, and enough delicious-looking food to feed an army. Again, my stomach churned. I was starving, and t
he smell of warm, fresh bread only made it worse.

  I looked at the people shuffling around the kitchen and wondered if they’d help me.

  Vaughn clapped his hands, and everyone looked up from whatever they were doing. “Everyone. This is Miss Turner. If you see her wandering away on her own, be sure to shoot her. Or stab her. I will make it worth your while.”

  With expressionless faces, the chefs and servers glanced at me, nodded, and went back to their work.

  Vaughn grinned, rapidly blinking his beady, haze-filled, brown eyes. “You see, Miss Turner, they work for me. Nowhere to run.”

  I wondered how on earth he got these people to obey him like that. My guess was that he either paid them extremely well and they had no morals or he had some sort of leverage over them—maybe holding their families hostage?

  We made our way through the kitchen and up a set of blond hardwood stairs. Black-and-white photos of people in bondage hung on the white walls.

  “Nice decorating,” I said.

  “I took those myself. However, they are not my favorites. Would you like to see the rest?”

  “No. Not really.” I knew his favorites would be something out of my worst nightmares.

  “Excellent. Then I shall show you.” He laughed again and then coughed up a giant phlegm ball.

  I shook my head. He was mad. Mad and sick and vile.

  We made our way up the stairs and down another corridor of bedrooms. Though it was nighttime, I noted the huge skylights above and more pristine blond hardwood floors. It was funny how his home looked so bright, modern, and cheery. The exact opposite of the man.

  At the end of the hall, Vaughn unlocked a door and pushed it open. “Come. I will show you my prized collection.”

  Oh Lord. I didn’t want to see anything having to do with Vaughn’s hobby of skinning people alive.

  “Now, Miss Turner.” He tapped the watch on his wrist.

  I took a breath and marched forward.

  The bedroom was large with a sprawling king-sized bed and huge glass windows with a door that led to a patio. The faint sound of crashing waves filtered into the room.

 

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