King for a Day

by Mimi Jean Pamfiloff

  Hi. Nice of you to join me. You missed all the fun, I said to him.

  “Ummm…I bet.” King slowly sat up on the cement floor. “That fucking Vaughn. I’m going to find out how he knocks me out, learn how to counter it, and then beat the crap out of him.” He looked over at me in my short leather dress and red heels. His initial pleasure quickly soured. “What the hell are you wearing, Miss Turner?”

  I just loved how he used my last name when he wanted to make a point or remind me of his position above me—his perceived position above me.

  I shrugged. “Like I said. Fun. So much fun. Did you know he has drug lords upstairs with eighteen-year-old girls? He’s going to kill one just for kicks.”

  “He’ll probably kill them all,” he said casually and ran his hands through his hair.

  “Let me guess. You don’t care. What is wrong with all of you Club people? Do they ask you to check your souls at the door when you sign up?”

  King shook his head and stared ahead at the wall. “The women shouldn’t have made a deal with the devil.”

  “They’re girls, King. Probably from poor families.” I huffed. “You know what? You want me to trust you, don’t say crap like that. Say something compassionate, even if you have to fake it.”

  “Stop speaking aloud. Vaughn can hear you. And I cannot change who I am, Miss Turner. Any more than you can.”

  Find a way, King. Because that bullshit you pulled earlier, jumping into my body, did nothing but undermine what little trust we were building. Yes, I knew why he’d done it, but he’d forced his way inside my body. Forced. And it made me feel…well, pissed off, frankly.

  “We don’t have time for your fretting, Miss Turner. The clock is ticking, and I had to show you the truth.”

  I stood and looked down at him. That’s fucking right. The clock is ticking. And Vaughn can knock you out anytime he likes. Do you know what he wanted to do to me? He wanted a little pregame warm-up, King. I had to tell him that I’m a Seer. I had to tell him about the Artifact just to distract him from doing God only knows what to me. Then he made me play lookie-see with the narcos while using five eighteen-year-old girls as the betting chips if I guessed wrong about whatever crap was going on with their lives. All the while, I kept calling for you, knowing that even if you answered, there was nothing you could do because you’re trapped down here. So, I’m very sorry that my ‘fretting’ is annoying you, but don’t you think I deserve just a little bit of your patience here given that you’re asking me to let you end my life?

  King looked up at my face with a wicked scowl; then his eyes moved south. “Why aren’t you wearing underwear?”

  Crap. He could see everything from that angle on the floor. I stepped back and pinched the edge of my nose. “Well, I hope you enjoyed the show because that’s all you’re getting from me.”

  King popped up from the floor faster than I could process with my brain. I jumped back and yelped.

  “Don’t do that, King! You scared the crap out of me.”

  King gripped my wrist. “You belong to me, Mia. So you will answer when I ask a question.”

  I yanked my wrist away, and he seemed shocked as hell. I guess I was, too. His effort to subdue me had failed. Maybe I wasn’t as weak as I thought.

  King stared down with those piercing gray eyes. “Answer my question. Why do you have nothing underneath your dress? Did Vaughn touch you?”

  No. But he made it clear he will. And I don’t think he’ll wait until the big event.

  He rubbed his strong jaw, and it relaxed a bit. “Why did you tell him you were a Seer?”

  I thought it would make me more valuable to him, and he’d forget about killing me.

  “That is what a rational person might do. He is not rational. He is mad. Which is why I’ll never allow him to have you.” King’s expression had a peculiar look I couldn’t interpret. His aura, or energy, or whatever it was called, flashed green for a moment.

  Strange.

  “What is strange?” he asked.

  Nothing, it’s not important. Because, at any moment, Vaughn might return for me.

  “Yes,” King said, hearing my concerns, “this is exactly why you need to tell me what I must do to gain your trust.”

  I shook my head and stared at my feet. “Nothing. There’s nothing you can do.”

  “Mia, look at me,” he commanded.

  I didn’t want to. I knew I’d just end up getting lost in those hypnotic eyes.

  “Mia,” he said in that deep, velvety voice, “look at me. Look at me like you did that day in the hospital.”

  That was the day I’d got a glimpse of the real him. And it was the moment I began to question if he was truly evil. It was also the point at which my feelings for him became unquestionably complicated.

  “Please,” he added.

  Unable to resist, I looked up at him and fidgeted in my dress. King had that expression—fierce determination in his light eyes, black brows slightly tugged together, and lips pursed—that loosened my joints, clouded my mind, and made me want to believe that his insides were as beautiful as the outside. But they weren’t. Yet, it didn’t stop me from feeling what I felt or wanting to touch him.

  I glanced down at his hand, hanging to his side. His finger twitched, and I wondered if he wanted to touch me, too.

  “Yes, I do,” he said, maintaining his hypnotic stare. “More than you could possibly understand.” He closed the gap between us quickly. The warmth of his body pressing to mine ignited a wave of prickles over my skin. I tried to ignore them, but then he slid his hand to the back of my head. However, he didn’t move to kiss me. He simply stared. “There is a time and place for everything, Miss Turner,” he whispered in that dark, sultry voice. “Rest assured, when I take you for the first time, it won’t be in a dungeon.” He slowly bent his head. “It will be where I can take my time with you.” He nuzzled his lips and deliciously bristly stubble against my cheek. “Now, do as I ask, and tell me what doubts you have about me.”

  Everything. I doubt everything. Even now as I wanted him in a way that defied all sound reasoning.

  Mia, I thought to myself, it’s either King or Vaughn.

  “That is correct,” he said. “Listen to yourself.”

  Then tell me what this is. What is this between us?

  His lips stopped their gliding and nuzzling. “I cannot explain it.”

  Can’t or won’t?

  “Can’t.” But the way he’d said it instantly made me doubt even that.

  See. Even now, I feel like you’re trying to manipulate me. That you hold all the cards and know exactly what will happen, but I’m in the dark. I feel like you’re hiding so many things that what I’m looking at is the tip of the iceberg, and if I were to view the entire frozen picture, I’d see miles of secrets hiding beneath the surface. I feel…I feel…like I’m being…worked! I spat. That’s what’s keeping me from trusting you!

  He pulled back and once again stared into my eyes. This time, it was outrage that I saw. “Is that what you think this is? That this is an enormous, contrived farce? And that I would purposefully put myself in the care of Vaughn, a man who represents everything I loathe in this world. Or is it, perhaps, that you believe I would put you in jeopardy to serve some scheme of mine?”

  I didn’t reply because I wasn’t sure; a thought he immediately picked up on.

  “I am not God, Miss Turner. I am nothing more than half a man, the side one cannot see with the naked eye, but a man nonetheless. I do not control everything—the heavens, you, or the Club. I simply cast my coin into the water and hope the ripples push the tide my way. That is all any man can ever aspire to. Even the most powerful. So if you would like to go on believing in conspiracies, be my guest. But then open those fucking beautiful blue eyes of yours and use them for seeing the truth. I hide nothing. I offer you access to every memory I have retained.”

  Fine. I want to know what happened to the other Seers.

  He blew out a breath and r
an both hands through his hair.

  You said anything.

  “Yes, I did. It’s simply painful for me to answer.” Another breath.

  Tell me. I need to know.

  He hesitated for several long moments. “I…cursed them. They almost died off, but then I learned about the Artifact, and by coincidence, I learned that the Seers had a certain gift for drawing it to them. They are bound to it, just as I am bound to them. I removed the curse, but it was too late. Most were already gone.”

  “How do you know that?” I wondered if he had some way of finding them or something.

  He drew a deep breath. “I never knew who or where the Seers were. I can only say that I felt their presence on this earth. Every time one died, I felt the curse’s grip weaken.”

  “Oh.” I thought for a moment about why he’d stopped killing them. It was to serve his own needs, not out of the goodness of his heart.

  “Understand, Mia, that I thought of only one goal when I cursed them: destroying any traces of Hagne. But when I met Cassandra, she was the first person who saw the true me. She wanted to help despite the ugliness she saw standing before her.”

  Cassandra?

  “She was the Seer I told you of.”

  What about Arno and Mack? Don’t they help you?

  “Arno and Mack were not born yet, though Arno’s family has sworn an oath to me and has served me for many generations.”

  Arno is your servant?

  “His entire family, the Spiros of Crete, have served each king hundreds of years before I was even born. It is their tradition, and they serve willingly. To them it is an honor.”

  How old are you?

  “That is not a question regarding your trust of me.”

  I let out a little hiss. Why won’t you tell me?

  “Next question?” he said sternly.

  How did Cassandra die?

  “She got involved with someone from the Club. He tricked her into betraying me.”

  Did you kill her?

  He looked at me sharply. “No. She was a friend. I watched over her.”

  His comment about Cassandra made me think of how I sometimes felt King’s eyes on me or smelled his delicious scent in the air, but there was no one there. Did you watch over me, too?

  His intensity sharpened as he stared. “Once I met you, yes. All the time. But watching you is something more.”

  My heart began to race a bit, knowing that he’d been spying on me. I wasn’t sure if it was entirely anger-driven.

  “I am fascinated by everything you do,” he said. “I love the way you fidget in your chair when you wait for me in my office. I love the way you wobble in those sexy red heels as you walk. I loved watching you eat and drink, the way you enjoy your food and roll your eyes.”

  Oh no. You watched me devour that loaf of bread in the hotel in Palenque, didn’t you? It had been that infamous night he tattooed me. I’d taken a long shower after the, then, worst day of my life, and emerged from the bathroom to find champagne, bread, and cheese.

  “Yes. I do believe you said you loved me,” he gloated.

  I meant it figuratively.

  “Yes, I know. But a man can dream, can’t he?” He stepped in a bit closer, and my body began to tingle. “Because if I could dream of one thing for the rest of my days, it would be of you, the way you study me and wonder who or what I really am.”

  Why?

  “Because you never stop hoping. I can see it in your eyes, Mia. You never cease praying that I will turn out to be something other than I am. A monster.”

  Because you’re not a monster. You’re a person who was dealt a bad hand.

  He stepped a little bit closer, and I felt the energy from his deliciously masculine body trigger a reaction in all the right places, which was so, so wrong.

  He cupped the back of my head. “See. That was it, right there. That look in your eyes.”

  His possessive gaze overpowered me. I wanted to look away from those stunning, possessive gray eyes, but I couldn’t. Feeling like I was everything in his world for those few short moments was like a drug.

  He bent his head to my ear. “Be forewarned, Miss Turner, once we are free and you look at me like that, I am going to fuck you thoroughly. I’ll take you again and again, until you concede.”

  Con-con-cede what?

  “That you are mine. Not because of the mark, but because your body and soul wish it.”

  I wasn’t sure that’s what I wished. I mean—yes, my body wanted him in so many wrong ways, but my brain was still telling me not to trust him. He was a man who would do anything to get what he wanted. He was also damaged. Perhaps beyond repair. I wasn’t sure.

  What if I don’t want that, King? What if I do not want to be yours?

  He smiled and then rubbed his lips lightly over my cheek again as if he couldn’t get enough. “If you give me what I want, then I will give you what you want.”

  I turned my head and met his eyes. Did you just say what I think?

  He kissed me lightly on the lips. “Yes. One night with me, and then you may choose.”

  He was obviously one hundred percent confident that I wouldn’t leave him. Because King never made a deal he wasn’t prepared to keep.

  Deal. Besides, I might not get out of this. But it’s nice to have something to look forward to if I do.

  King chuckled softly in my ear. “Oh, I look forward to it, too.”

  I rolled my eyes. I meant my freedom.

  “You won’t leave me, Miss Turner. You like being mine just as much as I enjoy owning you.”

  I took a step back and stared at him, wondering how much more complex we could possibly make things between us. So now what? Vaughn could be back at any moment.

  King stood up straight. “Do you want to return? Do you trust me?”

  I sighed. I want to, but that’s not how trust works.

  “Then tell me what more you need.” He again placed his hand on the back of my neck so I couldn’t avoid his powerful gaze.

  I don’t know. More time?

  I felt King’s fingers twitch. “Do you know why I chose you, Mia?”

  I shook my head no.

  “Because you are brave. Brave enough to stand up against me. Brave enough to hope for a man like me. Brave enough to go up against people who could crush you like a fly, all for someone you care about. You are far braver than I. So now, you need to be brave once again and take a leap of faith.”

  I wanted to. Hell, my life was on the line. But could I trust him enough for this to work?

  What will happen to me when I’m—I swallowed—dead?

  “I do not know.”

  How long will it take for me to come back?

  “A day or two. But that is a guess.”

  And if it works? What will happen when I wake up?

  “You will call Mack. You will tell him what has happened, and he will come get you.”

  And then what? What about you?

  “I will be fine. There is nothing that Vaughn can do to me that hasn’t already been done.”

  I’m not leaving you here to rot.

  King’s face turned into an angry scowl. “You are not, and I repeat, not to do anything foolish, Mia. Mack will take you somewhere safe. You are to stay there.”

  Indefinitely?

  “I hope not, but if necessary.”

  But my parents and Justin—

  “Vaughn will believe you are dead. If he finds out you are alive, he will come after you. He will kill you on the spot. You are to stay out of sight.”

  I saw his point. Of course I did. But leaving King or anyone to hang out to dry wasn’t my style. I’d rather die than hide while that psycho Vaughn hurt them.

  I know I’m not like you and Vaughn. I don’t know how to think like a cruel person, and I can’t even begin to understand the ins and outs of the Club, but I promise, I’ll be careful. My mistake last time was in believing I could play on their terms and go head to head. I thought I could be King for
a day. But that was a completely naïve and ridiculous assumption. No one could be King except King.

  King grabbed my wrist. “No. Mia. You will stay away. I forbid you to get involved again.”

  But—

  King gave me a little shake. “Let the chips fall, Mia. Let fate decide who lives and who dies.”

  I’m changing subjects now.

  “No!” he yelled. “You are to call Mack and do as you are told, Miss Turner.”

  Ha! See. Now you’re going to ask me to trust you? And you know what? I do! I trust you to be a complete arrogant ass. I trust that you will always default to seeing me as your property.

  “Because you are,” he growled.

  I don’t know what time you’re from, King, but in this day and age, women aren’t pets. Your days of barbarianism are over! I own me. I decide what to do with my life.

  “I don’t give a fuck about your modern-day ideals,” he yelled. “You will do as you are told, or I will pun—”

  “Don’t you dare!” I stuck my finger in his face. “Don’t you dare say it, or so help me, I will kick that giant ghosty dick of yours so hard that—”

  King unexpectedly smiled at me and then began to laugh. Not like a little chuckle or snicker, but a double over, can’t get a breath sort of laugh.

  “What?” I said, but then replayed my words. I’d told him that I would kick his giant ghosty dick.

  “Okay. Okay.” Then I started to laugh, too. “I’m not very good at insults, am I?” I snorted.

  “No. In fact, you flatter me and my giant dick.” He stood up straight, still chuckling, wiping a tear from the corner of his eye.

  “Did I make you cry? This is embarrass—” My thought was cut short by something I saw: King’s light flickered to green again, but this time it stayed that way.

  I gasped. Oh my God.

  “What?” He continued shaking his head, chuckling the words “ghosty dick.”

  You just turned green. Bright green.

  His smile melted away. “Yes, I believe I feel it.”

  We stared at each other for a quiet moment. I don’t know what he was thinking about, or if he was simply listening in on my thoughts, but I was struck with awe. I saw a glimmer of that man—whole, happy, full of life—he once was before his existence turned into a living hell. I don’t think I’d ever seen anything more beautiful than him in that moment.