Wherever he’d gone, I would find him.
How? I just knew I would. Like a magnet pulling itself toward metal. It was just like Mia said. Except for the part about wanting to hurt Mack. To the contrary, I wanted to protect him.
On the way out, I passed by the guard station and informed them that our John Doe had apparently checked himself out. I told them he wasn’t a risk to himself so to simply file the paperwork. I didn’t want anyone looking for Mack but me.
Five minutes after pulling out of the parking lot, I sat at a lonely red light, thinking about where I’d start my search, when I heard that dark, familiar voice from the backseat of my car. “Head east. I know a place we can go.”
“Shit!” I yelped, simultaneously jumping in my seat and swiveling my body to see who the hell was in the back of my car. Mack? “What are you doing?” I yelled, clutching the fabric of my sweater over my heart. “And how the fuck did you get in here?”
He was just sitting there looking completely casual about it—arm resting over the top of the backseat, one leg stretched out. He also wore a leather jacket, and though I couldn’t quite make out the style, I imagined he probably looked sexy as hell in it.
“You left your keys on your desk,” he said. “I used the remote to unlock the door.”
It dawned on me that the question I’d asked was pretty tame compared to all the other monstrosities waiting in line.
“Mack, what the fuck is going on?” I barked.
“You mean my brother?”
“Yes! How’d you know?”
“It was only a question of time before he located you—or me—he’s very talented at finding things.”
What the hell, then? I spat inside my head. “And it didn’t cross your mind to warn me? He came to my house to kill me, Mack! Because he said I am going to kill you.”
I stared at the large shadow in my backseat, waiting for a reply. It didn’t come.
“Well?” I prodded.
“Mia was with him, and I’m sure she made my brother behave. The light is green. Drive east.”
“Hell no. Not until you tell me why those crazy assholes broke into my house and said all those things.” And made me soup.
“It’s like you said. They’re crazy. And they’re looking for me because I took something from them. That’s all.”
I didn’t buy it, but had to ask anyway. “What did you take?”
“The Incan Chalice of Life. I traded it with someone who helped me find you.”
Okay. Wasn’t expecting that answer.
“May we drive now?” he said.
“Yes. But we’re going back to the center.” There we could talk under the watchful eye of the security staff.
“You and I both know it won’t be safe there. Drive east.”
“Why?” I asked.
“Drive east,” he insisted.
“Why?” I asked again.
“Because you said you wanted to help me. This is helping me.”
I thought it over for a moment. Strangely, that rage-filled voice inside my head from earlier had disappeared. I felt like me again. And good ol’ me was saying it wasn’t a good idea to just “drive east” with this guy.
“Fine.” He reached for the car door and started to exit.
Shit. I couldn’t let him go. I couldn’t. He was too…too…well, I wanted to slap myself for saying something so crazy, but he was too important to me. He felt like everything, in fact.
“Okay!” I barked. “I’ll drive east.”
Mack got back inside and closed the door. “Head for the highway.”
I turned toward the steering wheel and started driving east, doing my best to keep my eyes on the road, but taking every chance I had to steal glimpses of the man in my backseat. A proud cheekbone. The full, sensual lips. The strong brow and square stubbled jaw. Each flicker of light from a passing car gave me another peek.
Mack was goddamned beautiful.
Great. Fucking great. He’s hot and mysterious. And totally out of his mind.
“Watch out!” Mack barked.
I jerked the car back into my lane and off the shoulder, feeling like a drooling moron.
After a few moments passed, I finally asked, “Any plans to tell me where we’re going?”
“Just keep driving.” How he’d know that I wasn’t the least bit tired or sleepy, I could only guess. But we would drive all night until the sun rose.
Later, I’d look back on the day ahead as the best and the worst day of my life.
CHAPTER TWELVE
MACK
I was torn. Inside and out. Being in the car with Theodora was like being in my own personal hell. How was it possible to want to protect someone and care for them, ache for them and need them, yet feel compelled to harm them and want them to kill you, too? It’s downright fucking psychotic. That’s what it is.
Of course, the voice inside my head, screaming to slide my hands around her neck and choke the life from her, wasn’t truly mine. It belonged to Óolal’s father and his goddamned curse, demanding that I “relive his pain” for eternity. Translated to mean I would feel compelled to kill and then feel guilty as hell about it. The more I cared, the stronger the urge to harm, the bigger the guilt. I supposed that was how he felt about killing Óolal for the good of his people in a quest to not piss off the gods. Idiot. He’d created a monster: Me.
In any case, I wouldn’t touch Theodora. I never had, and I never would.
I hoped.
Honestly, we’d never been together for more than a handful of hours at a time. King always got to her somehow. Sometimes before my own heart sensed she was near. Because seeing people for who they once were wasn’t a gift I could claim to possess like King. Although I knew that the dead with unfinished business sometimes returned by means of reincarnation or by other unnatural methods, as in my brother’s case. In short, he’d been cursed, too, and the moment it was lifted, a cosmic force controlled by the Seers snapped him back to life, righting a wrong that was never meant to be.
As for me, my return was unnatural, as well. A product of multiple forces at work. But this time, I am going to die, and there will be no return. Theodora will see to it.
If you don’t kill her first.
I quickly barricaded the dark thought behind a wall. A flimsy wall. The clock was ticking.
“Take this off-ramp,” I demanded, guiding us to the only place with any hope of preventing King from finding us immediately. His gift of locating people and things was impressive, although what truly made him powerful were the tools in his box. He owned thousands of items—spell books and rare artifacts—that possessed the sort of powers people, especially bad ones, dreamed of possessing. Compelling, untraceable poisons, talismans to drive people mad, gemstones that made one immortal—like the one in the rings King and Mia wore—aphrodisiacs, youth serums—you name it. Add to that, my brother could get inside people’s heads and crawl around, well, it made him one scary sonofabitch.
“Are you going to give me a clue where we’re going?” Theodora asked.
Still sitting in the backseat, trying to keep my distance and keep my lust at bay—not really working—I replied, “Start looking for a gas station. You’re running low.”
She was silent on the matter and started searching for a place to pull off the highway. As the sun came up over the horizon directly in front of us, there was a split second where I clearly saw Óolal in the reflection of the rearview mirror. Her long black hair, her wide cheekbones, her full lips. It was only a moment, but it flooded my mind with feelings I’d buried long ago. I closed my eyes, fighting the urge to let them in. I couldn’t do this. Not again.
~~~
TEDDI
When I stopped along the road to get gas and grab a few supplies—water, snacks, and caffeine—I made every attempt to sneak a peek at the man in my backseat, who sadly had his face tilted down and eyes closed.
Seriously? He’d dozed off. I was about to wake him under the guise of need
ing directions, but really, I just wanted to see his face in broad daylight and gaze into those eyes. What would happen?
Anyway, I stomped down my gnawing curiosity and allowed the man to grab a few minutes of shut-eye, not bothering to wake him until we were back on the highway.
Afterwards, he told me to take a small road north, and we stayed on that for what seemed like forever. Then the green faded. No more trees or grass. Just desert and hills. My best guess was that we were somewhere northeast of Palm Springs and a few hours south of the Mohave Desert.
Mack had me turn down a lonely dirt road that looked like it hadn’t been used in years. No fresh tire tracks. No grooves from wear. Just a long flat stretch of golden dirt that disappeared between two hills up ahead.
Just a few meters in, I took my foot off the gas, feeling extremely uneasy. This couldn’t be a good idea. Then it hit me again. I felt that door inside my head swing open. Colors began seeping up from the ground. Reds, blacks, and blues swirling together.
Unable to breathe, I stopped the car completely. Then the wave of nausea hit. I put the car into park and bolted out the door, diving to my hands and knees, dry heaving. Nothing came out, but my stomach didn’t care.
“Try to relax, Theodora. You’re fighting it.” I felt a strong, soothing hand on my back.
Mack might as well have been stroking my breasts or inner thighs or kissing my lips. His touch felt intimate, tender and sensual.
Okay. Feeling better now. In fact, I felt the urge to jump to my feet and kiss him like a long-lost lover I missed with all my heart.
I shook my head from side to side, gathering up my crumbling wits. Oh look. I’m in the doggy position on the ground with my tongue hanging out. Nice.
I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand, and Mack gripped my arm to help me to my feet.
This is it, I realized. I was going to turn around and look him straight in the eyes. I already knew how beautiful he was, but the last time we’d locked eyes, it changed me.
His firm grip gently squeezing my upper arm, I slowly turned and gasped. Then my breath stuck in my lungs. Blue, so blue. I’d never seen such a stunning set of eyes on a man. And those lips and angular jaw covered in light brown stubble, and the shaggy dirty blond hair falling over his forehead and…
He’s so beautiful.
The morning sunlight bathed every masculine feature of his handsome face with soft golden light. I was speechless as he stared down at me.
“What?” he said dryly. “Never seen a three-thousand-year-old man before?” He cracked a sweet smile, and it nearly stopped my heart. Dimples puckered. His eyes lit up. His lips looked like they’d been created for the joy of sex and for laughter and for eating romantic dinners and whispering in my ear while making love and—
Hold the hell on there, Ted. I was not going to sleep with this man. Yeah, but you want to. And for someone like me to want someone as badly as I wanted him was complete insanity.
Welp. At least now you can relate to your patients.
I cleared my throat. “I think I’d like to know your beauty regimen,” I finally replied to his little wisecrack about his age. Of course. I didn’t believe he was that old.
But then, how do I explain all this? I asked myself.
You’re a freaking psychologist, Ted. And a woman with a strong brain. That was right. I had to fall back on that. There was a scientific and medical explanation for what was happening here. I was merely getting sucked into these people’s occult-like delusions, a victim of my emotions, which were all so new to me.
Still, I couldn’t deny the connection I felt with Mack, despite his issues. Luckily, there was no one better equipped on the planet to help this beautiful, crazy man see that he wasn’t cursed and he wasn’t going to die. And that he, his brother, and that Mia woman were living in some sort of fantasy world. As for the strange coincidence about seeing his brother in a dream, there was a very rational explanation: they’d been watching me. I knew that for a fact. I must’ve seen this King man somewhere and not realized it.
I almost wanted to slap myself. The colors, the fainting spells, the emotions I’d been going through were all products of my powerful mind.
Suddenly, I realized Mack was staring down at me, the sunlight reflecting the reddish hues in his blond hair. I found myself loving the way he looked at me, like a cherished object. Then there was the way he looked in general—the way his jeans hugged his strong thighs and the way his plain white tee shirt stretched across his stacked pecs.
“Your green eyes are lovely, Theodora. And the haircut is especially fetching,” he said.
Fetching. It was the sort of word nobody used these days, but its charm had my stomach turning into flutters.
I made a little shrug, sweeping my hand over the top of my head, petting my brown bob. “I thought it would make me look more mature.”
He huffed out a laugh. “You, of all people, shouldn’t worry about that. You’re just as old as I am.”
Oh, yes. They all think I’m this Óolal woman. I decided now was not the time to start chipping away at his false reality. If I was going to save this man, I’d have to tread carefully and let him see the truth for himself. He was living in a make-believe world.
“I was wondering why my knees always ache when it rains. Must be arthritis.” I smiled and followed it with a long breath. “I’m all better now. Should we continue to our destination?”
Mack reached out and stroked my cheek with his rough hands. “I’ll drive.”
I couldn’t move. It felt too good to be touched by him. “O-o-okay.”
The slope of his bare arms, with ripped, tattoo-covered biceps, caught the corner of my eye. Mack reminded me of one of those tall, lean, hard Navy SEAL kinds of guys, muscled in all the right places.
“You never told me about those dates and names on your arms,” I said.
He dropped his hand and stepped around me, getting into the front seat of my black BMW.
Guess he’s not going to answer that.
I watched in awe as he slid the seat all the way back to accommodate his long, muscular legs.
“You getting in, Doctor?” He sat there with a smirk, gripping the steering wheel.
I was staring at him, wasn’t I?
“Yep.” I nonchalantly made my way around the front of the car, feeling his gaze pinned on me the entire time.
Once inside, he threw it into first and tore down the road.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
TEDDI
“What is this place?” I asked as Mack dug a key from the dirt just beside an old dilapidated cabin out in the middle of nowhere. I couldn’t help staring at his large frame as he bent over. Flat stomach—not even a hint of a pooch as he folded himself over; lightly tanned skin—like he’d been somewhere warm and sunny recently; broad shoulders—the kind that told me he wasn’t afraid of hard work.
And that ass. Round and hard looking. No man should have such a nice ass. It was unfair to us ladies.
Not wanting him to catch me ogling again, I peeled my eyes away and went back to inspecting the small wooden cabin with the dusty wraparound porch; the entire mess looked like the retired set of an old gunslinger movie. Add to that how this part of the desert wasn’t one of those long flat hunks of dirt with cute fork-shaped cactus, but hilly with lots of rocks. Dried-out vegetation and the occasional scraggly tree dotted the hillside, giving the secluded valley the feeling of desolation.
Funny, but I wasn’t scared—not even a little—though somewhere in the back of my mind—the one that used to be completely logical but now felt hardwired into my emotions—I realized I was taking a big risk. I should be afraid. I shouldn’t have agreed to come to an isolated cabin out in the middle of the desert.
I shouldn’t feel what I felt about this man either. But I did.
“Looks like someone detonated an A-bomb here. Everything’s dead.”
Mack chuckled as he rose to his feet and wiped the dust from his hands on his dark jea
ns.
“What?” I said.
“We’re standing on top of an old Native American burial ground. And they prefer to be called spirits since they’re not really dead.”
Okay… “Oh. Well, I was referring to the plants. Not the supernatural wildlife—but are you telling me you see ghosts here?”
I hoped he’d say no because I already had my work cut out for me.
He shoved a key into a padlock that was attached to a chain running through a hole in the wood plank door.
“No. I can’t see the ghosts. Can you?” He flashed a curious look my way as he fiddled with the rusty lock.
“I don’t believe in ghosts.”
He turned his head and stared at me for moment as if I were the crazy one. “You will.” He went back to his task and the lock made a pop sound.
Was he trying to frighten me? It wouldn’t work.
“How do you know about this place?” I asked.
“I used to be acquaintances with the caretaker in a past life.”
I wondered if he meant “past life” figuratively or literally. “So your friend used to take care of an unmarked burial ground. Interesting.”
Mack unthreaded the rusted chain through the hole and pushed open the door, giving me a view into the gloomy, dirty interior.
“The dead don’t need taking care of,” he said. “His job was to keep the living away. But he eventually went insane out here all by himself. Right before he died, he had my brother ward the entire property. It’s why you got sick when we stepped onto this land.”
I raised a brow. Ward. Now there’s a word you don’t hear every day. It implied that they’d used some sort of voodoo to protect the land.
“I see you don’t believe me.” He jerked his head, gesturing for me to go inside, which I didn’t do. I wasn’t afraid, but I also didn’t see why we’d want to go in there.
“Why don’t you tell me what’s inside first?” I folded my arms over my chest, grateful I had on my thick dark sweater. The chill in the morning air was prickly to say the least.
“It’s the sort of thing you need to see for yourself.” His voice was suddenly tinged with an ominous tone, and I felt the baby fine hairs on my arms and neck stand straight up as the expression on his face shifted into something that was difficult to articulate. It was…like…he wanted to hurt me. Hate. Rage. Whatever. But he looked mean and deadly.
Mack (The King Trilogy #4) Page 7