The Ten Club

by Mimi Jean Pamfiloff

  I pulled my head away. “I guess we’ll never know. But you have Hagne now.”

  “She is here to serve me, but not in that way. And now that she’s told me who you really are, I am confident that you and I were meant to be together.”

  I tilted my head to the side. “Who do you think I really am?”

  “The most powerful Seer ever to be born. One who has the gift to pass through the barriers of time, to see the dead, to see anything she wants.”

  “I don’t know what Hagne told you, but I am not a Seer anymore.”

  He shook his head slowly. “Hagne did not have to tell me anything. I assure you that the power still runs in your blood. How do you think I managed to resurrect five souls at once when the chalice usually allows for only one?”

  “I really don’t know,” I said with a bite in my tone, “but if you were right, I’d go back to the moment you gave up the life we had.”

  “We can have it all back, Mia.” He slid his hand to cup my cheek. His touch felt warm at first, but quickly turned hotter. Suddenly, I felt him pulsing inside me, through my veins. This time it didn’t hurt. It felt sensual and intimate, like he was rubbing up against my soul and embracing me.

  I wanted to pull away but couldn’t. I missed this too much—that connection and closeness. He was the love of my life, and as much as I wanted to tell myself that this was not the same man, the lie was what I craved. I needed to feel him close one more time. I needed to feel his breath on my neck and hear his soft, deep groans in my ears. I needed to feel his lips and cock and hands touching me everywhere. I needed to fill that hole in my heart and breathe again even if it only lasted a moment.

  “This is what you want, isn’t it?” Lust twinkled in his gray eyes. He pulled me in tighter, allowing me to feel his erection. “There, you see. I haven’t forgotten you completely. And with time, I might remember everything. Don’t you want that?”

  Dammit. He had found that thread of hope inside me and knew just how to tug.

  He continued, “Perhaps this is fate playing out as it is meant to be.”

  I stared up at him, wanting some sign of truth, but all I saw was need. His and mine.

  He leaned down and kissed me. His silky lips felt warm and sensual, exactly like I remembered. This was still King. Still seductive and carnal. Still able to evoke primal lust deep inside me.

  I gave in, fully aware of what I was about to do: Make a mistake.

  He pushed me back onto the desk and lifted my ass on top of it. His hands, strong and warm, slid behind my knees and parted them. His fingers began to roam, touching the delicate skin inside my thigh.

  I let out a soft moan, sinking into the moment.

  His mouth broke away from my lips and trailed heated kisses down the side of my neck, his thick stubble tickling the delicate skin.

  “Tell me, Mia,” he said in a slow deep voice, “is this the way we always feel together?”

  One hand brushed over the apex between my legs, sending a sharp sexual ache pulsing through my core, while his other hand moved to my breast, cupping it over the navy blue fabric.

  “Yes,” I whispered.

  He slid his hand down the front of my panties and delved his finger between my heated folds. “You’re already wet for me.”

  King only had to look at me a certain way, and I would be ready.

  My body jolted involuntarily as he slid a thick finger inside, testing me. “Tell me how it felt, Mia, when we made her, when I put that baby inside you.”

  I panted lightly, enjoying the sensation of his finger pumping. “It was early in the morning, and I found you in your study.”

  “A study like this one?”

  “Yes.” I panted.

  His mouth returned to mine, kissing me hard. “And what next?”

  “You put me on top of your desk, like you’re doing now.”

  His hand moved faster, stoking the fire, pushing me closer.

  “And then?” He unzipped himself, freeing his cock.

  “And then you slid inside me,” I whispered.

  He removed his hand, pushed my black lace thong aside, and placed the head of his shaft at my entrance. “Like this?” He thrust into me.

  I gasped and closed my eyes, feeling my body melt into him and him into me. He was like a sexual drug my body had been craving.

  “Yes,” I replied.

  King pumped his hips slowly, taking the time to grind at the end of each thrust, triggering a gasp each time. “Like this, Mia. Is this how you like to get fucked?”

  “Yes.” He was so good at it.

  He withdrew his cock, pushed me down on the desk, and slid off my panties. He undid his pants the rest of the way, allowing me to see him—his hard thick cock, the dark hair around its base, the heavy balls hanging between his legs.

  He pulled my body closer to him, bringing my entrance just to the edge of the desk. “I want you to watch me fucking you, Mia. I want you to remember this as our first fuck. The old King is gone. Do you understand?” He pushed himself into me, driving hard, taking not giving.

  My body reacted with a sensual contraction. “No.”

  He hit me again with another thrust. “He is gone, Mia. You have me now.” He slammed his cock into me, so rough, so delicious. I thought he was going to continue insisting I forget the man who truly owned my heart, but perhaps he’d gone too far, needing release more than my submission.

  He leaned over me, claiming me with his lips, his body hammering forcefully. His hand slid behind my knee to deepen his penetration. His other hand scooped behind my back to hold me in place.

  My body opened to him, my legs parted wide, needing to feel him as deep as he could go, while my heart stayed closed. I knew in the back of my mind that this wasn’t King. Not the whole man—the one with a bit of darkness inside his tough, but loving heart. This man could never be trusted. Still, I needed him. Just one more time.

  King withdrew his mouth and pushed his forehead to mine, stilling his hips with his cock wedged deep inside me. His masculine, guttural groan told me he was coming. I loved it when he came—the thought of my body pleasing the man I loved, the moment he poured his cum into me, the sound of his breath and deep voice intermingling in my ears. I loved how he never got enough of my lips and breasts and how he made me come over and over again with his thick shaft.

  The carnal explosion deep in my belly ignited and paralyzed my entire body, sending my mind into a delicious fog of pleasure. King pulsed his hips, watching with hooded eyes as he milked the waves of my climax.

  “That’s right, Mia. Come for me, like you did for him.”

  Never. But in my mind we were there in our study at home on that morning he gave me our daughter. It was a moment when my body connected to him in a way it hadn’t before, so filled with love. Then I felt a spark somewhere deep inside my belly. With Archon, I remember feeling something calm and bright tingling inside me, but that came weeks later. With her, it was instant. And now I knew why.

  She is a Seer. A powerful one. Perhaps it had been her blood King sensed.

  As for me, feeling King lying over me, inside my body, all I felt was sadness. The afterglow, the full feeling of our bodies joined, had been lacking. An empty fuck riding on memories of love.

  King kissed my lips, slow and sensual, and then withdrew. He immediately went to putting himself away, avoiding eye contact.

  Strange. I sat up, slid off the desk, and began arranging my dress. My eyes quickly searched for my black thong, and I noticed King sliding something into his pocket.

  My panties.

  Okay. He wanted to keep them but wouldn’t look at me?

  An awkward silence filled the room. My silence was more of a state of mourning, but I couldn’t begin to guess what was going on inside his head.

  King straightened his tie and reached for the door. “Be in the basement in five minutes.” He disappeared and left the door wide open while I stood there staring at the empty space. What the hell was th
at? He’d seemed genuinely troubled or disturbed or something after fucking me.

  Had he remembered something?

  “Well, well, well, looks like the old king still has a thing for you.”

  I looked up to find Hagne standing in the hallway just past the door in her garish red dress. Funny, I could almost recognize her from the glint of hatred in her blue eyes, even though when I’d met her, she’d been a brown beauty—dark eyes, dark hair, dark skin. But there was no mistaking that glare. All Hagne.

  I lifted my chin and walked past her. “And it looks like the old king still thinks of you as his little bitch.”

  CHAPTER NINE

  After I left the study, I slipped into the bathroom, fixed myself up and thought about my next move. I had to assume that I had gotten through to King somehow and that being physical had been the key.

  This was good.

  King wanting me like that, wanting to hear about making our daughter, meant the emotional connection wasn’t gone or that he craved it on some level. What bothered me, however, was his complete lack of warmth. No, I didn’t mean physically. King was his old hot self. But his soul felt icier than ever.

  It’s like that part of him is all broken. Or maybe gone altogether? I patted my face with a tissue, reset my straightened curls with a quick finger comb, and made my way outside. I had a few days, if that, to determine what had happened to King after he died and what he really planned to do with these resurrected demons from his past.

  I entered the cozy living room—cozy by King’s standards since it wouldn’t hold a hundred people—and instantly realized that many of the formally dressed guests were the same people from San Francisco. There were many faces I didn’t recognize, too.

  And no Hagne. Thank God.

  I walked over by the stone fireplace and pretended to admire the painting above it while I stole glances of the guests and committed their faces to memory. The painting, by the way? Scary as fuck. Some old demon eating a heart it had just ripped out of a naked man.

  Someone clanked a wineglass at the far end of the room, grabbing everyone’s attention.

  King. He stood there looking handsome as hell in his tux, flashing a cocky smile. He’d gotten over whatever had bothered him after our little encounter in his study.

  “My esteemed guests,” he called out across the room of elegantly dressed people, “as you know, I’ve invited you all here tonight to usher in a new dawn of 10 Club. You are the elite of our group, the powerful, the people with vision who understand what 10 Club will become once we cease operating under a veil of secrecy. Today we live in the shadows. Tomorrow we live and breathe and bathe in the light, molding the world into a new shape, where the weak gladly accept their places and where the powerful few rule them.” King raised his glass to the guests, who applauded with enthusiasm. “As it was meant to be!”

  I stood there with my mouth hanging open. I mean, the world had seen its fair share of dark times, but this? This would be nothing in comparison if 10 Club came out of the evil closet.

  “Oh, I can’t wait to find out what powers he gives me,” said the woman to my side.

  The man next to her, one I thought I recognized from San Francisco, replied, “I hear that King is giving out something very special tonight. Perhaps mind-reading abilities.”

  So…these people, whom I’ll call the newbies, believed they were getting free gifts?

  I wanted to tsk at them. Nothing in this world is free, you idiots.

  The applause died down and King continued, “And now, my dear people, if the ten guests of honor will follow me?”

  The room applauded again as three women and seven men stepped forward.

  Ten? He’s doing ten at a time now? And from the conversation I’d just overheard, I didn’t think any of them had a clue that they were about to be evicted from their bodies.

  This is bad. Not that I felt sorry for these animals parading around as human beings in formal wear, but the souls taking their places would be much worse.

  “Ms. Turner,” King called out, giving me a stern warning with his eyes not to mess this up, “your presence is required.”

  Oh, God. I did not want to help him, but what choice did I have? I couldn’t run, he’d kill me if I said no, and I needed to be in a position to help Mack or save King. Or both.

  I took a steady breath and followed the herd through the formal dining room with an enormous crystal chandelier and through a small hallway to a door where King revealed a flight of narrow dark stairs.

  Standing at the end of the conga line behind a woman in a sequined white gown, I groaned. I knew what would happen down there. King would perform his bloody ritual and bring ten people back from the grave.

  As I descended the wooden stairs, the sound of everyone’s heels filling the narrow dark passage with thumping sounds, I had to wonder if King could bring all of these people back, why couldn’t I resurrect him a second time? I mean, I could guess why he wouldn’t want that—he was much more powerful in his nonliving state. But what if I forced him somehow? Would he become whole again, or would he simply be the same dark soul in a body?

  It was worth a try.

  I entered the dark basement and stood in the corner. This time, I watched King’s every move, listened to every word, and memorized every symbol he painted on the walls and floor before he called me forward.

  “Let me do it,” I said, taking his knife. If I had to bleed, I wanted to control the knife.

  King’s gaze turned carnal and hungry as I cut my palm and collected the blood for him.

  I think I just earned his trust.

  After the blood ceremony, the ten people who left the basement were not the same ten souls who’d entered. I’d been right; the dinner party before—the speech, formality, and introductions—had all been a sham. Because after the ceremony, I watched as old friends embraced, laughed, toasted and screamed with delight in strange languages. It felt like an international reunion for old college buddies. Then I spotted Hagne greeting a brunette woman who had tears in her eyes. I could practically feel the energy spiking in that corner of the room where they stood. Even the little life in my belly began to flutter around, almost as if in a panic.

  Oh crap.

  My eyes searched the room for King, who had disappeared after the ceremony. I planned to get him alone again if I could. I wanted to find out when the next shindig was scheduled. Then I’d call Mack and propose a plan. We’d hijack the ceremony and bring back King.

  I took a sip of my ginger ale, trying to settle my stomach. Calm down, little Ariadna. That was what I planned to name my daughter. It meant daughter of a king.

  “Ms. Turner?”

  I swiveled and found King all cleaned up, a fresh new tux, glowering down at me with those steely gray eyes.

  “Yes?”

  “Would you come with me?”

  I wanted to, but I didn’t like his aggressive tone. Especially since there was no reason for it.

  “Why?” I asked.

  “Come with me,” he repeated sternly.

  “Are you going to hurt us?” Yes, I said “us.” I wasn’t going to dance around the truth with him.

  “No.” He grabbed my arm and tugged.

  “Wait. Is anyone else going to hurt us?”

  His eyes flickered with annoyance. “No.” He turned and headed from the room.

  I followed along, feeling my back stiffen as he led me away from the party to a small sitting room with a cozy fire just off the entryway.

  He turned and looked down at me.

  “What?” I said.

  His mouth lunged for mine and his arms embraced me possessively. My body froze for a moment, wondering what was happening. But then I noticed something: His passion.

  What is going on?

  His hand moved to cup my cheek, and his kiss deepened.

  So much emotion poured from him that I felt instantly dizzy. He’s coming around. He has to be. I melted into him and let his tongue dance with
mine. I should’ve known that all he needed was a taste of our love. King’s heart couldn’t forget me. That had to be why he’d behaved so strangely after we had sex.

  King snapped back with a wild look in his eyes. “You are fucking amazing, Mia. Together we’ll be unstoppable.” He slid his hand over my stomach.

  Whoa. Wait. “Do you remember me at all, King?”

  “I told you, Mia, that man you married, he is gone. He will never return. But what you and I can have will be so much better. No one will ever threaten you again. No one will touch you. You will have the world at your feet and the life of the queen you were meant to be.”

  A queen? Is that what he thought I wanted?

  In my gut, I knew this was a pivotal moment. A moment when I threw in the kitchen sink—my faith, my hope, my love—and prayed things would work out, that I would get through to him eventually and get him back. Or I threw in the towel, lied through my teeth, and manipulated him, knowing that he told the truth: It was over for us. The man I Ioved was really gone, and the best I could hope for was to end this dark version of him and the 10 Club.

  My heart sank into a deep, dark hole. This moment felt like losing him all over again. Because, goddammit, history had taught me that hoping didn’t do a damned thing. If I wanted to live and wanted my children to be free of all this, I had to put them first. I didn’t have the luxury of simply waiting to see what might happen.

  I filled my mind with pleasant memories of yesterday so that King would sense the joy inside me. I remembered the day we married on the beach not too far from our home here in Crete. I remembered how he made love to me, held me, and begged me to swear I would never leave his side because he loved me so much. I thought about the look in his eyes when he held Arch in his arms for the first time and realized that his pain and suffering for thousands of years was all worth it because he’d been given a second chance to live and to be a father.

  I gazed at the reflection of the flames from the fireplace dancing in King’s silvery eyes. “I don’t know, King. I mean, who are these people? Can they really be trusted not to hurt us?” I asked, knowing I had to put up a little fight, or he wouldn’t buy my act. I needed him to trust me.