King's

by Mimi Jean Pamfiloff

  “But we’re going there tonight looking for something; won’t they know what we want?” I asked.

  “Not really. You could be trading for something that someone else wants. Most of the time, you could care less about the things you’re negotiating for. It’s a means to an end.”

  This was some crazy, messed-up stuff. And in some ways, it explained why King was such a cold, calculating, heartless person. Or had he always been that way and then found his flock? I didn’t know, but now I knew why he had no qualms about using my weakness—Justin—to barter for something he wanted: me. Or my services, anyway.

  “I can’t believe this,” I whispered.

  “Believe it.”

  “Who would be insane enough to dream this up? To start an entire society like this?” I asked.

  Mack shrugged. “It’s been around for a very, very long time. Some say it dates back six hundred years.”

  “So King, he wants the Artifact. Is it because he really wants it, or is he trying to trade for something else?”

  “What the hell do I care?” Mack asked. “I show up when I’m needed. I don’t get involved in the why.”

  Funny. Mack didn’t care about the why, and King didn’t care about the how. They were perfect for each other. Like peanut butter and jelly.

  “What about this?” I pointed to my wrist. “And what about all of the other crazy crap I’ve seen?”

  It went way beyond a psycho group of rich people bartering for whatever-the-hell.

  Mack looked uneasy, almost…well, pissed off. “It means you’re off the table. Permanently.”

  “Sorry?”

  “King has branded you. No one can make a play for you. It’s against the rules.”

  There are rules?

  “Mack? Why are you telling me all this?”

  “King asked me to.”

  More conflict. King wanted me to know what lie hidden behind the curtain, which meant he was showing me trust. But knowing that you’re only a foot away from the deadly grip of a monster’s sharp teeth wouldn’t bring you a good night’s sleep.

  “Why didn’t he tell me himself?” I asked.

  “He felt the truth might be better received if it came from me.”

  “Oh.” I seemed to be saying that a lot lately. But what else could I say? “Yippee” and “super-duper” weren’t really options.

  “I’m sure I don’t need to point out that sharing this information with anyone on the outside would require your immediate execution,” Mack said remorsefully. “There are only a handful of rules. That’s one of them, too.”

  For some strange reason, I wasn’t surprised. “And the other rules?”

  “King didn’t approve my sharing those. You’ll have to ask him yourself. Ah. We’re here.” Mack straightened his bow tie and then looked at me. The limo pulled up behind a long line of flashy cars.

  Oh no. This was it. I must’ve looked like I’d been hit by a very large, heavy vehicle, perhaps carrying a load of bricks.

  Mack reached out and squeezed my hand. “You’ll be okay, Mia. You can handle this.”

  “Sure.” I just needed to…needed to…

  I bolted from the limo to throw up in a hedgerow. Nothing came out. A few people passed by and stared, but I was mostly hidden in the bushes.

  “Mia?” Mack gripped my shoulders from behind. “Are you all right?”

  I straightened myself up, and he handed me a handkerchief. Lucky me, it was tux night, so he’d had one handy.

  “Thanks.” I blotted underneath my eyes and wiped my mouth. “Just nerves, I think.”

  Mack looked down at me with his wide blue eyes. “Just focus on breathing, smiling, and doing whatever you Seers do.”

  It was the first time someone besides King had mentioned my “ability.” In all honesty, I had been doing everything in my power to ignore the whole thing. It made me uneasy to have a skill I didn’t understand, but as King rightly pointed out, there’d be time for figuring out the “how” later.

  “Okay.” I focused on the sensation of my lungs expanding, and we proceeded down the long walkway toward the ostentatious, English Tudor-style mansion.

  When we got to the entrance, there was a line of ten or so couples, each greeting a man at the door.

  “No,” I gasped. It was Vaughn. “This is his party?” I stopped in my tracks.

  Mack gently pushed the small of my back. “Don’t worry. It will be fine.”

  “But King killed his men. They were going to take me.”

  Mack whispered in my ear and nudged me closer to the door. “Vaughn won’t touch you. Just stay with me.”

  Vaughn shook hands with the couple in front of us, an older bald gentleman with a plump redhead who appeared to be his wife. Vaughn didn’t look at all like the uncivilized, greasy sleazeball I’d seen back in London. He wore a traditional tuxedo and had actually brushed his thinning silver hair.

  Regardless of his civilized exterior, however, I knew a monster lived inside, and I began to wonder if everyone at the party was just as bad as him. And to think, these were people with money and influence. No wonder the world was so messed up.

  Vaughn ushered the older couple inside and wished them success in finding whatever they were looking for. When his eyes settled on Mack and me, his slithery smile melted away.

  “Ah, Mr. Taylor. Nice of you to join us. Welcome.” But his beady brown, cataract-filled eyes said the opposite.

  Mr. Taylor. That was Mack’s last name? I supposed it fit, but I felt irritated learning it from Vaughn. I should have asked him myself. What was it with me and names?

  Mack shook his hand. “King sends his regards. He’s tied up on some important business, but asked me to tell you that he looks forward to seeing you soon.” Mack leaned in and spoke quietly. “He says to wish you luck; you’ll need it.” Mack smiled combatively and shrugged his brows.

  So cocky.

  Vaughn dipped his head. “And tell King that I look forward to seeing him, too. He’ll be the biggest find for my collection yet.”

  Okay. So apparently this entire conversation was code for “Come and get me, muthafucka” and “Oh. I’m comin’, all right. Your ass is mine.”

  What I didn’t understand was why Vaughn would see King as a prize of some sort or how he possibly believed he could “acquire” such a determined, ruthless SOB.

  Good luck with that one, Vaughn.

  Vaughn turned toward me and took my right hand. “Miss Veronica, so we meet again.”

  His touch sent icy shivers shooting through my arm, but I willed myself not to react. When his lips touched the top of my hand, however, my vision became tinted with blood red. I pulled my hand away. I had to.

  Vaughn didn’t react, but I could see the displeasure flickering in his soulless eyes.

  “Vaughn, may I introduce Mia Turner,” Mack said. “She belongs to King.”

  Vaughn didn’t flinch but his reaction, a glance at my left wrist, tipped off his surprise. Fearful that Vaughn might lash out at me, I was about to step back when he laughed. “Tell King that we’ll settle up later.” He gestured toward the inside of the house. “Have a pleasant evening, Mr. Taylor and Miss Turner. I hope you find what you’re looking for.”

  I was only too happy to escape the presence of Vaughn, but entering his home created another sort of angst. I felt like I was entering a party for Hannibal Lectors searching for their next depraved prize to mutilate and devour.

  Mack escorted me inside, where we were immediately greeted by a waiter serving champagne in the foyer. Mack began scanning the elegantly dressed crowd milling about in the enormous white living room.

  “This is really Vaughn’s house?” I whispered to Mack while my eyes took in the brightly colored Warhols and Lichtensteins on the walls.

  He nodded. “He’s got nice taste for a psychopath, doesn’t he?” I tried not to think about that man’s “hobby” or what he did to people once he added them to his collection.

  We made o
ur way through the living room, and I happily played the part of quiet arm candy. I wanted zero interaction with these people. And every time someone shook my hand, I tried to get a look at their palms. I didn’t see what I was looking for—any sign of the Artifact—and apparently, neither did Mack.

  Mack said, “Let’s go outside.”

  We walked out the patio doors into the brick-paved garden. Paper lamps strung on long white runners gave the garden a peaceful wedding reception-like appearance. People stood gathered around small, circular tables, smoking cigars, drinking, and enjoying themselves.

  One man with thick glasses and perfectly combed blond hair had a huge crowd congregated around him.

  “That guy looks familiar,” I said. “Do I know him from somewhere?”

  “He’s a congressman.”

  What? I polished off my champagne and grabbed another from a waiter passing by. “What does he collect?”

  “He’s a powerbroker. See all of those people with him?”

  I nodded and sipped my champagne.

  “Most of them are either politicians or owners of big companies.”

  Mack nodded to another group, mostly men, mostly older, all smoking cigars and standing in a circle. “Those guys are into women. Pretty women.”

  “Hookers?” I asked. Maybe that was King’s clique.

  “No. Movie stars, aristocrats, only A-listers. Vaughn does a lot of transactions within that group.”

  Holy crap. Just then, Ashlee Randall and Mai Ling Choo, two extremely famous actresses, strolled by sipping martinis.

  Mack reached out and gave his head a little shake, cautioning me not to stare. But how could I not? They’d both received Oscars this year. They were beautiful and glamorous. Why would they be part of this depravity?

  “Mia.” He cautioned me again.

  I sighed quietly and nodded, trying to recall what I’d been saying.

  Oh yes. “Why did Vaughn want me?”

  “King told him you were the illegitimate daughter of some Russian prince.”

  Okay. So Vaughn liked high-end trophy women. “I thought no one was supposed to know what everyone else collected,” I asked.

  “Most of these things are for fun, for socializing, like belonging to a golf or tennis club. The real cutthroat deals, what people are really after, are kept close to the vest, but everyone has suspicions.”

  “What about King?” I asked. “What’s his hobby? Power, women?”

  “King doesn’t need more power, and I’ve never seen him want to be with a woman longer than one night.”

  “If that’s the case, what’s he in this for?” I couldn’t help but sweep the crowd again with my eyes. There were so many familiar-looking people.

  No! Ten feet away, two very well-known tech CEOs conversed with an Arab man. Was that one of the Sauds, I wondered?

  That’s when I began to realize that 10 Club wasn’t just some underground social club for billionaires with illicit and depraved fetishes.

  “You’ll have to ask him,” Mack replied. “I don’t know. And I don’t care. But he seems to deal more with the less traditional types of commodities.”

  “Such as?” I asked.

  “The occult, as you’ve seen firsthand.”

  Two slender brunettes in their forties walked out to the patio and caught several looks from the crowd. Mack immediately noticed them, too. “There they are.”

  Mack and I approached the women. They both wore long black dresses and were about as thin as sipping straws. Their faces had that overdone, addicted-to-plastic surgery look.

  “Good evening, ladies.”

  Both women ogled Mack like that delicious candy bar they’d obviously been deprived of for years. “Mack, always a pleasure to see you. And who is your lovely friend.”

  “Anna and Talia, this is Mia Turner. She belongs to King.”

  Both women’s eyes lit up. “Did you say ‘belongs to King’?”

  Mack lifted my wrist and showed them. Of course, I found all of these depraved rules to be shocking as hell and downright offensive, but why these two twigs were flabbergasted was beyond me.

  “Wow.” Anna practically gasped her words with disdain while looking me over. “I never thought I’d live to see the day.”

  “King is full of surprises,” Mack said. “He’s also in the mood to make some trades tonight.”

  Talia’s eyes lit up. “Oh, this is going to be a good party. Does he still have that serum?”

  Mack nodded. “Yes, it’s the last vial.”

  Of course, I immediately wondered what the hell this serum was. I’d have to ask later.

  “And what is he asking for in return?” Anna asked.

  “Seems that his tracker found herself with a hole in her body. He’d like yours.”

  Talia’s brown eyes, heavy with smoky eye shadow, lit up. “He’s mad. He can’t have her. I need her for another acquisition.”

  Mack’s blue eyes exuded charm. “You know King will make it worth your while.”

  “Mmmm…Do you mean he’ll throw you in, too, Mack? I think I might like to have you for a while. I’d treat you better than that bitch Miranda.”

  The conversation had gone from strange to upsetting. I just couldn’t believe that these “civilized people” were standing around, sipping champagne, talking about trading human beings. It was wrong on so many levels.

  And you belong to the human pantry. Good job, Mia. Reach high.

  “No,” Mack said politely, “sadly, I am not on the table tonight. Nor do I ever plan to be. But King knows you’ve been looking for the services of a Seer. He says he’ll loan you one.”

  What the hell? I looked at Mack. “He can’t do that.” Maybe these sick people lived by their creepy rules, but I didn’t.

  Anna smiled wickedly. “My dear Mia, are you his Seer?”

  Mack quickly redirected. “Mia is King’s special toy. Nothing more. The Seer happens to be a friend of hers.”

  Suspicion flickered in Anna’s and Talia’s eyes.

  “Fine. Tell King I’ll loan him my tracker for two weeks in exchange for the serum. Two weeks. And tell him that she’d better come back alive and in working condition. As for his Seer, tell him to call me. I want to talk about a more permanent arrangement.”

  Mack nodded his head and placed his palm on my lower back. I had to admit, he did make me feel safe. “As usual, it’s been a pleasure.”

  Anna smiled. “Sure you don’t want a little extra pleasure tonight, Mack? I don’t fly back to Italy until the morning.”

  “Perhaps next time. I need to return Mia to King this evening. You know how he is about his toys and punctuality.”

  Talia rolled her eyes. “Yes. King is a pill. But I’ll forgive him because he fucks like a hungry wolf.”

  “I think he fucks like a silky black panther in a man’s skin,” said Anna. “Just hearing him growl makes me come.”

  “You’re his toy. What do you think, Mia?” Anna asked. “Wolf or panther?”

  The two women stared expectantly, and I was almost too shocked to respond.

  I looked at my feet and attempted to hide my revulsion. I hated thinking that King was a part of all this. I loathed the thought that he’d slept with these horrible excuses for human beings and that he’d likely done it because he wanted something from them at one point. Crap. I even hated myself for feeling this way. Possessive. Jealous. Petty. King wasn’t mine, but a part of me wanted him to be. It was like some primal code of morality radiating deep inside my chest. If I belonged to him, didn’t he belong to me?

  “I don’t know,” I said. “He seems like just a man to me.” My gaze toggled between the two women. “One with an insatiable thirst for a real woman who can take everything he can dish and give it right back without snapping under his weight. By the way, you should try eating sometime. It could help fill in all those cracks in your souls.”

  Both women raised their brows.

  Mack cleared his throat. “Well, we must
be going now. Time to get back to San Francisco.”

  “It’s been a pleasure, Mia,” said Anna acerbically.

  “Yeah. Fantastic.”

  Mack hurried me back inside. As soon as we were out of earshot of the women, he stopped me. “Mia, I thought you understood.”

  “What?” I asked. “Those women were disgusting.”

  “You’re missing the point. They have something we need. And…fuck.” He combed his fingers through his golden head of hair. “What was that?”

  I looked away, feeling ashamed of myself for losing control.

  “Please don’t tell me you have feelings for him, Mia.”

  My eyes snapped to his. “No, I don’t.”

  “Then what the hell was that?”

  I shrugged. “Nothing. I just didn’t like the way they spoke about King. I didn’t like the way they spoke about you, either. We’re not animals. We’re people.”

  Mack released a breath toward the ground and shook his head. “It sounded like more than that to me.”

  “It wasn’t.”

  “Fine.” He gripped my shoulders and looked down at me. Funny. It was the way Justin would grab me when he wanted to make a point. “Whatever you do, Mia, don’t become emotionally invested in him. He’s not that type of person.”

  “King is the last man on Earth I’d ever feel anything for. He agreed to find my brother. That’s it.”

  He pinched my chin. “I hope you’re telling the truth.”

  “I am.” King was a means to an end. And I was, well, his, I supposed. At least in the eyes of the people belonging to this depraved world who thought it was okay to own people.

  “Let’s get the hell out of here.”

  “Okay. But I really need to hit the loo.” I smiled. “Too much champagne.”

  Mack walked me down a long hall to a door. “I’ll wait here, and hurry the hell up before you start a real fight. With that dress, it’s only a matter of time.”

  “Ha.” I entered the bathroom and locked the door behind me.

  “Hello, Mia.” A sickly, cold hand smothered my scream as my body slammed against the wall.

  “Mia?” Mack knocked on the door. “Are you all right?”

  Vaughn’s beady eyes were an inch from my face. “Tell him you tripped. Tell him you’re fine, or I’ll fucking gut you like a fish.”