KING OF ME (THE KING TRILOGY Book 3)

by Mimi Jean Pamfiloff

  “Mexico. Seriously?”

  “Yeah. How do you think the Artifact got all the way there? It didn’t fly.”

  “Wait. How did you get the Artifact?”

  “I grabbed it by accident. Before I left the island that night, I returned to my brother’s room to take jewels for money and the dagger he owned. Later, I discovered the stone in the bottom of the basket I’d used to carry everything. I demanded the Spiros take me back to you, but they refused—or couldn’t, actually, because of your curse. And since I wouldn’t entrust it to anyone, I carried it with me everywhere for safekeeping, hoping someday I’d be able to return it to you. When I died, I asked a good friend, a local man I’d met, to see to it that my things, including the rock, were buried in a marked grave. Hell, I didn’t know what else to do, and the Spiros couldn’t be trusted to help me once my body was cold.”

  I could understand why. Once Callias died, that freed them from their obligation to look after him. I bet they’d been on the first frigging canoe, or whatever, home. But that kind of sucked he didn’t find happiness. He deserved it. I really felt that.

  “Believe it or not, though,” he said, “Kan, my friend, ordered the Spiros to have my body brought back to Greece to be buried with my family.”

  “Kan?”

  “The king,” he replied.

  “King Kan?”

  Mack frowned.

  “Sorry.” I held up my hand, acknowledging that now was not the time to make giant gorilla jokes.

  He jerked his head. “No one knows what happened after that; they never made it home—probably died at sea. But my things were buried in Palenque. That’s why it took King and me so long to find the Artifact. No one knew the temple existed, or thought to look for it in Mexico. We assumed it was on the bottom of the ocean. By the way, do you have any clue how many dives we’ve been on over the last five hundred years?”

  I shook my head absentmindedly, thinking about how strange it was; the way everything connected. My brother would later be the person to unearth Callias’s things. Was it a coincidence?

  In any case, I thanked Mack for answering my question and stepped toward the small stairs. “Goodbye, Mack. Thank you for everything.”

  “Goodbye, Mia. And good luck.”

  I flashed a meek little smile at him and stepped out. I wondered where he would go next or if I’d ever see him again.

  “But, Mia,” Mack called out. “I did find a good woman. She just wasn’t destined to love me back.”

  The pilot closed the door, and I stood there for a moment. Had he meant that he’d loved me? But we’d only spent that one evening talking and…

  I shook my head. No. He must’ve meant someone else.

  He betrayed his brother for you, Mia. Something you said he’d never do.

  Callias, I’m so sorry. None of this seemed fair, like we were all destined to suffer. Fucking Greek tragedy from hell.

  I stared at that helicopter as the blades sped up and whipped the air. Wherever Mack was going, I hoped he’d find happiness.

  I turned and headed toward the gleaming white modern Greek palace, with its sharp angles and large tinted windows, perched on a cliff that housed the sleeping cursed king. My King.

  ~~~

  Once inside, I was greeted by Ypirétria number…hell, we had to be up to five thousand or so by now. Stefanos was nowhere to be found, but I assumed he’d show. After all, this was it; the curse would finally be broken and his family would be free.

  With a solemn face, she silently showed me to my private room. I wondered if she’d heard the news—what King had done to me.

  She turned on the shower and laid out a slip and a simple white dress that reminded me of what I wore in Minoa. I thanked her and shut the door after she left.

  I stepped into the shower and let the hot water wash over me. I scrubbed and scrubbed until my skin felt raw, but it was no use. No amount of soap and water would make me feel clean again. Everything felt so…so…poisoned.

  I held back the tears, shut off the water, and dried myself. With a towel wrapped around my body, I sat on the edge of the bed and stared at the phone on the nightstand. Slowly, I reached for it and dialed.

  Within a few rings my mother’s voice came through from the other end. “Hello?”

  “Hi, Mom. It’s me.”

  “Dear Lord. Mia, where have you been?”

  “I’m sorry. I was…” How long had it been since I’d seen her? In my mind, it felt like ages. But in her reality it had only been about a week. “Taking care of some business.”

  “You should’ve called. We were worried sick.” I heard my father’s deep voice in the background asking if it was me on the phone.

  “I know. I just…”

  “You don’t need to explain, honey. I know this is just as painful for you as it is for us.”

  She referred to Justin’s death. But I’d told them that he wasn’t dead. I’d told them that he was fine. All because I’d planned to bring him back.

  “But he’s not—”

  “Mia,” she said sternly, “you have to listen to me. He is gone. And he’s not coming back. You have to accept it.”

  I didn’t know what to say.

  “But I promise,” she said, “with time, things will get better. It just won’t be today…” Her voice faded into a throaty deep sob.

  I could no longer hold back my own tears. “But what if he’s not gone? What if you could see him again?”

  “Mia, that’s not going to happen. So, please, just come home, I’m begging you,” she cried. “We need to bury our son.”

  I underestimated my mother. Instead of completely falling apart, she was trying to help me face my own pain. And in that moment, I felt a great big weight lift from my shoulders. She would be all right. She would make it through this somehow, though it wouldn’t be easy.

  But that doesn’t make your choice any easier. Like Mack, I still loved my brother even though he might have lost his way and done some very, very bad things. But that was where I had to step back. I could not make my decision based on what other people told me, or thought of him. That would be like telling a mother to stop loving her child because he or she committed a crime. Love didn’t work like that. As for Justin, I had no clue what he had or hadn’t done, so I could only follow what I knew to be true in my heart: Justin was good. And sometimes good people did bad things—no one in this world was completely without fault. No one. But wasn’t that the purpose of family? They loved you no matter what. Otherwise, many of us with shaded pasts would be forever lost, with no reason to seek redemption. Love was what brought us back from our darkness, what restored us from the pain of our mistakes.

  So maybe that was my true purpose in all of this: To be brave enough to love the unlovable. Only, now I had to choose which man really deserved a second chance.

  “Mia? Are you still there?” said my mother.

  “Sorry. What were you saying?”

  “I’ll feel much better once you are home. Where are you?”

  “I’m…” Dammit. The less she knew the better, but I didn’t have the energy to lie anymore. “I’m on the next possible flight home. I’ll call you before my flight leaves. Okay?”

  “Uh…okay.” She knew something was up and that I wasn’t going to tell her. “We’ll see you soon. We love you.”

  “I love you guys, too.” I hung up and stared at the floor for a few minutes, thinking about Justin. Growing up, he reminded me so much of my mother. Their selfless attitudes. I wondered at what point his life steered off course. If I’d known, maybe I could’ve stopped it.

  That’s it. I can save them both. My heart cartwheeled inside my chest. I’d been too tired and too in shock to see the options. If I had the ability to “see” for myself, then I could change the outcome of his fate. At least, I hoped I could.

  I threw on the slip and dress, and dashed from the room, not bothering with my wet, sloppy hair. I ran toward King’s chamber, hoping he was there.


  “Stefanos!” I called out, pushing the door to King’s room.

  There, laid out cold on the bed, was King, shirtless and wearing his black jeans.

  Stefanos stood to his side, still dressed in his police uniform, talking to another man. One of his brothers, I guessed.

  “Stefanos, do you have the rock?” Because last I’d heard, King had acquired it, along with Vaughn, who’d had it in his possession.

  He looked at me, obviously curious as to why I was so excited.

  “Yes. Have you chosen?” he replied.

  I nodded. “Give it to me.”

  He waited, expecting me to speak. I responded by sticking out my hand.

  Stefanos narrowed his brown eyes and then pulled the rock from his pocket and handed it over.

  I stared at the thing, amazed by how it had colors of its own now as if the thing had a soul. Red and black. The colors of death and pain. It made sense given the connection to King and how it bound him to this world even after death.

  I sat down on the bed and stared at King’s exquisitely handsome face. Even now, it was impossible to believe that he wasn’t a real man. But inside him, a war raged between the curse and his soul.

  I reached out and touched his face. “I hope you’ll forgive me some day for what I put you through.”

  Likely on his last ounce of patience, Stefanos wrapped his hands around the dagger sticking from King’s neck. “Are you ready?”

  I looked up at him and nodded. “Ready.”

  I closed my eyes, focused my energy on the stone in my hand, and squeezed it. Please work. Please work. But after a few moments, I realized it wasn’t going to crack.

  “What are you waiting for?” Stefanos asked.

  “I can’t break it.”

  He narrowed his eyes and then glanced at his brother, who hung back near the door. “Get her a hammer.”

  I smiled sheepishly. “Sorry.”

  Stefanos continued glaring.

  Yeah, I finally understood why they hated me but also felt compelled not to harm me—it was not in King’s best interest, and their curse bound them to put his happiness ahead of their own. “I only meant for the Spiros to protect Callias. I swear it.”

  He bobbed his head. “Did you have to bind our curse to a handful of sand?”

  I grimaced. His point was that there was no way to undo their curse other than King’s curse ending. “…until he finds peace” were my words.

  “I’m sorry. I really mean it.” The decision to curse the Spiros had been in the heat of the moment, but that didn’t undo the damage. Nevertheless, the only thing to do now was make things right.

  His brother returned a few minutes later with a regular old hammer. He handed it to me, and I kneeled on the floor, positioning the rock between my fingers as if holding a nail.

  I looked up at Stefanos. “Ready?”

  He nodded.

  Here goes. I swung hard, and the rock shattered into a million tiny pieces. When I looked up, Stefanos had pulled the knife from King’s neck. We exchanged glances—him looking at the clean knife that hadn’t left any wounds, me looking at the shattered stone—both wondering why nothing happened.

  “Give it a second.” I held up my hand to silence him and closed my eyes. Please come back to me. Please. I channeled every ounce of love I had for King—my King—thinking of every instance when I’d been offered a glimpse of the sinfully seductive, infinitely powerful man whose fearlessness and loyalty knew no bounds. He was the man who didn’t shy away from the hard choices—killing, being killed—or acting ruthless when circumstances required. And despite his situation, he never asked for anyone’s pity. Instead, he used his pain and sorrow to his advantage and took control. I not only loved King, but I admired him.

  King’s aura burst from his chest and swirled around him. Purple at first, then quickly separating to red and blue before evaporating like steam.

  “What’s happening?” Stefanos asked.

  “I think it’s working.”

  King’s light transitioned to a vivid apple green. “He’s coming back.”

  But as soon as I said that, the light darkened.

  “Oh shit.” I didn’t know what to say. “I choose you! I choose you to come back.” His light faded. “No! No! Goddammit, King. You can’t do this to me.” Panicked, I jumped up and grabbed the sides of his face. “King. Can you hear me?” I looked at Stefanos. “What’s wrong? What am I doing wrong?” We couldn’t come this far and fail. We couldn’t. “King, you sonofabitch. You arrogant, stubborn bastard.” I shook him by the shoulders as his color continued to fade. “I’m choosing you! Take back your life.”

  He lay there, the color in his bronzed face fading to a pale, pale taupe. “No…” I sobbed. Why didn’t it work? “You can’t leave. I love you.”

  I kissed his cool lips and dropped my forehead onto his bare chest. “Please,” I sobbed, knowing this was my punishment for what I’d done to him. That’s when I realized that no matter what, I would have chosen King. It was the horrible, selfish truth. I could survive anything except losing him again.

  “Are you just saying that to be nice? Because I assure you, Miss Turner, your compliments will not buy you forgiveness.”

  I looked up. “King?”

  He cracked open one big blue eye.

  “Ohmygod!” I screamed, feeling a happiness I’d never dreamed possible. I leaned forward and squeezed his face. I attacked his plump delicious lips with kisses. “Ohmygod. Ohmygod,” was all I could say. I kissed him again and again.

  He smiled brightly and slowly pushed me back. “I can’t breathe.”

  I drank him in and sighed with joy. “Your eyes are blue. So damned blue.” And his skin had returned to a healthy olive brown. “You’re so beautiful.”

  He flashed that wicked little smile, but didn’t speak. Instead, he simply beamed.

  “How do you feel?” asked Stefanos.

  King glanced up at him. “Alive and…hungry. I’m really, really hungry.”

  “You’re…hungry?” I asked.

  He looked at me. “Yes. And not just for food.”

  My heart accelerated and my core fluttered. Every inch of my body screamed with joy. Then let’s get that man something to eat. He’ll need his strength!

  King chuckled quietly, clearly weak.

  “You can still read my thoughts?” I asked.

  He nodded. “Apparently so.”

  Then you should know that I’m so, so sorry for everything.

  His smile didn’t diminish. “We have much to discuss. But later. We will speak later.”

  Right. He was hungry, and it was time to enjoy this moment.

  I stood up. “I’ll go tell Ypirétria. What do you want to eat?”

  As I waited for King to answer, his light suddenly flickered to blue—sorrow. I froze and his expression turned to horror.

  I was about to ask him what was the matter, but then I felt something warm and wet all over my chest. I looked down and noticed I was covered in blood. The blood poured from my neck, and the pain was like nothing I’d ever experienced.

  “Mia!” King jumped from the bed and caught me before I hit the floor. Everything was such a blur, but from the corner of my eye, I caught Stefanos. He dropped a small, bloody knife on the floor to my side.

  King frantically tried to stop the blood from flowing. “No. No. God dammit, no.” I felt the life draining from my body, my fingertips and toes going numb.

  “Why the fuck did you do that? I will kill you!” King raged.

  “The curse is lifted. You found peace. And I needed to be sure this Seer bitch would never ruin another life.”

  In the back of my mind, I tried to make sense of what he said. King had found peace. That was my requirement for the Spiros being set free. I never said what sort of peace or that it had to be lasting.

  “I will hunt and kill every last one of you!”

  “No. You will only kill me and my brother. And we are prepared to
die. A small price to pay for justice for my entire family.”

  I made a tiny gurgle and looked up at King, unable to speak with my mouth. It’s okay, King. It’s my karma. Just…promise me you’ll look after my parents.

  His hands covered in my blood, he brushed the hair from my face. “You cannot leave me now. You cannot.”

  I don’t have a choice. Can’t curse myself.

  “I love you, Mia. I will find a way to bring you back. I promise.”

  No, please. No more. Just…live the life I gave you back.

  And just like that, my life faded away to nothing. This time, there was no sense of peace or acceptance, only sorrow. Sorrow and then blackness.

  ~~~

  My heart cannot begin to comprehend what I see before me. It is a vision of both the utmost horror and of the purest untainted joy a man can experience. Because before me I see Mia. The blood flows from a deep gash in her neck into a crimson pool. Yet, in her eyes I see what a man like me has forever dreamed of: redemption.

  There is nothing but love to be seen in those shimmering depths of blue as she looks at me. The sensation is humbling. I do not deserve her love. But I have it. And in me she does not see my past or my crimes. She does not see the actions that will forever haunt me. She simply sees me. A man.

  My mind abruptly breaks away from this glimpse into paradise and slams full speed into a place I know all too well. Hate. Rage. Revenge. I may no longer be cursed, but I am still a product of my time, not above violence.

  “I will not kill you, Stefanos; I will rip you apart, piece by piece.”

  He says nothing and lifts his chin. The man knows it is no use to run from someone like me. I am the man who can find anything or anyone.

  I look down at Mia and see the light slip from her eyes. I do not want to share this moment, her last breath, with anyone. I want it to belong to me. And only me.

  “Leave! I will deal with you later,” I yell.

  Stefanos and his brother exit the room, the room I built for Mia, my queen. A room that I’d intended to spend long, slow nights making love to her. This was to be her palace, the place where we would rewrite our story.