“Motherfucker!” Justin ran his hands through his hair. “How? How did this happen?” he fumed.
Don’t get me wrong. Justin was my “little” brother, a year younger than me, but he was a huge guy, like my dad. He could’ve been a linebacker if he’d wanted, but his passion had been bones and stones, aka archaeology. Regardless, when he got mad, he was pretty scary.
“I’ll fucking kill him! Did King touch you?” Justin asked.
I wasn’t expecting Justin to be happy, but his reaction was much more emotional than I expected.
I held out my hands, trying to calm him. “No one’s touched me.” Exactly.
“Don’t lie to me, Mia.” He grabbed my wrist. “I know what that means. It’s a brand members use to mark their significant other.”
My brain did a double take. “What do you mean, ‘significant other’?”
He shook his head. “Mia, you know exactly what I mean.”
“You mean spouse?” But that wouldn’t make any sense.
“No. Spouses can be divorced.”
I blinked several times, and my brain started to cramp.
“You really don’t know?” he asked.
“No. I really, really don’t.” But he was scaring the hell out of me.
“King claimed you as his.”
“Yeah, I know. As his property,” I argued, trying to avoid the slippery slope I feared was coming.
“No. It means you’re his most prized possession. It means he’s chosen you to…” Justin cleared his throat, “be his.”
I felt my blood pressure plummet. “Meaning?”
“It’s like,” he searched for the words, “you’re married, but there is no divorce option—only death.”
“What? That’s not possible. He doesn’t…We’re not…I mean—he would have told me…”I stopped my ridiculous thought right there. “Married?”
“Married isn’t the right word. It’s more like an extreme form of ownership. The Club members are allowed to make one person completely off-limits. Most of them pick someone they love or at least want. A lot. Romantically.”
Huh? That couldn’t be right. It just…couldn’t. “How do you know all this?”
Justin hesitated for a moment. “I, uh…went to Vaughn’s place once. I saw another woman with a brand and asked about it. Hers was a ‘V.’”
I wanted to stop and allow myself a moment to feel extreme pity for that woman because there could be no worse fate in this world than belonging to Vaughn. However, my mind was too busy reeling with powerful emotions of my own. King had branded me, but not just as his property. He’d branded me as his…his…I didn’t know what to call it.
“I didn’t agree to this!” I protested in vain. “And he never said anything.”
“Look at the man, Mia. Do you think him or any of the people in that club ask permission?”
“No. I saw him sleep with some random woman.” I didn’t actually see King having sex with her, but he had. And he’d made no apologies for it either. Not that I would expect one because we weren’t a couple. Still, the weirdest part had been that she looked like me, and I could’ve sworn he wanted me to see them together, that he’d wanted to make me jealous.
Justin slowly shook his head. “Only the person wearing the mark has to be monogamous, Mia. He owns you, not the other way around.”
Holy Christ. I held my hand over my mouth. Did King really think he could possess me like this? As his exclusive sex toy, whom he could do with as he pleased? Then there was the issue that the tattoo could be used by King to track me down at any time. With it, he could also control me like a mindless robot by merely laying his hand over it.
“Did the woman say anything about,” I swallowed, knowing how ridiculous I would sound, “her tattoo’s powers or how to remove it?”
Justin looked at me kind of funny. “No.” He shook his head hesitantly. “The tattoo didn’t have any powers. Why are you asking?”
“Are you sure? Did you ask her?”
“No, Mia. But as far as I saw, it was a tattoo. Nothing else. Are you saying yours…does stuff?”
“Everything. For him, anyway.” I covered my face and groaned, putting all the pieces together. When King and I went to Palenque in search of Justin, King lured me to an ancient Mayan temple. Scared out of my mind, I passed out. And when I woke up the next morning, I discovered he’d tattooed me. Yes, while I was passed out, the bastard. Then he’d said that he “borrowed” some of the temple’s energy to unlock my Seer abilities and to mark me. But, of course, this was just another of King’s half-truths. Because he didn’t just mark me with a letter “K,” he’d somehow connected us with it. And now, I understood the full meaning. He’d performed some creepy, 10 Club marriage ritual and gave it the “King special upgrade.” Dammit. The bastard even served me champagne that night before we left!
Then I started thinking about all of the other weird stuff he’d said. How he’d admitted once that he wanted me but was willing to wait like he had all the time in the world. It was because he believed he did. What was the hurry when he already owned me and saw me as his personal game of sexual chess?
Then, stupid me, I’d believed that his actions—saving my mother and my brother—were signs of genuine compassion. But the man was simply manipulating me, wanting to see if he could win me over. After all, it was always about the challenge for the Club’s members, wasn’t it? King was no exception.
Fuck. And what an ass I’d been.
Justin floated his hand over my back. “This is my fault. If I hadn’t gotten involved with Vaughn, none of this would have happened.”
Oh my God. Vaughn…This just kept getting worse. I hadn’t told Justin about the party or the fact that Vaughn attacked me and lost his arm when King tore it off of him.
“Well,” I said, “if you know how depraved Vaughn is, then you understand my life is over no matter what I do. If I don’t find King, Vaughn plans to take me.” And pick the flesh from my bones, as he’d said. “If I find King, then I end up being his prized toy.”
Justin looked livid. I felt livid. One man wanted to kill me. The other wanted to own me—inside and out.
Don’t give up, Mia. Yes, my chances of living if I ended up in Vaughn’s hands were zero. However, my chances of living in King’s hands were good. If King survived, I would, too. That meant I’d also live to find a way out of being “his.”
Bastard can want me, but he’ll never have me.
“Justin, you have to tell me,” I pleaded, “anything you know. Anything at all about where to find King.”
He covered his face and groaned with frustration. “Fuck.”
“Stop saying that. Tell me what happened with Vaughn. King told me you were planning a trap or something.”
Justin bobbed his head. “Vaughn had been hunting me for weeks and finally found me. When he did, he made it clear that he’d kill me, you, Mom, and Dad because I welched on our deal and ran with the Artifact. He said all I had to do was call King and set up a meeting and use the Artifact as bait. That was it.”
“Then what happened?” I asked.
“Not much. I contacted King and set up the meeting. Later, though, he called and said Mom was sick. He also knew Vaughn was pulling my strings, but promised to ‘take care’ of him.”
I knew that wasn’t the entire story because with King, there had to be a deal. “What did he want in return?”
“Not much. He just asked me to deliver the Artifact and continue pretending to work for Vaughn.”
“And the last time you spoke to King? Did you see him in person?” I asked.
“No. He called. He told me to drop the Artifact at some address in London, which turned out to be an empty apartment. Then he said to get on a plane home.”
I scratched my head. “And you’re sure it was King calling you?”
Justin shrugged. “It sounded like him.”
“Did you get a look at the Artifact?”
“Yes. I’m the one who d
ug it up.”
“What is it?” I couldn’t believe Justin had actually seen it.
“A rock.”
“A rock?” I asked. I guess I’d been expecting an ancient tablet or some sort of holy relic like a grail. But a rock?
“Actually, I guess it’s more of a stone. About the size of a grape.”
“What does it do?” I asked.
Justin shook his head. “I don’t have a fucking clue, but when I held that thing in my hand, it practically burned a hole right through it. And…”
“What?”
Justin scratched his head. “I don’t really know how to explain it. It made me see things. Horrible things.”
“Like what?”
He stared at his feet for a moment and shrugged. “They were faces of people screaming and crying.”
I cringed. “What did they say?”
“I couldn’t understand them, but whatever that rock is, it’s evil. Really evil.”
I blew out a breath. The Artifact was a rock. An evil rock. “Didn’t Vaughn mention anything?”
Justin shook his head no. “Not really. He said it was a stupid, worthless piece of crap that only King would be foolish enough to trade his life for. In fact, Vaughn couldn’t understand why I’d run when I found it.”
“Why did you run?” Because when he had, Vaughn killed Justin’s entire team in retribution.
Justin shrugged. “I got scared. I knew the Artifact was something dangerous and was going to get rid of it, but I couldn’t shake Vaughn’s men. Of course, the fact they were after me only confirmed it was something they shouldn’t have. They’re not nice people, Mia.”
“Dammit, Justin.” I shook my head. None of this had to happen. “So the last time you talked to King was right before you dropped the Artifact in the empty apartment in London?”
“Yes.”
All right. King knew Vaughn would be waiting but would have attempted to retrieve the Artifact anyway. King said he would be prepared, so had something gone wrong? Or had they snagged King before he even got to the apartment?
“I’m hosed. Hosed.” I looked at my watch. Now I felt like King, always checking the time. Only King had a weird tattoo of a sundial on his wrist that he looked at instead. I never learned why. “I have to go. Tell Mom and Dad I’ll be back in the morning.” I hoped.
“Wait.” Justin grabbed my arm to prevent me from leaving. “Where are you going?”
“I have less than twenty-four hours to make good on King’s debts or I’m toast.”
“Let me talk to Vaughn,” Justin argued. “Maybe I can make a deal with him.”
“With what, Justin?” I yelled. “Your life again?” I shoved my finger in his face. “No more deals, Justin. That’s why we’re in this mess. And the last thing Mom needs is to have both kids disappear.”
“Mia, I can’t let them take you.”
“They won’t. I’ll figure this out. I just have to find out what King had on his plate and…” I swallowed, “be him.” I could do this. I could be King, especially if I had Mack’s help. I just prayed that whatever deals he’d made and services he’d committed to perform didn’t include hunting for heads.
“Mia, I’m sorry for all of this. If I’d known at the time—”
“It’s okay.” I held out my hand. “I know you didn’t mean for this to happen. It’ll be okay. I’ll fix this. I’ll find King.” And I’ll get out of being his.
I hoped. Oh Lord, I hoped.
“I’ll call you later,” I said and marched down the stairs toward the exit. When I got outside, the rain started to pour. I looked up at the night sky, cursing my “blessed” luck. Why did it always seem to rain when my life was at its worst and I was in need of a cab?
I’d give anything for an Arno right now. Especially since the clock was ticking.
~~
9:30 P.M.
After thirty minutes, I finally flagged down a cab and made it back to the warehouse. I felt eternally grateful that the driver knew his alternate routes because traffic was a nightmare. San Francisco was an incredibly small city, seven by seven miles. That made the trip to just about anywhere inside city limits a short journey, provided the cars were actually moving, which most of the time, they weren’t.
I paid the driver and dashed out into the pouring rain, heading for the warehouse door. I shoved my hand in my pocket for the key, and when I did, I somehow slipped that enormous ring on my finger. It was like the damned thing wanted to be there. When I pulled my hand back out, gripping the key, the ring was firmly stuck. Yes. On the ring finger.
What the…? I shook my hand, trying to get the creepy thing off while unlocking the door, but it just wouldn’t budge. I found it disturbing, just as I did the entire situation. Especially the part about King claiming me as his prized piece of ass. I mean, did the man think I wouldn’t find out the truth? Did he really believe he could manipulate me into accepting him in that way? And why couldn’t I stop that little tingle of excitement deep inside my stomach every time I looked at the ring?
Shit. Don’t start, Mia. I had to accept that King made me feel things I shouldn’t. But that didn’t make them real or right.
I pushed on the steel door and slipped inside the warehouse, shaking the rain from my hair. I slipped off my wet coat. “Hello? Mack?”
No answer.
He wasn’t back yet, and frankly I didn’t want to go exploring, especially on the second floor. Heads were on that floor. Live heads.
I shivered. I didn’t even want to think about why King would do such a heinous thing to anyone. Deserving or not, it was horrific. And they were still alive. Alive!
How’s that even possible? What is he?
Your betrothed? Again, my stomach tingled.
No. Stop that. I looked at the ring again and tried to slip it off. The damned thing was stuck. Seriously stuck. Great. I’m useless. Totally usel—
When the sound of classical music caught my attention, I held my breath. Where the hell is that coming from? Did I really want to find out?
“Mack? Is that you?”
No reply.
“Heads? Is that you?”
Thankfully, there was no reply either.
Before I realized it, I was halfway down the center aisle, heading toward the bank of stairs on the opposite side of the warehouse. The music grew louder as I got closer.
“Hello?” I stopped and was about to return toward the entrance, but something started to pull, telling me that I had to continue up the stairs despite the action being against my better judgment.
In fact, it felt like… King?
I shuffled up the stairs, passed the second-floor landing, and followed the soft sounds. The horrible, menacing vibe that had been present before was completely gone now. In fact, the air was fragrant with spices and the delicious scent of King’s cologne.
Oh my God. It is him! I was saved.
I leaped my way up the stairs, taking two at a time. When I reached the third floor, however, I didn’t find what I’d hoped.
I gasped. There was a heavy iron door right at the top of the stairs, blocking any possible entrance from the stairwell.
Where had it come from? I pressed my ear to the cold door. Yes, there was loud music playing inside.
“King!” I pounded on the door. “King!”
The door creaked open as if moving on its own, and the music stopped.
I stood there and stared in disbelief. There was no King inside, but the empty space was now filled. And not just with sculptures, furniture, and bookshelves that covered almost every wall, but the space was filled with color. Purple.
This is King’s place. This was where he lived.
But why hadn’t we seen it before? The “K” tattoo on my arm began to tingle and itch. It reminded me of the times that King’s emotions were elevated. Or when you feel his eyes on you when he’s nowhere to be found.
Was King somehow there now, watching me? It sounded insane, but when it came to King’
s abilities, anything was possible. The man could appear out of thin air, get inside my head, and make me feel things simply by looking into my eyes.
Was King somehow allowing me to see this place?
I stepped inside and inhaled deeply. King’s seductive scent permeated the air and gave me an unexpected sense of excitement.
How is this possible? How am I seeing this?
The place looked like one of those giant loft apartments you’d see in New York, perhaps something an artist might live in. Only this was the home of a very wealthy, mysterious, controlling man. Rich, dark area rugs, natural-colored hardwood floors, and furniture that had clean and simple lines. No real frills, absolutely nothing frilly, and no walls to divide the living spaces, except for what appeared to be a bathroom to my right.
In one corner stood a giant bed covered in dark gray linens and tons of enormous fluffy pillows—reds and blacks. They oddly reminded me of the Artifact, but that thing, at least the energy it left behind, had a strange pattern to it, like little diamond shapes or crisscrosses. Then there was a small kitchen area—black granite counters, industrial-sized stainless steel fridge, but no stove or oven. There was, however, a large walk-in wine cellar made of glass. So the man had nothing to cook with, but had a lot of cooling capacity. That oddly fit King.
The living room, where I stood, had one simple black leather couch next to a coffee table stacked with old books. There was also a funky antique leather armchair with carved wooden trim that almost reminded me of a throne. I could practically see King sitting there in his casual black T-shirt and faded button flies, digging through one of these books.
My eyes wandered over the rest of the space. It wasn’t homey or comfortable. It was more functional and slightly sterile. Like he stayed there, but didn’t live there.
Had he wanted me to find this place? If yes, then why?
Maybe he wanted you to see where he intends to turn you into his love slave, I mentally growled while my eyes wandered back over to the shelves that ran along both sides of the room about halfway through the space. I counted ten tiers of shelves filled with leather-bound books.