“How did you even know him?”
He shrugged. “A man with my particular interests in the rare and unusual must have a vast network of eyes always on the lookout. You’d be surprised what turns up in airports.” He sipped his scotch. “But Guzman was a vermin and untrustworthy. He deserved to die.”
“Oh.” I nodded slowly and polished off my drink. So those people had been murdered because of me. I didn’t know what to think other than I’d expected to feel a twinge of remorse but didn’t. Did that make me coldhearted and vengeful?
“You are not the first person, Miss Turner, who he laid his hands on. But you now bear the distinction of being the last.”
I contemplated his words, the facts he’d shared, and tried to believe the unbelievable. Still, it all felt like a bad, bad dream, and at any moment, I’d wake up. Justin would be calling me from Mexico, laughing as he told me about another button he’d found.
“So, are you ready?” King asked.
His imposing form rose from the edge of the bed, and he unbuttoned his shirt a little further.
“Ready for what?” I asked.
His head dipped and speared me with those predatory eyes. “Your punishment.”
My pulse immediately raced. “You’re joking, right?”
He began rolling up his left sleeve. “You might want to start humming one of those Beatles’ songs you like so much.”
“What are you doing?” My eyes searched for any sign he was joking.
He took a step closer, and I glanced at that strange tattoo on his forearm. “I’m going to give you a choice, Miss Turner. Pain or pleasure. Of course, the pleasure will be all mine.”
Huh? I leaned as far back as I could on the couch, but I was cornered with nowhere to go. Was he really going to do this? “I-I don’t understand.”
He took another step. He was so close, he could reach down and snap my neck if he wanted.
“We had a deal, Miss Turner.” He rolled up his right sleeve. “I would find your brother, and you would work for me indefinitely. You would obey me. You wouldn’t ask questions. So far, you’ve broken every part of our bargain.”
I eyed the glass in my hand. I could smash it in his face and get away. “You didn’t find my brother, so we’re even.”
He lifted his dark silky brows. “He’s right here in Edinburgh, as is the Artifact. You led me right to it, just as I suspected you might.”
I shook my whirling head. I couldn’t see straight. I couldn’t think straight. “That can’t be right. I got on the train. I didn’t know—”
“There are no coincidences in this game, Miss Turner. Now answer my question: pain or pleasure?”
I blinked. Was he really going to make me choose?
I had to act quickly. I jumped up and swung at his face with my glass. He caught my wrist in midair. I dropped the tumbler and shrieked in agony. His palm covered the brand on my wrist.
A sinister expression flickered in his beautiful silver eyes. “Then I will choose for you: pleasure.”
He squeezed my wrist and held me against his body. I felt a powerful burst of agonizing pain course through my veins. I felt like I was being cut and shredded from the inside out. I wanted to scream, but I couldn’t move my mouth or form a sound.
King whispered in my ear, “This is only a taste of me.”
It was then that I realized his question had been a trick. I was getting pain either way, and King would enjoy every bit of it.
“Bastard,” I managed to eke out before the room turned dark.
~ ~ ~
The next morning, I stretched my sore body in the soft silky sheets and groaned. Everything touching my skin felt so soothing, so warm, so luxurious.
“Mmmm…” I moaned and flipped onto my stomach. I smiled as the smell of warm bread and fresh coffee filled my nose. I yawned and stretched out my arms to enjoy the texture of the cool sheets at my side, but instead, I found warmth. My fingertips probed and slid. Smooth, firm skin greeted my touch.
Huh? I flattened my palm and reached a little further. I found a round pectoral muscle and soft little pebble of a man’s nipple.
“Shit!” I flipped over and sat up. King was lying next to me with his eyes closed, his plump, gorgeous lips relaxed. Dark lashes fanned across his upper cheeks, and his black stubble was a little thicker than usual. The white sheet was gathered around his nether region, but his chest, stomach, and lower abdomen were fully exposed.
What is he doing in bed with me? Naked, no less? As I thought this, my eyes were instantly drawn to the elaborate, black tribal tattoo that started at his collarbone and covered half of his pectoral muscles. It reminded me of those large Egyptian collars made of stone and metal beads that fanned around the neck to form a semicircle above one’s chest. Toward the center of the design, there was a small square filled with symbols, as though his tattooed necklace had a large pendent. It was beautiful.
My gaze took in the rest of the scenery filled with ripple after ripple of hard, menacing muscles all the way down to where a thin line of black hair, starting just beneath his belly button, disappeared underneath the sheet.
I sighed appreciatively. Physically, the man was an Adonis. Hard and lean. Strong and rough. Even the swells of his biceps and the taper of his neck to his shoulders were perfect.
My gaze fell a bit lower, and I caught something odd in my peripheral vision. Pink, pale skin. Me! Holy shit! Why am in my underwear? I scooped up the top of the sheet and covered my bra. The scene was eerily similar to the dream I’d had only a few days ago.
“From the sound of your frantic heartbeat and near-hysterical breathing,” King said, in a low, groggy voice with his eyes closed, “you must be awake.”
I was horrified. Had I had sex with King? With that…monster? “Why am I almost naked?”
He rolled over and gave me his back. “Because I fucked you like a beast.”
What? Those were the words he used in my dream.
“No. Please, please no.” I felt the unwanted tears welling in my eyes.
I watched his back inflate and then deflate with a heavy breath. “Don’t flatter yourself, Miss Turner,” he said calmly. “You’re not my type.”
“Why the hell are you naked in bed with me? Why am I in my underwear?”
“I removed your clothing and sent them to the wash after you passed out.”
Passed out. Passed out? The memories flooded my brain. The pain. Oh my god, the pain. He’d filled my entire body with deep, soul-crunching pain. And the look in his eyes, the way he enjoyed holding me as I agonized, unable to scream or cry, was horrific.
“You…son of a bitch!” I pounded on his back with my fists. I hit and clawed with every ounce of hatred and anger I had. “I’ll fucking kill you!”
King quickly rolled over and caught my arms, pinning me beneath him. “Calm down.”
I lifted my head and pressed my nose to his. “Calm down? You tortured me. You…hurt me.”
His eyes twitched. “I taught you a lesson. That is all. And if I wanted to really hurt you, your body certainly wouldn’t be in such pristine condition this morning.”
“The condition of my body isn’t what I’m talking about. You got inside my head. You…you…got inside…” My words tapered off when I suddenly realized that I had a naked man pinning my almost-naked body against the bed, our lips inches apart. I felt his heart beating against my breasts, the weight of him blanketing my body, the coarse hair between his legs pressing into my bare hip.
As if King had suddenly realized the same, his pale eyes locked onto mine. The fringe of black lashes and his thick black stubble made every elegant, masculine feature of his beautiful face more pronounced.
Then I felt the heat of his body and the flesh between his legs harden and elongate against my intimate juncture.
He stared into my eyes, and time seemed to stop. I didn’t know what to do. I was lost in the inexplicably erotic sensations triggered by our bodies touching.
How
could I be feeling like this after what he’d just done? It was impossible. Impossible! He had to be doing something to my head.
Slowly, perhaps hesitantly, he lowered his mouth to mine. I closed my eyes and felt my mind melt away into a blissful stream of physical sensations. The heat of his lips, the softness of his tongue slipping inside me, the rough maleness of his body.
A soft sigh escaped my lips as his kiss deepened. I opened my mouth further and allowed him to enter me, to stroke me. And each time he slid his tongue against mine, all I could think of was how good he would feel sliding between my thighs, deeper and deeper.
A dream. Another dream, I thought. Why do I always dream about King? There is no good inside him. But I wanted there to be. I did. Then these feelings would all make some sort of sense.
King began to push his rigid cock against me, slowly grinding and allowing me to enjoy the feel of our bodies pressing together, igniting. His hand released my wrist and slid down over my neck and shoulder to begin massaging my breast.
We were suddenly caught up in a cataclysmic frenzy of lust, driven by our bodies and not our minds. His hand then traveled from my breast to my hip and stopped behind my knee, where he gave it a little tug to widen my legs for him.
I groaned when the pressure of his cock hit that sensitive spot head-on.
He moved his mouth over my neck and nuzzled the tender area just below my ear. “I think I found a new punishment; the regret you’ll feel after we’re done.”
Punishment. My eyes sprang open. I looked around the room. Not a dream. Real!
I slammed my fist into the back of his shoulder. “Get off!”
He lifted his head and looked at me. “I believe that’s what I was about to do,” he said in that perfect, gentlemanly tone.
“Not with me, you won’t.” I pushed him away. “Get off me!”
He rolled over and then swung his feet to the floor, his bare back to me. I could see a strange pattern of scars, like crisscrosses over his entire back, as he panted from the exertion.
“Please. D-don’t do that again,” I stuttered.
He blew out a slow breath and then gave his neck a little crack. Without a word, he rose from the bed and headed for the bathroom. His ass was a work of art, perfectly formed, round hard mounds of muscle. I tried not to look. I tried not to let his raw masculinity affect me. But I’d never seen a man like him before.
“Your clothes will be here in a minute. Get dressed. We leave in ten.” He shut the bathroom door, and I took a moment to process. What had he done to me last night? And why, of all things, had he removed my clothes? What a complete SOB.
There was a light knock. I gathered up the bed sheet and wrapped it around my body. I winced as I made my way to answer the door. My entire body felt sore and tender, like I’d overdone it at the gym.
“Yes?” I looked into the hallway, and a young woman held out a bag.
“Yer clothes, Miss Turner.”
“Uh. Thanks.” I reached for them.
“And Mr. King says yer teh be downstairs in five minutes. The car’ll be waitin’.”
“Uhhh…” I glanced at the bathroom just a few feet away. I turned back to the woman. “Mr. King?”
She nodded. “Ay. I just saw him headin’ down.”
“But I-I…” I pointed to the bathroom. “Never mind. Thank you.”
I shut the door and stood outside the bathroom. I wanted to hurl. She couldn’t be right. I’d just seen King enter the bathroom. Was I losing my fucking mind?
I raised my hand to knock, but hesitated. What if he was still inside? Then who had she just seen?
“King?” I knocked on the door, but there was no answer. I pushed it open. Empty. The bathroom was empty.
What’s happening to me?
CHAPTER ELEVEN
I don’t know how I’d managed to dress, wash my face, brush my teeth, and make my way outside the hotel because I didn’t remember doing it. My thoughts had been wrapped around King. How had he disappeared like that? And last night, the way he’d gotten inside my head and chewed me up from the inside out, the way he tracked me down using the mark on my arm, and the way he possessed my body with insatiable lust. Who or what was King besides a dangerous enigma? My brain was stuck, trying to answer the question, but I kept landing on the exact same spot: I didn’t know.
Was it really possible for ordinary people to acquire extraordinary powers, as King said he had? Was there more to the world than what one simply saw on the surface?
Yes.
I’d seen the proof with my own eyes when I saw Brian, my brother’s dead roommate, along with the red swirling light above his grave. The existence of something else was real.
So what did that make me? I’d been so horrified and frantic, I hadn’t really been given the chance to let the last few days sink into my bones.
I was a Seer of Light. What did that mean?
“Miss Turner, we need to leave.”
Huh?
King’s voice emanated from a black Mercedes with tinted windows. He was in the driver’s seat, waiting.
Damn. I felt like I was in a walking coma.
“What the hell is taking you so long? I’ve been calling you for an entire minute,” he fumed.
I noticed how King looked exceptionally intimidating today in his dark blue suit, royal blue tie, and dark sunglasses.
I slipped into the sleek car and closed the door.
“Where’s Arno?” I asked, realizing I’d never seen King drive.
He rubbed his beard. “Taking care of some business for me today.”
“Oh.” I watched the trees zoom by as King floored it down the wet lane. The drizzle of rain hadn’t stopped.
He turned onto the main avenue, unworried about his speed or crashing, weaving effortlessly in and out of traffic.
“Could you slow down?” I whispered. One more ounce of stress might shatter me into a million pieces.
“I’m not slowing down because you have a hangover,” he said coldly. “We’ve already lost too much time because of your impudence.”
“Impudence? My impudence? You took off my clothes last night!” I said.
He grumbled a curse. “You threw up all over yourself. Too much scotch. You threw up on me as well while I assisted you in removing your clothes and brushing your teeth. And, unfortunately, as I was in a hurry to get to Edinburgh to find you and didn’t have a chance to pack additional clothes, I had to remove mine for cleaning, as well. And before you ask, my cock and balls prefer a more liberated lifestyle, which is why I wore nothing to bed.”
Did he mean he liked to go commando?
“Thanks for that extra info.”
As for the throwing up, I didn’t remember that, but I realized last night was one giant blur. I remembered the pain, though. I would never forget. It felt like being injected with a horrific concoction of every bad emotion a human being could experience—sorrow, loneliness, and despair.
How he’d done it, I didn’t know. But I was pretty darn certain I’d be taking some form of revenge on King just as soon as the opportunity arose.
“So where did you go after,” I swallowed, “this morning?”
“I grabbed a towel from the bathroom and left. Why?”
I never saw him leave. And hadn’t the door been locked from the inside when the maid brought my clothes? Maybe I was mistaken. After all, I’d been in shock.
“I, uhhhh.” My head began to swirl again. I winced and pressed the heels of my palms to my temples.
“Miss Turner, I understand that you’re not accustomed to all this, that you’ve led a small, sheltered little life. But you are in my world now. It’s not pretty. It’s not right. It’s survival. And if you really want to save your brother, then you will need to adapt. You will need to accept that reality is simply different than you believed it to be. This will relieve the pain in your head.”
I dropped my hands. “So you’re saying that I should accept that you’ll hurt me if I don’t
do what you say? You think I should accept that you think you own me? Or that you have the right to get in bed with me in all your commando glory or use my body when your dick gets hard?”
“Yes. Yes. No—that last one was a mistake.” He shrugged. “I am male. My dick gets hard. I’m not always choosy as to who helps me relieve the pressure.”
I guess that explained why I went from not being his type to being his type: I had a vagina and was at the right place at the right time.
“Classy.” I looked out the window at the wet, gray day, trying to ignore the pounding inside my head.
“I see no need to hide behind pretenses,” he said. “I am far too old for that.”
Prick. Besides, how old was he? Thirty-two? Thirty-five? “So where are we going?”
“As I told you last night, I found Justin. He is here in Edinburgh with the Artifact.”
“What? You didn’t tell me that last night!” I yelled.
“I promise you, I did. You simply forgot.”
I returned to rubbing my temples. “Not possible.” I couldn’t forget something so important.
He cleared his throat. “Yes, well, perhaps you were a bit preoccupied at the time.” A smirk flickered across his perfect face.
“You think what you did to me was funny?” I seethed.
“Not in the least. In fact, I think it hurt me more than it hurt you.”
My jaw dropped. How could he say that?
“Asshole.”
“Yes. But this asshole is attempting to keep you alive. Which he will. If you obey me. And since obedience appears to be a challenge for you, Miss Turner, I had to take measures. I hope the next time you have the sudden urge to defy my instructions, you’ll think twice.”
“Fuck you.”
He laughed. “Perhaps next time. There’s no better means to put a woman in her place.”
My head whipped in his direction. “Not even you can believe that. Forcing yourself on a woman is barbaric.”
“I never said I’d force you. However, I agree; rape is vile and savage, a coward’s crime worthy of death.”
He was implying that I might sleep with him willingly. Not a chance. That said, it was a strange relief to know that even King had his limits. And yet…“But apparently torture is okay, in your book?”