Page 6 of The Ten Club


  “You don’t.” King slid a card from his jeans pocket. “Be here at eight o’clock. I would tell you not to be late, but I suspect it will do no good.”

  It wouldn’t. “So it’s another one of your dinner parties.”

  “Yes. And your blood will be required.”

  “Are you going to tell me what you’re doing with it?”

  “I am taking care of a threat that’s long overdue.”

  Just like that, King disappeared into thin air.

  Leaving me standing there staring at nothing.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  What am I doing? I should just step away like Mack had said and let him deal with all this. That would be the safest move. But if I could find a way to get King back, didn’t I owe it to all of us to try? No one walked away from the love of their lives just like that.

  I checked my hair one last time in the vanity mirror of my private dressing room that was one of the many features King had added to the house, including a soaking tub smack in the middle of our enormous bedroom that opened up to a private balcony with a view of the ocean. The entire home reminded me of King’s ancient palace here in Crete with its marble pillars and murals of ancient gods and sea creatures. I hated staying here without him. Too many memories.

  It’s not over yet, Mia. You still have one more shot.

  Rallying my nerves, I applied a little hairspray to my straightened hair and finished applying a little smoky eye shadow. I looked as best as could be expected at a time like this.

  “Mrs. Minos? The car is waiting when you’re ready.”

  I glanced over my shoulder at the tall, thickly built man in his thirties, with dark wavy hair. Arno Spiros. Arno was one of King’s most trusted bodyguards, but I didn’t trust anyone with that last name. They were all loyal to King and only protected me because they’d been ordered to.

  “Thank you, Arno. I’ll be right down.”

  “Very good, ma’am.”

  He disappeared from the doorway, and I took one last look at myself in the mirror. My fitted dark blue dress hugged my curves and left little to the imagination. This was King’s favorite dress. I’d only worn it once, and it had stayed on all of two minutes before he had me out of it. We ended up having takeout that night.

  “Well, this is your last chance,” I muttered to myself. Mack would soon come calling, and I couldn’t necessarily argue with his plan. We all had so much to lose to 10 Club.

  I passed by the nursery and kissed Arch goodbye before making my way downstairs to the waiting limo. Arno opened the car door with his usual steely professionalism. No eye contact.

  I slid inside, and he took the driver’s seat. Within moments we were headed down the main road, which skirted the coast. The sun had set hours ago, and I didn’t like it. Bad things came out at night.

  “I saw you on the security cameras with King earlier,” Arno said, breaking the silence, his eyes fixed to the curvy road. “I assume he has outsmarted death once again.”

  Arno didn’t seem at all surprised.

  “Yes. And you’ll be happy to hear that he has completely forgotten me and Arch. He’s also back to his old self.” Meaning evil and basically a disembodied soul. “Maybe you’ll get your king all to yourself again.”

  The Spiros had never liked the Seers and they certainly didn’t like their king being married to one.

  “I think you are mistaken about where our loyalties lie, Mrs. Minos.”

  I hated him calling me that. I hadn’t changed my last name when I married King, whose official name was Draco Minos, the last king of ancient Minoa. However, getting petty about names wasn’t going to get us anywhere.

  “Where are your loyalties, Arno?”

  “King relinquished his position before he left. We are loyal to you until Arch is grown.”

  Huh? This was slightly different than what King had told me.

  “Are you saying that King isn’t your king anymore?”

  “Yes.”

  “So he…quit? And you decided not to tell me?”

  King hadn’t been a real king for a very long time, but in these people’s eyes, he was and always would be their ruler. So I’d thought.

  “Yes.”

  “When did this happen?” I asked.

  “Before he died.”

  I looked out the window at the passing cars, pushing my tired mind to drill down. So King knew something was going to happen. He had to. It was one more piece of the puzzle that led me to believe King knew he would be taking a risk when he went to help Mack. And King never went in without some sort of plan.

  If it’s true, however, I’m on my own. King had no way of telling anyone what he’d thought might happen. He didn’t remember. Or if he does, he’s not going to share it.

  Arno took a left and headed up a narrow road that cut through a hillside lined with olive trees.

  “Did you know King had a second home here on the island?” I asked.

  Arno glanced at me through the mirror. “King has many homes on Crete. He owns a lot of land.”

  I suppose that made sense. King had been around for a very long time.

  A few minutes later, Arno turned again, pulling up to a two-story house with a stone façade. It looked like a historical home or museum with its perfectly restored stone exterior and wood-framed windows.

  “How old is this place?” I asked.

  “Over three hundred years, I am told.”

  Arno pulled the limo to a stop in front of the gravel walkway.

  “So practically brand new for King?” I said jokingly.

  A black stretch limo pulled up behind us. Arno turned all the way around and looked me straight in the eyes. “Be careful tonight, Mia.”

  He’d made eye contact and used my first name, which meant he really wanted to make sure I listened. I didn’t know whether to be grateful or just more nervous.

  “Thank you. I will,” I said.

  Arno gave me a quick nod, slipped from the driver’s seat, and came around to let me out. I took his hand and as gracefully as possible exited the vehicle.

  “I will be waiting right over there.” He glanced behind me toward the narrow road we’d taken here, where the chauffeurs were parking their cars to wait out the evening.

  “I’ll call when I’m ready to go,” I said.

  He dipped his head, and I headed for the arched doorway that led to a courtyard with a fountain. Surrounding the courtyard were two stories of plastered stone and a few wood-framed windows. Straight ahead was the front door with a stone arch, where King stood to the side in his elegant tuxedo, looking like a beautiful god greeting guests to Heaven.

  My breath hitched and the back of my knees tingled with heat. The man always knew how to dress, how to look so goddamned handsome, even when he was about to make your life a living hell.

  He spotted me from across the lit fountain, and I watched his fake smile transform into a wolfish gaze that made my chest knot. My body, especially those legs of mine, instinctually wanted me to go in the opposite direction. My heart, however, wanted something entirely different. It just wanted him. Deep. Hard. Now. The desire I felt for this man consumed me. It went beyond fucking and kissing and licking. He tugged every erotic thread running deep inside my being.

  I pushed through my messy feelings and pasted on a smile, my eyes locked with his as I approached the front step.

  “Ms. Turner,” he dipped his head of thick black hair, “you look…ravishing,” he said, his voice filled with sexual innuendo. His jaw bore its usual thick dark stubble I often loved to stroke with the tips of my fingers, and his lips had the devilish smile he always used on me when he wanted something.

  I pretended not to notice.

  “Thank you. You look very nice, too,” I said.

  Just then a busty blonde woman, same height and shaped face as me, came up with a snide grin and sexual hunger in her eyes. She wore a bright red dress cut so low that it almost showed her nipples.

  “Sorry I took so
long,” she said with an annoyingly high-pitched voice. “Some fucking cunt was hogging the bathroom.”

  King took her hand. “You didn’t miss much, my love. I was merely greeting our guests.”

  My…love? What the fuck? I couldn’t believe my eyes or ears. He had another woman? This woman? But before I had a chance to process the major blow, he continued, “Hagne, may I introduce Mia Turner.”

  Hagne? My body went numb, yet I still managed to somehow step back in horror. “It’s not possible.” I shook my head from side to side, only vaguely aware of my phone ringing inside my evening bag.

  Hagne cackled. “Nice to see you again, Mia.”

  But Hagne is dead. King beheaded her thousands of years ago. And she’s a fucking psycho. I turned, intending to run like hell.

  King inconveniently appeared in front of me, slipping his arm around my waist and pulling me into his hard body. “Just where do you think you’re going?” His lips flickered with a carnal grin.

  “To hell.” Or maybe I was already there.

  King threw me into his library filled with wall-to-wall books and a leather reading chair—no phone—and then locked the door, but not before taking my handbag. I assumed he didn’t want me calling anyone and interfering with his plans—whatever the hell those were. But make no mistake, every bone in my body shook with rage. If King had brought back Hagne, it was because he no longer cared for my safety one little bit.

  Now I know why he said that he wouldn’t harm me. Because Hagne sure the hell would. Three thousand years ago, she had been a powerful Seer, offered as a bride to King by her family, who had significant influence on the island. A marriage with a Seer would have served both families well, but Hagne had had a thing for Mack. And she was certifiably Cracker-Jack-crazy, coated in a thick layer of nuts with a psycho prize on the inside. I’d read her journal—King had kept it—which was how I knew she’d planned to use her Seer gifts to seduce Mack and then have him kill King so that Mack would be ruler. All that went sideways when I showed up and tried to stop her, for which she tried to kill me. King executed her, which almost started a war between himself and the Seers. To keep the peace and prevent his people from dying, King sacrificed his life—justice for Hagne’s family. But King’s death did little to change history. War still broke out. The Minoans still disappeared off the face of the planet, King’s soul still ended up cursed, Mack still died and ended up cursed, and both brothers lived in torment for thousands of years, committing acts that haunted them. My attempted intervention had only restarted the entire story, just with different catalysts. Thankfully, Mack was eventually saved by Teddi, and King’s torment ended with me bringing him back to life. That’s how it was supposed to end. Now we teetered on the edge of a situation far worse than we’d come from.

  I slipped my backup cell from my cleavage—yes, I knew now to always carry an extra—and called Mack first. It rang four times before he answered.

  “Mack, it’s Mia.”

  “Why the fuck haven’t you been answering your phone?” he barked.

  “King took it. He has me locked in a room in his house.”

  “Your house? Is the baby all right?”

  “Arch is fine. I’m in a different house—a big old stone thing on a hill a few miles away.”

  “That used to be my place a few lifetimes ago.”

  “Well, I guess King kept it. I mean, one never knows when old things might become useful again. Hagne, for example? Seems he found a use for her, too.”

  “What the hell are you talking about?”

  “She’s back. In another body.” And I’m beyond crushed. “I think he’s with her, Mack. Her. Of all fucking people.”

  “So that’s what he’s doing. After I heard your message, I knew he got the chalice.”

  Oh, dear God. I felt like we were trapped in some horrible paranormal TV show. Only we weren’t. That chalice was an ancient relic that was supposed to bring anyone back from the dead. King had used it to bring back Mack, who’d been stabbed by Teddi—a complete accident. Luckily, the chalice worked. Unluckily, Mack had died on sacred Native American soil and the souls who resided there wanted something in return for Mack. A trade. That was when King made his decision to swap his life for his brother’s.

  “I think he’s bringing people back and putting them in 10 Club members’ bodies,” said Mack.

  “Which people?” I asked.

  “My best guess?”

  “Yes,” I replied.

  “People who are dangerous and whom he can control.”

  Oh shit. If all the 10 Club members were loyal to King, then it would no longer be a free-for-all backstabbing competition. They’d all be rowing their depraved boats in the same direction and doing what he wanted. I simply couldn’t imagine anyone having that much power. But what would he do with it?

  “This is not good. Not good at all,” I mumbled.

  “Actually, this might help us,” Mack said. “Anyone loyal to him will be loyal to me when I take over.”

  In theory that would be useful—he could more easily ambush people he controlled—however, not everyone used their eyes to determine a person’s identity.

  “You’re assuming you can trick someone like Hagne.” Ugh. Fucking Hagne. King had actually called her “my love” and kissed her hand. There was no bigger insult I could think of. It was the final knife in my broken heart.

  “Don’t worry; I can deal with her,” Mack said. “But you need to get the hell out of there.”

  I was in so much shock, I’d almost forgotten I’d been locked in a room.

  “Where are you now?” I asked.

  “Since you flew off to Greece, I’m breaking into King’s warehouse.”

  King’s warehouse was booby-trapped up the yin-yang. “So you’re about to die.”

  “Maybe. But so are you if you don’t—”

  “Ms. Turner, you never cease to amaze me,” said King.

  I spun on my heel. “Uh…gotta go.” I dropped the phone from my ear, praying King had no idea that his brother and I had just been speaking or had a relationship. “I was just checking on…things at home.”

  “And I must remember to frisk you next time I lock you up.” King’s lips twisted into a sly smile.

  “When so many monsters roam freely in the world, a girl should always take precautions.” I batted my eyelashes.

  “Are you referring to me or to Hagne?” he said, his voice low and velvety as he stepped in close, almost pressing his body to mine.

  “Both.” I glared up at him.

  “Ah, yes. Hagne has told me about her run-in with you,” he said.

  “She remembers?”

  “Come with me. I would like to show you something.” He turned, opened the door, and went into a room just across the hallway.

  “How about just telling me what it is?” I called out. Surprises weren’t my thing these days.

  “Come, Ms. Turner!” he yelled.

  I growled in protest, torn between running for it and seeing what he wanted to show me. If he wanted me dead, I’d be dead by now. And if I ran, he’d only catch me in two seconds—a perk of being a man without a real body.

  “I do not have all night, Ms. Turner,” King bellowed from the other room.

  With hesitant steps, I followed the sound of his voice into his study. There was a desk, chair, crates of old books and a stack of scrolls piled to the side of the desk.

  “Close the door behind you,” he ordered.

  “What is all this?” I said, doing as he asked.

  King unrolled a long sheet of paper, his silvery eyes scanning the words. “I had Hagne write down every detail of my life—that which she is able to see with her gifts or remember.”

  “Is that why you brought her back?”

  “Yes. I would like to understand why there are pieces missing from my memories.”

  “Why not just ask me instead of bringing back a psycho who once tried to kill you?”

  He gave me a que
stioning look.

  I shrugged. “You have her journals stored in your warehouse back in San Francisco. I read them once.”

  “Well, her gifts of sight are very powerful, and she is loyal to me now that I’ve given her back her life. She knows I can take it away at any time.”

  I wondered if that was why he hadn’t used the chalice on himself. As a living man, he was limited to what he could do. That crawling around inside people’s heads trick, for example? Nope. Killing someone with a snap of his fingers? Nope. He was much more dangerous in a non-corporeal state.

  “So what have you learned from her?” I asked.

  “Many interesting things.” King’s predatory eyes flickered with curiosity, and he stepped in closer. “But something she cannot explain is why I recall her but none of the moments involving you. So many lost memories.” He ran his finger down my throat and began making small circles between my breasts. The sensation evoked strong memories of the two of us lying in bed, naked. The way he would drink me in with those eyes and study every inch of my body, as if committing each curve to memory. He always made me feel worshiped and desired.

  He continued, “Hagne says you were everything to me.” He leaned down and slid his lips across my cheek, and I couldn’t lie; the heat of his skin and sound of his deep, sensual voice triggered flutters in my stomach and deep in my core. “So tell me, Mia, why would I leave behind memories of something so precious?”

  My body shivered from his touch. It craved how good he could make me feel. “I don’t know.”

  “Did you…” he placed a light kiss on my neck, “do something to anger me, perhaps?”

  “No.”

  “You wouldn’t be lying to me, now would you?” His lips went lower, over my collarbone, sparking goose bumps over my entire body.

  I swallowed a sigh of longing. “No. I was loyal to you. I never would’ve hurt you like you hurt me.” I stepped back, knowing he was pushing me dangerously close to something I didn’t want to feel but hungered for. His body inside mine.

  “Perhaps I found it easier to forget you than face you.” He closed the gap between us and snaked his arm around my back.