Anger returned, and so did King’s dark eyes. He dropped his whip and reached for a dagger on the table. He studied it briefly and then rushed toward me, plunging for my chest.
I flinched and clamped my eyes shut, but there was no pain. Not even a tickle.
What the hell?
A sharp electrical jolt surged through my body, and I went from being chained to a cold stone wall, to lying naked, face down, on a soft bed, my wrists and ankles bound.
King’s heavy form lie on top of me.
My mind took a moment to process. Had I escaped the nightmare I’d been in only to return to another? The one I’d run from to begin with?
I screamed.
“Mia! It’s okay!” I heard a familiar voice yell—not King’s.
Someone pulled King’s body off, and he landed with a thump on the floor.
I twisted my head to see Mack flipping the free half of the sheet over my naked body.
“Mack?”
“You’re okay,” he said, jumping to unstrap my ankles and then my wrists.
I took a moment to breathe and gather myself. My heart was about to explode.
“It’s okay, Mia. You’re safe now.” I felt Mack’s warm hand brush over the back of my head.
But how could I believe that? Nothing made sense, and I didn’t know what was real anymore.
“Mia? Speak to me. Tell me you’re all right.”
Slowly, I turned over, holding the sheet to my bare body. Though there was plenty of light from the torches, it was still pitch black outside. The sound of insects clicking and chirping surrounded us. Yes, I was back on King’s private island.
“Are you real?” I asked.
Mack’s big blue eyes drilled into me for one intense moment, and then he grinned—that warm, disarming, almost goofy smile. “In the flesh.”
Yes, I saw his light. Green—life—and blue—sorrow.
I slowly sat up and studied the limp figure on the floor. King lay there shirtless, wearing a pair of black jeans, his back to me and a dagger sticking from his neck. It was the same jeweled “sleeping” dagger I’d almost used to end my own life.
“What’s happening?” I asked.
Mack ran his hands through his messy blond hair. “We’re even, that’s what happened.”
“Even?” I asked.
“You saved my life. Now I’ve saved yours.”
I’d never saved Mack’s life. “But—but—I don’t follow.”
His eyes flashed toward King’s body. “Let’s just say that my brother isn’t going to be happy with me once this all shakes out.”
“Your brother…” My words faded away as my mind slid the pieces into place.
“Callias?”
He flashed a sly little grin.
“But how?” I asked.
“I’d love to tell you the full story, but the helicopter is waiting, and I really don’t want to spend another second on this island. It’s fucking creepy.”
He held out his hand, but I couldn’t move.
He grumbled something unintelligible under his breath. “Mia, all you need to know is that the Artifact wasn’t the first relic King encountered to raise the dead.”
I lifted one brow.
“Cleopatra had a necklace.”
“You’re joking.”
He shook his head. “He had to kill her for it. How do you think King got her blood?”
I remember King bartering with members of the 10 Club once, using Cleopatra’s blood as his leverage. It was supposedly some sort of crazy youth serum.
I stood from the bed, holding the sheet to my body. “I don’t believe it.” I slowly reached for his cheek and touched it, expecting him to dissolve.
“Believe it.”
“But you don’t look like you.” Except for his eyes. They were the same vibrant blue.
I covered my mouth in shock and studied him. It all made so much sense now, his lack of judgment and blind loyalty toward King. It was the sort of love only a brother would have for his own.
Mack shrugged. “I was reincarnated—that’s what the necklace does—or did. It could only bring back one person. I’m pretty sure Cleopatra had intended to use it for herself.”
“So King brought you back and not himself?” Because I had seen Mack’s light. He was alive. Very alive.
Mack smiled and bobbed his head. “Yes. About five hundred years ago—a long story. But it was one of his finer moments.”
I threw one arm around him and squeezed; the tears trickled from my face. “Thank you, Callias—Mack,” I squeezed tighter, “whatever.”
“I go by Mack now, short for Macarias, my middle name.” He patted me on the back, pulled away slowly, and looked into my eyes, like he wanted to say something.
But there I was, typical Mia, with all the questions running through my head. “How did you find me?”
Mack’s eyes flashed to the bracelet on my wrist. “I used it to track you. I knew my brother wasn’t right in the head.”
“But I thought the bracelet took me back…” I sat down on the edge of the bed and covered my face. “It was all a dream.”
Mack sat next to me. “No. You really did save my life that night you cursed the Spiros.”
“But how did I get there, then?”
He smiled and rubbed his chin. “You, my dear Mia, are a Seer. A very powerful one.”
I stared at him. I really hadn’t a clue what he meant.
“You used your gift to travel there.”
I blinked. I was really there. I was really there. I looked at my feet and then at Mack—shit—I mean, Callias. “Seriously?”
He nodded.
“I can’t believe it,” I said under my breath.
He added, “But I supposed that’s the true definition of a Seer; they have the gift of seeing. And you, apparently, wanted to see King for yourself.”
Oh my God. He was right; I had wanted to see King as he once was, free from the curse. Alive and happy. And then, when I’d been sitting on that beach, I had wanted to know what had triggered the violent side of King. I’d learned about his tattoo.
“Does this mean I can go back at any time?” I asked. “How do I control it?”
“How the hell should I know?”
“Because you seem to know everything.”
“Not everything,” he said.
“You knew this,” I swept my hand at the room, “was going to happen.” Of course, I had told King about it. Sort of.
Mack looked ashamed. “This was never the plan. Ever. King promised he’d never let that part of history repeat, that he’d stay in control and find some other way to get you to go back in time.”
“But he didn’t stay in control.” Obviously, King lost his Egyptian collar tattoo despite my warning, and the events played out anyway. It made my head literally spin. “You could’ve told me this was coming,” I said.
“I tried, Mia. But if I’d told you everything, he would’ve heard your thoughts and then God only knows what he might’ve done. My only chance was surprising him—you have no idea how powerful, truly powerful my brother is.”
I understood his point, but that didn’t make reality any less painful. “Thank you, Mack. I really mean that. Thank you for saving me.” I’d be dead by now.
He shrugged. “I’m tired of this bullshit. It needs to end.”
I couldn’t agree more. There had been too much suffering and loss.
I looked at King lying on the floor, still wearing his jeans. “So he didn’t…I mean,” I couldn’t say it. “You stopped your brother before he…”
“Yes. Had I arrived a second later, though…” Mack’s face hardened. “Never mind.” He stood and offered his hand. “We need to get you both back to the house. It’s time to break the curse.”
Mack made it sound so good: freedom from all this horror. But then the truth hit me, and I froze. Oh no. We were back to square one. And my mind was in absolutely no shape to deal with all this. Justin, my parents’ hap
piness, King’s life slash existence ending.
“What’s the matter?” Mack asked.
“Justin is still dead, right?”
“Yes. I’m sorry.”
I hoped by some miracle, that had changed. It hadn’t.
I looked down at the man with the jeweled dagger sticking from his neck. There was no blood, and he certainly didn’t look to be in pain. Quite the opposite, actually. It was the most peaceful I’d ever seen King aside from the day we’d made love on the beach.
“I don’t know if I can do this.” Despite all of the crap I’d been through, I still wasn’t ready to let him go. And, yet, I wasn’t ready to trade in my family’s happiness either.
Mack reached out and squeezed my shoulder. “I’m glad you’re back.”
I tilted my head.
“The Mia with a conscience,” he clarified. “The cutthroat assassin Mia isn’t nearly as fun.”
It was true; I felt absolutely no anger or resentment any longer.
Well, that’s because you gave it all to poor King when you cursed the guy.
I almost had to laugh, really, at the sick irony of it all. It was like one giant, supernatural, vicious circle. Justin getting mixed up with the 10 Club, me getting mixed up with King…Then I’d taken all of those dark emotions and retriggered the events with my curse. I could spend the rest of my life trying to untie the elaborate knots that formed this situation, and I could spend an eternity pointing fingers at everyone—why my life had fallen apart, my brother’s death, the pain and suffering I’d gone through—but that wouldn’t change the facts: we all made choices along the way. We all played a part.
As for me? I’d made a pretty big mess of things.
I released a heavy sigh. It was time to set things right. But what was “right”?
You should’ve let King die, Mia. And you goddamned know it.
Mack reached down, effortlessly scooped King up in his arms—I guessed unconscious ghosts didn’t weigh much—and looked at me. “Ready?”
“No. I’m not.” But it was time to end this anyway.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
When the helicopter touched down, I had a whole new perspective on King’s palatial Crete estate. It was more than just a house. King had built the home directly over the spot where his real palace once stood. It represented a time when he was good, human, and…well, king.
When I stepped back, I began to see so very clearly the dichotomy that existed within King. There had always been a part of him that was noble, acting on behalf of the deeply loyal, fiercely protective man who existed at the core of his being. Then there was the other man: the part of him that had been corrupted and tainted by the curse. Even from the first moment we’d met, those two sides were always there, always at war with each other. No, my brain hadn’t known it, but my Seer side had. King really was evil. But he was also good.
The most disturbing part, however, was that both sides wanted me to love them, to choose one of them. That was why Draco the Lawgiver (evil King) wanted to kill me; I had rejected him. It was also why on the island he wanted to “break me” and turn me into some sort of cursed companion for his evil self. But I could only pity him, fear him, and feel a morbid fascination for him. The man I really loved was inside.
King.
Me.
I thought hard about the two of us, but there was no separation inside my heart. And that’s what my Seer blood had been trying to show me from the first moment we’d met.
So now what?
I don’t know.
Leaving the engine on, the pilot emerged from the cockpit and opened the exterior door to the helicopter. He looked directly at me and waited.
Numbed by a full four fingers of scotch and wearing an extra-large white bathrobe with a giant “K” embroidered over the heart (why the heck they had a spa-grade bathrobe aboard was the least of my concerns), I stood. Mack did not.
“Aren’t you coming?” I asked.
“Nope. I need to get as far away from here as humanly possible.”
“Why?” I asked, as several men boarded and carried off King. They didn’t seem at all bothered by his “slumbering” state, or by the giant dagger sticking from his neck. Just another day at the old Spiros office, working for a dead king, I supposed.
“Mia,” Mack said. “For a second time in my existence, I’ve done something to my brother that feels like an unforgiveable betrayal.”
“But he was out of control—”
“I know, Mia.” Mack held out his palm, urging me to hear him out. “But you don’t understand what he went through—what he gave up—to find me and bring me back, let alone free me from Miranda later on.”
He was right. I didn’t understand, but I could guess. For starters, King had chosen to bring back his brother instead of himself, prolonging his own suffering. It was a sign of King’s love for his twin brother.
Then there was the fact that Mack had “belonged” to Miranda—Vaughn’s 10 Club wife—sigh…—widow after Mack had served in some special ops role. All I knew was that he’d been treated very, very badly, and King freed him. Now, how or why Mack decided to spend his life in the armed forces, becoming a pilot, or how he’d managed to get himself mixed up with Miranda, well, I didn’t know. Anyone could see it would be a long, complicated, and very personal story. A story for another day perhaps.
“I’m sorry, Mack. You don’t owe me any explanations.”
“I did the right thing—no regrets. But I can’t stay. Once you break his curse, the Artifact will only allow you to bring back one life.”
“But I haven’t decided anything yet,” I explained.
“Mia, as fucked up as my brother is, as many evil things as he’s done, I would still choose him. He’s my blood. Which is why I fully expect you’ll make the same choice. You love your brother, just like I love mine.”
I understood what he said; however, if Mack had to choose between the woman he loved and his brother, his decision might be different.
“You can’t leave, Mack. You’re the only one who understands the decision I have to make.”
He looked down at his feet for a moment, gathering his thoughts. “Mia, after I came back to life, I was not a good person for a long time. I did horrible unforgiveable things. Later, much, much later, my brother rescued me from my own darkness, and it kills me I can’t do the same for him now. Because I’m not willing to force you to pick him, and even if I was, it would break him to find out that you didn’t choose him freely. That would be the only way he’d be happy with that outcome.”
My father had a saying: When something doesn’t make sense, it’s because you don’t have all the facts. And that was why I could never fully understand King’s explanation about how the Artifact worked. But now…
“So,” I said, “King’s line about my having to love him in order to break the curse was complete bullcrap?”
Mack smiled. “I think he just wanted you to…” he paused, searching for the words, “pick him.”
All this time, that’s what King really wanted. Just for me to love him enough to choose him. “Why didn’t he just say so?”
“We’re talking about my brother here, Mia. What did you expect him to say? Hi, my name is Draco. You don’t remember me, but you and I met over three thousand years ago, and I love you. Oh, and you cursed me, so now I’m evil and partly mad because I’ve been suffering for just as long. Please ignore my evil tendencies which may be hazardous to your health. Pick me.”
I felt like a boulder had landed on my chest, and my eyes began to fill with giant tears. King had just been hoping I’d see through the curse and see him, the real him.
I wiped under my eyes and gave my head a shake, trying to keep it together. “Your brother is a complex man.”
“Exactly,” he said. “And he would never ask you to choose him over your brother. Nor would he judge you for loving someone so…”
“Fucked up like you once were?”
Mack laughed. ?
??Yeah.”
So there it was. I finally had the answers to my biggest questions. Except one…
“What am I going to do?” I said, followed by a long breath.
“Simple. You choose which life comes back.”
“How?”
“You’re a Seer; you just make it happen with that awesome power of yours.” He winked.
That wasn’t what I meant—choosing between Justin and King was impossible—but I knew that wasn’t a question Mack could answer for me. That said, Mack had brought up a good point.
“You have to tell me how to do this—the mechanics,” I said.
“You robbed King of his chosen path in life the moment you made the curse. Breaking the curse gives you the chance to put a life back on course, to undo a wrong.”
Okay. Justin was wronged by Vaughn. King was wronged by me. I got those two points, but not how it would bring someone back.
I stared at him, completely confused.
“It’s a Seer, order-of-the-universe, balance thing. You displace one thing, something has to take its place. Don’t ask me.”
“Sir?” The pilot tapped his watch. “We’re burning fuel, and we’ve got quite a distance to cover tonight. Shall I shut off the engine?”
“No need.” Mack looked at me. “I really need to go now. I’ve got something important to do, and it can’t wait.”
I nodded slowly, avoiding looking at him. The guilt I felt was almost unbearable. He saved me and now…well, I would likely end his brother’s existence. “I’m so sorry, Mack.”
“I know. But you have to do what’s right. And my brother would tell you the same. He really loved you—when he wasn’t busy trying to kill you or torture you, of course.”
I made a little awkward laugh and moved to the door, then stopped and looked at Mack. “Can I ask you one last thing?”
“Sure.”
“Did you at least have a good life before you died—fall in love, have a family?”
Mack’s blue eyes looked a bit saddened by the question, but he still smiled. “I traveled for five years and saw the world, went to the most amazing places. But I ended up dying from some fever—probably malaria—in a small village near Palenque.”