Mack (King #4)(17)

“You f*cking little bitch,” said a deep, deep voice from behind me, right before I felt the man grabbing my hair and flipping me over.

“No. Please,” I begged for my life.

He stared down at me with disgust and rage, his face covered in blood, those cold blue eyes punching right through my soul.

“You think you can take him away from me?” he growled. “You think you can rob me of my brother? No one takes what’s mine.” He raised his other hand and sliced through my neck with a gleaming silver sword.

“Fuck!” I sprang up from my bed, drenched in sweat. Oh Jesus. My eyes immediately gravitated toward the night-light in my hallway, visible through the open door. Frantic, I ran my hands over my white pajama shirt, feeling for any wounds.

No, no. I’m safe. I’m home. My plain white dresser and nightstand, the framed picture of my parents hanging over the white armchair in the corner where I read, the sliding door that led out to my redwood balcony overlooking the ocean.

I whooshed out a breath and ran my hands over my face, fully realizing that it had just been a dream. Only this time, everything had been so vivid. Every detail, right down to the texture of the gritty cold mud, the sting of wet wind whipping across my cheeks, the feeling of rot in my stomach.

Fuck, f*ck, f*ck. I had to get up and try to move around a little. It was now close to midnight, and I’d been in bed for two days, half asleep, half afraid of it. The strange dreams wouldn’t stop.

I swung my shaky legs over the edge of the bed and slowly stood, still feeling woozy. I hobbled down the hall, past the bathroom and into the kitchen. I grabbed the glass I kept on the side of the sink and filled it with cold water from the filtered tap.

I chugged and chugged, knowing I’d probably throw it all up like I had everything else the last few days. Much more of this and I’d have to check myself into the hospital for dehydration.

No. You’re okay, Teddi. It’s just the flu. I’d survive.

I finished my glass and opened the fridge, eyeballing the loaf of bread. Crap. I was so hungry, but my stomach wasn’t up for entertaining visitors. Luckily, I had reserves, meaning I could never be described as thin because that would require me to care deeply about the opinion of others or my mortality. I never worried about any of that. Is that all going to change?

I didn’t know, and the only thing that seemed to matter was getting well. I had patients to treat.

You mean Mack.

Okay. I did mean Mack. I’d just run out on him, becoming violently ill after our session. Shannon had driven me home in her car—mine was still at the center.

I stumbled to the bathroom, relieved myself, and then washed my face and brushed my teeth. I always hated feeling filthy, but I felt it even more now. That horrific dream of being covered in blood and dirt had left me wanting a long shower.

If only I could stand up long enough for one.

I got to my bed and slid between the soft sheets, thankful for the fact that the room had stopped spinning.

“Think you can get away from me that easily, do you?” said a deep voice from the dark corner of the dimly lit room.

“Oh shit!” I jerked upright, and my eyes fixed on the tall figure sitting in the armchair only five feet from the bed. “Who the hell are you?” I instinctively slid the two ends of my collar together, as if closing the front of my PJs could miraculously protect me.

“Don’t you recognize me, woman?” He turned on the reading lamp next to the armchair.

Oh shit. Oh shit. Those blue, blue eyes. The same ones from my dreams. But that short black hair and stubble—he was also the man I imagined when Mack described himself in that story. I couldn’t sort through this.

“What the hell is going on?” I asked, really talking to myself.

“Allow me to enlighten you, óolal. My name is King. And like the last five times you’ve come for my brother, I’m here to stop you. No one takes what’s mine.”

óolal?

I blacked out.





CHAPTER TEN


TEDDI





“Get the hell off her, King!” screamed a woman in the back of my foggy brain.

“You get back in the car. This doesn’t concern you, Mia,” the man commanded in an authoritative tone that signaled he was used to having his orders followed.

Slap! “Say that one more time, King. I f*cking dare you,” the woman growled.

“Ow, woman. I swear you test my patience down to the hair on my balls.”

“No. You’re the one who’s testing, because we had a deal. Your evil-cursed-bastard days are over, King. Over. And I didn’t go to hell and back to free you just so you could continue tormenting anyone you like. Now step away from that woman or I will get my ass in that car and you won’t see me or Archon again.”

“You threaten me, wife? I think you forget who I am.”

“Forget? How could I forget? Look at you. You’re the f*cking sexiest man on the planet. I get wet just looking at you.”

“Goddammit,” the man said, his voice dropping an octave, “I f*cking want you. Now.” Slurp, slurp, kiss, smack. “Bend the hell over and show me your p—”

I groaned with discomfort. And, okay, disgust. Who the f*ck were these people getting ready to get it on with their angry sex in my bedroom? While I was sick as a dog?