Mack (King #4)(35)

“Mack!” I dropped the knife and jumped to his side, kneeling beside him. “Oh, God. What did I do?”

“I bet right about now, he’s wishing he hadn’t taken off that necklace,” the woman chuckled out her words. I ignored her. All I could see were colors all around Mack, black and blues, and they were fading fast. “No, no, no.” I pushed my hands over his jugular, but it was no use.

Mack just lay there, his blue, blue eyes staring at the ceiling. “It’s finally happening,” he whispered. “You kept your promise. Thank you.”

“No. I was lying! I’m not ready to let you go!” I said. “I can change things for you.” If I’d just had more time.

“I’m not worth helping, Theodora. But I love you. I always have and I always will.” He gasped for air. “Tell King…” His voice dropped so low I could barely hear him. It sounded like he’d said he wanted to be warm or put somewhere warm or…

Fuck! This can’t be happening! “I love you, too! I love you, too! Don’t go.” The life faded from his eyes right before mine. “No. No. No, Mack,” I yelled. “I won’t let you leave me.” But he was already gone. Just like that. And I felt a part of my soul go with him. How could this have happened? How could I have done this horrible thing to this beautiful man just as King said I would?

I sobbed over his body, wishing I could somehow turn back the clock or use these “gifts” I supposedly had.

“What a shithead,” the woman behind me said. “Now I’m going to have to find the chalice the hard way. As for you, little girl, I don’t take kindly to attempts on my life.”

I grabbed the knife from the floor beside me and, in one fluid motion, threw it at her. The tip lodged into her right eye, and she dropped to the floor like a bag of wet sand. Where and how had I come up with such a skill? I didn’t know and I didn’t care.

I turned back to Mack and watched in despair as his features faded back to the man I’d first met—dirty blond hair, light golden skin, honey brown stubble. Meaning, the Mack I’d first met, the man I’d fallen in love with so long ago, his soul was gone from this body.

“No,” I heard a deep voice gasp from the doorway. I glanced over my shoulder, and King just stood there staring at his dead brother in disbelief. Mia instantly had tears falling down her cheeks.

“You f*cking bitch!” King roared at me. “I should’ve killed you when I had the chance.” He stepped toward me, but Mia pulled him back.

“King, no.”

He turned his rage toward her, shaking his finger in her face. “This is your fault. I shouldn’t have listened to you.”

I saw the wounded look in her eyes.

“It was an accident,” I muttered, wiping away the stream of tears in my eyes. “I was taking a swipe at that woman, but Mack rushed in and…” I couldn’t finish my words.

“Do you really think it f*cking matters?” King growled, looking like a savage predator despite his finely tailored black suit. “I can’t bring him back this time!”

He began reaching for me, and once again Mia interceded. “You can’t kill her, King. Mack wouldn’t have wanted it and neither do I.”

He looked at her, and all I could see was a red light glowing all around him. Rage, I thought. It was the color of rage.

“Just…” Mia blew out a breath. “Just take a minute outside, King. Please.”

He shook his head from side to side, a look of sheer madness in his eyes. It broke my heart to see him in so much pain for something I’d done, but it broke my heart more to see the lifeless body stretched out in front of me.

“Mack, I don’t know if you can hear me, but I’m begging; please don’t leave.” Yes, I was speaking to his spirit. No, I knew nothing about how it all worked, but I hoped that he would choose not to go wherever souls went after they were freed from obscenely unjust and torturous three-thousand-year-old curses.

I felt Mia’s warm hand on my shoulder as she kneeled down next to me.

“It all just happened so fast,” I said, sobbing quietly. “I was trying to save him. I really was.”

“I know, sweetie.”

She took Mack’s hand and held it between hers, closing her eyes as if praying. After a few moments, she reopened her big blues. “I can’t feel any connection to him.” She sounded very worried.

“What does that mean?” I asked.

She looked down at his beautiful, lifeless face. “That the chances of getting him back are not good. Once the soul’s moved on, it’s like trying to capture water with a sieve.”

“Oh God, no.”

“That’s why King has been looking for that Incan chalice—it can resurrect anyone, even if the soul has moved on.”

I looked at her through my blurry teary eyes. “You were looking for it.” Mack had mentioned that he’d stolen something from them and that was the reason “they” were trying to find him.

“King was looking for it and Mack was helping him. I lost my brother last year and hoped to get him back, but now I wonder if it just wasn’t meant to be. He had issues. But Mack…” She sighed and ran her hand down the side of his cheek, staring lovingly at his pale face. “Mack saved my life. He helped King find himself again, and as much as I love my brother, Mack risked a lot to help us. I just don’t know what we’ll do without him.”