Mack (King #4)(43)

“So it worked,” I muttered to myself, completely astonished.

King frowned, grabbed my hand, and dragged me from the room.

“Where are you taking me?”

“To my bedroom to f*ck!” he said, nice and loud.

What the… I tried to pull my hand away, which only provoked a sharper reaction: him throwing me over his shoulder and marching upstairs. Meanwhile the room of guests fell into a swarming sound of whispers, gasps, and laughter. At our expense, obviously.

Ohmygod. Ohmygod. What is happening? I had to think fast. Clearly King had lost his goddamned mind! Something must’ve gone wrong when I used my gift!

We entered a room, and he slammed a set of double doors shut, locked them, and then tossed me down onto a large bed.

“What are you doing!” I yelled.

“What the f*ck do you think?” he yelled back and then leaned in, placing his index finger to his mouth to shush me.

Screw that! I lunged off the bed to the side and tried to skirt around him. Faster than my eyes could register, he caught me and threw me back down again.

“Woman,” he hissed, “calm the f*ck down. They need to believe you are mine. Understand?”

Lightbulb. “So you’re not going to rape me?”

He frowned, blatantly offended by the notion, which only amplified my relief.

“Do not let the tuxes fool you. These people are animals, Theodora. They only understand cruelty and barbarism. They must believe you are my…plaything, so to speak. It won’t keep someone from trying to barter for you, but at least they won’t steal you. I hope.”

He hoped?

“How can they barter for me if you don’t want to trade?” I asked.

“They’d go after something I want—something that I might value more. If that doesn’t work, they’ll just go after something else until they can force me to trade.”

“What, you mean like your kid or something?”

“Yes. Or something.”

Okay. Now I was officially disgusted by these people.

He continued, “Now, I want you to claw my face and scream loudly.”

Whatthehell? “You’re serious.”

“Yes. Then I will return to the party and you will remain here. With the doors locked until I come to get you.”

“And then what?” I asked.

“If all goes well, tonight I will find out who Mack traded the chalice to.”

That sounded easy. Too easy.

“Are you ready?” he asked.

“I guess—but first, tell me what happened. How do you feel?”

His eyes filled with conflict and joy. “I feel…whole again.”

My eyes filled with a smidgen of tears. I knew I should hate this man for everything he’d done to me, but now I couldn’t. He’d been broken before. And now he wasn’t.

He took my hand and placed it on his cheek. “Make it bleed.”

This was freaking weird. On the other hand, he had gutted me like a fish, cracked my neck a few times, and I think he’d even once lit me on fire. Maybe a few scratches to his beautiful face were in order.

I flexed my fingers and raked down hard, digging my nails into his skin.

He winced and pulled back. “Owww…”

“Seriously?” I sneered at him and then screamed at the top of my lungs.

He gave me a nod and then reminded me not to open the door for anyone except him.

He left, and I locked the doors behind him before plopping down onto the bed. Well, that was goddamned weird.

But little did I know, we were just getting started. At the end of it all, each of us would give up a piece of our souls and hearts for the chance to bring Mack back. And one of us would give up everything.





CHAPTER TWENTY





While waiting in the big, expensively decorated bedroom—yes, fit for a king with a king-sized bed, soft down comforter and pillows, and plush velvety white carpet—I realized that I had completely neglected my old life. You know, that one with a job, two retired parents, and a handful of friends who didn’t actually know the real me?

Bentley! I dug out my cell from my pocket and called Shannon. Thankfully, Bentley had a doggie door and a big bowl full of food along with water, so he wasn’t starving, but who knew when I’d be back.

Come on. Come on. Come on. Yes! Shannon answered, and I told her that I was deathly ill and staying with a friend—which she didn’t seem surprised by given how bad off I’d been the last time she’d seen me at the center. I also told her where to find my hidden house key and Bentley’s supply of food and treats. I then texted my parents, lying to them too about having the flu, and added a Facebook post to seal the deal with my friends. I bought myself a few extra days before anyone started really worrying.

After about two hours, I heard a light knock on the door. Unsure of who it might be, I didn’t answer.

“It’s me, Theodora. They’ve all left now,” said a King-sounding voice.

“How do I know it’s really you?”

“You were wearing a brown potato sack and running in the mud the first time I killed you.”

Yep. That’s King. I went to unlock the door, and he pushed his way in, not pausing to look at me. A man on a mission.

“I found out who Mack traded the chalice to,” he said, and began pacing by the window, rubbing that strong stubbled chin of his between his thumb and index finger. Why did he have to look so much like original Mack?