Mack (King #4) (21 page)

I didn’t want to because I knew I couldn’t trust this man, despite his now being healed. He was still ruled by a moral compass entirely his own, and loyalty to his blood was top priority.

“I give you my word; I won’t harm you. Yet.”

Damn that man. Always reading my thoughts.

“Fine.” I stepped around the circle and held out my hands.

“Very good,” King said. “Now, I want you to focus on your gift and try to move that light through me.”

“It didn’t work the last time!” I yelled over the growing hisses and whipping wind.

“The healing is not for me,” he explained. “I believe they’re upset. They don’t understand why it can’t be their turn.”

They were freaking jealous. Dear God, how crazy was all this?

King grabbed my wrists and closed his eyes, telling me to focus on healing them and helping them to rest. So I imagined that ball of white light somewhere beyond my body, existing in a place beyond this one, and then began pulling from it. Slowly, I felt the draw. The light moving through me like a warm, comforting stream of bathwater.

I realized that like that chalice, my body was merely a conduit, a door with a combination lock that when opened could connect two energies together. When the light hit my fingers and flowed into King, I actually felt it continuing on through him and out another door. It was the spirit world that King lived in for thousands of years.

And then…I felt them.

Ohmygod!
My eyes snapped open and met King’s.

“You were doing well, do not stop,” he commanded.

“Mack never crossed over. He never left,” I said in a panic. “They wouldn’t let him.”

“What?” King looked pissed. And surprised.

“And they don’t want to be healed,” I added. “They just want a sacrifice.”

King frowned. Now he looked really pissed.

“Nothing comes without a price,” I elaborated. “It’s that cosmic balance thing! Shit—I don’t know what you call it.” And I don’t know how I knew all that, but I did.

King dropped his hands and looked down at the ground. Meanwhile, my mind had a go at the puzzle pieces. They wanted a sacrifice. Meaning…someone had to take his—

Oh fuck
. I stepped back, but King caught my arm, and I suddenly couldn’t move. Nor could I speak or breathe or do anything other than realize I would become the sacrificial lamb.

Please, King. There has to be another way,
I pleaded in my head.
If you kill me, you’ll have brought your brother back just to let him suffer. He won’t forgive himself unless I heal him.

King continued staring at me with those piercing orbs of endless blue.

Blue. So much blue
. And then darker and darker.

“You’re right; there is another way, Miss Valentine.” He dropped his firm grip and slid off a silver ring from his right index finger. The ring was chunky with a clear stone in the middle. I’d never even noticed him wearing it.

“Take this and put it on,” he said.

It was far too large for my hand, but who the hell cared? “What are you doing?” I frowned.

“It will make me feel better knowing that you’ll always be around to watch over my brother.” He grabbed my left hand and shoved the thing into my palm, practically crushing my poor little fingers as he forced me to make a fist around it.

“What the—” I was about to jerk my hand away, but as King held my hand in his, I could see him. Really see him. All the way down to his soul. And it was literally breaking apart, as if dissolving.

I covered my mouth with my free hand. Unable to bear the sight of what I was witnessing: a man breaking. Truly and utterly breaking, realizing he would never find real peace or happiness or be able to save the people he needed most in this world. But that was what my Seer gift showed me. King’s heart ripping apart, disintegrating into dark ash. And as I realized what he meant to do, my heart broke right along with his.

You can’t do that, King. Please don’t. Think of Mia and your baby. Think of how lost Mack will be without you. We’ll find another way, I promise
. The tears fell from my eyes in steady streams, dribbling down my cheeks.

“It’s been a pleasure, Dr. Valentine.” King dipped his head of silky black hair, and then I watched the dark shadows, in the shape of arms, spring from the ground and reach for his legs. He collapsed to the ground.

“No!” I jumped on top of him and rolled him flat on his back, frantically checking for a pulse.

Nothing.

“Fuckingshit, King! Don’t do this!” I puffed several breaths into his mouth and then began pumping his chest. “You evil stubborn bastard! Mack won’t want this!”

Minutes or hours went by—I didn’t know—but the dust devils died down, and the sky turned to a pristine blue. There was a sudden warmth in the air and sweet smell in the wind blowing through my hair. It was the scent of peace. That was all I knew.

And then I felt lighter. Not physically, but…well, mentally. Like there had been a weight—guilt, despair, fear—pressing down on me that was suddenly gone.

My own curse—that vow I’d made so many years ago—was gone.

“It’s useless, you know,” said a deep familiar voice. “That fucking prick just had to be the hero.”

I gasped and turned my head, finding a tall, naked man, ripped from head to toe with glossy black, shoulder-length hair. He looked just like King with those stunning sky-colored eyes, thick dark lashes, sensual mouth, black stubble and…

A sadness in his eyes.

“Mack?” My voice came out all shaky.

“Yes.”

“Ohmygod.” I jumped up and ran to him, throwing my arms around his neck. I kissed him with everything I had—my heart, my soul, and every ounce of passion. He kissed me back, and yes, he was buck naked, but this wasn’t that kind of moment or that kind of kiss. It was pure and simple, a need to be touched and held and comforted. It was two people testing their sanity to ensure that what was in front of them was real.

After several long moments, I pulled away, my eyes tearing like crazy. “Is it gone? The curse?”

He nodded. “Yes. Though, I’m not exactly sure how, because I couldn’t move past this place. I felt it clinging to me until the very last moment.” He looked behind me at his dead brother lying in the dirt. “I think…”

Saying that he looked sad would be the understatement of the century. He looked absolutely devastated.

“I’m so sorry, Mack. I tried to stop him.”

“I know. I saw the whole thing,” he said.

“You did?” I sniffled.

He nodded. “Yes, and I should’ve known my brother wouldn’t let me go peacefully.”

“But we can use the chal…” My words faded along with the idea as I noticed that the chalice was gone, a small crater left in its place.
Ohgod. Where did it go?
I blew out a breath, trying to hold it together. I was crushed for Mack, yet I was elated to have him back. Did that make me greedy or uncaring? I didn’t know. But all I could do was look at this beautiful man who’d I’d loved before this version of me was even born. It was all too surreal for words.

I stared in wonder at this new perfect body that looked just like his original.

“You can’t stare at me like that. Not here,” Mack said.

I cleared my throat. “Let’s get you some clothes.”

Never in a million years would I begin to understand how something like that chalice worked, so I would end up doing myself a favor and simply calling it magic. Later, much, much later, Mack would try to explain it in terms of particle theory, matter cohesion, and energy fields, which normally would’ve rung my brainy-bell, but was still too outlandish and landed me back in the “magic bucket.” For the time being, however, none of that would matter, because the facts were the facts: We buried King that day, right alongside Mack’s old body. Mack was heartbroken, but wasn’t ready to let me heal him from this or any of his painful baggage from the past. Watching him bury his twin was the saddest moment I could remember living through.

“What are you going to tell Mia?” I asked, wishing that I could be there in Greece when she heard the news that the man who’d loved her for three thousand years was dead. Again.

Mack looked deeply troubled as he scratched the back of his head. “I’m going to tell her the truth. All of it.”

I grabbed his hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. “Is there anything I can do?”

“Drive me to the airport and then wait for me.”

I looked at him, trying to puzzle it out.

“I must tell her the news face to face,” he elaborated.

“I should go with you.”

“No. I want to do this alone. But I will let her know you are there to help if she needs it.”

I had to wonder if part of the reason he didn’t want me there was that Mia might feel I was responsible in some way. Had I not killed Mack, none of this would’ve happened. I hoped that wasn’t the case, but if it gave her any sort of comfort, I could live with taking the blame.

We got into the car and drove away with Mack at the wheel. And I swear, as crazy as it sounded, I felt like someone was watching us until we hit the main road.

“Mack? Do you think King will find a way back again?”

He shook his head. “This isn’t like before when he had hope of seeing Mia again and lifting his curse. She won’t ever be able to look at him again when she finds out about Talia, no matter the reason.”

Yes, I had told Mack everything that happened, everything we went through to get that chalice. He wasn’t happy about it, but the fact that King was willing to sacrifice everything—his marriage, his family, his dream of happiness, and his life—was a testament to how deeply he cared and how deeply he loved.

It left me speechless, frankly. And it made me realize how big these two men’s hearts truly were.

I looked away from Mack and focused my teary eyes on the road. “There has to be a way to get him back,” I muttered, half-thinking aloud.

“The spirits who sit on that land will never let him leave. A deal was struck, and it’s irrevocable. He has the choice to pass over to the other side or stay there.”

If anyone would know, it was Mack.

“Still,” he said, “I won’t ever stop trying.”

With a bond like these two brothers had, it was something I didn’t doubt.

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

Two weeks later.

I didn’t hear much from Mack after he left for Crete, except for a few text messages here and there to let me know he was with Mia, doing his best to help her come to terms with everything. I could see that he felt responsible for her Archon in his brother’s absence. Once again, I volunteered to get on a plane to ease her pain, but I think Mack and I both knew, just like King had, that some pain was meant to be felt. Sometimes it was simply a byproduct of that definitive moment when our hearts had to let go of something that could never be returned. Infidelity, death, betrayal—when these things came into our lives, we hurt because we lost someone or something we loved, leaving behind a hole. But it was also the moment our healing started. You had to feel pain in order to move forward.

But now, back at home in Santa Barbara, trying to sort out the pieces of my life—or existence, really—I needed Mack. Without him, I found it difficult to look forward. The past kept calling me, reaching its dark tentacles over thousands of years, my mind trying to cope with the blank spaces where memories once belonged. Still, I did my best to focus on how lucky I was to have Mack back. It wasn’t perfect, but life rarely is, and I could think of no better joy than “making do” with this man.

As for work, everyone assumed that Mr. Room Twenty-Five had run off on his own. They assumed I’d just had the flu. No one suspected a thing when I returned, and frankly I was happy to have the distraction of work.

I kicked off my black heels as I entered the front door of my rather blandly decorated beach house that I was in the process of now livening up. Colorful paintings, red throw pillows on my white couch, and plants. Lots of big plants.

Bentley made his way from whichever place he’d been napping, greeting me with minimal enthusiasm.

I looked down at him and smiled. “I got some treats for you today. Wanna see?”

He stared with boredom until I whipped out a paper bag filled with crunchy gourmet chicken snaps.

“Want one?” I reached inside the bag, bent over, and held one to his nose so he could get a good whiff.

Bentley wagged his tail.

“That deserves a treat!” I handed it over. He swallowed it in one gulp and then looked at me expectantly, wagging his short little spotted Jack Russell tail. “Okay. Just one more. But then I want to see more wagging and less attitude.”

He gave me a little bark.

I handed over the treat and then scratched him behind the ear. “You like that, don’t you, boy?” He pushed his nose into my hand and then rubbed his body on me. It turned out that what Bentley had been trying to tell me all along wasn’t that he hated me, but that he was afraid. Whoever had been his owner before me wasn’t nice to him. That was what I figured out the night I came home and cried, missing Mack (who was in Greece) and feeling so lost about the future. Bentley seemed nicer than a pillow, and I guess while I was holding him, I let out some of that light. From that moment on, he began to change. Some pain wasn’t meant to be held onto forever.

“You got any of those tummy rubs for me?” said a deep voice from the open front door I’d forgotten to close.

I looked up and nearly wet my navy work slacks. Short, stylishly mussed jet black hair, a manicured five o’clock shadow that matched the curtain of inky black lashes surrounding piercing, sky blue eyes. And then there was that finely tailored suit that hugged his tall, powerful frame and broad shoulders.

“King?”

He stepped inside and shut the door, straightening his cufflinks like my presence bored the hell out of him and he was thinking of ten other places he’d rather be.

“No,” he said with that masculine timbre. “But did I fool you?”

“Mack?” I jerked upright and took a small step forward. That was when I saw the devilish little smile appear.