Lord King (The King)

“Man? What man?” I asked.

“Ariadna! That is against the rules. You have said too much,” barked Circe.

“Silence,” Ariadna growled. “You’ve all made a mess of things for far too long, and I am the only one who can clean it up. We are doing this my way.”

Ariadna pointed an angry finger at me. “Go back. And do not come here again on your own. I will summon you when the time is right.”

I suddenly felt the room spinning, my mind being jerked back into that limo. No! Don’t send me there! I can’t—

The sound of male grunting and groaning filled my ears. The sensation of a heavy body crushing me under its weight grew increasingly painful.

Oh God. Please tell me he’s not doing what I think! The groaning stopped, only to be replaced by a warm liquid coating my chest and neck, soaking the front of my shirt.

With a gasp, I opened my eyes.

A man with jaw-length black hair and deep olive skin hunched behind Victor with a bloody knife in his hand. Victor grabbed for his own throat as blood poured from a gaping wound.

“Oh shit!” I pushed myself to my elbows and scurried back a few inches, trying to put distance between us.

Victor fell sideways, gurgling his blood onto the leather seat.

“Hello, Jeni. Very nice to meet you,” said the man with the knife, hovering in the limo doorway.

“Who-what-I—” I stared across the back of the dimly lit car, wondering if I recognized his face. I could only make out his high cheekbones, full lips, and intense eyes. I would never forget a glower like that. I didn’t know him.

He stowed his knife in a sheath attached to his belt, bent down, and removed a small cuff with tiny blue stones from Victor’s wrist. “Don’t want you coming back, now do we, Victor?” The man slid the bracelet into his pocket and gazed at me with his penetrating eyes. “Tell King he needs to be more careful. He shouldn’t leave something so precious unguarded.”

“Who are you?” I muttered.

“A friend.” He smiled with a venomous gleam, not so dissimilar to King. Except King had a streak of goodness he couldn’t shake. It was why he’d failed at leading Ten Club; he hadn’t been sick and twisted enough. But this guy? I detected zero goodness in him. No heart. No soul. All I sensed was a massive void. So then why did he just save me?

“What are you?” I asked.

He flashed that wicked smile again. “Pass along my message to King. Good night, little treasure.” The man walked off.

Panting uncontrollably, my stomach in knots, I turned my head and looked at Victor. His eyes were vacant. He wasn’t breathing.

Sonofabitch! I’d wanted him to die knowing his death was the only good thing he’d ever done for the world. Instead, he probably died feeling confused because he’d been blindsided by some guy with a knife. What sort of punishment was that? Victor had gone out way too easily. Not that I wasn’t grateful for being alive.

I pressed my hand over my lower stomach. I’m grateful for the both of us.

A small gurgling sound from the front of the limo caught my attention. I sat up. The chauffeur’s head was tilted back at an odd angle. His neck had been sliced too.

Good. “Asshole.”

I scraped myself up off the floor and sat on the seat that stretched the length of the car to catch my breath.

“What the hell is this, Seer?” King’s head popped inside the limo.

About fucking time. I let out an exhausted sigh. “You were right. Victor knew we were coming.”

CHAPTER SEVEN

King

Victor was dead. And while I normally wouldn’t give two fucks about a member of Ten Club being executed, this one concerned me. He’d had the means to protect himself.

How did the man Jeni described get to him so easily?

“Are you certain there was no struggle?” I asked Jeni as we drove to the resort I owned several miles down the coast. I owned many properties all around the world because when you lived for thousands of years like I had, land seemed to be the only thing that never went away. Governments could be overthrown. Civilizations could collapse and disappear. Currency lost its value. Gold and diamonds were difficult to carry around and could be stolen. But land was land no matter which century I lived in.

As long as you have the means to prevent others from claiming it. Which was where power came in. With power, a man could have anything he wanted. Almost anything. And with the sorts of powers I had acquired over the centuries, I lived the life of a king no matter where I went. No one ruled over me.

Comical that these Seers believe the tables won’t turn. Or that I would sit back and act like their obedient child. Sooner or later, I would find a way to break their latest curse: forced immortality. Death would not have me because I was not in full possession of my soul—the only part of me that could cross over.