Lord King (The King)

Too bad because I wasn’t able to see much of the London area as we drove through and headed north. I’d never been to England, and at the rate things were going, I doubted I ever would again.

I’ll be lucky to survive another week. Like Dad always said, if you surrounded yourself with bad people, bad things happened.

Speaking of bad, Ansin remained in a meditative state the entire drive, which only amped up my nerves. What did he think would happen? It had to be bad if he needed to center himself for an eight-and-half-hour flight plus another few hours during the drive.

Be optimistic. Maybe he’s catching up on sleep?

Just as the sun set, the driver turned down a long dirt road filled with potholes and puddles, finally stopping at an iron gate wedged between twenty-foot-high stone walls.

I was relieved to be here, but nothing about this entrance gave me a good feeling. Reminds me of Ansin: fuck off!

Ansin started getting out of the car.

“We’re walking from here?” I asked.

“It’s for his safety.” Ansin gestured to the driver, who didn’t move an inch, almost like he wasn’t even listening.

“But it’s safe enough for me?”

“Not if you’re alone. But you have me.” He almost smiled, but it fizzled mid-lip.

Crap. Even Ansin couldn’t pretend this was entirely safe.

He got out, and with a grimace, I grabbed my purse and followed. The man drove off. Once again, no money was exchanged.

I shook my head. Ansin’s mind-control powers thoroughly baffled me. I hope he doesn’t use them on me. Would I even know if he did? The thought disturbed me.

Ansin pushed on the gate, which opened with a creak. A cold gust of wind kicked up, and my body filled with waves of pinpricks, a sure sign this was a bad place with bad things inside.

“You look cold. Take this.” Ansin handed me his black leather jacket.

The temperature wasn’t the problem, but I took it anyway. I only had on my jeans and T-shirt that I’d thrown on before heading out to meet Ansin at the café. From there, we took off. No phone charger, toothbrush, or clean undies. I was unprepared for this trip in more ways than one.

“Thanks.” I slid on the jacket and watched Ansin sail through the gate. Meanwhile, my feet were having an argument with my brain, which was pretty damned sure it wanted nothing to do with being on Sage’s property.

“I told you I would keep you safe, Jeni, but I can’t do it if you stay out there.”

“I’m not feeling so good. Maybe that sandwich.” Or it’s the tiny Seer inside me, yelling not to go in.

“Do what you need to but make it quick.” He marched off, his heavy footsteps crunching over gravel.

He was leaving me here? I looked over my shoulder at the darkness surrounding me. We were in the middle of nowhere.

“Don’t forget why you came all this way, little treasure! Your King awaits,” Ansin called out.

Right. King was inside, being tortured in the most gruesome of ways. If there was ever a time to step up and be brave, it was now.

Hugging my purse to my chest, I held my breath and stepped through the gate. Phew! I half expected to fall into a pit of body organs.

“Hold up. I’m coming.” I hurried after Ansin, following the sound of his footsteps. Thank God he was a big guy who made lots of noise when he walked, because I could hardly see where I was going. The rain had stopped, but the sky was overcast and as close to pitch black as it could get.

Ansin didn’t slow his pace.

“Hey! Wait for me,” I barked, but he didn’t stop until he reached what I guessed was the damned castle. I couldn’t see squat—just a dark structure with a few shadows and angles that appeared to be several stories tall.

I expected Ansin to ring the doorbell or knock, but instead he waltzed right in.

What the hell? On the other hand, I was beginning to expect this kind of behavior from him. He walked around like he owned the world and answered to no one. Maybe it was true.

I slowly leaned inside the foyer, praying I didn’t find people strung up on walls or children and puppies in decorative cages.

But no. The foyer was a small art gallery with beautiful paintings of flowered meadows, horses, and grazing sheep. Modern lighting, mounted to the ten-foot ceiling, illuminated each piece of art, giving the space a relaxing, reflective vibe.

Yeah, don’t trust it. Especially because a set of solid wooden doors blocked the view on the other side. What was in there? Besides the bedroom where they’re harvesting King’s organs. For what? Who knew?

Did it really matter?

Like Ariadna said, I needed to believe in my gut. Unfortunately, my gut said, “Run away! Run away!”