Lord King (The King)

“Excellent suggestion.” No one should be allowed in here after we left. It was far too dangerous. Not that I cared about any person stupid enough to wander in, but we didn’t need someone getting a hold of Sage’s arsenal. After I picked through the good stuff, of course.

“Let’s go rescue your King.” I turned and headed toward the arched doorway that led to Sage’s private study, her expensive Scotch stash, and to the staircase that led upstairs.

“Stay close. Only step on the black squares with crosses.”

“Okay. I’m not even going to ask.”

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Jeni

So the rest of Sage’s castle was a house of horror. Dark, smelly, and dusty. Nothing like the downstairs area, which I assumed she used to impress or disarm people when they entered the home.

Upstairs, which was lit with more torch sconces, Sage had brown-and-black checkered runners on the stone floors. The black squares had brown crosses and the brown squares had black. The point was, the difference was subtle, but according to Ansin, one wrong step could land you with a spear in your leg.

“You really helped her booby-trap this place?” I asked, following Ansin down the narrow corridor.

“It’s common for club members to barter for goods and services. I am particularly good at medieval warfare.”

Really? “How did that happen?”

“I spent time with Richard I, running his private security, more or less. He had a lot of enemies. He loved war.”

To think that Ansin was there during the 1100s was pretty amazing. “So you actually knew Richard the Lionheart?”

“Yes.”

“Who else did you mingle with? I mean, of historical significance?”

“The list is far too long, but to be honest, the more interesting people—the ones who left a memorable mark—were never the ones you read about in those books you love.”

“How do you know which books I like?” Oh, that was right. He’d been watching me.

“I always do my research on people, whether it’s to kill them or—”

“Blackmail them into being your wife?”

He was silent for a long moment as we continued our careful steps down the long hallway.

“For the record, you’re the first,” he threw out.

“Am I supposed to feel special now?”

“Yes.”

Yeah, I bet he thought that. “I’m not sure I agre—”

“Stop,” he barked.

“Excuse me? Don’t tell me to shut u—”

“Stop. Don’t move.” Ansin froze in front of me.

Oh no. “What’s wrong?”

“You smell that?” he asked.

Yep. I sure did. The air smelled like farts with a hint of death.

“I smell sage.”

Fuck. “Is she back?” I looked over my shoulder, wondering if that crazy bitch had somehow managed to put her head back on and was now coming for us.

“No, the herb. Sage. It was her favorite. She mixed it into all her dream products.”

“I have no idea what that means.”

Ansin hung his head. “Son of a bitch.”

My heart raced. My legs burned with the urge to run. “What? What’s wrong?”

Ansin turned carefully and faced me. “She had a gas.”

I crinkled my nose. Explains the smell. “I hope she’s in a better place now?”

“No, Jeni. She made her dream drug into a gas. She’d been working on it forever. I never thought she’d figure it out, but she did.”

“I’m not following.”

“We triggered one of her traps. We’ve just been drugged.”

“You mean with that dream stuff? What do we do?”

“Her bedroom is at the end of this hall. That’s where she has King. But we won’t make it. We have about ten seconds before the dreams kick in.”

Oh God. “What kind of dreams?”

“Without someone to direct you, you’ll either dream of your worst nightmare or, if you’re lucky, something you desire.”

My worst nightmare. So I had a fifty-fifty chance of dreaming I was here in this castle? I didn’t like the sound of that at all. Nor did I like the idea of dreaming of King—the only thing I desired.

“We can’t stay in this hallway.” Ansin took my hand. “We need to go in there. I’m sorry.” He pointed to a door about ten feet away.

“Sorry? Why sorry?”

He tugged me along, ignoring my question. “Careful. Watch your step.” He pushed on the door and yanked me inside.

The smell. Oh God, the smell. I covered my face and retched. “What is that?”

“Sage’s storeroom and laboratory, for lack of a better term. I won’t turn on the lights because it’ll only fuck with your head—the last thing you need right now. One second to go…”

I felt my body relaxing against my will. Loose neck, loose knees, a warm sensation in my chest. “It’s starting.”

“I know.” Ansin tugged on my hand as he sank to the floor. “Put your back against the door.”

I drifted down, sitting next to him, gripping his hand like it was a lifeline to keep me safe.

“What’s going to happen, Ansin?” I mumbled.

“I’m going to tell you what to dream about. And when you wake tomorrow, it’ll feel like it was all real, but it’s not. You just have to remember none of it was real.”