Lord King (The King) - Page 6

I stared into Jeni’s golden-brown eyes. So full of life, this one. And thirsty for vengeance, too. I found it very attractive, but not enough to act on it again. “Victor is not your usual Ten Club member. None of the three remaining individuals are.”

“How?”

“Victor was married to Serina, and she had a most impressive arsenal.”

Serina had taken over Ten Club during my long absence—a “vacation” at the bottom of the ocean. It had been my attempt to end my suffering after my family was killed. Did not work, of course, and ironically, Hurricane Mia had washed me to shore and served me up to Jeni.

“You killed Serina the night of the Ten Club massacre,” Jeni said. “So what’s your point?”

“My point is that Victor is now in possession of every artifact, every item of power Serina amassed.”

“You think he might hurt me,” Jeni concluded.

I nodded. “Me as well.” I doubted he could kill me, for obvious reasons, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t subdue or torture me for a few millennia. The cold truth was, I had done the same to others. I feared such a fate. No end. Just pain.

“I’m coming anyway.” Jeni narrowed her eyes. “The ancient ones ordered me to stay by your side and ensure there’s no funny business. No detours. No double-crossing.”

“You do not trust me?” Good for her.

“What I think doesn’t matter.”

I inhaled deeply through my nostrils. The Seers knew I could tell them to go fuck themselves. With the power I had, I could ward the entire planet and block them from ever returning.

Of course, they were not without their own bag of tricks. It was their curse keeping me here.

“I doubt the ancient ones wish you to join me for a killing,” I pointed out.

“Then I agree to leave the murdering to you, but I’m coming along. Fair ’nuff?”

I nodded, not wishing to waste more time. My soul and mind were restless. My heart grew weaker by the day from the darkness inside, eating away at it. Without Mia to keep me grounded, I feared my time to find redemption—or even care about it—was growing short.

“Well?” Jeni prodded. “Do we have a deal? Because I want the last thing he sees to be my face smiling down and telling him how worthless his pathetic fuck of a life was.”

Hell, she is getting dark. I liked it. “Fair enough.”

“Great. So where’s Victor?”

“Miami.” He had to know I was coming for him. All three surviving members of Ten Club had to know. They hadn’t risen to their places in Ten Club—the most untrustworthy, depraved, power-hungry psychopaths ever to walk the earth—by being foolish. Which was why I wasn’t going to Miami to simply kill Victor. I was going for a fight, my triumph not guaranteed.

CHAPTER THREE

Jeni

Victor Escorcia. Where to start? I guessed a good place was explaining how he got drunk one night and ran over my mother with his car. My father had to raise me alone and never quite got over losing her. So, basically, my childhood sucked. But the devastating impact Victor had on the world didn’t end there.

Just a few short weeks ago, I discovered he’d killed tons of women. It was his favorite pastime, and Ten Club protected him. That was why Victor never went to prison for murdering Mom.

I just wished I understood why King had created that organization to begin with. What the fuck was he thinking? I guessed it didn’t matter now because he ultimately lost everything over his choices, and what was done was done. Now he had to clean up his evil mess.

How?

I only knew a small part of the Seers’ plan. King had to destroy any evidence of his evil existence. In addition, the Seers wanted to come back. Yes, to this world. Alive. They claimed the world needed them to help repair the harm King’d done—“set our fates on a different path” they’d said. Seemed like a damned big undertaking to me, but what did I know?

King and I slipped into his black Mercedes sedan parked along the alley behind his office building. A light drizzle fell from the sky, and I was still soaked, which was probably why King put his coat on the passenger seat.

“So, no more chauffeurs?” I asked as he took the wheel. The last time we were together, he’d had servants at his beck and call. The weird part was they’d all had the last name of Spiros. All of them Greek.

“The days of servants, subjects, and kingdoms are over for me,” he said.

Maybe so, but he was still a king. The Seers were counting on his leadership when they returned—something I didn’t understand.

“What was that?” he asked.

“The Seers are counting on you to make things right,” I said. “So we should get moving. Lots to do.”

Tags: Mimi Jean Pamfiloff Paranormal
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