Lord King (The King) - Page 27

King hurt me all right. But not the way Dad thought. It was way more twisted than anyone could imagine.

I drew a slow breath. “This is the part where you have to keep an open mind, Dad. And listen. Just listen.”

About an hour later, I’d told Dad the short version of my completely unbelievable story. What worried me most was how he sat afterward, staring at the wall.

“Dad? Say something. Say I’m crazy. Say you love me even if I am crazy. Say—”

“I need a drink.” He got up and left the room.

I whooshed out a breath and followed him to the kitchen, where he emptied a quarter bottle of whisky into a coffee mug—probably because it was the closest thing in reach.

“Dad? Talk to me.”

He gulped down his drink and set the mug on the white tile counter. “Do you trust them?”

“Trust who?”

He turned to face me and leaned against the counter. “Do you trust these…witches? These Seer women?”

My mouth flapped for a moment. “I-I don’t know. Why?”

“Because you’d have to if you let them reset three thousand years of history. You’d have to be one hundred percent certain that the world will be better off. Not just for them, but for all of us.”

“So you believe me?” This wasn’t the response I expected. Was he for real? Or was he appeasing me and planning to call the crazy-bus to come get me after I left the room?

He hung his head. “All I know is that my daughter is the most loyal, honest, and hardworking person I’ve ever met. I know she’s the best of both her parents. I know I can’t trust much in this world, but I can trust you.”

My eyes filled with tears. I didn’t want to cry. Not now. Not when I needed to keep a firm grip on my emotions. “Thank you, but…you really believe me?”

“I don’t have to believe. I trust you. And if you’re saying you’re some sort of witch and your boyfriend is a ghost… Well, as impossible as that sounds, I have no reason to doubt you.”

“I’m touched, but I’m not a witch. And King isn’t a ghost. He’s…” I wasn’t sure what he was. A dead king who couldn’t die, who couldn’t live. He was what he was. King.

Dad stepped forward and took my hand. “I remember, Jeni. Not everything, but bits and pieces from after my accident. I wanted to discount them as dreams because I’d gone through so much pain, but now, hearing your story, I know it’s true. I know King did something to me.”

I bobbed my head, my lower lip quivering. He believes me. He believes me. It was a huge relief. “So what do I do?”

He dropped my hand. “Like I said: Do you trust these women? Seems to me they market themselves as healers and saints, out to save the world, but if that were true, then why did they plan to take over this Ten Club? Why slaughter King’s pregnant wife? Why kill his infant son? Why not just,” he shrugged, “let them live and punish King instead?”

That was a very, very good question.

He continued, “I know I don’t have a degree in history like you, but I’ve read enough to know there’s a pattern with tyrants throughout history: They market themselves as saviors. But at the end of the day, no one good, truly good, would want to take over a supernatural billionaire club or rewrite history unless they were after power.”

Dad was right. And not just right but fucking right. All along I’d bought into the notion that the Seers were good. All of them. But what if they weren’t? What if they were just people? Good. Bad. Somewhere in between. It was like King said: “Seers are no different than anyone else with the exception of their abilities. They must choose which path they take in life.”

“You could be right,” I admitted. “But I can’t argue with their point: King outlived his normal lifespan by thousands of years and created this monster, all because he claims it was the only way to keep control over evil people.”

“Who’s to say he isn’t right, Jeni? Power and greed are the sickness of every generation. Look at the Maya. Look at the Egyptians. They weren’t the nicest people. They enslaved other tribes, murdered in tribute to their gods, and performed unspeakable acts. You don’t know what the world would look like today if King hadn’t chosen to become king of the wicked in order to contain them.”

“You honestly think he did the right thing?” I scoffed.

“I’m saying we don’t know anything except for this outcome—what we see here and now. The rest is a guessing game for everyone except those Seers. But I think, given the nature of man, the probability that a bigger, badder fish would have taken King’s place in history is very strong.”

Tags: Mimi Jean Pamfiloff Paranormal
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