Lord King (The King) - Page 38

He was playing Sage. And yet, I magically don’t blame myself for jumping to the worst possible conclusion about him. In fact, he’d used it to his advantage. Having me appear confused, angry, and authentically terrified sold his little scheme to Sage, hadn’t it?

“Yes. Fine,” I said to Ansin with a bitter tinge in my tone, “we can work out something later. But I want your protection from people like her.” I jerked my head in Sage’s direction.

His gold-and-black eyes softened for a fraction of a second. It was only meant for me to see. “Always.”

I felt the sincerity of his words spike through me, and like the cold wind outside, it reached my bones and the backs of my knees.

“I don’t give a crap what you two do with King,” said Sage. “I was done with him anyway. Bastard keeps calling out for his wife.” Sage shook her head. “Love disgusts me.”

Why am I not surprised?

Ansin and Sage shook hands.

“Shall we go to the dining hall?” Sage gestured toward a set of wooden double doors to the side of this room.

I looked at Ansin. Not for permission, but because I didn’t know this bitch, and she was creepy as fuck.

He jerked his head. “Let’s get this over with.”

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

I set my purse on the couch and followed Sage into her dining hall. It was quite the room with vaulted ceilings, torch sconces, and a mahogany table, long enough to seat twenty people, stretching the length of the cavernous space. Overhead, chandeliers made from the skulls of tiny animals hung in tribute to Sage’s cruel nature.

And someone gets the prize for world’s worst decorator.

“Take a seat.” Sage pointed to a chair opposite her at the center of the table.

I pulled out the chair, noting the strange carving on the back. A human heart. This woman was nuts.

Ansin sat at the head of the table, away from us.

“Come closer, Ansin, I don’t bite. Much,” Sage said.

He held up his palms. “Don’t want to interfere with the session. This Seer hates my fucking guts. I’d only be a distraction.”

I didn’t hate his guts. I just didn’t trust him.

“All right.” I inhaled slowly. “First I need to relax. So if we could all be silent for a moment, it’ll help speed things along.”

“I thought you were supposed to be powerful?” she pushed.

“I said she was green, Sage. Give the girl a minute. I promise you won’t be disappointed.” Ansin folded his meaty, scarred-up arms across his broad chest and leaned back in his chair.

Knowing King’s life was on the line, I closed my eyes and tilted back my head. Focus. Focus. I’d never tried using my gift under this kind of pressure. Come on, Jeni. Come on. You can do this…

Fuck! I was getting nothing but a white room with white walls again. I had to be prepared to make something up—something believable just in case. You can do this. Just relax. Push your mind. See, Jeni. See Sage dying. It’s something you might actually enjoy watching. See…

Suddenly, I was flying through that same dark sky again. The night was foggy below, allowing me a view of the patches of lights on the ground, same as before. Above me, the stars twinkled over a moonless night. And like the last time, my body started falling to the ground, through clouds and pockets of cold air, through that stone roof.

I blinked, realizing I was here in this very room, sitting in this very chair. What the hell? Ansin stood behind Sage, his knife drawn and ready to slice her throat from ear to ear, just like he’d done to Victor.

My eyes flew open, and I locked eyes with Sage. “I’m so sorry,” I said.

“You can’t see my death?” Her eyes lit up, and she cackled, smacking her pale hand on the table. “I knew it! I knew I’d never die. Yes!”

“No,” I said, “I’m sorry because you die here in this room. Tonight.” I grinned just as Ansin’s arm reached across her neck and sliced deep.

Sage’s hands flew to the wound, her eyes wide with terror as her blood gushed onto the table.

I looked away, covering my mouth. I couldn’t say I felt sorry for her, not after everything she’d done to King, but I didn’t get off on it either. The only consolation was there’d be one less Ten Club member killing people’s moms, dads, brothers, sisters, and children.

With a final, gruesome gurgle, Sage’s body slumped forward, and her blood crept across the table. I scooted back in my chair, not wanting to come in contact with it.

“You all right?” Ansin asked as I quietly stared at Sage, swallowing my horror.

I shook my head no, but said, “I think so.”

“Good. Now you need to look away,” he said.

“Why-why?”

He reached down and cut away the top of her dress. Her collarbone—what I could see of it—was covered in an elaborate tribal tattoo, almost like a necklace.

Tags: Mimi Jean Pamfiloff Paranormal
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