King for a Day (29 page)

“Any life?” Then I assumed he wanted to bring back Hagne so he could get his revenge and kill her all over again.

“No. You are mistaken, Mia. I forgave Hagne a long time ago.”

“You expect me to believe that you’ve given up the one thing you’ve been after all these years?” I asked, not buying a word of it.

“She was mad from all her witchery. She made my brother mad, too. What I wanted was another chance. I wanted to take back what was stolen from me. However, if the curse is lifted, and I do not take the life the Artifact offers me, I will die. That’s good enough for me.”

“You’re joking.” I blinked. “Now you expect me to believe that you want to die? And you gave up getting revenge on Hagne? And that you’d let Justin come back in your place?” He was madder than me if he thought I’d buy that story.

“Yes. That is exactly right. I’ve been alive, Mia, for over three thousand years. I have finally made my peace with my demons. I am ready to sacrifice everything I’ve worked for and give you back your brother. All you need to give in return is redemption.”

Redemption?

He nodded. “But the redemption must be genuine. You must know everything—my sins, my demons, my goodness. Otherwise, the Artifact will not work.”

Holy crap.
He’d been trying to show me who he truly was, just hoping I might still see something worth caring for? Some kernel of goodness? Something to…

“You’re asking me to…love you?” He was mad. Mad.

“I suppose I am.”

Oh Lord
. I gasped and covered my mouth. I finally understood his insistence to have me read his journal and see his memories. All along, he’d wanted me to see the truth, the evil, the horrors of his existence, so that I might understand and accept him anyway. Scars, beauty, pain, and all.

“You killed my brother!”

“No,” he said calmly, “Vaughn killed your brother. And your brother made his own choices, free from any influence of mine.”

“Bullshit! If I hadn’t been locked up in that basement, I would never have convinced Vaughn the truth about the Artifact.”

“If your brother hadn’t made a deal with the devil and tried to steal his woman, he would never have been in that situation to begin with.”

Yes, Justin’s choices had set the wheels in motion for everything, including my meeting King. But that didn’t mean Justin deserved to die.

“No. Of course not,” he said, once again reading my thoughts. “But do you not see?” He stepped in a bit closer. “Justin finding the Artifact. Vaughn being the catalyst for the events that led you, the key, to finding me. It was all meant to be.”

Was it really? Because I couldn’t believe that this horror was my destiny. Or Justin’s.

“Mia.” King slipped his hand to the back of my neck and stared down at me. “Please.”

I paused to think it over, but I couldn’t do it. I only saw the man who’d done terrible things to the people I loved. I saw only the pain he’d caused me.

Yes, a part of me also now understood him, too. I’d walked a mile in his shoes. I now understood how easily, given the right circumstances, one’s soul could be corrupted. Hell, I’d plotted to kill two people! And now, I was dead set on making at least one of those lives end.

“I’m asking for a simple trade. Your love for Justin’s life. It is the only way, Mia, for everything to be set right again, for everyone to get back what was taken.”

I gazed into those cold, gray eyes, searching for the right answer, but the only one that came to me was one of hate. I filled my lungs with ocean air and gritted my teeth.
For Justin. For Justin. For—

No, Mia. This needs to end. And even if you brought Justin back, he’d only suffer.
Because I wouldn’t be able to bring back Jamie or that baby. Justin would only come back as the madman filled with grief he was when he’d left. Yes, perhaps with time, he might heal, but it was a moot point; I could never give King the redemption he needed.

“I’m sorry,” I said. “I can’t forgive you. I can’t give you redemption. I can only offer hate.”
You’ve destroyed the one thing I loved most in this world, and you destroyed who I am. There is no coming back for me, and there’ll be no coming back for you. You are not my king. I will never be your queen. You are nothing to me
.

King’s cold eyes didn’t flinch. He said nothing.

I walked out of that place, feeling his eyes on me every step of the way. But I ignored him. He was invisible to me now. And there was no going back.

EPILOGUE

A few days later, I’d been through paperwork hell, but I’d made it. Back to San Francisco, back to my parents, and back to face the bottomless pit of anguish that awaited me. Oddly enough, I’d cherished those days—the calm before the storm. The time alone had given me the space to reflect on the events, on King, and on the change that had occurred inside my heart. Where light once existed, only darkness reigned. Where hope once flourished, despair lived. But unlike King, I knew I still had a chance at redemption. If I could somehow manage to let go of my hate, my need to punish Vaughn, my wounds might heal with time. And so might those of my parents. I hoped. Because when I arrived at their home, the look on their faces told me that someone had already shared the tragic news—Justin was gone—and they might never recover.

I rushed to my mother and father, who sat on their couch, surrounded by Becca, her mother, and my aunt and uncle from Los Angeles who we barely ever saw apart from holidays.

“What’s going on?” I asked, but already knew.

Everyone’s heads snapped up.

“Mia, where have you been?” Becca asked.

“It’s a long story, but I lost my cell phone and—”

“Oh, thank God, you’re all right. We were so worried…” My mother’s words faded into a heart-wrenching sob. “Justin is dead,” she hiccupped, sopping up her tears with a wrinkled tissue.

I sank down on my knees in front of my parents, crippled by their pain. Deep purple swirled around them like a giant tornado.

Oh Lord.

“He killed himself,” my mother cried. “The guilt over what happened to his team was too much.”

“What?” No. That wasn’t what happened. Not even close. “Who told you that?”

“The people from the embassy in Mexico called,” said Becca, who stood to the side of the room, her eyes red and puffy.

The embassy? It was probably one of Vaughn’s cronies.

“We tried to reach you, but—”

“Did you talk to him?” my father asked. “Did you see him before he…?”

I thought of how I’d been there, watching Justin’s final moments, but couldn’t help him. And the look of sadness on his face after he’d died and come to see me, begging to bring him back.

“I-I-I…” I bit my tongue and reached to hug my mother. I looked toward the ceiling and rocked her in my arms. This was too much to bear. Even for me.

Oh Lord. Please forgive me for what I’m about to do.
It was selfish and cold. It was the wrong choice, and I knew it. But I was no longer the good, caring person I once was. Because if I was, I would let Justin lie in peace where his pain couldn’t hurt him anymore.

“There’s been a mistake,” I said. “I just talked to him. He’s not dead.”

Fine, King. You win. Deal.

I felt a wave of tingles spark over my “K” tattoo.

To be continued…

NOTE FROM
THE AUTHOR:

Hi All!

Well…what can I say? I do love my cliffhangers, and trilogies are the perfect place to have them. The anxiety and suspense have a definitive end in sight. But I want to thank those of you who have given my non-snarky work a chance. I love, love, love to joke, but it’s so much fun to play evil badass, too!

KING OF ME is scheduled to be written summer 2014 and released before the holidays. As it will also be an Indie title (no pre-sales!) be sure to sign up for my mailing list or monitor my FB/Twitter feeds for release date news.

And, last but not least, if you enjoyed this story and took the time to leave a review, please be sure to drop me a note (on FB or
[email protected]
). I have some super-sexy, signed book marks just for you! (These are NOT the ones on my page for general giveaways, but are of a shirtless, ten-packed King. Yummmm!).

HAPPY READING!

Mimi Jean

Acknowledgements:

As always, the kudos must go where kudos are deserved: to my friends, family, and fans who support my crazy dream, beta read, cheer for me, and occasionally bring me a salad so that I don’t die of poor nutrition. Thank you, ALL! (You KNOW who you are!)

KING OF ME (Book 3 of the King Trilogy)

Coming Late 2014!

Don’t miss new release updates! Sign up for Mimi Jean’s mailing list:

www.mimijean.net

FATE BOOK, Available now!

FATE BOOK 2
, coming Dec. 2014!

Dakota Dane is about to tell a lie she’ll wish she hadn’t. Because her lie is dangerous, sexy, and just showed up on campus, angry as hell and looking for her…

Ugly duckling Dakota Dane has a new boyfriend. He’s male-model gorgeous, built to perfection, wealthy, and smart. He is also a lie. As in, 100% fabricated. Does it matter that Dakota has a perfectly good reason for making him up? Not really. Not when Dakota’s made-up boyfriend shows up in the flesh.

So is she crazy? All signs point to maybe. But the walking, talking enigma with the deadly vibe isn’t about to give her any answers or let her out of his sight. And with college just around the corner, Dakota fears her dreams of a bright future have just collided with a dark rabbit hole…

~~

FATE BOOK
EXCERPT

Lord. Whoever had been on the other end of that phone was coming to my room. I had to get out of there. Because as much as I loved believing in miracles, those didn’t exist, which meant this guy was some psychopathic stalker, some frigging lunatic who’d convinced everyone he was my boyfriend.

I slipped from the covers and immediately had to brace myself on the edge of the hospital bed. My head pulsed with painful, dizzying jabs. I slowly stood upright and willed myself steady. My ribs and hip were sore, but I’d survive. That was, if I got the heck out of there.

I blew out a breath and wobbled to the clear plastic bag with my belongings hanging on the wall. I had to find my mother. I had to warn her. What if this guy showed up and tried something?

I slipped on my jeans, sweatshirt, and sneakers, not bothering with the other stuff. I grabbed my phone and purse and tiptoed to the door.

I poked my head out, hoping to spot my mother doing rounds, but instead I saw—

The breath whooshed from my lungs.
Santiago?

Cue slow motion and avalanche of conflicting, irrational thoughts accompanied by an imminent panic attack.

My stomach and heart squeezed into a brick and then dropped through the center of my body.

Lord, help me.

Because the man I’d invented—correction—the
gorgeous
man I’d stolen a picture of, stood twenty feet away, speaking to my mother, wearing low-slung faded jeans and a fitted white, button-down shirt.