“Niko Spiros. He’s an old friend.”
“Okay. Mind telling me what’s going on?” I had no idea who King really was—what he did for a living, how he suddenly had a chauffeur and an expensive car, or what he remembered about the people or person responsible for putting him in that box.
“Yes. I do mind.” King turned his attention to the front. “Head to the warehouse. From there we’ll go straight to my plane.”
“Very good, sir.”
Plane? He had a plane? Not that I cared, but it was difficult to reconcile Jack—no money, no identity, no memory—to King, the man who used to live in that blue Victorian with a vibe so dark, it had literally given Jack second thoughts. Why did Jack change his mind? Why did he put the cuff on? It had something to do with today’s date.
“All in good time, Miss Arnold,” said King.
“You need to give me some answers, or I’m not going anywhere with you. This time I mean it.” He couldn’t force me again. I wasn’t that weak fearful woman any longer. I could fight back.
A sadistic smile danced on his lips. “I’m beginning to like you, Jeni.”
Beginning? What about last night?
“That was fucking, not liking.”
“Well, I’m beginning to hate you. Again,” I added.
“Does my new suit frighten you?”
He didn’t mean the sleek black Italian thing he had on. He meant his new persona. Yes.
“Good.”
I shook my head. This cryptic crap was getting old. “So, are you finally going to tell me who you are?”
He smiled again. “You are about to find out.”
We arrived at the warehouse in silence, but this time, the sun was shining bright, the sky blue. I almost believed that King willed it.
Without any fanfare, he left the car and headed for the building, not bothering to bark instructions. He expected me to follow like his loyal dog. I wasn’t sure I had a choice, so I did.
I stepped inside the well-lit cavernous space, unable to believe my eyes. Those empty racks were now filled, just like I’d imagined. Cars, crates, paintings, sculptures, barrels of whisky, and cases of wine.
“I don’t believe it,” I muttered.
King didn’t bother looking over any of the stuff and headed toward the back to the stairs. I followed, trying to let it all soak in. King was a collector, like that woman said.
How had he hid it all? I bet he used one of his famous wards.
Very good, Jeni. Are you coming? his deep voice bellowed in my mind.
I followed the stairs to the second floor and found him up on a tall ladder. “Don’t touch anything. There are many dangerous objects in here.”
My gaze floated along the rows of shelves reaching the ceiling. On this floor, the objects were smaller. And possibly scarier.
I passed by a planter with Venus flytraps the size of bagels that seemed to be following me.
I scooted away, accidentally colliding with something on the shelves across from them. I yelped.
“Do not touch anything. I mean it.” King was already up to the very top of one shelf, rummaging around for something.
Right beside me, a gurgle came out of whatever I’d just bumped. I slowly swiveled my head and looked at the big jar with green bubbly stuff inside. “What’s that?”
King ignored me, too busy with his search.
I leaned in closer, bending down a little. Something was living inside there.
Suddenly a pair of eyes met mine. “Jesus!” I stumbled back, pointing. “There’s a head in there!”
King said nothing and kept to his task, but I knew the bastard heard me.
“Why is there a fucking human head in that jar?” I yelled. “And why the fuck is it moving?” That was when I noticed another one next to it. Both were watching me, their mouths opening and closing, as if crying out for help.
Dear God. Dear God. What the fuck?
“God has nothing to do with those two, Miss Arnold,” King called out from his perch. “And do not feel sorry for them. If they still had bodies, they would rape you or sell you as a sex slave if given the chance.”
I covered my face and turned my back, unable to look at them. “Are they alive?”
“Yes.”
Heads. Living heads. Screaming in pain. “Jack, you can’t leave them like that.” My request had more to do with me than with them. Something so gruesome and terrifying had no business existing in the world.
“King. My name is King. And I may do whatever I like. Ah! Here it is.” He held out a small wooden box in his hand. “Catch.”
I held out my hands and caught it. The thing was about the size of a shoebox. I wasn’t going to ask what was inside because I didn’t care. I just wanted him to start giving me answers. Who erased his memories and threw him in the ocean? Why? Was he as evil as he believed? What was in that newspaper that changed his mind about walking away from his past life?
“You ask too many questions,” he said.
“Yeah, well, you don’t give enough answers,” I threw back.
He climbed down and faced me. “How is this for an answer: If you do as you are told, I will make you a very wealthy woman, Jeni. Wealthy and powerful.”
Do what? I frowned with confusion. He kept skipping over critical information. “Wait. Never mind. I don’t care. And I have no interest in being powerful or wealthy.”
“You genuinely mean it.” He sounded surprised. “You do not wish to have money, to be the sort of person who fears nothing?”
I wouldn’t flush a winning lotto ticket down the toilet, but I didn’t want to be some sort of supernatural mob boss, which was what I assumed he was getting at.
I shook my head no.
“You are lying to yourself.” He grabbed my chin and gazed down into my eyes. “If you could punish the man who killed your mother, would you do it? How about the person who broke your father’s legs? Having power means making sure those who harm you or your family pay with their lives.”
“I’d rather see them go to jail.” As I said those words, I knew it was a lie. We’d both witnessed what happened to people who hurt me.
“You would never feel helpless again, like you do about your mother.”
Her death caused the sort of pain that never really went away, especially because there’d been no justice. However, even if I wanted that sort of power, which I didn’t, I’d come to learn a few things over the past several days. “What’s the price?”
He dropped his hand and lifted his chin. “My little Seer is catching on.”
“Yes. And?”
“I want you to help me kill the people who murdered my wife, son, and unborn daughter. Then I want you to kill the person who put me at the bottom of the ocean.”
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
The news couldn’t be more shocking. King had a wife! He had children. I never imagined him with a family, but the fact they had been murdered was awful. Just awful.
And I slept with him. Technically, there was nothing immoral about that, but it just felt wrong. Had he known why there was a huge hole inside him, I doubted anything would’ve happened between us. He was still in mourning, still angry. And me? I didn’t know how I felt about him.