King of Me (20 page)

“What’s the matter?” Not that I knew where “here” was, or if “here” was safe, but I didn’t care. I wasn’t going to leave him. Not for anything.

“It is far too dangerous for you to stay.”

I stood up. “Where are we?”

“Athens.”

“Are you at war?”
Dammit, dammit, dammit. Why didn’t I pay attention in World History?

“No. However…” His voice faded away. “You cannot stay. I am not—you are not safe.”

He was afraid he’d hurt me. That had to be it. “I am
not
leaving.”

He started mumbling to himself as if slipping away inside his head again.

“King?”

He looked at me with angry, dark eyes, and my heart jolted inside my chest.

“What happened to you?” I whispered.

Just then, two men entered: one blond and the other with red hair, both wearing similar garb—gray wool cloaks embroidered around the edges and belted tunics. They held an unconscious man who’d been beaten.

I stilled.

King looked at the men, unfazed. “Throw him down in the room.”

“The room”?

“What’s going on?” I asked.

King’s eyes warned me not to speak. He then instructed the two men to take me away, to make sure it was somewhere safe and where he could never find me.

The men had a coldness in their eyes, like they were the sort a woman should never be left alone with.

“I’m not leaving with them,” I said. “I am
not
leaving you.”

King was on me faster than I could blink, his trembling hands gripped tightly on my shoulders and his face filled with rage. “You will do as you are told, woman.”

“Or what?” I growled.

“Or you will die.” He released me with a sharp push, and I stumbled back. “Take her. Now.”

The two men rushed over and grabbed my arms so tightly, I felt their dirty nails digging into my skin.

I twisted away. “I’ll go. Just don’t touch me.”

The blond man didn’t speak, but I had the distinct impression he was about to slap me. I glowered, daring him to do it.

He looked away.

Good choice.

As we headed toward the large, arched doorway leading outside, I heard King repeat to himself, “Somewhere I cannot find her. Ever.”

Had he forgotten about his “K” tattoo? He could find me anywhere.

The man is mad.

~~~

Partially in shock, I went quietly with the two men, hoping that they might explain what the hell happened back there. To be clear, though, I had no intention of leaving for good. I wasn’t about to lose King again.

Passing several men in cloaks and women wearing pristine white dresses, with elaborately braided hair, we made our way down the cobblestone street stacked with perfectly square whitewashed temples. The sun was just setting, filling the sky with ominous reds, and when I looked back over my shoulder, toward the massive structure we’d just come from—King’s home, I presumed—it glared back with empty dark doorways that reminded me of his eyes. The massive white pillars surrounding the palace looked like giant wicked teeth that wanted to chew me up and spit me out.

“Who is he?” I wondered aloud.

The blond man glanced at me, but kept quiet.

“Do you not know who he is?” said the man with red hair.

“No,” I answered. Of course, that wasn’t entirely true.

“He is the most powerful man in all of Greece, appointed by the gods themselves.”

Okay. King is a representative of the gods.
Or at least that’s what they believed. Honestly, given what I knew about him, it would be an easy assumption for people to make. He was, after all, not exactly human.

“Why is he sending you away?” the redhead asked.

“I don’t know.” Not entirely true, either. King was mad, and he knew it. He wanted me to be as far away from him as possible.

“Did he not tell you?” said the blond.

I shook my head no.

“Perhaps she is a thief, and he likes her,” said the other guy. “She is very pretty.”

“I’m not a thief. But if I were, why would that matter?” I asked.

“He would not send you away; he would have you executed.”

“For stealing?” I asked.

“You really have not heard of Draco, have you? He is not kind,” said the blond.

“He is not meant to be,” argued the other. “He is meant to serve justice.”

“He’s an executioner?” I asked.

“He is the law.”

Jesus
. King was some Ancient Greek purveyor of justice.
Damn
. I could envision him really getting off on that. It would appeal to his domineering maleness in a big way. That said, I needed to help him, not go “far, far away.” I needed to break the…

Fuck.
That’s when I realized I’d traveled forward without the Artifact.
No, no, no.
I let out a heavy breath.
Don’t panic, Mia. Think.

All right. Maybe I could find a way to go back and retrieve it. But how? I didn’t know how I’d managed to leave Minoa in the first place.

I hit rewind and recalled the moment I’d landed in that dark room. I’d been sitting next to the dying fire on the beach, thinking about King, wondering what had happened to turn him so violent that night on the island.

Maybe that was the real reason I was here; this was another chance to change things.
I need to go back and talk to King
.

“Wait,” I said to the two men. “I have to—”

Blondie whipped out a dagger and pushed me forward. “Keep going.”

I stopped walking to test if he really intended to use the knife or simply wanted to intimidate me. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Blondie nodded at the other guy, who picked me up and threw me over his shoulder. I fought, and people didn’t seem to care one bit as I yelled and clawed at his back.

We made our way into a crowded square, where I was deposited in front of a large man with white hair who had a crowd of filthy-looking thugs gathered around. The moment the white-haired man saw me, he immediately stopped what he was doing. “Well, well. What have we here?”

Blondie proudly said, “I want my debts wiped clean.”

The man smiled and flashed a mouth full of rotting teeth. “Chain her up over there.”

“Asshole. You’re selling me?” I couldn’t believe I had to go through this again. Only this time, I was being sold away from King.

“Sorry,” said Blondie. “If our master does not want you, then I cannot let a good opportunity like this pass by.” He faced the man. “Make sure she gets sold elsewhere.”

The man nodded, clearly understanding that I was stolen goods.

“You were supposed to take me somewhere far away, somewhere safe,” I protested.

“Trust me,” said Blondie. “You will be taken far. As for ‘safe,’ that will be up to you keeping your mouth shut.” Knife in hand, he pushed me up onto a cart with five other women and then shackled my wrist to a thick chain running along the side. I barely had enough room to sit. From the elevated vantage point, however, I truly registered where I was: in the midst of an ocean of slaves as far as the eye could see. Some in cages, some chained together in long lines. It was a time in history when humanity lacked the utter definition of the word.

After nightfall, the caravan of horses and carts headed out of the city. I couldn’t see much on the dark road, but it felt like being on a movie set for
Spartacus
. Every man I saw was dirty, smelly, and armed, including the battalion of soldiers—some on horses, but most on foot—accompanying this particular shipment as we made our way inland. With every passing hour, the air grew colder, and I knew I needed to get the hell out of there before I became someone’s property.

What a goddamned nightmare.
I bet Justin, aka the history nut, would love being here, though.

My mind hit a brick wall.
Justin.
With everything that had happened, I’d briefly forgotten about him and my parents. And now I realized that I’d done nothing to change the bleakness of their future. Nothing. All of the major pieces remained intact: King’s people ending in war because of Hagne, King becoming cursed, the Artifact…

I wanted to scream. It felt like no matter what any of us did, fate was determined to see things play out in a certain way.

I don’t care. I still have to try.
As long as I still breathed, I would not give up. Not on my family. Not on King. As soon as the caravan stopped, I would break free and make my way back to him. I needed to make sure he knew about the Artifact, that there was a way to break his curse.

It felt like six hours had passed before the caravan halted to allow the men to rest. They built small fires and brought out what I assumed was their wine. They didn’t offer any of us “chattels” water or food, and needless to say, there were no bathrooms. That meant when you had to go, you went over the side of the cart if you could manage it. The conditions were horrible, despicable, and beyond imaginable.

I’d seriously had enough.

“Hey!” I screamed at the group of six soldiers gathered around the fire closest to me. “Are you assholes seriously going to sit there? Give these people some water. Let us stretch our legs.”

They didn’t bother to turn their heads in my direction.

“Helloooo. I’m talking to you.” They continued eating and drinking.

“You’re all a bunch of disgusting, immoral pigs. I just want you to know that. Seriously, I’ve met piles of horse shit with more attractive qualities. Although, I admit you all smell just as lovely. Haven’t you heard of a bath?”

I heard the other women in the cart snicker under their breath.

One of the men, a lean tall guy with brown hair and a long beard, stood slowly and approached. I expected him to tell me to shut the hell up, but that’s not what happened. He simply stood there and looked me over, his expression cool and calculating.

“I need to stretch my legs,” I said.

“You have an odd speech for a slave.”

I realized just then that Hagne’s tattoo had been translating for me all along. These people spoke ancient Greek.

I lifted my brows. “Whooptie-fucking-doo. I need to stretch. Unchain me.”

He shook his head. “I am not a fool. You will run, and I cannot risk it. You are worth too much money.”

“To whom?”

His lustful eyes washed over me. “Anyone with a cock.” He then adjusted himself.

Afraid he might start getting some ideas of his own, I blurted out, “I don’t think Draco will appreciate my being taken against my will to become your whore.”

“Draco? The Lawgiver?”

I nodded. “I am his…” I didn’t know what, so I had to be creative. “I’m a friend.”

The man crossed his arms. “Then how did you end up here?”

“Two of his men took me to that market and sold me to pay off their debts. Trust me; Draco has no clue.”

His eyes washed over me. “I think you are lying.”

“Why would I lie when you can take me to him and find out the truth?”

“Very well, if you are telling the truth…” He called for one of the other men, who came running. “Remove her from the cart.”

“Are you letting me go?” I asked while the second man unchained me.

“No. We are going to kill you.”

What the hell?
“I don’t understand.”

“Draco may be appointed by the gods, but he is also cursed; if he has touched you, no one will allow you to serve in their homes, let alone want to bed you. You are worthless now.”

In other words, I was King’s tainted sex-goods.

The second man pulled me from the cart by the arm. With my legs half-asleep, I landed with a thump in the dirt.

As he reached down to pick me up, I kicked him in the stomach, and he stumbled back. The first man dragged me by the arms to the fire. I was about half his size, so fighting was about as helpful as singing.

I felt the cold blade of his knife against my throat, and instinctively, I screamed, “Wait! I’ll buy my own freedom.”

They laughed. “With what?”

“My bracelet. The one I’m wearing right here.” I held up my right arm, but was really thinking of a way out. Maybe another curse? Did I have it in me?

“Cheap metal.” The leader nodded at the man who held me. “Kill her.”

“The punishment for murdering a slave is death,” said a deep, dark, and familiar voice I knew like the sound of my own breath.

The leader froze and then dropped to a groveling position in the dirt. “Sir, I meant no disrespect.”

“Stand up, Mia.” I lifted my head and saw King’s magnificent, imposing frame standing in front of me, his hand extended.

As I reached, those black eyes flickered to blue for a split second. I had to wonder if I’d imagined it.

“What are you doing here?” I asked, grateful as hell.

King shook his head. “I don’t know. I felt a pull and then…” His eyes darted to the heads of the men who had their faces buried in the dirt. “We shall speak of this later. Right now, I must punish them.”

I swallowed, wanting to ask what that meant, but before I uttered a word, King smiled and red light burst from his body. The men keeled over, one by one. I resisted screaming, but the other slaves did not.

As more soldiers showed up to investigate, King merely continued gazing into my eyes, and I felt his torment. And his blinding power. Not one man made it within five feet of us before falling to his instant death.

This is real, isn’t it? I’m not dreaming…

Surrounded by a pile of bodies, he drew a deep breath and then gazed up at the starry sky. “No. You are not dreaming. Which is why you should run now, Mia.”

He could hear my thoughts again.

“Why should I run?”

“Because after this moment, I will not be letting you go free, and I know not what I will do to you.”

That was when I realized it didn’t matter what he was or what he said; I was not leaving him. I would rather spend a lifetime trying to fix what I’d done to King than let him suffer like this. It was an odd realization knowing that you can accept someone, the entire someone, and love them unconditionally. Curse and all. I couldn’t undo my love. I could only use it to do everything within my power to make things right.