Mack (King #4) (12 page)

But it wouldn’t.

Cleopatra’s ankh brought me back a few days later, and I clawed my way out of a mass grave, stole a boat, and headed north. I was beyond psychotic—something that wouldn’t change for the next several hundred years.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

TEDDI

I wanted to judge Mack for the crimes he’d committed. I wanted to wish him to hell and make sure he stayed there. But the fact that he truly hadn’t been in control steered my heart in another direction: pity.

To be frank, I wasn’t a religious person. Not because I didn’t want to be, but because my analytical mind had never been able to subscribe to anything without proof. But if there was a god, she had abandoned this poor man long ago and left him to rot. It wasn’t fair. I could see the torment in his eyes, hear the guilt in every syllable spoken from his mouth, feel the despair leeching into the air around him. If there was a god, why punish him like this? Because he’d killed his brother? Mack had done it, thinking he might save their people. For screwing me without my father’s permission? Mack said he’d loved me. For becoming cursed with my father’s pain or being resurrected by his brother? Or because he wasn’t strong enough to resist their will?

This man didn’t choose. He was forced into every action. Yet he took the blame for all of it.

“Your guilt, Mack, is a sign that you are
not
evil,” I said.

As he stared at the crackling fire, I could tell his mind was off in some other world, reliving his sins.

“Mack,” I snapped, bringing him back, “you need to listen to me. You are not responsible for whatever you’ve done.”

He speared me with his gaze. “You don’t get it, do you? That doesn’t matter. Because at the end of the day, I am the one who has to live with the memories. I see their faces. I hear their cries. I relive their pain. What the fuck does guilt have to do with any of it? I just want it to stop.”

“If I’m this person you say I am, then we can figure out a way to end the curse. And I can help you with the memories, too, Mack. I can work with you like I do all my patients.”

“You still don’t remember me, do you?” he snapped.

“Don’t change the subject—”

“Answer me,” he demanded.

I didn’t see where he was going with this, but fine. “No. I don’t remember. But what does that matter?”

“It matters because you always remembered. Sometimes it took a while, but you did. And this time, I passed you on the street. We were two feet apart and you didn’t even look in my direction.”

“You mean before you checked into the center?”

“That was when I knew; even you had recognized that it was time to give up. On me. On us. It is time to move on. And that is why I approached you the way I did, without trying to reignite what we had or felt, Theodora. I just needed your instincts, your curse to kick in so you’d kill me. But this—us.” He toggled his finger between us. “This needs to end.”

“Well, I’m sorry, but you’re wrong. Dead wrong. I’m not
even
close to giving up, Mack. Not even a little.”

Slowly, the human warmth in his eyes faded. He bolted from the armchair and threw me down onto the floor.

“Don’t fucking argue with me, you bitch,” he growled, pinning me by the neck. “You did this to me. You fucking had to offer yourself, didn’t you, Óolal? And you knew all along what would happen.”

Clawing at his hands, I choked out the only words I thought would reach him. “Okay. You win,” I croaked. “I’ll kill you.”

Slowly, he released his grip around my neck, and the expression on his face turned to shock. “Fuck.” He scooped me up and pulled me into his broad chest. “Fuck, fuck, fuck. Are you all right?”

Panting and grateful for the ability to do so, I nodded frantically, my face pressed against his heaving chest. “I’m okay.” But now, more than ever, I was determined to save him. I didn’t want him to die. He deserved to find peace and live the life I’d robbed him of.

Slowly, Mack pulled back and stared into my eyes, the firelight dancing in his pupils. “Did you mean what you just said? You’ll do it?”

Oh God.
I didn’t want to lie to the man, but I had to. He had to see I was on his side. All I needed was to understand how to undo this horrible curse, and perhaps a part of me already knew. I just had to bring it to the surface.

More time. I need more time.

“I meant it,” I lied. “But I want something for it.”

Cradling me in his arms, Mack’s troubled gaze drifted to my lips, and though that wasn’t even close to what I’d planned to propose, I found myself sitting there thinking,
Yeah, that’ll work, too.
Heck, more time was more time, right?

He smiled in a consoling kind of way, the dark hair falling into his vivid blue eyes. “The first time I saw that same look in your eyes, you got me into a hell of a lot of trouble, woman.”

I couldn’t help it. I just couldn’t; my heart was racing all over the place and swooning like crazy. Yes, for a man who’d tried to strangle me only moments earlier. But now…God, that look on his face, so hypnotically seductive, so mind-numbingly raw and sweet and so…

Goddamn mine.
I slid one hand behind his neck and pulled his mouth to mine. Our lips collided with what felt like an electric spark that rippled through the air. Was this what people meant when they talked about love sometimes feeling like being hit by a bolt of lightning? Whatever the case, I couldn’t deny what I felt inside my soul, a need so deep I never wanted to let him go.

I poured myself into the kiss and savored the roughness of the masculine stubble surrounding two satiny lips.

Of course, kissing this man would feel like that: a sinful contrast. Rough and soft.

He languidly slid his lips over mine, as if also enjoying the texture, and then placed a gentle kiss on the corner of my mouth.

Ohmygod
. The sinful sweetness of that did me in. I’d been kissed before, but there’d never been any emotion in it for me. But the two of us, just breathing each other in, pressing our mouths softly together, spoke directly to my heart. The way he carefully kneaded his lips against mine and held me to him, as gentle as ever…So irresistible.

Perhaps he didn’t want to frighten me. Perhaps he was merely testing the waters, making sure that switch inside him wouldn’t flip. I didn’t know, but there was no way a man who took so much care to kiss me like this was evil. Wickedly seductive, yes. But not evil.

With my hand still threaded into the silky hair at the back of his neck, I pushed my mouth firmly to his and ran my tongue over his plump bottom lip, urging him to give me more.

And he did.

His gentleness subsided, and his eagerness exploded. His tongue slid between my lips and stroked and pushed and lapped against my mouth, as if desperate to get inside me.

Ohgod
. His smell and taste were so delicious. The feel of him, the heat of him, the shape of his powerful arms holding me to him. I could see why I wasn’t able to resist this man three thousand years ago. Everything about him was pure seduction.

The two of us kissing like wild hormone-riddled teenagers, he lowered me to the floor and stretched his long, hard body against the length of mine. The bearskin rug beneath us was warm and soft, just perfect for ripping off our clothes and going at it, but I could tell immediately that wasn’t Mack’s plan. He was trying to stay in control. I could also tell he was gifted in the lovemaking department, which was why a big part of me wanted him to let go. I’d waited my entire life to feel something like this and to feel it with Mack…there was nothing my body wanted more.

His warm hand slid underneath my shirt, and his fingertips teasingly stroked the soft skin just beneath my breasts, but he didn’t move to touch them.

This is torture. Delicious torture.
The way he pressed his body against mine, but wouldn’t allow me to feel his arousal. The way his mouth moved with mine in teasing, rough kisses. He was in control right now, control over me, and he liked it that way.

But I wanted more. I needed more.

I shifted my body at an angle and wrapped my leg around his hip, pulling him closer, inviting him to slide between my legs. I wanted to feel that hard cock locked away inside his jeans.

He denied my request by unwrapping my leg and then grabbing my wrists, pushing them into the rug, holding me in place. I responded by pushing my breasts into his chest and kissing him harder. He replied by sliding his mouth down my neck and sucking and licking the sensitive skin just above my collarbone.

Oh, God. He’s trying to drive me mad.
His short whiskers tickled deliciously while his mouth massaged and kneaded, helping me imagine what that tongue of his might be capable of if working on my hard nipples or throbbing c-spot.

A soft moan escaped my mouth. “What are you doing?” I whispered toward the ceiling, panting.

“Mmmm…” He slid his hand underneath my shirt again, and his nimble fingers worked down my bra just enough to make my breasts spill out over the top.

I gasped when his hand cupped the soft flesh. Every little thing he did felt amplified and exaggeratedly sensual. Was it because I’d never had real emotions before while being intimate? No, it was definitely this man.

“Was it like this our first time?” I whispered as he bathed my neck and the corners of my mouth in a flurry of kisses.

Suddenly, he stopped.

“What’s wrong?” I looked up at those stunning blue eyes peering at me from behind a curtain of shaggy black hair.

“You really want to know?” he said.

I nodded. “Yeah, I do.”

“Being with you ruined me for all other women. And it was the happiest moment of my life.”

I swallowed hard and tried to stop my eyes from tearing up, but it was useless.

“Why does that make you sad?” he asked, his voice low and deep.

“Because I can’t remember it.”

He smiled at me, brimming with cockiness. “Perhaps you need your memory jarred.”

Suddenly, all these feelings welled up deep inside my chest. If I had to take a stab at identifying what it was, I’d have to say love.

Yes, I loved him. Overwhelmingly, desperately, and deeply.

I just didn’t know what to do with that. I had no experience whatsoever with needing someone and wanting them as much as this.

Crap. I can’t do this.
I was in way over my head here.

Panic set in. I slid his hand off my chest and slowly sat up.

“I don’t blame you,” he said, misreading my actions. “I wouldn’t want to risk it with a madman either.”

I glanced down at him. He had his head propped up with one arm and was lying on his side. He looked so relaxed. So ruggedly sexy with his long, hard, lean frame stretched across the rug.

“It’s not that.” I wanted him more than I’d ever wanted anything.

“I hope you’re not going to leave me hanging.”

I got up and sat back on the sofa, leaning forward with my face in my hands. I didn’t want to tell him what was going through my head even though I doubted it would shock him. “I think we should just—”

“Now I insist you tell me.” I could hear the irritation in his voice. “Or is it that you’re too good to share your thoughts with someone you see as damaged. I’m still your patient in the back of your mind.”

“What? No,” I snapped, dropping my hands. “I mean, yes, I want to help you. But I don’t think I’m too good.” If anything, I felt the opposite. If I wasn’t able to cope with my feelings at this juncture, I certainly wasn’t going to fare any better if we were intimate. And now that I’d thought about it, I was probably incapable of pleasing him anyway. To me, sex had been little more than a physical activity I performed with my boyfriend because it was required to keep him happy. Of course, it hadn’t. He’d ended up fucking my best friend to supplement his needs.

“Then?” Mack asked.

I blew out a breath. “It’s not easy to explain.”

“You seem to have a gift for working through difficult conversations. I suggest you rely on that fancy PhD of yours.”

“I, uhhh…Well, before I met you, I had a condition.”

He sat up and twisted his body to face me, placing his back against the armchair. “Go on.”

“I wasn’t able to really feel anything. Not like I do now.”

He folded thick arms across his broad chest. “Feel how?”

I shrugged. “Emotions. I didn’t have any. It was like that part of me was broken. I mean, I understood when situations were good or bad, and I knew the appropriate reaction—to smile because someone did something nice for me, to laugh when someone told a joke, to stay serious when someone said something sad, but I never really felt anything. I was just…numb.” I looked over at Mack, and he had the most peculiar expression on his face, like he was trying to figure something out.

“And now?” he asked.

“The moment our eyes met, that door was kicked wide open. You fixed me.”

He pursed his lips and scratched his rough chin, producing a bristly sound I found oddly sensual.

“I don’t know. Maybe…” his voice trailed off, and he shook his head. “I really don’t have a fucking clue.”

“When you met me any of those other times, was I like that?”

“No. You were normal. I mean to say—you-normal, not normal-normal. You are, after all, extraordinarily unique and beautiful regardless of the body you inhabit. You’re also a Seer,” he added.

His comment made my toes tingle. I’d never felt adored before now. “Well, I really don’t feel like anything other than ill equipped to handle this entire situation.”

“Trust me, you are powerful. And you’re equipped to handle anything. Even me.” He flashed the sweetest smile I could ever hope to see on a man—wicked or not.

As I basked in the glow of that, the wheels started turning. Mia had said something about my having undiscovered gifts. The only thing I’d ever seen was that I had a very strong knack for diagnosing illnesses, not just in the psychology field either. I remember when I was five, my grandfather kept complaining of being tired. I told him his heart wasn’t giving him enough blood. I don’t know why I’d said that, other than it had somehow seemed obvious to me. My poor grandfather had a heart attack three days later. Luckily he survived and lived another ten years.