Authors: Mimi Jean Pamfiloff
What was she doing here?
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
MACK
How the hell did Miranda find us?
Yes, I knew she was cunning and had an arsenal of powerful relics that rivaled that of my brother’s, but she was the last person I expected to see. Not that I didn’t think she’d be looking for me. That was no surprise. I’d only had one chalice but had needed two favors: locating Theodora (to free my soul from the curse) and having the ankh removed (so I couldn’t come back to life).
I’d bartered with Miranda to have the ankh removed, and she’d had to call in several other favors from members of the 10 Club to get it done. Talia, another member, helped me find Theodora by loaning me her tracker—a woman with psychic abilities. Yes, Talia owned a woman. Many members of the 10 Club owned people.
And just who was this 10 Club? Take the most powerful, wealthy individuals on earth—oil sheiks, billionaire CEOs, presidents of major countries, and good old-fashioned aristocrats—pluck out all the sadistic fuckers with fetishes, psychotic personalities, and insatiable greed, and put them in a club where they pooled their resources to form alliances that made them impermeable to any law or government. Of course, many of them
are
the government—the Club helped put them there. Membership could get you just about anything, although currency was rarely their currency. Amongst themselves, they bartered for everything from people and weapons to items that fell into more of the occult category. Basically, anything that money couldn’t buy.
How did I know so much?
King formed the network thousands of years ago, operating it from behind the scenes, as a means to help him find the Artifact—that stone he needed to come back to life. In the meantime, while he looked, he built his own arsenal and network of power. Of course, now my brother had everything he wanted, including possession of his soul and a body, and he was no longer a sadistic sonofabitch. He was also burdened with trying to figure out how to undo the 10 Club monster he’d created.
I was the cornerstone of his plan.
How?
You guessed it. Killing off the members. No, I didn’t feel sorry for them. Those people had plenty of blood on their hands and cared for no one. The previous president, a guy named Vaughn, used to barter for women. Exotic women. He would then charge admission to let people watch him peel the skin from their bodies. Sometimes he took the skins and wrapped them around his dead lover’s body so he could play with her. Yes, like I said, they were all sick fuckers. Every last one of them. And I would gladly kill them if it weren’t for one simple fact: I needed out. Okay, that and I was just as dangerous as they were. But not as sick. Not even close.
In any case, Miranda was acting president of 10 Club and completely unaware that my brother ran the operations. Most members simply accepted that the person who managed the funds and legalities—including ensuring members never went to prison or were hassled by authorities for their sometimes very illegal activities such as murder, enslavement, and kidnapping—maintained anonymity because he didn’t want to become a target. The members were constantly stabbing each other in the back and stealing from one another.
Case in point, I’d given Miranda a fake chalice, and she was now here to collect. With my life.
I sighed. “Miranda, I thought you’d be busy picking fleas from your hair or strangling kittens.”
“Mack, who is she?” Theodora asked.
“I’m the bitch who’s going to kill him for double-crossing me!” Miranda threw the silver chalice at my head, which I blocked with my hand.
“Where the fuck is the real one, Mack?” Miranda snarled.
“I wish I knew,” I lied.
“I’ll give you three seconds to give me another answer, or the little bitch loses her head.”
I stood from the floor, careful to keep myself positioned between Miranda and Theodora. Life held no value for Miranda, except for the pleasure she derived from taking it. I knew because she used to own me. Almost five long years in her basement. She’d kill me, let me come back, torture me and kill me again. She couldn’t get enough. Some days, she’d play out her sexual fantasies before she killed me.
She was evil to the core.
“Well, Miranda, I think we both know how this is going to play out.” I was going to do everything in my power to kill her. She would use one of her abilities to subdue me. I would end up dead and she without her answer. Yes, we’d done this dance before when I’d lived in her basement and she wanted information about my brother. But I never talked.
She smiled and flipped her frizzy long blonde hair back over her shoulder. I always wondered why she looked so vile—right down to the animal-print spandex pants and stick figure body. A woman had to work extremely hard to look that bad.
“Yes,” she said. “You’re going to tell me where the chalice is; then I’m going to slit your throat.”
No. What would really happen was she’d try to kill Theodora and me.
Dammit.
I needed to get Theodora out of here. Of course, that meant Miranda might kill me and my soul would be left wandering the earth, still cursed.
Sonofabitch.
Why couldn’t I catch a break?
~~~
TEDDI
The woman—who I recognized from the mental health center—stood in the doorway of the cabin with her bleach blonde hair teased out into a wild mess of straw, tight pink leopard Spandex pants, and a gold sequin tank top. What struck me as odd, however, was how I felt about her. I wanted to end her life in the most violent of ways.
Why? How the hell should I know! Because, apparently, someone had done a number on me and made me forget my past. Only, some part of me remembered the emotional impressions I had of people. I loved Mack. I was afraid of King. And I hated this bitch. Seriously fucking hated her.
“Love the outfit, lady. Hope you win,” I said.
She gave me a look and then brought her attention back to Mack. “Who’s the little slut, Mack?”
Mack slid on his jeans, completely unashamed of letting this woman see him naked and looking cool as ice. “Someone I picked up to pass the time.”
“Bullshit,” she replied. “I’m getting a vibe off of her. What’s she do?”
Mack shook his head. “She’s not for sale, Miranda.”
Sale. What the fuck?
She shrugged. “Fine. Then maybe I’ll just take her.”
Mack growled. “How about this? I’ll tell you where the real chalice is if you let her leave.”
“Do I still get to kill you?” Miranda asked.
“Sure,” he replied.
“Mack, no!” I protested. What was he doing? Because according to him, I was the only one who could end his life. Meaning, if this woman did it, he’d end up some tormented, disembodied cursed soul again.
Mack glanced over his shoulder at me. “Go. I’ll be fine. Miranda is within her rights since I conned her.”
“I’m not leaving, Mack.” In fact, my brain had already located a weapon and had figured out a plan of attack. There was a small knife on the counter next to my car keys. I would grab them both, slide by this woman and take her out.
Jesus. Who the hell am I?
Because apparently, I was no stranger to killing. Double-O-Teddi.
“I’m not asking,” Mack said.
I dropped the blanket I’d been holding around my naked body and then threw on my dark sweater and jeans, acting severely pissy about it. I walked over to the small counter, angling my body so that the woman wouldn’t see my move. I gripped the knife in my right hand with my keys, holding the blade pressed flat along the inside of my wrist to conceal it as best as possible. “Mack, I really think you should—”
“Just go!” he yelled.
“Fine. I got what I wanted anyway.” I shot him one last look for effect and slid past him. The woman was just to the right of the door and only a few feet away. She wasn’t threatened by me because she didn’t move an inch as I approached.
Lucky me.
Right as I got to her side, I made my move, swiping sideways for her neck. But faster than my eye could register, she moved out of the way just as Mack lunged. The knife hit Mack right in his neck.
I screamed.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
TEDDI
The blonde woman laughed hysterically as Mack stumbled and fell over, cupping his hand over the wound. The blood didn’t just dribble, it flowed like an open spigot.
“Mack!” I dropped the knife and jumped to his side, kneeling beside him. “Oh, God. What did I do?”
“I bet right about now, he’s wishing he hadn’t taken off that necklace,” the woman chuckled out her words. I ignored her. All I could see were colors all around Mack, black and blues, and they were fading fast. “No, no, no.” I pushed my hands over his jugular, but it was no use.
Mack just lay there, his blue, blue eyes staring at the ceiling. “It’s finally happening,” he whispered. “You kept your promise. Thank you.”
“No. I was lying! I’m not ready to let you go!” I said. “I can change things for you.” If I’d just had more time.
“I’m not worth helping, Theodora. But I love you. I always have and I always will.” He gasped for air. “Tell King…” His voice dropped so low I could barely hear him. It sounded like he’d said he wanted to be warm or put somewhere warm or…
Fuck! This can’t be happening!
“I love you, too! I love you, too! Don’t go.” The life faded from his eyes right before mine. “No. No. No, Mack,” I yelled. “I won’t let you leave me.” But he was already gone. Just like that. And I felt a part of my soul go with him. How could this have happened? How could I have done this horrible thing to this beautiful man just as King said I would?
I sobbed over his body, wishing I could somehow turn back the clock or use these “gifts” I supposedly had.
“What a shithead,” the woman behind me said. “Now I’m going to have to find the chalice the hard way. As for you, little girl, I don’t take kindly to attempts on my life.”
I grabbed the knife from the floor beside me and, in one fluid motion, threw it at her. The tip lodged into her right eye, and she dropped to the floor like a bag of wet sand. Where and how had I come up with such a skill? I didn’t know and I didn’t care.
I turned back to Mack and watched in despair as his features faded back to the man I’d first met—dirty blond hair, light golden skin, honey brown stubble. Meaning, the Mack I’d first met, the man I’d fallen in love with so long ago, his soul was gone from this body.
“No,” I heard a deep voice gasp from the doorway. I glanced over my shoulder, and King just stood there staring at his dead brother in disbelief. Mia instantly had tears falling down her cheeks.
“You fucking bitch!” King roared at me. “I should’ve killed you when I had the chance.” He stepped toward me, but Mia pulled him back.
“King, no.”
He turned his rage toward her, shaking his finger in her face. “This is your fault. I shouldn’t have listened to you.”
I saw the wounded look in her eyes.
“It was an accident,” I muttered, wiping away the stream of tears in my eyes. “I was taking a swipe at that woman, but Mack rushed in and…” I couldn’t finish my words.
“Do you really think it fucking matters?” King growled, looking like a savage predator despite his finely tailored black suit. “I can’t bring him back this time!”
He began reaching for me, and once again Mia interceded. “You can’t kill her, King. Mack wouldn’t have wanted it and neither do I.”
He looked at her, and all I could see was a red light glowing all around him. Rage, I thought. It was the color of rage.
“Just…” Mia blew out a breath. “Just take a minute outside, King. Please.”
He shook his head from side to side, a look of sheer madness in his eyes. It broke my heart to see him in so much pain for something I’d done, but it broke my heart more to see the lifeless body stretched out in front of me.
“Mack, I don’t know if you can hear me, but I’m begging; please don’t leave.” Yes, I was speaking to his spirit. No, I knew nothing about how it all worked, but I hoped that he would choose not to go wherever souls went after they were freed from obscenely unjust and torturous three-thousand-year-old curses.
I felt Mia’s warm hand on my shoulder as she kneeled down next to me.
“It all just happened so fast,” I said, sobbing quietly. “I was trying to save him. I really was.”
“I know, sweetie.”
She took Mack’s hand and held it between hers, closing her eyes as if praying. After a few moments, she reopened her big blues. “I can’t feel any connection to him.” She sounded very worried.
“What does that mean?” I asked.
She looked down at his beautiful, lifeless face. “That the chances of getting him back are not good. Once the soul’s moved on, it’s like trying to capture water with a sieve.”
“Oh God, no.”
“That’s why King has been looking for that Incan chalice—it can resurrect anyone, even if the soul has moved on.”
I looked at her through my blurry teary eyes. “You
were
looking for it.” Mack had mentioned that he’d stolen something from them and that was the reason “they” were trying to find him.
“King was looking for it and Mack was helping him. I lost my brother last year and hoped to get him back, but now I wonder if it just wasn’t meant to be. He had issues. But Mack…” She sighed and ran her hand down the side of his cheek, staring lovingly at his pale face. “Mack saved my life. He helped King find himself again, and as much as I love my brother, Mack risked a lot to help us. I just don’t know what we’ll do without him.”
It was all too fresh in my mind and heart. Hell, the body was still warm.
“Aren’t you a Seer?” I asked. “Don’t you have powers or something? You can bring him back!”
She shook her head. “I gave up my gifts to be with King—a long story, but everything in our world requires a sacrifice. A counterbalance or a trade-off. I traded my abilities for the thing I loved most.” She looked at me with pity. “Our only chance is finding that chalice.”
“How the hell do we do that?” I asked.
She glanced toward the open door leading outside. “I married the man who can find anything.”