“Crap.” There was so much evil in this room, it nearly sent me to my knees.
“Crap indeed,” said King.
The small quartet in the corner of the room ended the current ballad and started playing a light jazzy tune. I didn’t know the song, but it was lively and joyful, despite being slow. The polar opposite of the guests in the room.
King held out his hand. “Shall we dance?”
“Dance? With you?”
“Yes. The people here are very dangerous and not without their own gifts. I’m guessing there are at least five who’ve already realized you’re not simply a regular person. And unfortunately for you, Miss Valentine, you are unclaimed property.”
“That’s Dr. Valentine, and I am no one’s property.”
He laughed and dropped his hand. “Suit yourself, but you’re in our world now. And here, if you don’t belong to someone, you’re fair game.”
Disgusting. “Fine. If dancing with you will give me time to say my piece, then let’s do it.”
He dipped his head in a suave, gentlemanly way and then held out his hand and led me to the corner of the room where the band played. We faced each other and locked hands. The man was definitely at ease in his own skin, because he moved like smooth butter sliding down warm bread. Effortless.
“Nice moves,” I said with a hint of disdain.
“Thank you. Now, what is this proposal of yours, little Seer?”
I tightened my grip on his warm hand, wishing I could cause him a little pain. But even his palms felt powerful.
“Do you know what my gift is, King?”
“Yes. It’s annoying the hell out of me and killing my only living blood.”
I shook my head. Asshole. “I am a healer.”
There was a moment when he broke his icy fa?ade. He was surprised.
“You didn’t know that, did you?” I asked.
“What is your point?” he said, not answering my question.
“That you’re focusing on saving Mack’s physical form. But not his soul. He’s tormented, King. He wanted to die. He practically begged me to end his suffering because he can’t live with all of the things he’s done over his lifetime. And if you don’t believe me, then ask yourself why he had that necklace removed.”
King blinked and glanced over my shoulders. Ever the watchful eye.
“You can relate, can’t you?” I asked, but it wasn’t a question. “You were cursed, too. You probably have nightmares about all of the horrible things you’ve done.”
Hell, they coined the phrase “Draconian” in his honor.
“Again, little Seer, I ask you your point.”
“I can heal Mack. I can take away his pain so that when you bring him back, he won’t just be alive, he’ll be happy.”
He scoffed. “I think you’re exaggerating your gifts so that I won’t kill you.”
“I think you’re just looking for any excuse to kill me.”
“Perhaps,” he conceded.
Okay then. Could I prove it to him? In all honesty, I didn’t know how to use my gift, but I had to try.
I closed my eyes for a moment, swaying to the music, reaching with my mind somewhere inside me.
Nothing happened.
Try again. Try again. Mack was counting on me.
Then an image of Mack flashed in my head, and I began to feel the warm glow of white light swirling in a tightly packed ball. Was this what healed people? It had to be.
I struggled and pushed, thinking of Mack, visualizing that ball of light traveling down one arm and flowing through my hand, through the barrier of my skin, and absorbing into King’s hand. He suddenly froze and then so did I. I felt this strange rush of something going through me and into him, our souls connected. I wasn’t just healing him, I was acting as a conduit of sorts, transferring this…whatever it was…into him. Where the white healing light came from, I could only guess, but as I drew from it, I realized it wasn’t inside me. It was…well, crap. I didn’t know. On some other plane of existence, I guessed.
Several more moments passed, and then our connection was broken by someone tapping King on the shoulder.
We both pulled away from each other, shocked and mildly disoriented.
King and I swiveled our heads to find a medium height man in a tux, with brown hair and a small scar on his right cheek.
“May I cut in?” he asked with a wolfish smile.
King looked at me, looked at the man, and then looked at me again. He then did something extremely disturbing: He slid his hands around my waist and pulled me into his tall frame, almost protectively.
“The woman is mine,” he growled. “So fuck the hell off.”
The man’s smile dropped, and I saw a look of evil hate in his eyes. “Very well. How much do you want for her?”
“She’s not for sale.”
King was protecting me? Holy cow.
He went on, “I’m saving her for another trade. You don’t have anything I want.” King’s icy blue eyes flickered with a menacing vibe.
What in the world? These people were really fucked up.
The man dipped his head. “We’ll see about that.”