King’s head whipped in my direction. “Don’t. You. Say. A fucking word, Seer. Or so help me I will disembowel you. Are we clear?”
I nodded stiffly. “I’ll do my best to make Mia understand.” I slid my hand over his and gave it a squeeze. I think that was the moment that I realized that hate and revenge were like unwelcome viruses in my soul. I was built to forgive and heal. And now, more than ever, I wanted to make King’s pain dissolve but couldn’t. And it was a strange, strange thing wanting to help this man. He’d been my nemesis for an eternity. Now I felt protective of him like a big sister. “I’ll do everything I can to make things right. I promise.”
~~~
Six hours later, around nine in the morning, King and I were back at his San Francisco palace, making preparations to resurrect Mack. And once again, I had to keep my head from exploding. It had been a week—yes, only one week—since I’d first laid eyes on Mack. My entire life changed in that moment. I changed in that moment. And I guessed that was only the tip of the iceberg. Because, yes, I had regained the part of myself that felt connected to this world, but I still couldn’t remember my past. I suspected that once I fixed that, it would open up yet another whole new world for me—how to control my gift, the feelings that I had for those I loved in my past lives, the lessons I’d learned along the way.
But for now, I had to take stock of the vast metamorphosis I’d undergone in just seven little days. No light, no love, no passion in my life to now…Performing resurrection rituals to bring back the love of my existence. I almost laughed. Almost. Nope, not one bit of logic or the old Teddi in this room.
According to an ancient text King’d procured “many dark lifetimes ago” he’d said, there were specific steps that had to be followed to open the fissure between worlds and beckon a soul to return. Once the soul arrived, somehow a body…appeared. Or something. That was where his plan became a bit—okay, really, really vague.
“Sooo…” I said, pacing back and forth in King’s living room, the same living room that had been filled with 10 Club members yesterday evening and had been cleaned spotless. Probably by one of King’s people possessions. “You are going to bring Mack back and put him into his old body?”
“Maybe,” he said, completely absorbed in is preparation of the five-foot-wide, witchy-looking circle he’d drawn with blood in the center of his hardwood floor—an outrageous cliché. He’d finally removed his bow tie and had rolled up his sleeves to avoid getting messy, but there were smatters of blood and some ashy stuff smudged on his face and shirt.
“I’m going to take that to mean you’re not sure,” I said.
Kneeling, he adjusted the small silver chalice so that these little arrow-like symbols on the sides lined up with markers on the circle. “Maybe.”
I lifted both brows. “Really? You’re going to wing it?”
His head of dark shiny hair whipped up, and his cobalt eyes burrowed into me. “Have a better idea, Dr. Valentine?”
I mashed my lips together. “Nope.”
“Then please be quiet. I’m trying to concentrate.”
“Fine. Okay.” I blew out a long breath, hoping this would work. After all that we’d been through, this would be the end of a very, very long journey for Mack, myself, and for King. No more curses. No more killing. Just living and being happy. I only hoped I could help Mia overcome King’s very disturbing infidelity. Basically, he’d been…ugh…forced to choose between not only Mack, but Mia and his child too.
Dear God, what does Talia have hanging over this man?
Whatever it was, getting Mia’s heart to heal wouldn’t be easy. She’ll be hurt regardless.
“Not helping, Theodora.” King twisted the small silver cup a little to the right.
“Sorry.” But you really should stay out of my head.
“Not likely—I’ve been doing it for so long, it’s almost involuntary.” He got to his feet and stared down at his handiwork. “The wait is over. If I’ve done this correctly, Mack will appear as soon as we place an article of his inside the chalice.” King took a silver necklace with an Egyptian ankh from his pocket and placed it inside the cup. That had to be the necklace Mack told me about. I guessed King had tracked it down—probably not too difficult for a man like him if he truly was as good at finding things as Mia had said.
“I am better than good,” King said, correcting my thoughts. “And now for the blood of an innocent baby.”
I gasped. “What?”
“Relax.” He frowned. “I called in a favor and procured some from a stillborn.”
My mouth turned down at its corners. “What is wrong with you people?”
“Do you prefer we take the blood from a living, healthy infant?”
Wincing, I said, “No. But…”
“But nothing. The infant’s life will serve a greater purpose, and no harm came to him on our account.”