King Tomb (Forever Evermore) Read online

  He slid farther down the cushions, getting more comfortable. “And it would be?”

  “Eh.” I tilted my head back and forth, the room also tilting with the motion so I did it a few more times, enthralled by the view. “Some have called me,” a few more head tilts, “Red.”

  He took a long pull from the blunt. Was blessedly quiet for a good minute. His head slanted on the couch. Finally blowing the smoke out, he sounded bored as he said, “Where are you from, Red?”

  I tilted my head back to the ceiling, staring at the sparkles, which looked pretty fucking cool right now. “Huh?”

  He grunted, his head tilting my way and I saw the blunt in front of my face again. “You’re originally from some place, aren’t you?”

  “Ah.” I took the blunt, squinting at the ceiling to try to remember where I had originally grown up. “That would be,” oh, yes, “my mother’s womb.” Damn fine truthful answer.

  He hummed, watching me take a drag. “Interesting…and after?”

  I pointed the blunt at him, eyes still on the ceiling. “Your silence was much better than the twenty questions, but I’ll be a dear and play this game a bit longer.” A deep inhale since I was way past the coughing stage. “After the womb, I lived in an apartment.” I nodded heavily on the couch once, enjoying my own wit.

  He refilled my glass and his, apparently finally giving up on questioning me. He became mute again as we drank and smoked. Another half-hour went by, and when he teetered grinding out our second blunt, he sluggishly stood, folded his papers, and walked — a little crookedly from my perspective — to one of his dressers, placing the papers inside the top drawer. I yawned, drinking down the last of my whiskey. The sounds outside had faded a bit, and though I wasn’t really sure how long it had been since they had ebbed, I decided it was probably time to go.

  I stood.

  And promptly fell hard onto my ass back on the couch.

  “Ugh.” I rubbed my head, seeing him leaning heavily against his dresser, arms crossed with an eyebrow raised. “Are you sure that was only weed in those blunts?”

  His head cocked. “I never said it was only weed.”

  I actually chuckled, because he was right. I had only assumed. The sound was gravelly from disuse, but a chuckle was what it was. “Huh.” I stared at where the tiny bits of the blunts remained. “They actually helped.” I had essentially found…humor...and I didn’t mind it so much. He was watching me awfully hard, probably worried I was going to puke all over the place, but I pointed a decently straight finger at him, saying, “You never told me your name.”

  He was quiet for a few long moments, then he said, “No. I didn’t.”

  I waved a wobbly hand. “Well, that’s not fair.” Yep, I was stoned and drunk. On the plus side, I wasn’t seeing two of him. He was a bit blurry, but there was only one man staring at me.

  Gradually, his lips lifted into a very small smile — like my chuckle, it looked like he hadn’t done it in a while. “Fascinating logic.” He shrugged when I stared this time. “You never told me your real name.” A quiet hum, his head tilted. “I believe you said ‘some people call me’, not ‘my name is’, even if you hadn’t used a nickname.”

  I blinked. “You’re a quick one, aren’t you?” I waggled my finger at him. “Damn quick.”

  His gaze roved over my face. “Can you even stand?”

  My lips pinched. “Of course I can.”

  He lifted an eyebrow, his eyes still as dead as mine, but intense in their assessment.

  Challenge given.

  Rolling my shoulders, I placed a hand on the arm of the couch and pushed so I was standing. I blinked, staying on my feet this time, but I muttered, “Well, shit.”

  His head cocked. “What?”

  I pointed to the left and right about an inch apart. “There are two of you now.”

  Again, his lips slowly lifted into that lonely, tiny smile. “May I ask you something…Red?”

  I swayed, placing a bracing hand back on the couch. “You may ask.” Answering was optional.

  He rubbed his chin, staring at me with that tortured gaze. “What put that look in your eyes?”

  My eyes narrowed. “This is why I don’t make friends.” They wanted to share and shit. “I could ask you the same thing, but I’m not, so why go and ruin the mood?” When he only stayed silent, watching, waiting for my answer, my nostrils flared in irritation…but I enjoyed the fact I actually felt irritation. Though not anger or agony, the feeling was enough to placate me, as was he, since he had been the gateway to it through his drugs. I sat on the arm of the couch, sighing heavily, and told the truth, “What you see in my eyes is simply life staring you in the face.”

  He went mute, staring at me with an unreadable expression.

  I lifted my eyebrows at his silent countenance. “You asked. I answered.” I shrugged, staring at him pointedly. “And please, take notice how I’m not asking in kind. I’m not into group hugs and crying sessions.”

  “Neither am I.” He studied me, rubbing his chin again. “May I ask you something else?”

  “Is it another personal question?”

  His lips lifted, bitty smile showing. “Yes, but not in the way you’re thinking.”

  I shrugged. “You may ask.” Again, answering was optional.

  Green eyes met mine straight on. “Would you like to stay the night with me?”

  I blinked, my eyebrows rising. “I don’t even know your name.”

  His gaze roamed down my frame. “Nice try, but until you tell me yours, I don’t believe I’ll tell you mine.” His head tilted toward the bed. “Would you care to?”

  Feeling — actually feeling — halfway normal, I let my eyes wander over his impressive frame. I hadn’t had sex in a very long time, my last bed partner…well, I guess I couldn’t actually remember who my last bed partner was. But before that, it had been Finn at King Cave. Honestly, sex hadn’t even entered my mind. Not that I hadn’t had offers from kiss-asses, but I had only ever felt ice water in my veins — I wasn’t the least bit interested, just wanting everyone to stay the fuck back. And now, with drugs and alcohol coursing through my system, I was relaxed in a hazy, tranquil mist.

  And what I saw was enticing. “Sex between the damned?” I didn’t even need to see his stash of drugs, his eyes voicing loudly I was in like company. “Would it even be enjoyable?”

  He hummed quietly. “There’s only one way to find out.” Sinuously, his thermal shirt came off.

  And yeah, I stared at his striking muscles that rippled with the motion and set as he lowered his arms, hardening, revealing a God-worthy body. My eyes roamed over all of that smooth, mocha skin on display, only gradually lowering to stare at the eightpack he had, a thin line of black hair starting below his freaking-perfect belly button, disappearing under the waistband of his black army cargos. Gradually, my gaze lifted back to his wide lips. They were…yummy.

  But…

  “Thank you for the offer, but I don’t believe so.” There weren’t a whole lot of things I would ‘like’ to do, and sex wasn’t even on that short list. “But, I would love to lie down on your,” my finger waggled at the bed that was calling my name, “bed for a bit, if you wouldn’t mind.” A wee bit of shut-eye would be needed before I was capable of sneaking out of here.

  A slow blink. “You would rather…sleep?”

  I wobbled on the couch, enjoying watching him try to hide his surprise. “Yes.” Another finger waggle at the bed. “Would that be all right with you?”

  Another blink, then he nodded once. “That would be fine, but don’t even think about getting into my bed with your dirty shoes on.”

  A glance at my boots proved they were indeed dirty, along with the bottom of my coat, both carrying bits of dirt and grass. “I won’t.” I stood on shaky legs, attempting to undo the buttons on my coat as I moved past his table to his bed. “Thank you.”

  He grunted, ignoring me as he pulled his cell phone from his pocket, texting.

/>   The room tilted a little, which was nifty to watch, but it didn’t help my equilibrium. I placed a hand on his bed for support until I got my balance back, but I ended up crawling onto it, the action seeming safer than continuing to stand. Mechanically, I began undressing, placing my coat on the end of the bed and dropping my boots over the edge to the floor, attempting to keep the bed clean as he had asked. I debated for all of a second before I started taking off the guns and knives strapped to my body, then when I yanked at the black down comforter and felt how smooth and soft his blanket and sheets were I got rid of my pants and shirt, looking forward to snuggling down in the softness. When I was finally down to my gloves, bra, underwear, and socks, I heard him make a noise in his throat.

  I hadn’t chanced glancing at him yet, just trying to stay vertical long enough to get horizontal, but his noise sounded odd enough that I glanced his way. “What is it?”

  He wore a peculiar expression, which I could tell he was trying to hide, but eventually I saw his eyes dip to my breasts and hips and feet, then to my stash of weapons on the bed. “I wouldn’t expect someone who wore pink dancing bears on her lingerie and purple fuzzy socks that,” he stared at my feet, “hugged each of your tiny toes like a glove to have,” his eyes went to my weapons, “three guns and five knives.” His eyes met mine…and I stilled at the look of satisfied calculation there.

  And that’s when I saw a flash of something silver in his hand and he…blurred.

  Ah, shit.

  I pushed back on the bed with my hands and feet, too fucking wasted for this, attempting to get to my weapons. Wrong. I had been fucking wrong on many levels with this asshole. First, he was a fucking Vampire, not a Shifter. And second, he had got me stoned and drunk to take me down easier. This whole damn thing had been planned perfectly on his part.

  “Goddammit!” I screamed when he caught my ankles, yanking me back. I scrambled with my hands on the bed and barely managed to grab my coat before I felt— “Ow! Fuck!” He was hooking silver cuffs around my ankles, and a burning sensation quickly sizzled through my entire body, my powers gone. “Fuck, fuck, fuck. You fucking asshole!”

  Withering on the bed, I stuffed my hand into the pocket of my coat when he blurred back to his dresser, managing to hit Antonio’s number on speed dial. Thank fuck, he answered just as the Vampire flew back at me with more silver flashing, and I stated hurriedly, “King Shadow. Need help.” My phone was smacked away and my world spun as he flipped me onto my belly. Dizziness ruled my vision, even though I was sure I was not moving any longer — but my head felt like it had taken an unplanned ride on a merry-go-round on crack. I screamed when he yanked my arms behind my back and slapped the silver cuffs on my wrists, my whole body instantly drained and on fire at the same time. “You’re fucking dead, Vamp.”

  He jerked back a hand full of my hair. Coherent and lucid green eyes stared an inch from my face. “Shut the fuck up.” The next second a precisely placed massive fist hammered into the side of my face, and my world went black.

  Chapter Four

  I jerked awake, my body quaking. It felt like fire scalded my skin, even while an icy, burning prison kept my powers contained. Two vicious sensations I hoped to never feel again. My hands were now stretched above my head, trapped inside silver cuffs. My ankles were also still incased in silver cuffing, and my toes, still in my purple socks, barely touched the floor, giving me no added support. Another shudder racked my body, sweat misting on my skin as I gritted my teeth and lifted my head.

  A quick assessment showed I was underground in a holding room for interrogations, just like the one in my old camp underneath headquarters. The room was tiny and circular, the walls made purely of brown dirt. Only two golden sparks of Mage magic in front and behind me provided lighting. The air was chilly down here, but the sparks provided no added warmth for me, clad in only the bra and underwear the asshole Vampire had made fun of.

  And said asshole was sitting directly in front of me on a simple wooden chair, still shirtless, his long legs stretched out in front of him encased in his black cargos. Next to him sat a tiny wooden table with all kinds of silver and metal ‘fun items’ I enjoyed using myself during interrogation/torture sessions. Arms crossed, his head cocked, he lifted a black boot and shoved the side of my leg, making me grunt and grab at the chain holding my arms up, but it was silver too, so I quickly released it, bearing down as my wrists took all the pressure of my body swinging back and forth like a pendulum.

  His eyes tracked mine as I swung back and forth. “I’m going to ask you a series of questions.” He kicked my leg again as I started to slow. “And it will go immensely easier if you answer each question immediately.”

  I bared my teeth. “And…fuck you.” I wasn’t telling this asshole shit. Antonio would be here soon, which meant my fist would be through this guy’s handsome face shortly.

  He ignored me, standing to his feet. He perused his torture devices and settled on a simple, thin silver knife, which honestly, was also one of my favorites to draw out the pain when I knew someone was going to be particularly hard to crack. I would probably be flattered if I wasn’t already in agonizing torment.

  He moved closer, standing directly in front of me as my body quit swinging. Oddly, I almost smiled since his body radiated heat, warming me a bit…even if I knew he was going to bring the pain. “First question.” He placed the knife between my breasts, and I breathed in heavily through my nostrils from the silver’s direct contact with my flesh, the feeling like an open flame as he trailed the knife downward, over the center of my bra, between my ribs, to directly above my belly button. “What is your name?”

  “You comma Fuck.”

  Green eyes as dead as mine lifted from where they had followed the knife’s journey to its resting place. They met, and held, mine. Slowly, he pressed the tip of the knife into my flesh. I shakily breathed in once through my nose and out through my mouth as he continued pressing the six inch blade into my stomach, my muscles trembling. Again, he asked, “Your name?”

  Whispering harshly, I stated, “Now, you’ll have to add Miss to that Fuck You.”

  Knife deeply imbedded in my stomach, he twisted it sharply to the left.

  I jerked even as his other fist blurred, slamming into my stomach below the knife’s entry. Air exploded from my mouth as my body flew back, swinging with his hit’s impact. Unable to breathe, pain reverberating in pulses through my body, I did not give a shit when I swung back and he stopped my progress by grabbing my throat, holding tight as he ripped the knife free, placing it three inches lower on my abdomen, directly below my belly button.

  His voice was cold and without inflection. “Your name?”

  Eyes dipping, drugs and agony pulsing through my mind, I tilted my lips in a cruel smile, singing breathlessly, “Fuck, fuck…fuck you.”

  I was sliced again.

  And again.

  Again.

  The asshole managed to keep me coherent enough for me to be able to reply with my witty answers.

  A bit lost in my daydreaming of what I was going to do to him, I must not have heard him ask for my name again because he sliced into my thigh from behind. The pain was horrendous, and I choked on a silent scream, blood dripping down my body from multiple wounds that didn’t heal thanks to the silver cuffs. My head fell back onto his chest, and I didn’t bother moving it, not really thinking I could anyway.

  Unhurriedly, he ran the tip of his finger down the side of my face, very gently brushing the sweat-soaked hair off my cheek, an action that was the direct opposite to yanking out his blade from my vulnerable flesh. Softly, he whispered at my ear, “The punishment for a traitor is death.” He set the bloody blade against my throat. “And you don’t belong to this camp. I would suggest you hurry and tell me your name before you bleed to death.” The tip of his knife pierced the side of my throat. “Or I could just kill you now and be done with you.”

  I grunted, rasping, “Oh, Mr Asshole Vampire, you know you’re havin
g too much fun with me,” and I knew he was, “to off me so soon.” My head tilted so I was staring up at him, cheek against his hot, hard pec. I analyzed his face the best I could through the blurriness, memorizing each perfect line I was either going to break or crush, or envisioning a bit of both. “God, I’m going to enjoy hurting you just as much as you’re enjoying this.” My blue eyes met his green ones. “Maybe more since this hurts like a son of a bitch.” No need to lie and act tough, since this would hurt anyone.

  One eyebrow rose. “You won’t be hurting me unless you wish for death.”

  “Some days I do,” I murmured absently, caught on not only his words, but the way he had stated it as if it was fact-based. Then there was the fact that he knew with absolute certainty I wasn’t part of this camp. I wasn’t able to use my Shifter senses to tell if he was speaking the truth or not with his previous comment, so I asked slowly and maybe with a bit of a slur, “What is your name?” God, I hated hunches, and I was going to be pretty damn pissed off if after enduring this fucking shit I couldn’t have retribution on this asshole.

  His head cocked so he was looking at me a bit more straight on. “You do realize I’m the one asking the questions…and I’m the one with a knife to your throat.” It wasn’t really a question, so I didn’t answer. After a few moments of analyzing me while I blinked blurrily at him, he sighed heavily. “You really are going to pass out soon from blood loss.” He appeared annoyed by this, and I knew the feeling when someone continued to pass out while you were interrogating them, the bore of delaying entertainment. “I’ll tell you mine, but I’ll expect the same in return.”

  I was becoming agreeable to this since it was taking Antonio so long to find me, and I believed Mr Asshole Vampire’s assessment to be correct. I was damn close to passing out cold, my thoughts quickly becoming indistinct, which meant I needed to be released soon. I did not want to be unconscious while caught like this, or worse, become so incoherent I would risk flashing fang in an attempt to bite someone. So be it if my name got me down from here. “You have my word.”