The King

Page 22

“Happy now?” he drawled.

“Not the word I would use.” iAm took a draw off the rim of his mug. “So to what do I owe this honor.”

Or kick in the nuts, as was the case.

s’Ex smiled a little—which was worse than his full-on grin. “So you and your brother have been busy.”

“You already said that.”

“I’ve paid you a couple of visits here. Nothing special—just a flyby or two. The pair of you haven’t been hanging here lately. Busy with the females?”

“Working.”

“Night and day, then. Wow … worried about money? Do you need a loan?”

“Not from you. I can’t afford the vig.”

“Too right.” Black eyes narrowed on his own. “So where are you.”

“Around. Here now, obviously.”

“I don’t think you live here anymore.”

“Then why are you sitting on something I own.”

“I’ll bet if I go in your room, the closet’s empty.”

“And I assume breaking and entering is part of your ‘flybys’—unless you’ve changed your style.”

s’Ex eased back and crossed his arms under his robes. “Now how rude would I be if I did something like get in here and sniff around. It would be unthinkable.”

“You’re saying you haven’t done that.” iAm rolled his eyes. “Really.”

“No. Or I could be lying. Kind of like you are about living here anymore.”

“Maybe you’ve just come while we’ve been out.”

“Okay, let’s look at tonight. Why are you in your coat? Why are the spoons on the counter clean? Oh, and that magazine? Last month’s. And yet it’s been open like you’ve been ‘reading’ it.” He even did the air quotes. “And one, already-opened bag of chips does not a full pantry make.”

Goddamn it. “Isn’t GQ contraband in the Territory?”

s’Ex smiled again. “Her Royal Highness likes to keep me happy. What can I say.”

Either that or the queen herself was scared of the guy.

iAm lowered his lids to half-mast. “Talk to me.”

“I thought I was. Or were we using sign language and I missed it?”

Except the enforcer got serious, frowning into his mug, going still.

And the longer the silence lasted, the stranger things got. s’Ex didn’t waste time, and he had no patience—ordinarily, the f**ker was as decisive as a chain saw.

iAm waited things out for two reasons: One, what other choice did he have. And two, he was used to that by now.

Thanks to Trez’s shit, he’d had a master class in nothing-I-can-do.

s’Ex’s eyes shifted back over. “The high priest is coming to tell you that Trez’s time is up. The queen wants what she’s been promised and the daughter is ready to receive him. Any delay from this point on is going to have measurable repercussions. So, no lie, if you’ve got any way of making your brother toe the line, do it. Now.”

“She’s going to get you to kill him, isn’t she,” iAm said grimly.

The enforcer shook his head. “Not yet. I’m going to start with your parents. Your mother first. Then your father. And it’s not going to be pretty.” The male’s stare never wavered. “I’ve been ordered to tie her up and shave her head first—then rape her and cut her so she bleeds out slow. Your father is going to watch it all and then what I do to him will be worse. If you honor them in any way, talk to your brother. Get him to the Territory. Make him do the right thing. She’s not going to stop until she gets him—and just so we’re clear, I will not hesitate to do my job.”

iAm braced his hands on the granite counter and leaned into his arms. The situation with their parents was … complicated, to use a Facebook term. But that didn’t mean he wanted them dead and/or desecrated.

As s’Ex got to his feet and slung his executioner’s hood over his shoulder, iAm heard himself say, “You didn’t touch your coffee.”

“You might have poisoned it.” The enforcer shrugged. “I don’t take chances with anybody—sorry.”

“Smart.” iAm measured the male. “But then, you’re a real professional.”

“And I have my reputation for a good reason, iAm.”

“I know.” He cursed under his breath. “I am well aware of your work.”

“Don’t pull my trigger. I didn’t have parents, and wish I had. I’m not looking forward to this.”

“Goddamn it, it’s not up to me.” iAm curled up two fists. “And I don’t know if Trez is going to care, to be honest. He hates them.”

s’Ex shook his head. “That’s not good news. For any of you.”

“Why the hell can’t she just get someone else.”

“Not a question I’d be asking if I were you.” s’Ex looked around the apartment. “Nice place, by the way. Just my style—and I’ve been enjoying the view while I’m here.”

iAm narrowed his eyes at the odd tone in that deep voice. Son of a bitch … “You get it, don’t you.”

“What? How someone would want out of the Territory. To be free to live their own life.” Abruptly, s’Ex’s face turned into a mask. “Don’t know what you’re talking about.”

The enforcer turned away and stalked back to the slider. As he moved, his robes wafted behind him, his body shifting with the grace of a predator.

“s’Ex.”

The male looked over his shoulder. “Yeah?”

iAm reached out and took the coffee he’d poured for his guest. Lifting it to his lips, he drank long and hard, finishing the shit on a oner even as it burned its way down to his gut.

As he put the empty mug back down, the enforcer bowed. “You have more honor than most, iAm. And that’s why I came to you. I actually like you—not that that’s going to help you much further than tonight.”

“I appreciate it.”

The enforcer looked around, as if he were storing the memories for later. “Back at the s’Hisbe, I’ll do what I can to delay things, but this is on you. Your brother may be the one with his neck in a noose—but you’re the guy who’s going to have to get him where he needs to go.”

“He’s not clean, you realize.”

“How so?”

“He’s been f**king humans. A lot of them.”

s’Ex threw his head back and laughed. “I should goddamn hope so. If I were on the outside, I would.”

“Bet your queen won’t feel like that.”

“She’s your ruler, too—and I wouldn’t play that card if I were you.” s’Ex pointed his forefinger across the distance. “She’ll put him through a cleanse, and if he survives that—which is not a foregone conclusion—he’ll never be the same. You need to shut your f**king mouth on his love life, trust me. Oh, and AnsLai doesn’t know I’ve come. Let’s keep this our little secret, shall we.”

After the enforcer went out and disappeared into thin air, iAm strode over and closed the door. Then he proceeded directly to the bar at the far end of the open space and poured himself a bourbon.

Looked like Trez’s get-out-of-jail-free card had a hole in it: His sex addiction was not going to be the turnoff they’d been hoping it would.

Great.

And if s’Ex hadn’t shown up here and told him to keep all that f**king on the QT? God only knew what would have happened.

He hadn’t even heard about cleansing, but he could guess.

One thing was sure: He never thought in a million years he’d ever owe that coldhearted executioner a solid. Then again, it looked like Trez wasn’t the only one balking at the restrictions of the Territory.

The question was … now what. And he had about ten minutes to figure the shit out before the high priest got here.

FIFTEEN

“I never expected to see you again. They said you’d left town.”

As St. Francis’s Chief of Neurology leaned into the computer screen, the guy seemed to be talking to himself. And sure enough, as Manny Manello didn’t answer him, he didn’t seem to care.

Beth stepped in a little closer to take a look herself—although, come on, it wasn’t as if the multiple views of her brother’s brain up on that monitor meant anything to her. Hopefully, however, this guy in the white coat with the impressive credentials came at things from a different angle.

The dim anteroom they were all squeezed into was like something out of a Star Trek episode, high-tech equipment whirring and blinking, the massive MRI machine in the chamber beyond kept separate by a thick plate-glass window. And actually, the neurologist, sitting in front of that banked console, was kind of like Lieutenant Sulu as he faced off at the computer screens, the keyboards, a telephone or two, another laptop.

“How long did this most recent seizure last?” the neurologist asked absently.

“About fifteen minutes,” Beth answered as John glanced over at her.

“Any numbness or tingling?”

When John shook his head, Beth said, “No. Nothing.”

John had come out of the hollow doughnut about ten minutes ago and changed from his hospital johnny back into his relatively innocuous-looking jeans and Giants T-shirt. The IV that had pumped contrast into his body was out of his arm, a little white Band-Aid in the place of its needle, and his shitkickers were back on.

He’d left his weapons at home.

Xhex, however, was fully loaded as she stood next to him, a black Nike baseball cap pulled down low over her eyes. Payne was the other backup, the fighter dressed in black and wearing the same kind of loose coat John’s wife was.

Beth did a retug of her own Bos Sox hat. It had been a while since anyone had seen her in the human world, and she didn’t know anyone in particular at the hospital—but there was no reason to layer on more complication to this trip.

Oh, God, please let this be okay, she thought as that doctor scrolled through all the images again.

Right behind him, not that the man was aware of it, Doc Jane was also peering over his shoulder at the black-and-white pictures—in full ghost mode.

The more eyes, the better.

“What do you see?” Manny demanded.

To his credit, the neurologist didn’t spin back around until he was good and ready—and he addressed John when he finally faced the crowd.

“There’s nothing abnormal in there that I can see.”

Cue the collective sigh of relief. And the first thing John did was grab Xhex’s tight body and haul her in close, the world obviously disappearing for them both.

As Beth watched them, she knew she should be focused on the good news. Instead, all she could think of was how she was not only alone while she waited to hear whether her brother had some kind of embolism or tumor or heaven only knew what horror in his brain—but there was a big-ass metaphorical pink elephant between her and her husband that was not going to go away anytime soon.

Pink. As in baby-girl color.

Or maybe not. Maybe it was pale blue.

“All of the brain structure is normal…”

The doctor launched into a whole lot of physician-speak that luckily meant something to Manny, given the nodding. But the lovebirds ignored all that, and their self-absorption was actually a beautiful thing to see.

At least until tears of relief mixed with tears of sadness, and everything went wavy for Beth.

Time to excuse herself.

Murmuring something about making a phone call, she ducked out into the hall. The imaging facility was isolated in the basement of one of the many St. Francis buildings, and outside of it, there was a whole lot of nothing going on: no patients in transport, no carts of supplies rolling by, no staff rushing around in soft-soled shoes.

Putting her head into her hands, she eased her butt against the wall and slid down to the floor. Thank God John seemed okay. So at least one part of her family was all right—

I need you to hear this and know that it’s the God’s honest. I will not service you in your needing. Ever …

Shit, she thought as she rubbed her eyes. Now she had to go back home and deal with all that.

A little while later, the group emerged from command central, and she shimmied to her feet, trying not to look anything other than relieved at John’s scan.

The neurologist was staring at a check in his hands and shaking his head. “Jesus Christ, Manello. Did you win the lottery?”

Kinda. Thanks to Darius’s investments, fifty grand to the neurology department as a donation was no BFD.

And to think, all the white coat had had to do was shove her brother into his pinging machine for about a half hour.

“I’m just grateful you got us in,” Manello murmured.

The doctor turned to John as he folded the check and put it in his pocket. “So, yeah, I still recommend the anti-seizure meds, but if you’re dead-set against them, the only thing I can tell you is, try to keep track of the whens and wheres. See if there’s a pattern—maybe there is, maybe there isn’t. And know that I’m here if you need me. Remember what I said, though—just because I can’t see anything doesn’t mean you’re out of the woods. The episodes are happening because there’s something wrong. Period.”

“Thanks, man.” Manello put out his hand. “You’re the best.”

The former colleagues clapped palms. “Anytime—and I mean that. And … you know, if you ever want to come back, they’d take you in a heartbeat. You’re missed here.”

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