Naughty Karma

Chapter Twenty-Seven The Perils of Lying to an Oracle

“Now, about my power...”

The maenad laughed, a girlish ripple of flirtation and heat. “Aren’t we greedy, my pet?” The devil stopped laughing abruptly when he conjured a medallion into his hand. Her eyes gleamed with avarice. “Now, where did you get that?”

“Does it matter?”

“Not really.” She shook her head, laughing again. “Clever Prometheus. He always knows how to get what he wants, doesn’t he? But what if I don’t want your pretty medallion? What would you give me in order to keep your power then?”

“I have other relics. What is it you want? Name it.”

“I told you already.” The devil turned her head and he followed her gaze.

Karma stood frozen, mouth open as if in mid-shout as Prometheus and Deuma bartered in a moment stolen out of time. Rodriguez lay on the ground nearby, unconscious and bleeding from the head. Across the room, Brittany sprawled in an unnatural position at the base of a wall. But it was Karma he saw.

“She’s worth three of you,” Deuma purred. “Give her to me and you can keep your powers.”

He hesitated for only a moment. “It would have to be all of them. Forever. No more deadlines and renegotiations.”

“Oh, I love a man who barters.” Deuma giggled. “Are you sure you don’t want to come work for me? No? Fine, then. For that I’ll take the medallion too.”

“Done.” The word echoed like a gong, harsh with the finality of a deal struck.

Karma lurched upright in bed, a hard gasp shredding her throat. He’d sold her. He’d sold her just so he could keep his power. She flicked on the lamp, needing the comfort of light, the protection of it.

“Karma?” a dark voice asked groggily. “What did you see?”

Prometheus reached for her and she shied away from his hand, dragging the sheet with her to cover her nakedness. “You bastard.”

His sleepy gaze sharpened and shuttered. “I take it you saw me.”

“You gave me to her. You sold me to Deuma in exchange for your power.”

Eyes narrowed, he sat up in the bed. “And Ciara drowned and Brittany was killed in a car accident. None of it happened. Not all of your visions come true.” But his voice was too harsh, too defensive. God, he would really do it.

“The intent was there.” Clothes. She needed clothes. She struggled out of the bed, dragging the sheet with her and backing toward the closet. “Ciara didn’t want to drown, Brittany didn’t want to crash her car, but you wanted to trade me for your power. Not your life. Your precious, fucking power.”

“This is ridiculous.” He flung back the covers and stalked after her, naked and not giving a shit about it. “I couldn’t trade you to Deuma if I wanted to. I don’t own you.”

“That didn’t seem to make a difference.” She slammed the door to the closet, tugging on underwear, slacks and a stretchy knit top in record time. She’d wanted distance, but as soon as the door shut between them she wanted to yank it open again, the better to scream at him. He did not get to slink off without talking to her about this.

Dressed, she flung open the door and he was standing there, his arms braced on either side of the jamb, waiting for her. He’d pulled on his jeans, but hadn’t bothered with a shirt. “It was a dream.”

Karma shoved past him, ducking under his arm. “She said you already knew what you could give her to keep your power.” She spun to face him, arms akimbo. “Was that a dream too?”

He groaned and rubbed a hand down his face. “She said something about you that made me think she would be interested in a trade, but I haven’t done anything about it.”

“No? You haven’t told me about it either. Don’t you think I have the right to know if a demonspawn bitch wants my soul?”

“I’m not sure it was your soul she was after. She seemed mostly concerned with your natural power. Whoever your father was, he left quite a calling card.”

“Don’t you dare try to change the subject.”

“I’m not changing shit. You’re the one who is so fucking scared to look at who you really are that you’d rather bottle up your God-given talents and make yourself crazy than learn how to put them to some use.”

“So that makes it okay to sell me to the highest bidder?”

“You don’t want your power anyway!”

“That doesn’t give you the right to give it away!”

“I didn’t! Goddamn it, Karma, I may have done a lot of shady shit in my life, but I refuse to be tried and hanged for something I didn’t even do. It was a fucking dream.”

“They aren’t just dreams and you know it.”

“Yeah, well, they aren’t fucking infallible either. Maybe you didn’t hear what you thought you heard.”

“I heard plenty.” And it had rocked her to her foundation. She’d trusted him. She hadn’t realized exactly how much until that word, that deal, had shattered it all, leaving shards of broken trust lodged in her veins. What more had he been keeping from her? Who was he, really?

“I think you heard what you wanted to hear.”

“Oh, so it’s my fault? Can you honestly tell me that you would never make that deal? That you wouldn’t even consider it?”

He hesitated. The bastard actually hesitated.

“Oh fuck you.” Suddenly the charm he’d made her seemed to burn against her skin. She couldn’t get it off fast enough. The thong tangled in her hair.

“Karma…I wouldn’t leave you with her. If I was powerless, I wouldn’t be able to come for you—”

“Shut up.” She threw the charm and it hit him in the chest—which was a shame since she’d been aiming for his face. How could she have been so stupid? “What was on that? Some kind of gullibility mojo?”

“No. The charm is clean—just a few extra focus and protection wards.”

There was enough hesitation in the denial to make her snarl, “Oh God, what?”

He grimaced. “The vodka.”

“You spiked the vodka. Of course you did. Because getting me drunk wasn’t good enough.”

“I only added a few little spells to make you relax and trust me. And I drank it too. I made myself just as vulnerable as you were.”

She really had been a prize idiot. He’d been playing her from the word go and she’d known that, but she’d let herself forget it. She’d been totally sucked in. She’d started to actually care for him and the entire time he’d been conning her, stringing her along in an attempt to keep his superhuman powers. She’d been so sure they were more than that, but he hadn’t changed at all.

She’d actually started to think she was falling in love with him. Last night she’d almost said the words without even meaning to. But all along she’d been falling for a man who’d only ever cared about himself. And she’d known that. She’d been so acutely conscious of his faults. But he’d been so honest about who he was; somehow his sincerity about being a liar had allowed him to slip right past her defenses and into her heart—where the bastard had no business being.

“Karma.”

His voice was soft, but she clung to her anger, because if she let it go, she knew the tears would come and Karma Cox didn’t cry. “Take your heart,” she snapped.

“Karma, we can talk about this. Don’t be rash—”

“I thought you liked rash.” He opened his mouth and she held up a hand to stop him. “Never mind. I don’t want to hear another word from you. I’m not reneging on our deal. Though it would serve you right if I did.” Still, she found she couldn’t—and not because of the binding he’d placed on her that first night at his shop. She didn’t want him dead. Even though she probably ought to be ready to dance on his grave, her stomach still roiled at the thought of anything happening to the asshole. “Rodriguez will summon this devil bitch and I will be on hand to make sure you don’t try to hijack my exorcist’s soul, but beyond that, we’re done. Carry your heart upstairs and wait up there. I can’t look at you right now.”

She half-expected pleading, but his expression closed down tight, anger and something darker and much more sinister taking up residence in his eyes. “Fine. We were about done anyway, weren’t we?”

Her heart stuttered. He wasn’t talking about the argument or their deal. It was them, the idea of any sort of a relationship between them. We were about done anyway…

He grabbed the crate without another word and disappeared up the elevator, taking his heart and leaving her alone in the suddenly echoingly empty expanse of her apartment.

She slumped against the couch, pressing a fist to her abdomen. Why did it burn like this? Why was it so hard to think past the massive sense of betrayal hazing her thoughts? What had changed really? She’d known they wouldn’t last. So why did hearing him say it feel like swallowing acid?

Karma closed her eyes and went through her mental exercises, needing them for the first time in a week. When she had her center again, she straightened and smoothed her clothing. It would all be over in a few hours. If she could get through this, she wouldn’t look back.

Her early-warning instincts twitched—Rodriguez would be here in a few minutes. Not long now.

She was Unshakable Karma. It would take more than one unethical warlock to break her. Head held high, she strode to the elevator. Business as usual. Nothing more. And when business was over, she could let that hollow ache in her gut expand to consume her if she wanted, but not now. Now she was the ice queen again and nothing could touch her. Not even him.