Fated: Karma Series, Book Three (7 page)

“You’re scuffing the dash.”

I looked at my boots, where they were still sitting on the dash of the new
work
car Fate and I were sitting in. I thought they looked feminine yet assertive, with their modest heel and lace up front. They held my knives quite comfortably tucked into the side, too. When I wore leggings, sometimes a thigh holster was a little too Rambo for the look I was going for, even on an occasion such as this.

It had been a week since the truce and things hadn’t gotten any better. They hadn’t stayed the same either. They’d become progressively worse.

Fights were breaking out everywhere and businesses were becoming too scared to open their doors.

If one of the names from my list disappeared now, post truce, we needed to know. It would be the first signal that Malokin had broken his word and was recruiting again. They might not make it into my bucket, but they still made a list.

We’d been watching the apartment across the street for about an hour, waiting for one of the people I’d saved for Malokin to show up. This one had been a junkie who’d knocked off a jewelry store. The ones who were still human weren’t hard to locate. Flipping through possible suspect photos had led me to most. Not surprising that the majority of them had a criminal history.

It made my skin crawl that I’d ever been on his recruit list. It still didn’t make any sense. Had I been a saint? No. But I didn’t fit in with this gang.

Fate insisted on coming, and I didn’t mind having the backup even though I wasn’t doing anything risky other than criminal watching. Lately, simply leaving the house could be considered endangering your life.

“Your boots?” he asked, reminding me of their unwelcome position.

“Are quite comfortable where they are. If you hadn’t snuck off and picked this car without me, we wouldn’t have wood trim on the dashboard we needed to worry about, now would we? It would be aged and cracking plastic, as befitting a car for this type of job. I don’t believe I should have to be uncomfortable because of your poor choices.” I turned the dial down on the temperature-controlled seat.

His eyes shot to the control and then me. I was complaining but the amenities were quite nice, not that I’d admit it to him.

“You don’t look like you mind much. And it’s a used Audi. What would you have us drive? Should I have gotten something worse than the twenty-year-old Honda? Maybe you would prefer having to stick your foot out as you drive and pushing it along?”

I leaned over, acutely aware of exactly every inch of space his frame took up, which was way too much in the front seat of this car, and painstakingly avoided even an accidental brush. I tapped the spot above the odometer.

“Used? Demo at best. A couple trips around the block is far from what I’d had in mind.” I reclined back into chilled bliss.

“I know how you feel.” His voice had turned husky.

I knew that tone and it immediately set off a chain reaction in me. Just like that, he’d brought the discussion back to sex. He had a crazy ability to do that. Somehow, everything turned into a sexual innuendo with Fate these days.

“This was supposed to be a compromise?” I asked, playing tug of war with the conversation until the ribbon was back in safe territory.

“It was gently used. Not like it was ridden hard for hours on end and thoroughly abused, pushed to the very edge, until it gave over every ounce of soul it possessed to the feel of the ride.”

The air in my chest froze and it took a bit of conscious effort to get my diaphragm expanding again. Conversations with Fate had become like tiptoeing through a minefield and waiting to step on a trigger. It seemed like there was no subject that he couldn’t turn sexual.

I stretched out as much as I could in the car, which was more than if we’d gotten an automobile of my choosing. “Seeing as murder isn’t on the menu, I need to move around a bit and expend some energy.” And get a couple of deep breaths of fresh air in before he says something that sounds sexual again and I decide to throw caution to the wind.

His hand wrapped around my wrist as I went to leave. It was strange how when he touched me, my entire physical awareness shrank down to that one place where we touched, as if my entire body was running on a dead battery and he was feeding the current.

It was downright embarrassing how I reacted to him. He’d probably had so many women that nothing was a big deal and here I was, jumping at his touch. Another reason it wasn’t a good idea to go down…

Great, now I was turning everything into sex too. I wasn’t going to have many words left in my vocabulary soon.

He let go of me and held out the same hand, motioning for my notebook.

“You’re going to take notes?” My eyebrows would’ve touched my hairline if I raised them anymore.

“No,” he replied, confirming my impression. “I just want to see what you wrote.”

Yeah, now that was more like Fate, controlling to the core. I tucked the notebook in my purse, ignoring his request. And that was more like me, flaunting his demands. Plus, I didn’t think he’d get much out of my house and flowers doodle with the occasional heart accent. I could already hear the mockery.

“Fine. Keep your notebook. I’ll make my own.”

I shook my head as I got out of the car. Never, ever, would he keep a notebook.

“Don’t go far,” he yelled after me.

I nodded like I resented his watchful nature. I didn’t. I wasn’t sure why I acted as if I did. Maybe it was because to admit that I liked him worrying about me meant that I wanted him to care. That then reminded me that he didn’t care, at least not the way I wanted him to. Ta-da, it was better to not think of it at all. I was actually mad at myself for letting this train of thought take over in the first place. I was acting like a soft human again. Damn, it was hard to break that habit.

Tugging my purse higher on my shoulder, I pointed over to a convenience store that had somehow managed to stay in operation and not be looted. Only about thirty percent of businesses could boast such a thing. That percentage was dropping rapidly and on a daily basis. Soon it would be down below ten percent, the same rate as a new restaurant surviving its first year.

“You want a soda or something?” I yelled back to him, an afterthought as those southern manners I was still fighting reared their pretty little head like a game of Whack-A-Mole.

“
Something
.”

I could see his smile in the reflection of the rearview mirror.

Shaking my head, I pretended that I didn’t like the overtures. I was getting really good at all this pretending crap.

I walked away and headed toward the store.

The place was in relatively good shape, and I relished in the fact that I could still pick something off the shelf and not have to scavenge off the floor. It was a small perk but I’d always liked to think I was a smell the roses type, or as with this case, stop and taste the Ho Hos.

The large tattooed guy behind the register, with piercings from ear to nostril, watched me hesitantly as if I’d try and kick his ass at any moment. Even though he was twice my size, and assumed I was human, so many were carrying weapons at this point that no one was totally safe. I understood.

I gave him a smile and a wave, trying to put him at ease. He nodded and went back to flipping through last month’s issue of People magazine. I continued to peruse the offerings, unoffended.

I grabbed a pack of Twizzlers off the shelf and looked at the sticker. “Ten dollars? Are you people crazy?”

His left shoulder angled up toward his ear. “Supply and demand.”

“Oh, well thank you so much, Mr. Harvard Economics. You ever hear of ethics or price gauging in those classes?”

“Hey, no one’s forcing you to buy them.” He looked back down at his magazine.

I tossed the Twizzlers back on the shelf and moved on, not sure if I was going to be purchasing anything but not ready to go back to the love bug yet.

I forced myself to move on to the next overpriced package of empty calories as the Twizzlers continued to taunt me in my peripheral vision.

The door squeaked open as my internal clock told me it was three minutes past my unspoken allowed time frame when Fate would start getting edgy. I couldn’t leave though, not while I had a raging debate going on in my head over whether two Ho Hos were worth twelve dollars. Those Twizzlers were looking like a bargain but I couldn’t get them now, not with Mr. Economics ringing me out and my prior statements. But I really wanted that damn twisted red licorice. Maybe I could make Fate buy them. I’d have my candy and my pride.

“Mr. Healthy, you want some brownies?” I asked when a tall body cast a shadow on my package.

I suddenly knew it wasn’t Fate. It didn’t smell like him and even though whoever was hulking behind me wasn’t touching me, it didn’t feel like him either. Fate caused a certain sizzle in my senses when he came close.

It was probably some idiotic human drinking whatever crazy juice Malokin was handing out. I should handle him before I eat my snack. Didn’t want to fight on a full stomach.

“No, that isn’t what I was looking for.” The voice was deep, and monotone. I couldn’t explain why, but I’d guarantee the guy who owned it had less IQ points than the lump of chocolaty goodness in my hands.

I also recognized it immediately. I’d saved him—Eddie, the petty thief. I’d dragged him kicking and screaming out of an alleyway when he would’ve been stabbed with his own knife.

Somehow, I didn’t think he came here to show his gratitude. I wasn’t sure if he had found me intentionally, although I couldn’t imagine how, or perhaps the lack of shopping opportunities had created this chance meeting. Either way, he was on my bucket list. And here he was, serving himself up like a chilled bottle of champagne and yet I wasn’t allowed to pop his cork, so to speak.

I turned to face him and realized someone had already beaten me to the killing. He was already dead or at least not human anymore. Oddly, he didn’t look that much different from when he’d been mortal. Or maybe he did and it was just me?

It was still strange how I could recognize anyone after they changed but I did. Like with this guy, I knew he looked different but it was still him somehow. And it hit me. This was the first time I realized I wasn’t recognizing him as a human would recognize another human. I was recognizing him on some other deeper fundamental level that had my thoughts spinning.

All those times I’d thought I’d recognized someone in my human life but couldn’t put a name to the face, this is what it had been. The thing that makes us who we are, that goes with us from life to life, it never changes. We always know the people that have surrounded us deep down, whether they are meant to be in our lives at that moment of time or not.

As much as I wanted to drift off into my memories and musings, standing before me was a problem wrapped up in a black tracksuit. He wasn’t alone. He had two others with him, neither of whom I recognized, but definitely not human either, and it looked like they’d all done their shopping in the same place.

I didn’t know what happened when people were recruited outside of the agency but I knew it made them stronger, quicker and, in essence, a match for me. The biggest problem was, there were three of them and, if I had to guess, everyone outweighed me by almost double.

A couple of things immediately ran through my mind. Firstly, how had I been so lax that I hadn’t noticed three large men approaching me? Secondly was that Malokin must have been very busy and it better have been before the truce
he’d
called for.

The fact that there was a truce should’ve put me at ease but something didn’t feel right about this. I saw intent in their eyes, their stances, in the forward tilt of a head and the way one was rolling up his sleeves. They wanted to inflict pain and wouldn’t be happy until they did. They probably wouldn’t be happy afterward either, but that was their shrinks’ problem.

I belatedly scanned the store. The clerk was gone, and the back door was also wide open. I was glad for it even if I was silently calling him every name for coward that existed. This had the smell of something that was going to get ugly. The clerk hadn’t needed any more help in that area. He’d had a face that perfectly matched his shitty attitude. I wouldn’t want to be partially responsible for kids everywhere running away in tears.

I held up my hands, palms outward, toward the three undead amigos.

“I’m not looking for trouble.” I sounded like a bad action flick. Even in those movies that line never worked. I needed something extra. “Seriously,” I tacked on.
Oh, yeah, that made it so much better. Now they wouldn’t screw with me, for sure.

I could always try the honest approach and tell them I didn’t want to fight because I was outnumbered. I’m sure that would get them to leave me alone.

In actuality, I wasn’t adverse to a fight. My mouth drooled at the idea of taking out Eddie, just not three on one. If I could only get them to take turns, my night would be perfect.

Most likely it wouldn’t matter what I did or said. I was fairly certain a fight was coming. This wasn’t bluffing and showmanship.

Eddie reached out with his club-like hand and grabbed my arm, yanking me to him. Immediately I knew something was off. I felt like a rag doll. The guy was freakishly strong, even for one of us.

One hand wrapped around my back as the other groped my breast. “Nice and full, just how I like them.”

“Wow, what a charmer you are. I’m even getting foreplay and dirty talk.” There went my mouth, taunting him when I should’ve been trying to calm him down, especially since I couldn’t budge him. I was torn between pure rage and full blown “I really stepped in it this time” panic. He shouldn’t have been that much stronger than me.

No, I couldn’t get nervous. Panic was bad. So was rage. This wasn’t anything worse than I’d already dealt with. It was certainly less intrusive than a wiretap on my entire existence, like Malokin had done. Plus there was the truce. They wouldn’t kill me. They couldn’t.

Remain calm and talk to him. “Listen to me. We have a deal with your boss. You can’t do this. It would be very bad for your newly burgeoning career. Don’t you want to be Mr. Second Bad in Charge someday?”

He smiled. His teeth were perfect but that made him as appealing as getting bitten by a viper with gleaming scales.

“You’re right. I can’t off you. No one said shit about having a little fun with you.” His eyes looked even smaller when he smiled like he was.

I was shoved backward, the metal shelves of the rack pressing into my spine. His hand went from my breast to my hair, gripping it and pulling back on my scalp painfully as his mouth tried to close over mine. He didn’t want to have sex with me. He wanted to humiliate me and it looked like he had some experience at the job.

I pushed and shoved but he still didn’t budge. What the hell was up with this guy that I couldn’t move him even slightly? Eddie the pickpocket had just shown his value for recruitment. It wasn’t that I’d grown weaker; he’d become much stronger.

When his tongue shoved into my mouth, I bit down hard and then gagged on the taste of blood. He yanked back quickly, yelling out in pain.

“Grab her arms,” Eddie said to his two companions.

“You’re not grabbing anything,” I said, but Eddie still had a grip on me, and no matter how hard I punched or pulled, I couldn’t break it. Without being able to get clearance, both arms were grabbed and I was soon being turned and shoved face down over the ice cream fridge.

I struggled, pulling at my arms and seeing what leverage I had. The two holding me down weren’t as strong as the dick I’d saved but they had an arm each and they weren’t holding back. It felt like both limbs had the entire weight of each man bearing down on them. I yanked at my arms again and again, refusing to give up easily.

And where the hell was Fate? Was he taking a nap in the car?

A thought hit me like a kick to the teeth. Maybe he would let this happen to maintain the truce and limit the damage. Maybe he was out there right now, watching everything happen but wasn’t going to get involved. The idea made me sick but he’d already said as much just the other night. I was in this alone.

I never thought I’d be this vulnerable again. I was Karma, for fuck’s sake. How did this stuff keep happening? But there I was, stuck like an insect in sticky tape, and I’d been just as oblivious to the trap as the damn fly. Helpless, that was me. Again.

It was strange how my mind went to the oddest thoughts as I was about to be raped, like the way I couldn’t stop surveying the ice cream in the case below me. I was going to be violated as I stared down at my favorite Toll House ice cream sandwich. Even if they didn’t kill me, I’d never be able to eat one again.

The fact that I was even thinking about an ice cream sandwiches probably meant I was already mentally screwed up from this. Shouldn’t I be crying? Screaming? Was I really this tough or was I just in some sort of shock? I’d like to think I was strong but time would tell, if I lived past this, how many pieces of who I was would still be intact, how human I would be.

My leggings and underwear were roughly yanked down together and I heard fabric ripping. Bastard. Those were new leggings.

“I bet that made you feel really tough, ripping that flimsy fabric like that. Gotta give it to you, Eddie, you’re the man.”

“You’ll know exactly what kind of man I am.” His hand reached forward, at least I thought it was his, and slammed my head back the several inches I’d lifted it off the cooler. I was lucky I’d had it turned to the side or it would’ve been my nose absorbing the blow.

“Look at that ass.” I felt two hands on my back before his friend chimed in, “I get her next.”

“Fuck you. I do,” the other said.

“You can flip for it. Now shut it, you’re fucking up my hard on.”

Such a diplomat. Now I knew what was causing the delay. “Poor Eddie, can’t you get it up?”

My head slammed into the cooler again and my vision wobbled in and out, taking with it my bravado. This was definitely happening and nothing I said would goad him into a fight instead. I could handle a beat down. Nothing about that was new. I didn’t know if I could handle the three of them taking turns on me.

Finally, the dread I’d expected—the sheer horror of the situation—was hitting home and seemingly all at once. It started an avalanche of other thoughts, all the way back to when I’d first signed that contract with Harold.

Greed. It had been my time to die and I’d refused to accept it. I should’ve moved on but I’d taken any opportunity I could. I’d cheated death and for what? To end up like this? What good had come from it? I’d lost everything that I’d been trying to hold on to—my family, my career.

The new situation hadn’t turned out well. I was falling for someone out of reach while the world was falling apart and I couldn’t do a thing about it. Every time I thought I was getting my bearings, I went spinning again. Hell, I spent more time spinning than standing still, until lately it felt like the entire world was shifting with me.

It was too late to dwell. I needed to get past this first, and then I could have the luxury of picking apart my choices. I closed my eyes, trying to put myself somewhere else mentally. This didn’t matter. Nothing mattered. I’d get out of this and forget it ever happened.

Okay, forget might have been an overly optimistic prognosis. I would get over it though. And if they let me live, I’d kill them. One by one, in the most painful way I could devise.

My cheek was cool against the freezer and I imagined myself lying in a field far away. It was a pristine snowy evening, with flakes gently drifting down, coating the ground around me. And there were fireworks above.

Wait, that wasn’t imaginary fireworks, that was gunfire.

“Let her go.” I opened my eyes to see Fate standing in the door with a shotgun, looking like a demented demon. When his eyes glanced my way, I was glad he was on my team. The way he stood, feet braced apart with the butt of the gun against his shoulder, eyes blazing…forget a demon, he looked like the very devil waiting to escort us all to hell.