Twisted Karma

by Lizzy Ford

  He has a point, she thought.

  “Have a seat.” He motioned to the chairs behind the table. She sat beside him, and Trayern stood at the rear entrance to the chamber.

  She was both curious and wary of the duty. She sensed she’d be better at running a court than Wynn or her brothers, who were too hard and apathetic to care about what happened to a single life.

  “Name and crime accused of committing,” Wynn commanded of the first man in line.

  The Immortal gave his name, eyes flickering to Stephanie and back to Wynn. Equal parts fearful of what Wynn would decide and curious about the procedure, she sat and waited to see what happened.

  “Witnesses,” Wynn said, voice loud and clear.

  A man and woman stepped forward.

  Wynn motioned for them to speak.

  My husband can’t know about the affair, the woman thought.

  Stephanie’s eyebrows went up. Within seconds, she was leaning forward in interest, intrigued about what her gift could tell her. She read the fears of others and was surprised when more than one fear began to appear in the minds of those in front of her.

  Wynn was too much of a politician to display what he thought.

  Stephanie focused hard as each of the three spoke. She’d been too weirded out by the gift to use it purposely. But here, as with the soiree, where the truth determined the course of someone’s life, she found herself open to the idea.

  The three stepped back, awaiting Wynn’s judgment. He turned to her.

  “What did you determine?” he asked.

  “The woman is afraid of her husband finding out about the affair. Her husband wasn’t present to witness the theft but is claiming he was. The thief doesn’t want the husband to find out he’s in love with the woman,” she said. “I can’t put the picture together about the theft, though. I feel like there’s a lot missing.”

  “You’ll find the answers in their minds, if you know how to look beyond conscious thought to the secrets tucked deep in their subconscious and unconscious,” Wynn replied. “Fears operate on a different level than conscious thought. Kris reads minds but can’t read fears, unless someone is thinking about them at the time.”

  “You can do both, can’t you?” she asked.

  “Not exactly,” Wynn said but didn’t expand on his answer. “The woman is lying, because the item she claims was stolen she actually sold to pay off a debt. Her husband knows nothing about the debt, but he believes his wife, hence the reason he appears to be telling the truth. What the thief stole last year: a shirt.”

  Stephanie’s brow furrowed. “He stole a shirt? Why?”

  “He was sleeping with the wife and took one of her husband’s shirts when he came home too early.” Wynn smiled.

  “I didn’t get much at all,” she said, disappointed. “How do you sentence a man who is indeed a thief but not for the crime committed?”

  “In this circumstance, you address only the crime brought to you. In others, you may consider past crimes.”

  “How do you know when to consider past crimes and when not to?”

  “You’ll discover the answer by the end of today.”

  Stephanie sat back, ruminating over all she’d learned by the simple interaction.

  Wynn motioned the accused forward. “Innocent,” he pronounced. The scribe at the end of the table tapped the judgment into the tablet he held.

  The alleged thief appeared relieved, the woman angry, and her husband confused.

  “Next,” Wynn said.

  Stephanie didn’t know what to think of the abrupt dismissal either. No one was given the chance to appeal or protest. Her attention shifted instantly to the next alleged criminal who stepped forward.

  After hearing their stories, Wynn turned to her again.

  “He’s guilty,” she murmured.

  “He is.”

  “What do you do now?”

  “It’s up to you to determine.”

  “There’s no guidelines or rules or …” she asked, surprised.

  “No. You decide.”

  “That doesn’t seem fair.”

  “The punishment should fit the crime. To determine that, you must remove yourself from emotion or bias. You are the only person who can choose how a wrong is righted. If you are too harsh, you invoke the wrath of your people. If you are too lenient, your people will think you weak. You will be taken advantage of,” he said. “Your people are always watching.”

  She nibbled on her lower lip. It was difficult enough passing judgment on anyone. Contending with the impact of her decisions on the society was an even harder concept for her to grapple with.

  “What would you do?” she asked.

  “When possible, the accused makes amends. For example, if found guilty he would replace what was stolen, or if not possible, repay the value of the item.”

  “Pretty sure this guy doesn’t have the money to repay anything if he’s stealing it,” she mused.

  “Then he becomes the personal property of the people he stole from, until he works off the debt.”

  “Slavery?”

  “More like indentured servitude. He can’t be hurt or abused, but he must repay his debt somehow. He’ll be sentenced to work for the family.”

  “Makes sense,” she said. The Immortals did things very differently than she was accustomed to. This was their world, and she had to adapt. Perhaps, when she was in charge, she could improve their court system. “To pay off the debt, he’d probably have to serve two months. I think Kiki said that’s the amount Immortals receive for their welfare checks.”

  “Agreed,” Wynn replied. “Dividends, not welfare checks. They all receive a proportional number of shares and use the dividends on those shares as an income.”

  She pursed her lips.

  He issued the judgment and dismissed the case.

  Wynn heard out the next four cases. Reluctantly, she was forced to admit he was thoughtful and fair. Stephanie hated admiring him for how fast his mind worked or the fact he wasn’t sentencing everyone to death. He was kinder to his people than he was to his family, which infuriated her to no end.

  His methods were generally terrible, but he was making an effort to show her the ins and outs of what it meant to lead, and she needed the lessons. It was difficult to set aside her feelings for him but easy to determine guilt and innocence when able to rely on her ability. It would take her some time to understand what sentences were suitable for the crime committed. Wynn wasn’t lenient by any means, but he had given the guilty parties a choice more than once about how they wanted to serve their time. There was flexibility in the process and, to her surprise, some compassion or perhaps, fairness, for she didn’t think Wynn was capable of true empathy.

  “Your turn,” he said when it was time to hear the final case.

  Stephanie gripped her hands in her lap. “I can do this.” She released a breath.

  “There’s no better way to learn.”

  She nodded. Thus far, the cases had been simple: mostly theft, one case of assault between two neighbors arguing over a property line, and one of public indecency. She’d agreed with Wynn’s handling of every one of them and felt confident about hearing another theft case.

  The final man stepped forward. No witnesses were present, though one of the guards was.

  Confused, Stephanie scanned the people, waiting for someone to step forward.

  “He was investigated by the Immortal guards,” Wynn explained. “You’ll have to listen harder to determine his guilt.”

  Fourteen. It was the fear of the man in front of her.

  She frowned. No additional information reached her mind. How did a simple number qualify as a fear?

  “Read the charges,” Wynn directed the guard.

  The guard lifted his tablet. “Child abuse, assault and battery, attempted murder, kidnapping. Three charges for each crime.”

  Stephanie did her best not to give away her surprise. “Tell me what happened in your own words,” she direct
ed the accused, as Wynn had the others.

  He spoke, denying all the charges, and claiming his intentions had been misunderstood by people who wanted to punish him. As he talked, she pried the deeply held fear from his mind.

  He didn’t want the court to know there were fourteen children, not just the three he was accused of hurting.

  Stephanie sat back when he was finished, struggling not to show her shock.

  Wynn motioned the accused to step back and waited for her to address him.

  “What the fuck?” she whispered.

  “This is the hard part,” Wynn said. “When you know he’s guilty, and you know he’s committed heinous crimes, many of which have not been reported.”

  “He’s into child porn! What the fuck?” she repeated, horrified. “How … holy fuck!”

  “What do you do with someone who threatens your society and those in it? Who targets the most vulnerable?” Wynn mused, far too measured for her to believe anything other than he’d set her up to take the worst case as a lesson. “In this circumstance, you must consider past crimes, because they’re of a nature that threatens the vulnerable and indicate a pattern that cannot be dismissed. There is no rehabilitation for a person like this.”

  Stephanie stared at the accused, feeling sick to her stomach. “I don’t know if I can do this,” she said, stricken.

  “Can do what?” Wynn asked.

  “You want me to choose if he lives or dies. That’s what this whole fucking thing is about.”

  “You choose what you feel is right.”

  Her gaze went to Wynn, who was watching her, inscrutable.

  “If you want to teach me a lesson, I get it,” she said, anger flickering within her. “There are people who want to hurt others, people who want to hurt us. Sometimes, people must die, because we can’t save everyone.”

  “This isn’t a lesson,” Wynn stated. “This is reality. You want to know why I do what I do, why I am the way I am, then you have to face the reality of what I face daily. There are no training wheels around here, Stephanie. The lives of those in our society depend upon your decisions and sometimes, your decisions alone.”

  “Wynn …”

  “You decide.”

  Stephanie swallowed hard. There was no justice for the children the Immortal had hurt, and they were likely never to recover from what he’d done to them.

  But how was one person allowed to condemn anyone to death, no matter how bad the crimes were?

  She struggled with herself. Wynn had intentionally placed her in a position where killing someone not only felt justified but warranted. He wasn’t just making a point, he was showing her a perspective she never, ever wanted to acknowledge: his, in which protecting the greater good sometimes meant committing barbaric acts.

  He was giving her the opportunity to commit evil to protect the greater good.

  “I can’t,” she whispered hoarsely. Stephanie gazed at him, praying he let her off the hook.

  For a long moment, he studied her in silence.

  “Do it,” Wynn ordered quietly. “Or I’ll let him go free.”

  Never, she thought. A man like the one standing in front of her didn’t belong on the streets. Stephanie drew a breath. After a moment of thought, she decided.

  “Guilty,” she said. “But you have a choice of sentence. Prison or death.” She almost choked on the last word.

  The man frowned. “Prison? For all eternity?”

  “Yes.” This came out firm, because no part of her would allow this man to see daylight again.

  “Death,” he replied.

  Her jaw clenched, and her stomach turned over.

  “Okay,” she said.

  Rhyn stepped forward to take the man’s arm.

  The two left the chamber.

  “Dismissed,” Wynn said in the tense quiet.

  Stephanie was the first person on her feet. She fled through the back entrance leading to the depths of the castle and stopped in the hallway, out of everyone’s sight. She leaned against the cool wall, unable to make sense of her thoughts. Trayern hovered nearby.

  “What happens to him now?” she asked in a tight voice as Wynn joined her.

  “Do you really want to know?” he returned.

  “No. But I need to.”

  “Rhyn is the enforcer. He ensures a quick death for the guilty and that the depraved soul makes it to Death and not the Dark One.”

  “But doesn’t this make us as bad as someone who commits these kinds of crimes?” she asked.

  “Does it?”

  Stephanie couldn’t answer the question. All she could think about was the children whose lives would forever be changed because of what one man had done to them.

  “What about prison?” she asked finally. “I could’ve insisted he spent eternity in the dungeon instead.”

  “True,” Wynn allowed. “He dies either way. It’s a matter of when. An eternity in prison or a quick death? Which is more merciful? You allowed him to choose his fate, which was kinder than I would’ve been.”

  “You knew this case would be terrible, didn’t you?”

  “I picked up on it when we entered.”

  “Why would you do this?” she demanded. “Don’t give me the shit about learning why you do what you do! Why would you make my first case …” She drifted off, struggling with her emotions.

  “Why would I test you on your first case?” he finished for her.

  She nodded.

  “I’m placing the welfare of an entire society in your hands. How could I not?”

  Stephanie didn’t answer.

  “I know you have been faced with several unusual changes in your life in general,” Wynn said. “Your duty to your people must become your priority. There is room for compassion, but there are also many circumstances where you will be forced to make a difficult choice in the name of the greater good and protecting your people.”

  She listened, reminded of how similar Fate’s speech to her had been. The deity who foresaw the Future often had to choose between altering chains-of-events, or letting them play out on their own, whether he wanted the outcomes to be what they would. He’d warned her against interfering in the Future or feeling angry with him when he chose not to step into a chain or for refusing to discuss the Future with her.

  Of every surprise Stephanie had encountered since entering the world of Immortals and deities, the dedication of ruthless men to their noble duties continued to astound her.

  “What we do is not always easy.”

  She looked up, not expecting the masterful politician to admit anything that sounded remotely human. Trayern lingered nearby, listening to everything.

  “Death is often necessary, whether you’re sentencing a threat to your society or choosing how to stop a demon incursion,” Wynn added. “Can you see that?”

  “Yes. Sort of,” she said, disturbed. “I don’t know if I can sentence people to death, even if they deserve it.”

  “You’re the only one I’d turn the Council over to.”

  “I know you think I can do this, even if I’m not sure why you believe in me. But Wynn … how can you be confident when I feel as if I won’t be ready for a million years to lead the Immortals?”

  Wynn gave one of his rare smiles. “Do you really have to ask how I know what’s best for my people?”

  “Is this you being supportive?” she asked, baffled by the idea that her dictator of a father would bother. “Because it’s really freaking me out.”

  “I want to impress upon you the idea you are the right choice and you can do this. There’s a learning curve, but you have what it takes to succeed.”

  “Thank you. I think,” she said and straightened. “It’s going to take me time.”

  “You have time.”

  He’d done this before, made her believe he was genuinely pleased to have her in the family and to have a daughter. She’d fallen for it every time without being able to tell whether he was serious.

  She was caught in h
is game once more. It wasn’t his subtle charisma alone, but the combination of charisma and the hope she’d always had of finding out her father wanted her in his life as much as she had always dreamed of having him in hers. It was impossible to forget what he was, but sometimes, she believed there was something redeemable in him.

  “Our next order of business is to meet with the new heads of the four families who betrayed us and identify any other traitors,” Wynn said. He turned away and began walking.

  Stephanie’s warmth and hope vanished. It was difficult to want his approval, when he’d beheaded eight people at their last dinner.

  “Wait,” Stephanie called. “Before you flip back into murder-Wynn again, there’s something I wanted to tell you.”

  “It’s not necessary,” he replied.

  “It’s necessary for me,” she said firmly and drew abreast of him. Gazing at the enigmatic man she couldn’t decide if she should fear or respect, she drew a deep breath. “I know you arranged for me to see Fate. I wanted to thank you.”

  “As I said, it’s not necessary,” he replied.

  “Can’t you say you’re welcome, like a normal person?” she retorted. “I’m playing your games. Just humor me for two seconds.”

  “I needed to keep you out of Hell.”

  I’m afraid of losing my mate.

  She blinked, astounded by Wynn’s fear and that she could read it. “Bullshit! You did it because you understand,” she said, startled.

  “I was wondering who taught Andre that particular curse.”

  “Don’t deflect, Wynn. It’s true, isn’t it?” she persisted. “You knew I was hurting, because you understood what it meant to have a mate. Karma -”

  “Enough.” Wynn’s voice was low, lethal. He stopped and went stiff at the mention of his mate’s name. “We will not discuss this.”

  He stalked away.

  His mind was closed to her, but Stephanie didn’t need confirmation that his relationship was in trouble.

  Why did it surprise her that the man who planned every nanosecond of his life and the lives of his family could care enough about his mate to fear losing her?

  She started to smile. She didn’t mind Wynn being miserable, but when she thought about what Karma was going through, Stephanie’s smile faded. Karma didn’t deserve the suffering Wynn appeared to be suffering from.