Karma (Karma Series)

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Karma (Karma Series) Page 17

by Donna Augustine


  I tried to look past him as I forced a smile on my face. I think I mumbled out a “thank you,” but I wasn't sure.

  We walked out of the office and I could breathe again. The further we got from him the better I was feeling.

  The fresh air hit me as we exited the building. I moved out of the embrace of Fate’s arm as the sun hit my skin and I felt normal again.

  “Well?” Fate asked after we got a few parking rows away from the building.

  “It was, well, I’m sure you know. I wish you had given me a little warning.”

  “I have no idea what you saw or felt in there. Every one of us experiences things differently. I got nothing from him again.”

  He stood there waiting for me to tell him what I thought.

  “Well, if what I just saw was his karma...” I shuddered before I could continue. “He's certainly not on the good team.”

  “How bad?”

  “With no point of reference, it's hard to say. But, I hope he's among the worst because I'd hate to see anything beyond that.”

  I breathed deep, enjoying the smell of the outdoors more than I had all week. “Why did it come on like that this time, when I got nothing from him at the beach?”

  “You were closer to him for a longer time and perhaps…” his words died off.

  I looked at him and I knew what he didn’t want to say. I’d taken a step further away from my old life.

  He dug his hands in his pockets and looked down for a bit before he met my gaze. “You know, I didn’t do it to be—”

  “I know.” I broke the gaze. I did get it. This was his job. I wouldn’t hold that against him. But I wasn’t going to discuss it either, not anymore anyway because it was also my life—or had been.

  Fate dug out his phone and called for the doors. They appeared before us and opened up to a lawn with the sprinkler system on full blast.

  “Guys, I thought we were good?”

  I received a single nod.

  “Then what's with this?”

  I didn't expect them to talk. Not with the way Fate had reacted to them even pointing. But then a single word came out.

  “Funny,” the guard on the right, the one I considered slightly more outgoing of the two, said. It sounded like a clap of thunder when he spoke. I felt the vibration of it go straight through me like I was upfront at a concert but I understood it perfectly.

  “Funny?”

  They nodded. I just shook my head. “I'm glad I can offer you cosmic entertainment.”

  “I told you, strange,” Fate said from behind me.

  I shrugged as I walked through the door and took off in a sprint through the sprinkler. It was the office building next to us and I could see my Honda from the lawn.

  “Where you going?” Fate yelled from behind me as he crossed the lawn.

  “My place to get a change of clothes,” I said heading to my car.

  “We need to talk. You’ve got stuff at my place.”

  “Can’t it wait?” I said, pausing a few feet from my car.

  “’Til when? We don't have that much time.”

  It was true. I'd be officially resigning in less than two weeks. I needed to make this experience count for something. If I left leaving a mass murderer behind, what was the point of it all? I needed something positive to come out of this. I had to have something positive. “Okay. I’ll meet you there.”

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  “Are you sure you didn’t eat anything at Cupid’s?” he asked as he watched me walk into his kitchen.

  “I told you, no. Why do you keep asking?”

  “Forget it,” he said but continued to stare at me in a weird sort of appraising way.

  I left him standing in the kitchen and sat on the couch, facing away from him to avoid his perusal.

  “Did you pick up on anything else? Other than he was bad?” I heard him moving around the kitchen doing who knew what as he talked.

  “No.”

  “Are you sure?”

  I shook my head and sighed. “Yes. Are you sure your hearing is okay? Because I can’t figure out why I have to answer every question twice.” I grabbed a magazine lying on the table. I never would have pegged him for a Home and Garden reader in a million years. Maybe he did decorate the place himself.

  “You know we're running out of time.”

  “Yes. You mentioned that. Unlike you, I hear things the first time they’re said.” Wow, what a pretty gazebo. I wonder if I could make a note of this and put in a request for my next life. I’d really like one of those. I’d heard you could do that.

  He walked over and stood in front of me. “I want to bring in some outside help.”

  My head perked up. “I didn't know there was outside help?”

  “Nothing company approved.”

  I threw the magazine back on the table. “Is this something that could get me in trouble?” He wasn’t leaning on anything. For some reason, I found that alarming.

  “Yes.”

  “Can you lean on something?” I asked.

  “Why? I don’t feel like leaning.”

  That did not bode well. What could be so important that it made him use both of his legs? This was some serious business.

  “What is it?” I asked, hoping he’d lean soon.

  “There is a certain person I want to call in, for our purposes, lets just say he's in the know but not with the organization.”

  Oh no, he just crossed his arms. “And what does he do?” I sat up a little straighter myself now.

  “He might be able to open you up a bit more by shedding some of the humanness you still have clinging to you.”

  Now I was standing, too. “I don’t want to shed anymore. I want a smooth reentry.”

  He followed me as I moved about the room. I didn’t have a destination in mind but I no longer felt like sitting still.

  “That has no effect on it. Where did you get that idea?”

  “How do you know it doesn’t? And I’m not sure I’m comfortable going outside the organization. That sounds like trouble to me.” I crossed my arms now. I knew I should’ve gone home.

  “It doesn't matter, since we aren’t getting caught.”

  I laughed loudly at that one. “You know how many clients I’ve had who thought the same thing?”

  “If you don't, you'll move on and we might never get the guy that killed you. You're okay with moving on and leaving this guy on the loose?” He crossed the room until he was only a foot away from me. “And I thought you actually had some balls.”

  “Really? You think you can goad me with that stupid ploy?”

  He just stood there smiling at me.

  “Fine. Do it. But, this isn’t because of your stupid goad.”

  He didn’t say anything, he just opened up the drawer on the side table and pulled out a cell phone.

  He stared straight at me as he spoke into it. “Can you swing by?”

  ***

  I sat on the couch with my snifter of Maker's Mark whiskey, which I was starting to develop a taste for. We were waiting for a guy named Lars. Technically, just I was, since Fate had disappeared into the garage, probably doing some other secret stuff.

  Lars. Even the name sounded shady to me. I repeated it in my head and I couldn’t help but scowl. That had to be a bad sign.

  Lars showed up at the back entrance, which I guess was to be expected, considering how this was supposed to be secret. Yeah, secret in the shadiest kind of ways.

  He had waist length black hair, black eyes and tattoos all up and down his arms that crept onto his shoulders. I could see this because he only wore a tank top. He wore black pants and one of those chain key holder type things.

  He was the same man I'd seen with Fate in my parking lot. If the information I got from Murphy was correct, Well hello, mister ex-reaper.

  Anyone who thought death warmed over didn't look good had never seen this guy. I nodded in acknowledgment as we both sized each other up. He liked what he saw and wasn't shy a
bout it.

  I was a little more reserved myself. He was attractive but the past occupation was a bit off putting. Orgasms are hard on the heart already. An orgasm delivered by death just didn’t seem like a good combination.

  “Fate,” I yelled, “your company is here.”

  Lars placed his bag on the table in between us. He sat down on the couch across from me as we continued to size each other up.

  He obviously already knew who I was. I knew who he was too, and yet we both sat there saying nothing.

  “Lars.” Fate came and sat next to me on the couch and I wasn't sure why I found that comforting. Maybe I figured Fate didn't want me dead. I didn't know what this other guy was about.

  “You say anything?” It was the second time I’d heard Lars’s voice and it fit his appearance perfectly.

  “No. I figured I'd let you do the honors,” Fate said as his arm went around the back of the couch where I sat.

  “It's always such a pleasure.” Lars’s attention swung back to me. “What I have to do isn't agency approved. It’s a two-step process. I need to tattoo you. The tattoo will block the universe from picking up on the next order of business.”

  I looked at his arms now, covered in tattoos. “Is that what yours are for?”

  “Not these,” he said indicating his arms. “And I wouldn't ask any other questions, if I were you. I'm taking a risk with this, and pretty girl or not, I don't like risks.”

  I was used to people with secrets but that didn’t make me comfortable trusting them. The bigger and badder the secret, the less I trusted. I knew Fate had his share and I thought this guy might have even more.

  “You can't tell anyone about this. You understand, right?” Fate asked.

  “Not even Ha—”

  “Don't say any names. Not yet.”

  I didn't exactly like Harold, or have any desire to confide in him, but being told I couldn't tell him didn't feel exactly right, either.

  I looked at the two of them, Lars and Fate. I could see why they’d be friends. This is who I’d thrown my lot in with? What did I even truly know about Fate? He worked for the same company I did, and that didn't inspire any confidence either when I thought about it.

  Really, what did I even know about the company or Harold? I'd been going on the assumption that we were the good guys, keeping everything in line, but what if that wasn't the case? Or not completely, anyway?

  At least I knew I'd helped that man. I knew I'd helped the woman, too. Whatever the rest of them did wasn't my problem. People always talk about how you die alone. They don’t talk about the one benefit to this. When you do die alone, you've only got your sins to contend with. I only had to live with myself and I didn't feel bad about any of those choices.

  The two of them were sitting there, waiting for some acknowledgement or acceptance.

  “After the tattoo, if I want to stop, can I?” I asked Lars since he had the supply bag and I assumed he be doing the tattooing.

  “Yes.”

  “Nothing we do will carry over, will it? To my next life I mean.”

  “This magic is strong, so there will be a residual left. But the only reminder you might have in your new life is a birthmark where the tattoo once was. You won't remember anything about it, though, and it won’t leave any other residual effects.”

  If I wanted out, this was probably the best time, before I even dipped my toes in the water. I looked at Fate. I couldn't read him anymore. I didn't know why or what, but something about him just kept screwing with my antenna.

  I'd have to base my decision on Lars. He wasn't trying to sell me on this, but the best sales people don't do the hard sell. Yet, he truly didn't appear to care—maybe a little but he wouldn't be upset if I declined. Just in the time it was taking for me to decide, he'd already started to get distracted by the TV, and he wasn't faking it.

  “What does the tattoo part do? Can you tell me that?” I turned to Fate, thinking he’d be more likely to tell me than Lars.

  “It's a shield, of sorts. Right now, everything you do as part of the agency is relayed back. Essentially, right now you can't have a secret.”

  “Certain people know everything?”

  I didn’t think I was a bad person but we all have secrets and I wasn’t immune. I wondered what else was in the fine print that I wasn't aware of. I opened my mouth to say more but Fate’s fingers brushed my lips.

  “It doesn’t matter what you think but watch what you say.” He moved his fingers away. “They can’t pick up on me or what I’m saying and Lars shielded the house before he came in, but that doesn’t mean some of it can’t leak out. Names are especially bad.”

  Seriously? They could track everything I did? Case closed. “Somewhere hidden.”

  “It's got to be, anyway,” Fate said.

  “Where do you think?” Lars asked, returning his attention back to me.

  “What about here?”

  Fate pointed to a spot slightly inside my hipbone that would fall right below my bikini line.

  “You good with that?” Lars asked.

  “It'll work. How big will it be?”

  “About two inches in diameter.”

  I nodded and he started digging through his bag.

  “I'll clear off the table. You might want to throw on a pair of sweat pants.”

  “I don't have any here.”

  “Take a pair of mine. Top right drawer.”

  I went in Fate’s room and was thankful of the moment of privacy to think out my decision alone for a second. Was I doing the right thing? I didn't even really know what it was I was doing? But if I didn't, and the killer went free, what was this all for? Would they ever get him? I needed this all to be for something: the death, watching my parents grieve, seeing Charlie. It couldn’t just be for dumb luck and then I moved on. I had to make this count for something.

  I pulled his large sweat pants on and rolled the top down several times and the ankles up. Not exactly a fashion plate, as I walked back out, but at least I wouldn't get blood on my clothes.

  “Hop up,” Lars said from his seat at the table.

  I lay down and tugged the sweatpants a few inches lower on my hips.

  “What is it going to look like, anyway?”

  He held up a tattoo stencil of a ying-yang sign.

  “Karma?” It was fitting. When I first started this, I’d hated the name, and despised the job, but I found it was growing on me a little. Not enough to want to stay on, but I didn’t hate it anymore.

  “It's what you are, so the symbol will yield the most protection,” Lars explained.

  Fate turned a chair around and sat on it backwards, resting his forearms on the back. “And also a dead giveaway. Remember that. Harold can’t see this.”

  “Well, I guess it's a good thing I don't find Harold attractive and therefore have no intention of dropping my pants for him. Huh?”

  Lars pressed the stencil onto my skin.

  “You want to see it?”

  “Nope. It won't be there long anyway.”

  “Then I'll get started.”

  I heard the buzzing before I felt the sting. The tattoo gun felt a little like getting stung but nothing as painful as I'd imagined.

  “So, what comes next?” I asked.

  Lars stopped tattooing just long enough to hold a finger to his lips.

  Fate edged his chair down closer to my head from where he’d been watching the tattoo.

  “We can't tell you until he’s done,” Fate spoke quietly by my side. “Nothing about this is a normal tattoo. The ink, the way he is applying it, everything is steeped in heavy magic.”

  I leaned my head against the pillow Fate had laid on the table for me, as I listened to a baseball game being played on the TV. My thoughts wandered, occasionally broken by the cheering for a score or by the irritation of Lars moving the tattoo gun over the same area repeatedly.

  I felt a cloth wipe over my skin again and then Lars leaned back, taking in his work.

&n
bsp; “Done?”

  “With the tattoo, yes.”

  Fate stood up and leaned over me, peering at Lars's work. His fingers grazed over my stomach and sent tingles through me, making me feel flushed like I had in the elevator earlier today.

  I looked down and Lars’s handy work. I wasn’t a tattoo expert but it looked pretty good to me.

  “Nice work.”

  “I own the tattoo shop, Dead Ink, over in Myrtle Beach, so I've had some practice,” Lars said as he eyed his latest accomplishment.

  “Well isn't that convenient.” Dead Ink? Talk about hiding in plain sight. I imagined all the people going in and getting reaper tattoos. Wow, if they had any idea how close to death they really were, I bet they’d rethink the subject matter.

  “Do I need to cover it?” I asked as I hopped down off the table.

  “No. This one needs to breathe.”

  “So what's the deal? How do you two know each other?” Sometimes the best time to ask a question is when you already know the answer. And how honest are you going to be with me? Instinct, of which mine was usually dead on the mark, told me probably not that much.

  Fate stepped back from where he’d been peering out the back doors. “Even though the agency will tell you differently, there are certain humans that are aware of us. Lars is one of them.”

  Liar. Why am I not surprised? “So what comes next?”

  Fate took the lead, as Lars continued to pack up his supplies but was still listening to every word said.

  “Now, we lift the veil.”

  “What else is there?”

  He took my discarded snifter of whiskey, topped it off and handed it to me.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  I stared at my reflection above the bathroom sink while Fate and Lars waited for me in the living room.

  Did I really want to make this choice? My tour guides were proving to be less than honest.

  What if I saw something I couldn't live with? But, knowing I'd only be here for a little longer, could I really not do it? Forget about the murderer. This was a chance to see and know the secrets of the universe. Who could walk away from knowledge like that?

 

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