by G. Bailey
Dad’s the first one to speak, surprising me. “I might be the only human in this room, but I don’t need magic to know you need to explain what happened, Karma.”
“Karma, is that really you?” Hugo asks, pointing at the screen.
Damien can’t help but ask, “How did you get that powerful? Where did you find a new sister?”
“It’s good to be home, but I want to get some sleep, but know I’m so sorry for what I did. I was forced,” I finally say, not answering them exactly but giving enough to keep them appeased for a minute. I push away from Killian and run through the house, up the stairs and carefully past the haunted painting before getting to my room. The tears are already falling when I see my old room and walk in the dark to my bed. Clutching my bedsheets, I roll onto my side and let out all the emotions I’ve held back for as long as I could. I weep, crying my eyes out even as I hear the door creak open and three people enter the room. Seth lies next to me as Storm sits on the end of my bed. I glance over as Killian climbs onto the other side of the bed, and I snuggle into his chest as I can’t stop crying.
“You did not do this. Neritous made you. Cry with us tonight, and tomorrow you make him pay for burning the city and using you as his weapon.”
I can’t respond to Storm’s words, but I know he is right. But tonight...tonight I mourn the lives I took.
Tonight I beg for whatever magic there is in the world to forgive me.
Chapter 10
There’s nothing quite like the feeling of not being at home in your own skin. I’ve always considered myself pretty self-assured, at least when it comes to my place in the world. At the end of the day, my identity was chosen for me from square one: spend my life as a karma goddess, balancing the scales of justice, no matter how petty, and live a happy, uneventful life. It might not have been an adventure, but it was a known quantity. It’s only now, as I thrash around in bed, my sweat soaking the sheets and my breathing ragged and heavy, that I’m starting to appreciate that sense of hum drum normality.
I thought I knew who I was once. I was never a great karma goddess, but that was all I had to be; my responsibilities began and ended with a name on my hand and a chain full of charms around my neck, and that was fine by me. Now, though, as I stare up at the ceiling with eyes that are bloodshot from lack of sleep, I’ve never felt more alien. It’s not just a superficial thing, although the tattoos are going to take some getting used to—they’re a symptom, not the cause, another brutal reminder of the fact that I’ve been moulded into a tool by the man who was supposed to be my father.
No, the worst part is the foreignness of it all. It feels like there’s something alive inside me, a parasite that’s made a home from my skin all the way to my bones, and there’s nothing I can do about it. It’s like I can feel it slowly seeping through my being, like a tree spreading out roots, touching every cell in my body until no part of me is free from its horrible, beautiful power. My karma magic is like a second skin to me, and even my higher god powers, the ones I got from Neritous, were starting to feel more familiar, if still intimidating.
This, though… This is something else. It’s as insidious as it is alluring, as destructive as it is poignant, and it sickens me with its seductive allure. That’s the worst part, I think: in spite of everything that’s happened, in spite of the destruction I wrought on a human city yesterday, it’s still powerfully, hauntingly seductive. I can feel its beauty and potency every time I close my eyes, and it’s all I can do not to scream when I remember what it felt like to use it.
Is this what Mads is going through? I wonder, rolling onto my side and nestling in closer to Seth. Killian is on my other side, a muscular arm draped over his eyes as he snores softly, and the image almost makes me smile…almost. Storm is asleep at the foot of the bed, his broad chest rising and falling rhythmically with his breath, a reminder that I’m not alone, even if I have to face these demons on my own. Seth makes a soft noise in his sleep as I move closer to him, wrapping a protective arm around my body, and I lean into the comfort of his embrace, grateful for the warmth and security. Fresh tears spring up in my eyes at the thought of her imprisoned in her room down the hall, confused and amnesic, dealing with her transformation all by herself. I’m barely keeping it together, and I’m surrounded by people I know and love. She must be so confused… I squeeze my eyes closed, tears leaking out and creeping down my cheeks, and all I can do is bury my face in the crook between Seth’s arm and his chest, leaving a wet stain as I try to muffle my sobs. It’s all too much.
Seth shifts a little, opening a tired golden eye, which immediately goes wide with concern when he sees that I’m crying. “Hey,” he whispers, taking my chin in his fingers and peering into my face. “Karma…what’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” I reply. “Just…sorting through some stuff right now. Go back to sleep.”
“Karma…”
“Please,” I implore him, my voice a raspy whisper. “I don’t want to talk. I just need you to hold me.”
Seth watches me for a long, heavy moment, his face drawn with concern, and then he nods, wrapping his other arm around me and pulling me onto his chest. He doesn’t say anything, and for that, I’m grateful. I don’t think I have talking in me right now. Seth has lost enough in his own life to understand that sometimes the best thing you can do when you’re grieving is to share silence with someone. For all his stiffness, he knows what it’s like to lose someone you love—he lost his wife and child, for god’s sake.
But what about when the person you love, the person you’ve lost, is yourself?
Another ragged sob wracks my body, and I feel the justice god’s hand smooth over my back, rubbing gently back and forth in a soothing motion as I cry into his chest, finally able to let go of all the guilt, anger, and confusion. So much has changed, so much keeps changing…and if I’m not careful, I’m afraid that I’ll lose myself completely in the chaos.
Eventually I do nod off, and my sleep is fretful and full of fragmented nightmares, flashbacks to what happened with Neritous, visions of Maria’s death, of Mads with her cold, dead eyes…and then my eyes burst open. I’ve soaked the sheets, and my shirt with sweat, and my breathing is coming in heavy bursts. Late morning sunlight is streaming in through the window, and I don’t think I’ve ever been more grateful that it’s daylight than I am now. Wiping the sleep from my eyes, I slowly sit up, raising my eyebrows when I see that I’m alone in my room. The blankets are thrown back where the justice twins were sleeping, and I see that Storm has straightened up his makeshift area, too. The door is closed, leaving me by myself in a tangle of sheets and blankets, and for a little bit, I miss the comfort of the guys’ embraces… Until I see the clock, that is.
“Shit,” I hiss, raking a hand through my unkempt red curls as I fling the sheets off me and swing my legs off the bed. It’s almost eleven in the morning, and no one even came to wake me up! What the hell is this world coming to? Hit with a wave of exhaustion even as I stand up, I let out an unladylike groan, stretch, and set about getting dressed. It’s a relief to be out of that ball gown Neritous stuck me in to activate the sphere, and having access to all my old clothes is more of a comfort than I ever would have expected. Hell, just being here, in my room, surrounded by memories of a simpler time… It’s depressing, but also surprisingly soothing, considering the last time I was here, I had yet to kill—or rather attempt to kill—Neritous, discover my powers, or meet the guys. How could I have possibly known what I was getting into when I went to that nightclub? It feels like half a lifetime ago, even if it was really just a matter of weeks.
I purse my lips, parsing through my selection of clothes and shoes—the shoes, it’s shameful how much I’ve missed those—before selecting a pair of skinny jeans and a torn T-shirt. Not the most glamorous look, but considering what I’ve been through, the fashion police are just going to have to forgive me. I stop in the bathroom to brush my teeth and my hair, trying futilely to make myself feel somewhat human again before
making my way down the hallway in the direction of the stairs. I pass the jumping painting on my way down, ducking out of the way just in time to narrowly miss the hand that comes clawing out of the canvas, and begin to tromp downstairs, the sounds of quiet conversation drawing my attention to the kitchen. Pausing at the base of the stairs, I tilt my head to one side and listen, my stomach sinking the instant I realise they’re talking about me. “...I didn’t know this kind of thing was possible,” mum is saying in that low, concerned tone of voice she always used when I got sick as a kid.
“It’s not,” Peyton responds, and there’s an edge of fear in his voice. “At least, it shouldn’t be. But considering what they…what they did to Mads…” His voice cracks, and for a beat, the room goes quiet. “We can’t let the same thing happen to Karma,” he finishes finally. “We can’t.”
“And we won’t,” Storm replies a little harshly. “We’re going to find some way to stop this.” I can hear the doubt in his tone even without seeing his face, and it doesn’t exactly fill me with hope. I may be safe for the moment, but I’m sure as hell not out of the woods yet. Maybe I never will be.
“Karma is still herself,” one of the twins speaks up, although I can’t tell whether it’s Seth or Killian. “We all saw her last night. Whatever Neritous did to her, it’s not the same as what he did to Madison. Her memories are there, and she’s killing herself over what happened.”
A fresh wave of tears threatens to well up in my eyes, but I give them an aggressive wipe with my wrist before squaring my shoulders, forcing a smile onto my face, and walking into the kitchen. Mum, Peyton, Killian, Storm, and Seth are all seated around the table, the remains of their finished breakfast laid out in front of them. It’s clear they’ve been down here for a while, discussing what’s happened, and the guilty look on Peyton’s face the instant his eyes meet mine tells me what exactly they’ve spent all this time talking about. “Hey,” I say, hoping my tone comes across as upbeat. “You guys didn’t wake me up. It’s almost noon.”
The justice twins look at each other. “It was my idea,” Storm speaks up, meeting my gaze. “You were exhausted. You needed rest.”
Mum nods in agreement. “You can eat now, if you like. There’s plenty left over.”
I give her a weak nod and go pick up a dry piece of toast, biting it without really tasting it. I can feel Seth’s eyes on me from across the room, and I can tell he’s thinking about my breakdown last night. He’s worried about me, they all are, and the worst part is that I can’t think of a damn thing to say to make them feel better. The silence mounts in the kitchen until it becomes almost unbearable, and finally mum sighs, biting her lip. “Karma,” she says gently, “do you want to tell us what happened? With Neritous?”
I swallow and nod, grateful she didn’t call him my father. “He…did something to me,” I reply. “Storm…your mother, he…” I take a shaky breath. “He gave me her powers. That was all he wanted with me, was to transfer her magic to me…so that I could use it to remake the world.”
Storm’s jaw is set, the muscles in his neck tense, and I can see the justice twins struggling with the news. “And…the city?” Seth asks at last.
“He threatened Ruby,” I reply, looking down at my hands. “He was going to kill her if I didn’t cooperate. He said there would be survivors, said they would be changed, but…” I choke on the last part, shaking my head and putting a hand to my mouth.
Mum puts her arm around my shoulders, pulling me close and kissing the top of my head. “Shh, honey,” she murmurs. “I know. I know.”
I manage to pull myself together, not wanting them to see me like this, and straighten up in my seat. “Where is Ruby, by the way?” I ask, glancing around the kitchen. “Is she safe?”
“She’s in the garden,” mum replies. “She got a lot of sleep last night; she seems to be doing well. I’m glad to see you got her out safely.”
My mind briefly wanders back to Dominic, and I clench my eyes closed, not wanting to think about him or the other ones I couldn’t save. As ridiculous as it sounds, their blood feels like it’s on my hands. We can add that to the rapidly-growing list of casualties that are my fault, whether intentionally or not. The truth is, if I think too long about how many tragedies I’ve caused since Neritous’s name first appeared on my hand that day, it’s enough to drive me completely insane. “Yeah,” I say weakly. It’s the only word of agreement that I can manage. “Me too.”
As if on cue, we’re interrupted by the sound of feet on the wood floor, and an instant later, Ruby comes bounding in from the patio, breathing hard, her face red. Her hair is tangled, and I can see she’s been playing in the dirt, although I’m sure as hell not going to be the one to tell her to clean up. She deserves some time to just be a kid, seeing as she didn’t ask for any of this, either. “Karma!” she exclaims, trotting up to me, seemingly oblivious to how tousled she looks. “Your goat is amazing!”
“Michael,” comes the muffled voice of the goat in question. I peer out the bay window to see him staring in the kitchen door, looking a little put off that his newest playmate has disappeared inside the house. “My name is Michael! You red-haired devil!”
“Michael, right. Sorry,” she calls back, brushing some hair out of her face. “I’m glad you’re up, Karma. You were asleep for ages.”
“I was tired,” I admit, allowing her to come over and give me a hug. The feeling of her trusting embrace is almost too painful to bear; if things had been different, she would be the one lying dead next to the orb, or… God forbid, she could have died in the attack on San Francisco. The thought of that makes my blood run cold. Instinctively, I squeeze her a little more tightly, pulling close before I finally let her go. “I’m glad you like Michael. He’s a fun guy to have around.”
Ruby nods her agreement and then looks around the house as if she’s sizing the place up, her brow furrowed and her hand on her hip. “I like this place, too,” she declares at last, turning to look up at me. “I like you guys. Can I…” She fidgets for a moment. “Can I stay here? With you? I don’t want to go back to…him. I want to go to my mum but not if he is just going to come and take me again.”
“I know, Ruby,” I say, squatting down so I’m eye level with the little girl. We’ve known each other for less than a week, and I already feel the instinct to protect her, to keep her safe from the harsh realities of the world that I’ve been forced to learn over and over again. I can feel the others’ eyes on me: mum has the faintest of smiles on her face, as if she’s pleasantly surprised to see me this close to the kid, and the guys are watching me with a mixture of intrigue and admiration. “I’m going to do whatever I can to stop him,” I tell Ruby, putting my hands on her shoulders. “And until then, you’ll always have a place here, with us.” I glance up at mum for confirmation, and she nods without missing a beat. “I can’t hide here, though,” I add reluctantly. “Neritous is going to keep trying, and until I can stop him, none of us is safe.”
I realise there are tears in my eyes, and it’s not until I feel a hand on my shoulder that I’m able to pull my gaze away from Ruby’s innocent face. I look up to see mum looking down at me sympathetically; some seconds pass before I finally clear my throat and stand up. Mum exchanges a look with me, and there’s nothing I can do to disguise the guilt and exhaustion on my face. “Ruby,” mum says as the tension mounts, “do you want to help me in the herb patch for a while? I’ve got some potion ingredients that are almost ready to be harvested, and seeing as you’re already filthy…” Ruby blushes, and mum tousles her hair with her hand. “Don’t worry about it, sweetheart. Anyone who spends long enough out there with Michael is bound to end up covered in dirt sooner or later.”
“That sounds great, Mrs. Kismet,” Ruby replies, allowing mum to take her hand. She nods to me before leading the little girl back outside, leaving the rest of us in the kitchen.
A moment later, Peyton clears his throat. “I’m going to go check on Madison,” he announces, although the
re isn’t much hope in his expression. Without another word, he gets up, and within seconds Storm, the twins and I are the only ones left in the kitchen.
My eyes lock with Seth’s, and he looks like he’s debating bringing up my restless night, but then he seems to think better of it, breaking eye contact and running a hand through his hair. “I think…,” he says. “I think I’ll go for a walk. I need to clear my head.”
“We all do,” I agree, nodding. “Be careful.”
“Always,” Seth replies before disappearing from the room.
Storm and Killian are left to look at each other, and it’s clear that there’s some remaining tension from the fight they got into the last time we were all in close quarters. For all his fire, though, the weather god seems to realise that now isn’t the time for posturing. “Are you…,” he asks, turning to me. “Are you going to be okay, Karma?”
“Yeah, Storm,” I reply as he approaches me and puts a hand to my cheek. “I’m fine.”
His purple eyes search mine, and then he nods. “I’m going to look around and make sure we aren’t being watched.”
“That’s awfully paranoid,” Killian observes, his voice not unkind.
Storm stares at him for a moment. “Better paranoid than dead,” he replies at last before leaving the room without another word.
Killian and I are left to watch each other: me, with my hands in my pockets, feeling more dejected than I ever have, and him, arms crossed, looking like he’s not sure what to say. “So…,” he says, “nice place you’ve got here.”
I snort and roll my eyes. “Not bad when it comes to hiding from an all-powerful egomaniac,” I agree dryly. “If I had to look out the window and see a beach one more time, I think I might have finally lost it.”