by G. Bailey
Imprisoned Gods
The Secret Gods Prison Series
G. Bailey
Contents
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Description
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Epilogue
Note From The Author.
Description of Runes of Truth
32. Bonus Read
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About the Author
Imprisoned Gods © 2020 G. Bailey
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
All Rights Reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or used in any manner without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This eBook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient.
Previously published as A Name Like Karma.
Edits by Helayna Trask
Cover Design by Mirela Barbu.
Created with Vellum
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Her Guardians Series
Her Fate Series
Protected By Dragons Series
Lost Time Academy Series
The Demon Academy Series
Dark Angel Academy Series
Shadowborn Academy Series
Dark Fae Paranormal Prison Series
Saved By Pirates Series
The Marked Series
Holly Oak Academy Series
The Alpha Brothers Series
A Demon’s Fall Series
The Familiar Empire Series
From The Stars Series
The Forest Pack Series
The Secret Gods Prison Series
For all those who believe in karma. What goes around, comes around.
Description
Gods can’t escape their fate...but they can try to run.
My name is Karma and I’m a goddess.
But not a very good one according to, well, everyone.
Between accidental mishaps on the job, the talking family goat, and a necklace full of dangerous charms…trouble was always going to find me.
But I never expected to be locked away in the gods' correction prison for accidentally killing a higher god.
Which is literally the only rule gods have.
Between the sexy justice god twins who want me locked away and a storm god who holds too many secrets in his dark eyes, prison isn’t all that bad.
Until fate catches up with me…and there is nowhere to hide.
Imprisoned Gods is a full length 80,000+ words Urban Fantasy RH Romance. RH means where there is more than one love interest. Book one of Three. 17+.
1
After pushing my best friends shoulder, shouting her name and even playing loud music, she still snores like I’m not here. Time to bring out the big cards then. Filling a glass with water, I walk back to her and slowly drop a little bit on her face. I chuckle as she coughs like I just attempted to drown her or something, letting out a tiny scream and rolling off the side of her single bed, pulling the red sheets off with her.
“Karma, have you lost your god damn mind?!” she shouts, huffing and puffing as she sits up, wiping her face.
“You told me to do it! Remember?” I say, reminding her of what she asked me yesterday. “ ‘If I don’t wake up for the job interview, you have full permission to pour ice cold water over my face to get my lazy ass up,’ ” I mimic her voice as she still glares at me.
“Did you even try to wake me up the normal way?” she asks as she stands up, picking up her bedsheets as she does.
“Nope, but I have coffee,” I say, knowing that will distract her into forgiving me. I’m pretty sure my bestie, Mads, has been addicted to coffee since I’ve known her. We met in school when we were both eight years old. Mads grins, running past me to the cup of coffee in the travel mug on her counter. She sighs as she takes a long sip and then goes to grab a towel.
“Why is this job interview so feckin’ important?” I ask her, sitting on her messy bed as she towel dries her hair.
“Unlike some people, we don’t all live rent free in our parents’ house and have no job, Karma,” she sarcastically states, though I know she doesn’t mean it in a nasty way. I do have a job, not one that she could ever find out about though. I couldn’t even imagine telling Mads I’m a goddess of karma and get paid in pure gold to deliver karma to the world. I also don’t think she would believe me if I said I hide my box of gold at the end of a rainbow, as rainbows are the safest bank storage in the magical world. Don’t even get me started on how protective our family leprechaun is. My mum went all literal by naming me what my family’s job is. My brothers all have normal names, but oh no, mum and dad had to choose Karma for me. I’m named after my great ancestor, the original karma goddess.
“I will get a job, you know, when I run out of money,” I say, which will be never because being a karma god is a job I will have to do until I die. The higher gods make sure we are well paid though, better than any human job could pay us, to make sure we would never leave our work. I know there have been gods and goddesses who have left—or tried to—only to find themselves thrown into the gods’ correctional facility. I shudder. That place is worse than any nightmare a god of dreams could give you.
“You are so lucky,” she says with a longing sigh, disappearing into her wardrobe to get dressed. Mads doesn’t have family, and her foster parents let her runaway to Dublin at fifteen, and they never looked for her. She kept in contact with me though, only as I wouldn’t let her just disappear on me. Decent friends are hard to come by and even better if they don’t ask too many questions like her. Mads has worked a million jobs to keep her tiny studio flat and food on her table, and I admire her for it. I really hope she gets the job today; I know there isn’t much food in her fridge, and she won’t let me help her out with money. I push my curly, waist-length red hair behind my ear as I stand up and go to the mirror as I wait for her. I glance down at my black leather leggings and black vest top that shows a little bit of my stomach off.
“You still look like a sexy Irish Barbie doll, don’t worry,” Mads jokes, and I turn to grin at her, seeing her smart work uniform that suits her curves, long blonde hair which she has pulled up into a bun. We are both Irish, though somehow Mads has a stronger accent than I do, and her curse word list is pretty impressively mixed between British and Irish words.
“Coming from t
he actual Barbie doll with big boobs,” I reply, because she damn well looks like one of those little feckers she used to steal from me as a kid. “Though you look great, and you will be fine today.”
“What are your plans for today?” she asks, and I glance down at my hand, seeing the name John Markson in black ink tattooed on the back. I flip my hand over, seeing the black Celtic circle knot in my palm, which when touched will take me to wherever John Markson is so I can deliver his karma. When the ink is black, it’s my favourite kind of karma to deliver. The bad kind. Usually I ignore the ones that are gold, because I’m not the type to give good things to people all the time. My brothers and parents are much better at those jobs.
“I have a date with a John Markson,” I say as honestly as I can. It won’t be a date, more of a bad surprise depending on what I can sense he hates the most. It will be funny either way.
“Sounds like fun,” she says, winking at me before grabbing her bag and leaving her apartment. I turn my hand over and press the mark, disappearing into a puff of green dust.
2
When I reappear, shaking the green dust off my clothes, I look around at the street that I’m in. Each house is a good distance apart and filled with massive mansions protected by big metal gates stopping anyone from getting in. I’m taking a wild guess the house right in front of me is my guy, judging by the fact it is the biggest on the row. Usually, rich guys need a good dose of bad karma because they are born dickheads. That isn’t always the case, but years of this job have taught me those born with a silver spoon in their mouths tend to think they can do what they want with no consequences.
I walk across the street, pull the mailbox in the brick wall open, and look for a name on the letters inside. John Markson. Perfect. I shove the letters back in before going to the gate and pulling my necklace out of my top. I flip past the lucky charms until I find the magic key charm and press the key against the metal gate. It glows purple for a second before the gate swings open. This is going to be easy. I love my lucky charm necklace; there is not much that my charms can’t do. Each charm was a birthday gift from my parents over the years. The important ones are on my necklace, and the less important ones are on an ankle bracelet of mine. All twenty of them have been useful somehow over the years, or they have got me into trouble somehow. Either way, my necklace keeps things fun.
I walk up the expansive driveway, admiring the flower beds that my mum would adore. I pass some very nice cars that I have no idea what they are, but man, would one of my brothers love them. I jog up the rest of the driveway, which is straight uphill, and I'm out of breath by the time I get to the top of it. Maybe I should go to some of those cardio classes with Mads. I straighten up once I get my breath back and look at the posh manor house. There is loud music coming from inside, and two motorbikes are parked outside the house in pride position. Clearly this guy loves his bikes, maybe his fear is they get stolen or something. I could make them disappear for sure.
I walk up to the front door and turn the handle to find that it is open. That’s some good luck right there. I try not to whistle as I sneak into the white tiled entrance hall and see the white walls with a surfboard hanging on the wall by the stairs. The place is posh, like the kind of house a celebrity would live in. Everything from the vase of vivid flowers in the middle of the entrance hall to the art deco painting of a beach on the one wall makes me think this guy has a lot of money.
I follow the noise of the music and pause outside a closed door, knowing I don’t need to make him aware I’m here. Sometimes it is better to get a feel for the karma I need to deliver rather than actually working out if the person is a good guy or not. I close my eyes, calling on my karma powers to sense if the guy I want is in there and what exactly he is scared of. It doesn't take more than a second to feel him close, close enough for his deepest fear to slip into my mind. I get an image of bees, dozens of bees attacking a child that I bet was him when he was younger. Well, this should be funny. Bees are highly intelligent insects, and I like them. They won’t attack you unless you piss them off first or attack their home. Luckily, there is another way to get them to attack someone. I flip through my charms, finding the animal calling one which looks like a fox, and grin. A swarm of bees is pretty bad karma if you are scared of them. I lift the charm to my lips and press a kiss onto the silver metal.
"I call a swarm of bees to help me in my time of need. A man is due a karma kiss. Come to me, it is my only wish," I finish off my call, and the charm glows a bright green before rapidly fading. Thank god I'm good at rhyming, considering half the charms will only work with a rhyme for some odd reason. I'm pretty sure it's because my parents got the charms second hand at a magic stall at the magical market. Though we have money that would be considered a good amount for humans, it is pennies to the rest of the magical world. We are on what they call minimum wage that simple gods and goddesses like us get paid to make the world keep going, but it is a hell of a lot of money. I cross my arms, leaning against the side of the door as I listen to his god awful choice in music. It’s now time to wait for my handiwork to play out. Usually the bees don’t take too long to get here, and my family will be hella impressed that I did a job without messing it up as usual.
I freeze as the door opens in front of me, and a man walks out, holding a pair of keys in his hand. Crap, this is my guy, and there is no way I can let him get in a car right now, but I also can’t explain why I’m in his house. I wait until he walks out the door before running after him, pushing the door open and jogging outside to see him get on the back of a motorbike. Double shite. That little eegit is going to get himself killed…and I will get the bloody blame.
"Stop!" I shout, but the sound of his engine’s revving hides my shout, and he speeds off down the road. I glance over at the spare bike resting on the side and know I don't have a choice at this point. I need to catch up with him and make sure he is on the ground when those bees come. I can't let another guy get way without bad karma because he is too injured, and then have to call my family for help. A swarm of bees attacking him while he is on a bike is only going to cause a big problem for me.
I run to the bike, swinging my leg over it, and turn the key. Thank god for that bad boy dating stage I had at eighteen. Darren, the dickface, as I decided to name him, may have slept with my science teacher, but at least he taught me how to ride his bike before I found out. I quickly speed down the driveway, just sliding through the closing doors before they shut on me. That might have hurt otherwise. The wind whips against my ears, no doubt making my hair more wavy and messy. I swing the bike to the left, turning down the street where I can see John disappearing into the distance. I speed up, trying to chase him as he heads onto another road and disappears around a corner.
I speed around the corner of the empty road just in time to see a swarm of bees fly straight into John on the bike. The helmet does little to hide his pure panic as the swarm attacks him. He screams and lets go of the handles of the bike to no doubt pull the helmet off where the bees must have gotten inside. The bike rapidly turns, heading straight into a barrier of the cliff. Like it’s a damn movie, everything slows as John is flung off the bike as it crashes into the barrier, and he goes flying into the air over the very large and steep cliff. I slam on the brakes on my bike in a panic, letting it fall to the ground as I set off running to the barrier, expecting to see a flat and very dead John at the bottom of the cliff. I breathe out a sigh of relief when instead I see John holding onto a branch, hanging over a very dirty looking pond at the bottom of the cliff. It’s one hell of a drop, though. Poor John is having a very bad day.
"HELP!" he screams at me. “Please help me!”
"Yep, I'm coming!" I shout back at him, climbing onto the barrier and getting to the other side. I pull my charms out, finding the one for rope. It’s a plain flat circle, but if you look closely, you can see the never ending rope that is tied inside it. I shake the circle sphere a few times, pretending that John’s screams aren’t g
etting louder and more desperate. I glance down at him, seeing his beefy arms that make his head look ridiculously small in comparison. It’s okay, he can hold himself up for sure. The sphere spreads out into a bigger flat circle after a few shakes. I reach into the silver shimmering liquid inside the circle to pull out a long piece of magic rope that will never end. John continues to scream, like that is helping anybody, as I tie the rope to the barrier and the other part around my waist.
"For the love of gods, can you be quiet? I need a moment of silence to talk myself into this as I don't like heights," I shout to John, who doesn't seem to care one bit as he continues to scream. I shake my head, wondering why I'm bothering when I could leave the douchebag to fall into the pond. It looks deep enough for him survive the fall. Possibly. No, I’m the better person, and I can’t just walk away from this when I’m pretty sure this is all my fault. Or at least that is how my family will see it when they find out. I turn myself around while muttering about how high the drop is before forcing myself to start walking down the rocks, lowering myself on the rope as I go. I don't know how long it is before I get near John, and he straightaway grabs my ankle. The grip is so strong that I cry out from his weight.
