Chaos Karma: Hand of Fate - Book Three

by Sharon Joss

  “What about Charlie and the rest of the decorating committee? The princesses--.”

  “They’ll be fine. They were not bitten as badly as you. More like a bee sting. It put them to sleep, but they would have woken up on their own in a few hours.”

  I breathed a sigh of relief. I was feeling better every minute, and as I took inventory, barely a scratch. I reached for my hair and stopped. “What the hell?”

  “You might want to get that worked on,” Juno said. “The girl that does my hair is fantastic.”

  “Yeah,” added Henri. “Leilani did mine too, what do you think?”

  There was something indefinable about the both of them that looked different—and it wasn’t just the haircut. Juno was wearing one of Henri’s gold earrings in his ear. And Henri looked good—better than I’d ever seen him before. A lot of the uncertainty and nervousness which had plagued him since he’d become a djenie had been replaced by a steady calmness. He looked relaxed and grounded. Not even Master Foo’s teachings had taken him this far. It suddenly dawned on me that Henri and Juno were an item.

  Well, okay then.

  “I like it,” I said, and I meant it. I was a little worried about the whole vampire-djenie thing, but now wasn’t the time to get into it.

  A sudden surge of panic shot through me. “What about the spiders?”

  Henri nodded to the row of fire trucks parked nearby. Behind them, the Grand Ballroom was fully engulfed in flames. I scrambled to my feet. Firemen with hoses stood by at the ready, but no one was doing anything.

  “They’re letting it burn to the ground,” Henri said. “Roper wants to make sure nothing survives.”

  “Oh great. Better call Fontaigne.” I’d be blamed for destroying both a historical landmark and the venue for the Spirit Ball. Miss Fate strikes again. I reached for my phone, but then remembered I’d given it to Abe.

  Henri laughed and threw his arm across my shoulders. “Not this time. You’re a hero. You saved everybody. Come on, the sheriff asked me to let him know as soon as you came around.”

  * * *

  It was still dark when we got home. Henri and the guys invited me to join them in the basement, but I told them I was wiped out. I went straight to bed and slept straight through to Saturday at noon, when Henri told me that Roper and Reynolds were downstairs waiting.

  “Give me ten minutes,” I said, and dashed for the bathroom.

  I gasped when I looked in the mirror. My beautiful long black hair was a scorched and sooty mass that looked like something a plumber pulls out of clogged drain. Soot marks smudged my chin and cheeks, and dark circles, like skid marks, rimmed my bloodshot eyes. I’d lost one of the brown contact lenses I wore to hide the yellow irises I’d inherited when I became Morta’s Hand. I looked like an alien from another world. I took out the other lens, but the effect was not improved.

  Ugly. That was the only word for it. And there was nothing I could do about it. I remembered my first reaction to meeting Madame Coumlie and how strange and frightening horrible she looked. She had killed people, and as much as I hated to admit it, so had I. More than once, I hadn’t killed Mimsy, but her death was on my shoulders. And I didn’t even feel bad about killing Felicity. That was not normal.

  Take a good look, Mattie--this is who you really are. What goes around comes around.

  Karma is a bitch.

  I blinked back the tears of self-pity. There’s no mercy in the cold light of a 100-watt light bulb. The choices I’d made when I agreed to be the Hand of Fate were right there for everyone to see. I had no idea the price I would have to pay would be my true self. Mattie Blackman was dead. I couldn’t even recognize myself anymore. I turned away from the reflection, promising myself I wouldn’t look in the mirror again.

  In the shower, I hacked off the rest of my remaining hair with my hand shears. I wrapped myself in a towel and went into Henri’s room to steal a pair of his shorts and a tee shirt. I really needed some new clothes.

  Reynolds and Roper were in the parlor, with a third man I didn’t recognize. Reynolds and the guy in the suit looking uncomfortably stiff on the old camelback sofa, while Roper stared out the front window at the kids playing across the street. Both looked relieved to see me, even as they stared like they’ve never seen me before. I guess the real me was a bit too much for them. Self-consciously, I ran my fingers through my still-wet hair, despairing how little was left. I lifted my chin and told myself I didn’t care.

  Reynolds introduced the third man as Assistant District Attorney David Redfern.

  “Howya doing, Mattie?” Reynolds asked, while Roper cocked his head at me his gaze settling on my blackened hand.

  When I’d found Roper the previous night and thanked him for saving my life, he hadn’t said a word—just swept me up in a huge bear hug that just about cracked a rib, before stalking off to talk to the fire chief. Reynolds told me Roper had been the one who’d beat the fire out of me. He’d been certain I was already dead before we’d gotten out of the building.

  “I’m good.” I gave him a perky smile I didn’t feel and held up my hand. “Doctor says this will fade in time. Doesn’t even hurt.”

  Reynolds looked as if he wanted to say something, but thought the better of it. “Glad to hear it. We’ve just got a few details we need straighten out.” He gestured to the portable tape recorder, sitting on the coffee table.

  “Don’t worry,” Redfern chimed in. “You’re not in trouble, Mattie. The Sheriff here and the FBI have both convinced me that your actions were pretty heroic. You save a great many lives. We’re not going to be filing any charges against you. You have my word.”

  So I told them everything.

  Well, not everything, exactly. But most of it. Not the part about Lou Scali or the part about Jim Brunson being a dhampir. Actually, I didn’t even mention Brunson. Or the vampires. Or Kid Harsh and the feud. And not the part about having a key to Killer Dave's or the piranhas. No point in saying anything about any of that, really. I mean, a girl has gotta have some secrets.

  And definitely not the horrible part about Luçien Bold and what he did to me or how he almost did that other thing that I didn’t even want to think about and how the thought of him or any man ever touching me again made me feel like throwing up. Or how the water in the tank turned red as the piranhas swarmed over him and the feeling of savage joy that filled me as I was forced to watch them tear him apart. Or the feeling of satisfaction I got when I dropped the lighter and the flames raced across the spider webs and the baby spiders started screaming.

  No. I would never tell anyone about any of those things. Besides, all they had to do was look at me and they’d see it in my face.

  “After Abe Leightner called the 911 dispatch, he found Agent Roper’s phone number in your directory and called him.” Sheriff Reynolds explained “He said you’d been asking questions about spiders and thought there might be a possible tarantula infestation in the ballroom at the amusement park. Agent Roper got hold of me, and I called the zoo’s crypto-vet and told him to bring every kind of antivenin he had. By the time I got there, the victims had already been removed from the building, and Roper had gone back for you. Five minutes later, the whole attic went up in flames, and Roper came out with you on fire, looking like he’d seen a ghost.”

  Roper gave me a wan smile, but said nothing.

  Five hours later, we were done, and the whole time, Roper never said a word. The sun was heading toward the horizon by that time, so Henri and I went out to the front porch to watch the sunset. There was a package addressed to me lying on the old porch swing.

  No return address. I looked at Henri, who was grinning like an idiot. “What’s this?”

  He shook his head. “I have been sworn to secrecy. Open it.”

  Inside, I found a handwritten note, taped to tissue paper:

  Dear Mattie,

  Thank you so much for intervening with Jimmy on our behalf. All is well, and on behalf of Enrique and I, and the entire Orpheus comm
unity, you have our deepest gratitude.

  I’ve made the Hand of Fate’s gala gown every year since the very beginning. After meeting you, I was inspired to make this small offering. If you haven’t already purchased a dress for the gala, I hope this one will suffice.

  With kind regards,

  Neldene

  I tore at the tissue paper, then gasped when I saw the shimmery silver fabric. Soft to the touch. It glimmered like eelskin. I lifted it out of the box by the shoulders, holding it up in front of me so Henri could see it too.

  Sleek and sleeveless, the dress was cut like a tee-shirt with a simple ballet neckline and a slit on one side. Perfect.

  I put it back in the box and covered it with tissue. “Too bad I can’t wear this.”

  “Don’t say that,” Henri rose and took the box from me. “I gave her one of your bras and a pair of your panties, so it should fit perfect.”

  “What?” So that’s where they disappeared to. “Henri, you can’t just go around giving away people’s underwear. Besides, it doesn’t matter now, the Spirit Ball is cancelled. The ballroom is gone. Burned up. Phfft.”

  “They moved the location. They’re holding it outside, along the lakeshore.”

  “I can’t go. I can’t—can’t face all those people.” I hated the whiny sound of my voice.

  “Yes you can. The gala isn’t like the other events of Spirit Week. It’s invitation only. For the supernatural community. No humans allowed. You’re the Hand of Fate, Mattie. This is your night and you’re going.” The expression on his face was one I’d never seen before. Authoritative. Determined.

  “It doesn’t matter. I’m not going. I look...”

  At that moment a battered black Subaru station wagon roared up to the front of the house. A young woman with shaggy purple hair got out and walked up to the porch, carrying a canvas satchel. She gave a little wave to Henri, and held out her hand to me, her eyes looking me up and down. Her smile was warm and genuine. “I’m Leilani. I’ll be doing your hair and makeup.”

  They wouldn’t take no for an answer. Leilani sat me down in the kitchen and proceeded to sort out the ruin of my hair for an hour. Tentatively, I touched the results, secretly horrified. There was hardly anything left at all.

  “You have a beautiful skull,” Leilani assured me.

  She held up the mirror, but I couldn’t bear to look. I turned my head away. “I know what I look like.”

  She took me upstairs to the bathroom to do my makeup. This time, she didn’t ask about the mirror, and I was grateful.

  At the bottom of the dress box, there was a pair of sandals with narrow straps that criss-crossed up my calves. I had to admit, they were pretty fabulous. And when Leilani slid Neldene’s dress over my head and smoothed it down my body, I forgave Henri for giving away my undies. I could tell by the feel of it, the fit was perfect. I felt slim and sleek, and that was good enough.

  Henri, looking very sharp in a tuxedo, knocked on the door to my room. He whistled when he saw me. “You look…” He shook his head, but he was smiling. “Amazing. Your escort is waiting downstairs.”

  A stab of panic surged through me. What was I thinking? “No. This was a mistake. I’m not going out there. I’m not going to go and make a fool of myself. Help me get this thing off,” I said to Leilani. “I can’t do this.” I caught the horrified expression on Leilani’s face. “I’m sorry.”

  Without a word, Henri took me by my elbow and steered me downstairs anyway.

  I don’t know what I was expecting, but when I saw Lou Scali standing in the parlor in a tux and tails, all the tension went out of me. Lou was a good guy.

  I grinned in spite of myself. “Looking pretty sharp there, Lou.”

  He beamed at me. “You clean up pretty good yourself, Chili-fry.” I hardly even flinched when he put the flower corsage around my blackened wrist.

  Juno and the rest of the band had already left, so Henri and I squeezed into Lou’s Subaru and headed over to the amusement park.

  On the way, Lou confirmed he’d been the one who’d called in the tip about the body in the ice house. “I was parked in the parking lot next door, waiting for a client, and this car drove up with two people inside. It was too far away to see their faces or get a license plate. The passenger got out and lifted something out of the trunk wrapped in a tarp. He was a little guy, but he carried that thing as if it weighed nothing. He was in and out of the building less than two minutes. I was pretty sure it was another body, but I had no idea it was Mel. I’m sorry Mattie. I know he was a friend of yours.”

  “Yeah. I’m going to miss him.”

  “Me too.”

  CHAPTER 27

  We arrived at Heavenly Shores just before midnight. The authorities had closed the park after the fire, but the parking lot was packed with cars. Henri, Lou, and I walked beneath an arbor lit by tiny twinkle lights leading to the lakeshore.

  I paused at the crest of the path, admiring the scene before me. Yellow lights had been strung around the trunks and through the branches every tree and light post along the shore. Overhead, the beautiful white moon cast silver reflections across every ripple on the lake. Someone had brought in truckloads of clean sand to widen the beach , and hundreds of people were dancing barefoot to the rockin’ sockin’ sounds of Juno Rockover and the New Rogues. As I gazed out over the happy group, I even caught sight of demon or two, and several creatures that were obviously not mortals of this plane.

  It hit me then that all of the costumes I’d seen throughout the week might not have been worn by humans in cosplay. No shit.

  I leaned over and gave Henri a peck on the cheek. “Thank you,” I whispered. “For making me come. For everything.”

  “Thank goodness you’re here,” a voice from behind me said. “And your timing is perfect.” It was Neldene, dressed in midnight blue sequins, flanked by Enrique and Mayor Jim Brunson, both in white tie.

  Brunson grinned. “Wouldn’t be a proper Spirit Ball without you, Mattie.”

  Enrique took my hand and raised it to his lips. “You look very beautiful tonight.”

  Yeah, right.

  A sudden spotlight hit the four of us, and the band stopped playing. Everyone turned to look at us.

  My heart pounded, and I reached for my hair, but with the spotlight on us, there was nowhere to hide.

  “Don’t worry,” Neldene whispered, “Everyone knows what happened. You’re a hero, Mattie.”

  Enrique led the way down the gentle slope to the lakeshore, and with both Neldene and Mayor Brunson behind me, I had no choice but to follow. As we approached the silent crowd, people on either side moved back, opening a path to the stage. I saw a few faces I recognized, like Charlie Crimmer and Mimsy’s mother, Mrs. Wu. Everyone was smiling at me, and as we passed through the audience, someone started to clap.

  The applause moved through the crowd like a wave, growing louder was we approached the stage. I bit my lips to hold back the tears. The cheering started as Enrique helped me up the steps to the microphone. There were even a few were-wolf howls. Everyone laughed, but it was okay.

  Enrique gave a short speech of welcome and went on to describe the passing of Celeste Coumlie and about how wonderful it was to embrace the new Hand of Fate outside under the full moon, just like they’d done in the old days. There was some embarrassing stuff in there about single-handedly destroying the dream spiders and saving lives, but that was about it.

  Then Megan, the girl with the turquoise blue hair from the float, who’d been pulled out of the spider lair by Juno and Henri, came up and presented me with a beautiful bouquet of dark pink roses. I pretty much lost it right there.

  Enrique motioned me to the microphone, and asked me to say a few words I managed to mumble my thanks for the warm welcome, but that was all I had. Fortunately, Juno and the gang were right there, and the music started right back up. I was free.

  I spent the next ten minutes wading through the crowd, accepting congratulations from strangers, and lookin
g for a bathroom. When I finally found it, the women in line all applauded, told me I looked great, and insisted I move to the front of the line. They applauded even louder when I flushed the toilet.

  Yeah, good times.

  The band was really building up a head of steam, and everyone was having too much fun to pay much attention to me. With the pressure off, I headed toward the food table, wondering what kind of appetizers they might be serving.

  A man stepped into the path in front of me. His green eyes glittered in that special way that always made my heart beat faster.

  “Hello, beautiful.”

  Rhys.

  THE END

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Award-winning author Sharon Joss writes science fiction, fantasy and horror. She is the author of six novels, including the Aurum, Brothers of the Fang, and the supernatural alternate history thriller, Steam Dogs. In 2015, she won the Writers of the Future Golden Pen award for speculative fiction with her novella, Stars That Make Dark Heaven Light. She lives amid a thicket of blackberry vines in Oregon and writes full-time. Find out more about her and her books by going to www.sharonjoss.com

  AUTHOR'S NOTE

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  Look for the next volume in the Hand of Fate series, coming in 2016