Karma

by Nadine Nightingale

  “The little girl said the witch promised to stop him, but only if she called the cops,” said the 911 operator who responded to Jamie’s emergency call.

  According to the responding officers, Jamie was safe and sound when they arrived. James McKenzie claimed his daughter had watched a horror film that scared and confused her.

  McKenzie’s wife was admitted to the local hospital after suffering a mental breakdown. Jamie McKenzie is now with her grandparents.

  “Our prayers are with his family. James was a hero, and we will all miss him,” said his neighbor Charles Kenwood, 64.

  I push the newspaper away. The ankh tattoo burning like a newly-burned brand, I face Alex. “Sounds like the son of a bitch got what he deserved.”

  “Did you kill him?” His grip tightens around my wrist.

  “Would you believe me if I said no?”

  Alex shrugs. “Try me.”

  I wrench free from his grip. “I didn’t kill the bastard. Happy? Are we done now?”

  Alex runs a hand through his messy, dark brown hair and sighs. “Try again.”

  Taking a deep breath, I turn to Papa Bear, who’s eagerly eavesdropping while polishing his glasses with a filthy towel. “More bourbon, please.” Papa Bear is about to pour when I stop him. “Know what? Just pass me the bottle.” I need more than a glass to handle jerk-face. The old fella looks a bit startled, but he does what every good bartender would do—he serves.

  “Amanda,” Alex says impatiently.

  “Alex,” I mock him.

  His eyes grow darker. Balling his hands into fists, he closes the gap between us. “Last chance. Did you, or did you not, kill the fuckin’ mayor?”

  “Why does everyone think I’m some kind of assassin? I mean, I get it. I totally rock the Scarlett Johansson slash I’m-a-super-sexy-absolutely-lethal-Russian-spy look, but dude, I’m a professional liar, not a serial killer.” I take a large sip of the fiery liquid, hoping it’ll drown the anger building inside me. I don’t even know why Alex’s accusations bug me. By now, I should be used to it. Let’s face it. I would never have come this far if I had given shit about other people’s opinions, so why the fuck should I care about Alex’s?

  “That’s my point,” he says. “You’re a liar. Nothing you’ve ever said is true, so why should I believe you now?”

  I know exactly to what he’s referring, but no way in hell I’m going there. I’m done playing his games. With the grace of a ballerina, I rise from the barstool.

  “Where do you think you’re going?” His rich voice echoes through the empty tavern.

  “I have a bus to catch, Alex. So if you’re not here to kill me, you’ll have to excuse me.” I wink at Papa Bear and walk toward the double doors when two strong hands grab my shoulders and yank me backward.

  What the fuck? I spin around, heart racing. “Dude, are you off your meds, or did you finally lose your weed virginity?”

  Hands still on my shoulders, he keeps me from bolting. “We had a deal,” Alex hisses.

  “Ah, I didn’t violate any of your stupid rules, because I didn’t kill the fuckin’ mayor.” I roll my eyes as a dry laugh parts my lips. “You can’t sincerely believe I would jeopardize my own life for a spoiled brat. Dude, you of all people should know me better than that.”

  Alex pulls me close. His hot breath tingles on my skin. “You’re right, Amanda. I do know you. So tell me, how much did they pay you?”

  “Screw you!” I try to break free, but Alex won’t let go.

  He digs his fingers into my soft skin. “I knew you couldn’t be trusted. I should have never let you walk.”

  “Now what? Are you going to burn me at the stake?” Mental note: learn to keep your mouth shut. I bet he has a supply of green wood in his trunk.

  A crooked smile tugging at his lips, he releases me. “You have no idea how badly I want to see you burn, but I’m not here to kill you.”

  What? “You didn’t come because of the article?”

  “Nope.” Alex steps back. His shoulders sink, and for the very first time since he walked into this shithole of a bar, his gaze drops.

  This ain’t good. Whatever it is that haunts him changes his aura into a dark blue mess. Meaning, he’s scared of the truth. “What’s going on, Alex?”

  Alex’s eyes drift to Papa Bear. Judging from the look on the old fella’s wrinkled face, I’d say the Salty Dog Tavern has never seen more action. “I need your help,” Alex whispers.

  Wow. Did Alexander Remington really just ask for my help? I bet hell just froze over.

  “It’s Jesse. I think he’s in trouble.” He sounds desperate.

  “What kinda trouble are we talking about?”

  He arches a brow. “Careful, Manda. One might think you actually care.”

  The truth is I do care about Jesse. He’s like the little brother I never wanted. Plus, if it wasn’t for him, I’d be dead by now. Alex would have killed me the day he found out I was a witch. I narrow my eyes at him. “Where is he, Alex?”

  “He was working a case in California, and I haven’t heard from him in days.”

  “He was working a case alone? Why?” This situation got weirder and weirder. Jesse and Alex are inseparable, and even though Alex is a complete jerk when it comes to me, he’d never let his brother work a case on his own. Can’t say I blame him. Working for the Paranormal Analysis Unit of the FBI, hunting down all sorts of evil, is a dangerous gig. Hunters don’t always come out on top.

  Alex frowns. “If we’re done with the Q&A session, I’d like to go. It’s a long way to California.”

  My jaw drops to the cockroach-inhabited floor. “Are you fuckin’ insane? California? I have a bus ticket to New York and a freakin’ dorm room at New York State University waiting for me.”

  Alex’s burst into laughter. “NYU? You?”

  Crossing my arms, I close the gap between us. “What’s that supposed to mean, jerk?”

  “Nothing.” Covering his mouth with one hand, he tries to hide the mischievous grin that’s curling his full lips. “Just didn’t know they offered degrees in witchcraft.”

  Enough is enough. I sucker punch him in the ribs and walk toward the door when I hear a metallic clicking. I know that sound too damn well. “Put that gun down, son before you shoot someone,” Papa Bear croaks.

  My back still turned toward Alex, I shake my head in disbelief. “Really? You’re going to shoot me in the back? That’s pretty low even for you, Alex.”

  I feel the vibration in the wooden floor as he approaches me. “It’s either California or a bullet to your brain. Your choice.”

  The air around me is chilly and thick. Papa Bear murmurs something, but I can’t hear him. I’m too busy concentrating on my heartbeat. It’s slow, but steady. Hand pressed against the door, I close my eyes and consider my options. Option number one: I ignore the gun pointed to my head and walk out. Most definitely get shot in the head and end up in a body bag next to the mayor’s corpse. Option number two: I lose my room at NYU and help Alex find Jesse. Probably get killed in the process and end up in a body bag next to some Californian Barbie. Either way I’m screwed. Alex isn’t the pretentious type. He’d shoot me in an instant. He’s been waiting for this opportunity for way too long.

  ****

  Minutes passed, but he didn’t say a word. He didn’t have to. I felt the disappointment, and disgust running through his veins.

  “Are you going to kill me, Alex?” I said with a charming grin.

  “You’re a witch. A freaking witch.”

  Jesse took a step toward his furious brother. “She’s your girlfriend, dude.”

  “I’m not his girlfriend,” I said.

  “She’s not my girlfriend,” he agreed.

  Jesse gave me the shut-the-fuck-up-I’m-trying-to-save-your-dumb-ass look and rested a hand on his brother’s shoulder. “Put that gun down, Alex. I know you don’t want to kill her.”

  The air grew cold. “She’s a witch, Jesse. A goddamn witch.” His aura
revealed a tornado of emotions. Muddy red, dark brownish-yellow, and charcoal swirled around him.

  I got it; he was angry, stressed, and unforgiving. He felt betrayed. But what about me? He never told me he was a hunter. Never mentioned his job was to kill my kind. Granted, I had sensed it the second I laid eyes on him, but that didn’t change the fact he, too, was a liar.

  “You wanna shoot me?” I barked. “Then do it.”

  Alex’s eyes widened. “You think I won’t?” He sounded shocked.

  “Shut up, Amanda!” Jesse hissed through gritted teeth before moving between Alex and me. “You banged her, and now you want to whack her, dude? You can’t be serious!”

  I thoroughly enjoyed the Alex Horror Picture Show, but it was time to get this over with. “You guys don’t get it, do ya? I don’t care if he shoots me or not. We all have to die one day, and it could be worse than taking a bullet from a hunter.”

  Alex’s finger rested on the trigger.

  Jesse desperately tried to talk some sense into him. “Don’t do it, man. You’ll regret this.”

  “She killed a man, Jesse.”

  Whoa! What? “Are you insane? I ain’t killed nobody.”

  Alex’s laughter echoed through the old house. “Right. Let me guess. A gremlin carved the sigil into the guy’s chest after he slaughtered him like a pig.”

  My ankh tattoo burned like hell as I tried to make sense of his accusation. “Are you delusional or something?” My gaze darted to Jesse. “Seriously, what the hell is he talking about?”

  The gun still pointed at me, he grabbed a few pictures from the table and threw them at me. “Recognize him?”

  Shit, Mister Sinister? Damn, I had seen crime scene photos before, but this was a scene straight out of a Wes Craven horror flick. The pictures looked like a canvas of crimson red. Mister Sinister was positioned on a bed, his body twisted in an unnatural way. Eyes wide open, his expression reflected pure horror, and carved into his chest was a sigil I had never seen before.

  I faced Jesse because there was no point talking to Alex right now. “Listen, I am a witch, a liar, and most of the time, a stab-worthy bitch, but I’ve never killed anyone in my entire life.” I paused for a moment to study Jesse’s expression, and when I realized he believed me, I continued. “Jesus, I’m a vegetarian.”

  Slowly, Jesse reached for Alex’s gun. “I believe her.”

  Alex raised a brow at his brother. “Because you want to believe her.”

  “And you don’t?”

  “I want the truth, Jess. If she killed him, I’ll kill her. End of story.”

  His attitude started to piss me off. “The guy was a first-class jerk, but I did not end his life. Understood?”

  I knew nothing would change Alex’s opinion about me, but Jesse believed me. I saw it in his eyes. “Let her go, Alex.”

  Alex’s finger moved away from the trigger, then back to it. Away, then back. His dark blue aura turned red, then gray, and eventually back to blue. As if he mentally counted daisies; I’ll kill her, I’ll kill her not.

  ****

  “Amanda!” His hoarse voice snaps me out of my trance-like state, and the memory fades into oblivion.

  I sigh. “Yes, Alex?”

  He presses the barrel of his Beretta against my back. “What’s it gonna be?”

  Careful not to make any sudden movements, I turn and give him my best fake smile. “I’ll help you find your brother, but once this is done, I never want to see you again. Do I make myself clear?”

  Alex puts the gun down and opens the door for me. “Crystal. Now move.”

  Awesome. I love choices where you come out the loser either way. Bye bye, New York. Hello, hell.

  Chapter 3

  Merging onto Interstate 70, we are about to enter Indiana. It’s only been a few hours, but I already have pins and needles in my legs. I hate road trips. Especially the ones where the driver abducts you and the whole scenario has Stockholm syndrome written all over it. “It’s a fucking forty-one-hour trip, Alex. Why couldn’t we fly? You know, like normal people.”

  Alex’s eyes are fixed on the road. By now, he’d mastered the art of ignoring me. I have to admit his stubbornness is sort of impressive. There aren’t many people who can ignore me.

  Jeez, eighteen months ago he couldn’t ignore me.

  Understatement of the year; he couldn’t take his freaking eyes off me. But now that he knows what I am, it’s easy for him to turn a deaf ear to the supernatural abomination next to him.

  Letting my head fall against the black leather seat, I enjoy the last rays of the warm sun as Steven Tyler’s rough voice quavers “Crying.” I love this song. I reach for the radio, intending to turn up the volume.

  Alex shoots me a killer look. “Hands off my radio,” he orders, sounding like a drill sergeant.

  Is he serious? “Dude, you pointed a gun at my back, dragged me on a fuckin’ cross-country trip without telling me what’s really going on, and holding me hostage, and now I can’t even turn up the volume on the radio?”

  Jerk-face keeps his eyes on the road, pretending I don’t exist.

  Red-hot, bitter anger flushes my system. Who does he think I am, one of his damn groupies who wets her panties when she hears his rich, deep voice? Yeah, wrong girl, pal. I am Amanda Bishop. No one messes with me, and no one ignores me. I grab the steering wheel and jerk it to the right. Bet he didn’t see this one coming.

  “What the fuck?” he yells, trying to keep his baby under control. “Let go, Amanda!”

  But I don’t.

  The Mustang swerves from one side to the other until the jarring sound of brakes howls through the black beauty, and it comes to a halt.

  Murder on his face, Alex glares at me. “Do you have a death wish or something?” It’s the first time he’s actually looked at me.

  Mission accomplished.

  Putting a hand on my hip, I grin. “Just don’t like to be ignored.” I pause and straighten. “Now, dude. You’ve got two seconds to tell me what the hell is going on with Jesse, or I will get out of this car and hitch a ride to New York. Fuck, I’ll walk if I have to.”

  Alex reaches for the Beretta in his waistband, a hint of a smile in his eyes. “I’m going to—”

  I hold my hand up Beyoncé-style. “What? Shoot me?” I laugh. “Go ahead; because I swear to God, it’ll be the only way to keep me in this goddamn car.”

  His gaze roams my face, and when he realizes I’m serious, he bites his totally kissable lower lip.

  “Kinda sucks when you’re out of options, hm?” My voice is impregnated with victory.

  He eyeballs his skinned knuckles and lets out a sharp breath. “All right, a couple of weeks ago, Jesse heard about a bocor in Bakersfield. Word on the street was the guy could break contracts. I told him to stay away from him, but you know Jesse. He just doesn’t listen. Took off while I was sleeping, and I haven’t heard from him since. No call. No message. Nothing.”

  Jesse ran off to see a voodoo priest? Talk about a death wish. “What contracts are we talking about?”

  Alex frowns as his features tense. “The ‘I sold my soul’ kind.”

  My stomach drops to the ground. “Jesse didn’t—”

  “What, sell his soul?” He knits his brows and shakes his head. “No, he’d never do that.”

  A heavy weight lifts off my chest. We knew selling your soul came with a “go straight to hell” card, and couldn’t be undone. But I’m still confused about why he would look for someone to break this sort of deal in the first place. “If he didn’t sell his soul, then why on earth is he looking for a bocor with said ability?”

  Alex averts his gaze. “I don’t know.” His aura beams a bright pink. Bloody liar.

  I cross my arms. “Try again.”

  “It’s the truth,” he says, voice low.

  The truth, my ass. Even if I couldn’t read auras, I’d know he’s not sharing all the info. “Not a good enough answer,” I bark. “So, last chance, Alex.” Enjoying
the fact the tables have turned, I look him right in the eyes and start counting. “One.” My hand rests on the door handle. “One and a half.” I face the door, ready to get out of here. “Two.” I open the door, but Alex grabs my arm.

  “Wait.” His voice is in my ear. “Jesse is trying to save a friend.”

  I arch a brow. “A friend?” My disbelief is loud and clear.

  Scrubbing his fingers through his dark hair, he nods. “They are pretty close, and when Jesse heard he’d made a deal with a demon, he was hellbent on saving him. I tried to stop him, told him he couldn’t be saved, but he didn’t believe me.”

  His aura changed into a soft blue. Meaning he’s telling the truth. I still think he’s holding back on me, but decide to cut him some slack. “Let’s say I believe you. I still don’t understand how I can help.”

  “You’re a witch.”

  Why is everyone using this word as if it’s the solution to all of the problems in the world? I cast him a sideways glance. “Yeah, but you’re the one who works for the goddamn FBI, Alex.”

  “I tracked his phone, smartass. The last thing I got before it went dead was Bakersfield, and I thought you might be able to locate him there. You know, with your witch-mojo and all. Plus…” He leans forward and grins. “You’re so above yourself, you’d even mess with a psychotic voodoo priest.”

  I shrug the comment off. “Compliments aren’t your strong suit, hm?”

  Alex’s eyes soften. “Look, I know you hate me. I mean I almost killed you—”

  “Twice,” I remind him, holding two fingers up.

  A muscle tightens along the curve of his jaw. “Yeah, whatever. Point is Jesse is your friend and the only reason you’re still alive.”

  “He’s a hunter, and I’m a witch. Makes friendship sorta impossible.” I squeeze my eyes shut and sigh. “But you’re right. I owe him, and I always pay my dues.”

  Alex knows me well enough to understand I just agreed to help him. He starts the engine, and as the roaring of the Black Panther echoes through the interior, I lean against the cool window, wondering if I truly understand what the hell I just got myself into.