Karma

by Nadine Nightingale

  “Don’t be so melodramatic.” My own voice thunders in my ears. “You ain’t dead yet.”

  All right, I’m neither dead nor alive. So what the hell am I? Better question: why the hell do I hear my own voice, even though I can’t move my lips? God, if I get outta here, wherever the hell here is, I will see a shrink.

  “How about you shut up for a second and focus?”

  On what? The beeping? The floating? The darkness?

  “Just listen.”

  Drawing a deep breath, I center myself. A few moments later, a distant, but familiar voice rings in my ears. “Any changes?”

  Why do I get the feeling of holding a grudge against that person?

  “She’s stable, but hasn’t come to yet.”

  Alex?

  “How are the kids doing?”

  Jesse? Damn, it’s good to hear his un-zombie-like voice. At least something good came out of this mess.

  “They are getting the best psychological treatment money can buy, but it’s going to be a long process. One of the girls still swears Miss Bishop is a witch.”

  “Sure, and I’m Jason Bourne,” Alex says. The sound of his voice makes my heart beat a little faster, and the annoying beeping gets a little louder.

  Ignoring Alex’s comment, the man clears his throat. “Mr. Matthieu is in solitary confinement. Just like you instructed.”

  “Good. Make sure he stays that way,” Jesse says.

  “Don’t worry. He’ll never see the light of day again, but we need Miss Bishop’s statement. Would you call us when she wakes up?”

  Stop talking about me in the fucking third person. I’m right here. Concentrating on my numb hand, I try to move it. The transmitters in my brain are obviously on holiday, though. I resist the centrifugal pull of the otherworld and anchor myself by focusing on the one thing that always made me feel alive. Alex.

  “Are you kidding? The bullet punctured her lung. She has two broken ribs and is still unconscious. So excuse me if I don’t give a fuck about your statement right now.”

  Bullet? So that’s what that bang was.

  “Calm down, man. He’s just doing his job,” Jesse says, but even he can’t ease the poisonous anger heating his brother’s veins.

  “His job?” Alex snaps. “Let me tell you something. If he had done his job thirty years ago, Isobelle and Hedwig would still be alive. And Manda—”

  Ah, that’s why the voice sounds so familiar. The one and only Detective Bitcher.

  “I had no idea what Walter was up to.” Titcher sounds guilty. “You have to believe me, Agent Remington. I would have arrested him if—”

  “Whatever makes you sleep better.”

  “Maybe you should come back later,” Jesse suggests, knowing Alex is about to burst.

  “I have a better idea,” Alex says, his voice dangerously low. “How about you don’t come back at all?”

  Damn, why the hell can’t I open my fucking eyes? I would pay a fortune to see Detective Grumpy’s face.

  “I really am sorry,” Titcher mutters, and then a door slams.

  “What is wrong with you?” Jesse asks. “Pissing off the local police isn’t exactly a smart move. Carter already lost it because he didn’t know how to explain Walter’s super-freaking-natural death. I mean, who knew spirits could make such a mess, right?”

  Spirits? Ah, right. That’s the last thing I did before darkness swallowed me; I summoned a bunch of vengeful ghosts.

  I feel Alex’s hand on my forehead. Pretty ironic, considering I can’t even feel my own legs. “That son of a bitch got what he deserved.”

  “Man, you sound less like you and more like—”

  Me?

  Alex cuts him off. “Just shut up, all right?”

  “You act all tough, Alex, but deep down you blame yourself for what happened to her. You gotta stop, man. Acting like a jerk won’t ease the guilt.”

  He knows his brother too damn well, I’d say.

  “Thanks, Dr. Phil. Anything else you’d like to add, or are you done shrinking me?”

  “Alex, I’m serious. None of this is your fault.”

  Brushing a strand of hair out of my face, he sighs. “I should have never dragged her into this.”

  “Are you serious?” Jesse snarls. “Dude, we’re talking about Amanda Bishop here. No one forces her to do anything she doesn’t want to.”

  Alex’s breath tingles on my cheeks. “I pointed my goddamn gun at her head and threatened to kill her. That’s a pretty convincing argument, don’t you think?” Taking my hand in his, he draws tiny circles on my palm. “You can say what you want, but the truth is Amanda would never have been shot if I hadn’t forced her to help me. Her selfishness would have saved her from this.”

  Even after everything that happened, I’m still the selfish witch with a capital B to him? Way to go, Alex.

  Battling the everlasting darkness, I picture a ray of light. Open. Eyes. Eyes. Eyes. Using Vipassana meditation usually helps. Not this time, though. My eyelids are just too damn stubborn to listen.

  “For a guy who hasn’t slept, eaten, or walked out of this room in the last four days, you’re sure as hell trying hard to sound like a dick.”

  Four days? You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.

  “The only reason I’m still here is because unlike her, I don’t just walk away from people. Now why don’t you go and get some coffee or read another self-help magazine, ’cause I’m about done listening to your psycho-analytical crap.”

  The door creaks. “You know, Alex, I’ve put up with your she’s-a-witch shit for way too long. That’s still the girl you fell in love with lying there. The one who taught you how to live again. And yeah, she walked away from you. But you were the one who pushed her in that direction.” Jesse almost never loses his temper, but boy, is he pissed.

  The vibration of the slamming door rattles through my body. Moments later, the mattress sinks under Alex’s weight. He lets out a frustrated breath. “I’m sorry,” he whispers, caressing my face. “I know we weren’t always on the same page, but you have to believe me when I say I never wanted it to end like this.”

  Oh, please. Is this going to be one of those cheesy Hollywood speeches that is supposed to make me feel all loved and cared for? Boy, next thing, he’s gonna kiss me sleeping princess-style, expecting me to wake up and proclaim my everlasting love to him. What shit have I done in my past life to deserve this?

  “I should have protected you, Manda. Should have snapped that son of a bitch’s neck when I had the chance.”

  Excuse me, but I think I need to puke. Jeez, when will jerk-face finally accept I’m not a damsel in distress and I… “Don’t need saving.”

  Did I just say that out loud?

  “Amanda?”

  I blink my eyes open, but the fluorescent light hurts like hell. Shit. So, that’s how vampires feel when they stare into the sun, hm?

  “Manda, can you hear me?” Alex says, voice infected with hope.

  Still battling the light, I open my mouth. It’s as dry as Death Valley. “W—” I swallow hard, but my throat feels like it’s been scraped with sandpaper. “Water.”

  Alex pours me a glass and carefully places it at my lips. “Slowly,” he orders.

  Taking tiny sips, I check out his fucked up appearance. His skin is dry. Eyes are red. The worst part, though: he still wears the blood-soaked clothes from that night.

  “How do you feel?” he asks, putting the glass down. “Are you in pain?” He rests his hand on my forehead, checking my temperature. “Do you need anything? Can I… I don’t know; get you another pillow? Or maybe I should get the nurse.” He’s looking at me, but I get the feeling he’s talking to himself.

  I would laugh my ass off if my jaw didn’t hurt so badly. “I’m…” Every word is painful. “Fine.” I point to the water. “More?”

  I don’t have to ask twice. The lukewarm liquid slides down my throat, easing the soreness.

  Alex’s gaze travels over my face. �
�You scared the living shit outta me. Don’t ever do that again, or—”

  “You’re goin’ to shoot me?” I tease.

  The disturbed look on his face is priceless. “Not funny,” he grumbles.

  I try to take a deep breath, but inhaling feels like being stabbed in the chest. “Actually, it is,” I say weakly. He threatened to shoot me twice. Now the universe has rewarded him with a taste of what it would feel like to lose me to a gunshot. Some would call that coincidence. I prefer karma.

  Pushing my numb hands into the mattress, I try to push myself up, but my body isn’t up for it. “Take it easy,” he commands, taking a seat next to me. “You’ve been hurt pretty bad.” He runs a hand over his battered face. “You’re lucky you’re still alive.”

  “Hell isn’t ready for me,” I joke.

  Alex carefully holds my head up and shoves the pillow a little higher. “I’m sorry, Amanda. I should never have dragged you into this.”

  Not again. “You don’t get it, do you?”

  “Get what? That I almost got you and Jesse killed?”

  I don’t know why, but I seize hold of his hand and rest it above my heart. “This wasn’t about you or Jesse,” I explain. “I was exactly where I was supposed to be.”

  Doubt and guilt darken his aura, but he knows better than to argue with me when I’m not feeling well. “I should get the nurse,” he says, reluctant to leave.

  “Go.” I point to the needles and cables all over my body. “It’s not like I could run.”

  His lips curve in a tight half-smile. “I’ll be right back.”

  “I’ll be right here waitin’ for you.”

  Chapter 26

  Daytime TV sucks, hospital pudding is disgusting, and the nurses are so damn sweet, I’ll probably leave this place with diabetes. I’ve only been awake for two days, but it feels like an eternity. I seriously fear I’m going to lose my mind if I have to stay any longer.

  I won’t lie, though. It was nice to have the boys camping on chairs next to my bed. Jesse entertained me with crazy stories that would make the best How Not to Treat Your One Night Stand book ever. Alex was all guilt ridden and determined to read every wish from my eyes. But no matter how much I appreciate Jesse’s Oprah act and Alex’s newly discovered I Dream of Jeannie side, I need to get the hell outta here.

  Knowing neither Jesse nor Alex would support my mission, I had them convinced they smelled worse than Swiss cheese. After a fairly heated even-Jacob-the-werewolf-smells-better discussion, they agreed to return to the motel to get a shower and some much-needed sleep, giving me enough time to sign the release papers. Goes without saying the doctors considered me brain-damaged goods, but what can I say? I’m stubborn like that.

  I’m covering the black-and-blue bruises all over my face with plenty of concealer when my phone rings again. There’s no need to look at the screen; I know exactly who it is. Melinda has assaulted my poor phone ever since jerk-face told her I had a gaping hole in my chest. I might not blame him for getting me shot, but I totally blame him for going through my phone contacts without permission and calling my upright, crazy-ass sister. I consider picking up, but I still feel like I’ve been hit by a truck and can’t handle a lecture from Miss Perfect.

  “Movie sounds good.”

  Jesse leans against the doorframe, loaded with coffee and engulfed by a lusty aura. Shit, why the fuck is he back already? It’s only been an hour since they left.

  Nurse Rachel’s eyes light up like goddamn Fourth of July fireworks. “Great. My shift ends at seven. See you then?”

  Don’t do it, Jesse.

  Eyes on her boobs he smirks. “Sure.”

  I sorta feel sorry for the poor, soon-to-be heartbroken girl. She was always sweet to me, partly because she has the hots for Jesse, partly because she has that genuine caring aura you often find around doctors, nurses, and teachers.

  “Looking forward to it,” he says, and once she’s out of sight, he walks into my room.

  Taking a last look at my battered reflection, I shove my pocket mirror in my bag. “Really, Jesse? Breaking the heart of yet another innocent girl?”

  “I’d never—” His eyes go wide as he realizes I’m dressed and ready to leave. “Whoa, what the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

  Throwing my phone in my bag, I shrug. “What’s it look like? I’m checkin’ out.”

  He puts the coffee down on the nightstand. “Are you crazy? You’ve got some serious injuries, girl. You can’t just walk outta here.”

  I refuse to meet his gaze. “These,” I hold up the release papers, “say I can.”

  Hands in his pockets, he strides toward me in typical Jesse fashion. “Does Alex know about this?”

  I almost laugh. “It’s not like he’s the boss of me, Jess. I’m old enough to make my own decisions.”

  His warm eyes search mine. “I get it, Manda. You’ve been through some real bad shit, but I don’t think this is such a great idea.” He points to my packed bag.

  I know he means well, but if I have to stay another day in this depressing shithole, they’ll have to transfer me to the loony bin. “Look, I’ve paid my dues, Jess. The bocor is rotting in jail. Walter is dead. The kids are saved.” I give him the biggest smile. “And you are back to your old, charming, heartbreaking self. It’s time for me to move on. Start my new life.”

  He flings himself on the bed and studies me. “So it’s true?”

  “What?”

  “You really are going straight?” he says, searching my face.

  “Yep.”

  “Didn’t believe Alex when he said you were headed to NYU. Couldn’t, for the life of me, picture you as a girl who gives up her freedom for a normal life.”

  Careful not to make sudden moves, I sit on the bed next to him. “I guess I’ve realized it’s time to grow up.”

  “Grow up?” he says suspiciously. “What happened to you, Manda?”

  It’s a good thing I’m no longer connected to the medical IV monitor. Otherwise, there’d be a massive spike in my heart rate. “Nothing happened to me, Jess. I just can’t spend the rest of my life roaming the country, reading cards. That’s all.”

  “Why not?” he asks, narrowing his eyes. “Last time I checked, it made you pretty damn happy.”

  “Yeah, well.” I run my fingers through my knotty hair. “Things change.”

  “Maybe so,” he says, holding my gaze. “But people usually don’t. So why don’t you tell me what’s really going on?”

  I wish I could be honest with him. He deserves the truth, but trusting him with my secret would affect his relationship with Alex, and I can’t let that happen. So I turn the tables. “How about you tell me what’s going on between you and Alex first?”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he says, staring at the wall.

  Even if there weren’t a shiny pink light around him, I’d know he’s lying. “Oh please, Jesse. You guys barely speak to each other, and if you do, there’s an unspoken argument hovering above ya. Quit fooling around and spill it.”

  His lips form a straight line. “I know what you’re doing, Manda. Changing the topic to avoid my question. Gets old, don’t you think?”

  I make a face. “You quite literally almost crushed me to death, and I took a bullet because of you and your brother. So excuse me if I’d like to know what the hell is going on.” I look him in the eye. “I had a hard time believing you’d run off without Alex to seek the help of a bocor. But seeing you guys like this, well, it makes me wonder if there’s more to the story than you’re lettin’ on.”

  Playing with the buttons of his flannel shirt, he gazes out the window. “I was just trying to help out a friend.” His aura turns gray. He’s scared of something.

  “Yeah, ’bout that. Must be one helluva friend if you take your chances with a malicious, backstabbing, voodoo-priest asshole.”

  “He is,” he says matter-of-factly.

  Gosh, these boys are tight-lipped about this whole bo
cor business. When the memories finally came back to me, I remembered the all-of-this-is-your-fault speeches from wasted Alex and asshole bocor. Every time I tried to ask Alex what this was about, he had to go to the bathroom or find a nurse. And now Jesse is acting just as weird.

  I narrow my eyes. “He is? Is that all?” I grab my bag and shakily get on my feet. “Well, I can’t force you to tell the truth, but if that’s all you have to say, I’m outta here.”

  “Wait,” he says, wrapping his fingers around my wrist. “You have to understand, Manda. I begged him to tell you, but—”

  “What the fuck is going on here?” Alex yells, pissed beyond words.

  Awesome timing. Letting my head fall into my hands, I brace myself for his wrath.

  “Someone better explain why it looks like she’s about to hit a club when she should be in bed.”

  Translation: little brother, if you don’t give me a damn good reason why she looks like she’s leaving the hospital, I will make sure every future one-night stand learns about your My Little Pony obsession.

  Jesse raises his hands in defeat. “I tried to talk her out of it, I swear, but you know how she is.”

  “Oh please,” I snarl. “Would you two stop it already? I’m fine, okay?”

  A crazy look in his eyes, Alex stalks toward me. “Manda, this is—”

  “My choice,” I say. “And you can hate it all you want, but I need to get out of this town and away from—”

  “Me?” Alex snaps.

  I was going to say the shit that happened here, but whatever. “I—”

  Alex’s striking face turns to granite. “It’s all right. No need to explain. I mean, that was the deal, right? You held up your end of the bargain. Now it’s my turn.”

  What the hell is going on with him? I just want to get on with my life. It’s not like he wants me in his anyway. “Alex—”

  “You want me out of your life, I get that. But you could have just told me to leave.”

  “Alex,” Jesse interrupts his rampage. “Why don’t you let her explain herself, dude?”

  A creepy smile crosses Alex’s lips. “Explain what? That she’s ready to risk her life because she can’t stand me? Or that she’s so full of herself, she doesn’t even listen to the doctors?”