Fated: Karma Series, Book Three

by Donna Augustine

  “This doesn’t make sense. Why not keep the guns?” I answered my own question before Fate did. “Unless you want complete anarchy. You want the world to hit a point of no return, or at least be so far gone that you have such a steep climb back it could take decades. A world of such chaos and disorder it would be easy to step into the gap if you have even a modicum of planning and resources. He wants to be a dictator.”

  “Some of the most horrific dictators rose to power amidst chaos.”

  I surveyed the building again, taking in all the possible access points. “We’ve got to give it a try. We might not get a better chance. Even if we don’t find any information on Malokin, worst case, we take out some of his people. It certainly isn’t going to hurt our cause.”

  Not often are Fate and I on the exact same page with things but when we both turned and looked at each other, in that moment we were utterly in sync. I could see the muscles tensing already and bloodlust in his eyes.

  His hand lay on top of where mine was over my gun, holstered at my side. “Before we do this, just know it could amp up this fight. The official truce might be over, but neither of us has pulled the trigger since the condo burning down. I killed his people. He retaliated. We do this, we might be inviting direct open warfare.”

  “Open warfare is coming whether we do this or not. It’s simply a choice of whether we wait for it to come to us or we meet it head on.” Even as I said the words, I knew he was probably more aware of it than I was. His statement had been for my benefit. My next words were for his. “I’m going into this with eyes wide open. I get it.”

  “This was one of those things I was hoping you’d miss,” he said, looking straight ahead at the building.

  It was another one of those honest moments that seemed to be sneaking up more and more often, and the effect wasn’t lessening per exposure.

  “You ready to do this?” he asked, snapping out of whatever glimpse I’d just seen.

  I nodded my head and tightened my ponytail.

  “We get as close as we can without being seen. Anything iffy, we leave. If we can take a shot, we do. Agreed?”

  I grabbed my gun from its holster and gripped it. “Sounds good to me.”

  “If something goes badly, the other one gets out.”

  Now I paused. “We just leave the other person there, knowing Malokin’s propensity for torture? You want me to agree to possibly leaving you in a pool of your own blood?”

  “Yes.” His face was set.

  There was only one answer that would do to get this show on the road.

  “Fine.” I shrugged as I lied. I’d never be able to leave him for dead. The idea was as abhorrent to me as dying myself. Maybe more so and that was scarier than the building of gun toting crazy humans.

  I tested the weight of my gun, knowing he wouldn’t really leave me either. He’d already had the opportunity and hadn’t.

  I peered back over the wall, eyeing up our best chance to get close enough to do damage.

  Fate edged closer and said, “Our only shot is approaching from the back of the building where no one seems to be going. The trees will give us some cover.”

  “Agreed.”

  Crouching down under the cover of the wall we headed off, taking several minutes to wind our way around to the back of the building without anyone catching sight of us. We made it to the tree line and then right up against the stucco side of the building where we could peer in the back windows unobstructed.

  The room was packed with people. They appeared to be forming a huge line, all waiting to get arsenal from a made up concession stand where handguns were being passed out like hotdogs and peanuts at a ballgame.

  He tilted his head toward the inside. “Do you recognize any of them?”

  I looked back through the dirty window, happy for the layer of grime shielding us somewhat and the overcast day helping out. There were five nonhumans in there. It was easy to spot them among the others, who all had karma in varying shades of dingy to almost black. Two of Malokin’s men were at the table and the other three were closer to the door, monitoring the traffic in and out. I scanned each face “I only recognize the one. Do you think we can get all five?”

  Fate took my place at the window as I moved to the side again, my back against the wall.

  He pulled back. “I’m not sure. The humans toting guns aren’t going to want their party crashed or their free goodies taken away. They’ll probably join the fight.”

  “We have to shut this down,” I said.

  “We might be better off letting it run its course, then seeing if Malokin’s guys lead us back to where he’s holed up.”

  “What if they don’t go back to Malokin for weeks? Meanwhile, all these new guns are hitting the street and we did nothing? I’m tired of doing nothing.”

  “It’s not the smart move.”

  “I can’t let this go on, not knowing if one of those crazy people is going to take one of those guns and shoot someone I know later on today.”

  I held my breath, wondering if I was going to have to do this alone, until I saw his eyes shoot to the gun in my hand. “How much practice have you had lately?”

  The air slowly leaked out of my lungs. “I’m decent. Not as good as I am with knives but I can hit what I’m aiming for.”

  “Do you think you could take two of them out while I take the other three?”

  I smiled. “Depends on how quick the second one moves after I shoot the first. I’m game if you are.”

  “It’s cold blood,” he said, reminding me of my past shortcomings.

  “Watching them pass out guns like that to a crazy horde that’s going to rip apart the only place I’ve called home? Trust me, there’s nothing chilly about my blood right now.” It was the exact opposite. I was gripping the gun hard in order to mask the anger shaking in my hands.

  He motioned for me to look through the window with him and then signaled to the left. “I’ll take those three. You take the two on the right.”

  My yacht guy was in his three. “No, I need to take out the guy we followed.”

  “Bucket list.” He nodded.

  “Bucket list,” I confirmed.

  “Going to make it a little trickier, spread out like that, but I respect the list. Take the three and I’ll try and pick up your slack.”

  “You respect the list?” My voiced hitched progressively higher until I didn’t recognize it by the last word.

  His eyes scanned mine before they squinted and he scowled. “Now you’re going to get all soft on me?”

  “No! I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said brushing off the fact that him respecting my bucket list felt like the first time a boy had handed me a stuffed animal at a carnival.

  He took one look at me and sighed aloud. “I save you from gang rape? No big deal. I tell you I respect your sicko murder list and you turn into a puddle of mush?”

  “You can mock the list all you want now. I know you respect it.” I squinted back at him.

  “Just get ready. You aim left. I aim right. We’re about to hit a hive with a stick. Take your best shot. Once they spot us, we run like hell before all those guns turn on us.”

  “I ever tell you I like your style?”

  “Actually, yes, you have.”

  “I have?”

  “Think really hard.”

  Oh God, it must have slipped out one of the times we’d had sex because the guy did know how to move.

  “There are two cracks in the glass. You take the lower, I’ll take the upper. We go on the count of three.”

  I moved into position and leveled my gun at the guy on my bucket list. “Count away.”

  Three came quickly. I pulled the trigger and the first name on my bucket list could officially be marked off. Everything after that was a blur. I took the next shot and clipped the second guy in the leg. After that, a clear shot become impossible. The inside of the building looked exactly like Fate had warned, a swarm buzzing around chaotically.
>
  We started receiving return fire at a rapid rate and I ducked just as a bullet shattered the rest of the glass. Just as I squatted down, the ache in my tattoo, which had been leaving me alone recently, decided to rear its head and stick out its teeth. The pain sucked the air from my chest and the strength from my legs.

  “Fun’s over. Time to go,” Fate said, not looking at me but at the ensuing chaos. He reached over and grabbed my hand, tugging me after him.

  Instead of following, I stumbled.

  “Are you hit?” His eyes were scanning me quickly.

  “No. Just a cramp or something.”

  He pulled me to my feet and tossed me over his shoulder, taking off with me in tow. The humans didn’t put up much of a chase. Even with my weight, Fate was too quick for them anyway. Plus, they’d already got their free guns.

  We were several blocks away when the pain finally started to subside.

  “I’m good,” I said, breathless and still recouping from the pain and bouncy ride.

  “What the hell happened to you?” he said once we slowed down.

  “I got a cramp,” I said defensively.

  He bent toward me and his face scrunched up. “You got a cramp?” he asked in disbelief.

  “Yes. Sometimes the tattoo cramps.” I knew I was underselling the situation but I didn’t know how else to describe it. It was a cramp, and I didn’t want to blow it out of proportion.

  His expression was already changing from annoyance to something I didn’t want to deal with. I’d known the mention of the pain originating near the tattoo was going to give it a different meaning.

  “Let me see it.” He pointed toward my hip and stepped closer, forcing me to back up. He was following me, an intent look on his face.

  “Why? You want me to light up the alley like the Fourth of July?”

  “I want to see it.”

  “Fine. Look.” I tugged down the side of my pants and pulled back the bandaging. “See? No freakier than normal,” I said as I pressed the tape back, hoping it had enough sticky left in it to hold.

  “Lars is going to look at it.”

  I nodded. Lars did the tattoo but I had a sinking feeling he wasn’t going to be able to fix what was going wrong.

  I hopped around on my feet a bit, trying to infuse my appearance with good health and excitement, only partially faked. “How many did we get back there?”

  “We got them all,” he said, and I could see my excitement chipping away at his doubts over my tattoo.

  “All? What about the guy I clipped in the leg?”

  “He was an easy shot, limping as he was.”

  Now I really was jumping around the alley and Fate was openly smiling at my enthusiasm. “I wish I could see Malokin’s face when he finds out we got five of his people! And my bucket list officially has a check!”

  I was almost skipping as we started to walk back to where we’d left our car at the market. “Five of Malokin’s men down. Four for you and one for me. Maybe three and a half from you. I did make that one guy easier. I think I deserve partial credit on him.”

  In the middle of my elation and recent achievement, I didn’t expect the smile to slip from Fate’s face.

  “I think we need to have a talk.”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  “There’s something I need to tell you about last night,” Fate said.

  “What?” I said aloud, while internally I was shouting I knew it. He had slept with someone, goddamn gigolo. I knew I shouldn’t have trusted him.

  “That’s not fair.” There was a gravelly quality to his.

  “What’s not fair?” He wanted to talk fair?

  “What you’re thinking.” His voice went from gravel to stone. “It’s written all over your face.”

  “What’s written on my face is what I heard in your tone. Obviously I’m not going to like whatever it is you have to say, which I’m withholding opinion on until I hear all the facts.”

  His eyes called me a liar but when his mouth opened, he said, “I want you to meet someone who was converted by Malokin who’s staying with Lars—who, by the way, I didn’t sleep with, even though, according to you, I can’t keep my dick in my pants. And you can’t kill her.”

  “You do know how odd that sounded, right? Putting that whole speech about your penis in the middle of that statement?” On the positive side of things, Fate wouldn’t sleep with someone involved with Malokin in any way. It still didn’t mean I was going to like this.

  “Having to ask you not to kill someone is utterly normal? Your bucket list? Again, completely normal shit you’ve got going on. And yet I don’t accuse you of being a murdering lunatic.”

  Spotting a gang on the horizon, Fate and I ducked into a partially burned out self-serve laundry place. After all, we couldn’t kill every lunatic on the street or there wouldn’t be enough people left when things hopefully righted themselves.

  I hopped on top of a somewhat clean washing machine and continued my argument. “Only because I haven’t been doing very well with it. You, on the other hand, have had quite a bit of success with your numbers, from what I’ve heard. I know your batting stats are up there. Don’t forget, our coworkers talk. A lot.” I leaned back and immediately thought better of it as my palm landed in a mixture of spilled detergent and ash.

  “Do you realize how long I’ve lived? I wasn’t a priest, for God’s sake.” He handed me a rag that was lying on the counter.

  I took it and jumped off the machine, trying to keep a few feet of distance between us. If I was three feet away at all times, it would be psychically impossible to have sex. “No, I have no idea how long, because you’ve never told me that either. Who is this person and why are they with Lars?”

  “It’s some girl who showed up at his shop. She’s under his protection.” He hopped up on a folding table to sit, leaning forward with his hands braced on either side of him.

  “I’m not saying I would kill her, but why can’t I?” I clanged a dryer door shut. “Since when did we start caring about keeping his people alive? Is this some sort of pity deal?”

  “She came to him for help. She claims she’s not a bad person. Lars is a bit on edge about her.”

  It took a second for all the pieces to click together. When things moved as fast, as they did these days, it was hard to be sharp at all times. But whoa, when they did click, I was speechless, at least for a second before I blurted out, “He’s fucking one of Malokin’s converts? I can’t believe this. And I’m supposed to not kill her so he can keep his sex toy?”

  “I didn’t say you wouldn’t want to.” He leaned back, resting an arm along the machine next to him, somehow finding the only clean space in the joint. “I’m telling you, you can’t.”

  “And you’re fine with this?”

  “I’m giving him space to figure it out.”

  “Figure it out?” I snorted. Lars screamed sex. “If he hasn’t figured it out yet, he should probably give up hope. Like Lars needs another crazy girl to fuck? You boys are unbelievable. Hey, why try and stop this at all? Hell, more crazy chicks to bang.” His eyes followed me around the place as I thought out the situation on my feet. “And don’t look at me like I don’t know. I’ve heard all the stories.”

  He shook his head. “This one’s different.”

  “Oh yeah, I agree there. Most of the girls he fucks aren’t part of Malokin’s Army of Evil.”

  “You’re making assumptions. I met her. I’m not so sure she’s bad.”

  “Let me guess, you want to fuck her too?”

  “Nope. Not even a little.” His gaze locked on me like a homing signal and sent me scurrying to my next pointless thing of observation, a detergent dispenser.

  “Why wasn’t I invited last night?”

  “Bucket list.”

  “Oh yeah. I forgot.” These people made an awful big thing out of a list I hadn’t been able to execute very well. “When do I get to meet her?”

  “Leaving the timing up to Lars.” Fate
jumped down from his seat, ducked his head out of the building and then waved me forward.

  ***

  The house was peaceful and quiet. Fate was out looking for more pop-up armories with the Jinxes, and everyone else was asleep. The moonlight spilled in through the doors.

  At night, when it went silent like this and the crazies had all finally succumbed to exhaustion, I could almost pretend everything was normal.

  The warmth of the mug seeped into my palms, where they wrapped around it, as I walked over to the couch. I’d curl up in the corner and watch the waves break on the ocean. Sipping my tea, I’d dream of normal everyday bliss while I waited for exhaustion to claim me as well.

  I’d imagine that the world wouldn’t be falling apart. Maybe I’d never died and was at a friend’s beach house, making a late night cup of tea because I was up and worried about a trial next week or some other matter that now seemed trivial.

  Only hiccup was, in my dreams, Lars was never sitting on the deck with a machine gun resting on his lap.

  I moved past the couch and opened the door to the deck instead. He looked over at me as I took the seat beside him. His boots were kicked up on the railing as the moonlight bounced off his hair. He was a handsome guy if you could get past the fact he’d been the Grim Reaper in a past life and he looked like he was still willing to lend a helping hand to anyone who wanted to pass over.

  “How are you?” he asked.

  His eyes scanned me, searching for some visible display of my messed up psyche. That’s when I knew for certain he’d not only had the entire story of everything that had gone down recently, but all the nitty gritty details as well.

  “I’m fine,” I replied. And I was but I could have been a walking train wreck and still wouldn’t have admitted it. Looks of pity had that effect on me.

  He nodded, like someone who understood on a personal level what it was like to keep your own counsel.

  “Live long enough and bad shit tends to happen. More often than usual with you, but it’s unavoidable.” He smiled, taking the unintentional sting out of his words. “Take enough steps and sooner or later one of them is going to be in dog shit.”