The Karma Set - Summer Spirit Novellas 4 - 6

by Samantha Jacobey

  “So you’re workin’ on those hours so you can come home soon?” Bethany sniffed.

  “Yeah, I’ll be home soon,” he replied more softly. Tapping his pencil on the desk for a moment, he regretted the phone calls more with each week that passed. “Seriously, I have to go,” he insisted.

  “All right, baby,” Beth agreed. “I’ll talk to you again next week.” Her voice filled with sadness, he could clearly tell that she missed him. “I love you, son,” she whispered before she hung up.

  Placing the handset in the cradle, Charlie released the breath he’d been holding loudly. Lorren stood to join him in his private space. “I don’t call anyone,” she informed him. “With my parents both gone, there’s really no need. I didn’t realize how lucky I was for that.”

  “Yeah,” he agreed, bouncing the eraser end against the flat surface a few more times. “When I first came here, gettin’ t’ make the calls was my lifeline. Now,” he paused, forming the words carefully. “Now, I wish I didn’t have t’ talk to her. It hurts her too much.”

  A commotion erupted at the far end of the giant room, at the base of the stairs, signaling that the rest of the Forgotten Angels had joined them. Glancing around quickly, Lorren anxiously darted over to her seat and dropped out of their line of sight.

  Blinking a few times, Charlie’s mind wandered, drifting over his sentencing and the first time that he had seen Karma. Man, if I only knew the trouble I was getting into. He wasn’t allowed to tell his mother about Purgatory, or anything else about their world, and that was fine. I wouldn’t tell her anyways, even if I could, he admitted to himself; she was better off not knowing the sinister details of his current existence.

  His thoughts shifted to the dealer he had paid a visit to a few days before, grinning at the recollection of appearing next to him as he strutted down the street. Such arrogance, he had observed. Turning the corner, the man and his invisible companion had arrived at a set of steps leading up to a pair of entrances; a duplex. Skipping up the short incline, the young man had knocked sharply before opening the door and darting inside.

  The front room of the structure barren, a few chairs and a folding table occupied the space. “You’re late,” the black man standing at the front windows growled.

  “Sorry, Calvin,” his target replied, “I was followed, so I took the long way.”

  “You got rid of ‘em?”

  “Yeah, I ditched ‘em clean,” he threw a leg over the top of one of the chairs, clearing it and dropping into the seat. “I need extra this week,” he stated casually.

  “Raul,” his supplier turned slowly, “you got anything you wanna tell me?”

  Watching the dark eyes staring up at him, Charlie observed the sweat forming on his brow. Raul, he noted to himself, moving about the room and inspecting the shabby surroundings. The silence grew more tense with each second that the seated man considered his response.

  “Naw, man. We’re cool. I just picked up some new business… you know,” he finally offered.

  “Yeah, I know,” the man in charge pursed his lips and Charlie grinned, realizing it would be easy to set him against his target.

  He had gotten used to the new rules, those that governed the Forgotten Angels. Karma had taught him well, and although he still needed practice with his growing talents, he enjoyed the feeling that using them supplied. He had been on a few missions to reward those who deserved it, but found the deepest pleasure came from punishing those driven by the darkness.

  Another knock sounded at the door before it opened, and two men entered, pushing a young woman in ahead of them. The plot thickens. Charlie leaned against a wall, his pulse quick with anticipation.

  “This is Ellen,” Calvin indicated the girl. “But I guess you already knew that.”

  Raul ran his hands over his jeans to remove the sweat from his palms. His mahogany orbs darting from face to face, he waited, not bothering to reply.

  Grinning, Charlie’s brown eyes began to glow, a soft green filling them as he searched the dealer’s thoughts. In an instant, he found the memory he wanted; one of Raul holding Ellen against a wall and driving his naked body against hers. Watching the recollection unfold, he could see the man in the chair squirm. Yeah, he knows her, Charlie chuckled. Jealousy would almost be cheating; it’s so easy to manipulate.

  Waving his hand slightly to improve his focus, he imparted the memory to the man in charge, allowing him to envision the particulars as Raul clutched a hand full of her hair; pulling it as he slammed against her. The sound of her loud moans practically filled the room as Calvin’s teeth clenched, his muscled jaw flexing.

  “You been bangin’ my bitch?” he demanded, his fists pressed knuckles to knuckles in front of him.

  “No, man,” Raul stammered, “I’d never…”

  Charlie laughed aloud, enjoying the smell of fear that tickled his nostrils. “Get him, Calvin,” he whispered. In a flash, the large black form leapt across the narrow gap between them, knocking the seated man to the floor and pounding him with a heavy fist.

  “Hey!” a hand shoved Charlie more firmly, shocking him back to Purgatory and the present.

  “What?” he sneered up at the tan blond who towered over him.

  “Karma’s got a gig for us,” Dante informed him curtly.

  Getting to his feet, Charlie dropped the pencil he’d been chewing next to the phone, his mind briefly flashing his mother, who had been on the other end. Thank God she doesn’t know what I’ve been up to, he thought wryly. A duality had settled over him in the three months that he had been there, living a life he would have been ashamed to reveal to her.

  Part of him had been sad to lose his previous life; the one he had shared with Bethany Phillips. But most of him had come to enjoy the power he had over men; that asshole got exactly what he deserved, he praised himself as he stepped the few paces into Karma’s office. He enjoyed being a wielder of justice and a bringer of pain.

  I like this life, he sighed, closing the wooden portal behind him. Of course that meant calling home became less and less important as the days went by, and he felt certain at some point he would stop doing it all together.

  Dante's Nemesis

  Dante watched the other male close the door and join them. Using his fingers to fluff up his blond spikes, he squared his shoulders and faced the red-head behind the desk. She had been his boss for over a decade, and they had been looking for something, or someone, for the majority of the time. Still, when he had come home to Purgatory three months prior to find Charlie there, he had been a little stunned.

  Karma looked up at the bronzed God before her, his muscles bulging against the seam of his shirt sleeve. At five-foot-five, she wasn’t exactly short, but in her flats, his six-foot-four frame towered over her. “Thank you, darling,” she cooed.

  Squinting at her, he shot a glance over at Charlie before he spoke, “So, he’s going with me on a special run?”

  “Yes,” her crimson-stained lips glistened, “Charlie has passed all of the prerequisites and completed his first priority mission.”

  “I see,” he ran his hand across his hard chest, anxious before he extended the appendage and offered it politely. “I gotta hand it to you; I didn’t really think you had it in you.”

  Shaking firmly, Charlie smiled, “Oh, I’m versatile.”

  Watching the exchange, Karma could have cut the tension in the room with a knife. She had promised Charlie not to invade his thoughts, and had so far refrained from doing so. At this point, she didn’t need her powers to see that the two young men despised one another. “I hope this isn’t going to be a problem,” she stated firmly.

  “Oh, hell no,” Dante’s lips curled, still eyeing his nemesis. He hadn’t figured out how he was going to get rid of him, but he knew Charlie’s days were numbered. “Give us the deets,” he insisted.

  “All right,” she smoothed her bright red skirt over her behind and sat calmly, “Have a seat, gentleman.” Indicating the view screen over thei
r shoulders, the curtain that hid it most of the time shifted, and they turned so they could watch.

  Charlie listened to the briefing for the most part, his pulse strong in his neck. Cutting his eyes over, he could see that his counterpart covertly watched him as well. I wonder how strong he is, he pondered. If he ever hoped to make it to the head of the group and be Karma’s right hand man, Dante would have to be dealt with.

  He had been out with all of the Forgotten Angels on missions over the last few months; all but him. Karma had kept them separated, like two male tigers she didn’t want fighting over her. I guess she thinks I’m ready for the challenge.

  Forcing his mind back to the task at hand, he caught the words this needs to be brutal. Twisting to face her, he inquired, “How brutal?”

  “I want them to suffer,” she sneered. “These guys have been happy to do Fate’s bidding, and they’re regular pawns of a few Dark Angels. It’s time to make them pay.”

  Charlie’s mind turned, recalling the lengthy discussion he had held with himself when he first realized that Karma seemed to be targeting those who were clients or minions of the Light and Dark Angels. Her purpose still eluded him, and he occasionally felt a smidge of guilt at their actions; they’re just doin’ what they’re told or made to do, he rationalized. Why punish them for that?

  Meeting his gaze, Karma waited for him to signal his agreement to the task.

  “We got this, miss,” Dante stood, eager to demonstrate his loyalty. “Don’t worry about your new pet… I won’t let anything happen to him.”

  Charlie rose stiffly, “I’m not her pet.”

  “Boys,” she called sharply, “I won’t tolerate fighting among the ranks.” She clasped her hands together in front of her face, darkening the screen and closing the velvet cover. “And don’t think that I am going to punish one of you and not the other,” her eyes darted between them. “If you can’t work this out, you will both suffer my wrath.”

  The door swung open, and she indicated it by extending her long fingers towards it. “Be on your way, and let me know when you’re in position to begin the assault.”

  “Yes ma’am,” Dante nodded at her. “Let’s go, boy,” he called over his shoulder as he marched out of the room.

  Charlie didn’t follow. Instead, he transported himself to his dorm, two flights above them. Leaning on the bunk above his bed, he sighed loudly; Jesus Christ. He had gotten used to the slight dizziness the action produced, but sometimes it still got the better of him, especially when he was flustered.

  He had doubted Karma’s word when she first began training him; that he was special. He had been moving objects with his mind for over a year, but had no idea how deeply the gift ran within him. When she taught him how to teleport, it had been as if a flood gate had been opened, pouring the magic and abilities out of him in a raging torrent.

  Realizing he wasn’t alone, he glanced up to find Kari seated in one of the chairs. “Hey,” he addressed his roommate with a small wave.

  “You ok, mate?” his friend nodded in return.

  “Yeah,” Charlie stammered, pretending to straighten the bunk he had used to support him. “Dante an’ I are goin’ on a run together; a big one. Not sure how long we’ll be gone,” he offered casually.

  “Watch yourself,” Kari warned. “Dante’s… well, Dante. He doesn’t like you, mate.”

  “I know,” Charlie grimaced in return. “I don’t think he likes anyone.”

  “Well, if you weren’t after his spot, it might be different,” Kari laughed, then vanished, leaving him to prepare for his journey in peace. Charlie stared at the vacated seat, wondering if everyone knew about their point of contention.

  Down stairs, Dante had felt the shimmer as soon as Charlie disappeared. Spinning on his heel, he reclosed the door behind him to keep their confrontation private. “Karma, whatever I did, I’m sorry,” he began.

  Smiling up at him, she opened herself to him, allowing him to connect with her mind, “Have you missed me, baby?”

  “Desperately,” he breathed, catching her hand and kissing her palm over the top of the desk that stood between them. “God, it’s been so long.”

  “I know, love,” she grasped his digits firmly, transporting them both to her haven.

  Finding himself standing inside what essentially was her boudoir, with her smaller body next to him, he pulled her against him. “Oh, Karma,” he whispered into her hair. He knew she had been entertaining herself with Charlie ever since the younger man’s arrival, but he didn’t care; he wanted her as if he were an addict and she were his drug.

  “Shh,” she soothed, running her hands up his body and guiding him to kneel before her.

  His breath quickened with anticipation. What Karma could do to a man no human female could match. Where any old girl could set a man’s skin on fire, she could set his mind and soul ablaze. Her fingers against his scalp, he whimpered, “Please don’t stop.”

  Taking in slow, deep pants, Karma mingled their spirits, separating him from his physical form. “Do you serve me?” she hissed.

  “I serve you,” his voice echoed her desperation.

  Her grip tightened, then relaxed against his follicles, stimulating his mind as the energy of their beings expanded into the air around them. The room grew bright with millions of tiny pinpoints of light, the particles of their souls being swirled above them as they were mixed. A moment later, an explosion sent them flying away from the center of the empty room.

  Red-Headed Stepchild

  “This is it,” Dante indicated the buildings below them with an open palm.

  Standing on an incline next to him, Charlie surveyed the structures. The largest, and clearly a house, appeared run down and badly in need of paint. The barn closest to them also had lost most of its protective coating, exposing grey wood beneath the remaining red. “I don’t see anyone,” he commented, taking a few steps down the slope.

  “Well, they’re around here somewhere,” Dante followed, using his muscular legs to push his way through the thick brush. Checking out the stand of trees that flanked the compound, they snaked along the path in silence.

  Arriving at the flat ground where a smaller shed stood away from the other two buildings, they paused. Inside, they picked up on a few muffled sounds. “Yeah, I hear ‘im,” Charlie agreed.

  Passing through the wall, the pair peeked inside to find a man in a dirty white tee-shirt and jeans rummaging through a selection of tools. Appearing to find what he wanted, he stood up straight and swung around, facing them squarely. Marching through the pair of them, he exited, slamming the wooden covering behind him.

  Following the bald head, Charlie commented quietly, “This whole plane business is still a bit hard t’ fathom.” He recalled that he had seen people on the other side when he was boy. “Have you ever felt like one of them could see you, or knew you were there?”

  “Naw, man,” Dante shot him a quick glance. “It’d be like winning the lottery, finding one of them who could see into this side, as you put it.”

  “As I put it,” Charlie pulled up short as their target entered the barn, then trailed him into the dim interior. “How would you describe it?”

  “We’re in the same place that they are. And, we’re experiencing the same world, but,” Dante paused, looking around the room at the stacks of assorted supplies. Moving over to inspect what turned out to be large bags of fertilizer, he grimaced. “It’s more like we have a protective barrier that keeps them from noticing us, and allows them to pass through us.”

  “Like a cloaking device,” Charlie mocked him while running his fingers through the dark, loose material from one of the bags. “You think they have a garden around here?”

  “Not that I saw. This isn’t here to make plants grown,” Dante turned, watching the man combine a few of the items into a mixture over at a long wooden table. “I think he’s making bombs.”

  “Bombs?” Charlies voice rose an octave momentarily before he reeled it back down
. “Are you sayin’ these guys are terrorists?”

  Cutting his eyes over at him, Dante snorted, “Weren’t you listening to what Karma said in the briefing?”

  Glancing around guiltily, Charlie shoved his hands in his pockets, “I may have drifted off.”

  “Really,” the other man scoffed, turning his back on him and wandering around the shack. “Don’t make a habit of that.” A moment later, he paused, demanding loudly, “She couldn’t tell you weren’t listening?”

  “What do you mean?” the younger man’s eyes grew wide in surprise.

  “I mean, when you weren’t paying attention, she couldn’t tell you were thinking about something else?” A pair of men joined them at that moment, carrying a few canisters of some liquid and placing them on the floor next to the table.

  Feeling vulnerable, Charlie left the barn, under the pretense of looking around outside. Hot on his heels, Dante demanded loudly, “Answer me, dammit! I thought you had connected with her.” Maybe his understanding of things had been all wrong from the start.

  “I did, I guess,” Charlie stopped to face him squarely, “But afterwards, I asked her to stay outta my head. And t’ keep anyone else from invadin’ my thoughts; my personal space,” he bit the word personal angrily. “Or haven’t you noticed?” he accused.

  Dante couldn’t believe his ears. “I wouldn’t know about your head; I have no reason to share with you, or listen for that matter,” the taller man lied flatly. He had tried to access Charlie early on, but had taken his well-protected consciousness as an indicator of his ability. “So you don’t share with her telepathically?”

  “No, I don’t,” he replied while watching a truck and car moving slowly up the long driveway.

  “Huh,” Dante shrugged, aware that the ramifications of this discovery could be huge. “I like being connected to her,” he informed his companion crisply, not sure what her protecting the new-comer really indicated.

  “Well, I don’t,” Charlie pointed at the approaching vehicles. “This don’ look good. What do you suppose they’re up to, exactly?” Three men piled out of the truck, and another pair exited the car, dragging a young woman along with them. Taking a single step closer, a cold chill rippled through him, despite the afternoon sun beating down on his brown waves.