JINXED: (Karma Series, Book Two) (6 page)

Chapter Eight

Some things stick
.

“Why are we here? Do you have a drinking problem? I can set up another intervention,” Luck said, looking down at the glass in her hand, the cleanliness of it slightly in question. Her eyes scanned the bar room next, as something close to a cringe started to appear.

“I don’t have a drinking problem.” What I had was a stalking problem; as in too many people were following me around lately.

Ever since I’d met Malokin at my usual haunt, it hadn't felt as comfortable as it once had. When I went to the office, I felt Fate’s presence more than ever, just waiting for that ticking time bomb to blow. I now had two options: sit in my condo all day, and wait for either Fate or Malokin to show up there, or hide.

I could only walk the store aisles for so long and the parents at the park were starting to give me weird looks. O'Henry's was an old corner bar, low on tourists; well, technically, low on customers altogether. It was the ideal place to hide.

I heard the creaky door open and Luck's attention was diverted not even a second later. “Ooooh, I like him!”

Turning, I saw exactly what I had expected. A young twenty-something guy walked in the bar. His biceps were so well developed they forced his t-shirt sleeves to wrinkle into the crease under his shoulders.

Just like a tiger squats, as it gets ready to pounce, she pulled out her compact and lipstick, freshening up before she made her move.

“Good?” she asked, toying with a couple of stray locks of hair. She shifted her neckline so low she was in danger of one of her breasts breaking free.

“Perfection. He's yours, at least for the evening.”

She smiled, immune to my sarcastic delivery by now. Her white teeth gleamed brightly against her red lips. “You don't mind, do you?” she asked as an afterthought. 

“Not at all. Do your thing.” We'd barely sipped our first drink, but I knew the drill and was fine with it. Luck liked shiny new toys that came in the form of muscle bound men in their late twenties. Once she spotted one, you lost all of her attention. If you couldn't deal with that, you probably weren't going to be friends.

“You know, you could come play.” She slipped her lipstick back in one of the teeny-tiny purses she preferred.

I looked over at where her Ken doll was. He had a fairly healthy glow about him, but his friends were quite dull in appearance. “The guys he’s with have bad karma. If I played, I'd ruin the evening.” Having to take your buddy to the emergency room for a broken leg had that kind of effect on an evening.

She looked over at them and back at me, serious for a change. “What do you see when you look at them?”

“Some are beautiful and bright, like a summer’s day, some are dark and dull with sores and cracking skin. What do you see?” I looked at her and wondered why we'd never had this conversation before.

“I don't see anything. It's more of a feel, like I'm a magnet being drawn to a huge chunk of metal. Someone will walk in and I just want to be near them. Sometimes, there's no pull at all. I just like people for no reason other than it strikes my fancy at the moment.”

“And that one?” I moved my head in the direction of the guy she'd picked out for tonight.

“He's a big chunk of hard metal I want to stick myself all over.” Her voice was breathy as she said it.

She didn't mean to be funny but I laughed anyway. “Have fun.”

Luck grabbed her purse and walked over to her target. She had a way of sashaying that encouraged attention, and the target pulled out a chair for her before she even reached him.

Luck was smiling adoringly at the luckiest man in the world tonight. Wonderful things would be set in motion for him after this, possibly life changing things.

Grabbing my glass off the bar, I took a sip of Maker's Mark, but then pushed it to the edge, half full. I'd rather be home, working on my manual. Sitting here hiding was ridiculous. I had a deadbolt, and I knew how to use it.

By time the door swung closed, and I was walking out of the bar, Luck was already on the guy’s lap, fully engrossed.

I hadn’t made it more than a couple of steps when I spotted Murphy. He had just parked his car, an Audi. I liked my little Honda—I really did—but it burned.

Did everyone have a new car except me? Was it because I was a transfer?

“Is Luck in there?” he asked, as he crossed the pavement to talk to me.

“Yes, but she just found some amusement for the evening.” I didn't add
good luck separating her from this target. It’s definitely going to be an all-nighter.

His face scrunched for a second, knowing her well enough to read between the lines. “Damn. I'll never get her to the casino tonight.”

Luck was Murphy's virtual ATM. She was occasionally mine as well, so I wasn't going to cast any aspersions on the man for taking advantage. Harold was as cheap as they came. Half the building relied on the Lady Luck cash machine.

I motioned him over to the side to let a young couple past us into the bar. He stepped aside but as soon as he saw them, his eyes lit up. Uh oh, I'd seen that glint before. Something was coming. I wasn't sure exactly what that something would be, but I’d find out shortly.

They were barely legal drinking age, younger than even I had been at my death. The girl, eyes watery and red, reached forward and grabbed at the guy’s arm as he tried to keep moving away from her.

“Kenny, you can't mean that!”

“I do. I want to see other people. I'm sick of your shit.” He yanked his arm away and she grabbed the banister to steady herself.

I wanted to turn away but I watched anyway. The banister broke loose from what looked like a solid support of cement, and the girl tumbled the five steps to the ground. It wasn't that much of a fall, and if there hadn't been a helping hand by the name of Murphy, she probably would have ended up with a couple of bruises.

But Murphy
was
around. She started wailing and the guy cringed. I’d like to think it was distaste from seeing her get hurt. Unfortunately, there was a certain edge to his expression that made me think it had more to do with the fact that he couldn't just walk away. There was a second's hesitation, but in the end, he headed down the stairs and knelt by her side.

Grabbing Murphy's wrist, I tugged him over toward my car.

“Did you have to do that? She was already having a bad day.”

He raised one shoulder up and tilted his head toward it. “It's who I am. Can't help it. The worse the day someone’s had, the more it draws me in. Can’t seem to resist.” He looked at my Honda and cringed. “This thing really
is
as bad as they say.”

“Who said that?”

“No one. I just thought I heard something but maybe I didn’t.” Murphy was also the worst liar in the office.

“Forget it; I know it's bad. I'll see you tomorrow, Murphy.”

“Night, Karma.”

He walked past the couple into the bar, and of course the guy's phone fell out of his pocket and smashed on the cement steps. Poor schmucks.

I dropped my purse on the passenger seat and almost missed the note. 

52 Maple Lane Road

9:30 P.M.

Come or else.

Or else? I crumpled up the note and threw it in the back.

It wasn’t a job. I would’ve had a vision or a dream if it were. The ripped edge from a spiral notebook confirmed it. The Universe had better taste in stationary than that. The Universe also didn't bother with
or else
. The creepy feeling you got shooting up your spine when you stepped out of line already implied it. 

Definitely wasn’t Fate. He didn't need an
or else
, either. Most people just did what he wanted, except me. I wasn't sure if he knew what an ultimatum even was, but I was pretty sure he might be trying to figure it out now.

No, this was one of Fate’s guys. They'd been hanging out with enough humans over at Lars’s tattoo shop to pick up on our—their—ways. I kept forgetting I wasn't human anymore.

I swung my car left—away from home—instead of right, hoping I’d have enough gas to make it there. The Honda’s gas seemed to constantly disappear somehow, and I wanted to make this meeting. It was time to have a chat with the boys. This stalker business was getting on my nerves. The longer I hung around, the more I was fairly sure no one was going to try and kill me. Bully me, harass me and who knew what else, yes.

It was just after nine thirty when I spotted the stucco building at the given address. It had a dingy sign hanging sideways that read
Zombieplex
. I pulled into the empty lot of the closed down arcade, weeds sprouting up between the cracks of cement, and turned off the engine.

Feeling underneath my seat, I grabbed the can of pepper spray hidden there. I'd feel bad nailing Lars in the eyes, but if he got too annoying, I would. He had threatened me with death at one point. Pepper spray wasn’t an overreaction. Retired or not, when Death threatens you with dying, you needed to come prepared, no matter what your instincts told you. Who knew what kind of mojo he still had going on?

The Honda's muffler had warned all of my arrival, so I wasn't surprised when the door was pushed open by Cutty. So, did that mean all the boys had decided to come out and play?

I'd found out that Cutty was named thusly for his favorite drink, Cutty Sark. They had all adopted weird names since they had never been human and given one by parents. Once they retired, they needed to call themselves something that was totally disassociated with the agency.

It's not like Lars could walk around being called Death. Then I thought of his long dark hair and habit of wearing black. Actually, he might be able to pull it off.

I wondered if all four of them would be here. Bic, named in honor of his bald head, and Angus, who had an affinity for red meat. I’d find out soon, I thought as I stepped into the building.

The lights were dimmed but my eyesight adjusted fairly quickly. A lot of things were better since my death. The Tooth Fairy had once described mortality as being covered in bubble wrap, everything around you muffled slightly.

It seemed plausible, since as time slowly crept by, my eyes became sharper, my hearing more acute and my limbs more nimble. The only thing that hadn't changed was my sense of taste. That was pretty much same ole'.

I took in my surroundings with my new and improved senses as I followed Cutty. An old Pac-Man video game was standing in the corner, with Donkey Kong right beside it. We skirted around an air hockey table.

I used to be great at air hockey. It was all about the angles. Just when your opponent got into a habit of blocking the sides, you shot the puck straight down the center, lightning fast. 

“Hey, Cutty,” it was the first words either of us had uttered. “How about we settle this like civilized people, with an air hockey duel?” I wanted to add,
because I'm going to kick your ass
, but it was best to leave the trash talking off until he accepted.

Even in life, I'd loved a good trash talking. It was truly part of any healthy competition, if you thought about it. Well, maybe not, but it was a ton of fun if you were good at it.

He stopped and turned to look at me. “You really are one strange girl,” he said, then kept walking.

I took that for a
no
.

I followed him away from the table. It was probably for the best anyway. Those games were part of a past I didn't like to think about.

The smaller front room opened up into a larger back area that had been used for laser tag. I’d guess it was probably a transition from the arcade to something fresher, when the trend turned toward home units. Didn't look like it had turned out so well.

An empty chair sat in the center of the abandoned room with chipping paint and missing carpet. A light hung overhead, creating harsh shadows in the corners of the room, where I could see the barest outline of the others.

Now I really knew Fate wasn't here. He wasn't this dramatic; not on purpose, anyway. His was more of a natural gift, effortlessly stealing the show.

“Oooh, so spooky,” I mocked, and wasn't surprised when I was the only one laughing. These guys had no sense of humor. “Should I presume this is my seat?” I didn't wait for an answer but sat down.

“It's time for answers. Are you with us or not?” Cutty leaned over me, placing a hand on the back of my chair. “Think before you speak.”

These guys weren't a laughing matter; I knew this. And yet, I couldn't seem to work up any respectable level of anxiety for the situation. I didn't know what exactly Fate and I were to each other, but somehow I knew he wouldn't hurt me. And because of him, neither would his guys.

Maybe, like so many things in life, it's a matter of perspective. I'd recently gained some, by the name of Malokin. Him, I was worried about, and I had a really bad feeling he wasn't going away.

These guys might be bad news, but they weren't on the same scale. They'd threaten and scream but wouldn't actually do anything to me.