Naughty Karma

Knight at ten o’clock.

And perhaps tomorrow she would get a full night’s sleep, uninterrupted by unwanted visions.

Her eyes and body aching with exhaustion, Karma made her way to her meditation corner, knelt and went through the ritual to clear her head, establish control and block the visions for as long as the barriers held. There had to be a better way. Hopefully tomorrow she would learn it.

“He apologized to Brittany and fixed my sister’s car—it’s never run so well. Not even when it was new. Adela thinks he may have replaced the fuel injection system and she loves the new color.”

“He changed the color?”

“Snapped his fingers and there was a shiny new paint job. Never seen anything like it. Then we go up to Sutherland and he put a curse on the frat boy who’d been summoning nymphs into coeds and banished a roomful of nymphs with a wave of his hand. He’s fucking powerful, Karma.”

“I know. But do you trust him?”

Rodriguez hesitated a long time, longer than she would have expected, given his history with Prometheus. “No. Probably not,” he finally admitted.

And there was the catch. Neither did she. But he was still the best option. There weren’t a lot of genuine magic users out there who were capable of training her—let alone who needed her goodwill for their own survival. As long as he needed her, she might be able to trust him. Within limits. “Thanks, Rodriguez.”

“No problema, boss.”

Karma hung up the phone. It was an older model, pulled out of storage to replace the one they’d short circuited yesterday with the pyrotechnics to save Ciara. Karma had spoken to her finder this morning. She was fine, better than fine. She sounded happier than Karma had ever heard her. Alive—and not only in the thank-God- she’s-not-dead sense, but with a vibrancy that had always been missing. Joy.

A tiny jab of jealousy spiked down into Karma’s heart. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt joy. Happiness, sure. She was happy all the time. Happy for her brother at his wedding. Happy for all her consultants who were jumping on the love train. Happy for the continued success of the business. But joy? She lined a pen up at a perfect parallel to the edge of the desk. Was joy really necessary? The extremes were dangerous. The extremes were where control was forfeit and Karma needed control. That was the entire point behind the possible sessions with Prometheus—to refine her control. Teach her better control. To improve her grip on her abilities. Not to set them free, no matter what the chaos master thought. She would be very clear about their objectives.

He’d already seen her without control yesterday—which still mortified her to recall. No one had seen her so unhinged, except perhaps her brother. Karma didn’t lose her cool. And it wouldn’t be happening again.

She ran her hands over the smooth, dark expanse of her desk. She was in control here. She was the boss.

So why these butterflies deep in her stomach? Why this breathless little hitch of anticipation?

The intercom buzzed. “Prometheus to see you, Karma.”

Karma wet her lips, one hand going automatically to her hair before she forced it down. “Send him in.”

Chapter Thirteen Negotiations and Other Foreplay

“I need your help.”

A tactful man would nod graciously, acknowledging how difficult it was for Karma to say those words to him. A wise man would keep his mouth shut, being smart enough to quit while he was ahead. But fuck it, wisdom and tact had never been part of his playbook. Prometheus flashed his teeth. “I’m sorry, I didn’t quite catch that. Give it to me one more time. Nice and slow.”

Finely drawn brows lowered sharply. “May I remind you that you still need my goodwill, Prometheus?”

“You may, but you can’t blame me for enjoying the fact that now you need something from me too.”

“Need might be putting it a little strongly. Let’s just say I would appreciate your assistance.”

He rocked back in his chair, tipping it onto two legs. “Far be it from me to interfere with your appreciation of me.”

“Can we have a serious conversation about this or are you going to be picking apart every word I say?”

“Can’t we do both?” When she glowered, he held up his hands in defense. “Fine. Have it your way. We’ll be serious. So what is it you seriously need my help with?”

Karma took a breath and a moment to collect her thoughts. She sat regally behind her desk, perfectly manicured hands laced on its surface, every hair in place. She was Ms. Poise again, a far cry from the frantic desperation of yesterday. He liked her like this. She was so much more fun to push when she had the presence of mind to push back.

“Yesterday,” she said, as if the word left a questionable aftertaste on her tongue, “you helped me access my abilities and unblock one of my consultants, possibly saving her life.”

“And I enjoyed every second of it. Let me know if I can help you unblock any other inhibitions you might be harboring.”

“That’s what I’d like to talk to you about, actually. I’ve come to the conclusion that my unwillingness to use my abilities to their fullest potential might be negatively impacting my employees. Therefore I would like to take you up on your offer to assist me in accessing them.”

Prometheus felt himself smiling and had to stop himself from rubbing his hands together like Dr. Evil. He was finally going to get his hands on Karma—metaphorically speaking—and all that delicious, repressed power. Not only was the idea beyond tantalizing, it also meant she would be able to control her abilities when the time came to free him from Deuma. And if he could ingratiate himself to her in the process… “When do we start?”

“As soon as we’ve established a few ground rules.”

He should’ve known she’d try to suck the fun out of it with rules and regulations. “That isn’t how this is going to work. If I’m the teacher, that means I get to set the rules and I say no rules.”

“Then we won’t call them rules.”

“This isn’t a semantic issue. Magic doesn’t fall into neat little categories. If you want to learn how to play with this toy of yours, we need some room to maneuver. I can’t constantly be worrying about not stepping over some invisible line. It’s more an art than a science.”

“Even artists obey the laws of physics.”

“To Dali, gravity was nothing more than an idea to play with. We don’t do laws.”

“Then how about boundaries? Such as I won’t be asked to do anything illegal or unethical.”

“Ethics are so subjective. One woman’s unethical is another man’s entertainment.”

She ignored his editorializing, pressing on as if he hadn’t spoken. “And I think we should establish up front that there won’t be any more physical contact.”

“Not even a high five?”

“Prometheus.”

“Oh. You mean no sex. What if it was just casual sex?”

Her lips pursed repressively. “I only do serious sex.”

“Where’s the fun in that?” He swept a look from her tidy bun to the polish on her shoes. She probably had very dignified orgasms. “No wonder you’re so tense.”

“Trust a man to think all a woman’s problems can be solved with his penis.”

“Not all your problems, maybe, but I’m willing to give it a try if you are.”

“No. Thank you.”

She didn’t move a muscle. There was no hint of a blush. If he hadn’t been able to see the agitation of her aura, the tinges of lustful reds, he never would have known that he got under Karma’s skin. But luckily aura reading was one of his many skills and Karma was much more interested than she cared to let on. He wanted to touch that aura, to wrap it around him until they bled into each other. There was such