The witches’ chanting upped in volume. Karma held her breath.

And nothing happened.

Chase coughed and released Prometheus, shaking his hand like it stung. His lips twitched and he flicked a glance over to where Karma was standing with Mia. “Remember you need to focus on wanting the box.” He flexed his fingers and reached for Prometheus again. “Really focus.”

The witches’ chanting didn’t even have time to get louder this time. As soon as Chase’s skin brushed Prometheus’s, he said, “Got it.”

The energy that had been building snapped in, contracting on Chase and then flinging out through the ceiling like an arrow shot from a bow. The chanting reached a frantic pitch, the witches swaying under the force of the power, their circle closed by white-knuckled grips. The magic rocketed back, slamming into the box with enough force to make it shudder. The witches’ circle broke, the coven falling to sprawl on the floor, and Prometheus staggered back under the power blast, one hand gripping his chest. Karma swayed, her vision going momentarily black, while the others in the room remained unmoved—their power operating on such a different spectrum that they were unaffected.

In the sudden silence left when the chanting cut off abruptly, Jo’s voice sounded unnaturally loud. “Well? Did it work?”

They all looked to the crate. Prometheus’s black gaze locked on Karma, his face unnaturally pale, his usual laughing expression blank and sober.

Then she heard it, more a hum along her magical senses than in any audible way, but there, distinctly, subtly there.

The distant, echoing beating of a heart.

Chapter Twenty-Two

The Lovechild of Xena and Thor

“How long have you been hooking up with Prometheus?”

“You’re banging Prometheus?” Jo gasped. “And you didn’t tell me? Naughty, naughty Karma.”

Karma shushed Chase and Jo, shutting the door of her office and glowering at the pair of them. Many of the witches—notorious gossips, every last one—were still in the lobby, gathering their things and migrating slowly out to the parking lot under Brittany’s direction. Mia had already left to return to her lab and process Prometheus’s blood work. The warlock himself was sprawled on the waiting area couch, staring at the box like it might spring open and melt his face off at any second.

None of them needed to hear Chase and Jo’s speculations on the state of her love life.

“Would you be quiet? I am not hooking up with Prometheus.”

Chase’s eyebrows shot up. “Does he know that?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I only picked up a few flashes, but when people fantasize about stuff they want in a vague haven’t-had-it- yet way, the images don’t tend to be quite that sharp and, uh, graphic.”

Karma’s face heated. “I’m sure he just has a very precise imagination.”

Jo sighed. “You really aren’t hooking up?”

“No.” Her blush intensified at the lie and she added, “I don’t know.”

“You are!” Jo crowed. “I love it. He’s so…scary. And you’re scary. Dude, it’s like if Xena hooked up with Thor. Your kids are gonna be leaping tall buildings from the cradle.”

“We aren’t having kids. We aren’t even dating. It’s nothing, okay? It’s…casual.”

Chase and Jo turned identical expressions of disbelief on her.

“What? I can do casual.” Which was a complete lie. She didn’t know the first thing about casual. Or serious, for that matter. She didn’t really do relationships—and she didn’t have the first idea what she was doing with Prometheus. She hated not knowing where she stood with him. She wasn’t even sure where she wanted to stand. She hadn’t expected to like him on any level, much less find herself attracted to him and respecting him. Karma closed her eyes and took a deep breath, but it didn’t help. She still felt unresolved. “I don’t know what I’m doing,” she admitted.

Jo nodded sagely. “Admitting you have a problem is the first step.”

Karma glared at her. “What is this, the twelve-step program for dating?”

“I thought you weren’t dating.”

“We aren’t. We’re just… Hell, I don’t know.”

Chase grinned. “Just remember to pace yourself. It’s a marathon, not a sprint.”

“But a faint heart never a true love knows,” Jo intoned with mock solemnity. “Go for it. Tis better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all.”

“All’s fair in love and war,” Chase added.

“The course of true love gathers no moss,” Jo chirped helpfully.

Karma glared at the pair of them. “You two are enjoying this far too much.”

“Can you blame us?”

“It isn’t every day the mighty Karma allows us puny mortals to see her human side.”

“You’re pains in my very human ass. Get out, both of you.”

They were laughing, completely unrepentant, as they filed obediently toward the door. It was habit for Karma to stay behind, to take a few minutes to herself to meditate and clear her head, but she realized belatedly that she didn’t need it. She didn’t feel the visions battering at her control. She actually felt fine.

“Karma?” Jo hovered with a hand on the door, Chase already gone.

“Yes, Jo?”

“I know we were giving you a hard time, but I meant what I said. I think you should go for it. You need someone to remind you that you are more than just Superwoman for all of us. If he can do that, jump on him and don’t let him up until he agrees with you. If anyone can reform that bad boy, it’s you.”

“Thanks for the thought, Jo, but I think I’ll leave reformation to some other lucky girl.”

The ghost exterminator grinned. “In that case, enjoy the hell out of the bad for as long as you can.”

The door snicked shut behind her.

Enjoy the hell out of the bad. She’d heard worse plans.

Prometheus couldn’t stop staring at the box. It was freaking him the fuck out. His heart was in there. Inside two layers of impenetrable magic, but in there. That just wasn’t natural. Strangely he’d never felt that not having a heart was unnatural, but looking at the box holding the box that held his heart—that was unnatural as hell.

He could feel it in there. Hear it beating. And that most definitely wasn’t natural.

The witches were gone. Jo and Chase had left the building. Brittany was at her desk, answering phones with an excited little chirrup. Karma was hiding in her office. Everything at Karmic was back to normal—except for the fact that there was a giant plywood crate in the middle of the lobby which happened to contain a beating heart. His beating heart. There was no normal there.

He wasn’t sure how long he sat there, staring at the box. He was vaguely aware of Brittany saying goodbye to him and the rest of the office staff heading home for the day. Then an icy glass was pressed into his hand.

“Drink,” Karma commanded as she sank down on the lobby sofa beside him.

The vodka went down smooth. She refilled his glass without comment, pouring the last of the bespelled Stoli into it, but Prometheus couldn’t be bothered to care that he was drinking trust me juice. Karma clinked her glass against his and they sat in silence, contemplating the box and sipping vodka.

Some time later, when the glasses were empty, Karma murmured without taking her eyes off the box, “You okay?”

“I’m always okay.”

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