Naughty Karma: Karmic Consultants, Book 7 (3 page)

“I could walk away.” She spoke softly, the words a husky, dark promise they both knew she would never fulfill. “You’re the one who needs
me
.”

“I do.” He didn’t touch her. He was close enough to now, but Prometheus felt the strangest urge to
save
that first touch, hoard it until the perfect moment. “But you need to be the woman who saves the day more than I need to be saved. That do-gooder complex is your Achilles’ heel.”

“Or my greatest strength.”

“You couldn’t let even your worst enemy die if you knew you could help him.”

“Are we enemies? Here I thought you were a pest. Like a roach. I’m fond of killing pests. There’s such satisfaction in exterminating them.” God, her voice was intoxicating, sultry and rough.

He leaned in, just a hair more, and the air around them grew tight—talking about cockroaches had never been so intimate. “You would never forgive yourself if you could have saved me and stood by doing nothing.”

Her jaw tightened, lovely anger flaring at the way he’d boxed her in—physically and verbally. Prometheus raised a finger, but stopped himself a centimeter short of brushing the muscle clenching along the column of her throat, still saving the first touch, holding it in reserve.

“You don’t know me as well as you think you do if you believe there is
anything
I wouldn’t do to protect my people.”

“I’m not a threat to them. Demonic kidnapping aside.”

“Demons aside, you sold a medallion that nearly killed my favorite ghost exterminator.”

“Again with the nearlys and the almosts. Besides, I
sold
it. I didn’t activate it. Are you really going to hold me responsible for every little bauble I’ve ever touched that was eventually used for less than wholesome purposes?”

“
Yes.
You enchant charms then sell them to whoever wanders through your door. They’re unregistered weapons in the wrong hands, and you just scatter them wherever the hell you please.”

“I’m a businessman, not a cop.”

“Magic should be used for good. It needs to be monitored. Controlled.”

“On that we’ll have to disagree. Magic is a force, a freedom. It’s meant for the masses.”

“Is that why you stole a valuable heirloom from one of my clients? You steal magic from its rightful owners because you want the
masses
to have it?”

“Borrowed. And she hired one of your little pets to get it back, so are you really going to complain about profiting from my temporary possession?”

“You’re a thief, a liar, a demon-summoner and an unscrupulous bastard who sold a piece of himself to a devil. I could never trust you.”

“I’m not asking for trust. I’m asking for help.”

“You aren’t my problem. And I think the best way to protect my people is keep it that way.”

Was she actually going to say no?
Prometheus cursed internally. This wasn’t going as planned.

Time to activate the home-field advantage.

“Say you’ll help me, Karma,” he urged, making his voice thick with power and a pulse of heat, leaning in to remind her of their physical proximity, pull her out of her mind and put her into her body. He could control her body. Her mind was another story. “Say you’ll do it.”

He put his palm flat on the frosted glass behind her, sending a low pulse of energy through it to activate his little insurance policy. Over the years, he’d woven a binding spell into the walls themselves. With a thought, the spell woke and any words spoken within these four walls took on the weight of an unbreakable vow. She wouldn’t be able to back out later. She’d be forced to follow through, provided he could get her to say the words that would seal the deal.

He stared into her eyes, tracing a phantom path behind her ear, still holding that first touch in reserve. “What will it take to get you to say yes?”

“I would have to believe you were reformed. That you would use your powers for good. I don’t see that happening, Prometheus.”

“How about a show of good faith?”

“Do you even know what good is?”

“I know freedom without the moralistic constraints of good and bad is a lot more fun.”

She was so restrained. So contained. Not a hair out of place. Not a smudge in her lipstick or a wrinkle in her dress. He wanted to muss her. Rake his fingers through her hair, smear her lipstick with his mouth, bunch her dress in rough, urgent hands. The urge to unleash the chaos she’d buried deep was a living thing inside him. Her power calling to his, a siren song of perfect destruction.

“Let me show you, Karma. Live a little.” He rested a finger against the nape of her neck, half-expecting her to sear his skin with the heat of that first touch. She was smooth, soft ivory, cool marble and hard diamond—all that promising heat buried beneath layers of icy reserve, but he could feel it. An echo, a tremor, a promise of wildness to come. He stroked his finger slowly up the arch of her neck. “Say yes…”

Chapter Four

The Great Escape

Karma’s entire existence revolved around a single, long finger slowly stroking her neck. Was Prometheus going to kiss her? Was this how he hoped to gain her cooperation? By seduction? Did he really think she was susceptible to that?

Maybe he’s right…

“Let me go.” The demand lacked the heat she’d wanted behind it. He wasn’t holding her really, the door at her back was doing that for him. “I listened to what you had to say. I heard you out. Now let me leave.”

“Why won’t you say you’ll help me, Karma?” he asked, his voice seeming to come at her from all sides at once. “Why this stubbornness?”

She struggled to reclaim her brain, tried to remember the logical reasons why any sort of interaction with Prometheus was dangerous, reckless. Karma was never reckless. She was calm. She was control. Restraint was power. Control was its own reward.

So why did Prometheus’s finger, just a single finger, stroking the nape of her neck in slow, deliberate lines, make all her careful control unravel? Why did her neatly organized thoughts scatter? It wasn’t chemistry; it was something else, something much more dangerous.

Temptation
.

That was why she could never say yes.

Which was selfish. Was she really refusing to help him, refusing to save his
life
, just because she was afraid he was the one man who could corrupt her? Was she really such a coward?

“Please, Karma.”

Was she denying him because deep down she wanted nothing more than to be close to him, to bask in the seductive proximity of his power, and she was terrified of letting that part have its way?

“Okay.”

The word was barely audible. It invited him closer. Prometheus leaned in, his breath brushing against her face in ways that made her want to press against him and revel in his warmth like a cat. “What was that?”

“I’ll do it. I’ll help you reclaim your heart.”

The lights flashed and she felt that power surge zap through her shoulder blades where they touched the glass door. An invisible energy snapped shut around her, her own words the key that locked her prison as she felt the spell surge. A gasp ripped from her throat.

Prometheus stepped back, returning her space to her own care, a smile curling his lips that made what she felt a pathetic cousin to uneasiness.

“What. Did. You. Do?”

He shrugged, the graceful raise of his shoulders distinctly Gallic. “Just made sure you keep your promises.”

“
I’m
not the untrustworthy one,” she snarled at him. “I said I would help you and I will. For a price.”

“Ah, we’ve come to the mercenary portion of the evening. My favorite.”

“My earlier terms still apply. You will stop harassing my people and protect them from any harm, you will make amends and you will use your powers for good. By working for me.”

“Could be amusing. For how long?”

Karma considered for a moment. “Three weeks.”

“One.”

“Three. One of my best finders is backlogged—”
and currently being harassed by the FBI.
Which reminded Karma she needed to call the regional office on Monday and tell her Jewelry and Gemstone recovery liaison to rein in his new boy. A million little problems. She didn’t have time for Prometheus’s needy it’s-all-about-me bullshit. “—and the other is on his honeymoon. No one will be able to start looking for your heart for a few weeks anyway.”

“Ten days.”

“Three weeks,” she snapped, refusing to budge.

“You don’t seem to understand how to barter. I’ll give you two.”

“You don’t seem to understand that this isn’t a negotiation. Three. You’re a businessman. You must realize this is a good bargain for you. Three weeks in exchange for your life.”

“Three weeks of being
good
in exchange for anything sounds absolutely unreasonable.”

“Take the deal, Prometheus.”

“You already said you would help me.”

“I agreed to help. I didn’t say how hard I was going to try.”

He cursed softly. “Three weeks?”

“Three weeks of shining, angelic behavior and I will tear hell apart to reclaim your heart.” He would be one of hers, if he lasted the three weeks, and there was nothing she didn’t do for her people.

“Done.” The word held an eerie finality.

Satisfaction lurched against her, more forcefully than she’d anticipated. “Excellent. I’ll expect you at my offices first thing Monday morning. I trust you know where they are?”

He smiled. “You trust correctly.”

She nodded, trying to look professional, like his employer rather than a woman who had been undone by a single stroke of his index finger. “Good. Now unlock this door.”

One brow arched. “That door? Was it locked?”

The door swung open an inch, bumping against her shoulders and shoving her farther into the room. “Bastard.”

He bowed. “Until Monday, Karma. Sleep well, angel.”

He disappeared into a back room before she could make a satisfyingly dramatic exit. Skulking out with those words lingering behind him, taunting her. It was as if the bastard somehow knew she’d been plagued by insomnia her entire life.

She moved out of the door’s path and it swung open all the way. Deciding it was best to take advantage of the exit before Prometheus changed his mind, she stepped out onto the sidewalk, the night air closing around her. She didn’t bother trying to slam the door behind her. It closed on its own with a near-silent click.

The warm summer night should have been comforting after the over air-conditioned shop, but she felt a more distinct chill now than she had in the damn warlock’s presence. The man was a human furnace.

If he even counted as human without a beating heart.

Karma shuddered. What had she gotten herself into? Deals with the devil were dangerous to meddle in. Why had she said yes?

Because she was a good person and she helped people. Even those who didn’t particularly deserve it. Or because Prometheus had implanted the idea that she was a good person and helping him would somehow prove that?

She strode quickly toward her car, feeling more in control with each step away from the shop. That hadn’t gone exactly as planned, but she could handle it. She could handle anything. She was still in control.

No matter what Prometheus and his wandering fingers thought.

Chapter Five

Pandora’s Insomniac

Karma woke with a jerk, sucking in air with a hard gasp ripping her throat raw. She never came awake peacefully. The visions that chased her out of her dreams prevented that.

Gulping for oxygen, she rolled to study the illuminated face of her clock. Three-twenty in the morning. She’d managed to grab two whole hours of sleep this time. Not quite a personal best, but not far from it.

Karma untangled herself from the twisted covers and climbed out of bed, setting about the soothing routine of changing the sweaty sheets for fresh, crisp linens. She wouldn’t be getting back to sleep again tonight. Her heart rate gradually slowed as her hands went through the familiar motions, tugging and smoothing the cotton-and-silk blend.

She’d been Ciara this time. And she’d been drowning. Water had gushed into her nose and mouth, burning in her lungs, a searing pain radiating through her body as something held her under.

Since Ciara was one of her finders who spent the better part of her life floating in a pool to reduce the psychic dissonance caused by her gift, the dream was terrifyingly possible. Ciara was currently at odds with her new FBI handler, but surely he wouldn’t hurt her, or allow anyone else to. Though Karma had never met the man, so she didn’t have much to go on.

Instinct demanded she
do something,
but years of experience had taught Karma how to read the dreams, even if she couldn’t control them, and this one wouldn’t come true for several more days, if it came true at all. No need to call Ciara at three in the morning in a panic.

She’d learned the hard way when she was a teenager that people generally appreciated her “hunches” more when they weren’t accompanied by pre-dawn hysteria.