Naughty Karma: Karmic Consultants, Book 7 (12 page)

BOOK: Naughty Karma: Karmic Consultants, Book 7
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Karma nodded, decision made. She would speak to Rodriguez in the morning, confirm that the exorcist didn’t have any misgivings after dealing with Prometheus, then make a new business arrangement with the Gray 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 power in her and she didn’t even know it. Or if she knew it, she wished she didn’t. This was a woman with incredible powers of self-denial. But she was polite. No,
thank you.

Prometheus had never seen the point of politeness.

“I won’t agree to no sex or no unethical behavior, but I’ll try to keep things legal. Good enough?”

She tapped one blood-red nail, ignoring his question. “How long will this training take?”

“Don’t rush a miracle man. You get lousy miracles.”

“I need to know how much time to allot to this in my schedule.”

“Why don’t we do it after hours? I can get back to my shop; you can do your consultant thing.” And he got her alone at night. “Everybody wins.”

“I still need to know how much time.”

“Please tell me you don’t schedule every waking minute of your day.”

She simply looked at him.
Of course she did.

“Fine, you want an answer? Honestly, I have no idea how long it’s going to take. It’s not like I make a habit of un-repressing people with stopped-up psychic gifts. And even if I did, for all I know you might be the most repressed case yet, or some kind of psychic prodigy who gets it on the first try. You’re just going to have to go with it and see what happens.”

“I don’t like playing things by ear.”

“That doesn’t surprise me, but I don’t see any other way to play it. If you want to play with me.”

“I’ll
work
with you. Can you start tonight? Seven?”

“It’s a date.”

She nodded and picked up a pen, making a note—probably writing him into her agenda. “I’ll see you tonight.”

He let her dismiss him, straightening out of his chair and offering her a bow, before turning and strolling toward the door, tossing one last dig over his shoulder as he went. “By the way, sweetheart, I can see your energy change every time we talk about sex. We both know you wouldn’t be so reluctant to talk about it if you weren’t so interested.”

He didn’t wait to see her blush.

Chapter Fourteen

Relaxation for Beginners

He was late.

Karma glared at the clock, mentally cursing Prometheus for every second of the six minutes he’d made her wait so far. It was such an obvious power play. Such a cheap ploy to prove he was the one setting the rules, establishing the schedule.

She went through her mental exercises one more time, clearing her head even though she couldn’t clear her emotions. She wasn’t used to walking into situations blind, but she hadn’t known how to prepare for her first lesson in being psychic.

Why had she thought this was a good idea? She didn’t trust him, didn’t like his methods and didn’t particularly want to spend any more time with the man who made her feel…unhinged. He challenged her in a way no one else ever had, but that wasn’t necessarily a good thing. How could he be a good choice to teach her to use her abilities? He had no moral compass. And he was late. Eight minutes and counting.

Clearly, she needed to learn to access her abilities rather than repressing them, but there had to be someone better suited to training her. Unfortunately, alternatives weren’t thick on the ground. Most of her consultants were self-trained, having figured out how to use their abilities in self-defense when they first developed. Those who had received outside training had come from religions—both eastern and western—but though the Catholic church could train a good exorcist, they weren’t much help with channels who happened to dream the future. In her experience, those who said they could help her—the “specialists” her brother had found for her over the years—were all charlatans and frauds. She’d even gone to a few shrinks, but after the third time she was asked to explain how her dreams made her
feel,
she’d lost interest in that particular line of focusing her energy.

In all the years she’d been dealing with her affliction, she’d never had a breakthrough like she’d had with Prometheus. And he’d made it seem easy. He was a cocky, unethical bastard who thought he knew everything about everyone, but he’d helped. Which was more than anyone else had ever been able to do.

But the bald truth was the man unsettled her. That was the heart of her problem with him. Was that it? Was it
her
problem? Had she been inventing a problem with his methods, his attitudes, because she was too unnerved by him to accept what he was offering? Not that she was
attracted
to him, per se, but there was no denying he was magnetic. And when he’d kissed her…

The door flew open and Karma spun toward it guiltily. Not that she had any reason to be guilty.
He
was the one who was late. It wasn’t like he could read her thoughts—thank God. That she knew of. Unless he’d been lying when he said he couldn’t read minds… No. She would not make herself crazy.

His presence consumed the room again, but this time instead of strolling around marking every inch as his, he walked straight for her. “You ready?”

Karma centered herself, drawing up her chin to face him. “You’re late.”

A dark brow lifted. “Didn’t you know when I’d be here? Isn’t that one of your little tricks?”

She hadn’t. Was he exempt? No, she’d sensed him before. Had she short-circuited her early warning system? “How do you know about that?”

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