Twisted Karma Page 9

  “I had to prove a point.”

  “You definitely did,” Death said. “It’s probably no surprise someone paid me to send a death dealer after you.”

  “Wouldn’t be the first time,” Wynn replied.

  “You can take your chances with me or cash in a favor. According to the Oracle, you managed to wrangle three favors out of my predecessor. I have no idea how, and I don’t want to know,” Gabriel said.

  As much as he hated wasting favors, Wynn also understood all his planning was useless if he died-dead again. “Favor,” he said without hesitation.

  Gabriel held out his hand, and Wynn shook it. Coolness trickled into him. He was sealing the deal with his word – and Karma’s. As her mate, his agreements were enforceable with her power. Gabriel would feel it.

  “Paid in full,” Gabriel said. “I have a feeling the client will be back. You might not have any favors by the end of tomorrow.”

  “I’ve assessed as much.” Wynn leaned against the railing. “A favor in exchange for you not issuing any more hits against me for the time being.”

  “Pick a timeframe. You have too many enemies for me to make this an eternal favor.”

  Wynn smiled. “One week.”

  “Done.”

  They shook again. Down two favors, Wynn made a mental note to trade one of his other favors to any deity or Immortal owed one by Death. He needed two; the second would be for self-defense in situations such as this one. Once others discovered his plan, Death himself could come for Wynn.

  “Pleasure doing business with you,” Gabriel said and moved away from the railing.

  “You didn’t ask me why my oath now carries the weight of a deity’s,” Wynn observed.

  “It’s your business, Wynn.”

  “Why would she tell you?”

  “Maybe we hang out,” Gabriel said.

  Wynn’s mind was in the middle of calculating who he could pressure for another favor. When he heard Gabriel’s response, his scheming stopped and was replaced by Karma. He turned toward the ominous form of Death.

  “We drink wine on the beach,” Gabriel added with a smile.

  One of Wynn’s eyebrows lifted. An unpleasant feeling trickled through him, one he didn’t want to acknowledge was linked to the bond he hadn’t decided how to deal with. The fact he felt this way after a few minutes with Karma demonstrated how futile it would be to break the bond, even if it were possible.

  Karma and the bond were both violating the calculated nature of Wynn’s world.

  Death laughed. “You got a problem with that, don’t you?”

  Wynn did, and didn’t think he should have. “What she does doesn’t concern me,” he said diplomatically.

  “You have to know you’re fucked,” Gabriel said. “She’s the one foolish enough to think she can walk away.”

  “I assume she paid you with a favor,” Wynn said, ignoring him. “Just one?”

  “If you’re asking if I took advantage of her, the answer is no,” Death replied. “But I’m not the only deity she spoke to. I’ve been a god for less than two years, and even I can see she’s way out of her league.”

  Wynn was quiet. Calm on the surface, he was boiling inside. Karma was taking up his time and favors as well as derailing his focus.

  “According to my mate, you mastered the game the deities have played since the time-before-time with skill no one else has been able to emulate, aside from Darkyn and Fate. I know you’re incapable of caring for anyone,” Gabriel said. “But respecting the codes, if nothing else, how could you throw her to the wolves?”

  “I offered to help. She refused,” Wynn said and shrugged.

  “The man who outsmarted my predecessor more than twice wouldn’t even bother offering. He would have already outmaneuvered everyone involved. Only Fate would see it coming.”

  “Your answer is right there. This game doesn’t interest me. She’s insignificant,” Wynn replied.

  “And she wants you taken to the Underworld.” Gabriel shook his head. “I don’t need Fate to tell me if you don’t interfere, we’ll all go down in flames. You know she won’t come to you no matter how many times you offer. She’s reckless, impulsive and ready to snap.”

  Wynn clenched his teeth hard enough for the muscles of his jaw to tick.

  “You’re too smart for any of this to be news to you,” Death finished. “Her brother was relatively patient with me when I ascended to my position. He gave me a simple piece of advice. If you don’t figure it out, we’re all fucked.” He summoned a portal. “Get your house in order, Wynn.” He disappeared into the place-between-places.

  Wynn turned his back to his chamber and rested his forearms on the railing. He seethed in silence, not because Gabriel had told him anything new, but because he’d figured all this out the second Karma’s name appeared on his arm. He’d never been as shocked by anything in his life, not only because he had a mate, but because she was it.

  He’d been lying to himself about being able to push her away or ignore her and what she was doing. He’d made a half-assed attempt to prevent the worst outcome – a confrontation with Darkyn – but he’d turned a blind eye to anything else that could happen. The goals he’d been working towards for two lifetimes had been the singular focus of his ambition for tens of thousands of millennia. He couldn’t let one woman or a fucking antiquated ritual disrupt them.

  Karma was a wild card he hadn’t predicted, couldn’t ignore and worst of all, couldn’t control. It didn’t help that he experienced the primal urge to claim her every time they interacted. It was hunger far stronger than lust, deeper than love, and too consuming to resist. The mating bond he’d witnessed others suffer through, and led him to dismiss all of them as weak, was every bit the formidable compulsion he couldn’t resist but also couldn’t afford to entertain.

  The easiest solution didn’t involve constraining her movement or imprisoning her or even speaking to her. It involved him revealing the secret that they were mated, and he wasn’t prepared for what that entailed. He wouldn’t be able to operate beneath the radar, and Karma would instantly be recognized as his vulnerability. With more enemies than lovers, Wynn lost count of the vultures waiting to find his weakness.

  Perhaps, if he could control her through a different means, without alerting the vultures, he’d have the space and maneuver room he cherished. He needed to influence her decisions and freedom without infringing upon his own.

  How did one touch a flame without being burnt?

  “I hope this party is better than the last one,” Stephanie muttered as she slid her feet into the uncomfortable blue high heels that matched her gown. “For someone who hates people, Wynn throws a lot of parties.”

  Trayern and Mithra listened without responding, likely because neither cared.

  When she was ready, Stephanie moved away from the mirror.

  The last party Wynn had thrown ended with demons eating several of his guests. He’d threatened Stephanie’s life that night in order to discover who her mate was. Fate had stepped up rather than see her hurt, despite knowing a political play when he saw one.

  She released a deep breath. Whenever she thought of him, she wanted to crawl into her bed and never leave.

  “Your goal is to discover the answers to the following questions.” Trayern handed her two notecards with questions written neatly on them.

  “Without alerting the people who have the answers,” Mithra added. The guardian angel had taken an usual interest in Trayern’s games.

  “How does this teach me strategy?” she asked and took the cards.

  “The first step is to find out what your opponent wants, then you can make a plan to fuck him over,” Trayern explained with the eloquence only a demon possessed.

  “This is how demons manipulate people. It’s crude but effective,” Mithra said. “When dealing with people, it’s good to identify their strengths as well as their weaknesses. What they love and value can be either or both.”

  “I’d nev
er thought of it that way,” she said with a frown. “I collect information on these people and then what?”

  “We plan how to fuck them up and how they intend to fuck you up,” Trayern answered.

  Mithra glared at the demon in disapproval.

  Stephanie studied the names on the card. She was starting with Immortals. How long would it take before she could outmaneuver a deity?

  “These are the heads of the ten most influential families in the Immortal society,” she said. “You want me to determine how to manipulate them, if I need to.”

  “And if they’re a threat to you,” Trayern said.

  “Threat?” she echoed. “Why would anyone want to hurt me?”

  Trayern made a sound of frustration. He smacked her upside the head hard enough to sting.

  “I swear to god, Trayern. One day, I’m going to order you beheaded!” she snapped and shoved him.

  “Try it, half-breed!” he growled and pushed her in return.

  “Children,” Mithra said and lifted his cane between them. “No potential Council leader would go around shoving demons. You can’t stoop to their level.”

  “I can’t stand him being around! Always two fucking inches from me! I can’t breathe without running into him!” she exclaimed. “How did you know about Wynn wanting to turn over the Council to me?”

  Trayern grinned, and Mithra sighed.

  “It’s official,” Trayern grinned. “Darkyn called it.”

  “It’s not official,” she replied. “I heard it through indirect sources not from Wynn.”

  The demon ignored her. “Thanks for confirming it.”

  The possibility Trayern and Mithra were both working on creating their own leverage to use against her had never crossed her mind. They had access to the potential new leader of the Immortals; they’d be crazy not to collect information to create their own leverage down the road or learn how she thought, so they could predict her actions. Trayern wasn’t solely building a profile but seeking ways to fuck her over.

  She understood Trayern to be an asshole, but Mithra? Stephanie wanted to believe guardian angels were the good guys. Anymore, she didn’t think there were any good guys.

  “Fuck you both,” she said icily.

  “Welcome to the real world, baby Immortal,” Trayern said.

  If she didn’t think he’d retaliate, Stephanie would have punched the demon. As it was, she didn’t feel like attending the soiree with a black eye.

  “The good news is that you’re able to ask these questions now without anyone suspecting you of being next in line to lead the Council,” Mithra said. “Is my bowtie straight?”

  It wasn’t, but Stephanie wasn’t about to help the lazy angel by fixing it.

  “It’s perfect,” she lied. She tucked the cards into her clutch. “All right. Let’s get this over with.”

  She departed her chamber for the second floor, where the ill-fated soiree of several months ago had also been held. Couples were entering the ballroom, and soft orchestral music drifted out of the chamber. With Trayern trailing her, and Mithra a floor behind, Stephanie entered the ballroom.

  It was packed. A dozen couples waltzed on the dance floor. Most of the people seemed content talking in small groups or circulating amongst others. Servants passed out wine and champagne and staffed a full bar along one wall.

  Wynn caught her eye across the room, near the balcony. There was no missing his tall frame, aloofness and intensity. He stood out among the partygoers and anywhere else he was. The two of them looked too much alike to not be related.

  She was struck again by the question of how he managed to outmaneuver or intimidate anyone. He held no power, compared to the deities, and yet, everyone in the world seemed to know to avoid him.

  Whatever it was, it started with his presence, which could chill an iceberg in winter. His stature rivaled that of an ancient king and perhaps, that was what he had been. No one knew, least of all Stephanie.

  She pulled her eyes away from him and began searching for her targets. He’d made her learn the names and faces of the head of the ten major Immortal clans over the past few weeks. She’d studied their files in the collection of folders Kiki had made her as part of her orientation to the Immortal world.

  “Start there.” Trayern nudged her.

  She followed his gaze. The head of one clan stood alone, without his mate, who was speaking with a group of women. She recognized his eyes, even if she’d forgotten his name. It was Kris’ uncle. The mothers of five of Wynn’s sons had been socially elite members of the five most important clans. According to Kiki’s files, Wynn had murdered each of the women to prevent them and their clans from having influence over him or the children.

  Stephanie would never understand how violence to this extent went unchecked.

  “Why him?” she asked.

  “Because he’s hiding something.”

  Stephanie studied the man. He gripped his wine glass tight enough for his knuckles to whiten. He was stiff, but not in the way Wynn was. Wynn could simultaneously appear noble and relaxed; his stiffness was more of carriage than emotion.

  The clan leader, however, appeared to be ready to snap. His lips were pressed together in a thin line, and his eyes were never still. He was sweating already, and the night had only begun.

  She never would’ve assumed he was hiding something, though.

  The demon’s instincts had been honed over many lifetimes; she reluctantly trusted his gut.

  Stephanie walked towards the man and smiled when he caught her eye.

  His smile was quick and nervous.

  Wynn will kill me if he finds out I’m involved in her murder. The fear, buried deep in his mind, slammed into her brain. She missed a step and ended up colliding with him. The clan leader caught her arm and stopped her fall.

  Aware they were being watched, and confronting him about his thought would give everything away, Stephanie forced a smile she hoped was convincing.

  “I’m so sorry!” she exclaimed. “It’s these heels. I don’t wear them often.” Her face was warm. Reeling from the revelation of his fear, she had to remind herself of what she was doing and what question to ask him.

  They spoke, but she heard little of what he said. Instead, she nodded and smiled and counted the seconds before it was appropriate for her to excuse herself. No other secrets emerged from his mind, and he readily answered the question she posed to him.

  When her assignment was complete, and enough time had passed, Stephanie shook his hand again and moved away.

  Rather than head towards one of her other targets, she started towards the entrance.

  “You’re going where?” Trayern caught her arm and yanked her to a halt.

  She sucked in a deep breath.

  Wynn will kill me if he finds out I’m involved in her murder. She looked around, suddenly uneasy amidst the crowd she hadn’t viewed as a threat before.

  “Immortal,” Trayern growled. He gripped her jaw and turned her face towards him, forcing her to look at him.

  She wrenched away. “Why would anyone want to kill me?” she asked, startled.

  “Three reasons: breakfast, lunch, dinner.”

  “Not you,” she replied. “The people here. Why would any of them want to kill me?”

  “You are a threat or someone’s weakness. Those are generally the two main reasons.”

  She studied him. The creature who never stopped complaining that he couldn’t eat the castle’s servants never ceased to surprise her with his thoughtful observations. “That man wanted to kill me. I heard his fear of being discovered by Wynn.”

  Trayern cocked his head to the side. “Really?” By the sarcasm in his voice, he already knew.

  She expelled a frustrated breath and started away.

  “We’re not leaving,” he said without releasing her.

  “Aren’t you worried someone might try to murder me again?”

  “My guard was down around Wynn. It’ll never happen again,” Trayer
n replied. “If one person here wants you dead, I guarantee there are more who do as well. Use your ability and find out who. Know your enemy.”

  Stephanie stood still, calming herself with deep breaths, but unable to suppress the hurt and anger bubbling within her. She wanted to take over to help these people escape the madness of Wynn, and they wanted her dead?

  “This world is fucked up,” she muttered.

  “If you don’t do this, you die.”

  Fear and anger tangled within her.

  Trayern pushed her in the direction of the second target.

  With some trepidation, and a whole lot of building anger, Stephanie went. It was no longer a game or about developing leverage on the Immortal clan leaders.

  This was personal. Her life depended on her ability to obtain information the clan leaders didn’t want her to know. Whether the people in the room knew it, she was their best – and currently only – chance of surviving.

  Several hours later, Stephanie had identified four clan chiefs who wanted her dead: Kris’ uncle, Tamer’s cousin, along with relatives of the two brothers killed by Darkyn – Erik and Sasha.

  She didn’t deserve to be a target, but she also found it hard to blame them. They had likely allied with her brothers in their failed attempt at a coup and, barring the support from Wynn’s family, still sought to overthrow Wynn. Had Wynn murdering the mothers of his children sowed the seeds years ago? Or was this politics as usual among the Immortals?

  Stephanie was disturbed by the idea she didn’t know the answer and couldn’t eliminate the instinct warning her Wynn’s violence was not limited to his family. The hardened clan chiefs had come to power in an environment where violence was the default answer. Assassinations were very possibly another aspect of the Immortals’ political minefield she’d yet to learn about.

  Fate’s theory about the Immortals being on the brink of imploding or civil war had a foundation. If the four clan chiefs decided to challenge Wynn and assassinate his family, then the other six clans were likely to oppose. She’d sensed no signs of disloyalty in the minds of the others. If her family were out of the way, the society was likely to crumble from the inside out or at the very least, become so distracted by the strife, deities like the Dark One could make his move.