There is something else, a prickling little itch at the edge of my consciousness. It feels like it’s just out of reach, and when I intensify my concentration, reaching out with my mind as I clench my hands into fists, it feels like a wall is slammed up. It’s like losing your train of thought, over and over again. At any rate, though, using water against this guy shouldn’t be much of a problem.
The stranger doesn’t reply, just stands there still as a statue as he stares at me. It’s unnerving, and as the seconds tick by, I can feel myself getting more and more creeped out. Even after I take a couple steps forward, I still can't see his face, but I wouldn't be sensing his fear unless he were the man I was looking for. I pull my necklace out of my dress, feeling around my charms for something to break the glass above him and flood this corridor with water. That should be karma enough, and it's my birthday, so I'm not doing more right now. I pause on the bolt charm I got today, wondering if it's not a bolt at all but a crack. Well, no time like the present to find out.
"I have been searching for you for a long time, Karma…" the man says, his voice low, gruff, and dangerous.
For a moment, my mind races - how does he know my name? Who is he? What is he? Questions race through my mind, but I’m already pressing the bolt into my palm, watching out of the corner of my eye as it begins to glow a telltale bright green. Suddenly, overwhelming power slams into my body, and I stretch my hand out to the ceiling only for green lightning bolts to shoot out of my hand and smash into the glass. Water and fish pour out of the gap, mixing with the green lightning as the force of all three strikes the man at once. I scream as my hand burns, sending a searing pain through my wrist and up my arm. None of my other charms do this when I use them, and it’s enough to terrify me even as the whole ceiling comes down on top of us. The man cries out as the lightning-filled water smothers him. We’re lucky that whatever this magic is, it’s not normal electricity; otherwise, we all would have been electrocuted the second it hit the floor. It feels like forever that the water surges over the man, drowning his screams in bubbles and crashing waves, but I’m sure it is only a few seconds before he goes silent. His screams stop suddenly, like they’ve been cut off, and his body slumps to the floor, motionless.
The power abruptly stops, and I fall to the wet floor, gasping from the pain in my hand as I lift it into the light. There are burns all over my hands. In spite of their inherent weakness, gods tend to heal from surface wounds faster than humans do, so it’s surprising to see that the burn marks aren’t receding like small injuries normally tend to. I don’t even know how long burns take to heal. A cut is a week…a burn this bad could be longer. My skin is burnt quite badly, though, that’s for sure, and I bite down on my lip as I close my hand.
What the feck just happened?
I pull myself to my feet as I hear people screaming, no doubt getting out of here as more water crashes down from the hole in the ceiling. My dress is ruined, and so are my shoes and bag… Shit. I really didn’t think this through, did I? But I can feel a new concern start to form in the pit of my stomach as I push my now sopping wet hair out of my face and stare at the man’s motionless form on the ground. No, I think, my eyes going wide as I take a tentative step towards him. No, no, no! It’s not possible! But even from this distance I can see that his chest isn’t moving.
I walk over, trembling, adrenaline surging through me, and steel myself before looking down at the man…...the very dead man. Oh god, I think, my heart pounding in my chest like I just ran a marathon, I killed someone. What the hell have I done? My body starts to shake harder as I force myself to think, and I tilt my head to the side as I take a closer look at the man’s face. His eyes are closed, his skin is tanned, and there’s no doubt in my mind that he’s a god. His features are familiar somehow, though I can’t remember seeing a god with dark red curly hair before. There is something different about him...but I can't put my finger on what exactly it is.
I reach down, grabbing his wrist and feeling for a pulse, even though I know deep down that I’m not going to find one. There is nothing, and his skin already feels like it’s starting to go cold. Oh god, I've really fucked up now. I have killed him. I didn't even know lightning was possible...it shouldn't be possible. I go to put his wrist down when I see a mark on the back of his hand. Everything slows as I turn his hand before letting it drop from my hands as the mark burns into my mind. I yelp, falling back in the water as the mark registers in my mind. The only creatures that have those kind of dragon marks. Higher gods. Holy shit, he is a higher god...and I somehow killed him. I turn around and throw up into the water, coughing up everything I've eaten today before shakily picking myself up off the floor.
"Karma!" I hear Mads shouting my name just before she comes around the corner and sees me—and the dead higher god who is now floating in the water filling up the room. Oh my god, they will take her in as a witness or even blame her if they find her here with me. I can't have that happen. I shake my head and run to her as she stands shocked, looking at the dead body as water pours from the gaping hole in the ceiling. I’m well aware that fish are swimming around my legs, and thankfully the hole isn’t big enough to let the shark in here. I’m not going to stay long enough to test that theory though. I stare at my best friend, knowing that I’ve not only threatened my life tonight but hers. If anything happened to Mads because of me, I couldn’t forgive myself.
"How did he die? Is he dead? Did you check his pulse?" Mads starts rambling out questions as I grab her arms. "We should call someone or help him! Karma, for god’s sake, talk to me!"
"I'm sorry this is how you have to find out the truth, but we need to leave right now before someone comes for him and finds us," I try to explain, but she stares at me like I’m crazy. I use my one hand to skim through my charms on my necklace until I find the bird charm and carefully press it into my burnt palm, flinching from the pain.
"What are you talking about? I think we need to get out of here, and then when the shock of seeing a dead person wears off, we can talk about what happened. I’ve heard shock can do crazy things to people," Mads mumbles on, trying to pull her hand from mine as I whisper to the charm.
"Bird, fly me home, to the place where I am safe and I feel I belong. Bird, bird, take me home. To Madison Grey's apartment. To her home." I hear Mads’s frightened scream as we disappear in a swirl of green dust, reappearing right in the middle of her apartment. She looks around her apartment as I drop the charm, and then to me with wide eyes before her eyes roll to the back of her head and she passes out. I just about catch her before she slams onto the floor, and I groan when I hear my high heel crack as we fall to the floor together. I pull Mads’s head onto my lap, hot tears streaming down my cheeks as I know she won’t forgive me for this. No one will. In one stupid second, I’ve ruined my entire life. What the hell have I done?
My family is going to kill me—if the higher gods don't get to me first, that is.
Chapter 9
I tuck Mads into her bed after dragging her across the apartment before sitting on the edge and dropping my head into my hands. The burn on my hand sends another bolt of pain up my arm, and I can’t remember the last time I’ve been hurt this badly. I had almost forgotten what it felt like. Glancing over at Mads, I feel another pang of guilt at having dragged her into all this… whatever this even is. I don’t know whether it was the shock of seeing what happened, being slammed with a tidal wave of frigid water, or the fact that magical transportation can sometimes be a shock to human systems the first few times it happens, but she passed out more or less the moment we arrived at my place. Normally I would bring her back to her place and then leave her to sleep off the night of partying, but I don’t feel comfortable leaving a human alone at home when there could be supernatural forces after the both of us. If I have to spend the night on the couch tonight, then so be it - at least she won’t be alone.
I glance down at my burnt hand, at the swollen red mark that snakes up my palm. How did this even happen? I think. This all feels like a bad dream, like I’m going to wake up at any moment, and I’m not sure if the severity of the situation has really sunk in just yet.
I killed a higher god. I'm sure I read somewhere that higher gods can't be killed, so surely this is impossible. Maybe I just saw the mark wrong, or he was a god who happened to have a tattoo just like the higher gods have. Right, I think, latching desperately onto the idea. That has to be it. I mean, is it that inconceivable that he had a tattoo like that done, just so others would mistake him for a higher god? There are privileges that they have access to, and a crafty lower god could easily finagle it so they could manipulate the rest of us. It feels farfetched, but it’s the only possibility that makes sense, and I cling to it desperately in spite of how unusual it would be. Take it easy, I tell myself, clawing my hands through my still damp hair as I try to calm my breathing. Stop freaking out. This has to all just be a misunderstanding, or a mistake, or…
I lift my head up just as Peyton appears in the room, leaving green dust in a circle all around him. He drops the rucksack he has in his hands and runs to me, pulling me into a tight hug. “Karma,” he says, squeezing me almost tightly enough to take the wind out of me, “thank the gods you’re okay.”
I laugh dryly, but there’s not much humor to it. “You’re starting to sound like Mum.”
“Damn right, I am,” he says, letting me go but keeping his hands on my shoulders so he can search my eyes. I knew it wouldn’t be long until everyone caught wind of what I did - this kind of an incident wouldn’t go unnoticed for long, even if there hadn’t been other supernaturals in the bar, so it was only a matter of time before my family would hear about it. Still, this is quicker than even I thought. Some part of me hoped deep down that I would have some time to escape, to get clear of this thing before it could reach the people I love. For a brief moment I feel a false sense of security now that Peyton is here with me, but it lasts only for a second. I’m not safe anymore. "What the fuck happened?” he demands, eyes wide as he lets go of my shoulders almost reluctantly. “The gods of justice showed up on our doorstep a few minutes ago. They started asking us all these questions about where you might be, and then they searched the house.” He shook his head disbelievingly, keeping his eyes locked with mine, a mixture of confusion, fear, and frustration flashing across his face. “They said you killed a higher god.”
“What did you tell them?” I ask, feeling a fresh surge of fear.
“I told them the truth, obviously,” he replies. “I told them my sister couldn’t kill a fly if she tried - literally - but they kept insisting that they had proof.” His face takes on a determined look, his tone going businesslike. “It has to be a mistake, that’s the only explanation. I mean, it’s physically impossible. Listen, though, Karma, we’re going to sort this out. We’ll talk to someone, figure out some way to prove to them that you couldn’t have…” He trails off when he looks back at me, and it must be written all over my face that something more is afoot here. “What?” he asks, moving closer. “Karma, what is it? This is a mistake, isn’t it?”
"Oh shite, Pey,” I say, my shoulders slumping. The weight of my situation is finally crashing down on me. “I was hoping I got it all wrong. He really was a higher god," I say, starting to really panic as the shock continues to wear off. Peyton drops his hands, staring at me like I’ve just told him the world is flat or that Mum died. And there’s something else on his face, something that lights a fire of anxiety in the pit of my stomach. Peyton looks scared.
It doesn’t help the situation. I need my smartass brother to help me figure out what to do here. Peyton has always had my back, not just in the little things, like my screw-up yesterday (which is beginning to feel smaller and smaller in comparison to what I’ve done tonight), but in the big things, too. Sometimes I feel like I can come to him with problems I can’t even bring up to Mum and Dad, so seeing genuine fear on his face only makes my panic grow.
I kick my other shoe off and push past my brother, needing to move around and do something, anything. I head for the door, pausing for a moment to check on the sleeping Mads before going into the hallway. “Where are you going?” Peyton asks, following me.
“I don’t know,” I reply, shaking my head as I enter the kitchen. “I feel like I can’t sit still. I need to think. I need to…” But thinking is hard when it feels like I just grabbed a flat iron with my bare hand, and I find myself looking around before I’m really even sure what I’m looking for. You know that drawer that everyone has somewhere in their house, that one where all the random junk that doesn’t have a place of its own goes? It turns out that Mads has one of those, too, right next to where she keeps the silverware, and I pull it open, rummaging through clutter and knick knacks until I find what I’m looking for: a bandage and tape. I tie the bandage around my hand, using my teeth to rip the end before taping it down. I look up to see Peyton rubbing his face, watching me with concern. I move past him as quickly as I came, returning to her room and giving her another glance to make sure she’s okay.
Peyton only just seems to be noticing the sleeping Mads, and he looks down at her, his brow furrowing. "Why is your friend in bed, passed out?" he asks. I’m about to reply, but then I just turn and wave my hands in the air, making it clear we have bigger problems. Mads being passed out really isn’t on the top of our list of problems right now - in fact, our situation might be slightly easier now that we don’t have to worry about explaining this all to her. "Right,” he says, shaking his head, “doesn't matter. Just tell me what happened.”
I take an unsteady breath, crossing my arms over my chest. “Where are the justice twins now?” I ask, not sure if I really want to know the answer. They could already be on Mads’ doorstep, for all I know. The only reason Peyton is able to transport to where I am is because he has a charm that allows him to; the gods probably have one of their own, or the ability to get one, at the very least. Either way, time isn’t on my side here.
“Damien and Hugo are distracting the justice twins with mum and dad, but I don't have long,” Peyton replies, and then corrects himself: “You don’t have long, Karma."
“Okay,” I say, slumping back onto the bed and trying to get my thoughts in order. “Okay. I’ll tell you what happened. I had a karma job today. His name was something old and Greek-sounding. I googled him, since it was so unusual, and ended up finding out that he has this posh club not far from here.” I take a breath, staring down at my bandaged hand and flexing my stinging fingers. “Anyway, Mads said she wanted to go out tonight for my birthday. So I took her there - I figured this would be a chance to hit two birds with one stone. And then…” And then maybe I could prove I wasn’t such a fuck-up, I finished in my mind, but couldn’t bring myself to say it out loud. I shook my head and continued. “Turns out, the place is owned by gods - I can almost guarantee it. The bouncers weren’t human, that much is for sure. And the whole place was like a fish tank - there was water everywhere. Anyway, that doesn't matter, though.”
“So what happened next?” Peyton asked, watching me intently without a smidge of humor on his face.
I clear my throat. “I thought the guy was human, and sensed he was fearful of water. I should have been more careful - if I hadn’t been so eager to get the job done and get out of there, I could have checked to make sure he wasn’t a supernatural. Anyway, you know how mum gets me those charms for my birthday every year?”
He nods. “Of course.”
“So she gave me one today, and I used it. I didn’t know what it did. It ended up creating this green lightning, and the next thing I knew, water was pouring out a hole in the glass ceiling. I think the lightning must have mixed with the water and killed the guy… except he wasn’t a guy, not really. And I fucking killed him by accident.” I lean forward, putting my head between my legs. I suddenly feel lightheaded, as if explaining everything that happened somehow makes it more real. There’s a ringing in my ears, and I tell myself to breathe, but that’s difficult when it feels like the world is falling apart. “Fuck,” I say again, and then look back up at Peyton. “Oh my god, they are going to send me to that correctional facility that no one ever comes out of.” My eyes widen, my heart beginning to hammer in my chest. I realize I’m breathing hard, and I probably look like a crazy person. It dawns on me that this is the second outfit I’ve ruined in the past twenty-four hours, and the thought is almost enough to make me laugh hysterically. But not quite.
The supernatural prison isn’t the kind of place anyone wants to be. It’s where the gods of justice put all the bad gods, all the monsters of the world. It’s more or less lawless, the kind of place people never get out of. There’s no such thing as unfair punishment in the magical world, and given the nature of the higher gods, it’s not like I’m going to get a fair trial if they get their hands on me. No - if they do, I’m never coming out, and I won’t last a day. My attitude in life has always been to run away the second things start to look difficult or impossible to survive. That place would make my life motto pretty shite.
The prospect of me getting thrown in jail for the rest of my life is enough to snap Peyton out of his panic, and a look of determination appears on my face as he puts a hand on my shoulder. "No,” he says firmly. “They are not going to blame you for this. That higher god had bad karma coming his way, god or not. Just because he’s a god, that doesn’t mean he’s exempt from the rules of the universe, right?” I open my mouth to respond, but he continues. “I mean, it was an accident, and they have to see that.”
“How?” I ask, throwing my hands up. “How the hell are we supposed to do that, Peyton? We’re just a couple of lesser gods, and we don’t even know the specifics of the situation yet!”
