"And if I fail?" I ask, spinning around when I swear I feel something touch my back.
"Then you are my meal," the voice simply tells me, this time out loud and sounding so very close to my ear. My breaths come out in smoky puffs as I turn around very slowly, holding in the whimper that threatens to leave my lips when I see the creature in front of me. It’s a dog, but not like any dog I’ve ever seen; for one thing, it’s enormous, easily the size of a grizzly bear, with a hulking back and long, terrifying claws on its paws. Its body is covered in white hair, and it has three long necks, each one ending in a very human-looking head. The faces are conniving-looking, with grinning mouths full of razor sharp teeth. Their lips are smeared with blood, some of it fresh, and it’s all I can do not to scream when I see it. It’s like something out of a waking nightmare.
"What the hell are you?" I manage to ask through my fear, not knowing which of the heads to look at first as the creature bounces over to me. It knocks me to the ground, its body hulking and monstrous as it hovers over me. Each of the three heads scrutinizes me with its dark, shiny eyes, and the weight of its body is enough to leave me gasping for breath. There would be no fighting my way out of this, even if I was able to do anything other than gape wordlessly up at this hideous creature. It feels like the heads’ eyes are boring a hole in my head, the power of the creature’s gaze enough to make me flinch. I freeze in fear as the head in the middle slowly leans down, and I feel its breath against my face - it’s not hot, the way it should be, but ice cold. As if this thing isn’t alive at all, but rather a corpse. I can make out every pore on its inhuman skin, every speck of blood that spatters its face, and my heart is pounding out of my chest. The head leans down and presses its cold lips to my forehead in the blink of an eye, and that’s when it all starts.
Darkness instantly takes over, making the world disappear into nothing more than a haze. Images flash across my mind like a play, only I have to watch, and I can’t look away. I nearly jolt from the shock when I realize that the images are of me: the sequence starts off with me as a toddler, walking to my mum and falling face flat on the floor, crying my eyes out. I don't get a second to really admire my curly hair and cute chubby face before the image changes to me as a seven-year-old. I'm standing in the playground, crying my eyes out because Jimmy Franklin just pulled my favourite hair bobble out and wouldn't give me it back. The image changes again, and again, and again. Each time, the images flash across my mind’s eye faster and faster, racing past in a whirlwind of memories that even I’ve forgotten. Everything from my high school prom night to finding out my first boyfriend cheated on me flashes by until we get to the moment where I pressed that lightning charm into my hand, setting off the spell that killed the higher god… and the chain of events that led me here.
"You have a good soul,” the voice whispers as I watch the movie play out in my mind. “You pass my test.” For a moment I’m startled - really? That’s it? But I don’t have time to think about it, as the images in my mind are already fading into the darkness, and I find myself back in the present moment. “Take a gemstone back to your leaders up above,” the voice whispers, once again in my mind, and all of a sudden, the weight is lifted from my chest. I gasp as I open my eyes, seeing that I am alone on the shore. The pain, happiness, fear and love from the memories feel burnt into my memory so much that it freezes me in place as it overwhelms me. It's too much to feel, to have forced into your mind in such a short amount of time. This test is cruel.
I eventually sit up, pushing myself to my feet and walking to the tree. I only have to reach a hand out and the vines grow, spreading until a gemstone is hovering above my hand. I wrap my hand around it, and the vine snaps, letting the stone go. The gem glows brightly, the light spreading up my arm, all over my body until it reaches my feet, and then I start to float up in the air. I laugh, feeling nothing but wonder as I float all the way up until I'm in front of a stone ledge, where Storm is stood waiting, holding a hand out. I reach for his hand as I let the stone fall into the water below and Storm pulls me further onto the ledge, smiling down at me.
"Everyone, welcome Karma Kismet to her new home!" Storm shouts, still holding my hand as the crowd behind him cheers. Maybe he isn't such an asshole after all.
Chapter 18
"You can let go of my hand now,” Storm tells me, and then glances down at me, a smirk appearing on his frustratingly-handsome face. “Or do you need me to hold it, little one?”
Little one? Nope, I take back what I said earlier. He is a total asshole. I pull my hand from his, crossing my arms and glaring up at him as I try to push all the strong emotions from the test out of my mind. I feel completely mentally drained, like I’ve just run a marathon in my own mind. And in a sense, I sort of have. I have no doubt that I’m going to need time to process what happened - not just the terror I felt, but the memories I was made to relive. Having your life summed up and forced down your throat like that isn’t a pleasant experience - it’s overwhelming, and it’s making me regret ever having taken that job in the first place. I’m sure as hell not the introspective type, and I hate having to look through some of my weakest memories like that.
I didn’t sign up for any of this.
I become aware that Storm’s eyes are very slowly beginning to drift over my body, the look on his face curious and inquisitive, but not lecherous, like I might have expected. I have no doubt my wet clothes are see-through in some places, and I shiver as I feel his gaze sweeping over me. I feel like a drowned rat, but he isn't looking at me like one. Gods, I wish he weren’t so distracting.
"You're a complete and utter asshole," I point out, moving my hands to my hips to emphasise my point and try to get his attention off my body. It’s strange - I don’t feel violated to have him looking at me; on the contrary, some part of me enjoys having his eyes on my figure. I think that’s what’s making me uncomfortable. Now’s not the time for schoolyard crushes.
Storm meets my eyes, and there is nothing but amusement on his face. “Did you just call me an asshole?” he asks in that posh, old-fashioned accent of his, cocking his head to the side. “No one has had the guts to insult me in hundreds of years.”
“Trust me, they are all thinking it,” I assure him. “They just haven’t said it to your face. Honestly, I’m surprised you’re still in charge around here, considering what a pompous prick you are.” He blinks, looking a little taken aback, and for a brief moment I wonder if I overdid it on the insults, but then he just starts grinning even more broadly. It’s almost like he knows his smile is dangerously charming, and his eyes glimmer in the dim lights of the prison as he crosses his arms over his chest. This god is distractingly handsome, and the last thing I need right now is to be distracted. What I need to be focusing on is finding out everything I can about this place. The more information I have, the easier it will be to keep myself safe… and keep the others safe, if it comes to that. It’s not that I think I can protect them any better than they can protect themselves, per se; it’s just that… I don’t know. Maybe I feel a little connected to them, since we’re all stuck in here together. Even though Seth and Killian put me in here, I don’t want to see them get ripped limb from limb by a bunch of angry prisoners.
Damn, Karma, I think to myself, are you getting soft, or what?
Either way, I’ll have to wait until the twins and Jade have passed their test, and then stick close to them. I have no doubt they will pass; the creature, whatever it was, seemed to be looking through my memories to decide if I was an ethical person. Jade won’t have any troubles; she was framed, and the creature will see that. And as for the twins… Well, they believe they’ve done nothing wrong. They might be locking up innocent people, but they don’t know that, and I suspect that creature will see that when it looks through their memories. I hope.
“I think I’m going to keep you around, Karma,” Storm decides, nodding decisively in my direction. Seriously? After I’ve just called him an asshole and wondered why the prisoners haven’t rebelled already? Clearly this guy’s lacking in the brain department, even if he’s got the body of an Adonis.
“You can try,” I tell him, “but I tend to kill assholes like you. At least, that’s what they keep telling me.” I force a grin, wondering if by now he’s heard what I did to end up in here. Considering his position here, I would be surprised if he hasn’t. “Just a warning.” I mean, to be fair, I did kill a god, but it was an accident. I don’t think I could pull it off twice… but he doesn’t know that.
He smirks, shaking his head condescendingly enough to make me bristle. Okay, maybe he does know.
“Good thing I can’t be killed then, isn’t it?” he replies, leaning down so his face is inches from mine. This close, I have a chance to appreciate every ruggedly handsome feature, his eyes shining like flames in the light of the wall sconces, his crooked smile enough to send chills down my spine, in spite of my best efforts. “Now, why are you here, little Karma? What did you do?”
I raise my eyebrows. So he hasn’t heard. Then again, maybe he has, and he just wants to hear it from me.
I clear my throat, feeling suddenly awkward under his knowing gaze. “Did you just call me little again? I’m short, not little, and that is super offensive.” Hopefully that’s enough of a misdirection for now. Somehow, I don’t feel comfortable confessing my crime to this guy. He makes me feel vulnerable somehow… exposed, and the one thing I hate more than anything is feeling exposed. I wish I had heels on so I could at least reach up and sock this god’s chin. Or just throw my heels at him and hope for the best.
“Says the girl that just called me an asshole,” he smoothly replies.
“Touché,” I mutter. He has me there.
"Storm,” comes an unfamiliar voice ahead of us, “we should get on with the next test. Everyone is waiting, and the justice gods are starting to squirm." I peer into the shadows ahead to see a young guy with dark skin, black eyes, and short grey hair. There’s a cheeky grin on his face as he says this last part, and he crosses his arms as he comes to stand by our side, giving me a passing glance as he does so. "You must be Karma,” he says, extending a hand to me. “I'm Coxen." I reach out to shake his hand, a little surprised by the friendliness, when Storm smoothly moves between us, blocking my view of Coxen so I can only see Storm’s back.
"Hey, that's rude," I protest, narrowly resisting the urge to smack his back. I decide that sidestepping him is the better option, and put my hands on my hips as I watch Storm lean down and murmur something to Coxen, his eyes flashing. I don't think touching Storm would be good for me, and not just because he’s clearly strong enough to rip my head right off my body. Nope, it's bad enough that he looks good enough to lick. I don't catch everything Storm whispers, but damn does Coxen look nervous when he pulls back.
"Coxen is going to show you to your new home,” Storm announces, taking a step back and giving the other man a curt nod. “I will come and find you later." He hesitates for a moment, looking as if he’s going to say something else, but remains silent and starts to walk off.
"Wait!" I shout at his back. He doesn’t even turn around, his posture casual as he continues to walk back to the bridge. It pisses me off to have him ignoring me like this. "You didn't give me my bag back!" I protest, thinking about Kit and my peanut butter. At this point, those are practically the only things keeping me from losing my mind in here.
"I sent it to your room,” Storm shouts back, not looking back at me. “You can thank me later!" That’s all he says before a crowd of people gathers behind him, obscuring him from view as they follow him back to the bridge. He’s really got the people around here wrapped around his finger, that’s for sure.
"He really thinks he is all that, doesn't he?" I ask, turning to Coxen, who sheepishly shrugs.
"Come on, it's one hell of a walk to your home," he tells me, nodding his head towards the back of the ledge. In the dim light, I can make out a set of stone stairs leading both up to the higher levels and down into the bowels of the building. All I can hope is that my new quarters aren’t further down; it’s claustrophobic enough in here, as it is. Coxen begins to walk up the steps, putting his hands behind his back in an overly-professional way, and I have no choice but to follow him. I shiver from the cold as we go, feeling a chilly draft sweep over me from somewhere further up ahead. The fact that I’m soaking wet doesn’t help either, and I decide that the first thing I’m going to do once I’ve settled in will be to change my clothes. A shower would be nice, too, but I’m not getting my hopes up.
I square my shoulders and begin to climb up the steps after Coxen, who doesn’t even bother to turn around to make sure I’m following him. Whatever Storm said to him earlier, it must have shaken him up pretty well. We must climb hundreds of steps, passing dozens of ledges with bridges as we go, as well as a few people who don’t make eye contact with me. They all look powerful and intimidating, and I wonder what their crimes - or perceived crimes, anyway - could be. By the time Coxen comes to a stop on a narrow stone landing, I’m thoroughly out of breath, and I have to sag against one of the cold stone walls as I catch my breath. Coxen waits for me, not saying anything.
"So," I say breathlessly, wanting to break the awkward silence and give him something other than my gasping to listen to, "what did you do to get locked up in here?"
“Me?” Coxen shakes his head. “I didn’t do anything.”
“Right,” I say. “Sure. I guess everyone in here must think they’re innocent, right?”
“What?” His brow furrows. “No, I mean… I literally didn’t do anything. My mum was the one who was locked up, not me. I…” He clears his throat, shuffling his feet awkwardly. “I was born in here eighteen years ago. I didn’t do anything, but I pay the price anyway.”
My eyes widen, my mouth dropping open in spite of myself. “Are you saying you’ve never been outside this prison before?”
Coxen nods reluctantly, a slightly pained expression appearing on his face. “This place is all I’ve ever known,” he replies, looking down at the floor as he waits for me to get my breath back. “I’ve never even seen the outside before. The only reason I know anything about the outside world is because the other prisoners have taught me about it.” I straighten up and open my mouth to speak, but he holds up a hand to keep me quiet. “And before you ask,” he says, “I don’t know what my mum did to end up in here.”
