Karma Box Set (Karma 0.5-4)

The adrenaline of the fight leaving me, I started to shake even more violently. Tears were flowing down my face and I didn't care. I was starting to believe I had died. I was pretty sure I was also having a mental break of some sort. Well whoop de do for me, checks all around.

I looked at Harold, trying to pretend Fate wasn't in the car.

“What was that back there? That feeling of impending doom when I saw Charlie?” Even with my sanity teetering on the edge, I knew it wasn't just in my head. It had been palpable.

“That was the universe at work. There are certain things that it will not allow. Know this, and know it well...it will never let you disclose any of its true secrets.”

“What would have happened?”

“Exactly what you thought. That's why you stepped away, isn't it?” Fate spoke this time.

“Why did you just drop me off if you knew this was going to happen?” Even in my altered state, and I was positive I wasn't thinking right anymore, I could see it as the set up it was. They'd dropped me off knowing exactly what I'd go do.

“Transfers are predictable.” I could almost feel the baritone of Fate's voice. “They all do the exact same thing. Sooner or later it happens so we try and get it out of the way early. It's normally messy but not usually this bad.”

I sat back against the tan leather, tears still streaming down my face and I realized I'd made the largest mistake of my life. Or death.

I was loosing my mind and Harold was still sitting there, his lap full of papers, just another day at the office.

Fate didn't budge from my side. I could feel the tension in his body where it pressed against my side. He was waiting for me to do something stupid.

“I don't want to do this.” I kept shaking my head from side to side. “I wasn't ready. I don't want to die. I'm too young.”

Harold shook his head. “Few do.”

Fate shifted next to me. “Death isn't reserved for the old. It doesn't sit idly by and wait for you to do everything you wanted. It comes on its own timetable, whether you're ready or not.”

“Then put me back or send me wherever? Send me where I was supposed to go.”

Harold barely glanced my way before he responded. “I can't. Not now anyway. Even if I use the trial clause to terminate you, there is a mandatory thirty day period before you are eligible.”

He shuffled through the papers until he found the one he was looking for.

A sheet of paper was slipped in front of my face, his pen pointing to the spot that was in boldface that I knew stated a time period.

I pushed his hand and paper away and looked to the side.

“Thirty days. I'm stuck here, on Earth – alive but dead to everyone who matters to me.”

“Yes.”

A month wasn't that long. I could kill a month. I dragged a hand across my cheek. “If you could just drop me off at that condo and pick me up in a month when it's time—”

“No, that won't work. Non-involvement voids the termination clause.”

I turned to Harold, ready to beg, flat out grovel if need be. “I made a mistake. I thought I was going to be able to talk to them. I can't watch them grieve for me. I just can't. I can do anything but that.”

“I knew Texas would've been a better fit.”

“The location doesn't matter. I know they’re there.” I was having a hard time speaking. My teeth were rattling in my head like I was stuck in a snowstorm.

“Look at her,” Fate said. “She might not make it anyway. Not all of them do.”

There was an edge to his voice that made me want to back further into the corner of the car.

“You should've passed when you saw it was a transfer.” He leaned forward, toward Harold, and I got the impression he wanted to throttle him. The way Harold leaned back, he seemed afraid of that exact thing.

“How many times do I have to tell you I couldn't? I had to fill the spot.”

“And I have to deal with this.”

“This will run its course in a matter of days.”

And then I stopped caring what they were saying. Something very bad was happening to me. I couldn't stop shaking or catch my breath enough to get a word out. I pulled my legs up and tried to shrink into myself. I closed my eyes and pretended I was alone. I needed to get a grip.

“Camilla, this will pass,” I heard Harold say.

“And if it doesn't?” Fate asked. “She's a wreck and it hasn't even been an hour. Can't imagine what she'll be like tonight. And if she doesn't make it, it's doing irreparable damage. She'll be a nut case in her next life.”

“We needed a Karma. She's it, for better or worse. At least for the next thirty days.”

I wanted to know what he was talking about but I didn't trust myself to speak. And this was all before the real pain started.





Chapter Three


“You've got to eat.”

It was him. Fate. He was holding a sandwich next to my mouth and I tried to shove his hand away. Everything hurt. It felt like every nerve I possessed was on fire at the same time. My skin hurt where it touched the bed. I'd turn but that just made something else hurt.

“You're adjusting to not having your human covering anymore.”

Even the sound of his voice seemed to be louder.

“All of your senses are overly heightened right now, but this will only last another day or so.”

I moaned at the thought. Another day? I couldn't take another minute.

“I feel like I'm dying again.”

“But you're not. I won't let you.” He pushed the sandwich to my lips. “Eat.”

I tried to shove the food away but he grabbed my wrist. The firm contact on my skin made me gasp but no matter how I pulled back, he wouldn't let go.

“Eat.” I took a bite of the sandwich just to get him to let me go.

“Please, just leave me alone,” I said after I swallowed.

“I wish I could.”

He wouldn't leave until I ate and drank some water. Then I passed out again.

***

I awoke in a strange bedroom that I guessed was in the condo I'd initially been given the keys to.

Sitting up, I felt surprisingly good, considering what I'd felt like a day ago.

I clearly remembered Harold driving us back to the condo. Beyond that point, all my memories were filtered through the lens of agony. I'm not sure how I made it to the bed I was now lying upon. I was in the same clothes I'd worn when this all began, however long ago that was.

I pushed greasy locks of hair from my face as I looked to the bedside table. A sandwich, sitting barely eaten by my bedside, jogged a memory. I'd begrudgingly taken a few bites and only because of the threat of Fate, the animal that had stayed here with me.

Nursemaid he was not. All I remembered was while I'd writhed in pain, he'd screamed for me to toughen up. That I was being weak. When I wouldn't eat, he forced it on me.

I felt his presence in the room and I pushed myself up into a sitting position.

“So you're up?” he said, looking at my disheveled state. His features were hard and angular, nothing you would describe as pretty, but still if he wasn't such a scary bastard I would have described him as handsome.

“Get out.”

“You're welcome.”

“You think I'm going to thank you?”

“Somebody will come by tomorrow to bring you into the office.” He strolled out of the room and I heard the condo door shut.

So this was to be home for the next month. I looked around the bedroom. Everything was new, from the comforter to the dresser with the large mirror above it. There was an ocean painting hanging on the white walls, as if to clue you in that you were at a beach, just in case you somehow forgot. The place looked like a summer rental before it acquired that well-worn look after a few seasons of use and profit.

The ceramic tiles were cold under my feet as I crossed to the door, avoiding looking in the mirror, afraid to see the foreign reflection.

The rest of the place was quaint, with a small galley type kitchen and a breakfast bar that opened to the main living area. All low-end beach motif decor that screamed don't forget where you are. Definitely a summer rental. It made sense. There would be fewer long-term residents asking nosy neighbor questions.

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