JINXED: (Karma Series, Book Two) (4 page)

Chapter Four

A past that won’t stay dead
.

The electronic doors of the local Wal-Mart swung open. It was the only place that carried this particular brand of polish, so it was here or pay for shipping.

This place was always so busy that it had taken me a while to build up enough karma stamina. Even now, a gentleman paused his cart at the opening of an aisle to allow me to pass first, and I had to focus on not throwing up from the stench of him. I used to think people who did that would always have good karma. Not even close.

The people with the worst karma often had a foul smell, which lingered around them. But the people with really good karma smelled like a spring day in a garden full of roses. In the beginning, I'd actually found myself following a few of them unintentionally.

Between the pretty glow and the sweet scent, I just sort of got sucked in. I'd follow a couple of people home by accident, but after a few calls to the police, I was more careful. Now, I made sure I concentrated when I walked down the aisles. It was really embarrassing to be called out as a stalker and the Universe didn't always shield me from things like that. Somebody in charge definitely had a warped sense of humor.

Surrounded by the overwhelming smell of cleaning supplies on either side, I wasn't prepared for what I suddenly sensed. I almost choked on the smell of a bad karma so strong that it radiated outward, even when the person wasn't in clear view. It wasn’t just the smell, either. There was a feeling of spiders crawling all over my skin.

I'd felt it a week ago, but I hadn't been able to find the source. I'd been driving down the road when it had hit. I'd tried to turn around, but it was gone by time I did. I'd driven up and down different streets for hours with no lead. I wasn't losing it again.

The smell and feeling were so strong, I feared I wouldn't be able to handle it up close, but that didn't stop me. I dashed down the aisle, and made a right. No, not that way. I backtracked toward the toys.

Then it was there at the end of the bike aisle. He couldn't have been more than fourteen. I stood there, frozen in my spot by the atrocity I saw before me. He wore shorts and a t-shirt, and everywhere I looked, his skin was blackened as if it had been burnt. Cracks ran up and down his exposed skin, oozing a constant drain of pus.

He turned and looked at me. At first I thought it was because he'd caught me staring, and it was retaliatory glare, but then he smiled like he knew me. He was human; he couldn’t possibly know me.

He was with two other friends and I heard him telling them he'd be right back. He walked toward me, dripping ooze as he came. Someone would trip on that ooze later and never have any idea why they fell.

Flashes of what he'd already done in this life hit me; animals mutilated, smaller children beaten. I wasn't surprised by anything I saw. You weren't oozing like that as a teenager unless you had some
horrible
acts on your resume already.

What shocked me and made my breath catch was when images from another century came slamming into me. How could this be? Was I sensing what he'd done in a past life? This had never happened before.

Bodies bloodied everywhere. Images of the worst part of war, people in agony, loss on a level rarely seen.

A swastika.

He kept walking toward me and I took a step back. I caught myself before I took another. It was hard; the pure evil of what was heading my way instinctively repelled every cell in my body.

He stopped a foot away from where I stood. “I was wondering when we'd meet.”

“You know me?” No way.

He smiled then nodded. “I know you and I know myself.”

He knew who he used to be. Maybe that was why I could pick up on it?

I'd heard of something similar to this recently, in the office. Death and Jockey were having a discussion about it last week. Jockey was saying how sometimes a person’s past life would leak into their dreams.

When I asked how this could happen, Death explained that when people crossed, strong emotions and images were harder to shed with their mortal skin. They leaked into their new body’s subconscious. Neither of them had any idea what happened after they crossed completely. Everything that happened after retirement was a mystery to everyone I’d spoken to.

But still? This wasn't just glimpses from a dream. He knew. No one would believe me, but here was living proof it could happen. He knew it, and reveled in the glory of what he'd been, and what he still was.

I wanted to kill him. It must have been there in my eyes, because he said as much in his next words.

His lips curled upward as he spat out the words. “Try it.”

I couldn’t remember the last time I’d wanted to accept a challenge more in my life, or death. Right there, in the middle of Wal-Mart, I lifted my hands to snap his neck but stopped. If I killed him, he'd be reborn and I'd lose him into the Universe, maybe not find him again until it was too late. If I let him live, I could watch him and possibly contain him. My arms dropped but my fists were still clenched.

“Yeah, I thought so.” He made a half laugh that held no joy whatsoever.

“What's your name?” It was a dare of my own, and I hoped he had the balls to tell me.

“Henry Starcher.” He said it proudly without a flinch, goading me to do my worst.

“We'll see who wins this.” I'd have to skin this cat in a different way. But in the end, he'd be just as bald.

“Do your best.” He turned, heading back to his friends like just another cocky kid of fourteen and not the monster I knew him to be.

He was halfway down the aisle when the bike rack collapsed on him. His wails immediately filled the store. The two broken legs he’d have should put him out of commission for the next six weeks. After that, I'd figure something else out.

“I'm going to get you for this,” he yelled in my direction.

“If you can't handle this, you certainly can't handle my best. You shouldn't fuck with Karma.” I didn’t realize what I’d said until I stepped away. There was no denying it; every day I lost more of who I’d been, the human attorney, and became more of what they wanted. Karma. Now I just had to decide if it was a good thing or not.

People were running toward the aisle to find the source of agonizing screams as I walked away, back toward the cleaning aisle. Not really in the mood to browse, after meeting one of the worst souls to have ever walked the Earth, I grabbed the polish and headed to the checkout.

That's when I saw her. I immediately wished I were back in the toy aisle, because here was someone who scared me worse than the leader of the Third Reich.

She was standing in line, putting some items on the conveyor belt. Home items, dish detergent, garbage bags, etc. Every time she lifted another item from her cart, the light caught the diamond on her left hand.

It was huge, probably twice the size mine had been. It wasn't just the ring; she
looked
happy. No one looks like that buying cleaning supplies, unless they're stupid or in love. I'd been dead less than two months. Sixty days! And he'd already proposed?

Then her head poked up. She scanned the store until she settled on a spot behind me. She yelled, “Hurry up!” It wasn't a nagging yell, but a playful,
where've you been and come back to my side
, type.

I knew it was him; Charlie, my fiancé. The way her face lit up told me everything. Polish leaked onto my fingers from squeezing the container in my hand.

Walk away. Put down the polish and just walk away without looking. Seeing this would do me no good whatsoever. If I walked away, if I didn't see it, it's like it didn't happen. Just like all those dead trees that fell in the forest, right?

Sure, like I could do it. No one I'd ever met in my life, or death, would've been capable of looking away from their ex with a new person. I had to look, and I knew even before I did it was going to kill me a little.

Charlie, my former fiancé—now hers—ran through the store with a bag of chips in one hand and a DVD in the other. He was the picture of domestic bliss and looked healthier and happier than ever.

“They had one copy left.” He put the items on the conveyer belt, wrapped his left arm around her waist and kissed the top of her head. It wasn't a fatherly kiss; it was the type you give to someone who is precious to you.

In all the time we'd been together, he'd never kissed me like that, not once. I would've remembered it.

She lifted her face to him, like a flower soaking in every ounce of sun it could get. In return, the adoration beamed from him. A look passed between them that said without words,
you are my everything
.

She lowered her head and caught sight of me, standing not even ten feet away, silently inserting myself into their moment by my awkward and unwanted attention. I watched as she nudged him and motioned toward me, the interloper.

He looked my way and recognition flickered across his face. He remembered me, but not the woman he used to be with; the crazy woman from his parking lot. I was the whacko who used to watch him at the luncheonette. He got that look, the one people get when dealing with someone mentally unbalanced and they aren’t sure how to proceed or extricate themselves from an uncomfortable situation.

They turned away, obviously deciding that the best course of action was to pretend I wasn't there. I put the polish on an empty shelf and headed for the door. I shouldn't have turned back again, but I did.

My retreat making them more comfortable, they watched me leave. And as I did, I could make out the word “crazy” when he spoke. They threw their heads back in laughter, before returning their attention back to their items.

I left the store but not the parking lot. Instead, I sat in my Honda as they came out. They got into his car looking truly happy, not a care in the world, the crazy woman already forgotten.

Chapter Five

Whiskers of wisdom

There was a pounding at my condo door.

“Who is it?” I yelled from my position, lounging on the couch, the manual on my lap.

“Luck.”

I moaned aloud. She wasn’t going to be easy to get rid of, and I really wanted some space. “It's open.”

She strolled in wearing a bright red dress, which clung just the right amount and in just the right places.

“When did you start knocking?”

“I don't know. Just figured in case... You know, you could've been busy.” She bit one of her long red nails as she tilted her head.

Sometimes—quite often, actually—I hated that office. At least when you worked with humans, they knew you were supposed to gossip
behind
the person's back. These people were killing me.

I decided to shut this down right away. “I'm not sleeping with him.”

“Then where've you been the last two days?” She tossed her tiny sequin purse down on my table.

“Had some stuff to catch up on.” I knew I should've just gone into the office. It would've been easier, but then the Fate problem would arise. Although, why he didn't come and pound down my door here was something of a mystery.

“You don't answer the phone? Something's wrong with you.” She tapped her red nails on my counter as she paced about.

“It's dead. The phone, that is.” Since I couldn’t get clarity on my own state of mortality, I couldn’t help but clarify everything else’s.

“Something’s obviously very wrong. Tell me.” She slammed her fist on the counter, trying to act with authority. It was a hard thing for her to pull off, when those same fingers reached up to twirl a lock of hair a second later.

“I'm on a little bit of overload, but I'm fine. Just needed to lie low a couple of days.” I stuffed a salt and vinegar chip in my mouth from the bag of comfort sitting next to me. I was going to have to run out for more. My comfort was running dangerously low.

“Why are you on overload?”

I sat up and debated whether to come clean or not. I didn't want to make a big deal of it, but Luck wasn't going to leave me alone. I was going to have to tell her something, and I didn't have the energy to make up a lie.

“I met Hitler.” It was partially the truth and maybe enough to get her to back off. Then I realized how sad it was that I’d been more rattled by Charlie's new fiancée than Hitler.

“You did?” Her eyes went huge and she squeezed next to me on the couch, grabbing my arm. “What was it like? Was he scary?”

“Not actually scary. More distasteful.”

“What does he look like now?”

“Awkward looking fourteen year old.” As I said it, I realized I wasn’t giving the subject enough weight to make it believable.

She tilted her head and got that look in her eyes, which I knew meant trouble for me. “And that was
all
that happened?”

“Yes. Why? You don't think that meeting the reincarnated Hitler in the body of a teen—who aren't usually pleasant to begin with—isn't enough?” I tried to infuse more drama into my words, but it was probably too late.

“I think you're lying.” She leaned back on the seat of the couch, crossed her arms and nailed me with a stare.

“I’m not.” I turned on the TV and feigned interest in a show I normally liked. Luck kept staring. I’d never noticed before that she really didn’t blink much. It was a very disconcerting trait. I shivered.

It took about ten minutes and the rest of my chips but I cracked. Who knew how easy I'd be to break, given a non-blinking stare and empty bag. I had some rice cakes on the counter, but that wasn’t nearly enough to get me through this. “Are you going to sit here like this all night?”

She crossed her arms in front of her chest. “Nope. Only until you talk.”

If I told her, the whole office might find out. If I didn’t, she wouldn’t leave. “Fine. I saw Charlie. And don't go telling everyone about this, either.”

“You've seen him before. What's the big deal?” She shrugged.

“He was with
her
.”

“Oooh.” Luck’s “oh” lasted almost a minute as she looked down and to the side.

My lips opened of their own accord as another detail slipped out. “She had an engagement ring on.”

“You knew it was going to happen. Fate warned you Charlie wasn’t your soul mate.” Luck was quickly slipping into damage control mode, as any good girlfriend would.

Nothing she could say would fix my next revelation. “It was bigger.”

“What was bigger?”

Suddenly I couldn’t hold back anymore and it all came spewing out. “The stone! He gave her a bigger diamond! And she looked at him all...” I tilted my face upward and tried to glaze my eyes over. “And then he looked at her like...” Not being able to, or simply unwilling to put it into words, my hands flew into a tizzy as I tried to mimic the look I'd seen.

Luck started to fidget and was blinking rapidly now. “I understand.”

“No, I’m not sure you do.” I leaned back on the couch, somehow feeling worse, now that I'd gotten it out. Wasn't it supposed to work in reverse? “This is not helping,” I said to Luck, wishing I'd never said a word. 

She stood up quickly and started to nervously fumble through her oh so teeny purse.

“Who are you calling?”

She plastered on the fakest smile I'd ever seen and held her hand up, motioning for me to give her a minute.

“Need you at Karma’s, ASAP. DEFCON one.” The entire time she spoke, the smile never slipped and her voice sounded like she could have been congratulating someone on a recent promotion.

I stood and went to grab the phone from her hand but it was already too late. “Who was that? I just told you not to tell everyone.”

“I didn’t tell everyone. I only told Kitty. She doesn't count.” Problem with Luck was no one actually counted, and everyone was in the loop. She had a
very
large loop.

“Kitty?” She was a nice lady and all but not the one I'd call for something like this.

“I'm sorry, but it's too big for just me to handle.” She shifted her weight to one hip.

“I wasn't asking you to handle it.” I was on the verge of pulling my hair out as she dug her red lipstick out and puckered her lips. No one was too trivial to not get fresh lips in Luck’s opinion.

“Clearly, this needs to be handled. Would you have rather have had Murphy? Crow would stink us out of this place. It's way too small. Or worse, Fate? Now
that
would've been awkward, considering you slept with him, too.” She finished her lips and made a popping sound with them.

Kitty wasn't the knocking type and strolled right in ten minutes later. Luck blurted out the whole story while Kitty poured herself some iced tea she’d fetched from the fridge.

“Any lime in this place? I like a slice of lime in my tea,” she yelled, louder than necessary, across the condo to me.

“Nope. No lime,” I said as I watched her finish off my iced tea. Why did they always finish off my tea on the worst days?

Luck came and sat with me on the couch while Kitty opened every drawer in the fridge. Apparently, she needed to confirm there was no lime herself. After she eventually gave up, she stood in front of where Luck and I were sitting on the couch.

She looked around for a minute before she began to speak. “Obviously you don’t care that much for material things, or you wouldn’t be living in this dump.”

“That’s true,” Luck added, talking mostly to Kitty. “One night with me could get her a better place, and then there’s that car she drives.” 

“I’ve seen it.” Kitty shuddered. “So this is the problem. You view the larger ring as him putting more value upon his new fiancée than he did you.” She shifted her weight from her right leg to her left. “And he does.”

“This is supposed to be helpful?” I looked at both of them.

Kitty paced around my small living space, a cat trailing her feet. “Because he's supposed to be with her. She was better for him. It has nothing to do with you. In Charlie's existence, you were rawhide when he wanted catnip.

“The problem with all you young kittens is you think it's all about you. It isn’t.” Kitty waved her finger toward the two of us, now sitting side by side. “There is no better or worse, inferior or superior. It's figuring out where you're meant to be and then getting there. This is true in every aspect of your life. If you fight to stay somewhere you don't belong, it will never be good and never get better.

“That has always been your problem.” She made sure to stop and point an accusing finger in my direction, so there would be no confusion which one of us she meant. “You try and squeeze into the wrong spots. And don't tell me you didn't know. You did. When you find the place you belong, it feels right, even on the worst day ever.” Kitty leaned down and looked at me. “You, missy, know exactly what I'm talking about.”

I hated to admit it, but I had really started to enjoy something about being Karma. Maybe she had a point. Did I really belong here with these people? Then images of Fate flashed through my mind. He'd felt so right, even in that short time. Nah, she was talking about the job. That night was Cupid's doing.

Kitty grabbed her crocheted bag and headed out the door without even saying goodbye, her cat right beside her.

I looked at Luck, not sure how to describe the kick in the ass I'd just received. “Wow. That was...”

“She's good, right?”

“Honestly, I do feel a bit better.”