Karma Box Set (Karma 0.5-4)

Cupid wasn’t just in the building, he was inside our space. Our office radio would’ve screeched to a stop if it had been playing, and not just because the antenna was broken and someone had walked in just the wrong circumference to disrupt the signal. Just like that, without another word, the meeting adjourned and everyone in the office shot into action. Chairs scraped across the floor, metal clanking into metal, as we all scrambled to get as far away from him as possible.

I wasn’t surprised Cupid’s appearance had everyone running for cover. I’d found out from Luck, in one of our chitchats, that I hadn’t been the only victim of Cupid’s love charm. Those who hadn’t had firsthand experience still knew enough to avoid him.

But it was worse now. Word had spread that he had a way of transmitting his spells without ingestion, and no one knew how he was doing it. The only case I’d known of was with me, so someone had spilled the beans. Unfortunately, loose lips—also known as Lady Luck—hadn’t been discreet enough to omit who had become afflicted.

When confronted about her gossiping ways, she swore she’d only told Murphy. Murphy then swore to her he’d only told Crow. I lost track of the chain of information somewhere around Death, who had even relayed the story to the Tooth Fairy. For all I knew, they’d even told the human accountant—just some run of the mill guy who they’d accidentally rented space to—some jumbled up version of the truth.

That was when I realized that even though it was a small office, filled with beings who weren’t quite human, it was still gossip central. And those gossipers were running like hell was on their heels right now.

Cupid was blocking the only exit. Everyone was aware of what could come from close proximity, and with no other place to retreat, we all bee-lined it for Harold’s office.

“Where’s everyone going?” Cupid yelled. Nobody looked at him or answered, as if we could all just pretend we hadn’t noticed him as we did the fifty-yard dash.

I tripped on a cat toy in my rush to get to the door and Luck, a step a head of me, paused briefly then mouthed the words, I’m sorry, as she kept going. I didn’t blame her. We all knew the stakes.

Just as I was preparing for the inevitable, two hands went under my arms and lifted me up, propelling me forward.

“Oh no, you’re not staying out here when I’ve got other places to be tonight,” Fate said.





Chapter Two



Don’t sink my ship.



He practically carried me ahead of him into the already full office. He stepped in front of me and plowed through the group, to grunts of annoyance, until we took up the prime real estate of the northwestern corner, in between the filing cabinet and the trash can.

Harold’s office could be described as cozy and not due to the decor. We all barely squeezed in and there was quite a bit of maneuvering to get the door shut.

“This is my office! You can’t all be in here!” Harold was pressed against the door. The exit that would lead to retirement, with its inch of glowing light that escaped along the bottom, which was currently blocked by all the bodies in the room.

No one answered or bothered to leave, either. Even with his lousy personality, it was hard not to occasionally feel bad for Harold. I’m sure he wanted to be liked. Didn’t everyone? Even more so, he wanted to remain in control, but that seemed to be slipping away slowly with each passing day.

“Why are the cats in here? I’ve got nowhere to stand!” Bernie, the leprechaun, yelled at Kitty, from where he was perched on the desk. He acted like it was an inconvenience, but I noticed he took every opportunity he could to stand on something and attain more vertical leverage.

“He’s got a crow in here.” Kitty pointed to the bird sitting on Crow’s shoulder. “If the crow stays, my cats stay.”

And of course, even though my best friend was Lady Luck, I was running on very short supply of it myself. I was up close and personal with Fate, the very person I was avoiding. It was hard to pretend to not see someone who was standing almost on top of you, so I focused my eyes on his chest. Maybe not a good idea, since I became slightly fascinated by the way the shirt mounded and hollowed as it followed the line of his pectorals.

Now here’s someone who was naturally lucky in life. No one got to look like that without a little helping hand. He smelled almost better than he looked. It was an indescribable scent that reminded me of walking through a forest on a beautiful fall day, and he threw off a comforting heat like standing next to a toasty fire after you’d spent hours in a blizzard. Everything about him was a lure, and I didn’t want to be the catch of the day.

He moved in closer, forcing me further into the corner and shielding me as more people jostled about. I tried to resist the urge to take in a good whiff of him but failed. I wondered if he ever smelled bad. Maybe if he got all sweaty.

No, that wasn’t a good thing to think of either; I’d seen him all sweaty, as he covered my body with his. There was good sex, and then there was that night. It had been something different altogether. It hadn’t been long, or with any crazy foreplay, or anything else I could put my finger on. And yet, it had been more intense than anything I’d ever experienced. Like he’d fit me perfectly, moved at just the right pace and the most perfect angle. He’d felt so damn good that it must have been Cupid’s love spell pitching in. Nothing else made sense.

It made me wonder why we were hiding from Cupid when he could produce those types of results. Shouldn’t we be greeting him with tea and cookies? Come on in and hand me over a blissful night of sexcapades?

I knew what my problem was; I couldn’t think of that night without remembering the rest. We’d both still been winded when he’d so callously asked about my plans, wanting to know if I’d be hanging around.

I wasn’t stupid. I knew why he’d asked, and that perhaps he’d had some noble notion behind it, or thought he did. He was telling himself he was doing the right thing by pushing me out the door, but it wasn’t his call. When you truly care about someone, don’t you spend even a minute thinking about alternatives? Now, I wasn’t saying I wanted to stay, but it was a big insult to get past. No, I’d be remaining right here, in this cramped office, with the rest of them.

“We need to talk.” His voice was barely louder than a whisper.

“Sure,” I replied, as causally as I could.

“After we get out of here, we’ll go back to my place.”

His place? Oh no, that would not be happening.

“No good. I’ve got a job in about an hour.” I needed to stop smelling him.

“Then you have time.” His hand came and rested on my back like it belonged there. My spine seemed to agree since it arched as if trying to make his hand more comfortable in its spot. My reflexes and baser self were clearly happy to please. Unfortunately for him, my pride didn’t feel as accommodating.

I jutted out the arm closest to him, which dislodged his hand. He retaliated by pushing his hand through the opening my now bent arm made and splaying it on my lower back again and tugging me closer.

“Why do you keep touching me?” My words were stilted. So much for casual.

“Why are you getting so touchy about me touching you? I just didn’t want anyone to hear us.” His voice was husky and did funny things to my nerve endings.

I was thwarted. If I continued to say anything about him touching me, it would look like I was being overly sensitive. The only thing left to do was act like it wasn’t a big deal.

His hand remained where it was, with my begrudging consent, burning a hole into my back. But I wouldn’t make it welcome. In an effort to force the arch out of my spine, I ended up hunched over.

No one seemed to notice anything amiss with us, as everyone was shifting around uncomfortably. Elbows were starting to fly and feet were being stepped on as everyone fought for more floor space.

“We can talk but it’s going to have to be tomorrow. I don’t like to run late and I have to stop and get some polish for the guards beforehand.” My eyes landed on his bicep. He looked like he worked out but I wasn’t sure. No matter what I ate, I didn’t gain a pound.

Donna Augustine's books