She pressed her palms to her cheeks, feeling them heat. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—”
“I know. And don’t apologize.” He stretched, rotating his torso like an athlete working out the kinks.
“I don’t like being out of control.”
“Aw, come on. It’s fun to take a flying leap every so often. What’s the fun in holding the reins so tight you never go anywhere?”
She glared at him. He made it sound so damn simple. Such unmitigated bullshit. “You don’t like giving up control either,” she snapped. “You don’t really believe in throwing yourself into chaos and letting it roll you. You always have to be in control—why else are you always fighting me for it? You want to be the one person pulling the strings, standing at the eye of the hurricane and watching all the mere mortals flail about, so don’t tell me you’re such an expert at letting go.”
Black eyes flashed. “Ah, but there’s a difference. I like being the puppet master, sure, but I only need to be in control of myself. You have to be in control of every little detail of your life. Everything that has happened or will happen to anyone who crosses your path. I can jump out of a plane, but as long as I’m at home in myself, I’m in control. You can’t jump because you’re too busy trying to fly the plane and dictate the weather and repack your parachute. So don’t go putting us in the same boat, sweetheart. I’m not the one who needs to learn to let go.”
She rubbed a hand over her eyes. “You don’t know what it’s like when I’m drowning in there. I can’t be reckless like you.”
“I understand better than you know. But I’m not saying you have to be like me. Just try to be a little less judgmental and controlling all the time.”
“Judgmental?”
He put his hands up for a truce. “You’re right. We agreed to let bygones go and all that crap.”
“You think I’m judgmental?”
“Do you have a better way to describe your moral there-is-no-gray-area stance?”
“Ethical, perhaps?”
“You do magic tricks for money. How is that any better than what I do? We both sell our services.”
“I don’t indiscriminately—”
“So you admit that you discriminate? What gives you the right?”
“Someone has to police it. Especially with people like you spreading magic willy-nilly.”
“Equal access is—”
“Irresponsible!”
“Democratic.”
“Capitalist, you mean.”
“You profit from it just as much as I do.”
“I’m doing good!”
It wasn’t until he reached for her that she realized she was on her feet, in his face, shouting at him, hands clenched.
“What are you doing?” She stumbled back to avoid his hands, bumping into the couch and sitting down hard. She was breathing too fast, heart pounding. She’d completely lost herself in the argument. How could he do that? He was the only one who’d ever made her lose her cool like that.
“Let’s try again.” He stepped toward her, reaching for her.
“No.” Karma ducked under his hands, scrambling away, all but running across the room, breathing again only when she’d gained a safe distance. “I can’t.”
“The whole idea is to get you out of your head and letting loose. How much looser can you get than screaming at me?”
“So that was all to get a reaction out of me?”
“Honey, I believe every word I said, but if I can argue you out of your hang-ups, I’m not going to let an opportunity pass me by. Come on.”
She shook her head, shying away from his extended hand like it was a live snake. “I can’t. I just need a break. A chance to get myself centered—”
“The last thing you need is a chance to get back in your head.”
“Tomorrow.” When he started to argue, she snapped. “It’s been a hard week, okay? Just give me tonight.”
“It’s going to take twice as long to break you down if you keep taking time off to build yourself back up again.”
“Can’t we do this without breaking me?” She didn’t realize until the words were out of her mouth the raw vulnerability they exposed.
But for once, thank God, he didn’t mock. And twice the thanks that he didn’t show sympathy. His face was blank, his dark eyes expressionless as he nodded. “Tomorrow, I’ll bring a tool that might help, but until then, do me a favor, okay? Try to relax. Let your hair down. See how you like life without a stick up your ass for a change.”
She gave a hoarse laugh. “Asshole.”
He smiled, smug, cocky and unrepentant. “G’night, Karma.”
He turned away, but the intangible weight of his power flared out until it brushed her skin in a sort of farewell, like he needed to touch her one more time before he could go.
“Good night, Prometheus.”
She rested her bottom against her desk, gripping the edge with both hands as she watched him leave, making a point not to think. Not thinking about how she felt about him or how she felt when she was with him or who this person he believed she could be was. She retreated to her cool, calm place and held the quiet around her, hoping it would last, hoping tonight the visions would let her sleep.
Chapter Fifteen
Charm and Punishment
The bell over his shop door had never sounded so clear, reminding him he was back where he was supposed to be, watching another satisfied customer walk into the world with magic in her pocket. He’d been spending too much time with Karma, starting to wonder—not enough for the thought but enough for an uneasy feeling—if she was right about him. If he really was doing more harm than good by putting magic out into the world. And after last night, when he’d felt…what was that? Close to her? Comfortable with her? That wasn’t him. Prometheus didn’t have confidants. He didn’t rely on people or build relationships with them. Relationships were vulnerabilities and he was invulnerable. Immortal.
Or he would be as soon as he got his heart back.
He needed today to get his center, as Karma would say. And his center was this shop. He wasn’t selling bad juju. He was selling catharsis. The ability to get back at that cheating ex or vindictive boss so his clients could move on. Nothing felt so pure as vengeance. Sure, he wasn’t putting strictly white light into the universe, but sometimes a person needed to scream and lash out before he could be whole again. Prometheus understood that better than most and he made sure his clients lashed out in ways that wouldn’t leave them heartless for twenty years.
Taking stock of the store, he noticed they were running low on love charms—always a big money maker—and debated flipping the Back in Five sign over to run into the back and whip up a few more, but he wasn’t feeling particularly loverly. With the mood he was in, his love charms would probably summon stalkers rather than reciprocated love. It was a delicate thing, magic, and it listened to the caster, sometimes more than he might want it to.
Maybe he could make a charm for Karma. Not a love charm—gods, not that—but something to help her work her abilities. And if it happened to help her trust him and want to help him…so much the better.
He’d have to be careful, subtle about it. She’d examine any gift he gave her and if she suspected for a second that he was trying to manipulate her, she’d flip her shit. And that right there was a challenge he couldn’t resist.
If he failed, at least he’d get to watch her in full meltdown mode. She was something else when she lost it.