Page 50 of Karma Girl


  Johnny started laughing again. Then, he winced and grabbed his taped ribs. His laughter died on his lips. My heart sank down into my rumbling stomach. There was nothing funny about what I’d done to Johnny Bulluci, nothing humorous or amusing about the beating I’d given him. All to save Intelligal’s worthless ass.

  “It’s not funny,” I said in a cold tone. “It’s—” I bit my words off, shocked and more than a little disturbed by what I’d been about to say.

  “It’s what?” Johnny asked. “What were you going to say?”

  I rolled my eyes. “It’s karma.”

  “Karma? Where are you getting that from?”

  I sighed. “I have this friend, for lack of a better word. She thinks that everything we do affects everybody else in the world and that our actions determine events in our lives. That there are no coincidences, basically. That everything is destiny. Fate. Kismet. Karma.”

  I was glad Carmen wasn’t here to hear me use her catchphrase and superhero name. I’d scoffed at her view of the world more than once. If she knew I was bandying around words like karma, I’d never hear the end of it. Ever. Lulu would probably tell her all about it, though.

  Johnny’s green eyes narrowed. “Karma? As in Karma Girl? Wait a minute. Isn’t that the name of one of the Fearless Five now? The new member who took over Tornado’s slot after Malefica killed him—” Johnny stopped, guessing the rest of my secret.

  “The man you were engaged to, the guy you’re so in love with, it was Tornado, wasn’t it? The superhero?”

  I closed my eyes and nodded. “Yes, he was the man I was engaged to. And yes, Karma Girl is the name of the woman who took his place on the Fearless Five team.”

  Johnny sat still, digesting everything. Me being Fiera. Me being engaged to a superhero who’d been murdered. Him being beaten down by the woman he was sleeping with. I couldn’t quite read the emotions swirling in his beautiful eyes, but I had to try to explain things to him. Johnny Bulluci had become very important to me these last few days. I wanted him to understand me, accept me. I needed him to.

  “Johnny, I—”

  A whoosh sounded at the far end of the room, and the door opened. To my surprise, the others trooped in. Costumes on. Masks off.

  “What...what are you doing?!” I squealed.

  The chief and Henry exchanged unapologetic shrugs.

  “He knows who you are, he’d figure out the rest of us eventually. We thought we’d just speed along the process,” Henry said.

  I sat back in my chair, dazed. Good grief, if we kept this up, everybody in the greater Bigtime metropolitan area would know our secret identities. We really needed to stop telling people what we did in our spare time.

  Johnny’s mouth dropped open. “Chief Newman? The chief of police in Bigtime?” He stared at the chief, who was still wearing his green-and-white costume. “You’re Mr. Sage, the psychic superhero?”

  “Guilty as charged,” the chief said, looking at me. “I’m also Fiona’s father.”

  Johnny’s head snapped back to me. “Hold on. You said your father was a bodyguard. That his name was Sean and that you didn’t get to see him as often as you’d like because of his work.”

  I winced and shrugged. “The chief’s first name is Sean. And he is a bodyguard, sort of. I mean, he is a superhero. That’s like being a bodyguard, except of the whole city instead of just one person. And we don’t really spend a lot of time together—”

  “Except when you’re out chasing ubervillains,” Johnny finished.

  I winced again.

  His eyes moved over to Henry and his black-and-white outfit. “And who are you?”

  Henry stepped forward and offered Johnny his hand to shake. “I’m Henry Harris, aka Hermit.”

  “Hermit, the technical whiz, right?” Johnny gave Henry’s hand a hard squeeze.

  The superhero stepped back, wincing and cradling his hand. “Guilty as charged.”

  “You’re the Henry who calls Fiona at odd hours with those weird emergencies?”

  “That’s me,” Henry said. “Sorry if I’ve been interrupting your dates lately, but we’ve had some situations going on these past couple days, as you’re well aware of.”

  Johnny’s eyes moved over to Lulu. They lingered on the blue streaks in her black hair. “And who are you? Karma Girl? You’re not dressed in silver. In fact, you don’t really look like her. And, not to be rude, but she’s not in a wheelchair. Unless that’s part of your disguise or something.”

  Lulu laughed. “Oh no. I’m not Karma Girl. Not even close. I’m Lulu Lo.”

  Johnny frowned. “I’ve never heard of a superhero named Lulu.”

  “Oh, I’m not a superhero. I just help the Five out from time to time. I’m sort of a sidekick. A groupie, if you will.”

  I glared at Lulu. Superheroes did not have groupies. At least, not the real pros like us. Debonair might have legions of them, but not the Fearless Five. Lulu made us sound like we were some sort of strange rock band. Or encouraged those weird people who belonged to Slaves for Superhero Sex.

  Henry put his arm around Lulu. “She’s also my fiancée.”

  Lulu scowled. “Actually, that has yet to be decided,” she said, shrugging off his touch.

  Henry pushed his glasses up his nose. “Well, when exactly are you going to get around to deciding that?”

  He sounded more than a little annoyed. I stared at the mild-mannered computer guru. Henry never got really cross, not even when I melted his computer wires. But now, he sounded rather like me when I hadn’t eaten for a couple of hours—ready to explode.

  “I told you that I needed more time to think about your proposal, and I told you why,” Lulu snapped.

  “It’s been almost a month already,” Henry snapped back. “Either you love me and want to marry me, or you don’t.”

  “Of course I love you,” Lulu replied. “With all my heart. Even if I want to throttle you right now.”

  Henry’s eyes narrowed. Lulu crossed her arms over her chest and glared at him. Johnny looked back and forth between the couple, apparently amused by the squabbling supernerds.

  My father stepped in between the feuding lovers and cleared his throat. “Why don’t we take this discussion to the library and leave Fiona and Johnny alone? I’m sure they have plenty of things to discuss.”

  He squeezed my hand once, then walked out of the room, followed by Henry.

  Lulu’s dark eyes flicked back and forth between the two of us. “Yes, lots of things to...discuss.” She snickered, then motored away.

  The door whooshed shut behind them, and I let out a long breath.

  “Sorry about that,” I said. “Usually, we’re not so boisterous. At least not Lulu and Henry. They’re the quiet ones of the gang. They hardly ever fight and never in front of other people.”

  “It’s okay,” Johnny said. “It took my mind off my ribs for a few minutes.”

  I grabbed his hand and stared into his eyes. “Johnny, I want you to know how sorry I am. I truly, truly am. But I couldn’t let you kill Intelligal. I just couldn’t.”

  He dropped his eyes. “You know she’s evil. She and Siren have tried to kill you before. And when you figured out who I was, you knew the two of them killed my father. Why couldn’t you have just let me deal with her the way I wanted to?”

  “Because I’m a superhero. I have a code of honor that I follow. I don’t kill ubervillains, no matter how heinous their crimes are. I only hurt others to protect myself or innocent people. If I went around killing ubervillains or punishing everyone who broke the law in whatever manner I saw fit, I wouldn’t be a superhero anymore. I’d just be a vigilante, dispensing what I saw as justice. Like Violet Crush and Sahara and all the others.”

  “A vigilante? Is that what you think I am?” Johnny asked, his eyes bright and hard in his bruised face.

  “No.” I shook my head. “I don’t think you’re a vigilante. I think you’re a son who misses his father very, very much.”

&nbs
p; “Then, why didn’t you let me have her? Why?”

  “Because killing her and even Siren too won’t take away your pain. It won’t bring your father back, Johnny. Nothing will do that. Believe me, I know.”

  His eyes burned into mine. “What do you know about pain? You still have your father by your side. Fighting with you. Just like always. Mine is dead, Fiona. Dead. And he’s never coming back.”

  Travis’s face flashed through my mind. His kind eyes. His sweet, happy smile. I turned my ring around my finger.

  “I know your pain, your need for vengeance, a lot better than you think. Malefica murdered Tornado, the man I loved. The man I was going to marry. Don’t you think I wanted to kill her for that? Don’t you think I wanted to rip her black heart out of her chest and squeeze it until it burst like a piñata?”

  “You said that the person who killed your fiancé got what she deserved. What happened to her? What happened to Malefica?”

  I flashed back to that fateful night in the Snowdom Ice Cream Factory. I was trapped in a glass tube. And cold. So cold. And angry. And fearful. “Carmen Cole, Karma Girl, dropped her into a vat of radioactive something-or-other.”

  “So, she’s dead.”

  I shook my head. “We don’t know that. No one’s seen her since. Ubervillains are sort of like movie monsters. They always come back, even if they’ve been beaten, stabbed, shot, burned alive, and beheaded. I won’t believe Malefica or the other members of the Terrible Triad are dead until I see their bodies. “

  “But Malefica is probably dead. Or at least horrible mutated.” Johnny’s voice was flat, cold, icy.

  “Yes.”

  “You got your revenge, Fiona. Malefica paid for what she did to you and yours. So why are you denying me my vengeance?”

  I let out a long breath. “Inadvertently, yes, I did get my revenge. But it didn’t bring Travis back. It didn’t change the pain I felt when he was murdered. Can’t you see? If you pursue your vendetta against Siren and Intelligal, it won’t help you in the end. You could even die in the process, and where would that leave Bobby and Bella? Grieving for you and your father. Would you cause them more pain just to kill a couple of worthless ubervillains?”

  Johnny didn’t respond. He looked at me, then turned over and rolled onto his side toward the wall. Away from me.

  Suddenly tired, I let out a long sigh. Our conversation was clearly over. For now.

  So I did the only thing I could. I opened the door and left the room.

  *

  I left Johnny to his brooding, stalked to my suite, and crashed onto the king-size bed. It was approaching dawn, and I was worn out. For once, I was even too tired to eat.

  I fell into a dark, dreamless sleep and woke up around noon. To my surprise, I felt a little better. I knew Johnny’s secret, and now he knew mine. I didn’t really like keeping secrets, especially from a man I was sleeping with. One that I had come to care about. It was so much easier just to say what you wanted to, when you wanted to. Consequences be damned.

  I took a hot shower and pondered my wardrobe for the day. I planned to give Johnny the grand tour of the Fearless Five headquarters, and I wanted to look damn good when he saw me. I needed to look good. I had a feeling I’d have to amp up the old Fiona Fine charm in order to get Johnny to forget about our boxing match and his kissing the ground multiple times last night. If he ever really could.

  I riffled through the small, dark area. Unfortunately, I didn’t have quite the selection or closet space as I did in my apartment back in Bigtime. There were no lights in the closet, no stacks of shoes, no rows of purses, no chests filled with jewelry. Just a couple of pitiful metal racks that weren’t nearly long enough. In fact, Sam had limited me to one measly, ordinary-sized closet. He said the underground space was too valuable to use housing my enormous clothing collection. The man was so misguided sometimes. Just because the love of his life preferred ratty Tshirts and ripped jeans to real clothes didn’t mean the rest of us should have to suffer.

  I settled on an available-but-casual outfit so I wouldn’t seem too eager. I’d done that already the other night, when Johnny had me moaning and begging for more against the wall. I put on a pair of tight, low-cut jeans that hugged my curves and a sleeveless, black top that laced up the front. It looked like something a working girl might have worn in an Old West saloon. Combined with the jeans, a pair of stilettos, and a black velvet choker, I had the whole hooker-with-a-heart-of-gold look going on. I turned, admiring myself in the mirror over the dresser. I liked it. I hoped Johnny would too.

  I closed my eyes, strategizing. I’d go check on Johnny and, if he felt like it, give him the grand tour of the place. Then, maybe we could have lunch. My stomach rumbled. Well, maybe Johnny could have lunch, and I could have whatever he didn’t eat. And everything else in the refrigerators. All the refrigerators. Upstairs and downstairs.

  I put on my makeup, brushed my golden hair until it gleamed, and headed for the sick bay. I peeked in through the window, not wanting to disturb Johnny if he was still asleep. But he was gone. The covers on the bed were thrown back, and the machines stood still and silent. My eyes flicked up and down the corridor. No broken glass, no busted door. Johnny hadn’t bashed his way out of the sick bay like Carmen had once. So where was he?

  I spent the next twenty minutes stalking up and down the carpeted corridors of our underground lair. I checked the kitchen, the game room, the gym, the entertainment room, the garage. I reached the library. If he wasn’t in here, I’d send out a red alert. I cracked the door open and stuck my head in. Johnny was inside. Relief flooded my body, followed by a far more potent feeling.

  I stared at him. Green eyes. Tawny skin. Golden hair. A hard body sent down from heaven itself. It was no wonder the Bullucis were obsessed with angels. With their golden good looks, they could have passed for the winged guardians themselves.

  Johnny prowled around the room with a predator’s deadly grace. The bruises on his face and arms had faded to a soft purple, and most of the cuts had already sewn themselves shut. Johnny, Angel, must be a quick healer too. Most superheroes and ubervillains were. You sort of had to be in this business.

  “Hey there, handsome,” I drawled in a light tone and stepped inside. I wanted things to go better today than they had last night. I needed them to. “What are you doing in here?”

  “I’m looking for a phone,” Johnny said, eyeing Henry’s many computers, wires, and other gadgets. “That’s just about the only thing you people don’t seem to have around here.”

  “Why do you want a phone?” My heart sank. I didn’t want him to leave just yet. Not until things were right between us, and I’d convinced him to let the Fearless Five handle Siren and Intelligal.

  “When I’m out riding around as Johnny Angel, I check in with Bella and grandfather a couple of times a night. It’s been over twelve hours since I last contacted them.”

  I slapped my head against my hand. “I’m so sorry! I should have thought of that last night. They’re probably worried sick.” I would have been. I’d always been worried when Travis had gone out on missions by himself. “Come on. You can use the phone in my room.”

  I led Johnny down the twisting corridors to the one that housed our underground suites. His eyes flicked over the signs on the doors that designated whose room was where. They lingered on the one that read Tornado.

  I opened the door to my suite, and we stepped inside. Johnny strode ahead, taking in the furniture and knickknacks. Johnny’s gaze focused on Travis’s picture before settling on the enormous bed. A wave of hot, fiery anticipation shot through my body.

  “So this is where you stay when you’re fighting crime. I like it. It looks like you.”

  I glanced around. Red sofa, black chairs, tile floors, white walls, fireproof paintings. The room was almost an exact copy of my apartment, except without the extra, much-needed closet space. “Thanks. The phone’s over there by the bed.”

  Johnny’s lips twitched up into a
seductive smile. “Really? How interesting.” He gave me a long, steady stare that made my hormones flare to life. “Perhaps we’ll explore that area of the suite later. Unfortunately, right now I really do need to make my phone call.”

  A few sparks shot off the tips of my fingers and landed on the slick tile floor.

  “Dial 5 to get out of the manor,” I said in a helpful, slightly flustered tone. Like Joanne James, I was no innocent, young thing, but something about Johnny Bulluci made me quiver deep down inside.

  Johnny punched in a series of numbers on the black phone. “Hey, it’s me.”

  “Where the hell have you been?”

  I winced. I could hear Bella’s high-pitched screech across the room.

  “Grandfather and I have been up all night!”

  “I’m sorry,” Johnny said. “I was unavoidably detained, but I’m fine now. In fact, I’m with Fiona.”

  “Fiona?” Bella squawked. “Did the two of you have a sleepover? Is that why you didn’t call and check in last night? You should have told me where you were going, Johnny. If I’d known that you and your new girlfriend were having fun, then I would have done something nice for myself. Like gone to bed at a decent hour instead of sitting up, waiting and worrying about you.”

  “We did something like that,” he replied. “I’m sorry I didn’t call sooner.”

  Bella spent the next five minutes tearing into her brother for his lack of manners and total disregard for her feelings. “The next time you stay out all night with your girlfriend, you’d better call me, Johnny Bulluci. Or else it will be the last time you’re ever with a woman. And I do mean ever.”

  “I’m sorry, Bella. I really am. It won’t happen again.” Johnny glanced at me. “Although I suppose I should tell you that I probably won’t be home tonight either. Fiona and I are right in the middle of something important. So, don’t wait up for me.”

  “You—you—you!”

  Bella sputtered incoherently, then slammed down the phone. The crack sounded like a concrete block being splintered. Johnny winced and rubbed his ear.

  “She sounded really angry. I’m sorry I got you into trouble.”