"Information?" Broth snorted, skepticism etched into the lines of his face. "And why should I help you?"
"Because we're trying to stop them, not point fingers," she replied. "We've got no reason to accuse you; we just want to understand what's happening."
He gave a terrifying smile. "If you want information from me, I’m going to need something from you first.”
"Something?” Deva repeated softly.
He nodded.
"I can cook something for you,” Deva began. "I’m a really excellent cook–”
"No,” he said simply.
"I can create a nice sweater for you in any color you like, or a blanket,” Carol offered nervously.
"No.”
Beth shifted in the booth. "How about a spell of some sort? Everyone can use a spell.”
"No.”
I sighed, feeling frustrated. "Well, whatdoyou want?”
Broth looked from Beth to me, his brows knitting together in a curious frown. "You're Karma, aren't you?" he asked, voice laced with a strange mix of respect and suspicion.
I nodded once, firmly. "Yes, I am."
"Karma..." He leaned back, the leather of the booth creaking under his weight. A thin stream of smoke curled up from thecigarette between his fingers. "Heard stories about you. Dealing with mermaids, vampires, gnomes... You get around in the supernatural world, huh?"
"Word travels." I tried to keep my tone neutral. His acknowledgment of my past dealings sent a prickle down my spine, but I didn't let it show.
Broth took a long drag from his cigarette, the end glowing ominously in the dim light of the bar. "All right, Karma," he said, exhaling a cloud of smoke that briefly shrouded his face. "How about a deal? You use those powers of yours on my ex's new toy, and then we can talk."
I shifted uncomfortably in the booth. This was not what I came for, but desperation gnawed at me. The thing was my powers didn’t work that way. I couldn’t just unleash Karma on good people.
Although, no one said his ex’s new toywasa good guy.
"Only if he's a bad guy," I countered firmly. "If he's clean, nothing happens to him. That's how my power works."
"Fine by me, because I know that guy is a bastard." Broth grunted and flicked ash onto the floor. "You've got yourself a deal, Karma." He leaned back, a smirk playing on his lips. "Just give me your word, and you can ask me all the questions you can before this cigarette is done."
"You have my word,” I agreed easily.
"Then, it’s done,” he said, taking another drag of his cigarette.
Beth's fingers drummed on the table. Her blue eyes narrowed as she asked, "Where were you during the werewolf attacks?"
"Working. I’m always working" Broth leaned in, his breath reeking of smoke and liquor. "I run this place every night, all night long. Got a whole crowd that can vouch for me."
I exchanged a look with Beth. The bar was his territory, his word law. Patrons would cover for him, no question. But out loud, I said nothing.
"Where do you go when the bar's closed?" Beth pressed, her gaze sharp.
"Upstairs," Broth said. "Got an apartment over the bar. Don't need to be anywhere else."
"Convenient," I muttered.
"Very," Broth smirked. "Means I don't miss much. Keeps me out of trouble."
