“What?” I mumbled. “Who the hell is Mr. Valentine?”
“A hot as fuck man who obviously has a hard-on for you. I only met him once.” Karma sniffed. “And honestly? Once was enough. The man may be fuckable, but he’s creepy as a stalking ghost.”
Brilliant.
I rubbed at my forehead, and muttered, “Send me all the information you have on him.”
“It’s at the top of the feed. See it up in the middle?” Karma stated on a yawn, completely bored with the conversation now. “That’s his bank account information. That’s all I have. I knew you’d ask for it.”
My eyes ran over the twenty digit number, quickly memorizing the information like code. “So what am I watching? You never said.”
“I’m taking down a new construction site by Mason Corporation on the outskirts of the city.”
I groaned. Loudly.
“What? It’ll give all those workers more paychecks. They’ll have to build it all over again!”
“Karma, you have to stop this shit. What if someone was there?”
“It’s the weekend. They don’t work on the weekends.”
I rolled my eyes. “You said something about the Corporate Army finding out.”
“I said theymightfind out. There’s always that possibility.” Another large yawn. “But I’m not even watching the feed, per Mr. Valentine’s instructions. You’ll have to let me know how it all ends. The bomb is set to go off in two minutes.”
“I’m hanging up now. You’re lucky the building is abandoned. Otherwise, I would be contacting the authorities. I don’t deal with terrorists, Karma. And you’ve already toed the line too many times. Our dealings are done. Have a nice life—if you get your shit together. Order: End call.”
I sat back on my chair and sighed. There was nothing to be done with the bomb going off in two minutes. Karma truly was fortunate the building wasn’t occupied right now…
My back shot up ramrod straight. “Fucker fucking stupid ass motherfucking shit of all timing bullshit!”
Four individuals dressed in standard black CA uniforms had entered the room. And I recognized one of them—anyone would know who she was. Poppy freaking Carvene! Her red hair bounced around her shoulders as she stalked the space, and her brown eyes moved over every item in the barren room while her tiny hands gripped two sharp knives.
Fuck. Karma.
Poppy Carvene was going to die.
“See anything?” Poppy asked, her voice ringing out through my computer board.
My lips turned down into a horrible frown.
How helpful of Karma. She had even installed audio.
I mumbled under my breath, “Yeah, I see a woman who’s going to meet her old love in heaven soon.”
“Nothing here,” one of the male soldiers answered her.
A new man entered the room. I groaned and slumped down.
The death count just kept climbing.
The new man wore a long, silver fur coat, buttoned up to his chest over a white T-shirt, the hood of the jacket covering a portion of his refined features. His silver hair stuck out from under the hood at odd angles, and…his feet were bare.
He lifted a wine bottle into the air, and slurred, “Everyone, wait. You won’t want to leave the room.”
“Cassander?” Poppy mumbled in shock. “What in the world are you doing here?”
“I’m working, Ms. Carvene.” He swayed side to side and took a large drink from his bottle.
