The Karma Project

Chapter 9 - Planetary Motion

Zoe

Hours later we are all sitting around a large dark cherry wood table in an office on the third floor. Nobody has spoken yet, and the only sound in the room is the drumming of my fingers. All four men stare at me with impassive faces, waiting for me to be the first person to speak.

I arch an eyebrow at Max, "Are we here to just stroke our cocks, or are you going to speak?"

Brandon's lips begin to curl, but he brushes his hand over his mouth to wipe away the expression. Max notices but just shakes his head and moves his attention back to me. "What will it be, Harpy?" Max starts. "Death or partnership?"

I still don't understand this little pet name he's given to me, but I can't say it bothers me-- unless it's supposed to be degrading or something. Honestly, anything is better than 'princess' I suppose. I disregard his question and relax back in my chair, "What's your true motive? Other than gaining an incredibly skilled assassin, why else are you asking me to join your forces?"

Max takes a moment to actually consider the question and finally says, "Insurance." He has a cocky gleam in his eyes that finds its way beneath my skin. I don't know what it is about these men, or what runs in their tap water, but they exude power that is so potent it's palpable.

I nod thoughtfully, understanding that if I work with him-- I'd no longer be working against him. Max would no longer see me as a threat; which has potential to be both a positive and a negative. He's making this too easy, and I know he has something up his sleeve and I'm not sure if I want to be around when he drops the bomb.

"And?" I query, knowing there has to be more.

Shrugging one shoulder, Max says, "You intrigue me."

I bite the inside of my cheek in an attempt to keep my jaw from falling open. "Why not just kill me? You said it yourself, that I've stolen millions of dollars from you in the last year-- which I can only assume is kill worthy. Why aren't you torturing me for information?"

Max releases a dark chuckle. A sound so deep and evil it sends a pulse directly to my heating core. "Ever heard of keeping your enemies close?"

"Fair enough," I lace my fingers together and put my hands on the table in front of me. "If I choose to join, what would be expected of me? What's my job?" I ask.

"You'd be sent on assignments and missions with the team." He gestures to himself and the men sitting by his sides. "You'd also accompany us at social gatherings, charities and business openings."

"I'm not a piece of arm candy." I snarl.

This earns me smirks from all the men sitting across from me. "Oh, but you would be. Because nobody can know who you are. I'd like to keep your identity as The Sparrow hidden for the time being. In order for this to happen, you will be publicly seen as my... romantic interest. It would explain you living here as well as why you may be present on enforcement runs."

I scoff, "Maxipad, if you wanted me to be your girlfriend all you had to do was ask. You didn't need to kidnap me."

"Not my girlfriend," Max corrects, "A secret weapon."

That makes me raise my eyebrows, "I see."

We continue to hold each other's gaze, and I see a flash of dark hungry lust pass in his eyes. Brandon clears his throat, effectively slicing the growing tension. I shoot him a glare that holds the sharpness of a
stiletto dagger. What the hell is he, the quippy comic relief personality that is never serious until shit hits the fan? This isn't a damn cheesy rom-com action flick, and it's about time for him to learn I'm not a love interest, the guy does not get the girl, and there is no happy ending.

"I would need to continue to do my own work as well. As The Sparrow." I state, it's not a question.

"No." Max scoffs. His short and sure response infuriates me beyond belief, so I count silently to five to collect my anger. They aren't aware of my full potential, and I don't intend on exposing my cards so soon when the game has just started getting good. Sure, they know I'm a skilled killer and that I am capable of defending myself, but they haven't the slightest idea of the weapon my father had built from me. They have no clue how lethal I truly am.

"Yes." I declare. "If you want to keep my identity as The Sparrow hidden, that is. It'd be awfully suspicious that when The Sparrow stopped killing, you gained a new assassin. Even if the public didn't know I'm an assassin for you immediately, eventually it'll get out if I'm spotted on an assignment with you."

"She's got a point." Brandon chimes.

I spare him a quick glance before I look back at Max. "Okay, you continue as The Sparrow, but you can't go after any hits that are passed through our channels. You're not stealing any money from me anymore." Max demands. I only nod in agreement.

"Why do you kill?" Dean finally speaks. I shoot him a confused expression, because that is a loaded question. "You don't get paid for the hits. So are you like a vigilante or something?"

I let a sly smile finally grow, "Or something."

Before anyone can respond I ask another question, "When information comes through for hits, can I choose from them for Sparrow work?"

Max furrows his brows and narrows his eyes into little slits. "Possibly, but they'd have to be filtered and approved by me."

"Fine." I grit my teeth.

"Do you orchestrate the dealings of the Cambions?" The question falls from my lips, instantly regretting my word vomit and slap a hand over my mouth.

"Hell no," Max barks. "We don't fucking work in the skin trade. What makes you think we'd work with those sex trafficking bastards?" He has a furious look in his eyes, but I don't see a single sign of deception. He's telling the truth.

"Just checking." I shrug.

All four men give me a curious glance with something else lurking under their gazes... suspicion?

"What do you know about the Cambions?" Dean snarls, almost like their name is leaving a bad taste in his mouth.

"I know enough." I cross my arms and straighten in my chair.

The Cambions Circle is the primary group controlling a prominent sex trafficking ring that stretches beyond the state of Washington. Last I heard was that they have finally breached the Texas border, and are slowly creeping towards the east coast, it's clear their goal is to take over the country. Who's to say they'll stop there?

I do believe that Max was being honest when he said they aren't tied up with them, but I do know that the Cambions formed because of my father--it was his idea after all. After Kahl Hera's mafia reign came to a rather abrupt end, I know Max took over and made quick changes that seemed to upset a few groups, but I was never exactly sure what changed. After learning what I have so far, I can deduce that Max cut ties with the Cambions. Even if he had cut ties with them, he's still associated. If he was a good guy he would have killed them off himself. Why did he stop at separation instead of execution?

Because of this, I will continue to keep them at arm's length. I have to admit that it makes me relax knowing they aren't directly involved. This could mean we may have a shared goal. But for the time being I'll watch from the sidelines and keep my head down. I trust them as far as I can throw them.

Nobody says anything for a while, just silent glances and contemplation. But eventually, Max breaks the silence. "What will it be then?"

I take a deep breath, and swallow the lump in my throat. Ignoring every figment of intuition screaming at me to run like hell, my answer shocks me. "I'll join."

Max nods but adds, "You haven't asked about your cut."

I shrug again and smile, "Money has never motivated me as much as bloodshed."

A sinister satisfied look spreads on all their faces, except for Dean who seems to have a permanent scowl. Max stands and reaches his hand to me, I take his hand in mine for a firm shake and he says, "Welcome to the Karma empire, Harpy."