Gods Ascendent: The Apsara Chronicles #2 Read online

  As the hours passed, Vee found herself filled with glee. She’d taken a chance creating a virus that would attack the pey’s immune system. And with the R&D divisions magic-supported equipment, the wait time until the average virus was ready for testing—anything from six to ten weeks—was vastly decreased. By the end of the day, Vee was particularly thrilled to see that the virus growth rate predicted it would be ready within the next day or so.

  Perhaps tomorrow, she’d have something to take to the head of R&D for testing consideration.

  When Vee finally grabbed her bag and looked at her watch, she found that the day had gone by faster than she’d thought.

  And she had a date with a certain lion shifter.

  In the midst of everything that was happening, everything that had happened to her in the course of the last twenty-four hours, Vee was questioning the wisdom of doing something as mundane as having dinner.

  With her boyfriend.

  When was there ever time for such a thing as romance at a time like this?

  Syama had kept Vee company while she’d dressed, and though the hellhound had insisted that she and Akil go with Vee, she’d eventually relented after Vee reminded her that her boyfriend was a dangerous, powerful lion shifter, capable of ripping a human in half if provoked.

  Vee was jogging down the stairs in her bare feet, patting the pockets of her jeans for her phone. “Back pocket,” came a low baritone from the lounge as she passed.

  “Ugh, thanks, Dad. I swear my brain is like a sieve right now.”

  Her dad snorted. “That’s what you call not having enough sleep.”

  “Sleep is for the weak,” she said as she checked her phone in case Nivaan had bailed on her. Coward that she was, she’d been hoping he would, but she had no messages to that effect.

  Dinner plans canceled but I’ll be picking you up. Have a surprise for you.

  Vee’s eyebrows rose, her curiosity piqued.

  Pocketing her phone, she hurried to the basement, her Dad’s footsteps echoing after her. He loitered on the threshold as she rifled through the shelves in search of a handful of small weapons she could hide on her person.

  “Did Mac drop off my daggers?” Vee asked as she slipped a wide leather band around her wrist. The band was filled with needles which —depending on where she inserted them— she could use to either paralyze or kill an attacker. The needles were for close combat only, and she’d only ever used them as a last resort. She had her trishula, which hung over her shoulder, glamored to appear to onlookers as though it were a backpack, not to mention her daggers which she usually slid into her boots.

  Only today, she wasn’t wearing boots.

  Raj cleared his throat. “He dropped by around midday. The package is on that counter over there.” He pointed behind her.

  Vee headed across the narrow room to the opposite counter, making a beeline for a small box. Mac had promised to have them ready two weeks ago but hadn’t communicated with her as to when he’d deliver them. She’d almost given up with patience and had been close to picking up the phone and telling Mac she’d pick them up if he wasn’t comfortable coming by. She did understand his reluctance though. She wasn’t that selfish.

  She retrieved the set of six stiletto blades that Mac had been working on for her. He’d explained how, with their super thin handles, they would easily be mistaken for hair sticks. Alternatively, they could be inserted into narrow hemlines and jacket seams. Today, she slid them into hidden pockets on the inner seams of her jeans.

  They were mainly throwing knives, cheaply made and untraceable so that she could leave them behind at a scene without fear of being tracked through the materials used in production. The wood of the handles had been coated with an oil resistant resin ensuring Vee would never leave a fingerprint on them.

  All ready, Vee turned to face her dad. “How do I look?” She held out her hands, waiting.

  “That pink top looks nice,” he said, hesitating on the color.

  Vee rolled her eyes. “Cerise, Dad. The color is called cerise. Where have you been in the last decade?” She grinned and went to him to give him a hug.

  The reference to where he’d been was one the both of them had begun to use as a means of breaking the tension. Because with him there was always tension.

  Ever since he’d been returned to them, it had felt as though there was something holding him away from them, not so much physically but emotionally.

  Vee understood that he would be suffering from a serious case of PTSD, but her offer of helping him find a counselor had been met with an emphatic ‘No’ each time.

  “He’s been good to you?” Her dad’s voice broke into her thoughts, and she glanced over at him.

  “Yeah,” Vee smiled, thinking of Nivaan and how their relationship had developed over the last few months.

  “No. I meant Mac.” There was an indefinable note to her father’s voice, one that cut deep into Vee’s heart. She felt as though her answer would mean she’d betrayed her father but if she lied, if she denied her love for Mac then that would amount to almost the same thing.

  “Yes,” she said, deciding honesty was the way to go. She gave her dad a wry smile. “I wasn’t a very nice teenager. Messed up, angry with the world, with Mom. Mac…calmed me down, gave me direction.”

  Her dad nodded at that, then turned to leave as if that answer had been entirely satisfactory, only his face revealed something else that she couldn’t understand.

  She followed him out into the hall. “Dad?” she called out. He paused in the hall and turned to her. “I didn’t mean to hurt you. Saying that I loved Mac…it doesn’t mean I don’t love you.”

  Her dad smiled and came toward her. “I know that. I wasn’t here, and he was. I’m grateful that he took such good care of you for all these years. Even when your mom….” He looked away, as though unsure how to complete the sentence.

  Vee patted him on the back. “Mom has her own issues. She never got over you. When Mac came along, she was happy, but only for a time. It was as if her longing for you wouldn’t allow her to move on. I want to think it was instinct, that somehow she knew you were still alive, that she was waiting for you to come back home.”

  Her dad smiled and pinched Vee’s cheek. “You always know what to say, huh?” He sighed and held her around the shoulders, leading her upstairs. “Someday soon, your Mom is going to have to talk to me about that herself.”

  Vee turned and pinched his cheek in retaliation, winking as she said, “Nothing is stopping you from going to her, you know. That company still belongs to you. Your offices and labs are all still there. Get a good night’s sleep and head out in the morning. Start fresh and let us know you’re okay. And if you’re not okay, then that’s okay too. Just don’t keep it to yourself.”

  Her dad smiled. “Such wisdom from one so young.”

  Vee rolled her eyes and hurried to fetch her shoes. She balanced on one foot at a time as she slipped the red stilettos on. Just in time too, as the doorbell began to ring. Her dad was at the door in light seconds, opening it to bestow his usual death glare upon poor Nivaan.

  “Come on, Dad!”

  Vee offered her dad her own death glare, but he pretended not to notice as he ushered Nivaan inside and shut the door. She waited as the usually awkward silence between the men thawed to almost comfortable, before being unable to take it anymore.

  Vee was just opening her mouth to inquire at the change in venue for their dinner when Nivaan lifted a finger, silencing her as he stared downward. She hesitated then followed his gaze to where it was focused: at her feet.

  “You can’t wear those.” His tone was admonishing, and almost parental.

  What the what?

  Vee’s eyes widened. Nivaan had never behaved like the overbearing boyfriend prone to mansplaining, but this instruction hovered on the line. “Err…why not? Pretty sure I’m capable of making shoe choices on my own. Or do you not like red stilettos?” She lifted one eyebrow, her expression icy.


  Nivaan grinned mischievously. “I like red stilettos. Actually, I love red stilettos…especially when you’re wearing them.” Vee gave him a harsh glare, and he paused, shared an uncomfortable glance with her dad, then he said, “What I meant to say was that, as perfect as your shoe choice is, they may not be as comfortable to walk in where we’re going.”

  Vee’s hands moved to her hips of their own accord, and she had to force them back down. She refused to appear a fishwife. “So where are you taking me?”

  “I hope you’re going to like it. The city is holding a cross-cultural promotional parade tonight. People of all shapes, sizes, and colors all mingling in the streets of New York. It will be glorious.” Nivaan ended his oration with such an excited grin that even Vee’s dad cracked a smile.

  Vee laughed. “If that’s the case, red stilettos won’t do.” She toed off the heels and grabbed them from the floor. As she whirled and scurried up the stairs, she yelled, “Be back in a sec.”

  Then she paused at the top step to send them each a warning glare.

  “I’m hungry, and I need to eat. So, don’t kill each other, okay?”

  Chapter 25

  She’d left the two men in the hall alone and all the way to her room she wondered if that had been a mistake. They’d been circling each other for almost a month now, and Vee wondered if it had to do with the fact that Nivaan was a mahabidala.

  She knew her dad had been involved in paranormal-related investigations—though more on the magical side than the hunting of them—but knowing that lion shifters exist and accepting when your daughter is dating one were two different things.

  Hurrying into her room, Vee snagged her walking boots and a pair of comfy socks. She also changed her jacket for one with a thicker down.

  She was about to head out the door when a voice stopped her. “You forgot to take a hat.” Radhima stood at Vee’s drawer and smiled at her.

  Vee paused. “Where have you been?”

  “Around. Thinking.” The old woman had a sad, far-off look on her face.

  “Are you feeling better now?”

  Another smile. “Getting there.”

  Vee nodded. “And I don’t need a hat. Stop nagging.”

  “I’m not nagging. It’s going to get cold. You should cover up, especially since you’re still healing from your injuries. If it were up to me, I’d have you in bed with a book and a cup of hot chocolate, not gallivanting around town with a boy.”

  Vee rolled her eyes. “I’m getting nagged by a ghost?”

  The ghost snorted. “I know what I’m talking about. Take the hat.” Vee grunted and turned on her heel, fully intending to ignore the old woman. “If you don’t, I’ll come with you. Three’s company, right?”

  Letting out a low growl, Vee stormed to the chest and grabbed a beanie from the drawer. She shoved it into her pocket, aware of the urge to stamp her feet— she wasn’t sure if she should be annoyed or amused at her reaction.

  Instead, she looked over at her grandmother. “Happy now?”

  “Quite.”

  Vee turned on her heel and headed out of the room. On the threshold, she paused and looked over her shoulder. “By the way, Nivaan is not a boy. He’s a grown-ass man.”

  As she walked off, she had to suppress a bark of laughter. She could have sworn her grandmother’s ghost had mumbled something about Vee having it wrong and that Nivaan was a grown man with a great ass.

  The old woman never failed to surprise Vee.

  Vee hurried back downstairs and found herself interrupting a somewhat passionate conversation about baseball teams. She grabbed Nivaan by the shoulders and physically turned him around. “Come on you big lunk. I know about you men when you talk about sports. You’ll be standing here all night.”

  Nivaan allowed her to turn him around and spoke over his shoulder as he went, “But you love sports too.”

  “Yeah, I love sports too. But when men argue about sports, they can go around and around in circles for hours just for the heck of it. I wanted a night in, but you wanted to brave the city streets. So, let’s go before I make you go yourself.”

  Nivaan headed outside and huffed. “Have you ever read Taming of the Shrew?”

  In response, Vee slapped Nivaan on the side with the back of her hand. Nivaan grabbed his gut and faked a pained ‘ouch’ before dissolving into laughter. With a long-suffering sigh, Vee muttered, “I’m dating a child,” then slammed the door to the sound of her father’s chuckles.

  Vee was smiling as she descended the stairs. Nivaan had gone silent. He’d reached the sidewalk and was looking up at the house. “How’s he doing?” he asked, his expression almost indiscernible in the gathering darkness.

  “You heard him laughing.” Vee smiled, tucking her fingers into her pockets as she stared at the house too. “I think he’s mending. He seems to be getting better each day.”

  “He’s come a long way,” Nivaan said as he hurried to his Jeep.

  Vee climbed in and fastened the seatbelt. “I think he needs help from a PTSD perspective. He’s been through so much, a lot of which we have no idea about because he won’t tell us what happened to him when he fell into the vortex.”

  “Does he appear emotionless or hurt?”

  “Lack of emotion, definitely. And there’s a sadness in his eyes. Whatever happened to him, he’s protecting himself from the pain. And I think he’s hurting because of Radhima. I think he feels responsible for her death somehow.”

  Nivaan smiled as he drove them through the streets. “You should become a therapist.”

  Vee snorted. “Yeah. Like I need a hole in the head.”

  The drive over to downtown was peppered with banter and light ribbing, which Vee decided had been good fun.

  After parking—Nivaan used a friend’s space at a nearby parking garage—they strolled the few blocks to where the parade was in full force. Floats were gliding down the street, and boisterous crowds threw confetti and streamers in no specific direction.

  Gilded polystyrene dragons followed garish skulls and women dressed in tall headdresses. Those followed a giant statue of an archangel which trailed a float containing a papier mâché effigy of the god Ganesh with his rounded belly and curling elephant trunk.

  It was a hodgepodge of religious and cultural presentations that Vee assumed the city hoped would encourage cohesion amongst the different ethnic groups. For what it was worth, Vee believed the plan could work.

  As they weaved through the crowd, the street lamps flickered on, throwing myriad colored lights onto the passing crowds who sent up a cheer.

  Vee glanced over at Nivaan and grinned. There was no point in talking with the barrage of sounds around them, from music to chanting to yelling.

  As she studied his smiling face, Vee wondered at people’s perceptions. Nivaan was a respected doctor, with a reputation of skill that was unparalleled. He was also a lion shifter—a mahabidala—a thing from folk tales and horror stories. How many of the people walking this particular street would shriek in horror or turn on him if they knew what he was? The thought turned her stomach as she stared at him, recognizing his vulnerability. People were not ready to know the truth, to know they shared their streets, their workplaces, and even their governments with supernaturals.

  Nivaan’s voice in her ear made Vee jump. “Hungry?” he yelled.

  She winced and shook her head while sticking a finger in her ear and rubbing it hard. She hated anyone talking in her ear. Touching her ears came a close second.

  She took Nivaan’s offered hand, and they weaved through the crowd toward the food carts that lined one side of the street. The variety of food was astounding and Vee was spoiled for choice.

  “Dim sum or buffalo wings?” he asked as he too scanned the selection.

  “Both,” Vee replied with a grin.

  Nivaan nodded, and they headed down the line to make their choices and wait for their orders.

  As they took their snacks and drinks and began to walk a
way from the food area, Nivaan bent close to Vee, and with a grin on his face he asked, “You do know we’re being followed, right?”

  Vee blinked. She wanted to say something smart, like ‘of course, check your two o’clock and my six’ but she had nothing. Even with her FBI training—and her Apsara skills—she was so exhausted that she’d lapsed in her awareness of her surroundings.

  When he straightened, Nivaan said, “Don’t worry. I’m not sure a non-shifter could have detected them.”

  Vee had to acknowledge that despite her skills she didn’t have the nose to track a stalker the way animal shifters like Nivaan did. Not that it made her feel any better.

  “How did you know?” she asked as she chewed dim sum that was now tasteless.

  “One of them passed us by a few too many times. Amateur move. I got his scent, so it didn’t take me long to figure out what they were doing. They’re tag-teaming positions which is quite amusing because all it did was make it easier for me to connect the two scents.”

  “No doubt they have no clue you are what you are,” Vee said, smirking.

  “Good thing too, or I wouldn’t have made them.”

  Vee forced herself to focus on her food. Stalkers or not, she’d deal with them soon enough. Crumpling the wrappers, she looked around for a trashcan only to find the papers taken from her by Nivaan, who added them to his pile and tossed them into large trash receptacle a few feet behind him.

  When he turned back to her, he said, “Now what? Want to draw them into a dark alley somewhere?”

  Vee pursed her lips. “I think I quite like that idea.”

  “I didn’t mean you.”

  Vee’s eyes narrowed as she glared at him.

  “Be nice,” he warned before she spoke.

  Vee huffed and pasted a sweet smile on her face. “I’m fully capable of taking them down.”

  “How about we catch them off guard, but let them believe you don’t know you’re being followed?”