The Apsara Chronicles Boxed Set Page 30

  Behind the park bench a little boy had climbed a tree and was balancing on the branch, one foot in the air. His face was filled with laughter, although a small hint of consternation shadowed his expression.

  Vee turned to the coffee cart, and her heart stilled. A woman carrying a baby was walking past the cart while the last customer was in the process of turning away from Mauro, a cup of steaming coffee in each hand.

  The mother was smiling and whispering to the pink-swaddled infant who was staring up at her, a wide grin on the baby’s face. She remained unaware of the danger.

  Vee turned to stare at Karan, unsure if she should be yelling at him for being so careless or if she should really be wondering if he’d known the danger the mother and child had been about to face.

  “What are you doing,” Vee whispered, afraid that if she spoke too loudly, the frozen time might shatter and people would get hurt.

  Karan, who had been watching the boy in the tree, turned to look at Vee. “The world is so full of unknowns that even when you believe that you see everything around you, you know nothing at all, you are blind.”

  “I don’t understand what you mean. Or what it is you hope to achieve. All I see is someone playing games with the lives of innocent people.” Vee dragged in a rattling breath as her gaze flickered back to the mother and child. “I’ve debriefed you. I was hoping you’d have something constructive to tell me other than to play games with the lives of innocents.” Vee waved her hand at the frozen park, catching sight of the kites overhead. Though mostly still, there was a hint of movement, a flicker of a tail here, an undulation of a wing there.

  Vee’s attention snapped back to Karan—he was surveying the park as if drinking up a stunning view. Heat had built up inside her head so much that she felt her skull was about to explode. Stress, fatigue, and the gods only knew what else, built up the pressure inside her brain. She was about to yell at him to stop this insanity when he shifted his gaze back to her.

  “There has been another murder. But this one is different. It could be connected. I cannot say with any degree of certainty either way. What I do know is that a killer is on the loose, and lives are at stake.” His eyes narrowed as he stared at Vee. “Your life could be at stake. Do not be careless.”

  Vee had opened her mouth to respond but found herself closing it slowly. Then she took a breath. “Scene of the murder?”

  Karan jerked a chin to Vee’s phone. “Already sent. You should get a message soon.” He sighed, and the sound died in the vacuum that surrounded them. “I chose you. Forget my reasons. Consider the choice as having been a task to select the person best suited for the role. Perhaps you have an advantage, and perhaps we need that advantage. But believe me, nobody is exploiting you. At least not for reasons that you yourself would not wholeheartedly agree with.

  “This world…this plane…it’s no longer the place we once loved. Kaliyug is here, and the demon horde has broken free from their chains. I’m helping you, however I can, using whatever means I have at my disposal. I’m sharing information with you, bits and pieces, snippets of whispers on the grapevine that filter to me. I pass what I can verify on to you. I refuse to willingly put you in harm’s way.

  “You are far too valuable in this game. The portal grows with every day, every hour that passes. We cannot be precious or sensitive about our tasks, about what we find ourselves having to do to keep this world safe. The Demon Horde grows stronger every day. And make no mistake, there are entities out there who are just waiting in the shadows for an opportunity to take control of this plane away from the gods. I do what I must. You do what you must.”

  Vee wasn’t sure what to say. His monologue had been lengthy, and she’d been unsure of whether she ought to be asking questions or if she should have gone to help get the woman and her child safely away. She’d remained frozen on the spot, as if she too were caught up in Karan’s web.

  He inclined his head, his expression saying that he wasn’t in the least bit offended that she’d had no decent response to his words. He turned and walked toward the cart and calmly removed the two paper cups from the man’s hands. He set the cups onto the serving counter of the cart and turned on his heel.

  A bird called in the distance and the sound of the wind skimming Vee’s ears almost drowned out the creak of a nearby branch.

  Karan walked across the path, avoiding a jogger whose skin glistened with sweat, and a pair of teenagers whose eyes were focused only on their devices. Vee frowned as she watched him, holding her breath as time began to run again, slowly as if the brakes weren’t strong enough to hold and they were giving a little at a time.

  Vee shook her head, unable to believe the risks Karan had gone to simply to make a point.

  She’d meant to go after him as he walked past her and headed up toward the tree. But she stopped as he paused beneath the branch, then stepped back a foot, as if gauging the distance from the branch to the ground.

  The niggle became a tugging on Vee’s brain.

  Then Karan moved into position below the branch and curved his arms. Just in time. The world righted itself, kids yelled and laughed, and kites bobbed on the icy wind.

  “What the…” the perplexed customer said behind me.

  “Hey, watch it,” growled the mother, a lioness protecting her cub.

  A dog woofed and a man said. “Good boy, Roscoe, good dog.”

  A branch creaked louder until the crack echoed around them when it broke.

  A boy fell from the tree, letting out a shriek.

  He landed in Karan’s arms, staring around him in shock. Karan set the kid on his feet almost instantly. Then he tugged at the hem of his coat, righted himself and strode off down the pathway.

  Before Vee could call out to him, her phone buzzed to alert her that she’d just received a message. She retrieved her cell phone from her pocket and studied the contents of the email. Then she glanced up and scanned the crowd for Karan’s retreating form.

  Her lab work was going to have to wait. She had a crime scene to visit.

  Won’t Monroe be happy.

  As Vee left the park, her mind already focused on the new murder, something Karan had said hit her. He’d said, “That’s why you’re my favorite.”

  Favorite what?

  There were only two options that made sense. She was either Karan’s favorite FBI agent on call twenty-four-seven, or she was his favorite heavenly warrior.

  What in all the gods’ names had he meant by that?

  Were there more Apsaras out there?

  Chapter 58

  Karan paced the narrow portion of carpet that bore no pattern. It was an odd habit. One that had not gone unremarked on by his companions. He’d never been comfortable with walking on something created by the hands of another.

  The intricate beauty of hand-woven rugs always reminded him that a human being had slaved over that piece, weaving the threads, assessing the pattern with a level of scrutiny that only a conscious being could afford. He’d be willing to bet that though a computer—in this modern age—would recreate such a piece with perfect accuracy, that it would still lack what a human would give to the art.

  It had something to do with spirit. Karan believed that everything a creative person touched, a sculptor, an artist, a dress designer, they all created out of a passion that was inherent to them, almost like a song sung to their own individual tune. No two people could create something that mirrored the other to perfection. Even the greatest forgers had a specific style unique to them. So unique in fact, that specialist could identify those particular habits and recognize the artwork as a reproduction by a particular forger with a mere glance.

  Karan had been fascinated by art and the art world. Though he’d been sent to perform an arduous task, his eye had wandered—he’d never admit it—to the art of humanity. Often, he’d wonder if art was the essence of the spirit. Artists toil to bring their work to life. Often not merely for money or for accolades, simply to bring out that inherent nee
d or desire within themselves that seeks the light, that desires freedom.

  Some people would consider an artist a selfish person, in that their service is to their art as opposed to a business or for the greater good. But Karan had never seen it that way. The goddess Laxmi, mother of light, was also the goddess of music, art, and dance. Was it any wonder that those talents were the abilities the goddess of light, the goddess of personal wealth, sought out?

  He heaved a great sigh and stopped his pacing. He knew what had gotten him so restless. His meeting with the Apsara Vaishnavi in Central Park had not gone as he had hoped.

  He had slipped up, said something to her that had made her wonder. He had come to New York with one task—to help guide the apsara toward her destiny. But knowing she was in danger made him feel edgy. He wished he had an army at his command which he could charge with her protection. But he could not make a move. He could not alert those few who would wish to harm her.

  They had been through this all before. Such a long time ago that it had begun to seem like a myth. A story of their past that they were beginning to forget. This world was not made for the gods, and yet here they remained until they could enter their own realm again. The time would come, Karan was sure if it. But he had little idea as to when that will be.

  A knock on the door drew his attention and a demon was ushered inside.

  “Carl,” Karan called out. “What do you have for me?”

  Carl was Karan’s contact deep within the demon army. Unbeknownst to the gods—not to mention humanity—the Demon Horde was amassing far faster than expected.

  “I have some information on a sub-sect of the New York Demonic Horde Assembly—the peys,” the man said as he handed over a file. “They haven’t officially broken away, but they are performing as an independent battalion.”

  “What kind of risk do they pose to our mission?” Karan asked, suspicious now in light of the covert attack on Vee by a pair of pey demons.

  Carl tilted his head, his startling fuchsia eyes gleaming. “I’m not sure if they do at all. They seem to be functional and self-dependent. As a whole, they aren’t a danger to either the Demonic Horde or to our goals. The reason I’m mentioning it to you is that this particular sect is mother goddess worshippers. I know from my contacts that their priests have repeatedly attempted to summon the goddess. I don’t know they have ever been successful but that is of a concern to you, I believe?”

  That was not a piece of news that Karan wanted to hear. Had they succeeded in receiving Parvathi’s attention, things could definitely go sideways for the gods. Should Parvathi align herself with the demons, there was no turning back from that. But Karan needed to get a little more information on if she’d ever had any dealings with them before he pointed suspicion in her direction.

  Karan nodded and began to pace again. Carl was a mild-mannered man, not overly eager. As a mole he’d turned out well, a demon with a human wife and two halfling children, merely seeking to ensure the safety of his family in the greater scheme of things. Karan supported his wife and children while Carl went undercover for him.

  Until now, Carl had been his sole source of information from within the Horde. Even Cassandra hadn’t budged on information. He suspected he’d need to pay the scorpion goddess another visit sometime soon, but he put that in the back of his mind.

  “So, what can I go on that is concrete?”

  “That murder in Manhattan, I just heard more about it come through. It’s a horrific scene. The police are fearing the worst.”

  “And the Horde Assembly?

  “They don’t deem it important.”

  “And this sub-cult?”

  “They are all smiling happy people at the moment. Things seem to be going according to Ishanie’s plans.”

  Karan nodded. He didn’t want to hear that something else had happened that he’d need to send Vaishnavi to investigate. Despite her abilities, she was making herself all too vulnerable by putting herself in harm’s way.

  He’d seen the images in her mind, the ones of the man who was following her. She hadn’t told him as much though. Perhaps she didn’t believe the events to be connected. Or perhaps she felt as though she wanted to deal with the problem herself. Or perhaps she didn’t want to believe that someone was after her. The Apsara was an unusual creature, strong, powerful, knowledgeable, and yet she held herself back with such intensity that it worried Karan. If she lost her focus, he’d have to think of something else to do to help her.

  Karan looked over at Carl who’d removed a small device from his pocket and was busy tapping at the screen. “Carl. Can you get Nate to bring the car around? I want to meet my agent at the scene of the crime.”

  “Very well, sir.”

  The man left the room, and Karan gritted his teeth. She won’t be happy to see him, but he needed to ensure she was informed of the possible danger to her life.

  Karan only hoped that it would not be too late. Things were far from what they appeared to be right now.

  And Karan had a distinct suspicion it was going to get far worse.

  Chapter 59

  Vee headed out of Central Park, sending the details Karan had emailed to her on to Brent. She’d requested a warrant ASAP, to which he’d replied with ‘On it,’ which Vee knew meant he’d have the paperwork sorted and emailed to the relevant parties within the hour.

  He’d followed with a second message that annoyed her, and yet did not surprise her.

  The traffic cams in the vicinity of the warehouse hadn’t picked up a thing. Probably because the demons had been smart enough to jump from location to location.

  Vee stepped toward the curb and flagged down a cab. Her mind remained focused on Karan, his freezing of time, his passionate response to her criticism, the calm way that he’d passed on the next case to her, not to mention his little hint that she may not be the only Apsara around.

  She snorted as she thought about the number of other things about the man that both frustrated and fascinated her. A cab finally slowed and drew to a stop for her. She pulled open the door only to be dosed with a blast of comfortingly warm air with a side of ear-shatteringly loud rap music.

  Vee winced as she slid inside, pulling her bag off her body. She had placed the satchel on the floor at her feet and was about to tell the guy to turn it down when he turned and greeted her with a broad smile that made his eyes twinkle. Her cab driver was a cheerful old Japanese man, and she didn’t have the heart to yell at him. More so when she saw the photos of what must have been his brood of grandkids, all hanging from the top of the windshield like bunting.

  She smiled back and raised her voice to give him the address, then settled back, pulling the beanie off her head and stuffing it onto her bag. As soon as she was able to block out the angry lyrics of the current song, her thoughts pulled straight to Karan again.

  She realized that she really ought to stop questioning him. She had long since accepted that she’d never be able to fully trust him. Full disclosure was not something he was capable of. He drip-fed her information, both about current cases and about himself and why he’d chosen Vee. Not to mention the issue of where he was getting his information from.

  But the one thing that stuck with Vee though—the thought swirling within her head, threatening to make her dizzy—was his implication that there were others like her.

  Other Apsaras.

  Vee’s mother, though a daughter from a strong Apsara line, had not been gifted with the kind of powers Vee possessed. Devi’s ability was of a calming, more empathetic type, nothing in the vein of Vee’s destructive abilities.

  Not to mention the wings.

  Vee’s own existence implied that it was possible there were others out there, and the idea that she was not alone lifted her spirits. Until she realized that it was possible that Karan had just meant she was the FBI agent he was most partial to.

  She wished she was able to figure the man out.

  “You know, when a goat is staring you straight i
n the eye, you can do one of three things, yell loudly and frighten it away, stare it down and get head-butted for your troubles, or turn and run—”

  “Which would result in being head-butted in the ass,” Vee murmured softly, her voice drowned out by the rap music to which her cabdriver bobbed his head. She smiled and glanced over at Radha—or rather her ghost, since Vee still wasn’t entirely sure she was real. “Yeah. Heard that one before, Ma.”

  Radha smiled and nodded her approval. Today the ghost wore a deep red silk sari, a bright red dot on her forehead. Vee shook her head and said, “You do know that nobody has ever had any clue as to what that means. Every time you quoted it people would roll their eyes and smile.”

  The apparition grinned, her white teeth gleaming as a ray of sunshine caught them as the driver took a right at the intersection.

  Radha looked over at Vee. “Sometimes people like to tell themselves that a thing is too hard to do, to be, to understand. It’s usually because they already know the answer but won’t allow themselves to admit it.”

  Vee stared at the old woman, both marveling at how she glowed in the sunlight, and annoyed at her non-answer. She shook her head. “What is that?” she asked, her attention suddenly drawn back to the red bindi on Radhima’s forehead.

  “What is what, dear? You are going to have to be a little more specific than that.” The apparition’s answer was serene.

  Vee raised her finger and began to point it at Radhima’s forehead. Belatedly, she realized where she was and held her hand low on her lap, though her finger still pointed at the ghost’s face. “That. What’s it doing on your forehead.”

  “Oh,” Radhima answered giving a soft laugh. “My bindi.” She inhaled slowly and shifted to look Vee in the eye.