The Hand of Kali Box Set (Books 1-3) Page 5

  Maya nodded, sensing something momentous about to happen.

  "Before you were born, your mother and I lived in a remote forest region in India. We belong to a very devout group of Kali followers."

  Maya stiffened. They really thought this was the time to bombard her with religious crap? "Dad, you know I don’t believe all that stuff right? It's just mythology."

  Her dad nodded, and the act of patience went further to unsettle Maya than a screaming fit would've ever done. "I understand, but you need to listen to what I have to say. Whatever your beliefs or doubts, you need to put them aside until I'm done."

  His voice held a tired, almost weary edge to it, so Maya clamped her jaws shut and prayed they’d stay shut until he finished.

  He seemed to take her silence as agreement and continued. "Our enclave was run and guided by Mother Radha. She was our guiding light and when she became ill, many of the followers began to doubt we’d be able to continue our work."

  He paused and shook his head. Maya turned to her mom. A strange, faraway expression flickered across her mom's face, as if some distant memory had reached its fingers out to her, grabbing hold and weaving the memories around her.

  Her dad continued, gazing off into the past. "When Mother was on her death-bed, she asked our Goddess for one gift. She begged with her dying words to live again. To live so she may serve the Dark Goddess. Nobody could have guessed her wish had been granted. We tried to continue without her, but many of the older followers began to leave, to go out into the world to serve the greater purpose. We'd thought of leaving too. But we had to wait. For you."

  He looked at Maya, leaning forward and propping his elbows on his knees. She tensed, but the small reminiscing smile on his face calmed her. "When you were born, we waited only until you were healthy and strong. We missed Mother far too much. But we found we had another reason to leave."

  Maya played with the fringe of the silk cushion she clutched in her stiff hands. Her dad walked over and sat on the other side of her, as if being closer to her might make her listen. He didn't need to. She was listening well enough.

  "The compound is situated high in the mountains, in the wilds. One day we checked on you, expecting to find you fast asleep in your crib. Only we got more than a surprise. You were awake, sitting up in your bed, talking to a pile of ash. We would have thought it strange if we hadn’t known the pile of ash had once been a cobra. We found the molted skin near the window." Dev shook his head as if even after all these years he still found it difficult to believe.

  Maya blinked, still unsure where this little tale was headed.

  "It was you. You had killed the snake. Ten months old, barely able to walk and you’d recognized the threat and incinerated the cobra." Her mom spoke, nodding, urging Maya to accept, to understand.

  Dev cleared his throat. "Then the new leader of the enclave came rushing into our home claiming she’d had a dream. One that told her Mother had been reincarnated and who the child was. She’d stood in our doorway staring at you. The pile of cobra ash confirmed it to all of us."

  "So you think I'm the reincarnation of your leader?" Maya was still processing the fact her parents had admitted to be followers of the Goddess Kali. Only the mention of the pile of ash that had once been a cobra encouraged her to pay closer attention.

  "We know you are her," Maya's mom spoke, her tone gentle, tender.

  "Apart from the woman's dream did you have anything solid?" Maya stared at her parents skeptically, beginning to doubt they were in possession of any sanity at all.

  "We didn’t need confirmation. We had enough trouble trying to control your growing power. You burned stuff up left, right, and center. Before long, we decided to bind your power. For your safety and for the safety of those around you."

  Yeah, Byron would have a thing or two to say about that.

  "We always knew there would be a time when we’d need to tell you the truth, but we hadn't expected it to be this soon. The bindings were strong, they should've held well enough," Her mom hesitated. "Was there anything else that happened, anything that could've made you ill? Did you feel dizzy or nauseous at all?"

  Maya nodded. "Yeah, I felt dizzy and a bit ill but that was because of the alcohol. Although, I only drank half the glass. I stopped because I felt so weird."

  "Yes, we will talk about that later." Leela's voice spelled trouble. Boy, was she in for it. When her mom got mad she got really, really mad.

  "That's probably the reason. The binding must've been easier to breach with the alcohol in her system." Her dad nodded, seeming satisfied with his assumption. But Maya was too busy wondering what her punishment would be for this additional transgression. First lying, then drinking. Not to mention murder, however weird the circumstances.

  "So, it was me, then?" Maya still had trouble accepting she'd killed Byron. How could this happen? Her dad nodded, sharing a knowing glance with her mom who's head bobbed up and down as well. "Unfortunately, that's a yes."

  "Why?" Maya asked, then burst into tears.

  It had been too much, had taken its toll slowly. From the stress of lying to the weakening effects of the alcohol to the fear of possible rape by Byron. Knowing she'd been the one to end his life should've been more satisfying given his intentions had never been of the gentlemanly kind.

  But all she was able to process was she'd just killed someone. Maya shivered within the circle of her mother's arms. She hadn't even felt her mom move.

  "There is more, of course," her dad said.

  "Of course." Maya couldn't hold back her snark, but the hiccups and the high squeak she emitted spoiled the effect.

  "Something must have sparked it. You drank half a glass and it seems alcohol has a strong effect on you."

  "Well, Nik suspects the alcohol was drugged. Maybe that's why I felt so weird?" Maya offered, leaning forward out of the security of her mom's embrace.

  "It could be the alcohol and drugs broke the wards. Just in case, is there anything else you can think off?" Her dad frowned, then asked, "Any strange odors?"

  "Now that you mention it, yes. I kept smelling this weird stench. Like blood and spices. Horrible. It filled my lungs it was so strong." Maya's looked from one parent to the other and both were nodding, their expressions more serious now than ever. "What? What happened?"

  "We knew this day would come." Her dad sighed, the sound weary, as if he was finally giving in to something. Beside her, Leela echoed her husband. "It's the scent of a Rakshasa."

  "Which is supposed to mean what to me, exactly?" Maya asked, one eyebrow rose. She really hated the mythology. With her limited knowledge of what a Rakshasa was, she preferred her dad to spell it out for her.

  Dev Rao took a deep breath. "Demons to you, kid. They possess the bodies of innocent people whenever they want to obtain something specific. They kill for pleasure too. But mostly they do their master’s bidding. They're never very good at self-management."

  "So you're saying Byron was a demon." Maya absorbed the idea, turning it over in her mind. "So what would they have wanted with me? Why would they want to kill me?"

  "Well, that's easy. The entire demon population probably wants to kill you. They always have - ever since you were born."

  "And why is that?" Maya asked, barely able to stop herself from snapping.

  "Because you're the only living human who possesses the power to scent a Rakshasa."

  Chapter 8

  "You are kidding right?" asked Maya. They'd blown the whole thing way out of proportion here. How did they expect her to swallow this crap when she didn’t even believe Rakshasa’s existed in the first place? They might as well have revealed vampires really did exist and she was really a vampire hunter.

  And yet, the memory of the scent of putrid meat teased her nostrils. An odor she'd smelled when Byron had been close. Accepting Byron was a demon got just a little easier for Maya. Crazy, but easier.

  "I’m sorry honey, this is a shock for you but it's very real. So real we’v
e been hiding you your entire life. If this was an attack on you, an attempt to either abduct or kill you then we need to take action." Maya began to worry as she looked at her father's face. The gravity in his tone, the sadness gleaming in his eyes, an expression she’d never seen before.

  "This isn't happening." Maya shook her head. She refused to accept it. It couldn't be true. All she’d wanted was to have a normal, all-American life. Why were they trying to force her to believe this nonsense. "No! I won’t listen to any more."

  She pushed off the sofa, away from her parents. Multi-colored cushions scattered in a mess of reds and golds. Maya didn’t care. She half ran, half limped to the stairs, all thought of the possibly broken rib gone, her only desire to escape to her room before her tears spilled. To get away from them.

  She turned at the stairs. "I don’t believe this, and you know what? I don't think I ever will believe it. It’s a myth. Stories people tell. None of it is true. And I am not going to get caught up in it. You believe if you want to. I certainly am not." She flung the words back at them, flung their faith in their faces too. Too late to take the words back now.

  Maya glared at her parents who stared back, surprised at her outburst. Her mother's dark eyes were moist and ringed with worry, while her dad's expression remained perplexed. Oddly, neither her mom nor her dad looked as furious as she’d expected.

  A thin ripple of guilt ran through her, but she didn’t give in. She refused to give in. What were they trying to do to her anyway? Make her lose her mind? Take her over to the dark side?

  She ran up the stairs two at a time, and entered her room with the intention of slamming her door shut. She never got the satisfaction.

  Maya took one step into her bedroom.

  Then the world spun and she fainted.

  Maya opened her eyes and had to shut them again quickly. A bright, white light lit the room, and it hurt. Through scrunched eyes she caught a glimpse of overly colorful, patterned curtains. A machine let out a constant beep and behind her paper crackled like soft little lightning strikes. She stiffened, and turned slowly. Something about having her back to someone she couldn’t identify made her uncomfortable.

  But she relaxed as soon as she saw her mom, propped up in a metal chair, face scrunched up as if trying hard to process what she was reading from the rumpled newspaper in her hands.

  "Hi, Mom." Her words came in two soft croaks but Leela heard. She came to Maya, leaning against bed, kissing her cheek, bringing a waft of pine scented cleaning product with her.

  "Hey baby." She leaned her elbows on the bed beside Maya. "How are you feeling?"

  "Sore. And thirsty," Maya replied. "What happened? Where am I?"

  "You're in the hospital. I believe you fainted," her mom said, grinning. "You just proved you are a girl."

  Maya smiled. It was an old joke. At six years old, Maya had announced only girls faint. She swore she'd never, ever faint simply because she wasn't a girl.

  "Don’t get used to it. It’s just a passing phase." Maya laughed and then cringed as pain flashed through her torso.

  "Be careful, honey. You had a punctured lung. You must've been short of breath at some point but you never noticed it. The doctors said it would take four to six weeks to heal but I think you'll be fine. You’ve always been a fast healer." Maya wouldn't have thought anything except she heard a strange, high-pitched lilt at the end of her mom's sentences. What was her mom keeping from her?

  "Mom?" asked Maya, "What is it?"

  "It's nothing really, honey. You should concentrate on getting better. Nothing else matters at this point."

  "Come on, Mom. There’s something you want to tell me. Why can’t you say it and be done?" said Maya, now exasperated.

  "Because your mother has been through a whole lot this evening." Maya’s dad walked in bearing two steaming paper cups. The scent of coffee filled the air. He handed one to her mom and turned kind and caring eyes to Maya. Eyes now slightly sad. "What she needs to say is not something any mother should ever need to say to her child. Especially when it's something that child does not want to hear."

  "Oh, Dad. Not the whole mythology nonsense again."

  "Yes, Maya. This is serious. More serious now you’ve landed yourself in hospital."

  "Dad, it wasn't my fault. I didn't give myself the broken rib." Her voice rose as anger brought a flush of heat to Maya's face.

  "Yes, we understand that but if you hadn't gone to that party this wouldn't have happened."

  Maya’s mom broke in. "Something like this was bound to happen at some point. We hadn't planned on cotton-balling her for her whole life you know." She turned to Maya. "At some point you will need to come to terms with the truth."

  "You didn't." Maya glared at her mom. "Didn't you bind my powers in the first place?"

  "We'd only meant the wards to last until you were capable of defending yourself. Now that they're broken we have to face this together, and accept it together." Leela took hold of her daughter's hand, but all Maya wanted to do was pull it away. She couldn't accept her mother's comfort. Too many thoughts filled her head. But she left her hand locked within her moms, and waited for her to continue. "I can understand it's hard to believe but power comes in many forms to so many different people. You need to accept it and learn it, to protect yourself and to protect your family. Besides, a gift like this is not something you should ever spurn. The giver of that gift might not be happy with rejection either."

  "What are you saying, Mom?"

  "What your mother is trying to say is you are special. Whether you want to believe it or not, you possess a unique power. You hold within you the power to destroy demons, to track them, and to kill them. And that very power is what makes you vulnerable because you're a novice. You're unable to control your power at all. So far, we've protected you, but it's clear we can no longer be your sole protection. It's time you learned to protect yourself." Dev paused as he stood beside his wife. "Maybe keeping the truth from you for so long was wrong. And I’m sorry. But what's done is done, and at this point you know the truth, you have the power and you really no longer have a choice. Because your ability to kill the Rakshasas will always put you in mortal danger."

  Maya turned onto her side. The room was silent; the emptiness of the small, clinical space amplified by the absence of her parents. She’d never been afraid to be alone before, but now, with everything they'd revealed, she felt utterly insecure, flinching at the shadows, tensing every so often as footsteps went back and forth in the passage outside her door.

  Not that she really believed them, though. It was way too far-fetched. Kali and Rakshasas? Demons. Yeah, she totally believed in demons. Maya scoffed in silence, drifting into an uneasy sleep.

  Maya awoke one harsh breath at a time. The room felt different. Warmer, denser than the usual recycled air-conditioner air. Her body alerted her that something was terribly wrong. Exhaustion weighed down her bones, perspiration lathered her forehead. A forehead so hot she wondered what happened. She’d been fine when she’d gone to sleep. The doctor had come in and checked her, and she’d been fine. They’d said she could go home as long as she took it easy, no strenuous activity.

  Maya placed her hand at her rib, and snatched it away as if she dipped it into molten lava. Neither the absence of pain in her ribs, nor the absence of bandages shocked her. What made her body stiffen was the presence of a garment she was dead sure she hadn't been wearing when she'd fallen asleep.

  She knew what a sari was, how the fabric felt, and how it draped around a woman’s body. And Maya knew she was wearing one. How was that even possible? She reached for the light and her heart sank when her searching fingers came up empty.

  No light, no nightstand.

  In that moment of whirling panic Maya would've sprung to her feet and rushed to the door. But her body forced her to move slowly, one aching, quivering limb at a time. Her heart thumped in her chest. She’d never felt this sick in her life. Shivering, shaking, so hot she swore she'd b
egun to melt. At last, she got her legs to do as they were told and move until she was able to sit upright. Her pointed toes searched for the little stool beside the bed. Nothing. Her heels bumped solid ground almost at the same level of the mattress.

  Maya blinked in the darkness. Her first experience of utter black blindness. She decided she didn’t like this feeling at all. Where the hell was the darned light, and what happened to the bed?

  Getting to her feet was a lot harder than the decision. She spent a while on her knees, willing her weak limbs to take her weight.

  She wiped at her forehead, swatting away the rivulets of sweat trailing at her hairline. Her breath came in short sharp bursts, the effort taxing both her body and her lungs. She froze, and took another breath. There it was. Maya smelled incense. Sandalwood incense. And burning camphor.

  Something was very, very wrong here.

  She was desperate for light now, desperate to see where she was. More than anything Maya was desperate for help. She tried to call out, to scream. She heard movement. Someone must have heard her. Help was coming. A quivering light floated toward her, so eerie for a second she freaked out.

  Until a face came into view, lit from below and distorted by the flickering flame. The features appeared demonic, so scary the hairs on Maya's neck stood on end and she felt the fingers of a chill through the heated fever. The woman spoke in hushed tones, kohl-lined eyes filled with concern and what Maya could've sworn was grief.

  A deep red sari hugged her body, the color bleeding into the shadows. Most definitely not a nurse. Maya stepped backward, away from the apparition, sure the woman was something from her nightmares. And as she fell, her heart stammered almost to a halt.

  Before she passed out, two things stuck out clearly; spotlighted in her mind.

  The flickering oil-lamp threw its shivering light upon stone walls and large stone columns reaching high toward the ceiling, higher than the little light could go. Hand-carved stone walls.