Book Read Free

Kaliya Sahni: Volume One (Kaliya Sahni Volumes Book 1)

Page 6

by K. N. Banet


  I locked up my office and went to my bedroom, decorated in rich browns and reds, the way I liked it. There were flares of splash colors, and it reminded me of home. It was the only room where I let myself get sentimental and decorate it like any normal person would. Before getting into the bed, I went to my bathroom and brushed my teeth, letting my fangs drop to brush them as well. They were hidden behind my human canines, and they signaled I was just as venomous in human form as I was in snake form. Once I was satisfied with that, I washed my face, wondering if I always looked so damn tired.

  Probably.

  I opened the medicine cabinet and hit a button hidden in the back of the bottom shelf. A small hole opened up behind me and revealed my second safe room. I rarely forgot to check it before bed, and when I did, it was because I was exhausted. Tonight, after messing around with Sinclair and breaking into his place, I knew I wouldn’t be able to sleep unless I knew it was ready for me. None of the food inside was expired, and the guns were properly loaded. Three vials of my venom waited to coat any weapon I could need, hanging from the walls inside.

  Glad I checked, I hit the button again, and it closed. The button read my fingerprint, which was the best security I could have for it. If I had decked it out with a retinal scan like my office, I would have gotten killed a long time ago. This was the safe room I had to get to the moment I woke up, and I couldn’t fight with finicky technology in those situations.

  I fell into my bed and controlled my breathing. My room was fifteen degrees cooler than the rest of my house, and it wasn’t because I hated the heat. It forced me to get tired, and eventually, sleep claimed me.

  I was up at two in the afternoon with plenty of time before sunset. Jumping out of bed as the AC stopped in the room and let it heat up, I felt energized. Before going to the office, I made a pot of coffee and took a mug out to my back porch, standing in the sun with the hot drink. It had to be over a hundred and ten, and I loved it, soaking it in. I wasn’t technically cold-blooded, but like my snake form, my human form enjoyed the heat much more than the cold. When I settled in Phoenix, that had been the only thing on my mind. Living somewhere it was hot most of the year.

  “Mother would have loved it here,” I said softly, sipping my coffee. Longing was a sharp pain I tried to avoid, but at that moment, I let it happen. Whatever the reason, my mind turned to thoughts of my family. Father would have been fine in Phoenix, but he liked humidity, a lot of it. So had my brothers. My mother and I loved dry heat. She and I were the only ones. Most nagas preferred places with a bit of humidity.

  I can’t do this reminiscing bullshit right now. I need to get to work.

  I turned my back on the view and the sun, leaving thoughts of my family with them, and headed back indoors. When I sat down in my secondary office and checked the computer, I was glad to see both searches were done. It was always nice to be right about something.

  I glanced over the monitor and hissed. That was the problem—The Board. Any time I dealt with The Board, I thought of my family more often. It was never a good time for me or anyone else foolish enough to get involved. Then again, The Board started because a group of people murdered my entire family in front of me, and I was still trying to figure out who. The why had been easy, but the who was an elusive bit of information I was still trying to find.

  Looking back at the monitor, my mood soured. I clicked through the results. If Raphael was posing as an illegal immigrant, there was a slim chance I would find anything official or a real paper trail, but I could hope there was a minor arrest, a note in a file, or something small and innocuous somewhere. Raphael and his history of running didn’t point to there being any bank accounts in his name. He would need to use his real name and identification, something he definitely couldn’t do, or have enough falsified data.

  I clicked through the results, wondering if I would find anything. His aliases were incredibly common combinations. He was smart, and I had a shred of respect for him as I realized none of the results were him. He was good at staying under the radar, which made me wonder how Mygi kept finding him. I went back to the print outs and noted how they used security cameras to find him in different areas. They must have been using some very illegal facial recognition programs. Not even supernaturals were okay with that little piece of technology coming out in recent years. We didn’t want our faces tracked everywhere we went through the ages. I, personally, only had one photo of myself, and it was from when I was young. My parents decided we needed a family photo when photography was just really hitting its stride as new, capable, and affordable technology. It was so old, I was certain I was going to need to hire someone to restore it and make new copies.

  So, a supernatural company probably using facial recognition software was a no-no. I tucked that thought away as I dug deep into what was given to Sinclair. Something here gave him enough information to think he could capture Raphael tonight.

  I found it. I had taken nearly a hundred photos while I was there, so I tried not to kick myself for missing it the first time I went through them. They had four addresses of places where they caught him on security cameras. I cross-referenced the information with a map and discovered a few apartment complexes and a new subdivision being built. They said he frequently hid as a construction worker, which played up a lot of human stereotypes he was probably hoping made him ignorable.

  I printed a piece of the map of the Phoenix area, focusing on the city of Goodyear and circled the four businesses they had caught him in. They were all still shots from traffic monitoring cameras, accidentally catching him coming out of businesses. It took some money to get a facial recognition program to constantly look through them since those cameras didn’t take photos. The program had to monitor the footage twenty-four-seven and grab a screenshot once it found a possible match. The problem was it generally found thousands of matches, and someone had to go through and check each one.

  No wonder they want him caught. They’re probably sinking millions each year into this. It’s amazing their company stays in the black.

  I knew what I had to do. I needed to get on the ground and see if I could find him. All I had was a general area and a picture from ten years before. The photos they had weren’t good enough for me to want to use, so I had to rely on recognizing him myself.

  I checked the time. It was three. The sun was going to go down in only three hours, and I was going to have to hoof it to find him. I needed to move. My bag was still ready from the night before and on the passenger seat of my less audacious car.

  This is the perfect time to back out, Kaliya. Paden would tell you that if you called him.

  I jumped behind the wheel after locking up and pulled out the moment my garage door was open enough.

  7

  Chapter Seven

  I found a place to park at the town’s local ballpark at three thirty. Two-and-a-half hours until sundown. Grabbing my bag, I got out of my car and locked it, making sure by jiggling the handle. I used my phone to guide me to the locations where Raphael had been spotted, keeping my eyes open for either him or any supernaturals. I needed to know if a fae or witch was scoping the area before Sinclair woke up.

  I chose to hit up the local construction first, hoping I could catch him at work. I didn’t intend to approach him if I saw him, not immediately. If I called him out in public, the chance of him splitting was high, and I wouldn’t be able to explain. In private, I could at least try to explain what was going on, and he might listen…if he didn’t run the moment he saw me.

  Walking fast, I entered the subdivision and headed down the roads. It wasn’t a short walk, but it wasn’t the worst, either. I saw the construction sites within thirty minutes of parking. Two hours until Sinclair was going to be awake and ready to get moving.

  I didn’t pause as I walked by the new houses going up, generously looking at the construction workers as if I was interested in the men building houses, getting sweaty. Some women are into that, so I shouldn’t look too out of the o
rdinary. Maybe I should dye my hair though, which made me stand out, but none of them paid me any mind. I looked through the different groups, working on the six homes going up, but no one stood out and none of them resembled the young man in the photo. Frowning as I hit a cul-de-sac, I turned around, hoping to find him on the way back.

  “Hey, miss! You lost?” someone finally called out. I stood and tried to look as doe-eyed as I could.

  “Maybe?” I said, hoping to find the man who spoke. I caught him walking out of one of the sites onto the sidewalk about ten feet in front of me, wiping his hands off. I hurried toward him. “I’m looking for an old friend. I heard he might be working around here?” I twisted my hands uncomfortably. “All I have is an old picture of him.”

  “Yeah, let’s see it.” He gestured for me to give over the picture, and I pulled my bag to my front to dig Raphael’s outdated photo from it. Handing it over to the guy, his eyes went wide.

  “You’re looking for Manuel? He’s off today,” the guy said, handing the photo back. “That’s a really old picture, miss. He’s a lot older now.”

  “I’ve been looking for him for a long time,” I said softly.

  “He’s pretty closed lipped about his life, but man, he should have told me he knew a pretty woman like you.” The guy smiled. “I’m Pedro. I’m in charge of everyone here.” He extended a hand, and I took it. He did that weird thing where men won’t give women a proper handshake, grabbing my fingers and lifting my hand up like he was about to kiss the top.

  Immediate turn off, Pedro. I could kill you with that hand.

  I pulled away and sighed heavily, trying to seem distressed. I was lucky they were even working on a Sunday, but it bummed me out he wasn’t around. That much was honest.

  “Do you know where I could find him today?”

  “I have an address for him, but I’m not allowed to give that out, sorry, miss.” Pedro shrugged indifferently. “You can always check back tomorrow. He doesn’t come in for overtime over the weekends, but he’s never late Monday morning.”

  He would be tomorrow. If Sinclair and Mygi have their way, he won’t ever see you again.

  “Oh, yeah, I could come back tomorrow,” I mumbled, trying to pout. I had no idea if it worked or what it looked like. I licked my lips and bit my bottom one after, looking around. “Why couldn’t you just be here today?” I whispered, obviously not talking to Pedro.

  “Let me give him a call—”

  “No!” When Pedro jumped at my suddenness, I bit my lip harder. “I was hoping to surprise him. It’s been a long time.”

  “Ahh…” Pedro nodded wisely and frowned, looking back at something. “You know, maybe I can bend the rules just this once. Manuel doesn’t have much of a life. Comes to work and leaves. Well, he drinks. I don’t think he’ll be at home, but I have an idea as to where he could be. It’s late, but he might still be there.”

  “Oh?”

  “Yeah, he goes to church here…” He pulled out his phone and started typing. “Never remember the name of the place. Not the church my wife goes to with the kids. Here.” He pointed to it. “That’s it, Saint Thomas Catholic Church. He goes every Sunday. You might find him there, or someone can help you out.”

  “Thank you so much.” I touched his arm and watched him blush before walking past him and leaving the subdivision. I didn’t expect to find Raphael at the church since it was late, but I kept my hopes up. I had no other options unless I wanted to stake out random places in Goodyear, which wasn’t a great plan with the time I had. Mind you, it had been my plan, but it seemed like I was getting lucky, so I was going to keep hoping it worked out in my favor.

  I’m not lucky enough in life. Might as well ride this wave for as long as I can.

  I found the church with only an hour and a half until sunset. Walking inside, I wanted to hiss in distaste at the décor. Catholic imagery wasn’t my favorite. Nothing against the Christian god or anything, I just thought it got a bit much sometimes.

  Bit hypocritical of me. I was raised Hindu, and there’s nobody who beats the Hindus when it comes to religious decorating.

  I was honestly a bit proud of Hindu architecture.

  The Catholic look still isn’t my thing. I don’t much like Buddhism either. I’m not even sure why.

  I only made it three steps when a priest stopped me.

  “Ma’am, how can I help you this evening?”

  “I was hoping to find someone.” I shoved the photo at him. “I’m hoping to surprise him, and his coworkers told me to come here—”

  “Manuel comes to late Mass, starts at five.” The Father smiled. I wanted to curse. That was in another twenty minutes. “He normally comes in a little late and sits at the back.”

  “Thank you,” I said politely. “I really appreciate it.”

  The Father smiled and spread his arms. “Have a wonderful day.”

  Luck is absolutely on my side today.

  I left the church quickly, half afraid I was going to light up in flames at any moment. I was a supernatural from a different religion and really had no place in a Catholic church or really any church. Temples were more my place to go.

  I found a bench outside and got comfortable. Watching the minutes tick by was excruciating as the Father’s congregation slowly trickled in. It was like a madhouse in the last few minutes before Mass started, then suddenly quiet.

  I crossed my arms, waiting, wondering if he would show up tonight. Would tonight be the night he decided to skip Mass? Would he run the moment I tried talking to him?

  I could hear the Father begin talking inside the church, his voice friendly, charismatic, and energizing. I didn’t believe a word he said, but then, that was just because I was a non-practicing Hindu and not a Catholic. I’d lived too long to take hopeful words at face value and long stopped caring about divine judgment on my immortal soul.

  A small, beaten up, clunking car pulled up. I straightened up, narrowing my eyes on the heat signature I could see through the window. The man was running hot. It was like a beacon of warmth in an already warm evening, even after all those bodies had passed by me. He ran hotter than a werewolf.

  I saw him get out of the car, and my mouth went dry as my fangs began to ache. Ten years down the line and Raphael had only grown into his looks. He sported a five o’clock shadow I wanted to touch, not caring if the stubble was itchy or ticklish. His eyes were bright medium brown, both warm and distant as he looked around the parking lot, too sad for his own good. His dark brown hair was thick but cut short. The only thing that even remotely marred his handsome face were two scars, one on his lip, the other on his cheek. And his body?

  Women probably tried to plaster themselves onto that man’s body like wet towels. He might have been wearing a long sleeve black shirt in summer, which was wild, but it did nothing to cover up how well proportioned and built he was.

  And my fangs ached, sending me past physically curious and attracted into blinding fear, then a deep-seated anger bubbled up in my chest. I had to force my fangs to keep from dropping and becoming visible if I tried to talk.

  Of all the people, of all the times, it had to be now. It just had to be right now. I was wrong about my lucky streak. This is a fucking nightmare.

  He walked closer and frowned at me.

  “Ma’am, are you okay?” he asked softly. His voice was rugged and weary. He seemed so tired.

  “Are you Raphael Dominic Alvarez?” I asked, finding my voice as I realized there was no turning back now.

  He took a step back from me, looking around the parking lot and church, probably thinking others were hiding in the bushes. He was really paranoid.

  “I’m alone,” I said quickly. I tried to bury my feelings. There was no time for them. I had to act fast. “There’s no one else. I’m not lying to you.”

  “Who are you, and how did you find me?” he demanded, fear and anger edging into his voice.

  “My name is Kaliya Sahni, and I’m trying to save your life.” A n
ew objective, a new reason to be involved, and as much as I hated it, I had to care now. “Mygi is coming after you, and they’re close. They hired a group who won’t fail like the last ones did.”

  He was breathing harder now.

  “How long do I have?” he asked, swallowing.

  “They start hunting at sundown. Maybe we should go back to your place and talk. Better yet, come with me, and they won’t be able to find you.”

  He shook his head slowly and backed away from me. I stood up quickly. He could not get away now. I couldn’t let him walk away and leave me there.

  “Raphael, please, you have to listen to me.”

  “I need to go pack. I never want to see you again. I never want to hear that name again. Do you understand me?” He was practically growling at the end. I licked my lips and tasted the air, but only picked up his scent, human and vulnerable.

  Unacceptable.

  “It’s too late for that,” I said quickly. “It’s way too late for both of us. You need to come with me. At least give me a chance to explain. Take me back to your place, and I’ll explain everything, okay? That’s all I’m asking. You can leave with or without me after that. If you want to run on your own, you can, but let me explain some things before you make that call.”

  I was desperate. If he could give me just the trip back to his place, it didn’t matter what his decision was in the end. I would get my way. I had to. There were no options, my fangs an aching reminder that I couldn’t let him go now.

  “Fuck you. I don’t need to take you anywhere.” Rage was the only thing I saw on his face now. I knew he was angry at being found again, probably because he couldn’t escape his past, but the words were uncalled for.

  I hissed, realizing the initial act he put on was just that, an act. This was an asshole who thought he knew what he was doing.

  “Fine. If you want a fucking vampire killing you tonight—” I let my own anger get the best of me for a moment. I wasn’t really angry at him. My problems weren’t his fault, but the anger was there. So was the fear. So was the need.

 

‹ Prev