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

by K. N. Banet

  I watched him enjoy his first authentic Turkish coffee, then led him to our last stop in the Market—the messengers. Run by a hodgepodge of species, they could get a package anywhere at any time and had never failed me. I didn’t use them regularly because of particular dangers my people dealt with, but today was important.

  “I need someone who can go off the beaten path, preferably originating in New Delhi or Kanpur. This is a private affair.”

  “I can find someone. Come with me,” the fae said.

  Following him into the building, an honest skyscraper, he led us to the third floor, then left us in a room alone. When he came back, a young man followed him. The Market was too much chaos for me to properly identify the supernatural my normal way, so I looked for visual tells. There were some species I couldn’t trust with this, and some I could, but no matter what, I had to be careful.

  “I’m a werewolf from Kanpur with no pack association. What do you need?” he asked, holding out his hand. His accent was thick, bringing old memories—visions of a home I hadn’t been to in over a hundred years, the smell of spices, the compound I grew up on, and the market I stole from when I ran away.

  “I need you to drop this off at a specific address. There won’t be anyone to pick it up. I’ll only give these instructions once. I’ll know if this package fails to make it, and the consequences will be swift,” I said, keeping my face stiff and unemotional and didn’t shake his hand. Werewolves were stronger, and I was extra cautious about them after January. I didn’t need to give anyone the opportunity to bash my face in.

  The fae nodded, then disappeared. With him gone, I felt only marginally better about telling this werewolf more and could finally get down to business.

  “I’m listening,” the werewolf said, his posture changing from relaxed to professional.

  “I’m Kaliya Sahni, female ruler of the nagas. You’ll be dropping it off where an ally of my people can find it. You’ll take it to Bahali.” I gave him an address and exactly where to leave it on the farm in that village. I didn’t tell him what would happen next because he didn’t need to know. He took it all in, then nodded.

  “Do not fail me,” I warned softly as I held out the small box.

  “I won’t,” he promised, taking the box. “I’ll send confirmation in under twenty-four hours if I have a number or email where to send it.”

  I wrote down a secondary email on a pad left on the table. He folded it and tucked it away, then stood up. He bowed one more time, then left the room.

  “I hate ruling,” I muttered, watching the closed door.

  “I bet when she’s older, she’ll really appreciate the gift,” Raphael said gently, reaching out to touch my shoulder.

  “I hope so.”

  We left the skyscraper, then the Market.

  4

  Chapter Four

  “Want to hit the gym?” Raphael asked as he walked by my office. When we got home from the Market, we had gone to our own corners of the house to relax. I checked the time and saw it was already six o’clock.

  Did I really sit in here for three and a half hours?

  “What time are you making dinner?” I asked before giving him an answer.

  “I was thinking eight. You hungry now?” He leaned on the door frame. “It’s been a couple of days since you’ve had a real meal.”

  “Not hungry yet, but it’s a good time for me to eat something filling.” I stood and stretched, raising my arms over my head and groaning as my back and shoulders popped. “We still have no word from Cassius. I hope he went out to look at that place again today, but there’s a chance he won’t make it out until tomorrow. I don’t want to harass him about it.”

  “What have you been working on in the meantime?” He let me walk right up to him, not budging an inch as I stopped in front of him, expecting him to move out of the way.

  “I decided to spend the afternoon looking over everything we had. I lost track of time,” I explained. “I’ll meet you in the gym.”

  He nodded, then headed in that direction while I went into my bedroom and changed into something better to work out in. When I made it to the gym, he was already doing bicep curls on the bench, watching his form in the mirror. I went for my treadmill. While I loved the Arizona heat, I couldn’t run outdoors in one hundred fifteen-degree weather. It would be suspicious. If someone saw me, they would ask questions…or just think I was insane.

  I ran for thirty minutes, then switched with Raphael. He took over the treadmill, and I went into the upper body workout, a series of lightning round exercises.

  The hour passed quickly, and we were both sweating when it was over. Sitting down on the mat, he grabbed my ankle to keep me from walking away. Knowing I couldn’t escape, I moved to stand over him, running my hands through his damp hair. He put his forehead on my thigh, and I took a moment to enjoy the silent companionship, my fangs pulsing as they tried to convince me to take this a step further.

  The intimacy was too easy. When I tried to step away, uncomfortable with my feelings and the situation, he held me there.

  “Raph,” I said, my voice not breaking a whisper.

  “Kaliya,” he murmured, his grip on my legs growing tighter. I loved it. Raphael didn’t treat me like I was breakable. “When was the last time you milked your venom?”

  I looked down to find his soulful brown eyes staring up at me. His hands moved up and down my thighs. I was glad that my legs didn’t feel like jelly as he increased the pressure and squeezed. Knowing what this man could do from the position he was in made me intensely aware of his every movement.

  “Six days ago.” I was feeling every single one of those six days. I had to milk my venom every week now, and I was coming due. Even a healthy sex life wasn’t enough and wouldn’t be until I finally got out of his constant presence or mated him.

  I was in a torture device of my own making, trapped in the painful combination of need, desire, and fear. Nagas had one mate, decided by some sick biology—though others believed it was fate. I couldn’t just pick any man off the street and decide he was the one. No, that would be too simple. Nagas spent their single years looking for one specific person, most not lucky enough to have options—one person who was truly immune to their venom and would find it more of an aphrodisiac. It would give them pleasure, not pain. It would also tie their lives permanently to the naga after a single bite—that single bite creating the mating bond. It was always a human or another naga, though human was more common. Until that mating happened, there was no possibility for children, and children were a big fucking deal for nagas.

  Raphael was my person, and he was neither naga nor human, but something else. Found by happenstance, and with a slew of his own problems, Raphael was my mate, and he had no idea. I lived with him, slept with him, fought with and for him, but he had no idea.

  And he never will if I play my cards right.

  While the companionship was nice, it also terrified me. My fangs were always ready to go, my venom was overproducing, and my body ached for him. I only had two options.

  Find a way to be rid of him or mate him.

  I knew what my decision was. Looking down at him, I felt a pang of guilt. There really was no other option. Whatever was going on with him was dangerous enough. I could never, in good conscience, give him the problems of my people as well. And I disagreed with the idea of tying someone permanently to me, both on principle and because it was me. I was a mess. That wasn’t fair to anyone.

  Yet I couldn’t resist him—his charm and his loyalty, his body and the pleasure he was able to give me. It was so overwhelming, I wasn’t sure what feelings were caused by biology or were natural anymore.

  There were moments when I truly loathed what I was. This was one of those moments.

  “So, you’re due,” he said, a sensual smile forming. I didn’t know how to feel about him knowing my milking schedule. He paid too much attention, and that was strange. He’d already revealed to me that he watched me more car
efully than I had anticipated. For years, no one gave a damn about what I did on a daily basis, and suddenly, there was this guy, trying to learn every little nuance of my life.

  “Are you offering?” This was leading somewhere, and against my better judgment, I walked right into it. It was irresistible.

  “Well, I don’t plan to cook for another hour, and we’re already sweaty, so…” He gave me a smirk that threatened to stop my heart.

  Shouldn’t have had sex with him. Shouldn’t have walked into this conversation. Time to hit the brakes and get out of here.

  “You’re insatiable,” I said, trying to condemn him, but it was a fight I knew I couldn’t keep up long. I’d willingly given him my bed, never guessing what the repercussions would be—he kept trying to get back into it and succeeding in his endeavors. I normally had more control…so I thought. “And an hour isn’t enough time.” I shook my head as I thought about just how long he could keep me awake once a bed and venom were involved.

  “It never is.” Releasing me for just a moment, he got to his feet. His stomach growled as he stretched his back, his arms over his head in a mocking impression of a cat. “Looks like I’m too hungry to do much else than eat, anyway.”

  “You’re always hungry.” Rolling my eyes as I started for the gym door, he followed my every step.

  “Well, when I get to eat something as beautiful as you—”

  I closed the gym door in his face and upped my pace. I could hear him laughing as he got it opened and rushed to keep up.

  I was in the kitchen by the time he could contain himself and follow me. I wanted a glass of water before heading to take a shower, and he caught me while I was at the sink.

  “That was mean,” he murmured, wrapping his arms around my waist. I leaned back into him without thinking.

  “You are very touchy-feely today,” I murmured, trying to look back at him over my shoulder.

  “Well, you’re the one who took me on a date,” he teased, kissing the soft, sensitive spot under my ear.

  “It was not a date. I was running errands,” I tried to argue. I hadn’t even considered he would take it that way.

  “Mmmhm.” He kept kissing. “And I want you to stay in a good mood. I like you when you’re in a good mood.”

  That made me chuckle. I was trying very hard to stay in the good mood I had found at the Market. I let him hold me for a long time, unable to bring myself to end it. Closing my eyes, I wished things weren’t so fucking complicated. I wished life wasn’t so unfair.

  I had never wanted to find my mate, and now he was holding me. Everything felt right and so wrong at the same time.

  It could never last. I couldn’t let it.

  My heart squeezed.

  “I’m going to go take a shower,” I whispered, pulling away. He let me go without a word, but I could feel his eyes on me as I walked out of the room.

  It was a longer shower than it needed to be. I wasted forty-five minutes under the blast of the high water pressure, letting it drown out the sound of my home. When I stepped out, I took my time drying off, fixing my hair back into its braids before moving onto my jewelry. I replaced my lip ring and put my favorite earrings back in. Reaching out, my hand hovered over one last piece of jewelry, intended for my face, and my heart broke a little. Picking it up, I blinked tears for a moment, annoyed the thought had hit me at that particular moment. I turned the nose hoop over in my fingers, considering it for a long time.

  I had been raised with traditional naga values. Many of those values overlapped with classic human Hinduism, nagas a part of the mythology. Nagas were part of several mythologies, really, but our origin was India. Many of our ideas on body modification were similar to the humans, just one of the many overlaps.

  Most of my piercings had been done by my parents. She had picked out this hoop when I was young, telling me when I found my mate, she would pierce my nose just like hers was on the day of the official ceremony. Adhar had kept it safe until I finally reached out to him in my thirties. Once I reached adulthood, he’d sent it to me with a number of other small items my parents had left for me. I had hated him for sending reminders of dead parents and brothers I didn’t want or need.

  I had been so excited when she’d given it to me, though, a gold hoop just like hers. She wanted me to be a warrior and a woman with a good mate like she had. She wanted me to be bold and fierce and told me people would love me for that. Everything would be perfect.

  Ha.

  I put the hoop back in its spot and closed the drawer that held it safely.

  I had become all of those things.

  I had found the mate.

  And nothing was close to perfect.

  In fact, the dreams I held as a young girl were now my waking nightmare—a burden and a curse—a complicated mess I couldn’t untangle.

  I’m in a fucking mood today.

  I put on my best happy face and walked back into the main area of the house, looking into the kitchen from the living room to see Raphael setting up to cook. The ache continued to grow, though.

  I wanted Indian food.

  “Hey, let me cook,” I said, walking into the kitchen. “I know a curry recipe. I haven’t made it in a long time, but I’m craving it.”

  “Ah, sure!” He seemed confused, backing away with his hands up. “Do you want any help?”

  “No, it’s fine,” I said softly, diving into my kitchen cupboards and pulling out everything I needed. My mother would have had all of these spices and herbs fresh, but I had to make do with store-bought. I don’t know why I even had them stocked, as if I had subconsciously bought them and put them away, ready for this moment. This wasn’t the first time I had a moment when I craved a taste from home, but it happened rarely. I tried to pretend I had never lived in India, even if the fact was unavoidable. I was a naga, so there was really no denying it in the long run.

  I moved quickly, falling into a space in my mind I tried to avoid like the plague. I remembered my mom going through every step of the recipe, over and over until all her children knew how to do it. She made everyone learn to cook. It wasn’t just a female skill, but a necessary one for survival.

  I was so good at going through the recipe, I could make roti at the same time. I preferred roti over naan, though both were delicious.

  Raphael never tried to get in my way. I had no idea what I looked like to him, but I had a feeling it was like a tornado descended on the kitchen.

  “There,” I finally declared, making two plates. “I decided to use the chicken breasts you had thawed. Hope you don’t mind. Usually, I would do seafood, but we don’t have any.”

  “That smells delicious,” he said, taking one of the plates. I put mine on the sad, unused dining table before going back for the bread.

  “There’s more if that’s not enough,” I said, pointing back into the kitchen as I sat down. I dived into the food, satisfied it was at least edible. Based on the moan from Raphael, he was enjoying it.

  It’s not as good as my mother’s. Too bad he’ll never get to try it.

  The ache wouldn’t leave now, and my good mood was crashing down on me—too much naga and India for one day. I finished eating, knowing there was only one solution for nights like this.

  “Hope you liked it,” I said as I dumped my plate in the sink. “I’ll come back later and clean up—”

  “I’ll put it away when I’m done,” he said, cutting in with a smile as I looked at him. “This was really good, Kaliya. Thank you.”

  “No problem. I’m going to try to get some work done.”

  I headed straight for my private office, locked myself in, then sat at my computer, ignoring the Board. I sent Cassius a message, asking if he’d gone back to the house, and his response was fast.

  Cassius: No. I’m going to go tomorrow. I had some personal business catch up to me today, and it needed to be handled.

  I hissed but didn’t send back a biting message about how important it was that he went back for a sec
ond sweep during the daytime. I knew I was just feeling bitchy and decided to click through the files I had saved about Raphael’s case again. From Mygi to Raphael to the prison incident, starting from the beginning and going through every single piece of information.

  Again.

  For the hundredth time.

  It was easier than thinking about India.

  5

  Chapter Five

  I woke up the next morning with Raphael in my bed. It had gotten late, and I found him in my living room watching a movie. It had all happened without a word, a way for me to drown myself in something nice, even while I beat myself up for it.

  As we laid there, I traced my fingers over his scars. They were all the same ones he had when I met him since nothing could hurt him now to do any lasting damage. The experiments done on him had scarred, though. For whatever reason, they had left him with evidence of the terrible things they had done to him, like the scar around his wrist. They had cut off one of his damn hands, then let it heal back on without helping it.

  “I’m not going to say that’s ticklish, but…” He grabbed my hand and brought it to his lips. “It feels strange.”

  “Strange how?” I asked, leaning my head on his chest.

  “Tingles,” he said softly. “And when you trace over them…I think about how they got there.”

  “Sorry.” Feeling like an asshole, I decided it was time to get out of bed, but he kept me there, using the arm I was lying on to hold me in place.

  “It’s not your fault. Don’t go.”

  “I want them to pay for every single one of these scars. You know that, right? I won’t stop until I’ve got them, so they can pay for this.” My anger and heartbreak over what had been done to him was threatening to overwhelm me. I was accustomed to the trauma and dangers of the supernatural world. For all its amazing power and capacity to do good, it was also a dark society with a bloody history, a bloody present, and probably a bloody future.