The Apsara Chronicles Boxed Set

by T. G. Ayer

  Vee tilted her head, trying to get a look at what was drawing their attention. She caught a brief glimpse of a glassy, undulating substance, that shimmered like dragonfly’s wings, reflecting the multitude of colors of the light spectrum. And as she attempted to study it harder she began to spin around.

  Shaking her head she stopped looking over her shoulder, straightened her spine and then tried again.

  And she froze in place, unable to think, unable to breathe.

  She had wings.

  Great big, giant transparent wings that when they flapped they looked like every aura in the world had joined together to give her the power of flight.

  Vee let out a hesitant laugh.

  And plummeted to the ground.

  She hit the earth to the sound of her mother’s scream, Nivaan’s shocked yell, and Syama’s terrified growl.

  Crap.

  If she survived this she was going to be in so much trouble.

  Chapter 50

  When Vee opened her eyes, almost a day had passed and the house was bustling with energy and activity. After checking her messages, a whole raft of them from Rossi and Brent, with updates and condolences, from Max and Jo with love and sympathies, from the Chief and Monroe with commiserations and gratitude for her willingness to share jurisdiction on the case.

  She showered and changed into the sari-suit, ironed and laid out for her at the foot of her bed, her thoughts drifting to a memory that teased her.

  Nivaan, sitting on the bed beside her, telling her that everything will be okay. Telling her she was one bad-ass MF, and that she should never forget who she was. Telling her too that they had time to figure things out, that he wanted to see what the future held for them.

  Vee blinked away the memory, her emotions somewhere between confused and angry. As she reached for the long coat, her phone pinged. She tapped the message and the screen filled with the face of a chubby, completely adorable drooling baby.

  Here is some drool and a pair of chubby cheeks courtesy of my niece, Sona. I’ll pop by later to visit, but I’m babysitting at the moment. Sisters are a PITA especially when they think they deserve date DAY (as if date night isn’t enough!) ::eyeroll:: TTYL

  Niece?

  Sister?

  Vee slapped her hand over her forehead. Talk about misunderstanding. Had it been his niece and sister she’d heard over the phone? Vee’s cheeks flamed as she thought about how she’d brushed the poor guy off.

  Ugh. What an idiot.

  She could almost hear Radhima’s voice in her head telling her she had to make it up to him, and to stop behaving like an immature child.

  Ma was so right.

  Vee smiled. That text message was hilarious too. He sounded like a damned teenager.

  The low rumble of conversation from downstairs rose another level and Vee took a deep breath, focusing on getting ready.

  The sari coat was long, reaching to her knees, hand-embroidered with a gold-and-red paisley border. Beneath it was a skirt made with such lengths of fabric that it stood out almost like a crinoline.

  She slipped on low black heels, which would never be seen beneath the bulk of the skirt, and put on a pair of hooped earrings. Ma had bought her those last year, a gift from her last trip to India. Vee blinked back tears as she ran her fingers over the stones, as a multitude of colors that eerily matched those she’d seen in the iridescent wings she suddenly possessed.

  Thankfully, she didn’t see them at the moment, or she’d never have been able to apply her makeup—however minimal—without getting herself cross-eyed. She took a deep breath and headed downstairs.

  Ma’s favorite tunes played on the music system, a few Gayathri Mantras, a couple of Bhangra hits, some Norah Jones, the eclectic blend of music reminiscent of a woman’s many years of tastes and experience.

  Vee tried hard not to cry as she wove her way through the people who’d come to attend the service and see her grandmother off.

  She hid in the kitchen until Syama and Devi—both clad in saris—walked in, her mother’s face lined with tension and grief, and something else Vee couldn’t identify.

  And then she remembered.

  “Where’s Dad?” Vee asked softly.

  “Asleep. In our . . . his room. Nivaan has him on a drip for fluids. It’ll be awhile before he’s back to normal.” Devi hesitated and Vee had a feeling the coming weeks of transition were going to be chock-full of strange.

  After her mother had left the family home, Mac had moved out of their bedroom and taken the room across the hall from Vee’s. He’d said it was because he wanted to be closer to her in case she needed him, but now she understood that he may well have known more about his wife’s feelings than he’d let on.

  The coming days would reveal a lot, with the old husband having to figure out where he fit into the non-relationship between his wife and her new husband. Things were going to get strange.

  Vee nodded, reluctant to continue the conversation as it was so clearly painful for her mother. Mac and Akil came to stand in the doorway, his white garb so appropriate now, and the two women shifted to let them in. The sirin gave her a sad smile and stood beside the sink, clearly unsure of what to say.

  Mac came straight to Vee and gathered her into a hug. “So sorry, kiddo.”

  Vee curled her arms around his neck. “Sorry too,” she whispered, knowing how much he’d loved Ma.

  Vee moved away and wiped the corners of her eyes with the tips of her fingers. “We don’t need raccoon eyes, okay? You know how much Ma hated raccoon eyes.” That elicited chuckles from everyone and then they all fell silent as they stared at her. “You guys are making me feel weird.”

  She knew they were recalling the sight of those amazing wings.

  Mac cleared his throat, about to say something when his movements slowed and he froze in place. A glance at her mother, Syama, and Akil confirmed that they too were frozen. This smacked of a certain informant of Vee’s.

  She turned on her heel and she headed down the hall to the front door. A peek into the living room and then the dining room confirmed that every single person within was frozen in time.

  Globs of juice and cold drinks were taking flight, and a few light pastries and cakes had begun to float off their owner’s plates.

  Vee shook her head, and peering through the glass, confirmed her visitor.

  Karan.

  She opened the door to see Karan standing on the porch, dressed in a dark suit, patiently waiting for her.

  “Oh, hello,” she said, feeling all the more strange as she opened the door and he walked inside. The man was an informant and he was now inside her home.

  “Namaste,” he said, palms together as he bowed before her, then straightened with a smile, “My deepest sympathies for your pain.”

  She noticed he didn’t mention anything about loss.

  “Thank you,” she said, hesitating to ask him what he was doing here.

  He cleared his throat and for the shortest instant he seemed to glow with a golden light. “I’m here to provide an update. The cult you uncovered was part of a countrywide network, the main purpose of which was to ‘resurrect’ Narasimha. The problem with that course of action was, of course, that the Lord himself is in voluntary seclusion due to penance.”

  Vee sighed and leaned against the balustrade post behind her. As fatigued as she was, and though the temptation to sit on the bottom stair was great, Vee didn’t give in, didn’t want to appear weak in front of this man who she had yet to figure out.

  She met his gaze. “Did they think their sacrifices would give Lord Narasimha some kind of power that would help bring him back?”

  “Something like that,” he said, nodding, “but the members of the cult were human. They were there because they wanted to become mahabidala.”

  “I didn’t know that was possible.”

  “It isn’t.”

  “Ah, I see.” Menon had been using those poor people.

  “Menon and his partner duped
these humans in order to obtain their hearts and to extort money to fund their efforts. They were hunting for mahabidala to follow their cause but the species is so whittled down that those remaining are very careful of falling on the wrong side of the gods.”

  Vee nodded. “We couldn’t trace the phone.” She said the words almost to herself.

  Karan answered anyway, “The phone belonged to the jogger—Spires. Menon’s assistant removed it from the body. He’d been using the phone; a reckless and stupid thing to do, as he found out later when you tracked it to the professor’s home. I have sent the details to your email so you may let your people know. Menon had IT people on his payroll as well, innocent people who had no idea how they factored into his scheme. Your investigation will find that the tech people were ignorant of the details and were not involved in the cult itself. Menon was smart that way.”

  Vee watched Karan’s face. “How is it that you know so much? The underground grapevine is that informative?” She wasn’t sure if she’d ever be able to figure the man out. There was just something . . . odd . . . about him.

  He shrugged as he studied the living room filled with motionless people. “I have my methods.” He shifted his head and met her eyes. “Let’s just say that you have people out there who have your best interests at heart. People who know your purpose and who want to support you in achieving it.” Vee was about to ask him a question when his face darkened and she closed her mouth. “Unfortunately, there are also those who wish to see you fail, those who will do anything to ensure you do not achieve the grace that is intended for you. There are those who have already put things in motion in order to harm you.”

  The silence in the hall was so loud Vee’s head felt like it was going to implode. “The assassin?” she asked softly.

  He nodded.

  She didn’t bother to ask how he knew about it.

  “We have the suspect and we are busy with interrogations. We will update as soon as we know more, but in the meantime it would be best for you to remain on your guard and take extra care.”

  “Who is ‘we’?” Vee asked, her suspicion escalating.

  He gave a short bow, ignoring her question. “You know how to reach me if you need something.” He tugged his lapels and turned to the door. “Oh, and I have a new case that you may be interested in. I will have more information for you tomorrow. In the meantime I wish you a good rest, and strength through this difficult time.”

  Vee didn’t respond. Instead she just stared at him, her mind filled with questions that she had little energy to ask.

  He smiled, his face again glimmering with the strange glow.

  Then he lifted his hand, clicked his fingers, and disappeared. Vee blinked and was back in the kitchen, with Mac saying, “Do you want to say a few words at the service?”

  Vee flinched, startled by his closeness, and let out a soft laugh. “Er . . . no way. I am not a public speaker. You do it. Or ask Mom.”

  She looked over her shoulder and met her mother’s eyes. Tears glinted in them but Devi blinked them away, straightened her shoulders and walked out of the kitchen. “I’ll speak if Vee does.”

  Vee rolled her eyes and followed her mother. For a moment she felt like she had little choice in the matter, but the truth was she had all the choice, all the power, to make the right decisions for herself.

  The future was ahead and she planned to take it one step at a time.

  Wings and all.

  ~TO BE CONTINUED~

  The APSARA CHRONICLES will continue with GODS ASCENDENT

  Copyright

  tgayer.com

  Tee’s Blog

  Tee’s Newsletter

  IMMORTAL BOUND

  THE APSARA CHRONICLES BOOK 1

  Copyright © 2017 by T.G. Ayer

  All rights reserved.

  Cover art by Eduardo Priego

  Cover art © T.G. Ayer. All rights reserved.

  License Notes

  This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This eBook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person. If you are reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to the Retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, places, businesses, characters and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, actual events or locales is purely coincidental.

  Part II

  GODS ASCENDENT - APSARA CHRONICLES 2

  The Apsara Chronicles Box Set

  T.G. Ayer

  Contents

  Chapter 51

  Chapter 52

  Chapter 53

  Chapter 54

  Chapter 55

  Chapter 56

  Chapter 57

  Chapter 58

  Chapter 59

  Chapter 60

  Chapter 61

  Chapter 62

  Chapter 63

  Chapter 64

  Chapter 65

  Chapter 66

  Chapter 67

  Chapter 68

  Chapter 69

  Chapter 70

  Chapter 71

  Chapter 72

  Chapter 73

  Chapter 74

  Chapter 75

  Chapter 76

  Chapter 77

  Chapter 78

  Chapter 79

  Chapter 80

  Chapter 81

  Chapter 82

  Chapter 83

  Chapter 84

  Chapter 85

  Chapter 86

  Chapter 87

  Chapter 88

  Chapter 89

  Chapter 90

  Chapter 91

  Chapter 92

  Chapter 93

  Chapter 94

  Copyright

  Chapter 51

  Vee ducked, glad when the bullet that had been aimed at her heart whizzed over her shoulder instead. Life seemed to keep throwing things at Vee, and she had to wonder when the day would come when she would not be able to survive it.

  Not that she wasn’t up for the challenge. It was just there was only so much a girl could take.

  Vee grunted, pain flaring in her wing as the bullet tore through the fragile dragonfly skin, leaving a ragged hole behind. She glanced up at the wound, scowling at the ripped membrane, which—despite the injury—still shimmered, incandescent even in the murky light.

  Vee sucked in a breath and sank low, shaking her head at her carelessness. She ought to be aware of the dangers by now, ought to know that despite the power of her ethereal appendages, they were still as fragile as a butterfly’s wing.

  Even without hellhounds and owl-shifters to watch her back.

  A twinge of worry ripped through Vee’s gut. But she couldn’t afford to be distracted by thoughts of her missing bodyguard. Besides, she could protect herself well enough.

  So said the guns and knives strapped to her upper thighs, the blades in her boots and the chakra tied to a loop at her waist, not to mention the trishula, hidden by godly glamor and currently hanging from a strap off her shoulder. She’d dressed in as close to all-black combat gear as she was inclined to get; jeans, turtleneck, warm multi-pocketed jacket and beanie to hide her hair. Her only concession to style? Refusing to wear combat boots and instead running after demons in a pair of medium-heeled, sexy knee-high leather boots.

  No-one gets between Vee and her boots.

  Fashion aside, Vee was well-equipped to protect herself. Or so she’d believed. She was now tempted by Mac’s offer of bulletproof clothing, just so that she could minimize the risk. Nivaan had been pushing the issue as well—him being all protective of her was very sweet, but he’d better not push it. Still, considering what she came across on a daily basis, protective gear would be a welcome bonus.

  O
nly problem? As far as she knew, bulletproof clothing didn’t come in wing size.

  Now, she folded her wings as close to her body as she could; she had to protect them as much as possible if she had any hope of using them should the time come.

  How incongruous. A badass, demon-killing apsara with fragile diaphanous wings? It just didn’t fit. That was like giving Lara Croft a feather instead of a knife.

  Vee shifted her gaze around the warehouse, then peered between the two crates in front of her, trying to get a look at her assailant. The place was one gigantic room, housing thousands of boxes, crates, and small shipping containers. Lots of places to hide.

  Two months had passed since her entire life had changed. Dreams had come true, her greater fears had been realized, and she’d been granted boons from the gods.

  Boons, and gods. When related to Vee herself, she had to wonder if such blessings would be a precursor to more trials and tribulations in the future. Good things never just fell into Vee’s lap. They usually came accompanied by bad news, trouble, or a bucket load of crap.

  And the gods? Gods were known to be a fickle lot—back when they used to exist, of course. Vee wanted to laugh. She’d never expected that she’d ever have to face a real god. Gods had faded from existence centuries ago, and most people had ceased believing. Vee included.