by Jasmine Walt
“If you think too hard about it, you’ll give yourself a headache,” Garuda said.
The carriage jolted and sped up.
“I didn’t think this thing could go any faster.” I stood, gripping the walls, and pushed myself toward the window. Outside, the world was a blur of colors and flashes of light. “Garuda, look!”
He pressed against me, his front to my back, the only way for both of us to peer out. My stomach roiled, but I swallowed down the queasy sensation. Heat bloomed in its place, low in my belly. Great. If it wasn’t one thing . . . it was another.
“I think we’re traveling.”
“Doh, I know that.”
“No. I mean traveling through time.”
Oh man, this was getting weirder by the second. I tried to focus on the pretty lights . . . An impossible task with the hard planes of his body against mine, or the embrace of his fresh, clean scent.
“Yes, you’re getting really good at it.”
Was he sniffing me? “Um . . .” I nudged him with my elbow. “Could you . . .”
He stepped back, setting me free. His lips twitched. How could he be so . . . him right now? He could be facing death. Could he be killed?
“You’re immortal, right?”
“Yes.”
“So they can’t kill you? The naga, I mean. They can’t, like, execute you, right?”
“I’m immortal, as in long-lived. Not impervious to harm.”
What was that in his eyes? A shadow? A flash of regret? Everything suddenly felt hollow and meaningless, darker and emptier somehow.
“I won’t let them hurt you.”
“You won’t? And how do you intend to stop them?”
“By any means possible.”
And I meant it.
22
The sun streamed brightly through the tiny window of our carriage. Outside, the world was no longer all shades of color. We were clattering down a lane, an incline with a city spread out below. Domed buildings littered the landscape. Some smooth, some ridged, and all dotted with small, arched windows visible from our vantage point. Miniscule specs floated around—naga in their natural realm. Rising above them was the huge, domed hive that must be the palace of the head honcho.
“You think they’ll take us to the mother ship?”
“What are you talking about?”
“The palace thingy.” I pointed out the window before stepping back to let him look. My legs were beginning to ache anyway. I slid down to the ground and leaned against the wall.
“Are you all right?”
No. I wasn’t. I’d been ignoring the signs, but they were getting worse. The shiver skimming across my skin had nothing to do with his proximity. The burn behind my eyes wasn’t related to my emotions. And the cramp in my stomach had morphed into a desperate gnawing. I required food, and I needed it hours ago. Eamon had warned this would happen if I didn’t keep topped up. My metabolic rate was supercharged. Thank goodness I wasn’t feeding the seal on the gate of hell. It would have burned me out by now.
“Malina!”
“Huh?” I looked up into his face, which was too close. “Hey, personal space.” I shuffled away from him. “I’m fine.”
“No. No, you’re not.”
The carriage came to a halt, and the door was flung open. I expected sunlight, but instead we were greeted by gloom.
“Get out, vermin.”
Garuda offered me his hand. I shook my head. I could do this on my own steam. Down, but by no means out. Using the wicker grooves to pull myself up, I staggered toward the exit, missed a step, and stumbled toward the guard. Instead of reaching out to catch me, he jumped back. Gray stone reared up toward me, or was I rearing down? Not sure. Something snagged the back of my shirt. My nose grazed rock.
“Dammit.”
I was hauled up against a familiar chest.
“What’s wrong with her?” The guard asked.
Garuda pulled me closer. “She needs food.”
The guard snorted. “We don’t feed vermin.”
“Have you any idea who I am?” Garuda said.
“Oh, we know. This isn’t your first visit.”
The multi-verse theory? I wanted to ask Garuda. If only my mouth would work. And then my eyes stopped working, too.
The world came into focus with a scream . . . no, a yell. Garuda’s yell.
“Let her out, dammit! It’s me you want.” Garuda slammed his palms against the cell door. “I killed your damn guardian, so let her go.”
A shudder ripped through me. “You’re wasting your breath, but I have the feeling you’ve been wasting it for quite some time. Am I right?” Attempts to sit up a failure, I slumped back down. Floor was good.
“I’m trying to get you some damn food.”
“I’m okay.”
“No, you’re not. Your pulse is way too low, and your body temp is dropping rapidly.”
“You been touching me up while I was unconscious? I’m sure there’s a law against that.” The last words were slurred. I sounded like a drunken wino, probably smelled like one, too. Had I been sweating? My clothes felt damp and were stuck to my body. Garuda turned toward me. He was so big, so beautiful, and he blocked out the sun. Hang on . . . where was my fear of him? Locked in a cell with the only being who could finish me, I should be a wreck, or at least uneasy. But that primal instinct was hiding under a rock somewhere, probably accepting that this was the end. The floor was cold—icy fingers seeping into my bones, latching on and pulling me into the deep. Eamon would be so pissed right now. I’d get the I-told-you-so face and the speech. I’d take it, if only to see him again. I could tolerate the rant while wolfing down a double cheeseburger . . .
Focus on the problem and a solution would come. It was what I did best. That was my formula. But right now, I could barely sit upright, let alone focus on any issues. My stomach was a desperate, empty pit of hunger. The blood was sluggish in my veins.
“We’re in Nagalok. An actual place beyond time.” Had I said that out loud?
“Bhogavati, to be precise,” Garuda said. “Malina, stay with me. Stay awake.”
“Sure. I can do that. You think they have fries here?” Curling into myself to conserve heat, I closed my eyes.
Garuda resumed battering at the door, demanding an audience with someone called Vasuki. His words were a blur.
I was so sleepy.
“Malina. Wake up. Shit.”
My lids were lead weights refusing to open. Garuda lifted me up, cradling me against his chest and rubbing my arm to heat my skin. No churning in my belly. No desire to flee. Instead, I snuggled closer, rubbing my cheek against his chest and curling into him.
“Malina, talk to me.”
“Hmm?”
His chest rose and fell with a sigh. “Good. Okay, so what are your plans when you get back?”
Plans? My limbs felt heavy. I just wanted to sleep.
“Honestly, I don’t know what you see in Ajitah. He’s so clingy, all goo-goo eyed and let-me-pull-your-chair-out.” He shuddered. “Gives me the creeps.”
He hardly knew Ajitah. What the heck was he on about?
“And the way he follows you around all the time. It’s like he’s been taking pointers from your dog.”
Fire bloomed in my chest, and my eyes popped open. “Stop talking about him. You don’t know him.” I sat up, and our gazes locked. His brow cleared. He didn’t know what he was talking about. He’d just said those things to piss me off and encourage me to fight the lethargy. “You really don’t know him.”
“And you do?” His throat bobbed. “It’s been a handful of weeks. What do you really know about this guy?”
His tone reverberated with sincerity. This was no longer a ploy to get me mad, and I didn’t know what to say. No, wait. I did know what to say. Ajitah was a man with very little past, but it was the present that mattered, and of that, I knew enough. I opened my mouth to tell Garuda this, but he tucked in his chin and exhaled.
“Forget
I said that. It doesn’t matter what I think.”
But for some inexplicable reason, it did. My stomach clenched and growled. Goose bumps rippled across my skin. The hunger was taking over again. Soon, my body would pull me back into shutdown mode. “I can’t fight it much longer. You’re crap at keeping me mad.”
“It’s just adrenaline.” His eyes lit up. “We need to maintain those levels.” His lids grew hooded, and his gaze fell to my lips.
“What are you doing?”
“Nothing . . . yet.”
“Garuda . . .”
His mouth hovered above mine, poised temptingly for a long moment. He kissed me, sending electric fire racing through my veins, slamming into every pulse point, racing like mustangs across the open plain. Adrenaline—sweet, hot, much-needed adrenaline—flooded my body. His lips were soft yet unyielding, gentle but demanding. He was holding back. The proof was in the tension in his shoulders—shoulders my hands were exploring with glee. It was in the stiffness of his posture, pressed back against the cell wall instead of pressing down onto me. I needed more. My body was alive—no fight or flight, just want. Straddling him, I pushed up, easing his head back to claim his mouth, suddenly the aggressor. This was me, but not me. This was the predator, the darkness, the ego. The other part of me, the one grasping the moral compass, screamed it was wrong, but the darkness gave it the finger. This was survival.
He fisted my hair and pulled me back, staring deep into my eyes, his regard tumultuous. “You’re not afraid.”
No. I wasn’t. Not right now. But it was forever there, hiding in the shadows, waiting to pounce, and I didn’t want to waste another second. “I’m afraid you’ll stop.”
“That’s something you don’t need to be afraid of.” He pulled my mouth back down to his. Gripping my hip with his other huge hand, he began to grind into me.
Where a chill had been, there was fire. Shivers of a different kind lanced through me. Electric vibrations shot to my core. I throbbed with desperate, wanton need. And then his hand slid up my top to caress my skin, branding me, calling me forth. Calling . . . Shit. No, no. Not now, please.
The familiar twist of horror, followed by its companion of fear, writhed up out of their hiding spot, slammed into the need, and shattered it.
Garuda froze beneath me, his chest swelling on an inhalation. “Malina . . .”
I leapt from his lap as if I’d been scalded. “I . . . Man . . . Shitting hell.”
“Rein it in. Just rein it in. You can do this.”
Was his voice deeper? Rougher? Crap. Was he going to go all bird of prey on my arse?
“I won’t hurt you. I promise. Please. Trust me. You have to trust me.”
My mind did, but my body was being a fickle bitch.
“Breathe, just breathe.”
Inhale, exhale, and repeat. The flare dimmed into a flutter—the manageable unease that swirled in the pit of my stomach when around him. “Okay. I’m okay.”
Garuda leaned his head against the wall. “I smell food. I think they’ve finally decided to feed us.”
The scrape of metal was followed by a tray being slid into the cell. Ha, I hadn’t even noticed the little trap door at the base of the exit. The scent of spice made me dizzy with hunger. I didn’t wait for Garuda. Niceties be damned. I dug in.
“You look better,” Garuda said ten minutes later.
I patted my stomach. “I feel almost normal.” Yeah, the alarm bells warning me to keep my distance from him were back, but managing the full-blown panic was becoming second nature. It had taken almost falling into a hunger coma to shut down those alarms and get close to him. We could never be a couple.
Ajitah . . . what was I going to tell Ajitah?
Garuda made a sound of exasperation. “Stop it.”
“What?”
“Stop worrying about him. What happened never happened. You weren’t yourself, so just forget about it.”
Man, I so wanted to latch onto his words and make them real, but he was wrong. At that moment, when I’d been immersed in him—the taste, the feel, the scent of him—I’d never felt more connected. I’d been myself all right, and now the Malina with the moral compass knew what she had to do when we returned.
Ajitah deserved the truth.
“You’re a fool. You’ll lose him.”
“Maybe. But I can’t keep him on a lie.”
Garuda shook his head. “You’re something else, you know that?”
“So I’ve been told.” I stood and began to pace. “Now, I’m sick of being stuck in this bloody cell. How about we get the heck out of here?”
Garuda cocked his head. “What did you have in mind?”
I reached into my hidden trouser pocket and retrieved the laser cutter. “I’m sure this baby can slice through a metal lock.” Being in a hunger coma had really fried my brain. Thank goodness, I could finally think straight.
Garuda joined me at the door, and I set to work.
Ten minutes later, I finally admitted defeat. “What the fuck is this lock made of?”
“The laws of physics and the elemental properties are probably different here.”
I wanted out, dammit. I slammed my fist against the cell door. The lock clicked, and the whole thing swung inward. Garuda pulled me back just as two guards stepped into the cell.
“It is time for you to be judged.”
Staying in the cell suddenly didn’t seem so bad.
23
The cells had been underground, beneath the palace. Did all criminals end up in the palace dungeons, or was that privilege reserved for outsiders who killed snake guardians? I guessed the latter. We were led up a flight of stone steps, through a guarded arch, and into a courtyard enclosed by a tall iron fence topped with lethal spires. The metal was smothered in what looked like ivy. We marched across the red and gold earth, by several miniature trees and through a set of doors, where we were handed over to two new guards in full human form. They appeared pretty spiffy in their uniform of black and silver loose pants, silver torques, and slender, metallic headbands. Their wicked staffs looked like upgrades, though—thicker, with a nasty point at the top. All the better to prod us in the direction they wanted us to go.
My stomach quivered, not for myself but for Garuda. He was going to be tried. I was pretty sure that, if he’d wanted, he could have kicked their asses, but where the heck would he go? This place existed out of time. We had no choice but to endure whatever it was the naga decided to put us through.
A narrow corridor opened into a vast, sun-drenched chamber crafted from shimmering black marble. Strange carvings were etched into the walls—stories of their people . . . my people. The ceiling was a mass of writhing serpents, still and made of stone but eerily realistic. In the center of it all was the hugest fucking snake I’d ever seen. The guardian Garuda had slain seemed small in comparison. This serpent’s body wound round and round in a tight coil, and its head perched on a thick neck to peer down at us with ebony eyes.
“Vasuki, so nice to see you after all this time,” Garuda said.
The serpent hissed and began to shimmer and morph. It twisted, writhed, and shrank until we were staring at a slender, slightly graying man. With his bulk gone, the gathering behind him was suddenly visible—a low balcony of thirteen naga, all stern-faced and silent. Was that a flash of disconcertion in their eyes? A glimmer of fear? They were doing well at hiding it. But Vasuki’s gaze was on me. He appeared almost . . . weary.
“We have agreed that the hybrid had nothing to do with the guardian’s death. In fact, the final images collected from the guardian’s retinas show the hybrid’s pleading face and her tears of grief at her kindred’s demise.”
“Oh, for goodness’ sake, Vasuki,” one of the balcony naga said. “Must we go through this charade every time? Let us simply pass sentence and be done with it.”
Vasuki’s jaw tightened. He turned, and in one fluid motion morphed back into the terrifying serpent, hissing and snapping at the naga who’d in
terrupted him. His serpent voice bounced off the walls almost painfully. “Do not forget by whose grace you breathe, Harish. Interrupt me again and lose your head.”
The naga, Harish, held up his hands in supplication. “Your Majesty, forgive my errant tongue. I am forever, humbly, your servant. I wished only to expedite these proceedings.”
“We proceed at the pace I set. Is that clear?”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
Vasuki melted back into his human form, and two guards appeared as if out of thin air, their attention on Vasuki as they awaited instruction.
Vasuki sighed. “Take the hybrid to the gates, and send her back to her reality.”
What? “Wait. No. I’m not going anywhere. I came here for a reason.”
Vasuki locked his dark eyes on me. “I know you did, and I can’t help you. I can never help you.”
Never help me? The multi-verse theory . . . Did it mean I’d been here before? That he’d tried to assist other versions of me?
“What happened to the other me who came here for your aid?”
Vasuki averted his gaze. “That isn’t relevant to these proceedings. You have been cleared of charges. Please, Malina, just go home.”
So, I wasn’t the hybrid anymore. He knew my name. Of course he knew it. I’d been here before, or at least some version of me had, but what I needed to know now was what fate my predecessors had suffered.
“I’m not leaving. Not until I get some proper answers.”
“Trust me when I tell you that nothing constructive will come from your visit here. Now please leave.”
The naga guards took a step toward me.
“Don’t even try it.” I gave them the glare. Vasuki may have come across other versions of me before, but this was his first time tangling with me. Crossing my arms under my breasts, I held my ground. “I’m not leaving, not without a fight.”
He massaged his temples. “I fear I may be going insane, hoping for a different outcome to the same situation.”
Huh?
He pushed his shoulders back and focused his attention on Garuda, but addressed me. “You may remain and witness the sentencing, but if you attempt to interfere, you will face my wrath.”