by Sonia Singh
Okay, the Kali-hater was worse.
But Nadia was still a bitch.
Chapter 24
BY THE NEXT MORNING I was as fresh as a woman in a feminine hygiene commercial.
The night before, Ram urged me to go home and rest. We would meet for lunch at one as planned. He was quite certain I would not be attacked again. I wasn’t so sure, but the comforting lights of the Brinks Alarm System eventually soothed me to sleep. By the time I came downstairs searching for something to eat, it was almost eleven.
My mom was sitting at the counter having a cup of tea. God forbid a tea bag should ever enter the house. The only loose tea permitted was a Golden Orange Pekoe Darjeeling from India, although I knew for a fact she mixed it with Lipton Green Label for body.
I began rummaging through the fridge, and leaned forward to grab a box of mini chocolate donuts.
“Maya, we never finished our discussion from last night. You’ve been acting very odd lately, and I don’t like it.”
I grabbed the donuts and straightened too soon, my head slamming into the top of the fridge.
Luckily I was a divinely fast healer.
My mom’s face wore its familiar pinched expression. “You’re never home, and you never spend any time with Tahir.”
Struggling to suppress a groan, I joined her at the table and shoved a donut in my mouth. Politeness dictated I not speak while chewing, and I used the time to think. How dumb was I to think my abrupt disappearance from the airport, as well as my abrupt disappearance from the restaurant yesterday, would be forgotten? My abrupt disappearance from the party last night—certain to come up—was something I was not ready to tackle.
Swallowing pure chocolate goodness, I called up the energy and leveled the Goddess Gaze at my mom. “You will relax. You will not fret over my unmarried status. Your qualms concerning your lack of grandchildren will disappear. From now on your biggest worry will be whether or not the Anna Nicole show is around for another season.”
“What are you talking about? Who is this Anna person?” My mom’s face went from pinched to puzzled.
Damn, it didn’t work!
What the hell was the point of being a goddess if I couldn’t get my own mother to do what I wanted?
I looked away and focused the Goddess Gaze on the package of donuts.
“Did you know Tahir is spending the day with Nadia instead of you?”
“Nadia? How did that happen?”
Her face softened. Obviously she mistook my surprise for jealousy. “Nadia called and spoke with Tahir. They’re going apartment hunting in LA. Apparently she knows a broker.”
“Isn’t it a little soon for apartment hunting? He just arrived.”
“Metro Bank wants him to start ASAP. Their headquarters are on Wilshire, so Tahir needs a place in West LA.”
LA…Compton…Camino Real…
“Where’s today’s paper?” I demanded.
“Right in front of you,” she said calmly, sipping her tea.
“Oh.” I grabbed the Orange County edition of the LA Times. The article jumped out at me from the bottom corner of the front page. I began skimming. Gwen Danner, yada, yada, yada, prominent socialite, blah, blah, blah, murderous rampage, yak, yak, yak.
Then—
According to Camino Real guard, Ken Burke, a mysterious young woman entered and exited the premises. The description of the woman matched that given by club members as the one who dis armed Gwen Danner. Burke was unable to give a description of the car, except to say that it had nice fenders. Police are seeking the woman for questioning.
I knew Burke had fancied my fenders.
But why had the mind control worked on Burke and not on Gwen or my mother? Ram had some explaining to do. Still, I was thankful. Getting mixed up with the police was not a good idea. Newport Beach was not Gotham, and I was not on a one-on-one basis with the commissioner.
I shoved the chair back.
My mom narrowed her eyes at me over the rim of the teacup. “Where are you going?”
“Errands,” I said vaguely.
Tahir and Nadia.
Fervent Kali-haters.
Stupid. Unreliable. Goddess powers.
The day was seriously sucking.
Chapter 25
RAM WAS CARRYING a long, slim package wrapped in brown paper, which he placed on the backseat, and refused to comment on.
I took him to the California Pizza Kitchen since they offered a truly excellent vegetarian pizza. My personal favorite was the barbecue chicken. Ram nearly had a very unspiritual fit when he found CPK only served Pepsi. Thankfully the food calmed him down.
Afterward I drove to the same stretch of beach in Corona del Mar. Ram said we needed to be in an isolated setting.
It was a cold January day, which meant I had to wear a thin sweater over my shirt, and jeans instead of shorts. A true Southern Californian, I deeply resented it.
Ram was dressed the same. I wondered whether he had woolen robes dyed orange for when it was chilly. Then again, cold in Calcutta was a sweltering eighty degrees.
I watched as he ran toward the water, radiating delight. In a moment we’d be having a serious discussion about the unending battle between good and evil. My mentor was an interesting mix of childlike enthusiasm and innate wisdom. Maybe the two went hand in hand?
Wait…mentor?
I sat down on one of the rocks. Ram was scouring the beach for shells. I’d definitely grown dependent on the man, not a wise move considering he only had a six-month visa.
Shells gathered in the folds of his robes, he came over to sit by me. “Beautiful, no?”
I picked up a black mollusk shell inlaid with shiny translucent material. “They’ll make a nice souvenir.”
“No,” Ram said. “I will return them to their rightful place. Away from the ocean they will only dry and lose their luster.” We sat there quietly for a few moments. “You are troubled.”
“Yeah, well, discovering some nut job’s out there trying to kill you will do that.”
Ram nodded his head. “Yes, that is a problem. However I think something else is weighing on your mind.”
Ram was far too shrewd, and I looked away. What was it Nadia had said to Tahir last night? Maya’s not close to anyone.
I was tempted to put my head on Ram’s shoulder and spill my guts, starting with my childhood.
Come on, Maya.
First of all, Ram’s shoulder looked pretty bony, and I’d probably end up with a crick in my neck. Secondly, when did I ever give a damn what anyone thought?
That little voice inside me was trying to say something, but I pushed her back into the hole and added a shovel or two of extra dirt for good measure.
Besides, this wasn’t the time for psychoanalysis, my life sort of hung in the balance. Oh yeah, and the future of the planet, too.
“You weren’t surprised to find out someone was trying to kill me. Why?” I said.
“In Hinduism we believe that for everything there is an equal opposite. You are the personification of good, so it stands to reason you will be confronted by the personification of evil.”
“That’s dumb.”
Ram rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “No coin can exist with just one side. The shade cannot exist without the sun.”
“But—”
“You like the shade, do you not?” Ram interrupted.
“Of course.”
“Exactly.” He smiled smugly. “We enjoy the shade, yet continually complain about the sun. Accepting both is the secret to true happiness.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Sort of like accepting Pepsi when Coke isn’t on the menu?”
Ram frowned. “That is quite different.”
“How?”
His frown deepened. “We are wasting time. We must proceed to the next lesson. Do you recall the story of Kali’s creation?”
“I didn’t get that far.”
“Before the dawn of man, a massive war between the divine and antidivine forces eru
pted. On the divine side were Shiva, Vishnu, and Brahma—the holy Hindu trinity. On the antidivine side were Raktabija and his band of fellow demons.
“Now try as they might, the holy trinity could not defeat Raktabija. For as soon as one drop of his blood hit the ground, another demon sprang from the spot. Each new demon also had the power to generate more demons from its own blood. Raktabija seemed invincible.”
“Speaking of Hindu gods,” I mused, “aren’t there any human incarnates of Shiva or Vishnu? What about Zeus or Thor? I was thinking we could all go to that new martini bar in Pasadena one night.”
Ram cleared his throat. “Shiva, Vishnu, and Brahma decided to combine their powers. The three shot forth piercing beams of light, and at the point of contact, the form of a woman took shape. Forged of light, she was known as the shining one. The goddess was born.”
“Typical men,” I scoffed. “Sending in a woman to clean up their mess. So then what happened?”
“Kali began by grabbing each demon and devouring it on sight. Not a drop of blood spilled, not an ounce of flesh spared. It was a brilliant plan, she eliminated every demon save Raktabija.”
I rubbed my stomach. “Was Kali fat?”
Ram ignored the question. “The goddess and the Demon King began circling each other. Raktabija had a mighty magical mace that emitted fiery sparks as he swung it about, but Kali had no weapons.”
“Right, she just ate her way to the top.”
Ram removed his glasses and began polishing the lenses with the end of his orange robe. “No, she used her powers to manifest a magnificent ruby-encrusted sword. Raising it high above her head, she released a blood-curdling cry and rushed at the demon.”
“A ruby-encrusted sword, huh? Not too shabby. I think I have just the shoes to go with that.”
“The battle between the two waged on, but in the end, with a massive strike of her sword, Kali decapitated Raktabija. Thereby releasing his soul from its evil-natured body and mind.”
“Great story, Ram, but there’s only one problem.”
“Yes?”
“I don’t have a sword like that. Where could I get one?”
“You do not get one. Now we come to the next lesson.”
“Which is?”
Ram hopped off the rock. “You learn how to use this.” He picked up the mysterious package he’d carried to the sand, and handed it to me.
I tore away the brown wrapper and gasped. The rubies on the handle gleamed. The shining steel blade was thirty-six inches long.
Kali’s sword.
I let out a slow whistle. “Hot damn!”
Chapter 26
“THIS MUST HAVE BEEN a bitch to get through customs.” I hefted the sword, letting the remains of the wrapper float down to the sand. “Have the priests of your temple kept watch on this for thousands of years?” My eyes widened. “Like the Lady of the Lake did for Excalibur?”
“What nonsense,” Ram scoffed. “The blade was manufactured in Taiwan. The rubies are Burmese. The handle is of my own design,” he added proudly. “A swordsmith in Bowbazaar did the assembling.” He patted the sides of his robe. “I have the bill here somewhere. If you can just repay…”
Tuning him out, I raised the sword above my head and brought it down in a slow, measured sweep. I’d never held anything in my hand that felt more natural.
Despite what an ex-boyfriend had to say.
“This is so fab, Ram! I feel like Duncan in Highlander.”
“You will practice as I meditate,” he said.
“Wait.” I lowered the sword to my side and squared off with him across the sand. “Two things. First, why doesn’t my Goddess Gaze work on everyone, and, two, why do I have to keep calling the Goddess Within? Why can’t I just stay in that state?”
“You tell me,” Ram said.
“You’re the expert.”
“And you are the goddess,” he countered. “Only what you choose to happen—”
“Yeah, yeah, happens, I know.”
“You do not. If you truly understood, there would be none of these questions. You believe your powers are temporary; therefore, they are. The essence of strength is belief.”
“What if I believe you should bow to me?”
“Do you truly believe I should?”
“No. I’m a Democrat.” I kicked at the sand. I was seriously gagging over all this metaphysical stuff. “None of it makes any sense. I mean technically, since I’m a god, shouldn’t I be all-powerful? Omniscient, omnipotent, and all the crap in between?”
“Once you fully accept your dharma, everything will make sense, there will be no more questions.”
“You know, Ram,” I said with a peevish look, “some people say life’s a journey. You can’t know everything.”
He waved his hand. “Buffalo dung. Life is a journey, but all we need to know is inside of us. Just believe. Now, call the Goddess Within.”
I did. Lightning instantly slashed across the sky.
Ram looked at me, impressed. “Very good. The sword you hold in your hands is a powerful weapon, blessed by the priests of my temple. It will serve you well.”
“You guys didn’t happen to bless any assault weapons or grenades did you? ’Cause those would definitely come in handy.”
“You must keep practicing. If you are destroyed, all hope for the world will be lost.” He stretched. “In the meantime I will meditate and enjoy this most beautiful ocean.” He went back to the rock, took off his wooden sandals, and seated himself in the classic yogic position, eyes closed.
Thirty minutes had passed, and Ram was still deep in a meditative trance.
There was definitely something about the sword. Just holding it made my blood quicken.
I could do amazing things with this sword.
I knew I could.
Socialites could keep their machine guns.
However, I was kind of getting bored with the practicing. I had thrust, parried, and swung to the best of my ability. It was actually a pretty good workout, better than Pilates. The goddess workout…hmm maybe I could put out my own exercise video like Jane Fonda? Just in case my video game idea didn’t take off.
Ram’s eyes were open. He was watching me.
I swung the sword around me in a neat semicircle. Yeah, I was showing off, but I felt six feet tall with the thing in my hand.
“Pretty awesome huh?” I grinned. Ram smiled. “Did you have a nice nap?”
“I did not sleep. I was meditating. But yes, I am refreshed.”
“So with this sword, am I all-powerful or what?” I asked.
“That is up to you.”
“Right.” I still thought Ram’s theory was wrong.
“We must leave.”
“Do you sense something?” I looked around. I didn’t feel any malevolence.
“My bowels have fully digested the food,” he said with dignity.
“Oh.” I put my arm around Ram as we walked back to the car. Suddenly I wanted to do something nice for him. “How about we pick up a case of Classic Coke on the way to Sanjay’s?”
His face broke out in a huge smile. “Just the thing I was meditating on.”
Chapter 27
ACCORDING TO RAM I didn’t have to wait for the Ugh of malevolence to hit.
I could go out looking for it.
He explained this to me as I hefted the carton of Coke all the way up the stairs to Sanjay’s apartment. When I asked Ram for help, he pleaded sitar elbow.
Humble servant my ass.
Back in Newport, no one was home—a good thing since the sword would be rather hard to explain, and I didn’t want to leave it in the car. My plan was to shower, change, and go back out.
Afterward, dressed in a white silk robe, I threw open the doors of my mirrored, walk-in closet, and with one hand on my chin, the other on my hip, I pondered the eternal existentialist question.
What does a goddess wear to kick ass?
In Style magazine had yet to cover the issue, so it was all
up to me. Black seemed a safe bet. I pulled out a black zip-up turtleneck by Guess, my favorite Seven jeans, and black Sergio Rossi slingbacks. Sure, running shoes or Doc Martens would be more appropriate for fighting, but not with these jeans.
I tied my hair back in a bouncy ponytail, added a dusting of Studio Fix powder and some lip gloss, and I was ready. I was going to prove that style and substance overcame malevolence and immorality any day.
I was about to put the divine in divining rod.
When I came downstairs I was greeted by the smell of frying onions and garlic.
Mom was home.
I walked into the kitchen to deliver my excuse for the night, but the one busy at the stove wasn’t my mom. It was Tahir.
He nodded to the two glasses of red wine on the side table. “Take your pick.”
Hmm.
Malevolence was out there, needing to be dealt with.
In front of me was red wine.
A girl needed sustenance.
I took a long, slow sip. “I’m totally loving this Shiraz. Where’d Mom and Dad go?”
“That’s obviously Pinot Noir, not Shiraz. We’re meeting them at the Kathak show at eight.”
“Kathak? They know that stuff bores me to tears. Why’d they buy me a ticket?”
“How can you hate Kathak? The dancers train for decades just to pull off such intricate footwork. It was considered choice entertainment in the court of Mughal emperors.”
I responded wittily by sticking my finger down my throat like I was gagging. “So why didn’t you go with them? Oh wait—” I batted my eyelashes teasingly. “You wanted to wait for me.”
Tahir snorted. “Hardly. I was expecting an important fax; otherwise, I would have joined your parents and their friends for dinner before the show.”
I moved closer and peered over his shoulder. “Speaking of dinner, what are you making?”
“Roghan Josh. Lamb curry with potatoes and turnips.”
“I know what it is.” Honestly, why were people always explaining elementary Indian cultural facts to me?
I was distracted from my irritation by the sight of Tahir’s broad, leanly muscled shoulder. No boniness there. I could lean my head for hours and my neck would be fine.