by T. G. Ayer
Worst stake-out ever.
Vee shifted again but the action caused Nivaan’s lips to bump against her cheekbone. He stiffened and Vee let out a premature sigh of relief.
But instead of moving away he drew closer, his mouth hovered above her skin, tracing a hot path from her temple to her neck.
This time the kiss was searing and passionate and overpoweringly hot. Vee pulled away, and sucked in a breath. “Now I’m sure all you want it to divert my attention from the case.”
“Don’t matter. It’s all being recorded.” Another kiss, deeper this time.
Vee let out a groan. “This has to stop. I don’t have the time, or the headspace for this.”
Nivaan sighed and moved away. Vee looked ups and found herself relieved that he didn’t appear discouraged.
He smiled. “To be continued.”
Instead of answering she gave him a dark glare and scrambled to her knees. “Either they’re speaking in code or they’re just two guys talking about mundane study. I’ll get Brent to listen and decode.”
Nivaan moved to a crouch and followed as Vee led the way down the side of the house. They paused at the corner with the doc scanning the front yard and the road with his night vision.
A few seconds later, he gave her a nod and they hurried away from the house and down the street to their cars.
Vee had to admit to being disappointed. She’d wanted to hear something incriminating. Yes, she’d managed to put a recording device in place. Hopefully they’d get something they could use.
But more than that, Vee was disappointed in herself. Her self-control seemed shot to hell when in the doctor’s presence.
And he’d referred to her as human. What would her think when he found to she was far from human with all her strange powers? And would being a descendent—however distant—of an apsara make her more, or less, attractive to him?
A mahabidala and an apsara?
Stranger things have happened.
Chapter 26
Much to Syama’s disappointment, everyone went their separate ways.
Nivaan had seemed distracted and had barely given her a nod before driving off with Krish.
Syama wriggled in her seat, a little uncomfortable with how much she’d liked the shifter-boy.
She had no problem with him being mahabidala, and it seemed he had no issue with her own species either. Not as if they were at the point of wondering what kind of babies they’d make.
Vee was a little too silent.
Syama glanced over at her, giving her an expectant look. Though the apsara wasn’t even looking at Syama, she sighed. “I’m putting Prof Menon on my suspect list.”
“What did he do to deserve that?” asked Syama. The apsara had a way of surprising Syama with her deductions. One of the reasons she didn’t mind being forced to partner with the girl.
“His body language, for one. And then there was the slip up.”
“What slip up?”
“Before we left, he mentioned two killings in two days.”
Syama’s eyebrows lifted. “Can I assume you would not be so stupid as to drop that bit of crucial information to a potential suspect?”
Vee’s lips twisted. “You may assume so,” she shook her head, “I bugged the study and I’m hoping we get something. I didn’t hear much while we were there, but I’ve got the device set to transmit.”
Vee’s body had begun to give off a low buzzing, a hint of pheromones that made Syama grin. Syama grunted. “What are you leaving out?”
Vee gave her a suspicious glance, then returned her attention to the road. “I got a message from Brent. The coordinates for the phone were irrelevant because I was at the location.”
“What? The phone was at the profs house?”
Vee nodded and Syama watched the various emotions cross her face. The hellhound also scented frustration, impatience, a touch of fear, and heat.
All emotions she ignore. Instead she glared at Vee. “You should have told me. I could have gone in and looked over the place. You know I could have found the phone.”
Vee shook her head. “I thought about it but I figured now that we have a tracker on the phone, maybe we could keep an eye on it in case they decide to move it. Moving it will confirm they have something to hide, and who knows where they may take it. We may just get a better lead from it.”
Though still disappointed, Syama had to admit the apsara made sense. The girl never failed to surprise Syama with her instinct.
Then Vee sighed, the sound soul deep.
“What?” Syama glanced at her.
“I’m just thinking about Nivaan.” There was that spike of pheromones again.
Uh-oh.
“And?” Syama didn’t want to push her. Despite only being with Vee for a few weeks, Syama had managed to learn how the apsara’s mind worked. She never liked being pressed for info, and would easily shut you out if you didn’t take the hint. She’d open up if, and when, she was ready.
Vee shook her head. “I’m wondering if Nivaan’s been playing me all along?”
“Why would you think that?”
Vee offered a long shrug that included both shoulders, and a deep sigh.
More uh-oh.
Syama suppressed an eye roll. “What else could you expect? You went to the doctor on the word of a sadistic fallen goddess, and you then trusted him to take you to his contact. His contact.” Syama knew she was playing devil’s advocate. She quite liked the doc, and didn’t think he was any threat, but Vee needed to be at the top of her game. Being sidetracked, no matter how hot the guy was, wouldn’t help her.
Vee cleared her throat. “Look, we have no idea if the doctor is connected to the murders. He’s got a good alibi. He’s been helpful. He’s probably taken us right to a good solid lead—considering the location of the victim’s phone.” Vee sighed. “I just wonder if Cressida knew this all along. Is the goddess all-seeing, or am I just too paranoid?”
Syama pursed her lips. “Enough is happening to justify that paranoia, you know.”
“Yeah. I know. I’m just frustrated that things are taking so long to move. Only a few hours to go now. I feel like there’s too many things to think about when Ma’s life is the most important.”
Syama nodded. “But I know you, Vee. Well enough to know that despite your personal situation, your sacrifice is that you will do whatever it takes to help the innocent.”
Vee glanced at Syama, her expression contemplative. And Syama knew that in the next few hours before Vee went to get her grandmother, she’d either pace a hole in the carpet of her living room, or do something constructive with her time.
Syama would put her money on constructive.
Chapter 27
Returning from the interview with the professor had left Vee with more questions than answers. Images of the dead jogger filled her mind, along with the smiles of a scorpion goddess and the warm breath of a sexy lion-shifter.
She had to keep her mind on track, and fought to push Nivaan out of her thoughts. She still had a few hours left before she had to meet her grandmother’s kidnapper, and Vee was somewhere between impatient and terrified.
What if something went wrong?
All she could think about was to research, prepare herself.
After a quick early dinner of reheated tender lamb curry and fluffy spiced rice, Vee headed to the gym, a space her dad had built over the garage before he’d died. He’d begun to train Vee in Kalaripayattu, an ancient Indian martial art.
Her mother, and then later, her grandmother had continued the training, both having learned the art from a young age. The ancient fighting technique had been handed down from generation to generation and as far as Vee knew there were only a handful of practitioners worldwide.
Her mother and grandmother had drilled it into her brain that they must have both their wit and their muscle about them at all times. Hence the dedicated study and the devoted physical training.
She walked into the gym, ignoring h
er reflection in the mirrored walls. She’d hydrated well, and dressed in yoga pants and a cropped tank, ready for the intensity of the training session.
From the far wall, she grabbed a pair of swords, blades flat, wide and deadly sharp. She settled into a soft-knee stance and began the sequence, the fluid movements somewhere between tai chi and capoeira—only with weapons.
Soon, Vee’s skin was covered in a sheen of perspiration, her muscles bulging, taut and burning from the exercise. After forty minutes she relaxed and breathed through the last of the muscle burn, settling into stretches to help cool her limbs down.
She was wiping her forehead with a towel when her mother walked into the room, her entrance reflected in the mirrored walls.
“I thought you’d be here,” Devi said as she strolled past the weapon’s wall, running her finger along the edge of a scimitar. She looked exceptionally out of place in her heavy tweed skirt-suit, her black hair in a bun at the back of her neck. Today she carried her larger purse, her fingers playing with links of the metallic gold chain.
Vee wasn’t sure what to say in response to her mother’s obvious distress. Instead she watched Devi pace for a few seconds before clearing her throat. “Are you okay?” she asked. Vee wasn’t immune to the fact that her mother would be in a hell of her own with Ma’s abduction.
Devi nodded, the movement ragged, ill-formed, almost hesitant, as if she lied with every movement. “I’ll be fine. I’m just not happy with your decision to go without me.”
Vee’s spine tensed and from the smile on her mother’s lips Vee knew Devi had seen it.
With a shake of her head, equally hesitant, Devi said, “Don’t worry. I’m a big girl. I’ll live.” She took a deep breath. “I just came to tell you that just because you’re going without me, it doesn’t mean you’re going in alone.”
Vee raised an eyebrow and tossed her towel onto the bench behind her, watching as her mother slipped her hand into her purse and retrieved two small flat black cases. She handed them to Vee who took the pair and flipped the first one open.
Inside were two small round devices, each attached to an earring stem—a microphone that fitted behind the ear and resembled an earring so closely that few people would ever think to suspect it was anything other than simple jewelry.
And a matched pair at that.
“Both are functional, so you have a failsafe just in case. You can hear us, and the jewel hides a powerful microphone.”
Vee nodded, unsure whether she liked the idea of her mother being on the other end of an op. She forced the thought aside and opened the second box.
A glass case containing two contact lenses sat nestled in a depression. Alongside was a small bottle of contact lens solution.
Vee raised an eyebrow and glanced up at her mother as she closed the box and headed for the door to the gym. “Camera?” She glanced over her shoulder for a response.
Devi nodded and followed, giving the weapons a longing gaze. “Upgraded.”
That brought Vee’s head up. “Ward detection?”
As they walked down the passage and into the house, Devi’s mouth curved in a smile akin to pride. “And magic. You’re fine as you won’t need the aura detection so I canceled that feature for this model. We can’t see what your eyes see, only what the camera picks up. This will help us get a different idea of possible dangers.” Vee wanted to tell her that she should have upgraded for portal detection, but she bit her tongue.
When they walking into the kitchen they found Syama wiping dishes. Vee frowned. The girl hated any form of household work.
Guess Ma’s disappearance had shaken the hellhound up too.
Eager to get things moving, Vee checked her watch. One hour to go. She tapped the two boxes on her palm, earning a warning glare from her mother. “I’ll get ready,” she stopped tapping, “but I’m not going unarmed.”
“And if they search you?” Devi’s brow furrowed, her eyes darkening.
“That’s why I have her,” Vee popped a thumb in Syama’s direction, “Syama be with me the entire time and she won’t be detected.”
Syama groaned as she stowed the last plate into the cupboard and shut the door. “Why can’t I come in human form?”
Vee gave Syama a warning glare. “Let’s get going.” Then she turned to her mother, “How long until the camera is online?”
“As soon as you’re ready just send me a text and we’ll start the feed. The camera will record everything, so even if you are distracted, the inbuilt screen will warn you of danger.”
Vee nodded and hesitated. In a normal family this would be the part where the mother and daughter hugged, and the mother wished her well and told her to take care of herself.
But Devi watched silently, her expression inscrutable, keeping her emotions to herself, while Vee mirrored her mother and shifted from one foot to the other before turning on her heel and heading upstairs for a quick shower.
God only knows why she cared about being clean when she was about to face a freaking demon. But it was inbuilt, a way of preparing herself, a physical preparation that came with a mental one. Something about the water was intensely calming, rejuvenating.
And knowing what she was facing, she needed all the calm she could get.
Ten minutes later she was hurrying past the now empty kitchen. Syama got to her feet. She’d been nursing a glass of wine, waste of time considering the hellhound was incapable of getting drunk.
With a rueful glance at the half glass of pinot noir, Syama followed, the hard thud of her feet on the floor telling Vee that the hellhound wasn’t happy with guard-dog duty.
At the bottom of the stairs, Vee turned left, tapped a code into a small glowing panel and waited as the door swished open. This room, though identical to the one on the opposite side of the hallway, was filled with weapons. Daggers, swords, pistols, handguns, and grenades all lined the walls.
A low counter ran along the bottom half of the wall, a sparkling white in glaring contrast to the black and metallic weaponry. The drawers below the counter were filled with a wide variety of equipment for use on missions, from emergency flares to earpieces to signal jammers to night-vision goggles.
Between Mac and his knives, Vee and her weapons and Devi with her team of intelligence people, the room under the house was an arsenal to die for.
Literally.
There was enough in that small space firepower to blow up everything within a mile radius. Hence the lead-lined, double-walled protected bunker.
“What can you take that they won’t remove if they search you?” asked Syama, her voice breaking into Vee’s reverie.
Vee sighed and pulled open a drawer, removing a tube of lipstick, a pen and belt. The lipstick was a liquid explosive—when smeared onto any solid object it took thirty seconds to explode and destroy.
The pen held tiny explosive bullets that resulted in almost the same amount of destruction as normal ammo.
Both explosive substance and bullets were enhanced with magical wards and spells to ensure that they would also work on a non-humans, regardless of species.
The belt with its dull silver buckle and aged leather gave the appearance of normality when in fact it contained metal chains fueled with magical power enough to electrocute any supernatural into submission.
Humans though, however powerful, were known to die from a single blast of the belt’s power so Vee tended to keep that particular weapon for the worst of circumstances.
Vee, slid the belt around her waist and pocketed the pen and the lipstick. She headed to a second drawer and grabbed a box of bullets. The closed box emanated both a low hum of power and an orange gleam along the edges of the lid.
Opening it, Vee grabbed her Glock from her hip—glad she never went anywhere without it—pressed the release and caught the magazine as is slid free. She began to fill the magazine with florescent orange bullets, each as long as a normal bullet but only a quarter the width. The internal structure of the barrel and firing mechanisms h
ad been modified to hold the much narrower bullets and was able to stock up to fifty rounds.
Vee loaded it to the max, slid the magazine into the hand grip and waited for the click, then secured the weapon into its holster. She repeated the process with a four more Glocks, handing one to Syama and sliding one into each of her boots. For the last one she grabbed a thigh-holster, buckled it on, and housed the weapon.
When she faced Syama, the girl had also found a holster and stowed her weapon. “Not sure why you’re bothering to give me a weapon. Four paws don’t usually allow for the manipulation of triggers you know.” Syama’s mouth was turned down at the sides and Vee had to force herself to hide a smile.
She shook her head. “That’s in case the shit hits the fan and you have to change. You’ll know when you need to. It’ll be somewhere after the shit hits the fan and a little before death.”
Syama snorted, giving Vee a mildly angry glare. Sometimes it felt as if the girl was perpetually angry, a point which Vee planned on questioning some time soon.
Syama had appeared on her doorstep on rainy morning a month ago, an angry, upset young girl who’d thrown a gold-handled scroll at Vee and stalked into the living room.
The girl had paced the floor while Vee unrolled the scroll, impressed at the intricate carvings on the handles. The writing, Sanskrit written in gold, had both annoyed and uplifted Vee.
The good thing was she’d been granted a boon from the Dharma, God of Justice, and Ruler of the Underworld—the services of a hellhound guard whose talents spanned both her four- and two-legged forms.
The bad thing was said hellhound guard didn't want to be here.
Her attitude had been one of I’m-forced-to-be-here-and-it-doesn’t-mean-I-have-to-like-it. Vee had tolerated it so far, but Syama seemed to have calmed down after Vee had agreed to take her along in human form every so often.
But that could only happen under certain circumstances, which so far had been few and far between.
To Syama’s dislike and Vee’s detriment.