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

by K. N. Banet

  “Yes, but if I said I left this here to give the last nagini a place to hide from poachers, you would be insulted I only think of you as the last breeding female of your kind.”

  He has a point.

  “Well, thanks. You hungry? I need a snack.”

  “Leith is already making something,” he said, still leaning on the doorway.

  “Why am I cornered here, then?” I gestured at him. He hadn’t moved. He was blocking the path, and he knew it. He knew that I knew it.

  “I wanted to make sure you knew what’s at stake with this. Kaliya, if this goes the wrong way, we could both lose our jobs.”

  “You can back out any time.” I didn’t much care about that. I was an Executioner because I needed more legal leeway to kill people, but being the last nagini, I had a large berth to do as I pleased, anyway. Losing my job was just losing an income and political power. I was still protected by several Laws that other supernatural species didn’t have the right to. It meant I couldn’t be an aggressor anymore, though. Any work I did to catch and punish the criminals I was after would be illegal. I would no longer be a sanctioned killer for the Tribunal. Dishing out justice would no longer be my right.

  “So can you,” he pointed out.

  “No, I can’t,” I retorted. “This is more than Sinclair. Hell, it might be more than Mygi.”

  That caught his attention, and his ethereal light blue eyes narrowed. His perfectly styled hair bled to its original color, red. He normally used a glamor to make it more natural—the red he had wasn’t natural at all. It was like someone had tried to dye his hair with red ink. His glamor normally only slipped when he was spooked or angry.

  “If you say this has anything to do with that fucking board of yours, so help me—”

  “I thought it might, but it’s not. That’s what got me dragged in. Some small connection I just had to check out. Then Sinclair showed up, and it’s all spiraled out of control. The problem is, I…I feel for the guy. His situation sucks, and if there’s anyone who knows how bad things can get in our world, it’s me and my kind.”

  “I see,” he whispered. “Well. At least I’m the nephew to a king. If I lose my job, I’ll have the resources to continue my lifestyle for my fiancée.”

  “Does she have money?” I asked. “Not normal money but money.”

  “No,” he said, looking away from me. “No, she doesn’t have old family money. Everything she has, she’s worked for.”

  “Oh, so she’s…”

  “Her title was bought and paid for, something my uncle hates, but it’s not his life.”

  “Your father would have loved it,” I said gently, seeing the pain in Cassius’ eyes right after I said the word ‘father.’

  “My father isn’t around, so his opinion doesn’t matter.” Cassius backed out of the door, freeing me from the little cage of a bedroom. “Let’s find you something to eat.”

  I felt bad. I knew better than to mention his father. I was there, along with every Executioner and Investigator, every guard, and every Tribunal member, the day it was announced by Cassius’ uncle that the Fae King had walked away from his family, his throne, and his spot on the Tribunal. Cassius was expected to rule, to lead, but he turned his back on the duties his father had unfairly and suddenly left for him. It led to Cassius’ uncle, a fae named Oisin, to take the position. It was still a fresh, open wound as well. Not even a century had passed, and no one knew where the previous Fae King had run off to.

  I wondered for a moment if Cassius ever tried to contact Oberon, his grandfather. If anyone could find the wayward one, it would be the Old Fae, the first King and his Queen.

  Not my business and he would kick me out for asking. I need his help, so I’ll put my curiosity in a box and pretend I wasn’t thinking about it.

  Walking into the kitchen together, Cassius took his seat at the breakfast counter. I checked the time on the fancy clock above the door and saw it was only noon.

  “What’s the plan?” he asked as Leith quietly put a plate in front of him. The butler placed a plate in front of me next. I started nibbling on the chips, considering Cassius’ question.

  “I need to get back to my house tonight. Before you say that’s a terrible idea, because I know it is, just know I have an Indian cobra under my care right now. I don’t have my cell phone or any of my things. I need to see the damage and if they’ve stolen anything.”

  “I can agree that it’s vital, even though it is a terrible idea,” Cassius conceded. “We can make the trip tonight, but I want to bring this Raphael along. I’m not leaving him alone with people in my care.”

  “Of course. We’re taking one of your rides, though. Did you see my poor Aston Martin?”

  “I saw. Do you need help replacing it? I’m certain the Tribunal will shell out to replace a cellphone.”

  “They’ll owe me two cars, too, once I finish my report and send in my expenses. I don’t need their help with that. I just want to be petty. Sinclair wouldn’t be a problem if they had let me kill him twenty-five years ago when I literally had him in my hands.”

  “Oh, joy. I have to be friends with the only Executioner who likes sticking the middle finger up to our bosses,” he mumbled, taking a bite of his sandwich.

  “Not the only one, just the best at it,” I retorted. Most of the Executioners had something wrong with them. The Tribunal was smart. Their Executioners were mean, deadly, and pissed off most of the time. Morally grey at the best of times unless being a good guy suited our self interests. I didn’t know a single Executioner who didn’t take the job for more than one reason. It allowed us to kill in a world where kill or be killed was the Law we lived by. Being sanctioned saved a lot of trouble.

  “Point made,” he said when his mouth wasn’t full. “Narumi is much more cunning and underhanded about it.”

  “Narumi is cold,” I said with a chuckle. “Damn kitsune. We were at the Jacky Leon trial together, you know. She pretended to be a guard to keep an eye on the werecat. The little fox was ready to stab that cat in the back at a moment’s notice.”

  “I heard. When do you want to leave for your home?”

  “The moment Raphael wakes up and eats. He’s a black hole, that one. Apparently, his abilities burn up a lot of calories, and he constantly needs to replenish them.”

  Cassius gave a very undignified grunt and continued to eat. I nibbled on the chips, knowing the sandwich was probably too much food. I got sluggish when I ate too much too often. The curse of my human-looking body also trying to be a snake.

  Not ten minutes later, Raphael wandered into the kitchen, wearing only a pair of sweatpants. Cassius jerked upright and stared at him. I knew Cassius well enough to know my once lover was surprised and maybe even a little insulted by Raphael. He turned slowly to me as Leith put two sandwiches and the entire bag of chips in front of the not-human. His eyebrows furrowed as he stared at me, his eyes telling me everything he wanted to say.

  “Do you think we can stop somewhere and get him more clothes?” I asked lightly. “We had to leave his place in a rush after he tried to shoot me, then the rest of his things were left in my driveway.”

  Cassius took a noticeably deep breath, stood up slowly, and grabbed my arm as he walked past. I let him pull me out of the kitchen, Raphael giving us a confused look.

  Once we were out of earshot, Cassius let me go.

  “You didn’t tell me…” He was glaring, but I hadn’t really figured out what his problem was yet. “He’s…”

  “Huge? Six and a half feet tall and all muscle? Not wearing nearly enough clothing as he should be? Yeah, that’s Raphael. Why don’t you go back in there and meet him?”

  “The scars?” Cassius asked softly.

  “He heals amazingly. The one around his wrist is where Mygi had cut his hand off then bandaged it back to him, and it healed back on by itself. The gunshots are from the several times Mygi had already tried to recapture him. They say he’s a danger to society? He’s been living
out there on his own for five years without any incident that clued the rest of us to his existence.”

  “He couldn’t wear a dirty shirt to cover himself up?” Cassius asked, exasperated. “I have traumatized employees.”

  “Sorry. I’m sure he’ll agree if you let him know.”

  I stepped around him to head back into the kitchen. Raphael was holding one of his sandwiches up but put it down the moment he saw Cassius hovering behind me.

  “Have I done something?” He jumped up from the stool, extending a hand toward us. I moved out of the way for Cassius to do the ‘man’ thing. “I should have introduced myself, but Leith put down food, and my mind went straight to that. I’m Raphael.”

  “Cassius,” my friend said softly. “I don’t want to give you a hard time, Raphael, but I want to bring something up. First, I needed to ask Kaliya some questions about you, so I knew if I was stepping on toes. All my staff here are victims of abusive employers and relationships. While I’m sure you mean nothing by it, I would prefer if you covered up, so none of them are…intimidated or scared by you.”

  “Yeah, I can do that. My bad.” I noticed the red flash in Raphael’s eyes but wasn’t sure what the catalyst was, Cassius or the idea the household staff were all traumatized people who Cassius provided a safe, relaxed workspace for. Raphael turned to Leith and frowned. “I hope I didn’t cause any trouble for you, Leith.”

  Leith waved a rag, dismissing the idea before leaving the room, probably to find Raphael a shirt that would fit. I knew Leith was strong enough, but Cassius wasn’t worried about Leith. He was worried about his cook and the maid, both of whom were much less fit for the public eye. Both of whom had once been in the care of men who looked like Raphael in a sense, big scarred men known for fights and being brutal and cruel. Raphael could trigger them, could very easily terrify them if he got pissed off. Thinking about it, I hadn’t even seen Annie-Lyn or Terry yet. He would have told them to let him meet Raphael before they had to.

  “Now, Kaliya would like to go check out her home during the day while it’s safe from Sinclair. I agree with her. Obviously, you both will use this home as the base of operations for your safety until we feel the situation is resolved.”

  Leith walked back in while he was talking and handed a black tank top to the giant. It was a little too small, but it would work. I tried not to stare at the broad planes of his chest in the incredibly tight tank top. He dwarfed Cassius, which was impressive. I never thought the six-foot-tall fae was short, but standing near Raphael, he was.

  “And I must agree with her, you can’t wear this all the time. I know where we can get clothing that will fit you before nightfall. Kaliya, are there any other stops you want to make?” Cassius turned back to me, crossing his arms, waiting on my answer.

  “The Market,” I answered. “If anything I need was stolen or destroyed at my place.”

  Cassius groaned.

  “What’s the market?” Raphael asked, looking between them.

  “The fae black market,” Cassius explained. “Kaliya, you know I can’t be caught there. You can get away with it, but…”

  “I’m not asking you to come in. You’ll stay with Raphael in the car. It’s just in case.”

  “Fine.” Cassius straightened his jacket. “I’m ready to leave when you are. We’ll get Raphael what he needs first, so he doesn’t stick out, then we’ll go to your home. If it’s needed, I’ll drop you off and wait near The Market.”

  “Thank you,” I said graciously.

  I left them in the kitchen to work things out so I could finish getting ready. I had to find some shoes.

  18

  Chapter Eighteen

  I groaned as Cassius stopped in front of probably my least favorite place in Phoenix. He didn’t say anything as he cut the engine, twisting to look at Raphael in the back seat.

  “This place is run by fae. They come from all over the world. They will do magic on you, so if you have a problem with that, say so now.”

  “Why will they do magic on me?” Raphael sounded concerned and confused. The concern, I understood. This was a terrible place.

  “They have a large variety of premade garments, but those garments need to be spelled to fit you perfectly. Ask Kaliya how good they are. The pants she’s wearing were done by them.”

  “Oh fuck,” I muttered. I turned and looked back at the massive man, somehow crammed into the backseat. “They’re fine. The magic is whatever, but they can be pushy about what looks good on you and shit. Don’t let them rope you into any crazy ass suits or anything. They’ll try. Get what you need to last a week and get out.”

  “And the magic doesn’t…track me or anything?”

  “No, it’s a one-and-done spell. It just ensures it always fits the intended wearer,” I explained. “You being the intended wearer. If you lend out a shirt you get from them, it’ll match your size at all times, not someone else’s. But they have to make a spell with you keyed into it.”

  Cassius nodded, then gave me a look as Raphael got out of the car.

  “He might want a suit, Kaliya.”

  “I don’t want him in a suit,” I said, annoyed. Gods, he would look fucking amazing in one. My fangs pulsed painfully at the idea. “And I was right. The last time I was here, about six years ago, they were trying to get me into a sari. Me. A sari.”

  “India is your native country, and I know for a fact you look stunning in one,” Cassius pointed out plainly as if he hadn’t just complimented me and said I was pretty in a dress.

  “I don’t like them.”

  “You don’t like anything,” he pointed out. “Ah, hold on.” He got out of the car and met the owner of the boutique at the door, nodding as he pointed at Raphael, standing just behind the owner. The owner nodded a lot, a smile growing. Her devious look toward me in the front seat of Cassius’ car scared me.

  When Cassius sat back down, he smiled evilly.

  “What did you do?” I demanded.

  “Nothing. I’m allowed to spend my money as I please.”

  “Oh, I fucking hate you,” I hissed across the car.

  “I know.” He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. “I asked them to get Raphael a suit. If he’s going to be in the supernatural world, he needs to be more presentable than…well, you.”

  “I’m completely presentable,” I snapped. “I know how to dress myself.”

  “And yet, all you own is leather pants and black tops,” he pointed out. “And let’s not talk about those steel toed, hideous combat boots you wear.”

  “You used to fuck me,” I reminded him. “So, something must be working.”

  “Tequila.”

  “Wow.” I slumped in my seat. Deciding the topic needed to change, I watched the dark windows of the boutique and thought of the man we had just sent inside. “What do you think of Raphael so far?”

  “He hasn’t spoken much, but he seems like a good man. I could feel how real his apology was in my kitchen. He felt bad.”

  “His eyes, did you catch those?”

  “It was hard to miss when I was staring right at them,” he said with a touch of annoyance. “It wasn’t unexpected; you already warned me about some things, Kaliya.”

  “Yeah…”

  “You seem intrigued. I don’t think I’ve ever heard you talk so much about anyone unless you were planning to kill them,” he pointed out, leaning on his door. “Are you?”

  “Am I what?”

  “Planning on killing him,” Cassius asked as if it was an everyday question that bore no more thought than asking if someone was enjoying the weather or if they had gone grocery shopping recently.

  I sputtered before I was able to answer. “No! If anything, Raphael can’t die,” I said passionately. “You know, I don’t try to kill everyone, Cassius. If that were the case, you would have been dead years ago.”

  “I’m just saying, I normally don’t see you so curious about someone.”

  “He…he doesn’t talk much. We
’ve trained a bit, but mostly, he asks questions and grieves over his own shit. He’s not secretive per se, but he’s not…he’s not chatty. He’s like a weird puzzle box of information he probably doesn’t even find important. I don’t know how to crack him. I just keep answering all his questions, trying to catch him up because he is supernatural, and he knows nothing.”

  “Do you think he might be mythical?” Cassius asked softly.

  “I…I don’t know.” Mythical was a special designation for certain supernatural species. Werecats and werewolves were cursed. Vampires were just supernatural. Fae were mythical, so were nagas. The difference was in the nuance. Fae were once regarded as gods, but only certain fae, so only certain fae were considered mythical. Nagas were born of the gods and, therefore, mythical. Werewolves and werecats were humans under a very old, very powerful curse, but apart from that, they were just human. Whatever cursed them was probably mythical. Vampires were once human but were now undead and needed to feed on the power of a human’s life force. Just supernatural by their official designation.

  Raphael was still human, and that was the hang up I kept getting stuck on. He smelled human, he looked human, he was raised human. No one introduced him into the supernatural world, and no one really knew what he was.

  “I checked everything,” he explained. “There’s nothing else like him out there, not by any knowledge the Tribunal has, and they have species in the database we don’t govern.”

  “Yeah, I was stumped, trying to find something like him,” I said, crossing my arms. “See what I mean, though? He’s…like nothing I’ve ever come across. He’s in a situation we’ve never seen before.” And he’s got to stay alive because he might be the only person I’ll ever be able to breed with. I don’t want kids, but I’m not stupid enough to let him die either.

  My fangs pulsed suddenly. It was like a bug bite. If I didn’t think about it, I could manage. The moment I considered what he really was or thought about how attractive he was, the ache began, unrelenting and aggravating.