The Apsara Chronicles Boxed Set

by T. G. Ayer

  Vee leaned against the car and slipped into her aura-scanning mode, studying the roadside up and down until she tracked everyone’s movements back to after the jogger had been killed. The vagrant hadn’t come this way, and had likely taken a path within the forest beyond the ditch.

  The motorist’s movements tracked back to his car where he’d made a call to 911, paced the ground, and then opened his car door. He’d remained in the seat until the cops had arrived.

  Vee moved further back to follow the killer and his companion out of the forest, suppressing a shiver—the idea of crossing over aura imprints felt a little like what Vee imagined walking through a ghost would be.

  The killers emerged from the tree-line, checked the road as if expecting someone, then moved back within the shadows of the overhanging branches. Vee pushed away from the car and got to her feet. She followed the residual auras to the spot where the pair had stood and waited.

  Then the auras, one bronze, the other a gray-blue, wavered.

  Vee sucked in a shocked breath as they disappeared into thin air.

  Chapter 21

  Vee drove back to the city, her mind buzzing.

  “You know you shouldn’t really be surprised that happened.”

  Syama, the voice of reason.

  Vee snorted. “Pray tell why?”

  Syama shrugged. “Because this is just escalating to a whole new level. We’ve never seen anything like that before. Not from criminals.”

  Vee raised her eyebrows. “We?” Vee waved her finger between her chest and Syama’s. “We haven’t been a we for more than a month.”

  “Which is relevant how?” asked Syama, her eyes glittering.

  Vee let out an irritated huff. “You don’t even want to be here.”

  “Beside the point.” When Vee gave her a dirty look, Syama smirked. “May as well make the best of a bad situation.”

  “Where did you learn that? Boarding school?”

  Syama tossed her hair over her shoulder. “I’ll have you know, Mrs. Kumar was the best principal a girl like me could ask for.”

  Vee refrained from rolling her eyes. Although she wasn’t entirely sure she believed the girl’s claims about boarding school—since she wasn’t exactly sure what the multiple levels of hell really were like—she didn’t have time to think about it.

  She’d leave it for a later time.

  For now, she had a stop to make. One that was going to set Syama on edge more than she already was.

  As Vee took a left on the highway to the center of the city, Syama perked up. “Not going home, are we?” She peered out of the window, watching the road. When Vee didn’t reply she glanced over and glared at her. “It better not be somewhere that I have to go in hellhound form.”

  Vee shook her head sadly. “I’m not sure how you can dislike being in your natural form.”

  “It’s not my natural form,” Syama snapped. “Both human and hellhound are my natural forms. But I prefer human because I’m more in control. What is my animal form good for besides turning invisible and—?” She lifted the left side of her upper lip, revealed a canine and growled.

  Vee burst out laughing and was glad to see that Syama too was amused enough to grin. “Fine, you can come with me but you have to promise not to speak. And keep a rein on that temper of yours.”

  “Deal.” Vee didn’t respond. “So . . . where are we going?” Syama peered out of the windscreen in mock anticipation.

  “God, you’re worse than a ten-year-old.”

  Syama let out a low unholy growl that lifted the hairs on the back of Vee’s neck. Then she flung herself against the backrest and folded her arms. For all her experience and fighting skills, Vee had to remind herself that the girl was still just a girl. In hellhound terms, she was still a baby and in human equivalent she’d be eighteen or nineteen at the most. Definitely still on the young side.

  Not to mention she’d been tossed earth-side as punishment—the details of which Syama had yet to reveal.

  When Vee pulled up outside the Horizon Building, Syama let out a second growl, this one infinitely more dangerous.

  “You can’t be serious.”

  Vee gritted her teeth and jumped from the car valet, handing her keys to the car attendant and stalking to the entrance without looking back. Syama would follow because there was no way she’d sit in the car waiting while the action happened elsewhere. She’d go even if she was a reluctant participant in said action.

  Vee entered the gleaming gold-and-black marble lobby and headed to the bank of gold elevators.

  Inside, she punched the penthouse button and kept the doors open only long enough for Syama to slide inside milliseconds before they closed.

  Syama gave her a dirty look and leaned against the back wall of the elevator, glaring at Vee’s back. This, Vee could see in the four mirrored walls of the lift.

  Vee pursed her lips and ignored the girl, her mind spinning on the decision.

  “I hope you are going to be happy with the price she asks.”

  Vee stared at Syama in the reflection of the mirror. “She owes me.”

  “And you really think she works that way?”

  “She damned well better. Or I won’t be helping her anymore.” Vee gave a nod, flexing her fingers. They’d healed so well she’d barely noticed the slight twinge of pain every now and then.

  “Why?” Syama’s angry question brought Vee’s gaze back up to the hellhound’s indignant reflection. “Demon bounty-hunting not floating your boat anymore?” Syama’s tone was cool as she shot the words out like barbed arrows.

  Vee sighed. “I don’t do that anymore.”

  “Ooh. A changed woman, are we?”

  Vee sighed and was grateful she’d been saved from answering by the opening of the elevator doors.

  They stepped out into the hall, black marble tiles and walls covered in gold fabric.

  “She sure likes it plush,” said Syama, her tone bland.

  “I thought Naraka was covered in gems and gold and had real diamonds for stars?” Vee murmured, repeating words that the hellhound had said to her only weeks before.

  Syama made a rude noise and Vee hid a grin. At the end of the wide hall was a set of double doors—gold again, no surprise—and Vee knocked, a little suspicious at the lack of a standing sentry.

  The doors opened within seconds, and a butler dressed in a deep red Nehru suit bowed as he let them in. He waved a hand at a doorway to his left and waited as Vee and Syama entered.

  Inside the room, everything was white except for the colored gems used as accents. In the middle of the ceiling hung the largest precious stone chandelier Vee had ever seen. She’d been here before and yet each time she remained in awe.

  Syama’s gasp told her the hellhound-girl was just as amazed as Vee.

  “I can’t believe it,” Syama mumbled as she stopped in her tracks. “I’m going to wait here.”

  Vee had kept walking and had to stop and turn. The hard look in Syama’s eye brooked no argument from Vee, so she relented and headed to the silk-covered sofas. Three large seats were arranged in a U-shape with a single throne-like chair occupying the fourth side.

  The gold of it gleamed, but not as much as its occupant.

  Cressida Lane got to her feet, holding out her hands to embrace Vee.

  Vee, though all she wanted was to step backward out of reach, leaned in for an air kiss. So. Freaking. Pretentious. But that was Cressida for you.

  The woman’s black hair hung in waves all the way to her slim waist, her almost ebony skin gleamed, while the gem-encrusted tiara in her hair sparkled like a million stars.

  Although she had let go of Vee’s arm, her hand drifted to rest at Vee’s waist, the action of a friend or a lover, a little too familiar. But Vee ignored it, leaving the hand where it was as Cressida guided her to the closest sofa.

  Vee sat carefully, having previously experienced the dangers of Cressida’s lush sofas. The last time she’d been here she’d sat heavily an
d had sunk deep into the softness and had ended up almost sprawled all over Cressida herself.

  Sitting as primly as the seat would allow, Vee faced Cressida and said, “I’m so glad you were able to receive me.”

  The woman smiled, her eyes gleaming with curiosity. “To what do I owe the honor? The last time we met, you broke up with me.”

  Vee restrained the urge to roll her eyes. She’d rescinded her agreement to continue working with Cressida as a bounty hunter, and the woman made it sound as if she’d divorced her or something.

  Vee smiled as pleasantly as she could. “I need some help finding someone.”

  Cressida leaned back, crossing one shapely leg over the other. With bracelets of sparkling gems at her wrists and ankles, she glittered with every movement.

  She wore a flowing white sari, tied in a strange new fashion, wrapped around her curves from chest to waist, with the two free ends hanging from her hips, covering her front and back but leaving the bottom half a skirt split all the way to her waist.

  Her dressing was suggestive, but Vee could handle her. Cressida knew she owed Vee, and now that she’d come to collect she didn’t doubt that the woman would pay.

  “What do you need?”

  “I need to speak to the head of the lion-mahabidala clan.”

  Cressida’s eyebrows rose. “You do, do you?”

  Vee lifted her own eyebrow. “Is that going to be a problem?”

  Cressida shook her head, uncoiled herself from the sofa and then sat again, curling her feet beneath her in a pose so relaxed that Vee knew trouble was brewing.

  The air around Cressida shimmered and Vee could see her real persona curling around her like an overexposed photograph, only with images in gold and black and tangerine.

  Vee knew she sat beside a dangerous woman, one capable of pouncing and filling her with poison in an instant.

  But still, Vee had to hope that despite her nature, Cressida would hold up her end of the bargain.

  She did, after all, have a reputation to uphold.

  Cressida inclined her head, lifted her hand and fished a card out of the air. She handed it over to Vee who took the rectangular piece of paper and read the name:

  Nivaan Kailash

  The card held an address and a mobile phone number.

  Her faith in Cressida was restored.

  As Vee pocketed the card, a low clicking began to fill the room, so fast and close together that it was almost the hiss of a rattlesnake.

  Uh-oh.

  Syama walked forward and came to stand at Vee’s side.

  Cressida smiled, her eyes darkening to an obsidian. “Don’t worry, little one. Your mistress is in no danger.”

  “I’m not—”

  Cressida lifted a hand and silenced Vee. “You will have to forgive me if I seem a little perturbed. I’m not used to being asked for information without being told why it’s needed.”

  Vee wanted to point out that the why is really none of Cressida’s concern, but she shut her mouth.

  Cressida was far too dangerous.

  Vee sighed. “A report came across my desk. Something to do with the claws of a lion, but the evidence kept leading back to a human. They asked that I investigate. And I agreed. The only thing I could think of was feline shifters, so I’m ticking them off my list. Lions are the first.”

  The hissing-ticking subsided and Syama relaxed a little.

  Cressida smiled, her teeth gleaming. She rose from the sofa, her movements regal despite her bare feet. Her aura shimmered around her, stronger than ever, reminding Vee of the danger she’d courted by coming here.

  Still, the best way forward is straight through.

  She got to her feet as well, taking Cressida’s cue. “Thank you. I do appreciate your help.”

  Cressida tipped her head and smiled, studying Vee from head to toe. As her eyes returned to Vee’s face she caught her lip between her teeth, the action both seductive and pained.

  Time to get out of here before she licks her lips.

  Vee nodded and turned to leave. She was halfway to the hall, with Syama at her side, when Cressida called out, “Vaishnavi? You will tell me how your investigation goes, won’t you?” Her voice rang like a bell and strangely—or maybe not so strangely—Vee heard it inside her head.

  Vee nodded. “Of course, I will.” She smiled and gave a shallow wave then scurried out into the hall where the butler, his expression sage and serious, opened the door and bowed them out.

  Seconds later, once the doors to the elevator were shut, Syama turned on Vee.

  “You are insane,” she yelled.

  “What?” asked Vee innocently, “I’m still alive, aren’t I?”

  Syama snorted. “Barely. She was this—” she held up her forefinger and thumb and created a space so narrow a needle would struggle to pass through “—close to having you for dinner.”

  Vee rolled her eyes and laughed, then spent the rest of the elevator ride avoiding Syama’s furious gaze because even if she didn’t admit it to the hellhound, she had to be honest with herself.

  She had probably just narrowly missed being Cressida’s main meal.

  Chapter 22

  The goddess walked across the cool black tiles, her hips swaying seductively even though there was none to witness. The gems on her wrists and ankles tinkled as she moved, making a music all of her own.

  A she slipped deeper into the room, the door beyond opened, obeying her silent command. Inside, her man Harish stood beside the bed, his eyes lowered as he waited. The man was most endearing, which is probably the only reason she’d kept him at her side for all these years.

  As she entered she passed him, her arm brushing against his. She felt him shiver and smiled at the fear shining from him like a beacon. Still, he glanced at the expansive bed, silently indicating he’d done his work, then focused again on the floor.

  Sometimes the man was too subservient.

  She tossed her head and waved at him to leave, flicking her hand to engage the lock on the door. She liked her privacy—when it mattered.

  Then she focused her attention on the bed, and on the man lying there, naked, wrapped in gold ribbon, like a gift just waiting to be presented to her for her enjoyment alone.

  She walked to the bedside, her hips moving rhythmically again for only the man to see. His eyes were large, wide with fear, and yet taken by her form. He glanced at her hips, at the curve of her breast and she smiled, a seductive curl of her lips that she knew would have him panting.

  The goddess stood on her toes, and knelt on the bed, crawling over to the man who now lay still, waiting, sensing something was about to happen, anticipating.

  She smiled again.

  Straddling him, she leaned close and inhaled his scent, her nose gliding against his neck, then grazing his bare chest, then her lips, her breath against his lips.

  He lifted his head, expecting what . . . a kiss perhaps? But she left him wanting as she stood over him removing her garment, allowing its length to fall a little at a time, watching him watch her with hunger gleaming in his honey eyes. A hunger insignificant in comparison to hers.

  He stared at her, feasting his eyes, and she laughed, the sound tinkling like chimes, musical then staccato, clicking against his ears so hard that he flinched.

  He stared around the room, fear now overtaking his sense, the nude form of a seductive woman all but forgotten.

  What he saw stole the blood from his face, stole the passion that had built within him.

  The goddess allowed her glamor to fall just that bit more, allowed her true form to flicker like a golden halo around her. Still shimmering with golden light she knelt over him, straddling again but not touching, feasting her eyes on his flesh as the giant black tail of a scorpion rose over her shoulder.

  The ebony stinger swayed in the air, as if dancing to a silent tune.

  Then it struck.

  The sound of the impact was music to her ears, the soft thunder of something coming, the dull th
ud of a footfall, the stinger landed, striking skin and tearing into flesh, plunging deep into the man’s neck.

  Blood spurted and she threw her head back and let out a cry of pure delirious joy.

  It had been too long.

  Venom pulsed through the stinger and into the man’s body and his torso bucked as the poison filtered through him. It took mere seconds for him to take his last breath, mere moments until his eyes glazed over and his body was there for the taking.

  Her glamor strengthened now, and the obsidian tail was followed closely by a pair of pincers that held the man’s arms as the goddess leaned in closer. The stinger shifted as it changed its purpose now, sending a clear fluid into the man’s flesh, bloating him as if it were inflating him like a balloon.

  The goddess smiled as she watched. Tears filled her eyes and she let them fall unchecked as they hit her collarbone and ran down her body, down between her naked breasts.

  But her tears dried not on smooth supple female flesh, but on a black obsidian carapace. The goddess reached out and tested the flesh, now turned into a liquid, held in only by the vessel that was his skin.

  With great care she leaned over, fascinated by the process just as much as by the need.

  Placing her mouth to his chest, she opened her jaws, allowing the pair of chelicera just inside her mouth to erupt. She used those fangs to pierce the skin and sink deeper into the luscious flesh, to drink of his body, of his sacrifice.

  The goddess ate her fill, her giant pincers holding down her prey, her tail curled behind her, superfluous now that it had achieved its purpose. When she was done she pushed aside the bleached bones of the man, licked so clean and covered with a thin layer of enzymes which would further deteriorate any trace of flesh.

  The goddess lay down on the soft mattress, yawned and curled up into a ball.

  Chellama, Goddess of Scorpions, fell asleep with a smile on her face.

  Chapter 23

  “You have a death wish,” snapped Syama as they waited for the car to be brought around.

  Vee met her gaze then looked away. “Fine. I will agree that meeting with Cressida was a little on the dangerous side.”