The Rainmaker

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The Rainmaker Page 19

by Petra Landon


  Nandini came to an abrupt stop, her chest heaving after the mad escape. Glancing back, she could see a faint glimmer from the street she had come through, showing up brighter now that the alley she stood in was almost pitch dark. Panting, her breathing loud in the silent alley, she pondered what to do next. While she’d had the foresight to grab her purse with her passport and money, her case with clothes and toiletries had been left behind in car’s trunk.

  As she glanced back indecisively at the soft light from the sidewalk she had fled from, her sharp ears caught the pounding footfalls of someone headed towards her. Her other form was sensitive to even minute vibrations in the earth. Nandini glanced around her in panic. Barring a few dumpsters and what looked like an abandoned tatty old couch, the alley lay empty. On the far side, angled towards the wall that ended the alley, she spied an arched doorway. It looked like a service entrance to the building next door. Nandini rushed to it, hoping the door would lead her to safety. Not a moment too soon, either, because the footsteps now moved into the alley. She pushed at the door, desperately hoping that someone had left it unlocked, but it remained stubbornly shut. The footsteps in the alley paused, as if listening for her. Nandini stopped rattling the door, hoping the intruder would not come further into the alley to check for her.

  For a minute, there was silence. Her heart pounded while she attempted to squish herself into the little archway niche. Should she transform to her other form, she wondered for a wild moment. It would certainly allow her to hide herself in the alley. Then, better sense prevailed. She hadn’t mastered the art of transforming without destroying her clothes. What about after she’d shaken her pursuer off successfully? She’d be near naked in a strange city of an unfamiliar country with no one to call to come to her aid. That would be the equivalent of jumping from the frying pan into the fire.

  The footsteps moved deeper into the alley, deliberate and without haste. Nandini straightened her spine. What was she doing, cowering in the doorway like a coward, she admonished herself fiercely. She was a First One, descended from a long line of illustrious Naga, her power strong — more than capable of defending herself against a random stranger, even a Chosen. And if he weren’t, well, she knew how to hold her own. Relocating from her small village to an anonymous provincial town had forced her very quickly to learn how to survive.

  Nandini stepped out from the doorway, in direct line of sight to the tall figure poised halfway into the alley. Opening her mouth to demand answers from the man before her, she closed it with a frown. Even as a silhouette, Nandini could tell he wasn’t the man from the airport. For one, he was taller. Much taller. The man she’d been running from was thin, dark-haired and pale — unlike the fair-haired, well-built and tall stranger watching her now. For a moment, the stranger seemed almost as nonplussed by her presence as she was by him. Then, he strode toward her unhurriedly to come close. The blond-haired giant stared at her from bright blue eyes while Nandini blinked. She’d never seen him before.

  For the second time that night, she opened her mouth to ask him who he was, only to close it again. Someone else was heading towards the alley. The vibrations of running footsteps on the sidewalk gave him away.

  “What?” he inquired calmly, the blue eyes noting the subtle changes in her expression.

  “Someone’s coming” she answered almost reflexively, her eyes wandering to the arched doorway. Should she hide herself again, Nandini wondered.

  The man reached for her, his manner assured and confident as he tugged her by the hand towards the doorway she had left only moments before.

  “Hide” he said simply.

  She followed him to squeeze herself into the doorway. This time, it was a tighter fit with the tall stranger squashed in too. No sooner were they tucked into the archway than footsteps rushed into the alley to come to a sudden stop. The blond-haired giant adjusted himself infinitesimally to lower his mouth to her ear.

  “Stay put” he whispered before extricating himself adroitly to stride away and face the newcomer.

  “Can I help you?” Nandini heard him ask the intruder.

  “I’m looking for my dog” the newcomer answered after a short pause.

  “What kind is he?” Nandini’s unexpected savior inquired casually.

  “A lab. He’s a puppy.”

  “I haven’t seen it come in here. You’re welcome to look but I doubt it’s hiding behind the dumpsters.”

  There was a short pause, then the intruder shrugged. “I guess he’s not here then.”

  “Guess not.”

  Nandini waited, her ears straining. Eventually, she caught the footsteps leading away from the alley. Still, she waited, hidden by the doorway, not quite sure how to react.

  “Stay here. I’ll make sure he’s gone” the blond-haired stranger warned softly before striding away towards the alley entrance.

  Nandini waited, puzzled and confused by the circumstances. This had been a strange evening — first, the stranger at the airport, and now this one.

  “He’s gone” the stranger said to her crisply. “Let’s get out before he comes looking for you again.”

  Nandini exited the doorway to accompany him out of the alley and onto the sidewalk. She hesitated when he turned right, towards the darkened streets she had wanted to avoid earlier. At her hesitation, he paused to meet her eyes directly.

  “I’ve a car two blocks from here. If you want to avoid him, we should take the back roads” he said simply.

  Under the street lights, Nandini had her first good look at the man. Her first thought was that he was the most striking man she had ever set eyes on — a strong, handsome face, the gorgeous bones underneath covered by a tan, startling clear eyes and sun-kissed blond hair worn just a tad too long.

  As she stared up at him, a little lost for words, the firm lips stretched into a charming smile and the blue eyes lit up with amusement.

  “I’m the good Samaritan, remember?” he said gently.

  Yes, but she didn’t know what had compelled him to play that role, Nandini mused. That made her wary. On the other hand, he’d helped her successfully evade the man from the airport. So perhaps it was time to take a chance on him, a stranger who’d come to her aid. At least until he gave her a reason to doubt him.

  “Lead the way” she gestured towards the darkened streets.

  He gave her a searching glance before leading her away from the bright lights. They weaved through intersecting side streets before he ushered her to a nondescript rental car.

  “Why were you in that alley?” she asked once they were in the car.

  “For you” he answered easily.

  She looked shocked. “Me?”

  “I thought you might need help.” He shrugged. “So, I followed you to the alley.”

  “Followed me” she repeated again, too astonished to do anything except parrot his words.

  “I was at one of the café tables you ran past” he explained. “Idly watching a small crowd gathered around an accident — some kind of fender bender, I guessed. Then suddenly, you burst through the crowd and took off like a bat out of hell. A few minutes later, I see a scrawny dude take off after you. He looked like he meant business.”

  He shot her another one of his attractive grins. “Being the chivalrous sort, especially when it comes to beautiful women, I thought I’d go check if you required any assistance.”

  A short silence reigned in the car.

  “I did. Thank you” she acknowledged slowly.

  “Why was he chasing you?”

  “It’s a long story” she sighed. And one she had yet to make sense of herself.

  “How about you let me take you out for a drink and you can tell me all about it.” He deployed his considerable charm. “You pick the place.”

  Nandini hesitated.

  “Haven’t you ever heard of damsels in distress rewarding chivalrous knights who come to their rescue?” He arched his eyebrow.

  Nandini’s lips quirked, in spite of herself.
The man was incorrigible, and very confident of his effect on women.

  “First things first” she countered ruefully. “I need to find a hotel for the night. And some toiletries. I had to abandon my luggage in the car when I ran.”

  “Luggage?”

  “That man chasing me — he was waiting for me at Portland Airport. I was expecting someone and I assumed he was there for me.”

  “He wasn’t the person you were expecting?”

  “No.” She shook her head.

  He contemplated her for a moment.

  “I’m staying at the Marriot, not far from here. It’s a little out of town, but if that works for you, I can give them a call to check if they have any rooms available” he offered.

  Nandini looked surprised. “You’re not local?”

  “No, I’m visiting, like you.”

  He deployed that attractive grin again. “It’s a long story. I’ll tell you when you allow me to buy you that drink.”

  “Could you make that call to your hotel please?”

  “Of course.” He pulled out his cell. “Roman Durovic” he said, holding out his hand to her.

  Nandini placed her hand in his. “Nandini Rathore.”

  Her hand was shaken firmly, in a businesslike manner.

  “First visit to Portland?” he inquired, scrolling through his cell for the hotel’s contact information.

  “First time in the US.”

  His eyes flashed to her just as the cell squawked in his ear. “Yes, do you have any rooms available?”

  Nandini glanced outside, allowing the conversation beside her to fade away. Who was the man at the airport and what did he want with her, she wondered. This whole thing made absolutely no sense. Had the men after Ma sent him? She shook her head in confusion.

  She’d give Mahen a call once she had her accommodation sorted, she decided. He always teasingly referred to her as the emotional twin, the one who wore her heart on her sleeve. Her brother, on the other hand, could always be counted on to make decisions without allowing his emotions to rule him.

  “You’re all set, Nandini.” He stumbled over her name. “You’ve a room waiting for you at the Marriott.”

  “Thank you” she said gratefully.

  “My pleasure.” He navigated the rental out of the tight parking spot to take a quick U-turn to head in the opposite direction.

  “You know the city well” Nandini murmured from beside him.

  “I’ve been here many times” he answered with a smile. “I live up north, in a small town on the coast of British Columbia.”

  “Canada?”

  “Yes. I’ve been coming to Portland on both business and pleasure, all my life.”

  “Are you here on business now?”

  “No, pleasure. I was to meet friends here, and go skiing in the Cascades, near Bend, but the storm canceled all flights from the East Coast. I didn’t feel like going skiing on my own, so decided to just spend a few days here. What about you?” Roman shot her a quick glance from those bright blue eyes. “I’m guessing you’re not here for the skiing season.”

  “No.” Nandini shook her head, wondering how much to tell him. He had been of enormous assistance. “I’m here on business. Sort of” she added.

  “Hmm, sounds interesting.” Roman let the matter rest. He had a longer game to play and fate had just thrown the most important person in it onto his lap. He’d need to tread very carefully to avoid arousing her suspicions.

  “Where are you from?”

  “India.” Her answer was brief.

  He cast a sidelong glance at her. There was an air of confidence and assurance about her, unusual for someone her age. She couldn’t be older than mid-twenties, he guessed. An exotic, understated beauty with honey-colored skin and unusual indigo eyes. This was a woman comfortable in her skin, he concluded, albeit one capable of spectacular eruptions if pushed to the wall.

  A few hours later, they were seated at the tiny bar in the lobby of the Marriott.

  “I’m here to search for my mother” Nandini announced abruptly as Roman took a sip of his beer.

  She had begged off alcohol with the excuse that it would play havoc with her jetlag. Having rented a room at the hotel for two nights, she’d also been provided some essentials by the accommodating hotel staff after Roman had explained that her luggage had not made it.

  “Your mother” he repeated slowly, trying to hide his astonishment. Whatever Roman had expected, this was not it.

  “All our lives, my brother and I have believed that she passed away when we were babies.” She paused as if searching for the right words. “A few weeks ago, we discovered that she’s very much alive. My brother has some family stuff to handle back home, so I volunteered to make the trip.”

  “What makes you believe she’s here?”

  “A copy of her marriage license listed an address in Portland. That’s all we have to go on.”

  “She was American?” he inquired cautiously.

  “Yes.”

  Roman thought furiously. She was here on a personal visit, he realized. Something neither TorElnor nor he had taken into account, when his Chief had tasked Roman with discovering why the Naga envoy was in town. Or perhaps, she was here to kill two birds with one stone — personal reasons as well as Naga business. Who was she, he wondered. Why had the new leader of the Naga chosen this young woman as his envoy? But these were questions Roman could not ask her, not if he was to maintain his cover of a good Samaritan passerby who had merely stopped to assist a woman in trouble.

  Just for a moment, he wondered whether he should tell her the truth. Or was it too late already? There was also the strange matter of why she had run from the man at the airport. Something was not adding up for him here.

  “Who were you expecting at the airport?” he inquired.

  “An old family friend in Portland offered his assistance to help track down my mother. He was to have sent someone to receive me at the airport.”

  This time, Roman had to work hard to hold on to his poker face. It struck him that she was talking about SivoTar — the influential Eru was the old family friend she referred to. TorElnor had said that the previous king had been a friend of SivoTar’s. This must be the daughter. Roman tried to put all the pieces together. The murdered Naga king had an American wife, presumed dead for ages but suddenly resurrected to life, if her daughter was to be believed. Could this missing wife have anything to do with the king’s murder, he wondered.

  Roman glanced at her surreptitiously. She gazed pensively down into the depths of her virgin fruit punch, the expression on her face giving him pause. She was grieving, he realized. Grieving the recent death of her father. Again, rather inconveniently, Roman felt a pang as his conscience prodded him. Had he done the right thing here, he wondered. Should he should tell her the truth? That would never work, reminded the voice in his head. If he told her the truth, he’d have to confess that he was no bystander who’d come to her aid. Instead, he’d followed her from the airport into downtown Portland. Like the man she had run from, Roman too had been waiting for her at Portland Airport. He had zeroed in on her as the envoy immediately. The other passengers on her flight had all been part of groups or families, and something in her body language as she’d approached the man holding a placard had screamed Chosen to him.

  Roman reminded himself that he’d caught a very lucky break. As evident by what she had already revealed of her personal quest, she trusted him. If he told her the truth now, she would turn away from him. His eyes on her, Roman wrestled with his conscience. He meant her no harm, after all. His lies so far had been little white ones, a harmless ploy, and moreover, Roman told himself in a bid to soothe his guilty conscience, he’d make up for it by assisting her with her quest. He knew the city well, and this way, he’d also be perfectly positioned to complete the task his Chief had entrusted to him.

  As Roman worked on himself, unaware of the complicated chess game set into motion by a prophecy foretold a long time ag
o, little did he know that his decision to take the easier path would come back to haunt him. Crucial to the historic and united stand his people would one day take against an ideology detrimental to the Chosen, his lie would wreck his future relationship with the Chosen destined to work with him on this mission of singular importance.

  “Why did you run from him?” he asked

  She glanced up from her drink to focus on him. Roman had a feeling that her mind had been far away.

  “He wasn’t who I thought he was” she said candidly. “I couldn’t put my finger on it, but I knew something was wrong the moment I got into the car with him. He knew nothing about my father’s old friend, for one. It was obvious he’d not been sent by him. I told myself that the first chance I got, I’d run. We were passing through this very busy street when a street lamp fell before our car, blocking it. It seemed like a freak accident. I took it as a sign and ran.”

  Roman said nothing. That lamp had not been a freak accident as she believed, but it had been a sign. When her car had headed into downtown, Roman had taken a chance. He knew this city intimately. Parking his car on a side street, he’d made his way on foot to the main crowded thoroughfare. His intention had been to slow them down, to get a good look at the girl. So, he’d used his power to fell the post and block their car. To his astonishment, she had come sprinting out to dart into the crowds. And, after a moment of consternation, he had given chase.

  “What now?” he asked her. “What’s your next step?”

  Her eyes met his inquiringly, puzzled by his query.

  “I’m offering my assistance” he said gravely.

  “Why?” She was direct.

  “I’m at a loose end, with a few days to kill.” He shrugged. “And, I know the city well.”

 

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