Immortal Bound

by T. G. Ayer

  He shut the door and motioned for them to sit at the two leather armchairs in front of his desk.

  Menon took a seat opposite them and settled against the backrest of his office chair. Vee didn’t miss the well-coordinated furnishings, nor was she ignorant of their value. Mahogany was rare these days, and real leather even harder to find because of its high demand.

  He settled himself behind the desk. “Now, what can I do for you, Doc?” Menon smiled but the expression failed to reflect in his eyes.

  Odd.

  “Thanks for seeing us on short notice, Professor.” He glanced at Vee. “This is my friend Vee Shankar. She’s interested in mahabidala rituals. As they pertain to ancient texts of course.” Nivaan gave a short laugh, clearing up any doubt as to whether Vee was meant to know about the species’ actual existence.

  So, that’s the way he planned to play this.

  It was fine with Vee, and she decided it would facilitate the interview best to allow the shifter alpha to take the lead. Until she saw fit to ask her own questions, of course.

  “Nice to meet you . . . Vee,” the Professor paused and stared at her for a moment longer than was necessary.

  She smiled and took a seat while Nivaan talked. “We’ve been doing some research into rituals used by shifters within the context of ancient texts.”

  The professor nodded, “And specific to lion mahabidala?”

  Vee squelched a frown. All the man had done so far was repeat what he’d been told.

  Nivaan nodded. “We know that invocation of Narasimha could be part of it,” he glanced at Vee but she didn’t argue, “but we need more information on the specifics of the ritual.”

  The professor hesitated and Vee wondered if he’d try to hide important information from them. Then Nivaan cut in, “Like what specific rituals are performed. I have a few books in storage but I need the information fast. Otherwise, I’d have to dig the books out and pore over them.”

  Menon’s eyebrows lifted, as if slightly offended that Nivaan had implied that he’d prefer someone else do the hard work.

  Nivaan laughed, appearing to notice the professor’s expression. “You’re the only person I know who’d know things like this off the top of his head. And besides, leave it up to me and I’d likely interpret it wrong.”

  He glanced at Vee, “Not if I can help it,” she murmured, “but yes, we don’t have the time for the doc here to go in search of his books.”

  “May I ask what it’s for?” The professor leaned forward.

  Vee inclined her head. “I’m investigating reports from the continent that imply the involvement of cults who worship mahabidala, both lion and tiger. We’re trying to rule out the various sub-cults by identifying the rituals used. We’re hoping to identify a pattern that would aid in that elimination process.”

  “And we’d be relieved if we could rule out . . . a bunch of crazy lion-shifter wannabes,” Nivaan’s eyebrow rose, but he edged the words with amusement as his dimple deepened. Vee was glad he was playing his part.

  She kept her expression serious. “It’s a concern and the law enforcement departments are attempting to keep it under wraps. But my research would help to put the truth in front of people. Cults like these are a danger to the people, spreading their lies . . .” With that, Vee implied she was a reporter and that she wasn’t of the camp of believers of such fantastical tales. “The doctor has been kind enough to help shed light on the truth.”

  He nodded, smiling cheerfully and enjoying a knowing glance with the professor. Good.

  “Well,” Menon took a deep breath, “I’m happy to help decrease the time spent searching. I’ll get a hold of the books and be right down.”

  He left the room and Vee leaned toward Nivaan. “Off to send a warning?”

  “Aren’t you a suspicious agent,” the doctor said, his smile wider.

  She shrugged and sat back, “Something’s off about him. I know he’s your friend, but I have him earmarked for further investigation.”

  The doc raised his eyebrows but the fact that he didn’t challenge Vee’s opinion confirmed that he too was considering the professor’s involvement in, or at least his knowledge of, the killings.

  “Is he a shifter too?”

  Nivaan lifted an eyebrow.

  Vee had suspected as much.

  Before she could speak, the professor returned and placed a half dozen books on the table. Vee had already deduced that this part was all for show. He’d likely realized that he’d have to reveal what was already in the books in order to avoid being implicated in attempting to hide information from Nivaan.

  As he paged through the books, Vee’s phone beeped with a message from Brent at HQ.

  ID of Vic still unclear. Cell ping indicates phone currently at 7135 Lassiter Drive, NYC Campus.

  Vee tried to contain her surprise. She didn’t need to go investigate the location because she was already at the coordinates he’d supplied.

  Curiouser and curiouser.

  Vee smiled politely and listened as Menon explained that the texts show that some lion-shifter races sacrifice the organs of their victims in order to obtain the grace of their patron god.

  “And in this case who is the patron god?” asked Vee.

  “Goddess,” he responded, his tone a little cutting. “Pratyangira, the Lion Goddess.”

  “Is she a benevolent deity? Or a fear-inspiring one?” Vee was curious. She’d heard of Pratyangira a few times, read an article or two on the goddess and her exploits centuries ago. Of course, the professor would not be privy to the books and texts Vee had used in her education.

  Vee’s family had maintained the Apsara’s secret records for centuries, all handed down in turn to the next generation of caretakers like the Shankars, preserved in its original form across centuries.

  “Oddly enough, she is benevolent.” Menon lifted his arm, waving it almost imperiously in the air. Bringing to Vee’s attention the bandages wrapped around two of his fingers.

  “Oddly?”

  Vee had to force her mind to remain on track. The day had dragged by, and she couldn’t wait until her midnight appointment. The thought of Ma remaining any longer within the clutches of the evil bastard who’d taken her . . . It made Vee’s blood boil and her heart fill with pain. And fear.

  She refocused as Menon nodded. “A lion goddess would be characteristic of a feline mother, so protective of her cubs that she’s prone to violence, if not murder. Yet Pratyangira was written to be a calm almost placid goddess, so filled with kindness that she was a counter to the innate violence that was the feline nature.”

  “So these . . . cults . . . are unlikely to be making offerings to her?” asked Vee.

  He shook his head. “It isn’t as simple as that.” His tone was superior, as if Vee’s intelligent was coming into question. She didn’t react, just waited for him to continue, hiding her impatience.

  He inhaled slowly. “Pratyangira is representative of all that is good about the Mother. And as mothers go, the need to protect her own awakens desires within that are perhaps not of her own choosing. And yet she is willing, if not eager, to cross that line in the sand that takes her beyond herself, beyond her state of passive love, to one of passion and intensity. From which she can never return.”

  Vee had to force her mouth to close. The professor was certainly a master orator, and had certainly held Vee’s own attention for the duration of his monologue. Even Nivaan had sat unmoving at her side, only shifting once the professor had ended his monologue.

  The silence lay like a heavy blanket upon the room now, as a few pieces clicked into place. But the professor didn’t notice Vee’s reactions. Instead, he beamed at her, proud he’d imparted his wisdom.

  So she played along, giving Nivaan a side-glance. “So, what you’re saying is that despite her benevolence, she is satisfied by such a sacrifice. Even happy? However barbaric?”

  Menon huffed impatiently, as if there was something else she’d missed. “Somethi
ng like that.” But what she didn’t miss was the hard edge to his gaze, a knowing assessment that said he was more aware than she’d expected.

  Vee sat back, forcing an expression of disappointment onto her face. Then she sighed deeply.

  Nivaan looked at her again. “I know how you feel. This is confusing and yet you feel like it makes all the sense in the world.”

  “For the space of five seconds,” Vee said with a dry laugh. Then she sat forward and smiled at the professor. “Thank you for trying to explain it to me. I must confess, I’m no wiser now than I was before we arrived.” They all laughed at that. “My only problem is to decide if this particular cult should remain on the list to watch.”

  “Watch?”

  Vee nodded. “Interpol has people keeping an eye on the various cults. Insiders, moles, snitches. I have no idea how they’re doing it, but we are hearing chatter. Can you tell me without a doubt that the shift—” On the chair arm, not three inches from hers, Nivaan’s fingers twitched, “—Pratyangira’s worshippers wouldn’t have anything to do with such slayings?”

  The professor hesitated. “I cannot proclaim to know the minds of all men. Especially those on a continent so far away. But what I can tell you is that I don’t believe they would be capable of it. It takes a particular mindset, one of a far more fervent nature than your average cult follower, or even leader for that matter, to enact such a ritual. Especially twice in two days.” The professor inhaled slowly as he closed his books one at a time.

  Vee got to her feet and smiled. “I’d like to thank you, Professor. You’ve been most enlightening.”

  “Anytime my dear,” he said attempting and failing at sounding benevolent.

  Vee gave him a sickly sweet smile. “Professor, would you mind very much if I popped by again? Everything you said . . . it’s given me a yearning to learn more about the mythology.”

  The man laughed, beaming as he gave her a small bow, “Absolutely, my dear. I look forward to it.”

  Whether he truly looked forward to it, Vee would never know because she had no intention of ever darkening his doorstep again.

  They said their goodbyes and left the house, with the Prof killing the porch lights even before they set foot off the porch.

  So much for hospitality.

  Nivaan held Vee’s elbow and guided her down the stairs and across the haphazardly cobbled path toward the sidewalk.

  The street was quiet and Vee drew to a stop a few yards from the cars where Krish and Syama were leaning against Nivaan’s silver sedan, chatting away.

  “Thank you for that,” she said turning to Nivaan.

  He slowed to a halt as well, shifting his honey gold eyes toward her. “I have to admit the man is odd.”

  She tilted her head. “What do you make of his theory?” she grinned, “Apart from the deliberate attempt to hide the existence of shifters in the modern world?”

  Nivaan looked back at the house. “The Prof was always an oddball, but I’m a little concerned. Some of what he said has me wondering.”

  “Well, one thing he said has me certain he’s connected to the murders. In some way, shape or form.”

  Nivaan stiffened. “Which is?” Tension radiated from his body as he took offense and prepared to defend the man.

  Vee lifted her chin.

  “We never told him there were two deaths in two days.”

  25

  Vee paused, biting her lip as she glanced back at the house.

  Then she looked up at Nivaan. “My tech guy ran the serial number on a smartwatch found at the scene and traced it to this address.”

  Nivaan’s jaw dropped. “So he does have something to do with the murders?”

  Vee shrugged, her eyes now on the house. She was about to suggest they stake the place out when a car drew into the drive and a man got out. Vee and Nivaan shifted beyond the trunk of a silver oak, using the shadows of the overhanging branches to keep out of sight. With his back to them, the visitor’s features were hidden as he headed up to the door. It took only a few seconds for the professor to open up and usher his guest inside.

  Had it not been for the furtiveness of his movements, Vee would have left and headed home. But the shifty flicker of Menon’s eyes as he scanned up and down the street caught her attention.

  Hiding something, are we?

  When Vee glanced back up and met Nivaan’s eyes it was pretty clear he’d seen Menon’s behavior too.

  He studied Vee’s face. “I take it you want to go back in?”

  A grin broke out on her face. “What other option is there?”

  He shrugged, “I’m a doctor, not double-oh-seven. I’d choose the going-back-home option.”

  Vee’s smile evaporated. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I really shouldn’t be involving civilians in this matter.”

  She straightened her spine and was about to head to the car when he reached out, his warm fingers curling around her upper arm.

  “The problem is, you have me intrigued. And pissed off.”

  “I have you pissed off?” Vee bristled but the emotion was a little clouded as her attention was focused on Nivaan’s hand, on the heat of his touch as it seared her skin.

  Nivaan grinned, his dimple flashing. “Someone’s on edge,” he glanced back at the house, “All I mean is that if these people are really killing innocent victims, it implicates all mahabidalas in the country, if not internationally. We’ve kept a low profile, abided by all the laws, and now the actions of a few will impact on the lives of so many.”

  Vee shook her head. “Not if I can help it. It’s not as if when a red-headed man kills someone, all red-headed men are considered suspects.” She paused, then smiled wryly, “That sounded better in my head.”

  He let out a soft laugh, the sound stolen by the light fingers of a passing breeze. “I know. It’s just that I want to do something about this.”

  “You’re endangering yourself.”

  One muscular shoulder rose and fell. “What’s life without a little danger?”

  Vee gritted her teeth. “Fine, but don’t blame me if you end up getting killed.”

  “I’ll try not to.”

  They both faced the house and Nivaan said, “I don’t suppose you have night vision?”

  Vee glared at him with narrowed eyes. “Your powers of observation are second to none.” Still, despite her annoyance, a smile curved her lips.

  The corner of his mouth lifted. “Follow me.”

  Vee nodded, but he didn’t see the acknowledgment because he’d already set off down the sidewalk toward the house. She hurried after him, catching up as he crossed the lawn in front of the house, heading straight for the thick bushes that ran alongside the building.

  “What’s the plan?” he whispered as they hunkered down.

  “Eavesdrop. And don’t get caught.”

  “Right.”

  They shifted slowly along the wall until they came to Menon’s study window, easily identified by the garish drapes and the wall of books. Light streamed out onto the side lawn, a long column of gold dividing up the lawn, and providing a barrier to their progress.

  They could go no further, but Vee had a plan. Nivaan motioned for her to hunker down beside him and she obeyed, the light almost brushing her shoulder.

  As they settled next to the window, she reached into her bag, fiddling around for the small leather case. Just as her fingers brushed the item she wanted, she was slammed into the wall beneath the window.

  Nivaan’s weight covered her body, his hot breath skimming her neck and ear. “Don’t move,” he whispered, the scent of him filling her mind.

  “What the hell—” he cut her off with a finger to her lips.

  A finger he didn’t remove even as he said, “Menon is right at the window. I’d hoped we’d be downwind so he wouldn’t get our scent, but we’d better stay out of sight until he thinks the coast is clear.”

  She blinked as she stared at him. They both lay beneath the window, half buried by the br
anches of a large silky dogwood bush. He was too close for comfort, but Vee couldn’t move him until the coast was clear.

  The heat of his body scorched into her flesh, and a low throbbing emanated from her belly. Beyond his head she could see the top half of Menon’s forehead as he stood at the window and stared out at the night.

  She shifted her focus to Nivaan whose face was so close that his chin brushed hers with every breath and only a breath separated his lips from hers.

  She glanced at his mouth, his full lips far too inviting. Looking up she met his gold-green eyes which glowed with an indescribably beautiful fire. And something inside her melted, some barrier she’d built that suddenly shattered.

  He lowered his head and captured her lips in a kiss that scorched her blood and stole her breath. Her mouth opened, letting him in, and she responded with an unrestrained heat.

  What was happening to her? They were supposed to be eavesdropping on a potential murderer, not making out a few feet from his curious gaze.

  She stiffened and moved her head away, feeling his body take her cue and move off hers. Menon had left the window and retreated further into the room.

  Vee shifted into a crouch, and ignored Nivaan’s gaze as she rifled through her bag again. Withdrawing a small zippered pouch, she opened it and removed a small white device.

  Nivaan peered closer as she lifted it free and stripped the tape from the adhesive backing. “Listening device?”

  Vee nodded, refusing to look at him. “It’s voice-activated and undetectable. Picks up and transmits all sounds within a twenty-foot radius.”

  She turned her back on him as she reached up and pressed the device beneath the window sill. Unless someone knew what they were looking for they’d never find it.

  As soon as the device was in place, Vee sent a text to Brent to activate the recording program on his end. “The chip had a record-or-transmit option, but we’ll just use transmit as I don’t plan to return for it anytime soon.”

  “So everything they say will be recorded by . . . your headquarters?”