The Hand of Kali Box Set Vol 2

by T. G. Ayer

  The woman shook her head. "My family danger."

  At first Maya thought she was merely repeating what Maya had said but Preeti's finger was pointed at her own chest. Maya understood. This was not about female oppression. This was all a means to an end.

  Babaji Mohandas's end.

  "Tell me where they are. I'll save them." Maya kept her voice low, gentle. Despite the urge to grab the woman by the shoulders and shake her hard until she let Maya leave.

  At last, Preeti nodded and made a writing motion in the air with her finger. Maya looked around, still reluctant to pull her phone from her pocket. She wasn't stupid.

  On the dresser sat the kohl pencil, and Maya hurried to grab it. She lifted the hem of the coat she wore, revealing the silk lining. Then, she handed the pencil to Preeti, giving her an encouraging nod.

  Preeti hesitated, her hand hovering in the air as she looked at the silk fabric and then at the pencil, and finally at Maya's face. Her jaw tightened as if making a decision, then she took the pencil and began to write.

  In Hindi.

  The letters gleamed, forming and reforming until Maya was able to understand them. An address.

  She'd free this woman's family if it was the last thing she did.

  Preeti stepped back and set the pencil down on the table. Maya dropped the hem of the suit and straightened.

  "Now?" asked Preeti, suddenly eager to help Maya.

  Maya nodded, watching the woman's face for any sign of deceit. Maya saw none but that didn't mean she could trust her. Clearly she worked for the priest, or sorcerer or whatever he was, but Maya had little choice.

  The opportunity was here. She had to take advantage of it.

  She gave Preeti an encouraging nod and waited as the woman headed to the door and opened it.

  Outside the hallway was dark and empty. Babaji Mohandas must be supremely confident that Maya's fear for her family's safety would keep her there without too much security.

  Maya's fear for her family's safety made her want to escape and warn them.

  Preeti turned to look back at Maya.

  "I get trouble." She looked afraid.

  "Don't worry. Come here." Maya beckoned and the woman left the door ajar and went to Maya.

  Swiftly and without warning, Maya grabbed the woman's hair and ruffled it up, pulling it from the braid. She tore the long end of the saree from Preeti's shoulder, hearing the fabric rip where it had been pinned to the woman's blouse.

  Standing back, Maya studied her. She looked roughed up. Maybe that was enough.

  Then Preeti took Maya's hand in hers. Maya frowned but merely watched as the woman lifted it. When she smacked her face with Maya's palm, Maya's eyes widened with shock.

  Preeti wanted Maya to hit her. It made sense, but Maya wasn't sure she could hit an innocent woman.

  But Preeti seemed to sense her hesitation. She used Maya's hand and smacked her face a second time, this blow a little harder.

  Maya relaxed her hand, refusing to hurt her. No matter what, she just couldn't.

  Preeti took a step away and for one awful moment Maya thought she was going to run out the door and alert the guards.

  Instead, she shoved the table, letting the bowls of water and bloody towels fall in a sodden heap. She grabbed the bedcovers and tugged them off the bed.

  Then she lifted the silver tray and hit her face with it.

  Maya cried out, horrified.

  But Preeti turned to her, her left eye swollen. "Go," she said softly before she sank to the floor and curled up into a ball.

  Maya had to hand it to her. Preeti was smarter than she’d let on.

  With a quick nod, Maya left the room and hurried as fast as she could into the darkness. Her fingers trailed the stone wall, guiding her until she reached the end of the passage. She had to go right to return to the entrance, but she hesitated.

  If she could at least destroy the statue, it would stall the old priest's efforts.

  Maya turned left and tiptoed back to the hall.

  Entering in silence, she was relieved to find the place empty. Babaji had left both the globe and the brass statue behind.

  Not smart.

  Maya moved toward the statue and, placing her palm onto its left arm, she pulled her fire to her hand. She could pulse fireballs into it, just in case someone came in. If she was caught she could pretend devotion, although she wasn't entirely sure if Babaji Mohandas would swallow that explanation.

  The fire pulsed through Maya's veins and she let it enter the cool metal. She glanced over to check the door.

  Still safe.

  Then she looked back at the statue, and almost screamed with fright.

  The blazing orange eyes of the statues stared darkly at her.

  Chapter 46

  A shiver ran through Maya but she forced herself to concentrate. She poured blazing heat into the brass and felt it beginning to melt beneath her fingers. The metal glistened, taking on a soggy sheen.

  The fake god's eyes narrowed as it tried to raise its free hand and hit Maya. The other hand was now a misshapen heap, the metal dripping to the stone floor in yellowy-bronze blobs.

  Maya caught the hand before the blow landed and pulsed her fire through it, melting it just as swiftly as its counterpart.

  Maya placed her hand to the fake god’s gleaming head. She proceeded to melt the statue, despite the fury within its gaze.

  The work had been easy, but the price hadn't. Maya felt fatigue pull at her, telling her she needed rest, telling her she'd used too much of her energy especially so soon after dancing for so long.

  She glanced over at the glass ball, still sitting a few feet in front of the god statue. Maya hoped it still contained the energy she'd generated. She'd need it back if she was to make her way out of here alive.

  Maya hurried to the ball and was about to slam her fist into it when something hit her broadside.

  She fell to the ground and rolled over, instinctively curling into a ball, moving smoothly to her feet to the surprise of her assailant.

  One of the guards stood before her, eyes wide as she prepared to fight back. Maya wondered if he'd ever fought hand-to-hand with a woman before. But she didn't have time to think.

  He grabbed for her but she spun out of his reach, dodging to run around him. She landed a jab to his ribs before spinning away.

  With a growl, he pulled a knife from his waistband and swiped at her. He missed her by a fraction of an inch, taking a slice out of her scarf.

  Maya tugged the scarf off her shoulder and flung it to the floor. She dodged his next swipe and followed his hand as it moved left to right, and left his stomach free for Maya to land a powerful punch to the gut.

  He let out a grunt and stumbled backward while a second guard appeared behind him running along the wall. Maya left the fallen man and raced to the oncoming guard. She surged into the air, and with a foot against the fat column she boosted herself toward him. As she sailed past him, she landed a punch to his temple, then dropped to the floor behind him.

  He wobbled on his feet stunned from the blow and Maya took the opportunity to bounce into the air, spin around and land a roundhouse kick to his head.

  KO.

  Maya had found not too long ago that kicks packed way more punch than punches. So she enjoyed seeing them work so well for her now.

  The first guard was struggling to his feet and Maya raced at him, knocking him out with a second punch to the torso.

  Behind her, the sound of footsteps filled the hall outside and Maya got to her feet. She raced to the glass ball and slammed her fist into it, using her fire to protect her hand and allowing her to shatter the glass into a million pieces.

  Shards of glass flew into the air and remained there as energy swept the room. An explosion ripped through the hall, so strong it sent Maya flying across the stone floor, sent tiny sharp missiles in all directions.

  As she landed and rolled to a stop, Maya watched three guards hit the back wall and collapse unc
onscious to the floor while their skin bloomed red in a hail of glass shards. One of the men had tumbled to the ground and was slowly getting to his feet.

  The energy which had originally belonged to Maya, swirled around the room and raced toward her as if it knew exactly where it belonged.

  It slammed into her, a force greater than she'd ever thought possible and she felt her pulse drop as the energy filled her.

  Grabbing the closest pillar, Maya gasped, sucking in air even as the energy lifted her up and strengthened her. How had she ever managed without this power surging through her veins?

  When she glanced up Babaji Mohandas came racing in and skidded to a stop to stare at her in shock. His eyes were wide as he took in the state of the room, the damaged statue and the ruined globe.

  He didn't speak. He just growled as he ran at her, putting his full weight behind him. At last Maya allowed herself to let her fire come to the surface. She opened her palm as she ran, leaping into the air as she sent a ball of flame at the priest's shoulder. She didn't intend to kill him, although she certainly didn't mind hurting him a little.

  Babaji Mohandas stopped and grabbed his arm, screaming with pain, but even so he still spun to face Maya. Clearly he was keen to protect his back.

  “No!” he screamed, fear filling his throat and throttling the words as he stared at her.

  "Next time, pick on someone your own size," said Maya, her voice low and threatening. She raised both her hands and sent twin flames at his feet. He shrieked, back-pedaling in the hope of avoiding the fire.

  But Maya was aiming beneath his legs. She concentrated her fire on the stones, filling them with heat so that they seared the old man's feet with every step he took.

  His screams filled the air as he stumbled backward. Even as he moved, Maya could see the blisters forming, thick and painful on his soles.

  It wasn't what she'd wanted.

  The old man had deserved worse.

  She should have made him dance until his own feet bled. Until his heart gave out.

  She lifted her hands, aiming them straight at the sorcerer.

  She wasn't sure what she'd intended on doing to him, but whatever it had been, she didn't get the chance.

  But something made her hesitate. Doubt and self-disgust skimmed down her spine, raking its claws as it went, reminders of what she was. A killer.

  Babaji Mohandas whimpered, though his eyes shone with pride.

  “I knew you had it in you.”

  Maya wanted to scream at him. “You don’t know a thing about me.” She took a step closer and the priest back-pedaled. At least he knew enough to be afraid of her.

  “The Hand of Kali,” he said so softly that at first Maya thought she’d imagined it.

  Blood roared in her ears and Maya swallowed hard. Had she imagined his words?

  But the sneer on his face was enough to confirm it. Confirming too that she’d been played.

  He’d known who she was all along, manipulated her all these hours, even knew she was fully capable of incinerating him on the spot.

  Maya suppressed a sigh.

  She wasn’t cut out for this crap.

  Subterfuge, manipulation. Cruelty.

  What kind of person did this and still slept well at night?

  Then Maya stiffened. “Who’s helping you?” The old man had implied she wouldn’t be happy to discover who was giving him information on Maya.

  Babaji Mohandas laughed, the sound harsh, skimming the air like a demon in flight. “What makes you think I’ll tell you?” He reached for the ragged knife tucked into the dhoti at his waist.

  Maya stood her ground. She’d kill him before he got to her.

  But he raised his hand and smiled. “I have done what is required. I will know soon enough if my work has been a success.” His teeth shone as he grinned.

  Then he raised his hand and slashed the serrated blade across his throat. His eyes went wide, and his mouth dropped open and blood trickled from his lips, staining his teeth as he coughed. Instinct bade him cover the wound at his neck, but it did little to staunch the flow of red.

  His fingers were soaked in blood, and soon his chest glistened.

  He looked up at Maya and smiled, and even his dying expression was filled with malice.

  He fell back, his body hitting the ground, the impact sending a wave of motion through his flesh before settling in silent death.

  Crap.

  He was dead.

  Maya stumbled closer, glancing around in case the place was being overrun with his henchmen. But the hall remained empty. No more guards coming to avenge the death of their Babaji.

  Maya fell to her knees beside the body and felt his neck for a pulse. Nothing.

  But she could access his mind the same way she’d done with Rosa.

  Maya settled onto her calves, ignoring the warm wetness as it soaked into the skirt of the suit. She was glad she didn’t need to touch the priest, glad she didn’t need to feel the lifeless cold of his skin. She’d be unable to concentrate if that was the case.

  Maya closed her eyes and sank into the old man’s mind, drifting back to the moments before he’d died. As if watching a video of his life, Maya rewound, flitting from memory to memory until the blood in her body chilled.

  It was her.

  A face appeared, the expression strained, and conflicted, as if trapped. The one face she’d hoped not to see in another dead person’s memories.

  Claudia.

  What did she have to do with Babaji Mohandas?

  Maya allowed herself to sink into the memory and forced herself to breath as she appeared within a small room beside the priest.

  A lush Persian carpet covered the floor, and handwoven tapestries hid the stone walls. Only the jagged rock of the ceiling confirmed they were still within the warren of underground tunnels.

  A low wooden table sat covered with food, spiked chicken and fish, fragrant biryanis, curries that steamed, waiting to be eaten. Maya flinched at the sound of Claudia’s voice.

  “I didn’t want it to get this far.” There was that fear that Maya had seen in Claudia’s eyes. It flitted across her face even when she tried to hide it from the old man.

  He laughed. “It doesn’t matter now does it? You’ve been helpful, and I’ve given you what you wanted.”

  Maya blinked. Claude was not confined to a wheelchair. She was standing upright, her spine straight. Maya had been right when she noticed the muscles in Claudia’s thighs move. Her aunt had pretended as if her leg hadn’t moved and Maya had in turn brushed it off as her imagination.

  Not true.

  Claudia was shaking her head. “I may have given you information about the Hand of Kali, but that didn’t mean I wanted you to kill her.”

  What?

  What have you done, Claude?

  Babaji Mohandas snorted loudly. “You have your issues with her, but that doesn’t matter to me. What matters is she is an unending source of power. You just keep up your end of the bargain. Get her away from KALIMA’s protection so I can grab her.”

  “You will not hurt her,” said Claudia, her tone strident.

  “You don’t have a say,” he countered. “She’s coming to the dance tomorrow. I’ll put things in motion.”

  “No. You have to stop. I won’t do this anymore. You never said you planned on hurting her. What you want to do is endless torture. Nobody deserves that.”

  Maya’s heart twisted within her chest. Claudia had betrayed her. But Maya wasn’t as surprised as she should have been purely because she’d read the signs. Only she’d chosen to ignore them.

  “You wanted to walk again, didn’t you? And you wanted to punish her. Now you have both, so what’s the problem?”

  Claudia shook her head. “I was hurt, and angry. And you manipulated my words.” Claudia paused, her jaw hardening. “I don’t want any part of this.”

  “Very well, then.” Babajis Mohandas flicked a finger and Claudia crumpled to the ground.

  She let
out a pained cry, like a mewling animal. But she lifted her head and glared at the priest. “I don’t care about my legs. Maya did what she had to do to save Stefan. It was my own inability to come to terms with my disability that made me focus on her.”

  Tears filmed Maya’s eyes. Claude had been in such pain. If only she’d refrained from letting her trauma control her. Maya blinked. That was unfair. It was likely much harder than Maya presumed, to accept and face such a disability.

  The priest shrugged. “If you need therapy, get it. I’m not wasting my time on you any longer. I have what I need.”

  He flicked a finger and Claudia disappeared.

  The look on her face was one of horror and fear. Maya sympathized, but her own heart pulsed with hurt, rippled with anger.

  Her own family had betrayed her.

  Chapter 47

  Maya was swept from the memory, by a hand on a shoulder.

  She knew the hand.

  She turned and sank into Nik's arms while Babaji Mohandas watched sightlessly.

  “What happened?" he said softly.

  She shook her head, gasping as another wave of energy surged through her. “I know who was behind this,” she said, staring up into his concerned eyes.

  Her heart ached, desperately needing solace and comfort.

  Then she blinked.

  A warm energy resonated around the room, two vibrations enveloped both Maya and Nik.

  Energy that sang in harmony with each other.

  Maya's spiritual resonance melded with that of Nik's demigod essence, and together they created a hum of power that was a sight to behold.

  She stepped out of his embrace and wrapped her arms around her waist. She needed space and time to figure out what she was going to do about Claudia. She wanted to tell Nik but it wasn’t the time nor the place to reveal that betrayal.

  She was turning to leave when she remembered Preeti. "There's a woman in one of the rooms."

  "Pale green saree?" When Maya nodded his expression darkened. "She's dead. I'm sorry Maya. His guards had a death-before-capture instruction. They saw us coming and turned tail, but only when we entered the room did we realize what they'd been doing. The guard slit her throat, then his own. Both were dead when we entered the room."