Chosen: Vik's origin story (Many Lives Prequel Book 2)

by Laxmi Hariharan

  Dodging the overflowing gutters, I step right into the path of a man on a bicycle carrying a basket of vegetables on his head. He swears at me and I get out of his way just in time by plastering my back to the wall of the building. Then, I am through to the other side of the narrow passage. Bursting onto the busy thoroughfare, I step off the footpath onto the road and right into the path of an oncoming black-and-yellow taxicab.

  It screeches to a halt, and its bumper bangs against my knees. Losing my balance, I fall over, hitting my forehead against its bonnet, and I roll over, stunned, to topple over into the middle of the traffic. A truck thunders by, its wide tyres narrowly missing me, the dark smoke from its exhaust filling my face, and even as I cough, I am being pulled to my feet.

  "Do you have a death wish?" I look down into the angry face of the taxi driver. "Or did you decide to just choose my taxi to fall under this morning and spoil my life. You may not care about your family, but I care about mine, you know?"

  The human contact threatens to cut loose any remaining shreds of my self-control. Shaking off his steadying hands, I stagger to the cab. Wrenching open the door to the passenger seat, I slide inside, collapsing diagonally across the cramped space of the rickety Fiat. After a moment's hesitation, he gets back into the driver's seat, shaking his head. He mutters under his breath to himself, but don't pay any attention.

  "Breach Candy …" I gasp. "Take me to Breach Candy."

  37

  Age 23

  It's funny how quickly one adjusts to a new life. Three months ago, if you had asked me who I was, I would have answered, a student, a born-again Englishman, a county batsman, a one-time lover. Now, I am a cop killer.

  One gunshot. That's all it took to reduce a man to dust. Perhaps his soul had stood over us even as I had walked away from the corpse, letting the blood seep into the cracks between the tiles on the dusty floor. I had resisted the urge to look back—a killer's instinct to admire his handiwork. The boy in me had wanted to run away from the scene of my offence. And it wasn't just any offence. It was the murder of a top-ranking official in the heart of the offices of the law enforcement agency of the city. Can I really get away with this?

  It feels like the half-hour journey home takes forever. I sit at the edge of my seat, peering into the driver's rear-view mirror, trying to make out if we are being followed. Any moment I expect to hear the sound of sirens chasing me. Surely I am going to be found out. If not now, then when I go back to enrol with Force One. I push that thought away. First things first—I need to just get home now.

  As the taxi turns off from Pedder Road onto Warden Road, I allow myself to relax a little, only to start when the taxi breaks to a halt.

  In front of us is a bullock cart. As I peer through the dirt-strewn windshield of the cab, the driver of the cart rises to his feet and urges the animals on. He is trying to turn it around, and backs it up right in the path of my taxi, which of course rams into the cart. We jolt to a stop and I hurtle forward hitting my head on the front seat. Wincing, I sit back touching the already forming bump on my forehead. So, here I am, a murderer who gave the police the slip only to meet his end under the wheels of an ox cart.

  There is nothing funny about the situation. Except my sense of humor insists there is. When nothing makes sense anymore, only the twisted begins to seem straight. Leaning over, I pay off the cab driver and walk the rest of the short distance to the apartment on foot. When I turn into the driveway of the apartment block, I heave a sigh of relief. Trying to look nonchalant, I force myself to walk slowly past the group of chattering drivers.

  When I ring the doorbell to the apartment, it clangs through the house. But there is no reply. I ring once more, then I recall that my mother has left to run some errands. Seema has not returned from college yet. There has to be a simple explanation to why they are not yet home. Right?

  I pull out my house keys—I still have them, haven't dropped them—and enter the apartment letting the double doors slam shut behind me. I head straight for my room and into the adjoining bathroom. Opening the tap, I splash lukewarm water over my face, and with the tap running, I look at my dripping face in the mirror. Amber eyes stare back at me, and I am unable to meet my own gaze.

  Pulling off my sweat-sodden shirt, I ball it and throw it in a corner of the bathroom. I should be relieved I managed to pull that off. But all I can think is that if I—an amateur—could walk into the police headquarters and shoot down a top-ranking official then it didn't say much for their security measures. Is this how they had protected my father too? And then it strikes me … did she have my father killed too? No. No. Not possible. Yes, she could do it. She’s capable of it. I feel so goddam helpless. Like I am being backed into a wall, boxed in so tight I can barely breathe. I ram my fist into the mirror, barely noticing the pain spearing out from the point of contact. I did what I had to do. She had promised no harm would come to my family if I did as she ordered. So, why aren't Mum and Seema home yet?

  Please, please, let them be safe, I pray.

  The ring of the doorbell startles me.

  38

  Age 23

  My stomach muscles clench … I am encased in ice. Immobile. I stare at the mirror. In its cracked reflection, I see the fear in my eyes. I don't want to go, don't want to find out what's on the other side of the door. The doorbell again, this time more urgent.

  It's just them returning, yes that's all it is. They'll come through, laughing, Mum clutching her bags of shopping, Seema telling me all about school. Go on take a look. It'll be okay. Water drips down my face and I move without realizing it, putting one foot in front of the other. And then, I am at the door.

  Hands trembling, I pull it open, to be greeted by empty space. I blink in the dull light of the passageway. Then, I look down. There, in front of me, on the floor, are two large cake boxes.

  They are stamped with the unmistakeable font of "The Taj Mahal Palace, Bombay" and the picture of the iconic dome of the Taj Mahal Hotel above it.

  My heart slams against my rib cage as if it is about to leap out, and, blood pounding at my temples, I reach as if in a dream for the first of the boxes. They are big, almost like the hatboxes I have seen at a department store at Oxford, so I struggle with the first as I carry it inside.

  The second is lighter than the first, so light … almost as if there's a soufflé inside. For some reason the thought of the light cloud-like cake rings a bell. Suddenly, I know what it is, and my instinct is screaming, Don't! Don't open it. Back away. Turn around and run away from here. But I stay, and of course I open it. There's a face in the box.

  Her eyes are half-closed; mouth slightly parted so I can see her teeth between her lips. The crooked incisor I'd often teased Seema about. For some reason, that more than anything else brings home the horror of what I am seeing. Do these things even happen in real life? A horrible, choking sensation overwhelms me.

  It's as if an inhuman, supernatural hand has me in its hold, tightening its grip around my neck. The scene in front of me fades, the box receding into the distance. I fall against the door, and hold onto it, supporting myself against it. I am surprised to find my shaking legs still hold me up. I don't want to see what's in the other box. I open the cover. I know it will carry another severed head. I look at it with a kind of macabre fascination … Look away. Look away now. But I can't.

  Apparently, in death a severed head still looks just like a live one.

  I run back to the bathroom, away from those horrible things, away from all that's left of my family and I'm violently sick. My Legs give out from under me and I collapse on the cold white-tiled floor.

  I should have got them out of the country. I should have done more to protect them. I failed. I chose to believe her, and now they are gone and I am going to pay the price for my trust. My stomach heaves once more. I want to move, but my muscles have liquefied. Panic grips me. And as I lie there, ice creeps into my veins. My emotions steel, then cut a path through my thoughts. I cannot let her g
et away with this. I must beat her at her own game. I will avenge my family.

  The Many Lives Universe

  From New York Times bestselling Author Laxmi Hariharan, comes the Many Lives Series.

  In a world full of shifters, vampires and immortals, the Many Lives Series begins in present-day Bombay right before a catastrophic natural disaster destroys much of the city. Embark upon a perilous and epic journey as Ruby Iyer and Vikram Roy uncover the secrets of the city—and the demons of their past.

  The Many Lives Series is an epic paranormal action-romance series that traces the origin and love stories of one woman's illegitimate descendants; all united by the power of her infamous sword.

  Main series

  1.Feral (Maya and Luke's story)

  2.Taken (Jai and Ariana's story)

  3.Book 3 (Leana and Matteo’s story)

  4.Redemption (Mikhail and Leana's story)

  Prequel series

  1.Awakened (Ruby and Vik's story)

  2.Chosen (Vik's origin story)

  3.Origins (Ruby's origin story)

  Join Laxmi’s newsletter and get her starter library free here: http://smarturl.it/Laxmi

  Excerpt from Feral, Many Lives 1

  "The Jonathan Livingston Seagull of Paranormal Romance"

  Synopsis

  MAYA

  He's all I've ever wanted, but I can't possibly let myself love him.

  LUKE

  Loving her means letting her go, knowing she may never come back.

  When your destiny is staring right at you and you just can't see it?

  Maya Iyeroy must find her blood family to discover who she really is. But leaving shifter Luke Cabot means she's walking away from her destined mate. As Maya searches for herself, she uncovers secrets about her past that will change her forever. Can she accept herself and her new place in this world, while still falling in love with the one man she's fated to be with?

  Feral, Synopsis

  Powai Hills, outskirts of Bombay, June 2036

  I've always found it easier to explain my own reactions through science than understand them for what they are: human emotions that spring up when we are faced with something unexpected. It’s one way of coping when you are surrounded by high-emotion hybrids. Half-human, half-wolf hybrids known but not fully understood. Not yet. Like Luke, who always outruns me, but today I feel faster.

  Maybe my legs are getting longer? Maybe... my body is finally changing? If only! More likely he's letting me win. We race through the forest, my feet barely touching the thick moss covered earth, and burst upon a small clearing. I pull ahead just by a hair's breadth, only to stumble, and he crashes into me. We go down in a tangle of arms and legs. Panting, I look up at his wolf form. His rough, furry body is pressing me to the ground, trapping me, surrounding me. I inhale his spicy, cinnamon smell and warmth floods my lower body.

  Wolves are not supposed to have much of a smell, so they can stay undetected while hunting, but this is how Luke’s always smelt to me. Inviting. I want to sink my teeth into him. It's also the first time I’ve seen him this close. Close enough to glimpse the hidden sparks in his silvery-grey eyes. His hot breath sears my cheeks and I freeze, feeling my arousal, sensing his desire. My heart's pounding in my chest so hard I am sure he can hear it too.

  Falling in love is associated with increased energy, speeding pulse, narrowing of mental focus, sweaty palms and lightheadedness.

  That's a 'nice' rational explanation. And it's true. Almost. Except I am not in love with Luke, am I?

  Read Feral, Many Lives 1 here: My Book

  TAKEN, Many Lives 2

  "Love, hate, betrayal AND Shifters, this book has it all"

  "Edge of seat action and sizzling romance. Don't miss this"

  Synopsis

  ARIA

  If I can get out of here alive, I'll never let myself fall victim to them again.

  JAI

  I am sworn to protect this city, but I'll do anything to save her.

  When a promise to save the city means risking your heart…

  Everything in solider-poet Jai Iyeroy's life has led up to his moment. Everyone is counting on him. And he plans to deliver. But when Aria West comes back into his life, he vows to protect her—even if it means breaking his vow to the city. Can Jai find a way to keep his promise while saving the only woman he's ever loved?

  Taken, Excerpt

  Jai stands not four feet away, fists clenched at his side as if controlling himself.

  His eyes rake over my skin, leaving little pinpricks of fire in their wake. The heat spools off him. It crashes over me, curling around me, playing over the tops of my breasts, flowing down my waist, lower still. Tugging at the base of my groin, pulling at me. My mouth goes dry, and the pulse thunders at my throat.

  I can’t breathe.

  Can’t move my eyes from his face either.

  My fingers loosen and the towel slithers over my skin, sliding down my legs, falling around my feet.

  Jai inhales sharply and the chords of his throat move as he swallows. Amber flames spark in his eyes. His jaw hardens as if he’s angry.

  As if he’s made up his mind.

  He takes a step towards me and another and a third, till he’s standing right in front of me.

  Heat plumes off him again and I can smell him now. The bittersweet smell that makes my mouth water. Goosebumps erupt on my skin and I resist the temptation of winding my arms around my waist to cover myself.

  He leans down, his head coming towards me and I lift my own. I close my eyes.

  I want this. I want him. Want the sight of him to wipe away everything I’ve seen in the Jungle on the sea journey to get to Bombay, one which I’d been sure I wouldn’t survive. And before that. Before my father was killed, before we’d lost our home. I push that away too.

  I am here.

  Alive.

  And I can feel him.

  Can sense the life coursing through his veins. The desire coming off him in waves. He’s turned on. I know that. I can feel his arousal. And I want to surrender. I want to bury my nose in his chest and smell him, take him in, fill myself with him and…

  He drapes the towel around me, over my arms, knotting it above my breasts. The tips of his fingers brush my skin and I shiver, not opening my eyes. I inhale sharply, my cheeks flushing.

  He still doesn’t move.

  His gaze burns a path over my skin, leaving flickers of fire in their wake. The heat from him is overpowering, swirling around me, a living connection. Dense. Heavy. So real I can reach out and touch it, sink into it.

  And still he stays motionless.

  He’s not going to kiss me or touch me again.

  Heat drenches me and I want to die of mortification. I curse myself again, bite the inside of my cheeks, when…a soft touch as if he’s brushed his lips over mine. My eyes fly open but already he’s moving away, towards the bedroom door, shutting it softly behind him…

  My knees tremble, almost giving way under me. Pulling my hands free I unwrap the towel and hobble to the bed. To where he’s laid out a fresh set of clothes. His clothes. Slipping into the too large shorts and T-shirt, I knot a belt around my waist, winding it around twice before cinching it in.

  I hobble to the living room to find him standing by the window looking out.

  ‘Why?’ I ask.

  The sound whispers over the rawness in my throat, every breath feeling as if it’s scraping against sandpaper.

  He doesn’t turn, doesn’t acknowledge me. His back is ramrod straight and even without seeing his eyes I know the soldier in him is back. He’s put those barriers up between us and now I’ll never be able to get through to him again.

  ‘Why, Jai?’

  Why did you kiss me?

  Why did you walk away from me just now?

  When he still doesn’t say anything, a flash of anger ignites. Without realizing it, I move forward and am halfway across the room when he turns and asks, ‘Why what?’ His voice is casual, his
eyes shuttered. He leans back against the wall, his hip thrust out slightly, indolent, as if he doesn’t care that I’m here with him in this room.

  I know he does care.

  He must.

  Ignoring the burn from my wounded leg, I take the few steps forward to bridge the space between us till I’m right in front of him. Almost touching. Close enough to see the amber sparks swirl in his eyes. I know then that he’s not as unaffected as he’d like to pretend.

  Read TAKEN free on KU here: My Book

  Awakened, Many Lives 0

  "Laxmi hooks you with a twist like M Night"

  Synopsis

  RUBY

  All I have to do is save my friend, save my city, and save my soul. Piece of cake.

  VIKRAM

  She's hell bent on saving everyone, but I just want to protect her.

  Can they save their city while losing their hearts along the way?

  Armed with the sword of her ancestors, a weapon most would kill for, Ruby Iyer is determined to save her city. Teaming up with the sexy, irresistible, rogue cop, Vik Roy, is the only way to succeed. As they embark upon a perilous journey, they realize their enemies are closer than they think. And when the chemistry finally ignites, neither can deny the desire for each other.