Legends of the Damned: A Collection of Edgy Urban Fantasy and Paranormal Romance Novels

by Lindsey R. Loucks

  In reply, the older man turns and walks away inside.

  Jai follows him into the gloomy interior, waiting as he lights a small gasoline lamp. There’s no electricity here at the camp, of course. The Council doesn’t believe in providing such "luxuries" for refugees.

  He stands at the far end next to a small window. The wall is bare, save for a cracked mirror. It’s hung low enough for someone short – of Aria’s height – to see their reflection. Jai wants to ask the man dozens of questions about who he is, where Aria is. But something in the older guy’s stance holds him back.

  So he clamps down on his thoughts and waits. His eyes are drawn back to the man and he takes in his clothes. A long white cotton shirt worn over slim-fitting skinny trousers and open-toed sandals. A sudden doubt strikes Jai.

  "Who are you?" he asks, his voice urgent.

  "Aki," the old man replies.

  "Aki?" Jai’s brow furrows.

  Where has he heard of him? Why is his name so familiar?

  Aki?

  "You taught me sword-fighting at the school for new recruits," he recalls.

  Aki’s brow clears and one side of his lips lifts in a smile. "You remember?"

  "Yes, you just look a little different. Older."

  "You look older too." Aki tilts his head, a twinkle coming into his eyes.

  "Where is she?" Jai asks again, letting the urgency show in his voice.

  He can trust Aki.

  He can, right?

  "She’s gone," Aki says.

  Pushing away from the wall, Jai asks, "What do you mean, gone?"

  "She left this for you." He hands Jai a letter.

  "She left it?" Jai bursts out. "How could she—"

  "Read it," Aki says and walks out of the little space.

  Walking to the light of the sole lamp in the cramped room, Jai opens the letter.

  Jai,

  Don’t look for me. London may not be the "shining new hopeful" world of the East. But at least it’s home. It’s time for me to stop running.

  - Ariana

  Jai crumples the letter and walks out to where the silver light of dawn washes over Aki’s shoulders. It bathes him in an unearthly glow. He looks like a ghost or a God. Jai blinks.

  The illusion passes and he’s a man again.

  "What does this mean?" Jai asks, his voice unsteady. "What is she not telling me?"

  When Aki doesn’t reply he persists, "I need to know." Jai swallows the lump in his throat. It’s as if a part of him has been cut away.

  What had he expected? That she’d still be here, waiting for him? Waiting for him to rescue her? After he had told her to leave, thrown her to these beasts, asked her to fend for herself.

  "I’m going after her," Jai curses and turns away, only for a hand on his shoulder to stop him.

  He turns to look into Aki’s knowing eyes, wise eyes that have seen a lot. Those all-knowing eyes which know much more than they are revealing. And in them he sees sympathy and understanding

  "Why?" Jai whispers. "Why didn’t she wait?"

  "Would you have gone against your father, your city? Would you have stepped aside from your duty to your mother?" Aki asks, his voice calm.

  The answer is clear in Jai’s silence. Turning, he slams his fist into the wall of the hut, driving his hand right thorough it. The hut promptly collapses. No other sound now, except for the rain that still slams against the roof-tiles.

  No man should have to choose between his promise to a dead mother and his future. But he had. He’d chosen to let her go. And now he’s going to spend the rest of his life regretting it. Shrugging off the old man’s hand, he walks away.

  "Jai." Aki’s voice stops him.

  He pauses but doesn’t turn around.

  "This is not the end, Jai. You’ll find out more. Get your answers when the time is right."

  By then it will be too late.

  It’s already too late for him.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Vishal turns from the window and smashes his glass against the wall on the far side. But it brings little relief.

  Besides, breaking a glass of juice is just not as satisfying as breaking a glass filled with whiskey.

  What he wouldn’t give for a drink just now.

  And yet, since Ruby’s death, he’s become a teetotaler.

  Alcohol had only fed the pain of separation after her death. Instead of dulling his senses it seemed to bring everything into sharp focus. Every single memory of her laid raw, scrolling through his mind’s eye. It only sharpened the feeling of loss, rubbing it in. Letting him know that in death she had dealt him a final blow.

  There was no second chance with her.

  And he’d known he couldn’t go on like that anymore. Spending his days and nights in a drunken haze that had still left them on edge. Too aware of his own thoughts.

  So he’d gone cold turkey on the booze. Taken up weights and the rush of endorphins instead.

  A better way to work off his frustrations, also making him stronger. He’s fitter than Vik, that much he can take solace in.

  His only other consolation – that now Ruby didn’t belong to Vik either. And yet in death she’d brought them together in a way she could never have when she’d lived. Leaving Vik and Vishal with something in common. A link. A shared memory.

  "Done with your meltdown, uncle?" The voice taunts, cuts through his thoughts. It’s so familiar that for a second he starts as if he’s heard a ghost.

  She sounds so like her. Like it’s Ruby come to life, walked out of her funeral pyre alive, not a hair on her head harmed.

  But she’s not a ghost, not this one.

  The girl learning against the bookcase on the far side of the room pushes away from it, book in hand. Walking over to an armchair diagonally opposite from where he’s standing, she slides into it. Her lithe body moving sideways until she’s draped across it, long, jeans-clad legs swinging.

  A sense of déjà vu washes over Vishal.

  Ruby right here in his home, in that exact same spot, legs swinging, taunting him about their ongoing rivalry.

  Making it clear that Vik was her chosen one but that yeah, she would always be fond of Vishal. After all it was thanks to him that the three of them made it out of the immediate aftermath of the tsunami alive.

  "General?" The girl’s voice brings him back to the present.

  "So why are you doing it?" he asks, folding his hands over his chest. "They are your immediate family, why would you go against them?"

  "You are my family too, aren’t you?" she says, her voice calm, a hint of a smile in them.

  He nods. Once.

  His gut twists at her words. In another life, another time, she could have been his and Ruby’s daughter.

  But she’s not.

  And then she tilts her head, and the light from the window catches her eyes. And he freezes.

  No, she’s Vik’s daughter. Those eyes. Amber eyes glowing. Like Vik. Like his son.

  Yeah, she is his daughter first and Vishal’s niece later. And the only one who can help him now.

  Oh! Jai has been trying hard the last few years to win him over. And he had almost fooled Vishal into believing they were on the same side. That Jai would help him in his plans.

  But then Jai would say or do something which would give away just how much like Vik he was. And Vishal knew there was no way this nephew of his was going to see things the way he did.

  Besides, it was Jai who'd charmed Aria into leaving without the sword. That he’s sure of. The bitch had run away.

  And he’d spent the last few years cursing himself for missing that opportunity. If he had only got his hands on Aria, he knew Jai would have done anything to save her. It was the only reason Jai would have gone against the promise he’d made to Ruby.

  He’d almost given up hope then of realizing his ambition to rule the West. Until Maya came along.

  Now Vishal looks at his future in her amber eyes, which stare back. Then she blinks and
slides back to her feet. Gliding towards him in that half-animal like walk that hints at her upbringing. And that mirage is broken too.

  She may have come from Vik and Ruby, but she's a human brought up by shifters.

  "Why?" he asks again. "Why would you do this?"

  She glides towards him, stopping less than an inch away. Close enough for him to see the smattering of freckles across her face. Close enough that when she leans in, her nipples rub across his chest and that illusion of innocence shatters.

  A quick intake of breath and he steps back. The shock a painful fist to his gut.

  And it isn’t because she’s turned him on with that light brushing against him. It’s more that he couldn’t have predicted his reaction to her. That he wants to bury himself in her youth even now. Drown himself in the seductive echoes of the past that she carries within.

  She’s Ruby’s daughter.

  And that’s why you want her. Her replacement.

  She’s your niece.

  She’s hybrid. A shifter.

  He’s convinced of that now, that she’s more beast than human. And with that any guilt of using her to get what he wants falls away. His mind clears and he backs off, his hands held up.

  "Let’s keep this business, shall we?" he says, trying to sound like the General he is and cursing a little when his voice still wavers at the end.

  She raises her eyebrows, a smirk curving those lips for a second. She bares her teeth once. Feral. A low growl rumbles up. And that makes him look for his gun. The one he’s placed on the table by the window.

  "Relax, old man," she drawls. "You’re not my type. Was testing you is all."

  Vishal clears his throat.

  But before he can say anything more she says, "Why do I help, you ask? It’s because we’re not so different you and I. We’re both on the outside, looking in. Seeing this family as they survive, thrive, get what we’ll never have. Love, a family. A home." She pauses, her voice stark with emotion. "They belong. We don’t."

  For a second he glimpses a vulnerability that reminds him of how he’d been the day Vik’s mother had decided she couldn’t have him in her house anymore.

  Then that fades too.

  And all there is now is the two of them. United in purpose. By blood. By family ties they are willing to sacrifice. One for power. The other for…?

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  London, three years later

  When do you stop thinking of younger siblings as "immature?" Is it when they show flashes of insight that make you realize they see more than you give them credit for?

  Lily stares at me from across the breakfast nook in the tiny lower ground room we’ve been given by the rebels.

  She’d been only ten on the trip back from Bombay. And perhaps it was because she’d been that young did she find it easier to accept our new identity of being refugees on the run. A reality which wouldn’t change anytime soon.

  Not since the government had declared civil war four years ago. Thousands had lost their lives as the armed forces loyal to the Prime Minister and the rebels who opposed his authoritarian rule battled each other.

  Millions had been forced out of their homes. Many made their way to the more prosperous countries of the East. Indostan, with its economic boom, and the newly rebuilt city of Bombay in particular, had been a favored destination. Of course no one knew the reality of what awaited them on the other side.

  Not many survive the journey to the East.

  Fewer made it back.

  Yeah, I’m one of the lucky ones all right.

  A shudder runs through me thinking about it and I clench my fists at my side.

  The involuntary gesture has Lily coming around and hugging me.

  She’s younger, wiser than me. She knows that the thoughts of revenge which often occupy me are also futile to indulge in. Thoughts that sap me of energy, of my optimism, turning me into the lifeless shell I’m fast becoming.

  Emotionless.

  Just like him.

  "You haven’t even finished your breakfast," she says.

  "Yeah, just too tasty for me," I say in a droll voice.

  Both of us look at the gray-brown oatmeal on the table in front of us and burst out laughing. The slimy paste tastes bland at best and like thick, uncooked sludge at worst. But we’re fortunate to get it, that we don’t have to forage for our own food. Yet.

  It’s also the one meal that will sustain me through the heavy sword and combat practice sessions during the day.

  The smile lights up Lily’s face, her light gray eyes shimmering with mirth. She’s filled out since we returned from Bombay. Her skin which had turned almost mahogany in the sun has lost its burnt edge. Under the cooler New London skies, it’s turned a honey-gold color which has stayed.

  Just like his eyes. Amber eyes.

  Lily looks different from the hollow-eyed kid I knew in the Jungle. A kid who even then never panicked. Not when I had been taken to the General, nor when the shifters had kept her captive. Not even when I’d sprung her out of that hut in the Jungle and we’d made it to the ship and out of the city before dawn the next day.

  In short, I managed to put physical distance from Bombay, from the Jungle, but not from the memories, which have only grown stronger with time.

  "You’re already late." Lily’s voice cuts through my thoughts. And I try hard not to grin at the scolding I sense is coming on.

  "Thanks for pointing out the obvious, Granny," I say, still dawdling at the table.

  "You don’t want to go do you?" she says again, displaying that flash of street-smart wisdom I’m still not used to. "You’re thinking of him," she scolds.

  I’m always thinking of him.

  Three years and even now his touch lingers on my skin. Comes back to haunt me in my sleep. Even now a whiff of cinnamon transports me back to his home. By the sea. But Jai has pushed me away, turned his back on me.

  "No, I am not," I protest.

  "You know he’s thinking of you too," she says, her voice soft, so all-knowing, so convincing that for a second I almost believe her. Almost.

  Then the moment of brightness inside fades away to be replaced by gray. Gray skies like the ones outside the window. Drizzling with the ever-present rain that marks this city.

  I hug her in reply and she throws her arms around my neck, squeezing me with all the love of a younger sister.

  "Come on," I say, my voice muffled against her heavy dark hair. "Let’s leave before Mikhail sends out a search party for me."

  One last hug before she reaches for her jacket.

  By the time I pull on my own, zipping it up, she’s already at the door, skipping from one leg to the other, ready to go. Ready to be a little girl again.

  "I’ve never seen anyone so happy to go to school." I resist the urge to roll my eyes.

  "I’ve never seen anyone so reluctant to go to work." She grins back.

  In that instant love for her wells up. A simple emotion, nurturing, washing away the confusion that often comes with thinking of Jai.

  We head out, towards her school. It's run by the rebels; at the ramshackle community center not far from our home.

  "Aria, you’re late." The rebel leader’s voice scolds me when I walk into the designated planning room of the crumbling building at Mile End. The brief thirty-minute walk has swept the last thoughts of the Jungle from my head. Crumpling my emotions into a corner of my mind, I walk through the foyer, not noticing the broken ceiling beams that dominate the once-impressive dining room. Taking my place at one end of the long table, now riddled with sword marks, I stay quiet.

  Mikhail should know by now that I’m not going to apologize for anything. I don’t care for the rules of the rebel team. I’d have never joined them if it hadn’t been for Lily.

  But they’d assured me that if anything were to happen to me they’d take her into the growing pool of orphans that they cared for. Mikhail is good that way. He loves the kids, will protect them at any cost. So yeah, I’m gratef
ul to him for giving Lily a shot at a future.

  "So what did you think of our plan?"

  He drums his fingers on the table and the vibrations travel down the table towards me. His silver-green eyes glitter against the dark bronze of his skin.

  The power in those shoulders is unmistakable. Coiled, like a resting snake. Mikhail at rest is only a couple of degrees less lethal than Mikhail in action. It makes me wary.

  Almost as wary as the moody, lurking energy of someone else. Thoughts of Jai crowd in again and I shove them away. He’d done it, pushed me away. So why am I not able to forget him?

  Feeling an urge to wring my hands, I instead lock my fingers together, clasping them tight in front of me.

  "Well?" Mikhail’s voice cuts through my thoughts. An edge of impatience sharpens them.

  "You underestimate the Indus team if you think they’ll just fall in line," I say.

  Mikhail clasps his palms together on the table. "Elaborate," he says in a cool voice.

  I run my hand through my hair, trying to make sense of my thoughts. "They may not be as battle experienced as you are but they are master manipulators. Especially the uncle."

  "You mean the General? Vishal?" he asks, not sounding surprised.

  I wince on hearing that name.

  When I don’t reply, the silence stretches.

  I look away, out of the window at the far end of the room, at the gray light fading outside. I’ll have to tell them. Now that I’ve started this line of conversation I don’t have a choice but to share everything.

  I try to speak but have trouble forming the words.

  I am very aware that whatever I say or do now will hurt Jai. As long as he’s a Guardian of Bombay, he’s on the opposite side. Hated almost as much as the PM and his policies.

  He let you go.

  Why do you still defend him? Worry about him?

  "What do you mean?" Mikhail’s cold voice cuts through my thoughts. His tone brooks no argument.

  He knows my information can make all the difference in the mission we are about to embark on.

  "Your sister’s life depends on your telling us everything you know," he adds, his voice colorless.