The Hand of Kali Box Set (Books 1-3)

by T. G. Ayer

As Maya turned away from the Gupta's darkened doorstep, her heart felt like a stone in her chest. She knew deep down she'd never be able to accept Ria had just given up and agreed to an arranged marriage to escape her father. Maya had agreed to support Ria despite her gut feeling about Viren. But why did it all seem so wrong? Why did it feel like Maya was the one doing the wrong thing?

  She thought of her own parents. Would they ever impose a marriage on Maya? Force her to marry someone she didn’t love? Maya blinked away the tears. No. They wouldn’t. They'd always been understanding and patient with her, even when she’d thrown their faith back in their faces. She’d denied to them and to herself that the gods ever existed.

  And now, today, she knew she’d been wrong all along. It did seem surreal. Everything she’d been through in the last few days seemed like a rather tragic, dramatic dream. But it had been real.

  She even felt like a different person. More aware. More accepting. More trusting. She trusted Nik and even Chayya and Yama and Kali too. She even trusted her powers, believed in them. But her trust didn't extend to Viren. Not when he'd warned her off with those cold hard eyes.

  She’d made the choices that brought her here today. And her choice for Ria was bittersweet. She’d saved her friend from death. Had given her a second chance. Only to find Ria about to be imprisoned in an arranged marriage, and no matter what Ria tried to say she hadn't been able to convince Maya the choice had been wholly, happily hers to make.

  Maya descended the steps, her throat tight, tears singeing her eyes.

  "Are you okay, Maya?" A disembodied voice spoke close to her, warmth of his breath kissing her cheek and making her smile.

  "Yes, you can become visible now if you don't mind."

  Nik shimmered into existence beside her, keeping pace as they walked the few blocks back to Maya's house.

  "To answer your question, no, I'm not okay but I'll get over it." Tears tightened Maya's throat. “Ria is getting married. He's a doctor. Viren Sen. And it's an arranged marriage. Not that I'm abandoning her, but I can’t believe she gave in. After everything she’d been through with them she just allowed her father to control her even more. And now, Viren will be in control of her for the rest of her life. And she’s happy to be with him. Is she really that blind?”

  “Sometimes duty does blind us to reality. Perhaps it is a road she is meant to travel. Perhaps it is part of her destiny to experience the life her husband has offered her. Things happen in strange and mysterious ways sometimes.” Maya sighed. Nik’s words had a truth to it she couldn’t deny. Then he chuckled. "Well, I can tell you one thing," Nik looked over at her and grinned, "Life will never be the same again for Maya Rao."

  Maya snorted. "Yeah, tell me about it."

  "But you do have a bunch of people looking out for you, you know?" Maya met Nik's gaze, eyebrows raised in question. "Your parents, Claudia, Kali, Chayya, even Varuni said to send you her eternal gratitude. And you have two boons from the God of the Underworld."

  "One boon," Maya reminded him with a grin.

  "Oh, yes, one boon." Nik nodded, his dark locks falling over his forehead. "And there is one more thing you do have."

  "What’s that?" Maya's voice was soft as the question left her lips.

  Nik linked his fingers with hers, warm skin entwined with warm skin setting off a million tiny sparks. "You have me."

  * * *

  ~ TO BE CONTINUED ~

  Thank you for reading. The Hand of Kali Series continues with Blood & Gold.

  Acknowledgments

  Fire is a labor of love. It explores parts of Hindu mythology that even I was entranced to discover. I hope you have as much fun reading this book as I did writing it

  It took a long time to finish Fire. Not that it was a difficult task, but that it was peppered with hospital stays and parts of it were actually written while I was on morphine. I will admit it is interesting what a writer can produce on a drug-induced high. Personally, I wouldn't recommend it ;)

  To Cassie Hart, Leigh K Hunt, Melissa Pearl & Brenda Howsen. The Inklings- our amazing writing group who are always there for me no matter what. You chicks rule!

  To Annetta Ribken – thank you for your fine editing skillz.

  To my fab family. Mum & Dad, Vin and Namo. Thank you for picking and dropping my offsrping, for delivering food to my door when I so needed it, and for peppering my mindless work (and pain) with much needed laughter.

  To Sel, Dharsh and Dhivs. I could never thank you enough.

  To Eduardo Priego- for you amazing cover art for Fire.

  To Patti Larsen. Dearest friend - for being willing to drop everything to help little old me.

  Copyright

  tgayer.com

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  FIRE & SHADOW

  A HAND OF KALI NOVEL BOOK 1

  Copyright © 2013 by T.G. Ayer

  All rights reserved.

  Cover art by T.G. Ayer

  Cover art © T.G. Ayer. All rights reserved.

  Edited by Annetta Ribken

  Kindle Edition, License Notes

  This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This eBook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person. If you are reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Amazon.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, places, businesses, characters and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, actual events or locales is purely coincidental.

  Hand of Kali 2 - Blood & Gold

  Authors Note

  Hindu Mythology is a living religion.

  Like, Christianity, Islam, Judaism & Buddhism, Hinduism has millions of followers around the world. Fiction featuring Hindu gods is not merely a matter of choosing a god, and placing them in a fictional situation, mainly because you risk offending that deities devout worshippers. Unlike the Greek, Roman, Egyptian & Norse Pantheon, Hindu & Buddhist gods must be treated with the utmost respect in any fiction. I hope I have maintained this ethic within my series.

  I have tried to maintain as much respect as possible while still using fiction to both entertain and educate the reader. The Kali series is filled with details of the various deities currently worshipped across the world.

  Some rituals and powers are fiction, of course.

  There is much in the Kali series that is part of my own journey in life. I hope my travels in India have lent some level of authenticity to the Indian scenes.

  Some of the gods featuring in this series, like Chayya and Bhumi, are ones who are not currently as popular. They are still worshipped, but belong to the older generation of gods, which would explain why not every Hindu reader would be familiar with them.

  Demons, Zombies, Undead & other creatures and spirits are as per mythology texts and are available online to research.

  Much of how to eliminate these creatures is anecdotal & fictional. Sorry guys, if you come across a Vitala, you’re on your own.

  Chapter 1

  Darkness and shadows bled into the fiery twilight sky, while a fat line of blood red sat ominously on the distant horizon.

  Maya sighed.

  She was beginning to regret tagging along on this round of her parents' client visits. What had come over her to offer to accompany them? Worse, she couldn't believe they actually agreed to bring her along. But then again, this was exactly the type of thing they would want – for Maya to get more involved in whatever it was that the Kali followers got up to. She'd been curious. Now, something told her she would probably be paying for that curiosity soon enough.

  The call had come through not half an hour ago and they were already on the move. The information her dad received had seemed a bit
mysterious and strange. A name and address given, a brief history told and Dev and his wife were expected to go rushing off to attend to the matter. He'd briefly explained what he could to Maya so she was guessing he wouldn't know the finer details of the situation was until he got there. Maya glared out the window at the closely built homes. Not a supremely affluent area, but not poor either.

  They drew up in front of a small two story house. Although brightly lit, the building was blanketed by an almost tangible somberness. No sounds emanated from the house, no music, no voices. Just silence.

  Someone had died.

  Maya's stomach twisted. She'd known it was a funeral they were attending, and she'd still agreed to come. What had come over her? She hated funerals. All the sadness, and the awkward conversations that usually meant nothing to either party. People milling around smiling blank smiles and offering blank commiserations. The few funerals Maya had attended in her time had been excruciating for her. And here she was willingly attending another one.

  They parked a few doors down after driving up and down the block looking for a spot. Cars filled the street and had even flowed onto the side road. The number of vehicles were at odds with the silence emanating from the house. Something else that creeped Maya out.

  She followed her parents up the drive, fiddling with the long chiffon scarf around her neck. She smoothed down the dress of the salwar kameez she wore, another reminder of things she hadn't liked doing. In the past she hadn't been a keen wearer of all things Indian. Give her a jeans and teeshirt and she was a happy girl.

  But her stint in Patala had given her a little more appreciation for the attire after having been forced to fight in the garments. Today what she wore was boring compared to the jewel-encrusted skirts and blouses she'd worn in the Underworld not so long ago.

  Dev knocked on the door, two raps so soft Maya wondered if anyone would even hear it. But only seconds later a woman opened the door. Her make-up-free face was lined, almost haggard, the red dot on her forehead smeared slightly, as if she'd just rubbed her brow without realizing it. Her hair was held away from her face in a serious bun, not a single strand escaping the knot at the base of her head. She wore no jewelry, and her sari was the statutory white, unadorned by either color or sparkle.

  Maya's father introduced himself and it seemed that was all she needed to let them in. Maya watched her but the old woman's tear-swollen gaze returned to the floor as she stepped aside, allowing them to enter. She shut the door softly and waited while they removed their shoes and placed them next to the dozens of pairs already occupying the floor of the entrance hall.

  Once they were ready the woman turned, pulled the length of her sari tighter around her and led them deeper into the silent house. Maya followed her parents as sedately and quietly as she could. She kept her eyes downcast, forcing herself not to look around. But despite her demure behavior she managed to get a good sense of the place.

  The air hung thick with smoke, and from somewhere inside the house rose the cloying smell of frankincense. Maya's throat closed. There wasn't anything wrong with frankincense. In fact, Maya had always liked the smell – associated it mostly with babies. People burned a lot of frankincense when babies were born. It was just that this place held such a sense of foreboding that Maya's bones hurt. The whole building seemed to bear down on her, but even though she wanted to turn and run she continued to play the dutiful daughter and followed her parents in silence.

  They were on the job and she was curious what the job actually was. For the first time she would see her parents in action, doing whatever they did as Kali followers. They'd responded to the call from the family – people in need of their help. So her parents must have a reputation of helping those who needed their kind of help. She hadn't thought of that.

  The pall of mourning clung to the house, clung to the people the deceased had left behind. The family had lost their daughter-in-law three months ago. She had died in childbirth but strange things were happening and the family was concerned that the girl had returned and was haunting them.

  In the car on the way there, Maya's mom had explained how a pregnant woman, unhappy or ill treated by her family, could often return after death and wreak vengeance if she dies in childbirth. This kind of spirit was called a Churel. Maya shuddered at the thought. She'd always thought these types of stories belonged in horror movies and not in real life. And today Maya was here to see the vengeful spirit in action. She blinked, surprised to discover that her parents were the equivalent of supernatural hunters. The purpose of the Kali followers had just risen in her estimation.

  The sounds of soft crying and hushed sobs filtered through the house and Maya cringed. She hated funerals and death and anything to do with crying and consoling the grieving. She breathed deep. She'd killed demons, surely she can handle normal humans.

  She tried to calm herself as they were ushered into a large furniture-less room, thick with smoke. A picture window on the right wall sat wide open to help the dense air filter out. Not that it helped. Maya's eyes stung as she glanced around at the sea of people seated before her.

  The old woman took a small path that ran through the crowd and Maya and her parents followed. It seemed all the members of the family had gathered within this one room concentrating their fear and worry and grief into an almost living thing. The path led to the center of the room where the body of a man was laid out on on a pallet, wrapped in white fabric.

  The man's face was deeply lined and wrinkled, the skin papery thin and mottled with age-spots, and sagging at the throat .The hands crossed at his chest were gnarled and twisted with age and arthritis. He was ancient. And he was so painfully thin, as if someone or something had sucked the flesh right out of him.

  A hush fell over the room as the Raos reached the body. The sniffling and crying came to a stop as the gathered family watched them. The air seemed filled with expectation. And Maya didn't like it. Dev and Leela knelt beside the shriveled corpse. Maya wasn't entirely sure what to do with herself. Should she kneel too? In the end she just stood behind them and watched.

  Her dad turned to speak to the old woman – who Maya now assumed was probably an important female in the house. A mother or grandmother maybe. Maya studied her a little closer, knowing the family suspected they were being haunted by their dead daughter-in-law. If that was the case, had this old woman been party to the mistreatment of the girl?

  Dev was still speaking to the old woman and Maya heard the soft, hushed words as he asked her, "Is it okay to check?" His tone was somber but it wasn't a question. The old woman's eyes widened and she glanced over at another older man seated on the other side of the corpse. He gave a small almost haughty nod, his pale brown eyes regarding them coldly, and the woman turned to Maya's father and nodded too.

  Maya's heart gave a little twist as if some precognition told her that what her dad was about to do would surely upset a few people. He bent closer to the corpse and moved some yellow and orange flowers away from the old man's neck. His movements were slow and respectful as he unbuttoned the man's shirt and pulled the collar forward. A low gasp ran around the room, the gathered mourners unhappy with Dev's desecration. But despite their unhappiness nobody moved to stop him.

  Dev leaned forward, and Maya's could tell even from his profile that he didn't like what he saw. He nodded to himself then motioned for Leela and Maya to come forward, to see what he saw. Maya tipped her head forward and blinked at the sight.

  A single puncture wound sat near the jugular. It looked raw and red and even in death it seemed ready to bleed. Maya swallowed as bile rose in her throat. She wanted to breathe but all she would inhale would be smoke and the dead man's odor, so instead she held her breath.

  Maya shook herself. She really shouldn't feel disgusted by the sight. She'd seen worse. The sight of dying demons were definitely worse. Even the smell of the Rakshasa, living or dying, was worse than the odor of the sad room filled with sad people. A few moments later, and after Dev had retur
ned the dead man's garments to their former status, Maya's parents rose and nodded at the old woman. Dev bent to her and again spoke in her ear. Then he turned and motioned for Maya and her mom to leave.

  They maneuvered through the crowd and Maya felt the stares on the back of her neck, felt every eye on the curved of her spine as she passed. She shuddered but kept the movement delicate. In the front hall they found their shoes and left the house unimpeded. Once outside, Maya gulped the fresh night air, relieved to have smoke-free lungs again.

  Then she turned to her father, not liking the sober expression on his face. "Now what?"

  "Now, we go to the grave," he said. He spoke so matter-of-factly that Maya thought at first she'd misheard him. But his face said otherwise.

  "Are you serious?" she asked, her brow creasing with a frown. She pulled her chiffon shawl closer around her, not that the action would have relieved the sudden chill that had run up her spine.

  Dev nodded. His lip curled as he glanced at her, clearly amused by her trepidation. "Yes, there are a few things we can do to bind the Churel. We need to stop her before she moves on to the next man in the household."

  Maya frowned as they climbed into the car, her thoughts still with the shriveled corpse of a dead man. "How old was he?" she asked as she shut her door and drew her seatbelt around her.

  "Eighteen," said her mom from up front, the streetlight giving her a pale, ghostly countenance. "He was the youngest son. The Churel habitually begins with the youngest and then moves upward. They must not have treated her very well at all. The worse the treatment, the more vengeful the Churel is. The angrier she is, the harder it is to stop her." Leela's voice was grave and her eyes a little far away as her thoughts seemed to remain on the abused girl.