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

by T. G. Ayer

  Although the words had made sense, there was a serious disconnect when Maya tried to weigh them against the loss of the boy, against the loss of the lives of all those girls.

  They'd arrived home not two hours ago and Maya had decided it was time to call Kali. The visions, and her ability to see what was happening through Priya's eyes, they were two things that Maya shouldn't have been able to do. That particular talent had nothing to do with blood or fire.

  Kali had some explaining to do.

  Maya sat up on her mattress, and reached over to open her rucksack. Within a side pocket, beside Chayya's brass pot sat the Kapala. A shudder ran through Maya as she placed it in her palm and removed camphor and frankincense.

  She scrabbled inside her night-stand drawer for a safety pin. Ready, she pricked her finger, then waited for the bead of blood to swell. She wiped it off inside the bottom of the skull-bowl, then lit the camphor and the sambrani in close succession.

  All done, she placed the smoking skull on her nightstand, and waited.

  The room filled with the pungent sweet woody scent of the resin, and Maya unconsciously took a deep breath. She'd always loved the smell of frankincense, and having an excuse to light some now was a rare pleasure.

  Only problem was the smell now took her back to that awful hut outside of Budapest. Maya pulled free from the dark memories and watched as the smoke rose, curling around and around as it reached the ceiling and disappeared into nothing.

  Strange, there were no complicated prayers to perform, no Sanskrit chants, no convoluted rituals, no transcendental trances that would call the gods to Maya.

  She simply had to ask.

  Now, as she waited for Kali to arrive, she wondered what it would be like to recall her previous lifetime as the revered Mother Radha.

  Her parents had often expressed a deep love and reverence for the Mother, and it was always hard for Maya to reconcile the fact that they were essentially talking about her.

  But it was a bit of a leap of faith for Maya to accept she was one and the same as Radha. Maybe the day would come when she would believe she deserved that comparison, but right now she couldn't see the past even if her life depended on it.

  With another soft sigh she got to her feet and pulled on a pair of worn sweats that bore the marks of numerous training sessions; a sprinkling of holes, edges hardened where the polyester had melted, a smattering of rips made by daggers and swords.

  Slipping on socks and sneakers, she grabbed a hair band as she headed out the door. She dragged her thick locks into the confines of the elastic band as she entered the garage, the only place she was allowed to use for training. She was well overdue for a training session and her bout with Priya and her demon horde didn't count. Not as far as she was concerned. If she really had to think about it, she'd say it had been too damn easy.

  Sure, she'd gotten injured in the process, but the wound had already knitted together. Maya slipped a hand beneath her shirt and ran her fingertips over the ridged scar. As soon as they'd returned to the hotel, Maya had sent small bursts of heat to the wound, hoping to ensure it didn't get infected. But, when Claudia had insisted on taking a closer look, they'd both been shocked to discover that the gash in her side was no longer a raw, bleeding mess.

  The edges had come together, the wound had sealed itself, and a thin scab had already begun to form. Maya sighed and left the wound alone, more so because touching it brought Stefan to mind. Refusing to speak to his parents when they'd come by to the hotel had been cowardly, but, though Claudia had suggested it would be good to have the Hand of Kali console them, the last thing Maya wanted to do was face the parents of the boy she'd let die.

  And that wasn't the least of her worries. She still hadn't heard from Nik, and because of Priya's confidence, Maya had a knot in her stomach that leaned toward believing what the demoness had to say. But Maya refused to dwell on it. Just the possibility of having Nik gone forever would mess with her concentration.

  Now, she touched the pendant at her neck, a part of her hesitant to call him. He'd told her to, but she didn't want to be a burden. Only, Priya's claims bugged her far too much for her to worry about it.

  Right now, all that mattered was that he was okay.

  Maya gripped the pendant within her palm and thought of Nik, sending him her thoughts and asking him if he was okay. That was all she knew to do, so she tucked the necklace inside her shirt and hoped she'd done it right.

  Gritting her teeth, she took a place in the center of the room. She pulled her iPod out of her pocket, and a few taps later she had her playlist going. Then she stuck her earbuds in her ears before tucking the player deep within her pocket.

  The music was soft rock, with a heavy base and a good dose of dramatic in places, the kind of sound Maya enjoyed when she wanted to block the world out. She grinned as she wondered what the goddess Kali would think of her taste in music. This was certainly no Hanuman Chalisa. And as the Hand of Kali, surely she would be expected to uplift her culture first?

  With a shrug, Maya softened her knees and settled into a comfortable pose. She turned on her heel, and faced the back wall, drawing deep inside, reaching for her fire energy, pulling it swiftly to the surface. Aiming at the metal-lined wall, Maya blasted it with ball after simmering ball, supremely glad that her dad had covered the walls with a metal that absorbed the heat from the flames. Glad because her fury, and her grief, only fueled the fire, bringing the fireballs to temperatures so hot that a light sweat was beginning to coat Maya's cheeks.

  Soon, she danced around the carpet, melding the martial arts moves her dad had spent so many years teaching her, with the flow of her limbs that best drew the fire from her solar plexus. In a low spin, she swung her arms wide before drawing them together in front of her chest. Then she pushed out hard, putting a bit more strength into the move, and the fireball flew hard, slamming into the metal wall with a thunderous grunt.

  The metal shuddered, growing hot where two dents had been punched into it by the heated flaming balls.

  "As your power grows you will find that human creations, no matter how technologically advanced, will not be able to stand in your way."

  Maya spun around, her arms dropping to her sides a little too late as she recognized Kali's voice. She watched in horror as a stray ball of flame flew straight at Kali's head and a squawk of shock and fear echoed around the room.

  She registered almost absently that the sound had come from her own terrified throat.

  Kali didn't even flinch.

  The fireball sailed past her face, close enough to burn a trail across her blue cheek. But even as the fire hit the far wall, Maya could see the goddess's skin remained undamaged.

  Maya's jaw hung open as she stared in horror at what she'd done. Her stomach hurt, as if a rock had been thrown into it, heavy and hard and filled with black fear.

  But Kali merely smiled serenely and flicked the pads of her fingers against her cheek, swiping at the trail of soot; all that remained of the passing fireball, and the only damage it had caused to the goddess.

  The edges of Maya's vision darkened and she knew she was about to faint from the shock of almost harming a god.

  Why Kali had appeared behind Maya so suddenly, was not even a question she would voice.

  The goddess certainly hadn't taken long to arrive and Maya wondered if it was such a good thing that Kali was so eager to teach her this next power. She had enough to worry about without adding the frustrations of a new ability to her list of daily problems.

  Kali reached out with one long finger and placed it beneath Maya's chin, putting only the slightest pressure on it to close Maya's mouth.

  Maya blushed, feeling the heat surge from her face to the rest of her body. To hide her embarrassment, she took a slight step backward and greeted the goddess, placing her hands together in Namaste. The goddess reciprocated, smiling softly as she came to stand in front of Maya.

  Kali's proximity made Maya's heart jitter but she forced her
self to calm down and concentrate. Kali was here to perform a task, not babysit fan-girling females.

  "Are you ready, Maya?" the goddess asked, her eyes trained intently on Maya's face, while an amused smile curved her lips. She tilted her head to one side and seemed to see right through to Maya's soul.

  Probably not the best time in the world to tell fibs. She nodded slowly, not wanting to appear over confident.

  "We can get started then," said Kali.

  Her gold bangles jingled as she took a step closer and placed her finger in the middle of Maya's forehead.

  And then everything fell into darkness.

  Chapter 22

  Maya blinked, but her sight didn't return in entirety. She sucked in a short breath and searched the darkness for a hint of a shape, for the smallest suggestion of form in the dense shadows that steeped the space around her body. She reached a hand out, fingers scraping the empty air in front of her, tentative and afraid of what she may touch, what horrors she may encounter. Her hands shivered slightly and, as hard as she commanded them to still their shuddering, her muscles refused to listen.

  In fact, her fingers, hands and arms all seemed to be straining, performing an action she had not requested. They seemed to be tightened in a posture that was unusual, and strangely filled with latent power.

  Somewhere around her the wind shifted the hair on her forehead, and rushed in the trees, leaves shivered and whispered from above, and light began to filter through to her eyes very slowly. She wanted to call out to Kali, to ask her where she'd brought her, but some strange instinct bade her swallow her question and wait.

  Patience.

  The muscles in her fingers curled, tight, and straining and as her vision cleared she found herself focused, staring straight ahead at the nock of a bow. Maya swallowed her shock as she slowly took stock of her stance, fingers curved around the painfully taut string of a bow, muscles bunched and tight as she pulled hard and held the pose, waiting for something.

  Movement in the trees beyond the bow caught Maya's attention and a streak of amber shifted into view and then was gone. Something prowled within the forest, watching her as she watched it.

  Maya could feel a sense of confidence rise within her chest, an emotion that put her a little off balance. Why would she feel confidence while aiming an arrow at some creature that moved within the thick forest of trees?

  And then the leaves shifted and the animal came into view.

  And Maya let the string go, feeling the release of power as the arrow flew into the air and the gigantic bow shuddered within her grasp. Her eyes were still trained on the majestic creature that had emerged from the dense forest.

  It happened so slowly, as if she was underwater and every action took ten times longer to perform, every flicker of brain activity taking a dozen times longer to process. The Bengal tiger stared at her, as if unaffected by its impending doom.

  As if it was saying 'I will not bow to you'.

  She could have sworn a sense of pride emanated from the animal, a sense of intense belonging to nature in its purest, most primal state.

  And then the arrow buried itself deep within the tiger's left eye.

  Chapter 23

  The tiger dropped heavily to the jungle floor, the sound barely an echo as Maya began to stride toward the creature. She didn't want to go, but as hard as she tried to force herself to stop moving, as much as she strained to tighten the muscles in her legs, to command her body to stop moving, it was useless.

  She trampled the long grass as she walked, and soon stopped beside the massive cat, its length almost ten feet from head to tail, and stood so very still, watching as its chest heaved, as it struggled for breath.

  The tiger shifted its head and turned its gaze to stare at Maya. A part of her screamed that this cannot be happening, especially since she knew she'd never willingly harm such a beautiful animal, but another almost alien part of her could feel the emotions surging through her; satisfaction, pride. That part of her was happy in a very controlled, calculated way, with a sort of arrogance that Maya knew she didn't possess.

  She stiffened, recognizing that odd twist in her gut. Much the same as during her vision of Priya watching Deb in the shack, hungering for her blood. Was this what was happening? Was she having another vision?

  Maya slowed her breathing and paid closer attention to her movements, intending to sink to her knees. She wanted to check if she could do anything to help the tiger. But again nothing happened. Her muscles no longer obeyed her. She remained standing tall and stiff, staring at the big cat, that strange compartmentalized part of her feeling no remorse at all.

  She stood unmoving, watching the light fade from the tiger's eyes, only blinking when the cat heaved a final reedy sigh and closed its eyes for the last time.

  Only then did Maya find herself turning away from the animal and walking back to the clearing, spine stiff, head held high. Only then did Maya see the people gathered there, waiting for her. People who'd been standing behind her as she'd shot the tiger, watching her commit such an atrocity.

  The small group watched anxiously as she made her way through the knee-high grass. A massive creature, pale as chalk, stood behind the group, moving its ponderous trunk this way and that. Maya swallowed her shock at the sight of the white elephant, an animal she knew did not exist. But there it was, standing tall and majestic, draped with fabric woven with gold thread that glinted in the warm sunshine. Atop the elephant's back was a golden howdah.

  From what Maya knew, this type of howdah was a seat fashioned for royalty or nobility, nothing like the ones tourists used when visiting Asian countries that offered elephant rides.

  A gold-etched domed canopy shaded the howdah's single occupant, who tipped his head at Maya. The action seemed to be one of approval yet the man's dark face hid his expression too well.

  Another man walked up to Maya, accompanied by a slim, dark-eyed woman. Both were dressed in black and red, long, knee-length overdresses, with gathered pants tied at the ankles. The man sported a plain red turban on his dark head, while the woman's eyes were heavily lined with kohl, her long hair held back in a plait the fell almost to her knees.

  A voice said, "Is he satisfied?"

  Maya started, unsure of who had spoken and then the turbaned man said, "Sire, he is very pleased."

  Sire? Who was this man that she'd joined in the weird vision?

  The woman stepped forward and offered Maya a beautiful coat, and waited, head bowed. Maya found herself nodding and flicking a finger at the man who took the garment and held it out. She raised her arm, offering the bow to one of the men gathered at her side and simply held it out in their direction. There was a certain superiority in her bearing and she remained puzzled, disliking the emotions.

  One servant grabbed the weapon, while the first man shook out the coat, the sun glinting on the golden handwoven garment as Maya slipped her hands into the silk-lined sleeves.

  Okay.

  A white elephant, a superior father, a bunch of servants, lots of gold and someone calling her Sire.

  She currently occupied the body of a man, and an important one, probably nobility if not royalty. She wished she could find a mirror to get a good look at him, then immediately prayed that he wouldn't do anything icky while she remained confined within his body. The last thing she needed was to piggyback him while he visited the toilet or got jiggy with it with a female companion.

  Maya shuddered. What had Kali intended throwing her into this position? Was it a memory perhaps? Something from her life as Radha? No, that made absolutely no sense at all.

  Now, she forced herself to pay attention as her host walked between the gathered servants and stopped beside the elephant where another servant held onto the reins of a much smaller animal.

  A beautiful camel, its hide pale as fresh cream, stood there, watching him with giant liquid black eyes. The camel also bore a seat on its back, and this one was considerably smaller and looked a lot lighter, more of a larg
e saddle, thank goodness. It seemed like such a cruel thing to do, even if you were special or royalty or whatever.

  The servant holding the reins clicked his tongue and the dusky camel folded its knees and dropped smoothly to the grass.

  Maya's host strode toward it and placed a foot on the small gold-plated step suspended from the seat. He moved with grace, pulling himself up onto the silk-cushioned seat and as he sank into them, the warmth of the fabric heated by the midday sunshine soaked into her skin.

  Another servant moved closer, holding onto a long pole which turned out to belong to a large umbrella. The white fabric gleamed, throwing cool shade over the seat, and Maya watched as he placed the staff of the umbrella into a holder at the back of the seat.

  The sun burned Maya hands and she had to pull them into the cooler shade, and only then did she realize that all along she'd been sheltered by an umbrella, that someone had stood behind her at all times, holding the long-handled umbrella over her. Talk about a privileged hunt, umbrella held over you while you aim at and kill a beautiful animal.

  She knew by now that she was restricted; unable to do anything unless her host performed the action. Maya gritted her teeth, impatient to know the reason for this whole experience. And hoped there really was one, in the first place.

  The camel ride wasn't comfortable in the slightest, the height from the ground, the rolling gait of the animal, the shifting of the seat at every step, all making her feel slightly seasick. Her host didn't even take the time to look out at the scenery, that way she could at least have learned more about where in the world she'd landed. All he did was stare at the intricately carved screen in front of him, his shoulders hunched over awkwardly.

  God, he was boring.