Read Nine: Vengeance of the Warrior Online

Authors: Shobha Nihalani

Tags: #Fiction, #General, #Thrillers, #Suspense, #Fantasy

Nine: Vengeance of the Warrior (13 page)

BOOK: Nine: Vengeance of the Warrior
5.2Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

‘What an interesting life you lead.’ He caressed her hand. ‘And you know what I think? The Nine should be kept under wraps. Knowledge that is not justified by science is considered magical and, therefore, unbelievable. And secret knowledge that is so powerful should not be made easily available—the world is full of greedy individuals.’

Anita smiled. ‘What would I do without you?’ she murmured in a husky voice. ‘And your beautiful words of wisdom.’

Dinner was their foreplay. And by the time they reached his hotel room, she wanted him as much as he wanted her. Their kisses were hot and urgent. She felt the intensity of his desire when he undressed her. She was up against the wall, while his hands glided along the curve of her waist and hip. He gripped her butt tight and squeezed. She let out a whimper as he pressed against her. He lifted her up and her legs entwined around him. His kisses were potent and each time his lips caressed her ear lobes and nape, she burned with desire. Anita was on such a high, she wanted the moment to last forever. All her tension fell away as his lips glided over her breasts. Before she knew it, he was inside her—hard and fast, just the way she liked it. Every nerve was on fire, she wanted him to keep going faster and faster until there was a burst of intense pleasure. She cried out. He held her close, their sweat mingling in the heat of their passion.

Later, they made love again—slow, rhythmic, intense. Anita rode him like the night would never end. She held off on the climax as long as she could, but his skilled touch brought a wave of powerful orgasms. She trembled, perspiration glistened on her body. She collapsed in his arms breathing as if she had just had a thirty-minute cardio workout.

‘You are the most exquisitely selfish creature I have ever met,’ he whispered in her ear before she fell by his side laughing. To be able to have a relationship that didn’t involve emotional baggage was gratifying, liberating. ‘You know you are the perfect man for me,’ Anita said with a sly smile.

Anita was fond of this exotic European. They had become passionate friends, but it didn’t step into the boundaries of his personal life. She knew he was divorced. Whenever his phone beeped, he answered it in low tones. His business calls were from different time zones and he responded quickly. Anita was not intrusive. She had a relationship that worked for her, she could talk endlessly about her passion and he would listen with a keen, intelligent ear. Axel seemed to get her, he tuned in to her feelings and connected so deeply, she felt emotionally and physically fulfilled.

She caressed Axel’s tanned chest and her fingers trailed lower down. Her hands were warm, efficient, and she felt him respond, heard him moan with pleasure. Smiling, she kept her movements rhythmic. ‘Are you hungry again?’ he grunted playfully.

The morning light streaked into the room. Anita woke up with a smile. ‘I better go before Grandma sends out her team of volunteers to find me,’ she murmured.

‘Thank you for being here,’ he whispered.

‘Thank you for being you,’ she said, giving him a lingering kiss before she got dressed.

He was silent, watching her with his expressive eyes. ‘Listen, if you want to go to Siem Reap, you know, to explore your story of the murder at Angkor, then I’ll join you.’ Anita knew what that meant—an all-expenses-paid trip.

‘You know what? I might just take you up on that.’ She was fully clothed as she reached out and caressed his face. He was still in bed, naked, enjoying her warm touch. ‘Stay a while longer …’ he whispered in her ear.

‘Hmm, I can never say no to you,’ she returned his kiss as he unzipped her skirt.

Two hours later, Anita was on her way home in Axel’s car.

12
Tejaswi

Wearing comfortable clothes and shoes, Tejaswi packed her knapsack with essentials. Her notebook and pen, and her iPhone which would be handy for photographs. Other than some cash and her passport, she didn’t need anything else to visit the site.

The lobby was crowded with a fresh ruck of tourists, complete with knapsacks on their backs and sunscreen slathered on their T-zones. There was still time to get to the temples before the closing hour. A few groups of tourists waited for the bus. The hotel provided transport to and from the temples. ‘I want to go to Angkor,’ Tejaswi said.

The man at the reception pointed to a hotel bus waiting by the kerb. Great, she was just in time to join the queue. The bus was half full. Tejaswi hopped in and found a seat at the back. She heaved a sigh of relief. Settling down, she pulled out the note. It gave her the exact location of the temple within the Angkor Wat compound. Soon they were on their way. After a short ride, the bus halted outside the temple grounds. Tejaswi bought a ticket and, ignoring the clusters of popular shrines and structures, headed towards the famous temple with the help of her map. Cycle rickshaws were available if she didn’t wish to walk, but she didn’t want anyone tracking her whereabouts. Not that anyone would be suspicious, but it would be easier for her to achieve her goal if the place was deserted. She was careful not to mention her intended trip to anyone.

Tejaswi paused at a crossroads and asked one of the security guards stationed along the route, ‘Can you guide me to Ta Prohm, please?’

He pointed towards a distant structure. It seemed to be held in place by the roots of a large banyan tree. The branches furcated like long limbs and reached the ground, where they pushed up the earth and cracked the concrete in the surrounding area. She tripped, but broke her fall by gripping one of the tree roots. She had to be mindful of her disability—sometimes she wasn’t careful enough.

The skies were suddenly overcast and the setting sun in the distance was a sign that the temple grounds would be closing soon. Tejaswi hurried inside Ta Prohm to the sanctum sanctorum. It was cool, dark and smelled of wet earth. Tejaswi moved towards the centre. She didn’t know what she was supposed to do. ‘Hello?’ she called out.
Was the spirit present? Would he just swoop into her?

The area was circular, with a ledge that ran all around the upper level. The ceiling was high and almost invisible in the fading evening light. Stone sculptures of deities and animals lined the top ledge. Shadows fell, increasing the eeriness of the solitary space. Statues watched her from every wall of the enclosure with stone eyes; one statue, with outstretched cupped hands, seemed to mock her. All around her were fallen rocks and sculptures. Weeds and grass had found their way out of hospitable soil and cracks in the ground. But the large tree roots were intrusive, twirling through every crevice. Tejaswi walked around, unsure of what she was looking for. She felt uncomfortable. She turned her eyes to the statue with cupped palms and walked up to it. There was a tiny pool of water in the statue’s hands. She dipped a finger inside the black pool out of curiosity. The water was cool. Cautiously, she ventured further, treading on the broken pillars and stone blocks lying on the ground like war victims. Darkness was seeping in, the stone steps leading to the upper level beckoned her. She shivered despite the humid air. The main stone deity was a huge face festooned against the rear wall. It was cracked in places—a horizontal gap was visible along the bridge of the nose. Still, the image had an impact. The inner sanctum was much darker and the air felt heavy. She switched on her flashlight and panned the area. There was nothing worth noting other than litter and the distinct smell of soil.

A sudden humming sound caught her by surprise. She whirled around with a start. ‘Who’s there?’ she called out. Silence.

Tejaswi’s senses prickled as if there was someone watching her. The whispers continued and she felt slightly disoriented. She walked carefully ahead and scanned the area with her flashlight. No one was visible. She felt the hair on the nape of her neck stand on end. An odd chill came over her scalp. She continued walking. The circular glow of her torch suddenly hit an object, a glint caught her eye. She walked over to the fallen pillars where she’d spotted it and bent down to pick it up. It was nothing of significance—a ring with a red gem. Not sure if it was real, she placed it in her pocket. She headed towards the large statue and stared at it. The temple seemed to take on a reddish glow. ‘You know why I am here,’ she said. The setting rays sliced through the tiny holes in the stone walls. Abruptly, she felt a strong cold draught. It tugged at her, pushing her almost to the exterior wall. She felt the palpable presence of something ominous and found it difficult to breathe. She smiled. Her torch lit up small circular patches across the dim dank temple. ‘I am not afraid,’ she called out. Dark shadows seemed to come at her. It was the effect of her torch. She hesitated, feeling an odd sense of panic.

Tejaswi stood as still as a statue. Her stomach clenched in fear; she suddenly had an overwhelming urge to leave the place, the spirit’s assistance be damned. She cautiously stepped forward, panning her torch over the dark creepy corners and the undulating earth. She didn’t quite know why but she stood frozen at that spot, every sense strained—a primeval reaction, perhaps. Then, she caught it. Just beyond the shadows, a subtle movement. Tejaswi swivelled, a glimpse from the corner of her eye. She stood stock-still. Not a sound. A distinct whiff of blood hit her nostrils. An odd sensation grew in the pit of her stomach, a chill crept over her skin. Instinctively, she moved back, sensing danger. There was nothing visibly terrifying, yet the feeling lurked at the base of her neck, tying her nerves in knots. The metallic odour lingered, then it got so oppressive that she felt like gagging. Covering her mouth and nose with her free hand, she stumbled against a loose rock structure and almost tripped on a tree root. She leaned heavily against the twining root, it was as thick as her arm. It was too late to react when she heard the whoosh. A statue fell from above. Tejaswi glanced up a second before it hit her square in the face. The last thought she had before the bright light of pain knocked her out was who had dropped their ring and why hadn’t he or she come back to look for it.

When she came to, Tejaswi was immobile, but aware of what was going on around her. She could neither move her body nor speak, but her hearing was heightened. She could hear what sounded like the crawling of an insect nearby. There was a presence, a spirit inside or near her.
I will help you seek revenge
… Tejaswi heard a gritty whisper. It was angry, highly emotional, and it pulled at her mind, infiltrating it, swimming into her thoughts and filtering into her ideas. The presence was so strong and overpowering that she felt the pressure in her ears.

She was alert but trapped inside her mind. Fear took root and no matter how hard she willed her body to move, it just wouldn’t. Her skin broke out in goosebumps as the air grew colder. She didn’t know how long she had been lying there. The darkness was complete but luckily for her, the security guard found her during his routine check. She heard running footsteps and then many gentle hands carried her out of the temple. She was transported in a medic van to the nearest hospital.

Then she lost consciousness again.

The second time she came to, she was lying on a hospital bed. Machines ticked and buzzed around her. She felt tubes in her nose and throat. Her head hurt and she couldn’t move her body. Her mind was heavy with drugs. But she felt the same odd presence pushing into her. Tejaswi was too weak to ask any questions. The presence was evil and angry and it pushed and pushed until she was not there any more; there was only this feeling of anger coursing through her veins. Her head felt hot; she could smell blood, the metallic odour was so strong, she was surprised she didn’t gag. But nothing was moving. Then suddenly she saw herself hovering above her bed. Her lifeless body appeared tiny lying on the bed below. She was a weak being, wasting away, covered with a thin sheet while tubes and machines kept her heart pumping and her body functioning.

‘This is not how I want to live or die!’ she murmured.

Then choose life … I will be your power … You must accept me, open your mind and soul to me … I will make you stronger …
A low guttural voice spoke to her.

Tejaswi felt the presence of a dark shadow around her. ‘Who are you?’ she asked.

Kalingan …
She heard the words whispered into her ear.
I seek revenge … the Kalingan warrior seeks revenge from the Mauryans … They will have to be destroyed …

Tejaswi stared blankly for she understood nothing.

The Kalingan laughed.
The Nine … I seek revenge from the Nine … I seek power from them … King Ashoka’s men who with their powers live anonymously for generations … But I will find them and destroy each one …

‘So you are the spirit the Ojaa witch was talking about. But how can I help?’

You already have … You have the body … The Kalingan warrior needs it to destroy his enemies … in return you can use my immense power to destroy your enemies … but you must accept me first …

‘I do, I’m ready,’ she answered. Things were now clear to her. But before she could ask what was going to happen, she felt a strong tug downwards and her ethereal self was sucked right back into her body. She gasped for breath. The machines beeped and set off alarms. Her heart was racing like she was on a galloping horse. Her whole body was on fire, burning from the inside out. Tejaswi opened her eyes wide and stared blankly, a silent scream stuck in her throat.

BOOK: Nine: Vengeance of the Warrior
5.2Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Other books

The Highlander's Choice by Callie Hutton
Her Kind of Hero by Diana Palmer
Zorilla At Large! by William Stafford
Ghosts Know by Ramsey Campbell
Lady Eugenia's Holiday by Shirley Marks
The Scribe by Francine Rivers
A Line in the Sand by Seymour, Gerald
Las trompetas de Jericó by Nicholas Wilcox