Tiger's Curse (15 page)

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Authors: Colleen Houck

Tags: #Adventure, #Mystery, #Fantasy, #Young Adult, #Romance, #Paranormal, #Magic, #Urban Fantasy

BOOK: Tiger's Curse
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Ren looked at me and frowned. “Why aren’t you wearing the clothes I bought you? The ones in your closet and dresser?”

“Oh. You mean those clothes are for
me
?” I asked, confused and tongue-tied.

“I didn’t . . . But . . . Why would you . . . How . . . Well, anyway, thank you. And thank you for the use of the beautiful room.”

Ren smiled at me widely and almost knocked me off my feet. He took hold of a wisp of my hair that had come loose in the breeze, tucked it behind my ear, and said, “Did you like your flowers?”

I just stared at him, then blinked and managed to squeak out a tiny yes. He nodded, satisfied, and gestured to the patio chairs. I bobbed my head faintly and sucked in a breath as he took my elbow and guided me to a chair. After making sure I was comfortable, he moved to the chair opposite from me. I guess because I was just staring at him and couldn’t come up with a coherent thought of my own, he began speaking.

“Kelsey, I know you have many questions for me. What would you like to know first?”

I was mesmerized by his bright blue eyes, which somehow sparkled even in the dark. Finally, I snapped out of it. I mumbled the first thought that came to mind: “You don’t look like other Indian men. Your . . . your eyes look . . . different and . . .” I stammered lamely.
Why can’t I get it together?

If I sounded idiotic, Ren didn’t seem to notice.

“My father was of Indian descent, but my mother was Asian. She was a princess from another country who was betrothed to my father to become his bride. Plus, I’m more than three hundred years old, which might make a difference too, I suppose.”

“More than three hundred years old! That means you were born in—”

“I was born in 1657.”

“Right.” I fidgeted.
Apparently, I find older men extremely attractive.
“Then why do you look so young?”

“I don’t know. I was twenty-one when I was cursed. I haven’t aged since then.”

About a million questions popped into my mind and I suddenly felt the need to try to solve this puzzle.

“What about Mr. Kadam? How old is he? And how does Mr. Kadam’s boss fit into this? Does he know about you?”

He laughed. “Kelsey. I’m Mr. Kadam’s boss.”

“You?
You
are his wealthy employer?”

“We don’t really define our relationship that way, but what he said was more or less accurate. Mr. Kadam’s age is more complicated. He’s actually a bit older than me. He was once my man-at-arms and my father’s trusted military advisor. When I fell under the curse, I ran to him and was able to change to a man long enough to tell him what had happened. He quickly organized things, hid my parents and our wealth, and has been my protector ever since.”

“But, how can he still be alive? He should have died a long time ago.”

Ren hesitated. “The Damon Amulet protects him from aging. He wears it around his neck and never takes off.”

I flashed back to our plane ride and remembered catching a glimpse of Mr. Kadam’s pendant. I shifted forward in my seat.

“Damon? Isn’t that the name of Durga’s tiger?”

“Yes, the name of Durga’s tiger and the amulet are the same. I don’t know much about the connection or the amulet’s origins. All I know is that the amulet was broken into several parts a long time ago. Some say there are four pieces, each representing the basic elements, the four winds, or even the four points of the compass. Some say there are five or even more. My father gave me his piece, and my mother gave hers to Kishan.

“The man who placed the tiger’s curse on me wanted our pieces of the amulet. That’s why he double-crossed Kishan. No one is sure what kind of power the amulet would wield if all the pieces were reassembled. But he was ruthless and would stop at nothing to claim all the pieces and find out.”

Ren continued, “Mr. Kadam wears my piece of the amulet now. We believe that the amulet’s power has protected him and kept him alive all this time. Though he’s aged, it has been, thankfully, very slow. He is a trusted friend who has given up much to help my family through the years. I can never repay my debt to him. I don’t know how I would have survived all this time without him.” Ren looked out across the pool and whispered, “Mr. Kadam cared for my parents until their deaths and watched over them when I couldn’t.”

I leaned over to place my hand on top of his. I could sense his sadness as he thought about his parents. His lonely ache filled me somehow and entwined with my own. He turned his hand over and began absentmindedly stroking my fingers with his thumb as he stared out at the landscape, wrapped in his own thoughts.

Normally, I would have felt awkward or embarrassed holding hands with a man I’d just met. Instead, I felt comforted. Ren’s loss echoed my own, and his touch gave me a sense of peace. As I looked at his handsome face, I wondered if he felt the same way. I understood the sting of isolation. The counselors at school had said that I didn’t mourn or grieve enough after my parents’ death and that it prevented me from forming bonds with other people. I always shied away from deep relationships. I realized that in a way, we were both alone, and I felt great compassion for him in that moment. I couldn’t imagine three hundred years without human contact, without communication, without anyone looking into my eyes and knowing who I am. Even if I had been uncomfortable, I couldn’t have denied him that moment of human contact.

Ren shot me a warm, lazy smile, kissed my fingers, and said, “Come, Kelsey. You need to sleep, and my time is almost up.”

He pulled me up so that I stood very close to him, and I almost stopped breathing. As he held my hand, I felt a slight tremor pass through the tips of my fingers. He pulled me along to my door, said a quick goodnight, bowed his head, and then was gone.

The next morning I investigated my new clothing situation, courtesy of Ren. I was surprised to see that they were mostly jeans and shirts, modern clothes that American girls would wear. The only difference was that these were the bright, vivid colors of India.

I zipped open one cellophane bag in the closet and was amazed to find a silky blue Indian-style dress. It was detailed with tiny silver teardrop pearls all over the skirt and bodice. The dress was so beautiful I rushed to try it on.

The skirt slid smoothly over my head and down my arms to settle at my waist. It fit snugly at the top of my hips. From there, it fell to the floor in swirling, heavy folds—heavy because of the hundreds of pearls clustered at the bottom hem. The bodice was cap sleeved and also copiously beaded with pearls. It fit tightly and ended just above my belly button, which gave me two inches of waistline exposure all around. Normally, I would never wear midriff-exposing clothing, but this dress was stunning. I twirled around in front of the mirror feeling like a princess.

Because of the dress, I decided I would make an extra effort with my hair and makeup. I retrieved my seldom-used compact and brushed on blush, some dark eye shadow, and blue liner. I finished it off with mascara and a pink-tinted lip gloss. Then, I pulled out my braids from the night before and finger combed through the locks of hair, arranging them in soft curls down my back.

A sheer blue scarf came with the dress, and I draped it around my shoulders, not really knowing how to arrange it. I hadn’t planned to wear the dress during the day, but once I had it on I couldn’t bring myself to take it off.

Barefoot, I sashayed down the staircase and headed to breakfast. Mr. Kadam was already in the kitchen, humming and reading an Indian newspaper. He didn’t even bother to look up.

“Good morning, Miss Kelsey. There’s breakfast for you on the kitchen island.”

I flounced over, trying to get his attention, picked up my plate and a glass of papaya juice, and then conspicuously arranged my dress and sighed dramatically as I sat down across from him. “Good morning, Mr. Kadam.”

He peeked at me from around the side of the newspaper, smiled, and then set the paper down. “Miss Kelsey! You look charming!”

“Thank you.” I blushed. “Did you pick it out? It’s lovely!”

He smiled at me with twinkling eyes. “Yes. It’s called a
sharara
. Ren wanted you to have some more clothing, and I purchased it while in Mumbai. He asked me to acquire something special as well. His only instructions were ‘beautiful’ and ‘blue.’ I wish I could take all the credit for the selection, but I had a bit of help from Nilima.”

“Nilima? The flight attendant? Is she your? I mean, are you—?” I stuttered, embarrassed.

He laughed at me. “Nilima and I do have a close relationship as you have guessed, but not the kind you’re thinking of. Nilima is my great-great-great-great-granddaughter.”

My jaw hit the floor in shock. “Your what?”

“She’s my granddaughter with several greats added.”

“Ren told me that you were a bit older than he was, but he didn’t mention that you had a family.”

Mr. Kadam folded his newspaper and sipped some juice. “I was married once, a long time ago, and we had a few children. Then they had children and so on. Of all my descendants, only Nilima knows the secret. For most of them, I am a distant, wealthy uncle who is always away on business.”

“What about your wife?”

Mr. Kadam lost his smile and became thoughtful. “Life was very difficult for us. I loved her with all my heart. As time passed, she began to get older, and I did not. The amulet affected me profoundly in ways I didn’t expect. She knew about my situation and claimed it didn’t bother her.”

He rubbed the amulet under his shirt. Seeing my interest, he pulled out a thin silver chain and showed me the wedge-shaped, green stone. At the top, there was a faint outline of a tiger’s head. Glyphs ran down the outside circle, but Mr. Kadam said that he could only read part of one word.

With melancholy, he rubbed the amulet between his fingers. “My dear wife became old and very sick. She was dying. I took this amulet from around my neck and begged her to wear it. She refused, wrapped my fingers around it, and made me swear to never remove it again until my duty was fulfilled.”

A small tear slipped out of the corner of my eye. “Couldn’t you have forced her to wear it and maybe take turns?”

He shook his head sadly. “No. She wanted to follow the natural course of life. Our children were married and happy, and she felt it was time for her to move on to the next life. She was comforted knowing I would be around to care for our family.”

Mr. Kadam smiled sorrowfully. “I stayed with her until she died and with many of my children and grandchildren after that. But, as the years passed, it became harder for me to bear seeing them suffer and die. Also, the more people who knew Ren’s secret, the more danger he would be in, so I left them. I return to visit from time to time to check up on my descendants, but it’s . . . difficult for me.”

“Did you ever marry again?”

“No. I seek out one of my great-grandchildren to work for me every once in a while, and they’re wonderful to me. Also, Ren was a good companion for me until his capture. I have not sought out someone to love since then. I don’t think my heart could take saying goodbye again.”

“Oh, Mr. Kadam, I’m so sorry. Ren was right; you have sacrificed many things for him.”

He smiled at me. “Don’t feel sad for me, Miss Kelsey. It is a time for celebration.
You
have come into our lives. And you being here makes me very happy.” He took one of my hands in his, patted it, and winked at me.

I didn’t really know what to say in response, so I just smiled back at him. Mr. Kadam let go of my hand, stood up, and began to wash the plates. I got up to help as Ren padded lazily into the room yawning widely as only a tiger could. I turned around and patted his furry head, only a little awkwardly.

“Good morning, Ren!” I said brightly, and then spun around to show off my outfit. “Thank you so much for the dress! It’s quite beautiful, isn’t it? Nilima did a great job picking it out.”

Ren abruptly sat down on the floor, watched me twirl in my dress for a moment, and then got up and left.

“What’s up with Ren today?” I asked.

Mr. Kadam turned while drying his hands on a towel. “Hmm?”

“Ren just took off.”

“Who knows with tigers? Perhaps he is hungry. Excuse me for a moment, Miss Kelsey.” He smiled at me and went after Ren.

Later, we both settled down in the lovely peacock room, which housed Mr. Kadam’s amazing book collection. The books were stacked carefully on polished mahogany shelves. I picked out a book on India that was full of old maps.

“Mr. Kadam, can you show me where the Kanheri Cave is? Phet said that’s where we need to go to speak to figure out how to get Ren out of this mess.”

He opened the book and pointed to a map of Mumbai. “The cave is in the northern part of the city, in Borivali National Park, which now is called the Gandhi National Park. The Cave of Kanheri is a basaltic rock cave that has ancient writing chiseled on the walls. I have been there before, but I have never found an underground passage. Archeologists have been studying the cave for years, but still no one has yet found a prophecy written by Durga.”

“What about the Seal that Phet spoke of? What is it?”

“The Seal is a special stone that has been in my care all of these years. I keep it safe with many of Ren’s heirlooms in a bank vault. In fact, I must leave now to retrieve it. I will bring it to you tonight. It might be a good idea for you to call your foster parents today and let them know you’re alright. You can tell them you are staying on in India through the summer as my apprentice in the business, if you like.”

I nodded. I really did need to call them. Sarah and Mike were probably wondering if I’d been eaten by a tiger by now.

“I must also gather a few things from town that you will need to take with you on your journey to the cave. Please make yourself at home and rest. There is a luncheon and a dinner already prepared for you in the refrigerator. If you go for a swim, please wear sunscreen. It’s kept in a cabinet near the pool, next to the towels.”

Wandering back upstairs, I found my cell phone left on the dresser in my room.
Nice of him to give it back after the jungle incident.
I sat down in a gold velvety easy chair, called my foster parents, and had a long chat about the traffic, the food, and the people of India. When they asked about the tiger reserve, I evaded the question by saying that Ren was well taken care of. Mr. Kadam was right. The easiest way to explain my staying in India was that I was offered a position working as an intern for Mr. Kadam through the end of summer.

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