Tiger's Destiny Page 4

  At one point during the meal, I felt an icy touch find my ankle under my layered skirts. Slowly, the biting cold traveled up my bare leg and caressed my thigh. I wasn’t sure if he was using his air or his water power or a combination of both, but I kept silent and nibbled at the dinner as best I could.

  The minutes ticked by, and still there was no sign of Ren and Kishan. If they didn’t make an appearance soon, I’d be Mrs. Lokesh Shu or whatever his last name was. I was on my own. Helpless darkness swelled within me. It overwhelmed me until I felt as heavy as a stone sinking into a muddy river. This was not what I’d envisioned for my future.

  Instead of walking down the aisle to a man who looked at me with love and tenderness, I’d be walking toward a villain—someone who’d rather twist my arm than place it on his. Instead of Mr. Kadam taking my arm proudly, soothing my nerves, and giving me to the care of a man he called a son, I had no one. Instead of promises and sweet vows of love, I’d hear bubbly lies roiling with black filth. When the bubbles burst, I’d be covered in layers of corruption.

  The feast was finally cleared away, and I couldn’t stall the wedding any longer. Lokesh took my hand.

  “Are you ready, my dear?” Lokesh asked and, without waiting for my response, called for the magistrate to enter.

  Though I wanted to wring my hands and run away, I placed my palm confidently in his and smiled. “Of course.”

  “Shall we proceed?” asked a smooth, silky voice.

  I gasped and whipped around. The magistrate’s blue eyes flashed with anger, and his priestly robes whipped behind him as he strode into the center of the room. Ren! I thought he was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen.

  Weapons flew through the air. The chakram whirled, and darts from the trident sped toward Lokesh, who easily deflected them.

  Lokesh gripped my arm and laughed. “Greetings, Dhiren. You must have received your invitation.”

  “You will wed her over my dead body,” Ren threatened.

  Lokesh shrugged. “As you wish.”

  With a twitch of Lokesh’s fingers, Ren stopped moving.

  Lokesh shifted his eyes nervously around the candlelit ballroom, seeking the black tiger.

  Where is Kishan? I need to defrost Ren. Think, Kelsey. Think!

  Seeing no other move, I draped my arm around Lokesh’s, hoped against hope, and asked, “Did you kill Ren?”

  “No, my dear. He’s still alive.”

  “Good,” I purred. Determined to act out my part well, I turned to Ren, gave him a pitying glance, and said, “It’s really too bad you had to find out this way. But since you’re here, you can be a guest at my wedding.”

  Lokesh smiled and instructed the guards to find the real magistrate. Ren’s blue eyes burned into mine.

  “Oh dear, how rude of me. Of course, a guest should kiss the bride,” I said mockingly before kissing the man who had come to save me, biting his lip until I drew blood. I’m so sorry! I thought, wishing Ren could read my mind . . . and then I slapped him square across his beautiful face.

  His pupils widened with shock, and I imagined the sting in his heart was much greater than the sting on his cheek. Yanking the Scarf from my sleeve, I dabbed at his bruised lip and tucked it into his collar, clucking disdainfully as Lokesh laughed with glee.

  I stayed long enough to see the light go out in Ren’s eyes. Turning back to Lokesh, I frowned. “But will he have a good view from all the way over here? I really think he should be moved, don’t you? I want him to have a clear picture of the man I chose over him.”

  Lokesh pinched my cheek, twisting it harshly. “What a devious little vixen you are,” he said happily and watched with delight as I used the Scarf to bind Ren’s arms to his chest.

  As soon as Ren was sufficiently tied up, Lokesh unfroze him. Ren’s muscles strained against the Scarf aggressively. I wiggled my fingers lightly against my skirt and shook my head, hoping he would understand my signals. Settling down, Ren relaxed and walked to the side of the make-shift altar.

  Lokesh lifted his hands to freeze Ren again, but I cut him off by saying, “That will not be necessary, my love.”

  I twisted my fingers, and the Scarf wrapped around Ren’s legs until he was mummy-wrapped from neck to feet

  “You’ve done a magnificent job, my pet,” said Lokesh, “but I think I’ll keep his tongue frozen, at least for now. I wouldn’t want him spoiling our nuptials after all.”

  “Wise decision. Shall we begin then? Did you find the magistrate?”

  Lokesh clapped his hands, but not a single servant or the magistrate appeared. He shouted once, twice, and rang a bell in frustration. His only answer was an explosive blaze of fire burning from every candle in the room.

  Lokesh raised his arms and tried to blow them out with a brisk wind, but the flames only rose higher. Grunting, he waved his hand and doused each candle with water as Ren looked on and smiled.

  Sensing that things were afoul, the evil sorcerer took my arm, growled “Come with me!” and yanked me down the hallway to make a quick escape through the kitchen.

  Silently, I instructed the Scarf to free Ren and weave him a message.

  Try as he might, Lokesh couldn’t open the kitchen door. He used lightning but the blue crackle only left scorch marks on the wood. Finally, he ripped the door off its hinges.

  I edged back a few feet while Lokesh stared incredulously at a room I’d filled to the top with chocolate cake. I smirked, pleased with myself, and explained, “A girl should be able to enjoy a little chocolate at her wedding, don’t you think?”

  At my whispered word, the cake burst open and boiling chocolate fudge sauce spilled all over Lokesh. He screamed and turned toward me just as Kishan broke through the side door and ran into the hallway. A dead guard fell at his feet.

  “Kishan!” I shouted, so happy I could have cried.

  Kishan stopped only to throw me a wink before he raised his palm and sent off bubbles of light that exploded directly in front of Lokesh like a strobe firecracker. He screeched in pain and covered his eyes. Using both hands, Kishan shot several lightning bursts into Lokesh’s body.

  Before I could give Kishan the biggest tiger hug he’d ever have, Ren joined us in the hall with my bow and arrows and the Golden Fruit. Without skipping a beat, he shot trident darts into Lokesh, who soon began to look like a spear pincushion, and then asked the Scarf to mummy-wrap him.

  The Scarf sprang to life in Ren’s hands and spun long layers of linen. Tightly, it wove between the spear darts. Lokesh hollered in pain and spat out vehement words in Hindi and Chinese. His legs were bound together, and the Scarf’s wrappings twisted around his neck, looped around an awning, and raised his body off the floor. Lokesh twitched and bucked, and I momentarily turned away, not wanting to watch.

  Somehow Lokesh managed to wrench his hands free, and his power slid over me immediately. It felt like he was scratching me, ripping my skin with his claws. Groaning, I wrapped my arms around my body, staggering and panting at the pain. Ren dashed to my side to catch me in his arms before I fell.

  “I’ve got you, iadala,” Ren whispered softly.

  Kishan blasted Lokesh again, and the pain began to fade.

  Incredibly, Lokesh was still alive but in terrible agony. Kishan lit his mummy-wrap on fire, and then I heard an inhuman scream and smelled burning flesh. With a sudden whoosh of water, Lokesh put out the fire. It was going to take more than just flames to kill the sorcerer.

  Ren lifted the Golden Fruit and a coating of oil slid over the water-soaked linens. Kishan lit it on fire again, and Lokesh’s body wrenched back and forth.

  Recovered enough to move, I yanked on Ren’s shirt. “Let’s go!” I pressed, unable to witness the scene any longer.

  I pushed the boys into the hall, shut the door, and rammed a fire poker through the handle, hoping Lokesh would either burn or hang or both. The house began shaking; his black magic created an earthquake.

  It was time to run. I asked the Scarf to create
more practical clothes under my wedding dress. The brothers kept me between them as we raced down staircases and through a complicated maze of hallways and busted-open doorways. Blast marks peppered the walls, and my feet crunched over broken, once-hidden cameras. We leapt over dozens of fallen guards. As we pushed ahead, I cast off Lokesh’s diamond ring and my Chinese bridal wear piece by piece.

  Finally we came to an open window whose bars had been severed cleanly. Kishan leapt outside and landed in the bushes twelve feet below. Ren picked me up and tossed me into Kishan’s open arms before joining us. I was dying to talk, to scream, to whoop with joy, but by the time we reached the motorcycles, my heart was practically bursting out of my chest and I was completely out of breath.

  But I was free.

  With no time for anything more than a brief squeeze of my hand, Ren pulled me onto his bike, and with a rev of engines, the three of us shot off like blazing comets into the night, leaving a trail of discarded red fabric in our wake.

  reunion

  We rode for several hours in silence without stopping. The chilly December wind whipped through my hair, and I wriggled closer to Ren, who had somehow managed to take off his leather jacket and give it to me without slowing down. I gratefully put it on and hugged Ren tightly in thanks.

  I had no idea where we were though I suspected based on the road signs we were not in India. When the boys finally pulled over, it was early morning, maybe an hour or two before sunrise. I wearily got off the motorcycle. Ren and Kishan hid their bikes in the brush, and finally, finally, we were able to have a proper reunion.

  “I thought I’d never see you again,” Kishan said tenderly, wrapping his arms around me and running his hands up and down my back. “Are you okay? Did Lokesh hurt you?”

  I shook my head. “Only a little. He gave me a few bruises and kissed me a few times but for the most part he left me alone. I never saw his torture chamber.”

  It felt good to be back in Kishan’s embrace. Safe. For the first time in a long time, I let my guard down completely. I was with my tigers again. I was back where I belonged.

  “Good,” Kishan grunted, holding onto me as if he’d never let go.

  When he finally did, Ren approached me with an indiscernible expression in his eyes. He said nothing, but I could have sworn he was reading my mind. Hesitantly, he touched my cheek and tears welled up in my eyes. Before I could say anything, he pulled me into his arms. Wrapped into that safe haven, feeling the unspoken connection between us and the warmth of his strong body against mine, I finally relaxed, and all the terrifying emotional turmoil spilled out of me in a torrent.

  Seeing the state I was in, Kishan lowered his gaze and busied himself setting up a tent while I cried quietly in Ren’s arms. My body shook in racking sobs. I clawed Ren’s shirt, gathering it in my fist while he murmured softly and stroked my hair. At some point I realized I wasn’t supporting my own weight anymore. He picked me up and carried me into the tent.

  Ren cradled me against his chest, and Kishan made me some hot tea. I shook my head, too overwhelmed to drink, but Ren insisted. When I’d finished, he whispered some words to Kishan, who changed immediately into the black tiger and stretched out along the cushions. I lay next to him, stroking my black tiger’s fur, knowing that the curse still required them to take tiger form for six hours a day.

  “Try to sleep, priyatama,” Ren said, placing his palm lightly against my cheek. Then he changed into his familiar white tiger form and lay on my other side.

  For a time, the only noise was me sniffling and Ren’s comforting purr. Exhausted, I finally fell asleep with my fist gripping the soft fur at Ren’s neck.

  I slept for a long time, only partially waking with the movements of the brothers as they tried not to disturb me. They spoke softly in Hindi, and the lovely, musical words helped me relax and fall back to sleep.

  When I finally woke, the sun was high in the sky. Though it was cold at night, it had warmed up to around fifty degrees, which in Oregon is like early summer. I sat up grimacing and shoved the helmet hair out of my face.

  Kishan ducked into the tent and grinned. “Thought I heard you get up.”

  “Do we have time for at least a sponge bath before we go?”

  “If you’re including me in that statement, I’ll make the time.”

  I sighed, stretched, and gave him a half smile. “I’ve missed your teasing. Hey, where are we anyway?”

  “Uzbekistan.”

  “That doesn’t help . . .”

  “Central Asia. We’re about a thousand miles from home.”

  “Wow, that’s a long way to come on motorcycles,” I said and paused before continuing. “Kishan? Do you think he’s . . . he’s dead?”

  “I don’t know. Lokesh has lived a long time.”

  “I hope he’s dead.”

  Kishan studied me thoughtfully. “I hope so too, Kells.”

  I took his hand. Though my heart still stirred for Ren, I had made my choice: Kishan. Round pillow, square pillow, they’re both still pillows, I remembered, thinking fondly of Phet.

  “Kishan, thank you for coming for me.”

  His golden eyes gleamed. “Anytime, beautiful.”

  Kishan left me to clean up, and I asked the Scarf to create a makeshift shower curtain and the Pearl Necklace to create a shower on a section of flat rock not far from the tent. I stuck my hand into the water and was surprised that it felt like a warm tropical rain. I scrubbed the makeup and perfume from my body and imagined I was washing away a thick layer of false skin, sloughing off the girl who would have been the bride of Lokesh.

  Refreshed and feeling like myself again, it was time to go home. When Kishan asked me to ride with him, I glanced at Ren, who would not meet my gaze. I bit my lip and threw my leg over Kishan’s bike.

  Wanting to get as far away from Lokesh as quickly as possible, we kept up a grueling pace. I got the feeling that the brothers only stopped for me and to refuel.

  At a gas station, Kishan filled the bikes while Ren and I picked up a comb and a bottle of sunscreen. As I began working out the tangles in my hair, Ren insisted on rubbing the lotion over my arms, nose, and cheeks.

  “How are you?” he asked quietly.

  “I’ll survive.”

  “Of that, I have no doubt.” Finished with one arm, he moved to my other one. “Lokesh was making you marry him?”

  “It was actually my idea. I wanted to . . . stall him as long as possible.”

  Ren stiffened and his fingers gripped my arm for a moment. He looked me in the eye and asked carefully, “Did he . . . hurt you?”

  I put my hand over his. “No, not the way you’re thinking.”

  Ren nodded and cupped my face with his palm. “If you need to talk, I’m here.”

  “I know. And Ren? I’m sorry about the kiss. I didn’t want to hurt you.”

  “I know why you did it. It hurt worse knowing you were a prisoner and not being able to save you.”

  “Thank you for rescuing me.”

  He sighed. “No matter where you are, I will always come for you, iadala. There is no need to thank me.”

  “Still, thank you.”

  Ren kissed my forehead. “Have I told you lately that you’re a very stubborn woman?”

  “Not recently,” I replied playfully, enjoying our familiar banter and feeling a warm tingle flow throughout my body. “Let’s go home. I can’t wait to see Mr. Kadam. I have so many things to tell him.”

  Ren reached out for my hand and pulled me closer, suddenly serious. “Kells, we . . . haven’t been able to find him. When Lokesh’s pirates ambushed us, he stepped in front of a harpoon meant for Nilima, and they both disappeared. We can’t locate them on the GPS. Both of their signals went missing. We saw yours, but not theirs.”

  “What? That can’t be. Let’s go then. We need to find them.” My mind filled with new worry for Mr. Kadam and Nilima. Nothing would be right until we were all back together.

  Ren held out his hand. “Will y
ou ride with me?”

  His question hung in the air. I looked over at Kishan, who had just finished filling the tires with air and gave me a merry wave.

  Kishan is my boyfriend. I should ride with him, I thought.

  “Please,” Ren added quietly. “I need to feel you near me.”

  I lowered my eyes and took his hand. My resolve crumbled. “Alright,” I said, climbed on behind him, and wrapped my arms around his waist.

  Ren wound his way over to Kishan and announced, “We’re riding together on this leg.”

  I quickly added, “If that’s alright with you, Kishan.”

  Kishan shrugged good naturedly and warned, “Ren rides like a grandpa, but it’s fine with me.”

  To thank him, I kissed him lightly.

  Kishan grinned and said, “I might be better off. This way if I ride behind Grandpa, I can admire the view.”

  Ren grunted and said something brusque in Hindi, but Kishan just laughed and ignored him.

  That night Kishan scouted out a place to set up camp and returned excited. I followed him up a rocky hill to a circle of stones around a hollowed out area of packed clay.

  “Fill it with water,” Kishan suggested. “Voilà! Your very own Jacuzzi.”

  I laughed and brushed my hand across the Necklace at my throat. The basin quickly filled with a bubbling mineral bath, and Kishan blasted it with fire power. The cold air billowed with steam.

  “Enjoy your bath, Kells. Oh, and if you need the water warmed again, I’d be more than happy to oblige.”

  After my soak it was Ren’s and Kishan’s turn. Kishan ripped his shirt off. “First one there rides all day with Kells.” Ren took off like a shot with Kishan whooping after him.

  With only one more day of travel to go, we were all starting to fall back into our normal routines, at least as normal as they could be under the circumstances. Both brothers were careful with me, treating me as delicately as a precious China cup.

  Later that moonlit night, when Kishan smiled and leaned over to kiss me, it was warm and brief. Something flashed in his eyes when he pulled away.