I WAS DEFINITELY feeling the shakti.
I was back in my car, singing along with Lauryn Hill at the top of my lungs. It was well into evening and dark outside. Tahir had wanted to take me to Dolce for dinner. I’d been sorely tempted—by Tahir and the meal—but I had a job to do, malevolence to battle.
Even though we were now lovers—a giggle escaped my lips—I hadn’t told Tahir about the goddess thing. First of all, how do you bring something like that into casual conversation? I mean, that would require the mother of all smooth transitions. Secondly, if I did tell him, would he believe me? I was having trouble believing it, and I had lightning at my beck and call. Third, what if I did call up the winds, and I ended up scaring the shit out of him? He’d hightail it away so fast, Speedy Gonzales couldn’t keep up with him.
I liked having Tahir in my life. I didn’t exactly know what the status of our relationship was—somewhere between fuck buddies and dating—but I didn’t want to risk it.
And that sort of brought me to why I hadn’t told my parents the truth yet. In the beginning it was the normal dysfunctional-family, don’t-ask-don’t-tell thing, but now it had evolved into something else.
I was afraid to tell them.
I was afraid of seeing the fear and incomprehension on their faces. We had enough problems as it was. I didn’t want them looking at me as some kind of monster.
It was well and good worshipping a deity from a distance. But even the most peaceful Buddhists residing in the state of Zendom would find it a bit unsettling if their son turned out to be the incarnation of Buddha. They might even hang themselves from the nearest Bodhi tree.
The truth could wait.
For the moment my holy secret was safe with me.
But there was one thing I couldn’t wait for. With Tahir I’d found an even better workout than fighting evil. And I was hungry. I was more than hungry.
In the words of Mohandas K. Gandhi, after his famous fast ended, “Can someone get me some goddamn food?”
I was in the drive-thru of Carl’s Jr. ordering a Western Bacon cheeseburger meal, when my cell phone rang.
Ram was finally calling me back.
“Where’ve you been?” I demanded. “Can I get crisscut fries instead of regular?”
“Crisscross?” Ram asked.
“Hold on.” I finished ordering, then moved ahead into the long line of cars leading up to the window. I settled back and turned my attention to Ram. “Sorry about that. Now why haven’t you called?”
“I was on holiday in Seattle.”
“Seattle?”
“Sanjay had work there. It was a most joyous trip. We went to the Space Needle, but I lost my sandal at Pike Place Market.”
“Why didn’t you tell me you’d be out of town?”
Ram sounded genuinely puzzled. “I did not think you would be so distressed. I mailed you a postcard,” he added.
I couldn’t help smiling. “Thanks. Now we definitely need to meet. I have a couple of questions for you.”
“That is acceptable. Sanjay is with Indira. We can meet here.” His voice dropped to a whisper even though he’d just said he was alone. “I do not think Indira likes me. She looks at me like she is a sleeping cobra, and I am the annoying little boy who has been poking her with a stick trying to rouse her from her slumber.”
I laughed. “I don’t think she’s too into me either. Listen, I’m in LA. I should be in Irvine in about forty minutes.”
“Let it be so,” Ram said, and hung up.
I paid and merged back into traffic. Burger in one hand, fries in the other, and steering with my elbows. Just as I took a bite my cell rang again.
Tahir’s name flashed across the screen.
A thrill ran through me.
Taking one elbow off the wheel, I shoved the burger, complete with wrapper, into my mouth to hold, and grabbed the phone.
It slipped and fell between my feet.
I tried to grab it with my foot, but not even I was that coordinated.
Reluctantly, I made a right and pulled into a residential street. By the time I picked up the phone, he’d hung up.
I was about to call him back, when there was a loud crash and I was thrown forward onto the steering wheel.
My car had been hit from behind.
Fuming, I yanked open the door and jumped out. No one, but no one, dented my H2. If they didn’t have insurance, I would descend on them with all the force of my sacred right to rage.
And then the malevolence hit.
Ugh.
This wasn’t some innocent driver.
The malevolence was strong, distinct. I’d come to realize that malevolence was as unique to the individual as body odor.
Ugh.
As in body odor ugh. Not evil ugh.
Actually, the malevolence was more than distinct. It was familiar. I’d felt it before at Aunt Gayatri’s party and periodically afterward.
The Kali-hater was back.
Before I could open the door and retrieve my sword, he was in front of me.
My hand froze on the door handle.
What shocked me wasn’t the gun pointed at my midsection. I was used to guns.
My stalker moved closer and the light from the street-lamp fell on his face, illuminating what I’d already seen.
I couldn’t believe it.
The Kali-hater was none other than Ram’s cousin.
Mild-mannered computer programmer—
Sanjay.