Page 49 of Tainted Blood

“That’s right.”

“Maria is the only ruler I would ever sit down to talk to if I need to ask her for information,” Isaiah said, his expression growing more serious every second. “If I were talking to Kaliya as an Executioner, I would sit down, but she’s no longer an employee of the Tribunal and no longer answers to me. Aside from my spot on the Tribunal, she’s my equal now.” He even seemed uncomfortable, fidgeting and shifting his weight.

“Something wrong?” I asked, studying him.

“She’ll be different from the woman I worked with for decades,” he said, his expression distant. “I’ve discussed a number of things with Kaliya while she was one of the Tribunal’s Executioners. She worked for us for several decades and was one of our most sane and most consistent. We gave her a longer leash than we did most others in that position because we knew she wasn’t just in it to kill. She was intelligent, cunning, and worked well with our Investigators. She could have been one, and we let her dance the line between the two positions.” Isaiah hit several buttons on his phone then put it down on the coffee table.

“However, I’ve never had a conversation with her as the Nagaraja, and I know she’ll be different. I need to be ready to readjust my view of her at any moment in this conversation. All of those dangerous skills of hers, now with full control over her people and through her husband, the cambions.”

“She might not answer,” I pointed out.

“She might not, but that only delays the inevitable and leaves us still wondering if she has information that might help us. If necessary, I can stay up past the sunrise and wait to speak to her, but I would prefer that you were both here. I want everyone in this room on the same page.”

There was a soft ding, and Isaiah straightened, looking back at the screen. It came on with a countdown, something I had never seen before. It was only ten seconds, but it was there, projected to our side through the video call. Once it was over, there was a very spartan office on the other side and an uncomfortable-looking Indian man, who seemed confused when he saw us.

“I’m Mahavir, second and assistant to the Nagaraja. Who are you, and why have you reached out at such an hour?” His accent was thick and expressed all the confusion that was clear on his face.

“I’m Isaiah, Master of New York, and member of the Tribunal. I’m calling to request the Nagaraja’s immediate assistance on an urgent matter. This is Alexius and Everly, two friends of mine. Since we haven’t met, you should know we’re vampires.”

“I can let her know that you’ve called, but I can’t guarantee she’ll come to speak to you immediately. Hold, please.” The screen went to what amounted to a screen saver. The call was still going, but we had no more visual or audio.

“I half expected this. They’re not nocturnal as we are required to be,” Isaiah said, his posture remaining stiff and unmoving.

“Would you like me to get everyone here something to drink in case this is a long wait?” I asked, looking between him and Alexius.

“No. I try not to have blood visible when I’m talking to other supernaturals. It’s poor manners, considering many of them don’t feel comfortable with our diet. We’re going to wait, even if we must stand here for an hour.”

We didn’t stand there for an hour. Less than five minutes later, the call came back, and we were looking at the spartan office once again. Mahavir was there along with a white-haired woman whose face didn’t match the color of her long hair. She didn’t look a day over thirty. There was a small scar on her elegant, sharp cheekbone, but that was the only thing marring her beauty. For me, that scar didn’t detract at all. It only served as a reminder of everything that I had been told about her.

When she looked at us, her eyes were a dark brown, much like Alexius’s, but they changed into a red orange as she studied us. Not blood-red of a vampire, but something more akin to fire.

“This can’t be good,” she said, sighing heavily, but nothing about her seemed tired or weary. Resigned felt like the right way to describe it.

“It’s not,” Isaiah confirmed. “It’s nothing between us. I wanted to ask you if you had any information or leads on something that might be related to your… history.”

“History as a naga or as an Executioner?” Her eyes narrowed.

“Both, either… or your history with the cambions, if it’s the answer.” Isaiah reached out for the manilla envelope.

“Mahavir, tell Raphael he’ll need to get up,” Kaliya ordered the man still there. “You can take the rest of the night off after that. I think I’ll be up for some time.”

Mahavir only bowed before leaving.

“Let’s see what you need,” Kaliya said the moment the door closed. She moved closer to the screen and crossed her arms.

“I have digital copies of these images, but I won’t be distributing them for reasons you’ll understand when you see them,” Isaiah said as he pulled the images out of the envelope. He lifted the first image, showing Kaliya what I had printed of Samas’s early transformation. Her eyes went wide as she stepped closer again. The shock wore off quickly as her expression turned into something I couldn’t decide was angry or focused.

“Next image,” she ordered.

Isaiah lifted the second, and Kaliya turned away, covering her mouth. A second later, she walked out of the office.

“Raphael! We have an emergency!” she yelled before coming back in, slamming the door. She focused back on us, and I couldn’t stop myself from taking a step back purely based on her expression. She noticed, softening a bit.

“Do you know what you’re looking at?” Isaiah demanded. I was thinking the same thing. She went from not knowing what we needed to calling an emergency with only one image. She had to know what was going on.

“Yeah, I do. Let me ask you a more important question. Do you have the blood he was drinking before it happened? Or the person?” Kaliya hissed on every word.

“It was a decanter, and we’ve been looking for it. So far, we haven’t been able to sniff it out.”

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