Curse of the Nandi (Society for Paranormals Book 5) by Vered Ehsani Page B
Authors: Vered Ehsani
Tags: book 5
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not only voice gratitude but feel it, rather than expressing a grudging acceptance. You are not immune to the frailties of the mortal frame that Plague us all, Beatrice.”
While I had always been able to observe another’s energies, I was not as competent at empathizing with the emotions therein. Yet caught up in the imploring gaze of Mr. Timmons, I experienced a rawness that was not my own, and a softening of the heart that was.
We stared at each other, silently battling pride and fear. I was the first to relent. My ire evaporated and when I spoke, it was to utter words that surprised my mind and delighted my heart: “Thank you, Mr. Timmons. I truly am grateful for your assistance.”
His eyes closed as if he were offering a brief prayer, and he said, “It’s always my pleasure.”
I glanced up and down the street; it was still deserted. “So you don’t like watching me endanger myself, hm? How often did you watch me?”
Mr. Timmons chuckled. “More than you know. I found myself following you around just to ensure you wouldn’t die before I could marry you. That night with the twin lion sisters, for example.”
“I thought you were after their energy,” I said as I tucked my walking stick under an arm and rubbed my arms with my hands to warm myself against a cool, dusty breeze and the aftereffect of intense emotions.
“Well, that too,” he admitted with his customary smug grin back in place.
“Are you two all right?” Mr. Elkhart shouted from the other end of Victoria Street. In the quiet, his voice echoed around us.
“Quite,” Mr. Timmons yelled back, then grasped both my hands in his. “Aren’t we?”
I experienced an unnatural constriction in my throat and didn’t dare lend voice to my thoughts. Instead, I merely nodded and gestured for him to proceed.
We rounded the corner and arrived just past the cluster of trees without being decapitated or dismembered. It was a pleasant realization, for to have in one’s possession all one’s limbs and members is most gratifying. Before I could congratulate myself on that matter, a haunting wail reminiscent of a tortured demon reverberated from the abandoned train station ahead of us, followed by what was undoubtedly the howl of a werewolf.
Chapter 17
“Drew!” I cried out. The recent exchange with my husband quite forgotten, I hastened ahead, my walking stick held at the ready while the bow and quiver bounced against my back.
“Dash it all,” Mr. Timmons muttered behind me.
I couldn’t help but admire his restraint, for he normally wasn’t one to use such mild language when miffed. Disgruntled he was, and I was certain I might very well be on the receiving end of a scolding later that night. But the rebuke would have to wait, for my brother howled again, and I could detect both anticipation and anxiety.
We hurried into the open area in front of the station where the rickshaws normally congregated. At first appearance, the station was deserted, until something stepped out from the shadowy platform.
The creature stood over four feet tall at the shoulder. Like a hyena, it had a limping gait and a steeply sloping back but its ears were larger than a hyena and the snout shorter, more like a bear’s. Its long, shaggy coat was thick and reddish-brown with a slight streak of white down the hindquarters. Its long whiskers twitched, perhaps detecting the size of the brains we possessed.
“You’re not Drew,” I informed it.
“And you’re not listening,” Mr. Timmons said, and I had to assume he was directing that comment to me and not to the Kerit.
The Kerit snarled, revealing a healthy set of strong, sharp teeth.
“I think we can handle the one beast,” I said, stabbing the pointed end of my stick into the ground and drawing forth the bow and an arrow.
“Perhaps we’re being a tad hasty,” Mr. Timmons murmured as he placed a hand softly on my arm.
“Hasty?” I repeated and glanced about in time to see three
While I had always been able to observe another’s energies, I was not as competent at empathizing with the emotions therein. Yet caught up in the imploring gaze of Mr. Timmons, I experienced a rawness that was not my own, and a softening of the heart that was.
We stared at each other, silently battling pride and fear. I was the first to relent. My ire evaporated and when I spoke, it was to utter words that surprised my mind and delighted my heart: “Thank you, Mr. Timmons. I truly am grateful for your assistance.”
His eyes closed as if he were offering a brief prayer, and he said, “It’s always my pleasure.”
I glanced up and down the street; it was still deserted. “So you don’t like watching me endanger myself, hm? How often did you watch me?”
Mr. Timmons chuckled. “More than you know. I found myself following you around just to ensure you wouldn’t die before I could marry you. That night with the twin lion sisters, for example.”
“I thought you were after their energy,” I said as I tucked my walking stick under an arm and rubbed my arms with my hands to warm myself against a cool, dusty breeze and the aftereffect of intense emotions.
“Well, that too,” he admitted with his customary smug grin back in place.
“Are you two all right?” Mr. Elkhart shouted from the other end of Victoria Street. In the quiet, his voice echoed around us.
“Quite,” Mr. Timmons yelled back, then grasped both my hands in his. “Aren’t we?”
I experienced an unnatural constriction in my throat and didn’t dare lend voice to my thoughts. Instead, I merely nodded and gestured for him to proceed.
We rounded the corner and arrived just past the cluster of trees without being decapitated or dismembered. It was a pleasant realization, for to have in one’s possession all one’s limbs and members is most gratifying. Before I could congratulate myself on that matter, a haunting wail reminiscent of a tortured demon reverberated from the abandoned train station ahead of us, followed by what was undoubtedly the howl of a werewolf.
Chapter 17
“Drew!” I cried out. The recent exchange with my husband quite forgotten, I hastened ahead, my walking stick held at the ready while the bow and quiver bounced against my back.
“Dash it all,” Mr. Timmons muttered behind me.
I couldn’t help but admire his restraint, for he normally wasn’t one to use such mild language when miffed. Disgruntled he was, and I was certain I might very well be on the receiving end of a scolding later that night. But the rebuke would have to wait, for my brother howled again, and I could detect both anticipation and anxiety.
We hurried into the open area in front of the station where the rickshaws normally congregated. At first appearance, the station was deserted, until something stepped out from the shadowy platform.
The creature stood over four feet tall at the shoulder. Like a hyena, it had a limping gait and a steeply sloping back but its ears were larger than a hyena and the snout shorter, more like a bear’s. Its long, shaggy coat was thick and reddish-brown with a slight streak of white down the hindquarters. Its long whiskers twitched, perhaps detecting the size of the brains we possessed.
“You’re not Drew,” I informed it.
“And you’re not listening,” Mr. Timmons said, and I had to assume he was directing that comment to me and not to the Kerit.
The Kerit snarled, revealing a healthy set of strong, sharp teeth.
“I think we can handle the one beast,” I said, stabbing the pointed end of my stick into the ground and drawing forth the bow and an arrow.
“Perhaps we’re being a tad hasty,” Mr. Timmons murmured as he placed a hand softly on my arm.
“Hasty?” I repeated and glanced about in time to see three
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