it was bright red too. When I looked back up, the image of the other person solidified.
Lokesh. He was dressed in a business suit. His dark hair was slicked back, and I noticed that he wore several rings. His medallion was also glowing red and was much larger than ours.
His deceitful eyes glittered when he smiled.
“Ah! I’ve been wondering when I’d see you again.” He spoke politely as if we were getting reacquainted at an afternoon tea party. “You have cost me a great deal in time and resources, my dear.”
I watched him silently and flinched as he appraised me in a disturbing way.
Lokesh spoke quietly, menacingly, “We’ve not the time for the niceties of the game I would prefer, so I’ll be blunt. I want the medallion you’re wearing. You will bring it to me. If you do, I will let your tiger live. If you don’t . . .” He took a knife out of his pocket and tested its sharpness on a thumb. “I will find you, slit your throat . . .” He looked directly into my eyes to conclude his threat, “and take it from your bloody neck.”
Mr. Kadam countered, “Leave the young lady out of this. I will meet you and give you what you want. In exchange, you will let the tiger go free.”
Lokesh turned to Mr. Kadam and smiled unpleasantly. “I do not recognize you, my friend. I am interested to know how you acquired the amulet. If you wish to negotiate, you may contact my business office in Mumbai.”
“And which office would that be, my friend?”
“Find the tallest building in Mumbai; my office is the penthouse.”
Mr. Kadam nodded as Lokesh continued to give instructions. As they talked, I studied the hazy scene that had appeared behind Lokesh. I memorized as many details as I could. A man was speaking to him, but Lokesh paid him no heed.
The servant behind Lokesh had black hair that was swept forward into a bun resting just above the top of his hairline. Across the length of his forehead, he had a line of black tattoos that looked like the Sanskrit words from the prophecy. Bare-chested, the man wore loops of handmade bead necklaces. His ears were pierced in several places with golden hoops. He was also pulling along another man and gestured to him.
The second man stood farther back with his head hanging down. Matted, filthy black hair hung in his face. Bleeding and bruised, he struggled against the hands of the man holding him. The servant yelled and yanked the man forward until he staggered and fell to his knees. Then he slapped him across the face and yanked his shoulders back. As the injured man looked up, his hair fell to the side, and I gazed into piercing cobalt blue eyes.
Overcome with emotion, I took a step forward and shouted, “Ren!”
He didn’t hear me. His head drooped down to his chest. I started crying.
Someone did hear me, though—Lokesh. He narrowed his eyes and whipped around to see what I was looking at. He tried to speak to his servants, but they didn’t hear him. He turned back to me and, for the first time, studied the wispy images behind my shoulder. Everything was already fading. I couldn’t tell if Lokesh recognized Kishan or not. I froze and willed him to see only me.
Lokesh did focus his attention on me. He gestured to Ren and, with false sympathy, clucked his tongue.
“How terribly painful it must be for you to see him like this. You know, between you and me, he screams out for you when I torture him. Unfortunately for him, he’s been quite unforthcoming as to your whereabouts.” He chuckled, “He won’t even tell me your first name, though I already know what it is. It’s Kelsey, isn’t it?”
Lokesh watched my expression carefully waiting for me to give away a clue.
He continued his mocking diatribe. “It’s become something of a sticking point between us. The prince is so tight-lipped he won’t even confirm your given name. I must say I expected as much. He’s always been quite stubborn. More tears? How sad. He can’t hold out forever, you know. The pain alone should have killed him by now.
“Fortunately, his body seems quite resilient.” He watched me out of the corner of his eyes while he cleaned microscopic dirt from under his fingernails. “I have to admit, I’ve quite enjoyed torturing him. It’s the best of both worlds seeing him suffer both as a