Page 35 of Tiger's Curse
Ren smiled at me widely and almost knocked me off my feet. He took hold of a wisp of my hair that had come loose in the breeze, tucked it behind my ear, and said, “Did you like your flowers?”
I just stared at him, then blinked and managed to squeak out a tiny yes. He nodded, satisfied, and gestured to the patio chairs. I bobbed my head faintly and sucked in a breath as he took my elbow and guided me to a chair. After making sure I was comfortable, he moved to the chair opposite from me. I guess because I was just staring at him and couldn’t come up with a coherent thought of my own, he began speaking.
“Kelsey, I know you have many questions for me. What would you like to know first?”
I was mesmerized by his bright blue eyes, which somehow sparkled even in the dark. Finally, I snapped out of it. I mumbled the first thought that came to mind: “You don’t look like other Indian men. Your . . . your eyes look . . . different and . . .” I stammered lamely.Why can’t I get it together?
If I sounded idiotic, Ren didn’t seem to notice.
“My father was of Indian descent, but my mother was Asian. She was a princess from another country who was betrothed to my father to become his bride. Plus, I’m more than three hundred years old, which might make a difference too, I suppose.”
“More than three hundred years old! That means you were born in—”
“I was born in 1657.”
“Right.” I fidgeted.Apparently, I find older men extremely attractive.“Then why do you look so young?”
“I don’t know. I was twenty-one when I was cursed. I haven’t aged since then.”
About a million questions popped into my mind and I suddenly felt the need to try to solve this puzzle.
“What about Mr. Kadam? How old is he? And how does Mr. Kadam’s boss fit into this? Does he know about you?”
He laughed. “Kelsey. I’m Mr. Kadam’s boss.”
“You?Youare his wealthy employer?”
“We don’t really define our relationship that way, but what he said was more or less accurate. Mr. Kadam’s age is more complicated. He’s actually a bit older than me. He was once my man-at-arms and my father’s trusted military advisor. When I fell under the curse, I ran to him and was able to change to a man long enough to tell him what had happened. He quickly organized things, hid my parents and our wealth, and has been my protector ever since.”
“But, how can he still be alive? He should have died a long time ago.”
Ren hesitated. “The Damon Amulet protects him from aging. He wears it around his neck and never takes off.”
I flashed back to our plane ride and remembered catching a glimpse of Mr. Kadam’s pendant. I shifted forward in my seat.
“Damon? Isn’t that the name of Durga’s tiger?”
“Yes, the name of Durga’s tiger and the amulet are the same. I don’t know much about the connection or the amulet’s origins. All I know is that the amulet was broken into several parts a long time ago. Some say there are four pieces, each representing the basic elements, the four winds, or even the four points of the compass. Some say there are five or even more. My father gave me his piece, and my mother gave hers to Kishan.
“The man who placed the tiger’s curse on me wanted our pieces of the amulet. That’s why he double-crossed Kishan. No one is sure what kind of power the amulet would wield if all the pieces were reassembled. But he was ruthless and would stop at nothing to claim all the pieces and find out.”
Ren continued, “Mr. Kadam wears my piece of the amulet now. We believe that the amulet’s power has protected him and kept him alive all this time. Though he’s aged, it has been, thankfully, very slow. He is a trusted friend who has given up much to help my family through the years. I can never repay my debt to him. I don’t know how I would have survived all this time without him.” Ren looked out across the pool and whispered, “Mr. Kadam cared for my parents until their deaths and watched over them when I couldn’t.”
I leaned over to place my hand on top of his. I could sense his sadness as he thought about his parents. His lonely ache filled me somehow and entwined with my own. He turned his hand over and began absentmindedly stroking my fingers with his thumb as he stared out at the landscape, wrapped in his own thoughts.
Normally, I would have felt awkward or embarrassed holding hands with a man I’d just met. Instead, I felt comforted. Ren’s loss echoed my own, and his touch gave me a sense of peace. As I looked at his handsome face, I wondered if he felt the same way. I understood the sting of isolation. The counselors at school had said that I didn’t mourn or grieve enough after my parents’ death and that it prevented me from forming bonds with other people. I always shied away from deep relationships. I realized that in a way, we were both alone, and I felt great compassion for him in that moment. I couldn’t imagine three hundred years without human contact, without communication, without anyone looking into my eyes and knowing who I am. Even if I had been uncomfortable, I couldn’t have denied him that moment of human contact.
Ren shot me a warm, lazy smile, kissed my fingers, and said, “Come, Kelsey. You need to sleep, and my time is almost up.”
He pulled me up so that I stood very close to him, and I almost stopped breathing. As he held my hand, I felt a slight tremor pass through the tips of my fingers. He pulled me along to my door, said a quick goodnight, bowed his head, and then was gone.
The next morning I investigated my new clothing situation, courtesy of Ren. I was surprised to see that they were mostly jeans and shirts, modern clothes that American girls would wear. The only difference was that these were the bright, vivid colors of India.
I zipped open one cellophane bag in the closet and was amazed to find a silky blue Indian-style dress. It was detailed with tiny silver teardrop pearls all over the skirt and bodice. The dress was so beautiful I rushed to try it on.
The skirt slid smoothly over my head and down my arms to settle at my waist. It fit snugly at the top of my hips. From there, it fell to the floor in swirling, heavy folds—heavy because of the hundreds of pearls clustered at the bottom hem. The bodice was cap sleeved and also copiously beaded with pearls. It fit tightly and ended just above my belly button, which gave me two inches of waistline exposure all around. Normally, I would never wear midriff-exposing clothing, but this dress was stunning. I twirled around in front of the mirror feeling like a princess.
Because of the dress, I decided I would make an extra effort with my hair and makeup. I retrieved my seldom-used compact and brushed on blush, some dark eye shadow, and blue liner. I finished it off with mascara and a pink-tinted lip gloss. Then, I pulled out my braids from the night before and finger combed through the locks of hair, arranging them in soft curls down my back.
