Colleen Houck


“I took hold of that scourge -filled ship and crushed it between my limbs, hurtling it into the second sun, the red one that gave me strength. But I was too late." Terraformer

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  • Kelsey’s Top 10 List of “Things a Girl Should Know About Dating a Tiger”

    January 13, 2014


    Kelsey’s Top 10 List of “Things a Girl Should Know About Dating a Tiger”

     

    1. The first thing you need to know is that tigers eat and they eat a lot so keep a backpack full of things they can snack on especially if the Golden Fruit isn’t available. Some favorites include: fried chicken bones, and all, giant sandwiches, and double chocolate chip peanut butter cookies. In fact, keeping a jar of peanut butter handy is always a good thing; just make sure you have a container of hand wipes.
    2. Whatever the tiger may say to convince you, don’t let him stalk you. It’s not a game or fun or romantic. It’s just plain scary. Trust me, I know.
    3.  Always carry a pack of sanitizing wipes to take care of the errant tiger arm licking.
    4. You might want to add a pair of tweezers to your bag. When walking through the jungle, tigers often get thorns and twigs stuck in their paws. It also helps if you need to remove porcupine barbs, for those times when the tiger ignores your advice and seeks out a porcupine snack.
    5. Watch out for their claws. Even though they try to be careful, I’ve been scratched accidentally several times. Try to angle yourself away from the claws whenever possible.
    6. Tigers are much like other cats. They save up all their energy for hunting and eating and chasing girls which means they like to sleep a lot. Get them a nice cozy rug and put it in the sunshine or near a window. It’s likely they’ll position themselves between you and the door. They feel much more relaxed and comfortable if they know you are settled safely behind them.
    7. When swimming watch out for the tiger version of the dive bomb aka a belly flop. It packs a real punch. Also let the tiger get out of the pool first and shake himself off before you get out. Side note: Tigers love it when their fur gets blow dried but they’d never admit it in public. Afterwards they look a bit like giant striped poodles who wandered accidentally into a beauty school.
    8. Use caution when sleeping near a tiger. They are very warm which is wonderful but remember they weigh about five hundred pounds. If they roll over they can pretty much smother you.
    9. Tigers like a lot of affection. They enjoy getting scratched behind the ear, kisses on the tops of their heads, and receiving pets on their shoulders and backs. They don’t like tail or whisker pulling and unless you want sandpaper tongue licks, avoid the face.
    10. Lastly, when dating a tiger you should call all your male relatives and friends and warn them to keep a distance. Tigers are very territorial and will not tolerate another male coming around what he considers his domain. Jealousy takes the form of huge martial arts battles and causes more trouble than it’s worth.

     

    Now that you know the basics, you’re ready to start looking for your own tiger. Sadly, there aren’t too many left in the world and the shape shifting type are even more difficult to find. I think a vacation in India would be the best bet.

     

     

    This entry was posted in Bonus Material, Top Ten Lists.

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    Categories
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    Colleen Houck

    New York Times Bestselling author Colleen Houck is a lifelong reader whose literary interests include action, adventure, paranormal, science fiction, and romance. When she's not busy writing, she likes to spend time chatting on the phone with one of her six siblings, watching plays, and shopping online. Colleen has lived in Arizona, Idaho, Utah, California, and North Carolina and is now permanently settled in Salem, Oregon with her husband and a huge assortment of plush tigers.

  • Rising Generation-The Original Ending to Tiger’s Destiny

    January 13, 2014


    Rising Generation

     TigersDestiny_final cover 4-25

    Wearily, I rubbed my eyes and fluffed the pillow behind my head.  I heard Ren’s warm voice as he crooned to our newborn son in the next room.  He was speaking to him softly in Hindi and though I still hadn’t mastered the language, I recognized the name Ren called our son—mera raja beta—which meant, my son the prince.

    I smiled and closed my eyes as I listened to him.  The baby loved to hear Ren’s voice as much as I did and always watched his father with wide eyes when he read stories or poems.

    Ren had been in his senior year of college and was just a few weeks away from graduation when we found out I was going to have a baby. The night I told him the news, I’d made his favorite dinner and gave him a present—a children’s book about tigers.

    He laughed and said, “Did you think I needed a reminder, Iadala?”

    “No,” I replied with a grin.

    Studying my expression, he narrowed his eyes. “You’re hiding something.”

    I shrugged playfully.

    Wrapping his hands around my waist, Ren pulled me onto his lap.  Nuzzling my ear, he murmured, “What can I do to convince you to share your secret, mere jaan?”

    After kissing him softly, I answered, “My secret, my very handsome husband, is that there will be another person for you to call ‘mere jaan.’

    He tilted his head quizzically.  “Kells, what do you—?”

    Interrupting him, I took his hand and slid it on top of my still flat belly.  I pressed my hand over his and saw the moment when he understood.

    “Are you sure?” he asked tenderly.

    I nodded and beamed.

    “And did the doctor say you’re okay?”

    “She said everything looked great.”

    Ren pressed his forehead to mine and let out a relieved laugh.  I wrapped my arms around his neck while he kissed my cheeks, my nose, and my forehead.  When his lips found mine, I wasn’t sure if I should attribute the flutterings in my stomach to my new pregnancy or the fact that Ren was touching me.

    **

    Now another year had gone by.  Two since our wedding.  We lived in a house that was way too large for our tiny family.  It had been built according to Ren’s design on a wide plot of forested land up on our mountain where we’d once had a little duplex.  Both of us had attended Western Oregon University with me graduating first because of his frequent absences.

    During the summer months I’d continued school while he flew back and forth between Oregon and India.  While he worked with Nilima to learn all about the business of Rajaram Industries, I took every class available so I wouldn’t miss him but it never worked.  Though we still had our divine connection and I could feel him even across the ocean, I still wanted him near.  I’d call him just to hear his voice and cuddle my old stuffed tiger at night.

    In the last month of my pregnancy, he made arrangements with his instructors to take time off from studying for his Masters and negotiated with Nilima to be away from the business so he could spend time with me and the baby.

    Our little son had been born at home, home being a relative term, since Ren had brought in a team of specialists and had a wing of the house redesigned to look like a state-of-the-art birthing center.  An Indian midwife was hired to work with me throughout my pregnancy and though we had doctors on call, she was the one who actually delivered our baby just after Christmas.

    Two months later we were celebrating Valentine’s Day.  Ren had started the day off by bringing me breakfast in bed.  He insisted on feeding me every single bite which was very romantic and then he left me to lounge while he took care of the baby.  We were going out to dinner later and he’d arranged to have a sitter come to watch our son.  I was nervous about it since it would be my first time away from him.

    My thoughts were interrupted when my gorgeous husband came into the room and gave me his special lopsided smile which still made my cheeks warm.  The baby was fussy so Ren brought him over to me.  I laid my newborn son on the bed and readjusted my grandmother’s quilt around his wiggling body.  As I snuggled him in my arms and pressed my lips to the downy cap of black hair, Ren settled himself next to me and snuck his arm around my shoulders, pulling my head back against his chest.

    “Little baby, why aren’t you sleepy?” I asked my squirming bundle.

    Ren pressed his lips to my forehead and we both laughed when the baby’s little fists shot out of the blanket and he kicked hard.

    “What a feisty little man you are, Anik Kishan Rajaram.” After wrapping the quilt around him again, I leaned against Ren and yawned.  “Maybe you should recite him a poem,” I suggested.

    He stroked the baby’s head and, with his arms cradling the both of us, began speaking in his soft, rhythmic, and still very hypnotic voice.

    If

    By Rudyard Kipling

    If you can keep your head when all about you

    Are losing theirs and blaming it on you,

    If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you

    But make allowance for their doubting too,

    If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,

    Or being lied about, don’t deal in lies,

    Or being hated, don’t give way to hating,

    And yet don’t look too good, nor talk too wise:

    If you can dream—and not make dreams your master,

    If you can think—and not make thoughts your aim;

    If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster

    And treat those two impostors just the same;

    If you can bear to hear the truth you’ve spoken

    Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,

    Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,

    And stoop and build ‘em up with worn-out tools:

    If you can make one heap of all your winnings

    And risk it all on one turn of pitch-and-toss,

    And lose, and start again at your beginnings

    And never breathe a word about your loss;

    If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew

    To serve your turn long after they are gone,

    And so hold on when there is nothing in you

    Except the Will which says to them: “Hold on!”

    If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,

    Or walk with kings—nor lose the common touch,

    If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you;

    If all men count with you, but none too much,

    If you can fill the unforgiving minute

    With sixty seconds’ worth of distance run,

    Yours is the Earth and everything that’s in it,

    And—which is more—you’ll be a Man, my son!

     

    Ren’s words trailed off and I whispered quietly, “Ren, look.”

    Our baby Anik had stopped fussing completely.  His little body was still and his eyes were wide open and focused on his father.  Ren held out a finger and a tiny fist opened and teeny fingers latched on.  As father and son looked into each other’s eyes a feeling of hushed enchantment swirled around us and I felt as if we were sitting in a mountain shrine.

    The silence was broken by a sniffle.  I glanced up at Ren and found his beautiful cobalt blue eyes full of tears.  He dashed them away with his free hand.

    “What is it?” I asked softly.

    “It’s…his eyes,” Ren said.

    I looked at my baby and touched my finger to his soft cheek.  Moving his head, he jerked it towards my finger as if he were still hungry.  He blinked and for a moment his bright golden eyes were hidden behind his almost translucent lids that were framed by thick dark eyelashes.  “Are you disappointed that they aren’t blue like yours?” I queried hesitantly.

    Pressing his lips to my temple, he let out a shaky breath and explained, “When Lokesh took you from the yacht, Kishan and I went looking for you.  During that time he told me that he’d had a vision of you with a little baby.”

    “Yes. I remember.  It was in the Grove of Dreams.”

    “What he didn’t tell you was that he lied to you about seeing the baby’s eyes.  In his vision your son had golden eyes.  So he thought—”

    “He must have thought that the baby was his.”

    “Yes.  All this time I believed that I had stolen his rightful place.  That his destiny was to be with you, when really Anik was always mine.  You were always meant to be mine.”

    “He never told me,” I whispered sadly.

    Ren touched my chin, turning me to face him.  “Do you regret it, Kelsey?”

    “Do I regret marrying you and having your baby?  Never.  Do I regret leaving him behind?  Every day.”

    As our baby closed his eyes, and drifted off to sleep, I asked, “Do you think about him?”

    “How could I not?  Every time I look at our son I think of my brother.  Kishan sacrificed himself so I could have what I always wanted.  My only hope is that he somehow found a measure of happiness.”

    A chime sounded interrupting our reminiscing and Ren got up to answer the door while I put baby Anik in his crib.  I climbed back into bed myself hoping for an afternoon nap but when Ren returned he brought in a stack of mail and a box.  He rifled through the mail and handed me a fancy envelope.  “It’s from Nilima,” he said.

    Sliding my fingers under the edge, I exclaimed, “It’s the wedding invitation!  They’re getting married this summer.”

    Ren grunted.  “It took Sunil long enough.”

    “It wasn’t entirely his fault.  Nilima was stubborn.”

    “Not unlike another woman I know,” he teased.

    “Their engagement picture is beautiful.”  I handed him the picture and picked up the big box he’d placed on the bed.  “What’s this?”

    “I don’t know.  It shipped from India.”

    He opened the box and took out a letter that had been laminated.  After a quick glance, he sat on the bed and said quietly, “It’s from Kadam.”

    “What?”  Incredulous, I swung my legs over the side and sat next to him.

    “It just contains instructions.  It says, ‘To be delivered upon the birth of Alagan Dhiren Rajaram’s first born son.  Signed Anik Kadam.”

    Ren set the page aside and took out a heavy wooden box.  The lock clicked open and he lifted the polished lid.  Both of us stared at the contents.

    “It’s the Scroll of Wisdom,” I whispered.  “The ocean teacher said we weren’t to read it until after the fifth sacrifice had been made.”

    Ren lifted the tube of glass and found the scroll was perfectly encased as if the glass had been blown around it.  There was no opening or way to remove the scroll without damaging the container.

    “I’ll have to break it,” Ren said.  He held the cylinder inside the packaging box and I heard a snap and the tinkling of broken glass as it fell.  Carefully, he shook the glass away from the ancient paper and set it between us.  The sheets of thick parchment quickly began to yellow around the edges.  I took hold of one wooden roller while Ren took the other and we spread out the pages on the bed between us.

    “Is that Sanskrit?” I asked.

    Ren nodded and started reading the first page.  “This part contains instructions for the Ocean Teacher.  It only includes the second prophecy as it related to him.  It says he was to preserve this scroll, use the liquid to anoint your eyes, and lead you to the spirit gate.  It goes into great detail where to find the gate and warns that this information is only to be shared with the three travelers who would appear.  It describes you, Kadam, and Kishan in great detail and talks about the yin/yang medallion.  The chosen one would see a cat, a tiger specifically.”

    “And this?” I pointed to the bottom.

    “The monks had been encouraged to make a copy of the writing up until this part before the document was sealed in the glass.  This section contains a warning.  It says that he who reads further will be subject to the punishment of the gods, his eyes will burn, and he will suffer indescribably.”

    “That can’t be good.”

    “No.”  He raised his eyes to meet mine.  “So do we read on?”

    “I don’t think Mr. Kadam would have given us something that would actually kill us.  Besides, the Ocean Teacher said that it was meant for us after the fifth sacrifice had been accomplished.  He said it contained the truth about the origins of the world.”

    I bit my lip as Ren rolled the completed section and then we both held our breath as he revealed the next portion.  A heavy wax insignia was the first thing we saw.  Ren trailed his fingers over it.  “It’s my family seal.  The house of Rajaram,” he said excitedly.

    Smoothing the paper flat for him, I watched intently as he ran his fingertip lightly over the words.  After reading a section to himself, he sat back with a look of shock.  He paled and reached for my hand.

    “What is it?” I asked anxiously.

    “It’s…it’s a letter to us.”

    “I don’t understand.”

    “Kelsey,” he gripped my hand tightly.  “It’s a letter from Kishan.”

    I gaped openly.  “But that’s…impossible.”

    “He sent us a letter, preserving it through time.”

    I tried ineffectually to swallow the lump in my throat.  “What does it say?”

    Ren adjusted the document over his lap and  began to read.

     

    Ren and Kelsey,

     

    I apologize for corresponding in such a dramatic fashion but I couldn’t risk either of you reading this before certain events had been set in motion.  I wouldn’t have written at all except that I wanted to dispel any worries either of you might retain over my decision to stay in the past.

     

    After you left, Durga and Damon spent many years serving all manner of people.  We built a home high in the clouds on the rocky slope of Mount Kailash.  Durga used the power of the Pearl Necklace to feed pure healing water to the five rivers of Asia—the Indus, the Sutlej, the Brahmaputra, the Karnali, and the Ganges.

     

    Our home was considered sacred to five world religions—Hinduism, Buddhism, Jainism, Ayyavazhi, and the Bön and many made pilgrimages to worship Durga at the mountain base.  Any who attempted to climb up to our home were dispelled quickly and soon word spread that the gods protected their home and all attempts to reach us ceased.

     

    In the beginning we would descend on a cloud daily to serve as arbitrators in settling disputes for the people.  Anamika would bestow gifts of food, clothing, and healing.  If a supplicant came and told of famine or drought, we would use the Rope of Fire to travel quickly to those locations and resolve the issue.  We refused to side in wars but to the innocent Durga was a kind and benevolent goddess.

     

    Anamika and I formed a bond of friendship and respect that led to love.  We were married and had many children and grandchildren.  We aged very slowly and as our posterity made their way in the world, we kept vigil on our mountainside and watched the decades pass.

     

    Eventually, the acolytes grew fewer in number and we knew that Durga and her powers were no longer needed.  We left our home and traveled, secretly helping people when we saw a need.

     

    The peoples of Asia thrived under her hands.  She inspired artists, poets, political reform, religion, and social harmony.  I am proud to have served as her companion and I am blessed that she agreed to be my wife.

     

    We have had a very long and a happy life and it would have been wrong for me to leave you thinking that I was miserable or disappointed with the choice I made.  It took me some time to learn to live without you, Kelsey, and I’ll admit that there were many times I cursed my decision to stay behind, but destiny treated me well and I have a family and a life that has enriched me and made me a better man.

     

    Speaking of family, Phet informed me that I am my own ancestor.  One of my descendants was my great, great, great grandfather which means your baby gets his eyes from me.  I’m sorry I kept that from you, bilauta.

     

    Ren, forgive me for my jealous impetuous youth.  Whatever good I have done in the world, whatever strides I have made as a man, it was because I was able to look to my brother for an example.  For what it’s worth, you would have made a great king.  I know you are a good husband and will be an excellent father.

     

    Congratulations on the birth of your first born son.  Fatherhood is an experience unlike anything else.  Treasure your time with your family for the days pass quickly.

     

    Kelsey, there is still a piece of my heart that belongs to you.  I have cherished it all these centuries.  You were the angel that saved me from a life squandered and your influence has impacted me in more ways than you know.  The warmth, kindness, and love you offered when you decided to save two lost tigers changed the course of my life.  A happy ending was promised and a happy ending was delivered. Every single day my heart swells with gratitude for you.

     

    If there is one regret that I have, it’s that I wish I could pass through the long centuries with you.  I miss you both, but I know that your lives will be full and rich.  May your love for one another continue to grow and may you find joy in the life you build together.

     

    Perhaps in another time and another place we will meet again.

     

    Kishan.

    A tear trickled down my cheek.  Ren let go of the scroll and the curved pages twisted loosely back together.  He put his arm around me and pulled me close, cuddling me against his chest.  As if knowing we were sad, little Anik, uncle Kishan’s namesake, let out a heart wrenching wail.  I laughed and wiped my eyes.

    “I’d say he’s got a pretty good roar, wouldn’t you?” I asked.

    Ren rubbed my back and replied, “I wouldn’t expect anything less from a Rajaram.”

     

    This entry was posted in Bonus Material, Tiger's Destiny.

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    Categories
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    Colleen Houck

    New York Times Bestselling author Colleen Houck is a lifelong reader whose literary interests include action, adventure, paranormal, science fiction, and romance. When she's not busy writing, she likes to spend time chatting on the phone with one of her six siblings, watching plays, and shopping online. Colleen has lived in Arizona, Idaho, Utah, California, and North Carolina and is now permanently settled in Salem, Oregon with her husband and a huge assortment of plush tigers.

  • Pirates-A Deleted Chapter from Tiger’s Voyage (Chapter 18)

    January 13, 2014


    Chapter 18     Pirates

    Tiger's Voyage

    He stood on the bow of his ship staring at the moon.  His frame trembled and his teeth gnashed.  Off the stern, the city lights of Mahabalipuram twinkled.  He sneered and spat over the side of the boat.  It had been easy enough to figure out that the Deschen had docked there.  Do the tigers really think that I am that old?  So feeble-minded that I would forget the name of their motherNo.  They were just stupid.  Weak.  Like their father had been.  Rajaram had run away rather than face him.  He’d hid his family in the jungle, leaving his people to fend for themselves.

    After the royal family had escaped with the amulets, he’d lost interest in taking the throne.  His intention had been to kill Rajaram and his sons and take Deschen for his bride.  She obviously was capable of bearing strong sons, unlike his other wife.  She’d only given him one child, Yesubai.  He rubbed his jaw.  A girl.  She was simple and cowering like her mother.  At least she’d been beautiful like her mother had been.  Despite his former wife’s beauty, he’d killed her in a rage when she bore him a girl.  He hadn’t intended to kill her…then.  He shrugged.  His temper had been harder to control during that time.

    But a few years later, he met Deschen.  Now there was a woman full of fire.  The air crackled when she entered the room.  Part of the fun of taking her would have been to break that spirit.  To make her abase herself.  Submit to him and him alone.  The fight would have been exquisite.  He imagined sinking his teeth into her soft shoulder as she cried out in fear, and smiled.

    Below him the water roiled.  Sharks circled the ship.  Fins broke the water and then disappeared.  A twenty-foot great white raised its head above the surface and snapped its powerful jaws at nothing, making a horrible sound like a bear trap springing shut.  Lokesh studied the slick animals.  They’d obviously responded to his mood.  He’d noticed that predators from the sea, the earth, and the sky appeared to do his bidding when he touched those pieces of amulet.  A pity he hadn’t learned about that power until recent years.  Still, his circling friends had given him inspiration.  He called his minions to bring out the prisoners one at a time.

    They brought the maid to him first.  Throwing her on the deck at his feet they stood by and watched with pleasure as he questioned her again half-heartedly.  He was fairly certain that the crew of the Deschen did not know the whereabouts of those he sought, but perhaps they could remember some minor detail that would help him figure out what to do next.  He pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped his hands.  Filthy ship.  He’d hired a boat of mercenaries who knew the seas and had no scruples against kidnapping and murder as long as they were paid.  Unfortunately, finding a crew of that sort meant he had to subsist in less than his standard accommodations.

    He kicked the woman lightly in the shoulder with his polished shoe.  She rolled over and moaned but didn’t open her eyes.  The pirates had tortured the woman to the point of unconsciousness.  Imbeciles.  How was he supposed to question her if she couldn’t keep her eyes open?  He sighed and noticed she was missing a hand.  The stub at the end of her arm was wrapped with filthy rags covered in black blood.

    Amateurs.  Didn’t they know that working with the fingers and hands was not only one of the most painful methods of torture, almost guaranteeing cooperation, but that it also prolonged the experience?  Once the hand was cut off, it was only a matter of time until the victim expired.  There was no use keeping the woman.  She knew nothing.  “Toss her overboard,” he commanded.  The men didn’t even hesitate.  They knew his punishments were swift and severe.  He told the men to bring over the next victim, warning them that the next few better be conscious.

    He interviewed a deck hand, the kitchen help, and even a shopkeeper from a pet store in town, but none of them had any fresh information to give him.  He fed them one by one to the sharks saving the boat captain for last.  As he waited for the captain to be brought, he thought irritably about the fine son Deschen would have given him.  An heir.  He would have been splendid—as tall and courageous as Dhiren, as brawny and powerful as Kishan, but with his own wisdom, cunning, and thirst for power.  A son of his own blood.  He and his son would have ruled the world.  But what he’d hoped for with Deschen had disappeared with her family.

    Then a stroke of fate brought the tigers back into his life again.  The amulets had surfaced.  Destiny smiled on him.  Once again he felt the hope of uniting the amulet.  True, Deschen was dead, probably a decayed corpse in an unmarked grave, her sons being unable to spread her ashes on the Ganges due to their unfortunate bestial natures.  Fortunately for him, her sons had found a satisfactory replacement.  Miss Hayes.  Kelsey.  Not as striking in appearance, but what she lacked in stature she made up for in power.  Yes.  She had the same fiery bravery that Deschen had possessed.  She was American which was not to his taste, but she was young enough to bear him a child with ease.

    Surely she was special if she had caught the attention of both the tigers, and it would give him a perverse pleasure to take her away from the sons of Rajaram.  The men of that family had been a thorn in his side for centuries.  He might even let the tigers live so he could revel in the helpless turmoil it would cause them to know that he possessed the girl utterly.  It was quite possible that he wouldn’t be able to kill the brothers until he reunited the amulet anyway.  Dhiren seemed to be able to survive almost any kind of torture, including starvation.  Yes.  Caging them and making them watch as he subdued the girl would be highly pleasurable.

    He rubbed his hands together in anticipation and small waves rocked the ship.  He consciously put his hands to his sides, stilling his powers, and turned as he heard the captain being brought on deck.  The man’s right eye was swollen shut and he had bloody lacerations across his chest and arms, but he walked under his own power.  Lokesh removed his cuff links and rolled up his crisply starched white shirt sleeves.

    “Ah.  Captain Dixon is it?”

    The captain hesitantly nodded.

    “You know what I want you to tell me, do you not?”

    “Aye.  Ya want ta know da wheraboots of me boss and his fomily, eh?”

    Lokesh smiled.  “Very astute of you.  Well?”

    “Ya know nun of us know whare dey are.  Da ship, she disappear’n.  We all was very worried ta tell ya da trut.  We filed da reports on da missing ship already.  If you be harmin’ dem, dey atorities gwanna know aboot it.”

    “What makes you think I intend them harm?”

    The captain straightened up and just gave him a look.

    Lokesh frowned and glanced at the assembly standing behind the captain.  “I suppose we are a bit too obvious.  Then tell me, friend, where you docked, what was your destination, and who were your passengers.  What were they doing here in Mahabalipuram?”

    The captain stubbornly shut his mouth and wouldn’t open it again.  Lokesh slapped the man hard across the face, used his handkerchief to wipe his hand, and indicated that the motley crew could take over from there.  The pirates beat the man until he could no longer stand.  Blood trickled from the man’s scalp down a brown freckled cheek.

    Lokesh crouched down in feigned sympathy.  “Do reconsider your stand.  Noble as it is to protect your employer, you surely don’t want to be fed to the sharks.  Do you?”

    He gestured to have the pirates bring the captain to the rail and they all stared at the water below.  The moon was full but the waters were black and though it was too dark to make out what the sharks were eating, everyone could hear it—the chomping, the crack of bones breaking, the splashing of slick torpedo shaped bodies as they rushed after succulent pieces, the tails swishing back and forth as the jaws worked to rip the flesh off in chunks to swallow whole.

    Lokesh smiled.  Sharks were creatures to admire.  The ocean is as full of fish as the world is full of people.  The only difference is that in the ocean, predators are born.  In the human world a man chooses for himself what he will be.  He can be the predator or he can be the prey.  A man can learn to rip to pieces those who stand against him, crack the backbones of all who would oppose, and swallow his enemies.  Long ago he had decided that he wanted to be at the top of the food chain and now there was only one family left who stood in his way.

    One of the pirates vomited over the side of the ship.  The stench of half-digested food, stomach acid, and stale beer wafted through the air.  Lokesh grimaced in disgust and turned back to the captain.  The captain returned his gaze bravely despite knowing his death was moments away.  Lokesh admired bravery in a man.  He used his power to nudge the feet of the pirate who vomited.  The man fell over the side and into the melee of the feeding frenzy below.  The screams were quickly silenced.  Lokesh briefly considered that he might like to have in his employ a captain as loyal as this one was, and considered keeping him alive, but with regret he knew that this was not the type of man to be bought.  He sighed and had the men back away.

    “Last chance, Mr. Dixon.  Tell me about Kadam and the others.”  He waited several seconds.

    The captain finally said, “Even if I knew where dey was, nothin’ is what I’d be saying ta ya you now, sir.”

    “You have no care for your life then?”

    The captain answered, “Since I was a young boy playin’ in da water, I know’d dat ma bodee wood be laid ta rest far away from de shores.  Ma bones wood lie on de bottom of de ocean.  Da sea, you see…she is ma wife and yon sharkies are ma childr’n.  I go ta her arms ta die in her embrace.  I hab no regrets.”

    Lokesh, disappointed and resigned, clapped the captain on the arm and used the power of the wind to pick him up and send him over the rail.  To his credit, the captain fell silently.  The winds cushioned the man on his way down and captain Dixon dropped slowly, turning in the air as if he was lying on a fluffy mattress.

    Light as a feather, he descended towards the black water and when he at last touched it, the waves folded over him like a dark blanket.  Silently his body sunk and was quickly followed by the sharks.  Lokesh mentally commanded the sharks to not eat the man but to clamp on and escort the captain to his watery bed below.  The fins disappeared.  Soon the water was as black and as still as the soul of the man who stood at the rail watching.

     

    This entry was posted in Bonus Material, Tiger's Voyage.

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    Colleen Houck

    New York Times Bestselling author Colleen Houck is a lifelong reader whose literary interests include action, adventure, paranormal, science fiction, and romance. When she's not busy writing, she likes to spend time chatting on the phone with one of her six siblings, watching plays, and shopping online. Colleen has lived in Arizona, Idaho, Utah, California, and North Carolina and is now permanently settled in Salem, Oregon with her husband and a huge assortment of plush tigers.