"Yes," I say. "You know I would be upset."
Kalika squeezes the pigeon gently. "Would you be upset if I ripped this bird's head off?"
I am annoyed. "Why do you ask these silly questions?"
"To hear your answers."
"This sounds like a trick question," Seymour warns.
I hesitate. He's right. "If there is no reason to kill it, I would say you should leave it alone."
"Answer my question," she says.
"I would not be upset if you killed the bird."
Kalika rips the bird's head off. The tearing bone and tissue make a faint nauseating sound. Blood splashes over the front of my daughter's pretty white dress. Seymour almost faints. Casually, while still watching me, Kalika throws the remains of the bird over her shoulder and into the dark water below. It is only then I catch a glimmer of red light deep inside her pupils. The fire at the end of time, the Vedas call it. The smoky shadow of the final twilight. Kalika knows I see it for she smiles at me.
"You look upset, Mother," she says.
"You are cruel," I say. "Cruelness without rational thought is not far from insanity."
"I told you, I have my reasons." She wipes the blood on the left side of her face. "Tell me where Paula Ramirez's child is."
I glance at Seymour. "I can't," I say.
"Damn," he whispers, and he's not being funny.
"Why do you assume I am going to harm this child?" she asks.
"Because of your previous erratic behavior," I reply.
"If I had not killed Billy, you would not be here tonight. If I had not killed Eric, you would also not be here tonight."
"I didn't need Eric's death to survive the last twenty-four hours."
Kalika teases without inflection. "Really?"
She may be hinting at the fact that I am now a vampire, that I would never have gone through with the transformation without the motivation Eric's horrible murder gave me. She would be right on that point, if it is what she is hinting at. But I continue to hope she thinks I'm helpless. I feel I must attack soon, favorable position or not. The bird's death has not increased my faith in her nonviolent nature. She waits for me to respond.
"I cannot trust you around Paula's baby," I say, taking a step closer. "Surely you must understand that." When she doesn't answer right away, I ask, "What did you do to the police?"
"I fulfilled their karma."
"That's no answer."
Kalika moves closer to Seymour, standing now five feet from his left side. He can't even look at her. Only at me, the creature who saved him from AIDS, who inspires his stories, his savior and his muse. His eyes beg me for a miracle.
"What if I promise you that I will not hurt the child," Kalika says. "Will you take me to him?"
"No. I can't."
She acts mildly surprised. But there is no real emotion in her voice or on her face. Human expressions are merely tools toher. I doubt she feels anything at all, while eating or reading, walking or killing.
"No?" Kalika says. "Have I ever lied to you before?" She moves her arms as if stretching them. Blood drips from her sharp fingernails. In a microsecond, I know, she can reach out and grab Seymour and then it will all be over. She adds, "I am your daughter, but I do not have your habit of lying."
"Kalika," I plead. "Be reasonable. You refuse to tell me why you want to see this child. I can only conclude that you intend to harm it." I pause. "Is that not true?"
"Your question is meaningless to me."
I take another step forward. She is now only twelve feet away, but I want to be closer still. "What is so special about this child?" I ask. "You can at least tell me that."
"No."
"Why not?"
She is subtly amused. "It's forbidden."
"Oh, and killing innocent people isn't? Forbidden by whom?"
"You wouldn't understand." She pauses. "Where's Ray?"
I freeze in midstep. "He's gone."
She seems to understand. "He was forbidden." She glances at Seymour, smiles at him actually as a pretty girl might while flirting. But the words that come out of her mouth next are far from nice. They sound like a warning. She says, "Certain things, once broken, are better left unfixed."
The decision is made for me. Something in her tone tells me she is going to reach for Seymour and that his head will go over the railing as the bird's didand with the same emotional impact on Kalika, I attack.
My reclaimed vampiric body is no stranger to me. I have not needed time to readapt to it. Indeed it feels almost more natural than it used to. But I definitely decide to stick with an old technique of killingthe nose into the brain thrust. It is straightforward and effective. My only troubleas I tense my muscles to respondis that I still love her.
Kalika begins to reach out with her right arm.
I leap up and forward. My lift off the ground is effortless. If I were taped and the video later slowed down for viewing, the human eye would assume that gravity had no effect on me. Of course this is not trueI cannot fly. Only strength is responsible for the illusion. I whip toward Kalika, my right foot the hammer of Thor. I cock it backit will soon be over.
But somewhere in the air I hesitate. Just slightly.
Probably it makes no difference, but I will never know.
The red flames smolder deep in Kalika's eyes.
My divine hammer is forged of crude iron ore. My daughter grabs my foot before it can reach her face. Real time returns, and I begin a slow horizontal fall, helpless as she grips my foot tighter. Seymour cries in horror and my own cry is one of excruciating pain. She has twisted my ankle almost to the breaking point. I hit the asphalt with the flat of my back and the back of my skull. Kalika towers over me, still holding onto my boot. Her expression is surprisingly gentle.
"Does it hurt?" she asks.
I grimace. "Yes."
Kalika breaks my ankle. I hear the bones snap like kindling wood in a fire, and a wave of red agony slams up my leg and into my brain. As I writhe on the ground, she takes a step back and patiently watches me, never far from Seymour's side. She knows vampires. The pain is intense but it doesn't take long before I begin to heal. The effect of Yaksha's blood on my system no doubt speeds up the process. In two minutes I am able to stand and put weight on the ankle. But I will not be kicking her again in the next few minutes, and she knows it.