A human is made up of many colours.

****

After the pertinent realisation, it became a little easier for Maya to navigate the house and talk with the members. She knew who they were at least, even if not the history of their existence. The strange marks on Ram's body could be now explained; those were inflicted upon him by the vampires of the house.

She pushed aside the thoughts and ate the meal. Today breakfast was cooked by Ram and not Khirodh, so of course it was tasty and edible, perfect for humans. Maya had read in books about how vampire's didn't have a strong taste bud and were denied the pleasure of experiencing the palette of human-made delicacies. The restriction perhaps put Khirodh in a position to also not be able to cook well, since she didn't have the good idea of flavours.

Little by little the puzzle pieces fell together. Maya felt relief wash over her.

Not so soon, no... I need to know how the murders of Abhinoy and the girls are connected.

Mrinmoyee sat with the men of her family, shocking Maya. Maybe it was because Kalikacharan wasn't present with them, and the other men of the family could easily break the rule of how women couldn't be equal to men. It warmed her heart. Perhaps there was some kindness left in them.

"Open your mouth, Mrino." Mrinjay brushed his palm over her lips. She parted them, and he fed her the omelette. She saw that Mrinmoyee's omelette was almost green with chillies. Maya pitied the vampires now. They need too much of everything to devour and relish.

"Mrinjay, I want to eat pineapple. Can you ask Ram to get them?"

"Yes! Manihar, go and ask Ram to buy a big pineapple–"

"No!" Maya exclaimed, startling the two men and the pregnant lady. Her protective instincts had been aroused. "Pregnant women don't eat pineapple. It can induce early labour."

The three members of the Das gulped. Worry was written over their faces, as if they were almost caught. Mrinmoyee held Mrinjay's palm tightly and looked between the two brothers.

Maya suddenly realised that they were vampires, and not humans, so maybe the rule of no pineapples didn't apply there. "It's just a suggestion."

"I-I don't need pineapples," Mrinmoyee whispered. "I am happy with the omelette."

"Yes, if Maya says it's harmful, you shouldn't eat it," Mrinjay said.

Maya completed her food and went outside in the gardens of the Das. She stood near the fountain and admired the fragrant flowers around. The vampires did have a good taste for beauty. Mrinjay had earlier pointed out that he was a refined man. Maya chuckled to herself. It was great that they didn't yet come for her blood.

On that note, do they drink human blood?

This fact hadn't been so disturbing to her in the younger days. It was rather an element of fascination that a brave child would harbour, wondering about the powers and quirks of being a vampire. But now, when she was indeed living together with vampires, her stomach twisted and she clamped her mouth. Not in her wildest dreams had she imagined herself being with these creatures of books. The supernatural was breathing all around her, thriving along with the human race.

And presently, standing beside her. A hand tapped her shoulder. A chill ran down her spine. Slowly, she turned back to see Mrinjay. "Oh, hello."

Mrinjay offered her some pickled onions which he was eating from a bowl. "Want some? Mrinmoyee always has these. I thought, why not taste them myself?"

Maya laughed and took a bite. "Delicious!" She smacked her lips. "Ram made it?"

"Yes. He is such a good cook."

"But he gave too many chillies in Mrinmoyee's omelette. She shouldn't have so much spice."

Mrinjay coughed. "Oh well, you see, maybe having them once won't harm her. She needs to have elevated tastes."

A crow with red eyes and bluish black feathers came and sat near the fountain, and drank water from it. Mrinjay cocked his head to the side and squinted. "Such a strange looking fellow."

As strange as you all. "Probably a mixed breed."

"Crows and mixed breeds? Maya, you know how to joke!" Mrinjay raised his brows. He shifted his attention to the crow which was also intently looking at the two. It cawed once, bending its head to the side. "It's as if it's scrutinising us."

"Caww." The crow called.

Maya knew this crow came to meet Khirodh, but the other members didn't have knowledge of it. Ah, what had she named it? Chandrasekhara. Such a magnificent crow and such a peaceful name. "It perhaps wants to tell us something."

"That I shouldn't eat the pickles meant for my wife?" Mrinjay chortled. "But yes, this crow is weird. I am not used to birds sizing me up. They are not desirable."

Maya could feel his gaze on her. It made her uncomfortable. She faked a smile. Is this man going around with a facade too? Ah, why not!

"What do you then desire?" she asked, pretending to not understand the underlying meaning.

Mrinjay hummed. "Riches, power. Anything that someone worthy would want."

"And how far would you go for that?"

Mrinjay's eyes shone like copper. "As far as I can. There's no limit to the ambitions of a man, and to be great, one must be ready to sacrifice a lot."

Sacrifice? Ah, definitely. "I find the ladder to be eternal. There's no end to it. There's no peak. I may climb forever, become dejected and exhausted."

"There's a joy in pursuing what seems impossible. Because when you get it, you feel like the king of the world."

The words must have triggered the crow, which at once attacked Mrinjay. It flapped its wings over his head and attempted to hit with its beak. Mrinjay shouted. "Damn this bird! This is insane!" He managed to scratch the bird's neck with the edge of the bowl, but the crow wasn't stopping.

Maya, instead of feeling disturbed, was at peace with what occurred. With a slight amusement she watched the drama unfold, and then Mrinjay excused himself and ran inside the house, cursing the crow on the way, even vowing to kill it the next time he saw the creature. After the man left, the crow came near Maya's feet. She knelt and caressed the bird. It fluffed up in happiness and rubbed its body against her hand. "Just like the inhabitants of this house aren't just humans, you also are not just a crow."

The crow ducked his head and took steps back.

"You understand me, don't you? You know the language of humans. Perhaps every crow does, but what makes you special is your connection to the Das."

The crow went near one of the bushes, plucked a little flower, and kept it near her feet. Maya's eyes widened. "Oh, trying to flatter me? No, I won't melt!"

Maya opened her palm, and the crow took up the flower and placed it in her grasp. Then, it flew away.

Maya bit the insides of her cheek. Vampires, crows, deaths... Khatra was no ordinary place.

****

Maya took a candle and went to the topmost floor of the mansion where the portraits were present. She had a sudden idea to inspect those. Her intuition sensed something was off about the observations she had made earlier, perhaps missing a certain point.

"The portraits of Rudrapratap, the unknown grandfather of Kalikacharan Babu, Benoy Das and Kalikacharan Das himself with a little Mrinjay..." She counted them. "And only two women amongst the men– one is Kalikacharan Babu's mother and another is the mystery lady."

"The fact that her portrait was hung meant at some point, when it was commissioned, her importance was there in the family. And all the portraits are hung in a chronological order, generation after generation, so it means this lady is either Kalikacharan Babu's sister or wife."

She could easily find out if Kalikacharan Babu had a sister or not. If not, she would assume it to be his wife.

"Which means, the mother of the three sons fell out of favour. Or maybe something happened which implored the Das to bring her to ruination, remove her presence from history."

She scanned the portraits of the men. "Were they all vampires?" But Rudrapratap Das and his son don't look young enough. Both the portraits were taken at an old age. "Only that of Benoy Das looks good enough to be called a vampire's portrait. So, is he the first vampire of the family?" And if so, how did he become one?

Then another thing clicked in her mind– Kalikacharan Babu, despite being a vampire, had clear signs of old-age on his body, unlike his children.

"Aren't vampires supposed to stop ageing after one point?"

Maya was confused. Maybe what she had read about vampires wasn't entirely true in reality, or maybe she was unaware of something.

She touched the portrait of Benoy's father, the man whose name Kalikacharan refused to elucidate. Maya felt the canvas, the dents formed in it and the dirt clinging to the sides. Her fingers ran over some letters embedded on the frame. She wiped the dirt in a hurry and brought the candle close to it. There was his name, written in the Bengali alphabet.

"রক্তিম দাস ।"

And what she read made her jaw drop.

Raktim Das.