Love is the most complicated emotion.

****

When Maya came back to the Das mansion in the morning, she was welcomed with cold stares. None of the men dared to question her where she was, however they expressed their indignation through their measured words and calculative sighs.

Upon returning back, Maya found the whole mansion to be immersed in the last rituals of the late Abhinoy Das. The Das were all wearing black tunics with red embroidery and grey dhotis, contrary to the ways of a normal Bengali shraddha, where one was supposed to wear white. No one was invited. In the garden, a place had been cleaned and all the grass uprooted. There, inside a circle drawn with salt, sat a lone Mrinjay, with what seemed to be a bowl full of blood with half-burnt rose petals floating over it. He was chanting in an unknown language from a book.

Maya had had a heavy breakfast of bread, two boiled eggs, potato curry and papad at Raktim's house and the sight of blood gave her the urge to puke. The smell of blood was ignorable at first, yet as time passed by Maya grew even more familiar to it, and the sense of it being truly blood grew stronger. She wished she had stayed back at Raktim's house. Even though Maya was convinced they had more similarities than initially lucid, at least that doctor was less weird than the Das men.

Kalikacharan noticed Maya staring with narrowed slits at the bowl of ichor, and he came and stood beside her. The thudding of his cane broke Maya's focus. "Yes, that's blood that you see. And now when you know who we are, it should not be a shock. Don't ask though how we get our supply of blood; I can assure you it's done in the same ethical way as all other vampires around the world do. You aren't interested in knowing our rulebook, are you?"

"Not really. I suppose I am not close enough to get such a precious glimpse of your lives. And yet I am here, witnessing this event that will remain as an epochal discovery." She smiled at him sympathetically. "Must not be a day you wished to see."

"It's unfathomable, this feeling of losing one's son before losing oneself. It's a shame upon a father. Sometimes I wonder why the maniac didn't kill me instead of my son."

"Maybe the maniac wanted Abhinoy and not you."

"What did he have to offer which I didn't? I have sinned too great to be killed. To be honest, I am to be blamed for everything."

"You think so?"

"Sometimes I do, yes. I guess I am softened by the draughts of this emotional day, so I shall open up." He sat on the grassy ground and Maya followed suit. "We as vampires have many secrets to keep. It was why I never wanted you to know who we are in reality. But it was foolish of me."

"Knowing who you are actually makes the case more intense, because it's not easy to kill one. You all are almost immortal. But I guess that almost part got too far. Being aware of your truth will help me get to the murderer faster."

"I get it now, Maya. I think I should have told you earlier who we were. That would have made things simpler. But I had doubts in my mind– if you would even take up the case after that, or if I was risking too much."

"Are there secrets still unknown to me?"

Kalikacharan's fancy smile felt more like a trick of the light. "I would suggest you do not venture there. Find the murderer of my son, hand them to me, and leave with your fees. I shall praise you in our vampire circle and promise to help you whenever you need me."

"Sounds like a deal, but what if I want more, because this is a golden opportunity."

"What do you want?"

"Let's say, a superhuman capability, like–"

Kalikacharan roared. His laughter was so loud and untamed that Mrinjay stopped the ritual and glared back at his father, who controlled his lunacy soon. "Anything is possible," he whispered, "if you are ready to pay the price. I assure that I am there to bargain in your favour."

Maya pressed her lips. I see.

Kalikacharan scooted closer to her, almost breathing near her ears. "Have you got any idea whom Mrinjay is suspecting as my son's killer?"

"I think I do. I don't have enough proof for it though, it's just my intuition."

"Can you share me the name?"

"It would be against my morals."

"Ah, I understand."

"But why did you ask such a question?"

Kalikacharan reddened. His bald head sweated under the sun. "My son is very vengeful. He loved his brother a lot, so he may kill anyone he suspects. But I don't want to kill anyone without a proper reason. It's just going to add on to our sins." Kalikacharan bit his lips, cursing himself inwardly. "Forget anything I said."

"You are more humane than I thought, Kalikacharan Babu."

His eyes widened. "Why do you say so?"

"You feel things. You feel like us. The impending doom of immortality, or the blessing of forever, however you see it as, hasn't affected your ability to feel things. You may be a monster, but you are one who feels more than just lust and greed. You feel fear, you feel affections."

And the rest of the time, till all the rituals were completed, the vampire and the detective decided to find solace in silence.

****

Kalikacharan Babu and Mrinjay were expecting someone. Ramlal was asked to keep a kettle full of tea in the room and ensure no one, especially Maya, would interfere in the privacy. Fortunately Maya was calculating theories in her room and it didn't cross her mind that someone would come. Well, she should not have known either. It was a very commonplace event taking place.

And yet, it wasn't.

Ramlal knocked on the door of Kalikacharan's chambers. Mrinjay asked from the other side, "Who is it?"

"I have brought the doctor with me."

Mrinjay unlocked the door and it opened with a loud, spine-chilling screech. Raktim entered the room, and Mrinjay closed the door behind him. "Sit on the chair. Be comfortable," the eldest son said.

Raktim opened his bag and brought out some vials. "I have prepared some mixtures which would help your father to taste things better. It would also put a control on his appetite." Raktim's face was a crisscross of insentient shadows. He took a glass and poured some water into it from a jug, and sprinkled some of the powder from the vial inside it. "Here, take a dose now. Repeat every evening for a month."

"Baba, wait," Mrinjay growled. Kalikacharan stared at his son with worries etched on his ageing face. "Doctor Raktim, why don't you taste it first? How about a sip?"

"Me?"

"Yes."

"But why? I don't suffer from any disease–"

"Because who knows, you may be plotting to kill my father with your little medications. Perhaps you are weakening him day after day, and poor us, unaware of it all, are letting you do it."

"I-I... " Raktim was at a loss of words. He clenched his fist. "You know I would never do that."

"You have every reason to do it."

"I don't. I am not a man you perceive me to be."

"Then what are you? No one knows you better than us, Raktim."

"Mrinjay, stop it." Kalikacharan raised his hand to shut him up. "He might be lower to us, which he definitely is, but he isn't going to backstab me."

"Childhood grudges can take one too far, Baba. You have given him every reason to kill you."

"I would never lay a hand on your father, Mrinjay," Raktim said, trying hard to maintain his composure. His voice sounded like the suppressed howl of a monster ready to pounce at any moment, but holding himself back for the sake of peace. "As a proof of it, let me drink this." He gulped down the glass of medicine.

Mrinjay didn't seem convinced. "Fine. I get it that you don't want to kill my father. But what about me and Manihar? What about...."

The clamour inside his mind brought angry tears to Raktim's eyes. He swore he would break down any moment. He looked at Kalikacharan; the man refused to acknowledge his gaze. Raktim felt like a failure.

"What about my brother, Abhinoy Das? Did you not kill him?"

"If you have called me to throw at me accusations and humiliate me, I would have to remind you that my life is already brimming with desolation, and I do not wish for more pain."

Mrinjay got up from his chair and hurled at Raktim, choking the doctor by the throat. Raktim's eyes bulged out and his already pale face became more muted. But, he didn't protest.

"You killed Abhinoy. I know it. You are doing this–"

"Mrinjay!" Kalikacharan pushed his son and the latter fell to the ground. Raktim struggled to breathe and coughed. Kalikacharan quickly handed the doctor a glass of water. "Drink it. And Mrinjay, even if you think he is the killer, this is not how we should settle matters. Let Maya find out who is to be blamed. Then we will act."

"I am not waiting for that whore to find out who killed my dear brother."

"Call me out, curse me as much as you want," Raktim scowled, appearing as glunched as a god of destruction, "but do not tarnish the name of a lady as good as Maya. She is not a member of your family and you have no right to treat her like that."

"Oh, did she complain to you regarding us?"

"I am not someone close to her that she would share with me what troubles her and what doesn't."

"But you wish to hear her speak, don't you?" Mrinjay stood up from the ground and pointed his forefinger at the doctor. "You are manipulating her. You are leading her astray."

"Why would I? What makes you think like that?"

"I have brains, Raktim."

"Then use them to save yourself, because Shiva won't spare you."

"Shiva? Huh!" Mrinjay scoffed. "Immortals aren't afraid of gods. They compete with them. I am their equal."

"Mrinjay, my heart is not strong enough to take all this disturbance," Kalikacharan said helplessly. "Today only we completed the last rites of Abhinoy. Let us spend the day in quietude."

"You should actually die, Baba. You are a coward."

"A coward isn't frightened of crows, Mrinjay."

"Crows? Wait a minute, is your son having a phobia of innocent crows?" Raktim mocked. "And here he tries to dominate me and display his ethereal power."

"You haven't seen the true Mrinjay, Raktim."

"You haven't seen the true me either."

"I would love to witness it one fine day. Or perhaps, at night," Mrinjay snarled.

Raktim took his bag and stood up. "I would like to take my leave, Kalikacharan Babu. I have heard enough. I cannot stay here any longer."

"Wait." It wasn't a request, but an order from the master of the house. "My son has been telling a lot all this while, and even if you may call it all nonsense, some points are glowing in the dark, like a pair of fireflies."

"Then what do you have to say?"

"Where was Maya yesterday night?" he asked.

Raktim stood with his back facing Kalikacharan Babu. "I don't know. I am not a spy after her." His fingers quivered, but he tried to not be jittery.

"There's one thing I would like to tell you, Raktim, look at me." And again, it was an order that the poor doctor was obliged to follow. He turned towards his patient, keeping his head hung low, as if ashamed of his very existence. "You are a good-for-nothing  man, a laggard. But I still possess some warmth for you, so hear me out– do not associate yourself with Maya. Not even in the least bit friendly manner. Forget about passion, if there's any. You are a young man and you ought to be full of amour, but you need to remember your roots. You are a waster. Do not run after something that can harm not only you, but your entire legacy."

"I will remember."

"Good. Now leave."

Raktim didn't look back and ran for the door, spilling a trail of tears behind.