Chapter Three #2
A corner of his mouth quirked up in a small smile. “That might not have hurt so much.” He glanced at the computer screen. “You’re looking up dragons?”
She felt her face flush. “It’s pretty stupid. There’s been no sighting of anything unnatural since whatever that was happened.”
“What happened was real. You’re not stupid to want to know more. Go ahead,” he said. “Google it.”
Feeling like a fool, Sophie turned back to the computer and clicked on a link.
There was the usual stuff about dragons liking bling, and collecting hordes of shiny treasures, along with lightning and thunder being the dragon’s breath and roar, respectively.
Another link talked about their appearance: scales that rotate and overlap, horns, razor-sharp wings and spiked spines with arrowpoint tails. The third link was more educational.
“It says dragons, like birds, have hollow bones, which allows them to fly. They can dislocate their jawbone to take in large chunks of food.” Briefly, she thought of being dinner for the red dragon. “Here’s something interesting.”
“What’s that?”
“It says their scales form when iron from their food mixes with a protein called keratin in their cells.” She looked up at Michael. “Sorry. I get excited about biology.”
“No problem.” Michael moved closer and reached across her, his fingers brushing her hand as he moved the mouse to another site.
That very slight touch left a pleasant, tingling sensation that spread up her arm and through her body.
Sophie was suddenly aware of his closeness, although he did not touch her. In fact, he settled back in his chair.
“There’s some more biology for you,” he said.
She forced herself to refocus on the screen and not think about the scent of heather and woodlands that surrounded him. What in the world was wrong with her?
“This site says dragons live for centuries! Babies are called wyrmlings and are considered young adolescents at age sixty. I’ll bet the baby-boomer generation would appreciate that!
” She peered more closely at the facts. “They aren’t adults until they’re five hundred and only middle-aged at a thousand! ”
Michael leaned in again, only inches away from her to read over her shoulder.
Her entire body alerted, nerve-endings ready for—what?
It was almost as if she were wrapped in a warm cocoon that pulsated with gentle static.
Yet he was not touching her, only his warm breath tickled her ear.
She needed to focus on something besides Michael. Shakily, she began to read on.
“When the female seeks a mate, she lets out a special call and then begins to glow—” She stopped abruptly, her face heating. This was not the direction she needed to take.
“You’re glowing,” Michael said with a grin.
Before she could decide how to ignore the innuendo, Janie was back at the door, along with a very annoyed-looking Robert.
“I told him you were busy,” Janie said, but she didn’t sound too convincing since she was smiling at him.
He entered the room without preamble, glancing at Michael before staring at Sophie. “I guess he’s the reason you haven’t returned my calls?”
Sophie felt her face flame and wondered if she might just spontaneously combust. Could things get worse?
“I’ve been so worried about you,” Robert said.
Michael stood, shifting his weight so he was balanced on both feet. Sophie recognized it as a defensive move from fencing.
“And you are?” he asked.
Robert regarded him coolly, using his best impassive attorney face. “I am her husband.”
“Ex-husband,” Sophie said.
“You know we’re going to talk about that,” Robert said in the buttery-smooth voice he used to convince witnesses to talk.
Sophie bit her tongue and tried not to glare at the man. She didn’t believe in airing dirty laundry in front of strangers. “I am busy at the moment.”
“Yes. We were involved in a conversation,” Michael said.
Robert appraised him again, this time shifting his weight too, and Sophie suddenly wondered if they were going to resort to squabbling like schoolboys.
“And who are you?”
“Name’s Michael McCain.”
“And what do you do?”
“I help a friend run a temp agency and I adjunct at the local college. Why?”
Robert’s lips curled in a subtle sneer that Sophie had seen him use when he felt he had the upper hand. She didn’t like it.
“Gentlemen,” she said, standing also, “I really need both of you to leave. I’ve got forty animals to feed, a horse that needs exercising, and an elderly lady coming in an hour who may have to put her ancient Shepherd down. I need time to prepare myself for that.”
Michael’s gaze softened. “I understand. I’ll get back to you about the research project.” He turned to Robert. “After you.”
Robert did not move for a moment and Sophie was afraid he was going to stubbornly insist upon staying and talking. Attorneys were nothing if not persistent. But something in her look must have convinced him this was not the day.
He moved toward the door. “I’ll be getting back to you too,” he said.
****
In her relief that there had not been a dragon sighting, Sophie almost forgot her appointment with Toby Clark until Janie announced him on Wednesday morning.
“Thank you for seeing me,” he said after she’d invited him to sit down.
“I’m still not sure why you would want to do a human interest story on me,” Sophie replied. “Especially since nothing has happened since that one time.” She pointed toward the windows. “There’s only one or two media types lingering out there.”
“As I mentioned, I’m new at this. I think the fact that you are a vet—used to caring for animals—and this dragon appeared at your doorstep is an interesting angle.” Toby shoved his hand in his pocket and pulled out something wrapped in tissue. “I saw this and thought you might like it.”
She unwrapped the tissue and held up a keychain with a crystal-eyed dragon dangling from it. “Thank you,” she said.
Toby blushed to the roots of his fair hair. “I hope I didn’t offend you. I thought you might think it funny.” He looked very earnest. “You will use it, won’t you?”
Sophie looked at the small dragon again. “It is rather cute.” She sensed that he was waiting, like a small boy hoping to please her. She picked up the keys to the office that were lying on the desk and clipped the ring to it. “There. All set to go. You were sweet to think of it.”
His blush deepened and then he coughed and brought out his notepad. “I know you’re busy, so I’ll just get started,” he said.
They spent about fifteen minutes discussing how Sophie had decided to become a vet and how important having a no-kill animal shelter was.
As she watched him leave, she thought about how very different he was from the other reporters she’d had to deal with.
He seemed to lack the aggression and persistence that most of them had, but who was she to fault him for that?
“Good luck,” she said to his retreating back.
****
“Any problems today?” Michael asked Stephanie, Sara’s middle-aged assistant, late that afternoon as he checked into the employment agency.
“None. We had thirty temps working, including a new guy with the cutest smile. Too bad I’m not twenty years younger,” she said with a wink.
“What’s his name?” Michael asked, “and what does he do? Did you run background?”
She looked slightly miffed. “Of course. No criminal record. The name is Troy Sutton and he has a degree in Ancient History. Apparently it’s almost as useless as yours. I sent him to the library since they’re needing someone to help catalog what is going digital.”
“He knows computers?”
“Seems to. The head librarian didn’t have any complaints when I talked to her earlier.”
“Good. Maybe he can help out here.” Michael glanced over the neatly stacked folders of their clients. “I may have to leave for a few weeks as soon as the semester is over.”
“No problem.” She gave him a quick smile. “I’ve managed this office for three years. Going on vacation?”
“Not quite. A…friend of mine and I need to retrieve something for Mr. Smith.”
She frowned at that. “Sara was working for him when she disappeared.”
“Sara hasn’t exactly disappeared,” Michael said. “She’s safeguarding a very valuable object in a secluded location.”
“She hasn’t called or anything,” Stephanie replied.
He knew she was worried about Sara. He was too, but he had to trust that Nimue knew what she was talking about, even if she was a fickle faerie. But how to explain to Stephanie?
“You know cell phone transmissions can be picked up pretty easily,” Michael answered. “So she can’t call.”
She looked dubious, but didn’t say anything.
Michael retreated to the small office behind the main desk and closed the door.
He needed to make sure he hadn’t missed anything Sara might have left behind concerning Balor.
The bastard kept himself incognito, just like he did running the money-laundering scheme that kept terrorist organizations supplied with cash.
To the outside world, Adam Baylor operated a very successful brokerage in London.
To the few who really knew what he was, the “inside” money was all dirty, taken from the drug cartels of Mexico and South America as well as the opium business in Afghanistan.
Michael wished he didn’t need to drag Sophie into this. It was dangerous enough work for him and he’d had centuries to hone his warlock skills. Sophie was completely unaware of her magical power, from what he could tell, which meant she didn’t know how to use it, either.
Thoughts of Sophie made him wonder about the ex-husband. The man was arrogant, but he clearly thought he was going to be a part of her life again. Did she harbor feelings for him? Or was he the jerk who had hurt her? She had made no comment, one way or the other.