Fawks (Dragons of Kratak Book 4)

by Ruth Anne Scott

  The lighted pole in front of us changed from red to green, and the woman started walking. I followed, noticing the vehicles had stopped and seemed to be waiting for us to cross. I kept my head down as I rushed across the street, not exactly sure what would happen when the lights changed back again. I had an idea, and it wouldn't be pretty.

  “There is an establishment called a bank ahead of you, on your left,” Anjol directed. “The ATM is directly out front. You can access the machine via your wristlet.”

  There was a man standing at the machine and one standing behind a line that had been painted several feet behind the machine. So I waited, because I figured that was what I was supposed to do. I turned and looked around at the scenery – the trees, the lights, the buildings. It all felt so strange. So exotic. And so – quaint? But lovely, just the same. It might not be the gorgeous palaces I was used to, but there was something about this small city that felt nice. The cool, salty air was more than pleasant as well. The sea was nearby, calling to me even as I waited in line for this ATM.

  The first man stepped away and the second man stepped forward to take his place. I had obviously assessed the need to wait my turn correctly, which pleased me. I was learning the cultural norms of the place quickly.

  As I waited, one of the human vehicles came down the street, the sound of what I was guessing they called music blaring through its open windows. I found this human music very, very disagreeable. The second man stepped away from the ATM and I stepped forward as it was finally my turn.

  Glancing around me to ensure that I would not be observed, I held my wristlet over the computer screen and tapped a few commands. The ATM made a series of loud beeping noises and I stood there as one final beep sounded, which was followed by a whirring sound. I looked down just as a small door opened and the next thing I knew, a stack of paper came out of the machine.

  “That is what the humans call money,” Anjol said. “Take that currency, and you will be able to eat and have a place to sleep.”

  Grabbing the stack of bills, I pocketed the currency and continued on my way.

  The hotel where I'd be staying at wasn't much farther away. It was, according to Anjol, on the edge of Sapphire Bay, out of the way from the hustle and bustle of the city.

  “But what if I like hustle and bustle?” I asked, not knowing if I actually liked hustle and bustle.

  Anjol was adapting to human culture, customs, and norms far faster than I was. As a biologically-based computer entity, he was able to process incredible volumes of information in the blink of an eye. As a biologically-based entity with no computer enhancements, I did not have that luxury.

  “It is, as they say, better to be safe than sorry, Baz,” Anjol said. “Especially if you're trying to avoid drawing attention to yourself. Forgive me for saying so, but you do tend to stand out.”

  “If I am to study these beings, I need to be out among them,” I said. “And why do you say I stand out? I'm wearing a bow tie, aren't I?”

  “Mostly because once again, you're talking out loud and people are staring.”

  I looked around, feeling somewhat self-conscious. He was right. A group of people were sitting on a bench outside the hotel, all three of them watching me.

  “Maybe you have a point,” I thought in my head. “But I'll learn their ways, Anjol. Trust me, I will.”

  I pushed on the door, only to find it was locked. But Anjol said this was a hotel – a public lodgings house. Why would the door be locked?

  “You have to pull,” a lady behind me spoke up.

  “Excuse me?” I asked.

  “Pull on the door. Don't push, sweetie.”

  Her voice was soft, sweet, and friendly. If she thought I was a lunatic, she didn't make it obvious. That was a start in the right direction as far as I was concerned.

  “Thank you,” I said, smiling as I pulled and found the door opened with ease.

  “No problem. I do it all the time myself, too.”

  I gave her a smile and stepped inside of the public lodge – the hotel – and secured my room for the night.

  Chapter Eight

  I paced the room of the hotel I had checked myself into – with plenty of help from Anjol, of course. He'd had to walk me through the procedures and teach me how to use their currency to avoid causing any sort of scene or raise any suspicions.

  My quarters were on a high floor, which was apparently desirable, according to the man who had assigned me to the room. I looked out the window and was fascinated by the view. Earth – unlike Optorio – had but one moon and it was a large, silver disc in the sky. I marveled at the way it reflected off of the ocean below, sparkling like gemstones. Their ocean was not red in color like ours was.

  “It's quite different than Optorio, isn't it?” Anjol said. “And beautiful in its own way.”

  I nodded. “It is beautiful in its way,” I said. “But stark. Cold. Optorio's moons and the color of the sea are warm. Inviting. It's not that way here. But even the cold starkness of it has an appeal.”

  I spoke out loud because there was nobody around to hear me who might think me a lunatic, but mostly because the sound of a voice, even if it was my own, was strangely comforting. I did not count Anjol since he was a machine – a biologically based machine, but a machine nonetheless.

  I'd never been one who enjoyed solitude. Of course, I'd had to endure plenty of it during my education and training, but it was never something I liked. I'd simply endured it. I was more of a social creature than my father would have cared for. He'd told me countless times that a life of rule was a life of loneliness, which was another reason I knew I was not cut out to sit the throne.

  I wanted – no, I needed – to be among other people. I need to speak and interact. It was partly why I was so drawn to exploring as it provided the chance to interact with others, to study them, and to immerse myself in their culture.

  That thought led me to my next problem. The only way to describe it was boredom. I turned from the window and paced the room, wanting to be anywhere but there. I wanted to be out exploring this alien land and interacting with the inhabitants. The fact that biologically we appeared so similar was an advantage in studying them – I could get up close and personal. I was wasting it by locking myself away in this lodging.

  “You are pacing like a caged lion,” Anjol said.

  “A caged what?”

  “It's Earth parlance,” he replied. “They have so many quirky and wonderful sayings. Really, I would suggest you–”

  “What is this caged lion you spoke of, Anjol?”

  “Oh, a lion is a ferocious creature. Feline in nature–”

  “Feline?”

  “Did you not review any of the material I uploaded to your biosuit, Baz?”

  I rolled my eyes. “I have not gotten to that point yet.”

  Anjol sighed. “A feline is a cat. Much like our angolurs on Optorio,” he said, sounding put out. “To say that somebody is pacing like a caged lion denotes impatience and frustration.”

  “Then, I suppose that saying is accurate,” I said.

  I turned and faced the window again. Far out on the water, I could see a large vessel of some sort, slowly plodding its way through the open sea. I envied it, wishing I could be out of this room and plodding my own way through whatever sea I chose.

  So what was stopping me?

  “I would advise against it,” Anjol said, reading my thoughts. “The safest course for you is to remain here and wait for Tarkonil.”

  “The way Tarkonil flies, that could be weeks,” I growled.

  “Then you should wait weeks, if that is what it takes,” he said. “You cannot afford to be discovered. I've done some research, and humankind does not have a great track record when it comes to dealing with those who are different. And many of them have the strangest fascination with aliens. In the literature I've read, there is a prevailing belief that aliens abduct humans for the sole purpose of inserting strange objects into their–”

&nbs
p; “Enough,” I snapped. “I cannot sit in this room a moment longer. I am here to study new life and that is what I intend to do.”

  “Technically speaking, you are here because your ship was damaged and unable to fly.”

  I growled and turned, heading for the door. I heard Anjol sigh again.

  “If you intend to do this, Baz,” he said primly. “Do not forget the key to your dwelling. And do not forget to alter your manner of dress. You do not want to stand out any more than you already do.”

  I looked down at myself and realized that I was only wearing my biosuit. Which would, admittedly, look rather odd among the humans. I touched my wristlet and commanded the changes be made. As I watched, the attire Anjol had equipped me with before – dark with the blue bow tie – appeared. Satisfied, I grabbed the key, slipped it into the pocket of the pants, and headed out.

  I walked the streets of this strange, yet beautiful place for quite a while. I had been so caught up in all of the sights, sounds, and smells of it all that I lost track of time. Walking out of a small food establishment with what humans called a cupcake in my hand and sitting down on a bench outside of the establishment, I marveled at the exotic delicacy in my hand. They'd described it to me as a spongy, chocolate cake with a creamy peanut butter frosting.

  I had no idea what any of that meant, but the smell of it is what had drawn me into that establishment to begin with. And now that I had this delicacy in my hand, I found the smell of it even headier. I breathed it in, savoring the rich textures and aroma.

  “I believe that is meant for eating,” Anjol said.

  “Yes, thank you,” I snapped. “I know that. I wanted to take a minute to savor the scent of this amazing human delicacy.”

  A young couple passed by me, giving me a strange, inscrutable look. It was then that I realized I'd spoken out loud again and how odd that must have appeared. Clearing my throat, I nodded to them – which made them hurry by me even faster.

  “You may not be cut out for this observation and learning of alien cultures,” Anjol said, sounding amused.

  I quickly reviewed the lexicon of human insults, finally settling on one that was odd and yet strangely satisfying to say.

  “Bite me,” I said.

  “That's what your cupcake is saying to you, Baz,” Anjol replied quickly. “Anything to get you to stop smelling it.”

  I sighed as I was again reminded that he was a machine and better equipped to do things like catalog insults and repeat them back faster than I ever could. Knowing I'd lost the battle, I gave up and decided to enjoy my cupcake. And it was rapturous. I had never tasted anything so exquisite. I devoured the cupcake, my head spinning with just how amazing that little treat had been.

  I sat on the bench, looking at the crumpled up wrapper in my hand and debating whether or not I should go in and attain more.

  “Keep eating like that and you won't fit into your biosuit anymore.”

  I ignored Anjol and had decided to go in and get a few more when something caught my attention. It was a sound – music, perhaps. It was unlike anything I'd ever heard, and it was captivating.

  “Anjol,” I said. “Locate the source of that sound.”

  “Acknowledged,” he said, and then after a moment, spoke again. “That sound is what is referred to as jazz music. It is emanating from an establishment around the corner known as the Mahogany Tavern.”

  “The Mahogany Tavern,” I repeated to myself quietly.

  “I must once again advise against this course of action.”

  “Noted,” I said. “Now, plot the course to this establishment.”

  With a sigh, Anjol mapped out my route. This Mahogany Tavern was close by. I stood and followed the map Anjol had provided, the cupcakes forgotten. As I walked, the music grew louder, and it wasn't long before I found myself standing in front of the doors to the place.

  I stood for a long moment, letting the sounds wash over me, amazed at how beautiful and pure the music was. Of course we had music on Optorio, but nothing like this. Nothing so powerful. Emotional. Raw. It was gorgeous music, and I had to hear more.

  Chapter Nine: Paige

  The Mahogany Tavern was lively. It had been almost a year since we'd opened our doors, and every day brought more and more surprises; each night brought more guests. I stood to the side, listening to Liam Michaels wailing away. He was a local musician who was starting to make a name for himself outside of Sapphire Bay.

  No matter how big he got though, he never forgot his roots and always came back to play at the Tavern. And I was happy to have him.

  Liam smiled over at me. He was just a boy and his guitar. His soulful voice filled the air, making the lively room around me disappear as I was transported somewhere else, at least for a moment. There was so much pain and so much emotion conveyed in his music. It was powerful, compelling, and I could tell that the entire club was feeling it and was moved by it.

  That was why I loved owning a jazz club. Seeing the effect music had on people, watching as people sang their hearts out to an eager audience, having that audience soak it into themselves, appreciate it, and make it their own was immensely powerful. There wasn't a day that went by that I wasn't happy about my choice to leave my law career for what I was doing.

  “He's cute,” Josie said to me as she sidled up beside me. “And if I didn't know better, I'd say he has eyes for you.”

  Rolling my eyes, I turned to her and pointed to a table nearby. There was a tall, handsome man with jet black hair and a well-tailored suit. “See that man over there?”

  Josie raised an eyebrow. “Yeah? Is tall, dark, and handsome more your type?”

  “Nah, but he's more Liam's type,” I said with a chuckle. “That's David. Liam's husband.”

  Josie's eyes were as large as saucers. “Oh. OH! I had no idea he was gay, I just assumed – the way he looks at you and all.”

  “We're just friends,” I said. “I admire his talent. He's thankful to me for letting him play here whenever he wants. Nothing more than that.”

  Josie looked a little disappointed, her red lips forming a perfect pout. She'd probably already had the colors picked out for our wedding. No matter what I told Josie or how many times I said it, she insisted it was time for me to start dating again.

  Her brunette hair fell around her face in soft tendrils. She had one of those trendy bobs, and it always looked amazing, while my hair was long, wavy, and looked a hot mess tonight. The club was warm. There were a lot of bodies in it, and our air conditioner could only do so much. Josie was still staring at Liam's husband, as if trying to determine whether this was another lie or another excuse for me not to date a suitable bachelor.

  “Cross my heart, Jo,” I said with a laugh. “Cross my heart and swear to die.”

  “Well that's a shame, I guess. They do make an odd couple...”

  “Married, Josie. Happily, I might add.”

  Josie shook her head and looked across the room, her eyes bright again. She was on the lookout.

  “I'm not interested,” I said.

  “How do you know you're not interested until you know what I'm up to?”

  “Because I always know what you're up to, and as I've told you countless times, I'm not ready to start dating again.”

  “It's been a year, Paige.”

  “Not ready,” I said, holding my hand up to stop her from talking and called over my shoulder. “And not having this conversation.”

  I walked away, heading toward the bar. I didn't drink while working, so I grabbed a bottle of water instead. Leaning against the counter, I watched as Josie made the rounds, checking in on some of the guests and mingling. She was a natural social butterfly and truly enjoyed chatting people up. She flirted without even realizing it, and the way men looked at her – well, I could see her power from across the room and the effect it had on people, especially the men.

  I had never been all that great with men. Sure, I was attractive enough and happy with my appearance – minus a few
minor imperfections I'd tweak if I could. But wasn't that true for everyone? Hell, I bet even supermodels or women like Josie would change a few things about themselves if they could.

  But overall, I was happy in my own skin. It had taken some time and years of therapy, but I could look in the mirror and like what I saw. Men seemed attracted to me, though I usually pushed them away. Josie, on the other hand, could draw any man to her in a heartbeat, even though she had Mr. Right already.

  Josie was loyal to a fault and never intended to lead men on. It just happened naturally. And yet, she seemed shocked by it every single time. Even worse though, she'd use her natural charm to get men to talk to me. Which was something that never worked out too well – not for the men or for me. It was partly because I wasn't interested, but mostly because I wasn't Josie.

  Josie strolled over to me at the bar, placing a glass in the sink next to me before turning to me with a smile. “There's someone over there who'd like to meet you.”

  Rolling my eyes, I found myself laughing. I'd called it. “Yeah? Why am I not surprised?”

  “Because you're hot as hell and men adore you, Paige.”

  “Nah, they adore you,” I said. “You just lead them over to me after you reject them and break their hearts.”

  “So not true,” she said, her mouth wide. Josie put her hands on her hips and stared at me. “Okay, so maybe I did reject him, but once he saw you, he was smitten.”

  “Doesn't matter. I'm not interested.”

  “He's a lawyer, so you have something in common.”

  “Even less interested now.”

  “Come on, Paige,” Josie whined. “He's not one of those stick-up-his-ass type lawyers, I promise. It's something environmental, I think.”

  “You picked all this up from the 2 minutes you were speaking to him?” I raised an eyebrow at my friend and smiled playfully.

  Josie mumbled to herself, “I'm good at reading people. I told you Shane was a dick, didn't I?”

  Hearing my ex's name sent shivers down my spine and made me clench my jaw. “Please, don't bring Shane into this.”