“I feel fine.” Evangeline mumbled, trying to hide her smile.
Taryn lowered her sunglasses again. “Oh, I can see that you feel fine! All right, out with it! Who is he?”
Evangeline turned her back and winced. “What in the world are you talking about?”
“I know that look! You got lucky last night!”
Evangeline’s eyes narrowed. “Let’s start off with why you would allow someone come home with me?”
“What are you talking about, Evangeline? I would never… Wait a minute! Are you telling me you don’t know who you slept with last night? Oh, girl! Have you lost your mind? Did you at least use protection?”
The sunglasses were now completely off Taryn’s face.
Evangeline’s silence must have given her away.
“Evan, what’s wrong with you? What if you get pregnant…or some awful disease?”
“My body’s like clockwork. I got lucky with the timing. I assure you I won’t make the same mistake again.”
Taryn glared at her. “Is that why you are in the pool? Do you honestly think you can kill sperm in your body with pool water?
“No, I didn’t think that.” She lied horribly.
“I swear it! I’m buying you a box of pregnancy tests.”
Evangeline rolled her eyes. Taryn wasn’t such a hypochondriac until she went to medical school. Taryn sat on the edge of her seat. Leaning forward, curiosity was obviously getting the best of her.
“Well, tell me about this guy?
Evangeline played coy. “What do you want to know?”
“Does this mysterious stranger have a name?”
Evangeline covered her face. It was an awful attempt to hide her blush.
“Dorien. His name is Dorien.”
“Get to the juicy bits, now. Tell me, was he a great lover?
Evangeline giggled. Heat filled her face. “He was pretty amazing.”
Taryn didn’t look convinced.
“Oh, really? I suppose anything would be considered amazing compared to your horrid experience with Andrew. Then how many times did you enjoy yourself?
Evangeline looked away.
“Come on! Out with it!”
“Three times.”
Taryn’s jaw dropped. They both squealed hysterically.
“Hopefully he was worth it. Especially if the bloke left you with a child to raise!”
“You’re so unbelievable! Absolutely shameful!”
Taryn’s eyebrows rose up and down in mischief. “I know. Isn’t it wonderful?”
Chapter Seven
Dorien walked the streets of London. He enjoyed the fancy window décor of quaint little English shops. People bustled everywhere. Shopping bags were full. Children followed close behind their parents, playfully in tow.
His shoes hit the street in wonder. Turning towards the sudden screech, his hands pressed against the front of the contraption deep in resistance, stopping the tiny jalopy plowing into his knees. His muscled arms became enveloped inside a blue mangled hood. A white plume of radiator steam screamed up the side of his face, hissing like a snake in anger. Dorien opened an eye, marveling at the absence of pain. He was unfazed by the metal wrapped around his legs.
But the driver appeared horrified, completely spooked. His blue eyes were large and open. It was as if the elder gentleman had seen a ghost. His withered face grew pale. His trembling fingers were nervous. The man rolled down his squeaky window.
“A-are y-you all right, s-sir?” The man stuttered through his open window. It was obvious he was afraid to get out of his car.
Dorien offered his best smile. With his hands raised high, his palms were flat. He wanted to ease the poor man’s mind. Walking to the driver’s side door, the gentleman wouldn’t look at him. His shifty eyes stared at random objects inside his car. Cap on his head, he gave the most valiant effort to avoid meeting Dorien’s gaze.
“I’m sorry. I’m afraid I didn’t see your, um, whatever in Hades this thing is.”
The old man dared to look. But his fingers held a death grip on the sides of the wheel-like object in front of him. Dorien glanced around him. He read the thoughts of anyone curious enough to look, all who dared share the same expression of shock and fear. They avoided his gaze and hurried their children, going quick about their business. It was as if no one had missed a beat.
“Quite all right, my boy. No harm done. I was waiting for any excuse to get a new car. I suppose now you have given me one. I must say, though, it’s a miracle that you’re alive. I expected you to be buried underneath my engine.” The man stuck his head out of the window of his car. He stole a glance at Dorien’s uninjured shins. “It would seem that there’s not a mark on you. But would you like for me to call for a medic?”
The scream of emergency sirens approached. Dorien’s ears perked. He didn’t want to cause an unnecessary scene. The man’s gaze kept drifting to his rear view mirror. The sirens were causing him obvious distress. Reading his thoughts, all the man wanted to do was to go home.
Dorien grasped at opportunity. “Don’t worry about me. I feel fine. I will leave before they get here if you answer me one question.”
The man nodded quick, almost in relief. His upper lip held stiff. “I’d appreciate that. W-what would you like to know?”
“I need a min…” Dorien dropped off in an attempt to choose his words more wisely. He was sure most people didn’t own minions. Only the likes of Demona would prefer such a thing. There had to be better word.
“Errr, I mean that I need someone who can assist me with a few duties. I will pay for their service. Tell me where I can find someone loyal and dedicated…someone to accept the opportunity.
The man pointed South. “Hurry, take this road! It will lead you right to Imperial College. It’s the only place I can think of this very moment.”
Dorien nodded and smiled in appreciation. “I am thankful for your help.”
“Think nothing of it. Now get on your way. Please, before Scotland Yard gets here. The last thing I need is another dreadful ticket. Another citation and my wife will kill me!”
Dorien chuckled to himself. He wasn’t sure what a citation was, but what man didn’t know the Hell of a vexed woman? Turning on his heel, he jogged south. He grew bored and lost count of passing city blocks. Grateful for good directions, he found the institution with no problem.
Dorien searched the minds of everyone he passed. Wasn’t there anyone he could trust? Entering the library, he approached the help desk. A frail, blue-haired woman sat busy behind the counter. The elderly woman glanced up. Light reflected off the rims of her fine silver glasses. She cleared the cobwebs from her throat.
“Can I help you young man?” her high-pitched voice squeaked. It still wasn’t clear.
“Yes. I would like to find someone willing to work.”
“An employee?”
“Um, yes. An employee.” His English sounded pretty good. He only had a hundred years of practice, he thought dryly.
The old woman pointed her swollen arthritic finger. “Those students are all searching the job board for positions. You should be able to find just what you want over there.”
Nodding his thanks, Dorien approached the mob of unemployed students. He was unable to read the posts; they were written in English. He gritted his teeth in frustration, searching the minds of those who stood around him. Patient with time, he watched job hungry students retrieve information.
Done with their fill, the crowd began to dwindle away. The only one remaining was a disgruntled red-headed boy covered in freckles. The scraping strokes of his pencil scratched merciless against his notepad. The boy bit his tongue as he scribbled. With the shake of his head, his shoulders slumped heavy.
“All of the good jobs have been taken!”
Dorien read the boy’s mind and analyzed his thoughts. He was pleased with the boy’s incessant drive. His character was selfless. Despite the sorrows of his optimistic young life, the lad was unbroken by the
harshness of poverty. He was the first in his family to attend college, but wages were worth so much more than paying for classes. He was the bread-winner for his mother and siblings. Without work, his classes would have to be dropped.
Dorien shook his head on purpose. He respected the boy’s dedication.
“I know what you mean. It is too bad.”
The boy looked curious. His red brows rose.
“Are you searching for a job, too?”
“Not me, son. I want to give someone a job. You have no idea how hard it is to find someone reliable and trustworthy. I don’t know of a soul who wants to do a little hard work.”
Perhaps he was laying it on a bit thick?
The boy’s crisp blue eyes lit up, charged with excitement. His slouched shoulders perked. The boy stood rigid. His chest and freckled chin puffed with pride.
“Well, I am reliable…and quite trustworthy, sir!”
“What is your name, son? How old are you?”
“Tommy Wilson. I’m nineteen.” Tommy offered his hand. Freckles covered the palette of his face.
Dorien accepted his hand and shook it heartily.
“Tommy, you just found yourself a job.”
“Thank you! I’m most grateful.”
The boy’s sigh of relief didn’t escape Dorien’s attention.
“Tommy, I need to update my currency. I have some old coins I need to sell or exchange for British coin. Can I trust you with this task?
“Yes, sir! I’ll do anything you like.” Tommy beamed. The boy seemed eager to get started.
Dorien analyzed the lad’s mind and believed him. Pulling the leather satchel from his pocket, there was well over a hundred coins. In his time, it had been a fortune. Wealth came easy for those who conquered in the name of Sparta. Time would soon tell if they had kept their worth. Removing ten coins, he handed them to the boy.
Tommy stared at the coins. Beads of sweat glistened on his forehead. “Where in the world did you get these coins, sir?”
“Please, call me Dorien.”
“Okay, Dorien. Where did you get these old coins? I bet they’re worth a fortune.”
“They have passed in my family for many generations. If you fetch a fair price for them, your reward will be handsome.”
Tommy’s eyes lit up. He accepted the coins and looked around in suspicion. His fist clenched tight, he placed them in the protective pouch of his pocket. Dorien chuckled, recalling the park near Evangeline’s house. “Can you exchange the coins today?”
“Definitely. Jefferson Hetley is a shark-broker located just off campus. Students are always pawning things off to pay for classes, drug habits…you name it. They say he specializes in antiquities. Rumor has it that he specializes in artifacts and mementos of historic value. If the pieces are right, he’s prepared to pay in cash. ”
“Good. Take the coins to this shark. I shall meet you at Grover Park in three hours. Will this be enough time?”
Tommy nodded. “Don’t worry, boss. I’ll get the job done.”
“Good. When you return, I must look for lodging.” Dorien’s gaze fell. He winced at his borrowed tank top and shorts. “I could also use some new clothes.”
“Of course. Consider it done. Those are easy fixes.”
Dorien smiled in satisfaction. He tousled the boy’s red hair.
“Three o’clock, then. Don’t disappoint me, Tommy. I would hate to have to hunt you down.”
Tommy grin was infectious. His eagerness to please was refreshing.
“That won’t be necessary, boss. I’ll be there.”
* * * *
Dorien waited patiently on a green painted bench at Grover Park. He couldn’t help but ponder the fate of the coins. If they were worthless, he would have no choice but to resort to surviving the old fashioned way. Something told him old habits wouldn’t sit well with today’s society.
The world had changed. The knowledge left Dorien disappointed. It was harder for a man to make his way. The old ways had been lost. He no longer had the luxury of sending a messenger home to Sparta to replace his prince’s purse. Another downside left him conflicted. He could no longer declare his own war to benefit from those he had overcome. Today, this world was much different. Here, he was on his own.
Smelling a familiar scent, he located Tommy in an instant. His red hair shimmered bright from across the park. By the look on his face, he was pleased, eager to find his master. Under his arm he carried a large brown briefcase. Not wanting to rouse suspicion, Dorien allowed the boy to find him. Tommy smiled as he approached. It was obvious he had good news to share. The boy grinned and shuffled his feet.
“I exchanged your coins with no problems at all, boss.”
“I trust you got a fair price?”
Tommy looked cautious. His hand thudded against the briefcase. “I think you’ll be quite pleased,” he whispered.
Dorien chuckled. The boy didn’t have a clue how safe he was standing next to an immortal. If anyone dared to lay hand on that briefcase, they would be lucky if they left with their life.
“The money is all here. I don’t know where you got those coins, but I sure had a hard time keeping that collector off of them. I swear that Jefferson guy slobbered all over me.”
Dorien laughed heartily.
“Family heirlooms, remember?”
Tommy nodded. “That’s right! Passed down for many generations.”
“Please continue.” Dorien smiled.
“He said he didn’t care how I got the coins. He’s never seen them so plentiful and in perfect condition. Only two have ever been found in existence, and he owns one of them. When I showed him your coins, he recognized them right away. He knew their value and authenticity. No one could copy such rare pieces.”
Tommy handed him the briefcase and a piece of paper. “What do you think of these numbers, Dorien?”
Dorien stared at the paper, embarrassed he couldn’t read it. Tommy waited for his reaction.
“What’s wrong? Did I accept too little?”
“No, son. You did well. I’m afraid you are not the problem.”
“What is it then?”
“To be honest, I can only read and write in my native language.”
“What is your native language?”
“I am Spartan. I read and write in Greek.”
“Whoa! So are you related to Leonidas or something?”
“Actually, I am his older brother.” Dorien winced. He had answered far too quick.
“Good comeback, boss! That was quite funny.”
Dorien rolled his eyes. The boy thought he made a joke. He was safe from having to explain...for now. “My inability to read and write in English has put me at a disadvantage. It is my hope you will consider teaching me your English. I assure you I’m a quick study. I will pay you for your time, of course.”
“Yes, sir. As soon as you’re ready, studies will begin.”
“Good. In the meantime, will you tell me what the Hades this paper means?”
“Hades, huh? You’re a crack up. Greek humor. That’s great!”
“And what would be the proper word to say?” Dorien mused.
“In most places, we say Hell, but Hell and Hades mean the same thing. They both reference the same place.”
“Okay, Hell it is!” Dorien smirked. “Now can I hear about the numbers on that paper?”
“Oh, yeah. Sorry. Each coin was worth five hundred thousand pounds! Do you realize how much money that is? He gave you five million pounds for ten coins! “Dorien. You’re rich.”
“Is that good?”
“Good, no, try excellent. You’re a wealthy man, especially since you have a lot more coins at your disposal. We must get this briefcase to a bank and get this cash deposited. Since you admitted you aren’t British, do you have any other form of identification? The bank will need it to open an account.”
“Identification?”
“Yes. A driver’s license or identification card. Something with a pictur
e on it.”
“I’m afraid I don’t, Tommy. What must I do?”
“We’ll open an account in my name. I’ll add you as an authorized user. After we’ve established the account, I’ll drop my name off of it. I’ll check around to see if I can try to get you some type of identification documents.”
“Thanks. You have proven to be trustworthy. As payment for your loyalty, I want you to have this.” Dorien reached into his pocket and handed him a coin. “Sell this. Take care of your mother and siblings.”
Tommy’s expression left his face, and so did the color. Stuttering as if a cat held his tongue, he shook his head in an apparent effort to test his wits. The boy appeared to be in complete shock.
“Tommy, are you all right?”
“H-how do you k-know about my f-family?” he stuttered.
“I’ll explain soon enough. For now, please trust me.”
Tommy’s chivalrous side returned. “I can’t accept this Dorien. This is way too much. I still have yet to earn such a gift.”
Spartan Heart, Part One Page 6
