by Laura Wylde
“That’s like a bunch of people loving together?”
“Sort of. I’m asking because, well, I’m attracted to you. And I’m attracted to Heath. And I’m attracted to Orson and Barnaby. I want all of you.”
“I want all of you, too,” I agreed. I pulled her close again.
The next thing I remembered was I was in my own bed with a headache the size of Chicago. The entire team was gathered around, and Barnaby kept jabbing me in the chest. “How much did you tell that girl? What does she know about us?”
“I don’t remember. Why? What did she say?” I sat up in bed, frowning at the daylight that sought vainly to remove the cobwebs from my mind. Orson, for all else he might be, was at least, an architect of civilized manners, handed me a cup of French-pressed, black coffee. I drank half of it before the dull thumping behind my eyeballs went away.
“She wants to be part of our team.” Barnaby sat heavily on the bed beside me. “She wants to go with us to recover the remaining four artifacts. She knows we conduct mythological investigations.”
I groaned and held my head as staggered to the closet to find something suitable to wear from the pile on the floor. I found a Heavy Metal tee shirt and a pair of black Levi’s that looked decent. I sniffed them. They smelled clean. “She seduced me.”
Without thinking, Orson blurted angrily, “she seduced me too, but I didn’t blurt out our secrets. Did you also tell her we sprout wings?”
I had just gone into the bathroom to splash water on my face. I returned, towel in hand, to blink at him unbelievably. “She seduced you?”
“I’m susceptible. We’re all susceptible. We’re red-blooded dragons. We see a chance to be seduced, we’re going to be seduced.”
Heath mumbled and scratched at his beard. Barnaby frowned. “We should use self-control.”
I cursed and went back to the bathroom and looked in the mirror. I had put one on, alright. The question was, should I shave my stubble or just comb back my hair? A good shave might wake me up – or I might end up slicing my throat. Combing was safer.
Barnaby’s voice floated into the bathroom “The question is, what do we do now?”
“Why?” My voice bubbled up between brushing my teeth.
“She’s coming over.”
I spat in the sink and watch the spittle twirl down the tap in a stream of water. The stale, cotton-tasting remains of last night’s clubbing swirled down with it. Only vague pieces came back, ending in a half-dream state as we stopped at the resort and she helped me to my room. That was it. In the familiar surroundings of my room, I blacked out. “What? Now? Shit! What does she want?”
Orson opened the double doors connecting the private bedroom to the rest of the suite. “She’s made it very clear what she wants. She wants us and she wants in.”
I tagged after him uneasily. “Did I tell her what we were?”
He was being deliberately annoying, pattering around like a butler, opening drapes and plumping the pillows on the settee. “You did. She thought it was funny.” He slid back the glass doors to patio. We’re all having breakfast out here. I called up a server. You’ve got ten minutes to be ready.”
“I’m ready.”
“You didn’t shower. You didn’t shave. You didn’t put on fresh clothes.”
I went outside and plopped down in a patio seat, dragging up a small stool to prop my feet. The Mediterranean breeze this time of day was refreshingly cool. The coffee was thick and black, strong enough to make a few brain cells come to life. I had met bad girls before, but they were girls filled with regrets. The clung to you. They wept. Irene was more like a good girl with a bad attitude. She was aloof. She bent you to her will. She dominated you with the exquisite pleasures only a bad girl is supposed to know. I couldn’t even breathe her name without feeling hot and bothered all over.
The server had already wheeled in the cart crammed with covered bowls of steaming food and set out the dish wear when Irene appeared. She was dressed innocently in a tee-shirt tucked into a pair of black, denim carpenter pants, the pockets crammed with all kinds of archeological stuff. “It’s a nice morning for a little exploring, isn’t it?” She said cheerfully, helping herself to some strawberries and cream.
Barnaby filled his plate from the cart and sat down across from her. He stared into the distance. “What do you hope to gain by going with us?”
She licked some cream from her lips and popped another strawberry into her mouth. I saw the smoke coming out of his ears and handed him a glass of OJ. He gulped it down. “The same thing you want,” she said, waving another strawberry at him. “The recovery of the other four artifacts.”
I gave him some more orange juice. He guzzled it down. “We don’t need you for that.”
“Yes, you do.” She finished her treat and sat back with one foot drawn up confidently on the seat of the deck chair. “I have no doubt you are good at your job, but none of you are archeologists. You need someone who can identify the signs of artificial construction among layers of dirt and corrosive elements. Someone who can bring them to the surface without disturbing the environment. I can do that.”
“We’ll get Dr. Schneider to work with us,” said Barnaby. “It’s his project.”
She scowled at him.
“Dr. Schneider is a renowned paleontologist. If it’s as dangerous as you say it is, don’t do that to him. He’s too valuable.”
“And you?”
“I enjoy kicking ass.”
We were silent, trying to come up with ways to discourage her. We were all running out of ideas. Barnaby straightened his already ramrod back and exhaled a smoky, orange-scented belch. He looked at her sternly. “Damian was telling the truth last night. We really can turn into dragons.”
“Cool,” she said unconcernedly. “Let me see you do it.”
He faltered. “Well, we can’t out on the patio. Someone might see us.”
“Then we’ll go inside,” she suggested.
He scratched his head. “I’m not sure that will work either. Four full-sized dragons in one room. We could do a lot of damage without meaning to.”
“I see.” She went to the cart and piled up some eggs and toast. “You’ll have to show me when we reach the cave.” She shoved egg onto a piece of toast and ate it down in two bites. Her rapid changes from siren to businesswoman were mind-bending. “You’ll have plenty of space in the cavern. In fact, you should be able to fly right down, no problem.”
“It’s easier,” said Barnaby without thinking.
She pursed her lips together. “There you are. The perfect opportunity.” She looked at our empty plates. “Are you ready?”
No, we weren’t ready, but we left with her anyway. We were prisoners to her will, slaves to her desires. We would follow her to the ends of the earth and beyond.
Irene
I’m a woman with defined tastes. I don’t remember a real time in my life when men didn’t find me attractive. Even as a child, the young boys tried to impress me, but I could out-shoot, out-run and out-climb any of them. By the time I was eight, I was excelling in the martial arts, adding judo to the things I could do.
Because I could have nearly any man I wanted, I wasted no time and chose a direct approach. Friends remained friends, but lovers were the ones who pulled all the stops, who satisfied me on every level – academically, athletically, philosophically and physically. All four of these guys passed the physical examination at a hundred-twenty-percent test score. Yet, they were all built differently. Orson was slender and agile, so gorgeous he could pass as a woman. He swam like nobody I’ve ever seen. It was like he was part of the water. He turned me on so much, I just had to know what it was like making love to him in his element. It was incredible. Our bodies wrapped around each other like serpents in the water.
Heath knew the ropes like he was born belaying. He was, as I insisted, a bit heavy for squeezing through cave openings, but somehow, he managed to do it. Maybe his limbs really could stretch. He had an earthy
look to him - chocolate brown hair, soft brown eyes, a ruddy complexion. He smelled like an outdoorsman. I swung close to him to inhale his scent. If I could have, I would have done him right there on the ropes. He was that sexy.
I liked picking Barnaby’s brain. He was like a walking encyclopedia when he forgot protocol. Even his protocol told me something, like being blocked from files on a computer. It alerted you to suspicions. AMP had a lot of blocked files. The more I researched, the more I realized they had been suppressing information for years; usually concerning very ancient, archeological digs. Barnaby wasn’t going to tell me, but I knew who would.
Yes, I manipulated Damian. It was too easy. I learned about his taste for drinking and gambling from Orson, who didn’t have a problem discussing the weaknesses of his mates, only the specifications of their careers. He freely told me about Heath’s obsession with guarding gold and his fear of dwarves. He discussed Barnaby’s smoking problem, agreeing it was out of control. And he said with a chuckle, “oh, and Damian! He’ll gamble away his mother. He’s drawn to cards like flies to honey.”
It took a few hours to find him in the unfamiliar town. By then, he was totally saturated. The team should have thanked me. It was one of the most disreputable establishments around. I had to go all Buffy the Vampire Killer on two crud balls lurking in the alley near the bar entrance. The doorman saw me deliver a final sidekick and a crud balls scuttle off and let me in immediately, no questions asked.
The place swarmed with crud balls – degenerates, con artists, cutthroats and thieves. I pushed through aggressively, clinging to my purse, which had a swinging thirty-eight revolver if I needed it, ranting, “I’m here to pick up my man. The asshole is not going to drain our entire life savings on a goddamned poker game. I’ve come to get him and beat some sense into him.”
I have a strong push. I’m also very good at looking angry. When I look angry, I look capable of pounding anyone who crosses my path. I got him out of there before he drained the US gold reserves.
I got him out of there. I got him in a cab. That was all humanitarian purpose. As drunk as he was though, I didn’t need to have sex with him to get him to start talking. That was all for me. Damian is the kind of guy girls can’t resist. He looks rocking, all dressed in black, his shirt open and rolled up at the sleeves. His eyes smolder blue-black fire. Even drunk, he’s gorgeous, like every rebel without a cause movie star wrapped into one package.
I’m okay with multiple lovers. I’ve had casual affairs with more than one man at a time, but I’ve never experienced falling head over heels with four men simultaneously before. There was something different about them. You didn’t break them up. As much as they quarreled, they were a unit. They bonded. Loving just one would drive an unforgivable wedge between them. It was something I couldn’t do. As much as I hated to admit it, even to myself, they were doing something important. They had the inside track to the deepest secrets known to mankind and they knew why they were kept secret.
I knew they didn’t want me going to the cave with them, but I felt by now, I deserved a few answers. We had lost our entire work crew, spooked by the idea they had awakened the Titans. The police determined there had been a murder. There was no evidence of a wasp’s nest anywhere in the cave. They believed the wasps had been deliberately set free on the victim. It satisfied them. It would have satisfied me if not for the viper that had materialized out of thin air and had vanished just as mysteriously. I wanted better answers.
The area was still cordoned off, but there was nobody present when we arrived, not even a few curious children. It seemed odd. Usually, a murder attracts onlookers. The area was being avoided like the plague.
“This looks deserted enough,” I told them.
“I guess so,” said Barnaby. He stalked around, unconvinced. “We’ll change in the cave.”
“Suit yourself.” Not that I completely disbelieved them. My family once spent six months in the Himalayas tracking the legendary yeti. We caught sight of one three times but was never able to photograph it and its tracks disappeared as quickly as the yeti. We had no proof to take home, yet my father was ecstatic. He had seen something with his own eyes he had always believed existed. Proving it no longer mattered.
I understood Dr. Schneider for this reason. He was a lot like my father. He had gone on a quest to prove a belief. It no longer mattered to him if nobody believed him. He had found his evidence and he was satisfied. Not me. As long as I had more questions than answers, I would never be satisfied.
I prodded Barnaby a bit and he reluctantly beckoned to the others. They trundled to the cavern opening like men given a death sentence. I didn’t start to worry though, until they lined up along the lip and looked down like they were going to jump. “Hey, now,” I objected. “I said to turn into dragons, not commit suicide.”
They acted like they hadn’t heard a word I said. Without another word, they jumped. My legs went rubbery and I fell to my knees. If this was a prank and they had hang- glider gear hidden in their clothing, it wasn’t very funny. In that instant between shock, disbelief and anger, I heard a rush of air and a bright red creature, looking much like an overgrown lizard with wings, flapped its way out of the pit, spitting a long stream of fire.
A silvery-blue creature followed close behind him. It was long, slim and writhed in the air like a serpent. Next to it flew a bird-like animal. Blue-black, it was truly remarkable, resembling something between a jet plane and a gigantic, metallic raven with a helmet. They rose to the ceiling of the cave and circled around, belching fire, water and flashing metal. The cave floor shuddered, a stream of pebbles bounced down the cliff walls, and a pterodactyl with a blunt head and chubby legs floated up out of the cavern and joined the other hovering … well, dragons.
Who was I kidding? They were dragons, all different, yet all resembling the dragons represented in ancient drawings. The big one that had to struggle more to get a decent air current to lift his cumbersome bulk, landed first, flapping and folding his wings in close to his body. He shook himself all over and in an instant, turned into Heath. I should have guessed. Always the big boy, he even made the bulkiest dragon.
Now that I understood, I could tell immediately who Barnaby was, a red-headed and smoking fire dragon. And of course, Orson was the silvery-blue water dragon and Damian of the daggers was the metal dragon. Nothing could surprise me any longer. It’s good to believe that. It prepares you better, especially if your line of work has a habit of coming up with surprises.
“So now you know,” said Damian, waiting for me to do something silly, like scream or cry.
I nodded in agreement. “Now I know. That’s convenient. Do you perform magic as well?”
He looked disappointed. “We’re not magical enough for you?”
“Can you make things disappear and reappear? Do you have any magic spells?”
They all hung their heads sadly. I didn’t mean them to think I wasn’t impressed with their abilities. I was. I just wanted to know how much mystical juju they could conjure up.
“We’re dragons, not sorcerers,” said Barnaby finally. He sounded miffed. He gave a loud burp and coughed up a small ball of fire.
Orson wrinkled his nose and waved at the air. “I told you to quit eating so many habaneros.”
He burped again. “I can’t help it. I’ve got a whole jar of them. They were a gift from my brother in Mexico.”
I knew we should be getting on with our job, but I had one more question. “Are you dragons that can turn into humans or humans that can turn into dragons?”
They looked at each other as though debating. Damian shook his head. “That’s lame. We’re dragons. We’re always dragons, no matter how we look.”
Okay. I wondered if I could write a dissertation on dragon personalities in existing ethnic cultures. Neah. It would be too much work. The path of discovery was a lot more fun than a lot of psychology jargon. If we were going down, we were going down. I started to ready my belaying rope when it
occurred to me, “you guys are flying down, aren’t you? You’re not using the ropes?”
“I don’t need your stinkin’ ropes,” mumbled Damian. In a flash, he changed back into a dragon.
“I don’t want them either,” agreed Orson.
“One of you take me on your back. Let me fly down with you.”
They had all changed back into dragon form by now. They shook their scales and shuffled their feet. “I’ll do it,” said Heath. “I’ll take you down. It’s safest that way. The others are too fast. You’ll fall off.”
I didn’t really doubt that. I had seen them zoom up out of the pit. For a first- time flyer, it was better I stuck to ole reliable instead of a sports model. I climbed up on his ample back and held on.
Forget those fairy tales where after one startling moment, the hero is swooping confidently through the air on the back of a friendly dragon. It takes as long to learn to ride one as it does a horse or a camel. I felt my butt slide back and forth with the roll of his muscles and dug my knees in for grip. When he landed at the bottom of the cavern, I was still trying to adjust to my new ride.
We took a quick inventory of the corridors. The archeological team had packed up and moved out. There wasn’t so much as a tray or brush in sight. Nothing was left but the yellow tape still cordoning the area where the victim had been found.
“Well, that sucks,” I said, disappointed. “I was hoping they would at least leave behind a camera for documentation. My cellphone has a crap camera.”
“You don’t need a camera,” said Barnaby. “You’re not going to document anything.”
I loved Barnaby but he could be a royal pain. All I wanted was some nice, sharp photos to show the archeological society. It’s not like I was planning to give away military defense secrets. Just truth for the hungry. “I suppose everything we do here today will be classified,” I said with an exasperated edge.
