A Gun to the Head

The emergency lights came on only after a few seconds had transpired.  In that time, not only was the book gone from its elaborate air-controlled clear safe, but the elderly man now held a gun to Luca’s head.

“What in the actual hell is happening?” Beecher demanded.

Katalea responded by instinct.  After training so long with Dalya, it was second nature to disarm a foe.  Instantly the gun flew from the man’s hands and streamed towards her outstretched hands.  Before the deadly projectile landed however, Dakari surprised everyone by removing them all from the room. Zap! Including Luca.

They stood in a tight circle back in the room of their earlier meeting.  Questioning eyes darted everywhere, and as far as Katalea could see, the security detail had not made the journey.

“I didn’t know you could do that!” Katalea exclaimed.  

“Nor did I….in fact, I don’t think that was all my doing.”  He turned to Zinnia.  “I could feel you with me on that, how much of that was you?”

She smiled shyly, “I don’t like guns.  I wanted to get out of there, so I tuned in to you to see how I could help.  Please forgive me, I was not trying to invade your privacy.”

“You probably just saved us all, how could I be upset?” Dakari said, his face showing gratitude.  Turning to Luca who now stood with the others looking bewildered.

“Who was that man, Dr. Johansson?” Aquina emphasized the last name, obviously disbelieving he had used his real name.

Luca stood rubbing his hands over his temples.  That man is…..was,” he corrected, then went on, “my colleague.”  “His name is David Spector.  Up until now, he has seemed like a bookish old man, he always acted as if he loved every minute he put in at work.  He would joke about talking non-stop about books to a disgruntled wife at home.”

Zinnia swept a hand across the room transforming it into a cozy living room complete with roaring  fireplace along one wall.  Luca, appreciative of the overstuffed sofa, sat down with a sigh.  “We called him “Specs’, a mix of his last name and those thick glasses he always wore.  He has worked on historic restorations with us for at least a year. His work is highly respected and often published.  I can’t understand what would cause that to happen.”

The group considered this, but no one spoke.  “What now?”  Was the question on all their minds, but it went unsaid.

“Oh, I almost forgot,” slapping his head in exaggeration, Luca reached for his phone.  “I placed a tracker on the oilcloths just in case they got separated from the actual script.”

He started to pull up an app but Dakari interrupted him.  “No need, I know where the book is.”

All heads whipped around to stare at him.  Katalea tried to read his eyes but failed.  Their mate bond was too new and not yet consummated.  She waited like everyone else for an explanation.

“When the lights went out like that, I felt like I was back in the dragon’s lair.  I felt like I was trapped inside a cage again, granted, this time a very hi-tech bookish prison.”  He looked from face to face and continued, “I felt panic, dread, full fight or flight terror.  I sent the book back to the safest place I could think of, and got us the hell out too.”

“Where is this safe place?” Luca questioned, anxious lines forming on his brow.  “It needs to be weather protected.”

“I sent it to Freedom Island.  To Katalea’s grandparents house to be more specific.  That place is guarded around the clock, and no one but a werecat can get on the island in the first place.” He explained.

The worry lines deepend on Luca’s face.  “You sent the book back to the island?  The same island it came from, with the same balmy air that could disintegrate the pages if exposed?”  He rubbed his hands over his shiny scalp.  If he had hair it would be turning grey with this news.

“If this book is meant to be read by us, and I believe it is, it will survive.”

“Using that logic, it could have stayed here.”  Luca countered.

Beecher had been watching the talks like a fan watching a tennis game.  His head snapped from one to another, but on Luca’s last point he hopped up and dragged Luca’s hand into a victory pose.  “He’s gotcha there, partner.”

“And so he does,” Dakari nodded, grinning wide, “But what’s done is done. The bigger question now is, ‘How do we get all of you on the island?”

♾♾♾♾♾

Dalya woke drenched in a cold sweat.  Her dreams often terrified her, and she dreaded falling into a deep sleep.  The baby that grew inside her demanded rest, and Dalya gave in to the sensation even if it meant nightmares. 

This latest dream showed Lord Hassan as he wished to be seen, young, handsome, charming.  When she saw him like that she longed to go to him.  She recognized him as her mate and wanted to unite with him.  Her dreams were often erotic, and on those days she woke up feeling restless and horny.

She knew in her mind that Lord Hassan was bad news.  He would use her, and possibly worse.  When she was rational she knew she needed to reject him to break the mate bond that had somehow formed.  It seemed so simple in the daylight hours.  The doctors counseled that she wait for the baby to be born, since the emotions a rejection could bring could harm the fetus.  

It wouldn’t be too long.  She had only been pregnant for a few weeks and she already had a massive baby bump.  The baby kicked relentlessly inside her and she imagined a sweet little girl, or boy, she didn’t care which, readying for life as a werecat. She would not let her mind go to the other possibilities.  Thinking of raising a baby weredragon with the temper and power of a god only stressed her more.  

As she contemplated her situation, the doctor strolled in for his daily check up.  He was dressed in a soft blue button-down shirt with his doctor coat over it.  His face reflected calm, a calm Dalya could not feel herself, but tried to absorb.   He matter-of-factly pulled up her shirt and measured her baby bump.  His kind eyes flashed surprise, only for a second, but Dalya caught it. 

“Another two inches today.” He said, like this was normal.  He noted it in her chart and he continued his exam.

“Are you drinking plenty of water, taking your vitamins?”  he asked, his tone mild.

“Yes, and I am forcing myself to walk around the grounds at least once a day.”

“What about cravings?  Anything abnormal?” He asked.

“I have a taste for liquor. I have never had a drink of hard alcohol before, the only thing I have ever sampled was champagne at formal ceremonies.  Suddenly I want vodka, whiskey, and a host of other spirits I don’t know the name of.”

The doctor’s eyebrows raised.  Dalya could see that she had stumped him.  She knew he would go back and tell the others and there would be no alcohol anywhere near her.  That was ok, she knew it wasn’t good for the baby, cat or dragon.

The doctor left her with some new oils for her ever growing stretch marks, and the promise of another visit the next day.  

Dalya walked him out to the front door.  Not one guard joined her as she stood on the driveway waving him off.  They all seemed relaxed when the doctor was near.  Dalya knew that would be her only chance to escape.