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- Natalie J. Damschroder
Soul of the Dragon Page 4
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Her travels went unchallenged in those first seven floors. She knew it would be harder the higher she went. She doubted she’d get onto the executive floor, or the top floor, obviously the bastion of The Man himself. Floor eight was human resources, with its confidential files and managers with a false sense of power, and Alexa figured it would be the end of the line. Still, she mapped half the floor before she was approached.
“May I help you?” The woman’s utter politeness made Alexa think of a fifties-era socialite housewife. She wore a pink Chanel suit á la Jackie Kennedy, and her hair was plastered into a high French twist. She eyed Alexa’s biking boots and leather jacket with barely masked distaste. “Are you here for an interview?” She even had a strong Georgia accent.
“Ah sure am.” Alexa registered the woman’s surprise at her voice. She didn’t look like a Georgia peach. But Alexa’s specialty—one of many—was accents.
The woman smiled and led her into a small, bare office clearly kept for interviews. “Ah’m Jolie Smith, the Assistant Director of Human Relations. You are?”
“Anell Breathwater.”
“Of course.” The woman motioned to a chair and sat behind the desk, looking for all the world as if she’d been expecting Alexa/Anell. “I’m afraid I don’t have your résumé handy. Can you refresh mah memory?”
“Oh, ah’m certain it’s my pleasure.” Alexa rattled off an on-the-spot work and social history in Atlanta.
“I’m from Atlanta!” Ms. Smith declared, touching her fingertips to her chest.
Alexa smiled self-deprecatingly. “I’m sure we didn’t sail in the same circles.”
“Well, Atlanta is such a large city,” Jolie agreed. “Do go on.”
They spent quite a pleasant half hour discussing Alexa’s “qualifications” and her potential role in the company administration. Alexa probed for Dragonsoul’s inner workings via standard interview questions and managed to pick up a few tidbits.
“I’ve read so much about Mr. Suinn,” she said at one point. “What kind of a boss is he?”
Jolie glowed. “Mr. Suinn is extremely generous. He knows every employee here bah name, as well as what they do and how well they do it. If you go the extra mile, you’ll be rewarded handsomely.”
“And if you screw up?”
Jolie’s brow furrowed and Alexa realized the phraseology was out of character. “Mistakes are dealt with, and solutions found in a manner that best fits the company’s and the employee’s needs.”
Ambiguous enough, Alexa thought. Probably masking a swift retaliation program. She let Jolie wrap up the interview and declined a tour.
“I’m a bit overwhelmed,” she claimed, thickening the accent and drooping a little. “I need to process what I’ve learned today.” More like, she needed to get out of there before she pushed her luck too far.
“Of course. And there will be a second interview, so when we call you back we can do the tour then.”
“Who will conduct the second interview?”
“Some members of management, including Mr. Suinn if he is in town. He does like to be involved in every aspect of operations,” Jolie confided.
Alexa smiled vaguely and followed the woman back to the main area. “I’m not certain which phone number I put on my résumé. I’ve sent out so many.” She fluttered her eyelashes. “Could you look for me? I would absolutely detest missing your call because I didn’t update your file!”
“Just one moment.”
Alexa waited ten minutes while the woman looked for non-existent paperwork. Finally, so flustered a strand of hair had come loose from her twist, she asked Alexa to complete another application.
“I swahr I don’t know what could have happened to that file!” Jolie fiddled with her pearls. “Do you have another résumé with you?”
Alexa looked up from her clipboard. “I’m afraid I ran out and didn’t realize it until this morning. I can send you one.”
“Please. I’m very sorry for the inconvenience.”
Alexa handed over the application and smiled sweetly. “It’s no trouble. Thank you.”
“No, thank you.”
Alexa whistled her way back downstairs. She’d skip the executive floors this time around. She had no doubt that if Tars Suinn was here, he had followed her progress through the building and was possibly getting a good chuckle out of her impromptu interview. Every action would be on tape, including her real foray into a fourth floor ladies’ room. It didn’t matter. Alexa would go home and map the parts of the building she’d seen, then manufacture a résumé to send to Jolie Smith, Assistant Director of Human Relations. She could even provide references. Anell Breathwater was one of Alexa’s GenCom aliases, and the numbers she’d supplied would ring to voice mail. Someone would call back with a positive reference, no questions asked.
When she emerged from the stairwell, Alexa was cocky enough to tilt down her sunglasses, wink at the single visible camera in the lobby, then blow a kiss toward one of the not-so-visible ones. She sensed when Tars was no longer watching her.
And also sensed when another pair of eyes picked up the surveillance outside the building.
* * *
When Alexa wheeled into the hangar, Cyrgyn was moving restlessly back and forth. If he’d had room, he’d be pacing.
She turned off the bike and dismounted, then strode to the door to close it. She heard a low growl and chuckled quietly.
“Alexa, stop torturing me. What happened?”
She moved to his end of the hangar and dropped into an upholstered chair. “Pretty basic layout. I got in easily. Probably too easily. I’m sure Tarsuinn was watching me the whole time.”
The growl got louder.
“It’s okay. I never saw him. In fact, I lucked out.” She told him about her interview. “They’ll call me back for a second meeting and I’ll get into the inner sanctum. Invited, no less.”
“Why is that luck?”
“Because I can get near Tarsuinn with other people around. I don’t have to break the law to get to the upper floors. It’s more information gathering.”
Cyrgyn’s wings unfurled a bit. “I still do not like it. It is risky.”
Alexa puffed her frustration. “Cyrgyn, this whole deal is risky. We can’t succeed without risk. You know that.”
“Yes, I know.” He visibly relaxed and settled to the floor. “I am feeling more desperate this time, Alexa. I am less inclined to place you in a vulnerable situation. I hold hope with a very slippery talon.” He sighed, and Alexa caught the scent of smoke. He was still burning.
“In our first life, we feared too much,” he said. “We did not act. Indeed, we did not truly feel we could act. But we hoped in the next life we would be able to reverse the curse.
“Then it took two hundred and fifty years for your rebirth. Hope had dimmed, and I rushed your training. I pushed you to attack, to find Tarsuinn and try to force him to reverse the curse.”
“Apparently, you haven’t learned your lesson.” Alexa still found these discussions odd. The past seemed all too unreal, despite her compulsion to rectify it. She wanted to succeed not only because she always succeeded at a mission, or because Cyrgyn wanted her to, but because something burned deep within her to achieve her destiny.
“My lesson?” Cyrgyn asked.
Alexa swung her legs over the arm of the chair. “You say you rushed things before, pushed me before I was ready. You’re going to the opposite extreme now. You’re trying too hard to protect me.”
“You are correct.”
Alexa was surprised that he admitted it so readily. “No arguments?”
He rose again and half turned his massive body. “My dear, I am over a thousand years old. Even the most stubborn soul must learn something in that time.”
“So you agree that I don’t need your protection.”
Snort. “No, I do not. We require a partnership, Alexa, as you said. You cannot do it all on your own. But I am hampered by my incarnation.” His wings flexed ag
ain. “I cannot travel undetected during daylight. I cannot enter the buildings of your cities. I cannot assist you.”
Alexa glanced up at the skylight. “The day is almost over, Cyrgyn. You can go in a little while.”
He curled his talons and she heard the mattress beneath him tear. “I can fly. I can hunt. It will ease this terrible tension, but it will not allow me to help you.”
Alexa stood and went to him, placing a hand on his neck. His scales felt hot, as if he had a furnace roaring inside. Which, of course, he did. “We have a long way to go, friend. You will not be helpless.”
His neck curved as he swung his head around to look at her. “You patronize. Helpless is exactly what I am. I am one of the most physically powerful creatures in the world, and I am helpless.”
Alexa stood for a moment, not knowing what to say. She understood, because she felt helpless to comfort him. She gratefully moved away when the phone rang.
Anell Breathwater’s phone.
“How many of those do you have?” Cyrgyn asked, obviously not recognizing the orange device.
“Ten. Shh.” She flipped open the phone and turned into Anell.
“Mah dear, I’m so glad I was able to reach you so quickly.”
“Mz. Smith. I’m delighted to hear from you.” Alexa almost laughed when Cyrgyn’s eyebrows rose at her accent.
“Mr. Suinn is in town and wondered if you could return this afternoon for a second interview?”
Alexa would have chortled if the phone had a mute button. Now that she’d made a move, Mr. Suinn was a bit overeager. She glanced at her watch. Nearly five. “I’m sorry, I couldn’t possibly get back there today. I am free tomorrow.”
“Oh, dear. Please hold.”
Alexa grinned and gave Cyrgyn a thumbs-up.
Jolie Smith came back on the line. “Luckily, Mr. Suinn will be able to meet with you tomorrow at nine a.m.”
“Hmmm. Can we make it nine-thirty? I do have another interview at eight.”
Jolie sighed and put her on hold again. Alexa was trying to get the upper hand, however small, with Tars. She hoped it wouldn’t backfire.
“Nine thirty will be suitable. Please be on time. Mr. Suinn is a very busy man.”
“I sure will, Mz. Smith,” Alexa gushed. “Thank you so much for this opportunity.” She snapped the phone shut.
“I got him.”
“Alexa.”
She strode to the stairs and began to climb them two at a time. “Actually, he’s thinking he has me. I know he’s not fooled. He’s probably amused by this whole thing.”
“Alexa.”
She shed her leather jacket and hung it on a hook, then began to peel off her tank top. She’d gotten sweaty and was tired of having it cling to her. “Still, I ended up on top—”
“Alexa!”
She paused, arms crossed, her midriff exposed. The barest hint of breeze cooled her skin and her nipples hardened.
“I may be dragon, but I am also man. Please do not disrobe in front of me.”
Alexa stared at the dragon. She pictured him as a man, imagined him watching her undress, and was embarrassed by her mild arousal. It was like undressing in front of a dog, yet as he’d just pointed out, it was so not like that. She felt the flush creep all the way to her toes, and barely managed to mumble “Sorry” before escaping.
Cyrgyn watched her disappear into her room. He felt shame for embarrassing her, but his frustration built until he felt he’d burst his scales.
He had to escape.
It was still much too early to leave without detection. Even if he managed to launch straight up to great height, the sun would reflect off his scales and be visible for miles. The unexpected flash of light would attract attention by nature of its unexpectedness and could distract pilots or drivers, causing accidents.
He could not be that selfish.
But, of course, it was his nature to be selfish, was it not? To endanger the woman he had loved, was beginning to love again—was that not purely selfish?
Yet he could not be otherwise, when he considered the alternative.
Alexa emerged a short time later in shorts and a new tank top. She went to her computer and turned it on, never looking at him.
“More research?” Cyrgyn detested that he had made her uncomfortable.
“No, I need to write up a résumé for Jolie Smith.” Her tone was detached and she did not look at him.
“Alexa, I am sorry.”
“It’s fine. I wasn’t thinking.”
“We need to consider the future,” he said softly. “You should begin to think. We both should. I am not a childhood pet. I am your soulmate. What will happen if…when we succeed?”
Alexa didn’t answer, and Cyrgyn wished dragons could cry.
Chapter Four
Alexa prepared for the interview by reviewing what she knew about Tars Suinn and going over some new information Kurt had sent her. There had been rumors of drug or arms smuggling that went nowhere. A disgruntled employee claimed his former boss masterminded an exotic animal smuggling ring; a competitor, apparently frustrated with his continued second place status, provided a tip that Tars was insider trading.
No one had ever found evidence of anything, and Alexa wasn’t surprised. Those crimes were too pedestrian for Tarsuinn the Mage. She would expect him to be involved in high-tech crimes, maybe changing information in military databases or realigning satellites for his own uses. Modern magic.
When she got up the next morning, she dressed carefully in a fitted pantsuit made of a material that stretched and accommodated her need for freedom of movement. She wore low-heeled shoes and holstered a small Taser under the flared hip of her jacket. She wouldn’t get away with a gun, though she stowed a kubaton and pepper spray in her handbag. She brought two digital phones and hid one beneath the false bottom of her bag. Finally, she clipped a tiny panic button to the inside of her right sleeve.
“If I’m in something I can’t get out of,” she told Cyrgyn, “I’ll hit this. It’ll signal here.” She strapped the receiver to Cyrgyn’s foreleg. “It’ll shrill for ten seconds, then light red. It’ll serve as a beacon after that, glowing red fading to yellow as you get closer. Once you’re within ten yards it’ll flash green. But you won’t need it,” she concluded.
“So its purpose is to appease the neurotic dragon.” He lifted his paw and studied the unit. Alexa laughed, distracting him. It was true laughter, not a cynical snort or an amused chuckle. “Beautiful,” he murmured, as much as a dragon can murmur. “Be safe, Alexa.” She winked at him, and left in the Saturn.
* * *
Tars waited with barely restrained patience for Alexa to arrive for her interview. When Jolie showed her in to the conference room, his whole body said “Finally.”
She was exquisite. She’d pulled her gleaming mahogany hair back into a clip that left it swinging behind her head. The style brought her cheekbones into sharp relief. She’d done some makeup thing that framed her gray eyes, but it wasn’t necessary. He’d tell her it wasn’t necessary. Soon. When she was his.
Her tailored pantsuit hid, no doubt, a subtle cache of weapons that she’d never dare use on him. It also hid the curves of her breasts. He preferred the clothing of their original time, when her lovely bosom had heaved above the neckline of her peasant dress. Heaved for him. Her legs, however, though covered, were nonetheless displayed in all their glory, a sight he was not used to, a sight that made his heart race and impatience threaten to take over his actions.
He never gave in to impatience.
He watched while Jolie introduced “Anell” to his executives.
“Suzanne Wortman, Vice President of Human Relations.”
Alexa nodded and smiled pleasantly. Without looking, Tars was aware of the cool incline of the head that Suzanne would give her.
“Bart Hammond, Vice President of Operations, for whom you would be working.”
The man sitting next to Tars grinned broadly at Alexa.
“Winifred Botampkin.”
The head of security said nothing, and Tars saw awareness in Alexa’s eyes. She was smart. She knew who she was facing.
Ah, yes, she knew. Her focus sharpened when Jolie introduced Tars, and a smile hovered on her lips. He was hard-pressed not to smile back.
“And here is our Say-Ay-Oh,” Jolie proudly held a hand out to him. “Mr. Suinn.” With her accent the Mr. came out like “master.” Appropriate, he thought.
Let the games begin.
“Mr. Suinn.”
Alexa gave him a tiny wink and turned her attention back to Suzanne, who was beginning the interview. Tars didn’t bother to hide his laugh in a cough, and Winifred looked at him oddly, then glared at Alexa again.
“Tell us about your work experience, Ms. Breathwater. We received your faxed résumé but we like to know details. Some examples of projects you worked on.”
Alexa answered question after question posed by the two vice presidents. Bart was a reformed good-old-boy who tried to keep his questions on safe ground. Alexa almost lost her accent at one point when he asked her how long her legs were, then backpedaled to make it how long she’d been at her last job.
Tars watched her fool his top people into believing she was a boringly competent administrator from Atlanta. Things were going a bit long, he thought, but decided to let her sweat it out. She was getting restless, her eyes flashing annoyance instead of pleasantness. She didn’t fidget, however, and he was forced to admire her restraint. He himself had shifted half a dozen times in ten minutes.
Finally Winifred had completed her list of criminal-check questions, and his interviewers rose, ready to dismiss their candidate. Alexa stayed where she was and looked at him.