by Cara Wylde
The antidotes for the five types of shifter venom didn’t do anything to change that fact. This new cure was a way to quell the heartache that came with the human brides of male shifters dying centuries before the lifespans of their husbands and the children they had with them were done. The serum was designed for the shifters’ mates and it was carefully regulated by the Council of the Six Factions. Astrid found a certain bias in that, but tried not to focus on it too much. After all, it was a good idea to keep things under control and only allow the mail-order brides to become hybrids. Otherwise, if all humans wanted to be bitten by shifters so they could take the antidotes and turn into hybrids, there would be no humans left in just a couple of years. She didn’t want to think of what sort of impact that could have on everyone.
“It’s a fairly simple compound,” James said as they entered a wide room where a couple of scientists worked at their tables.
“Simple to you, perhaps,” Astrid said, her eyes getting dizzy looking at the formulas on the main whiteboard.
“Touché,” he said with a laugh. “This is a new thing we’re working on. The antidotes for the wolf venom, bear venom, and fox venom are quite easy to make, but the ones for dragon venom and eagle venom take too much time and effort. We’re trying to come up with a new method that would speed up the process. Thanks to the new laws and regulations in place, more and more shape-shifters are taking mail-order brides. We just want to bring families together and keep them together, so we have to stay on top.” he said.
“Is that so?”
Astrid didn’t mean to sound so pessimistic. She didn’t even know James, but it was hard to think that Harington Pharmaceuticals was in this only for the good it did. After all, this was a world where medical services were ridiculously expensive, and various drugs created addiction before they actually healed. Could it be different with the antidotes?
“Very much,” he said. “That’s why the cures are free.”
She smiled. Yes, that was right. They were free.
“We’re not about capital here, we’re about results and helping others.”
Astrid was shocked by how serious his face was. It was completely sincere, without any hint of sarcasm. The man meant what he said, and looked even a little hurt that Astrid didn’t quite believe him.
“Of course,” she tried to salvage the awkward situation. “That’s why you need funds.”
“I realize we don’t know much about each other,” James said. “And that’s probably important before we move forward, don’t you think?”
She felt herself turn red, just slightly. No one had ever made her blush before. For once, she thought the sway in her walk might not be enough to give her the confidence she needed to get through a conversation with this man. It was obvious that when it came to the work he did here, James didn’t like to be doubted or questioned.
“Your Alpha and Beta are nowhere to be found,” he said, taking her silence for compliance. “I’m by no means disappointed, but slightly confused.”
“It’s a bit embarrassing, in all honestly,” she said. “We’ve got renovations on our home in Norway. Young shifters are a dangerous thing, and my nephews, Jax and Carr, pretty much destroyed an entire wing of the palace while learning to fly. Eric and Viggo are overseeing the situation.”
They walked out of the room and entered the next one.
“I know you’re used to discussing these matters with them,” continued Astrid.
James nodded. Indeed, he, Eric, and Viggo had spent hours talking about the antidotes and how Harington Pharmaceuticals could better serve both shape-shifters and humans. The Alpha and the Beta understood what James was doing here and that the ridiculous funds they needed for the research were well spent.
“You’re not nervous at all, are you?” he smiled. He knew she was doing her best to keep up with his explanations. “I’d like to make you feel at home here.” The point was for her to understand what was happening, what he was trying to do, and tell her Alpha that it was okay for Clan Drekinn to pour more money into his research.
“I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t nervous,” she said carefully. “This is all new to me. This whole antidotes business… I’m a bit out of my comfort zone.”
He nodded. “Making ourselves vulnerable is the beginning of progress. My father taught me that.”
She smiled. He probably did have a point. She was out of her element, out of her home, and more jittery than she wanted to admit, but it was a learning experience. She would be grateful for it, in the end, no matter how awkward it was to get through the first hour, until she had a better understanding of how Harington Pharmaceuticals worked. Eric would have the final say when it came to funding James’s new experiments, but she still had to pay attention so she could give Eric the right information.
“Thank you for being so honest,” he said. In truth, he was surprised that a dragon girl had actually admitted to being nervous in a foreign environment. “I think we know each other a little better now.” Why did he have this strong urge to be protective of her?
“Well, you know me better. You haven’t said a word about yourself.” Or admitted to any weaknesses, she wanted to add.
“And here I was, hoping you wouldn’t notice.”
He had a dazzling smile that put her at ease almost instantly. She wanted to believe it was an act, that there was a catch. But everything about him radiated sincerity; it was almost like he couldn’t be real. His smooth voice, his bright smile, the fresh scent of his skin when he leaned in to draw her attention to what he was saying… They all did something to her, to her body.
“I worked very hard to get where I am, and people still think everything was handed to me because my father is who he is. It leaves a bit of a chip on my shoulder,” he said with a shrug that hid deeper frustration.
“Well, why don’t you tell me about your work?”
James clasped his hands behind his back and gestured for her to step forward. They walked through tall, heavy doors into a very sterile looking room that might have come out of an 80s sci-fi movie.
“To say the lab is state of the art sounds cliché, but it’s true. We’ve pulled resources from over 30 countries between equipment, staff, and organic materials. This is one of the largest cooperative projects since the Human Genome Project.”
He gestured towards the people in lab coats who went about with clipboards and samples, speaking to each other and typing furiously on computers and into calculators. This room was bigger and better equipped. It looked like it was the heart of the facility, where the real magic happened.
“We do important work,” he said, more to himself than to her. “And we’ve had so many breakthroughs in the past ten years…”
“I sense a ‘but’ in there,” Astrid said.
James turned to look at her with a grim smile, and he sighed.
“It’s not what you want to hear. It’s not what anyone wants to hear. But we need more funds to advance,” he said with a shrug and such a look of innocent shame on his pleasant features, that Astrid felt sorry for him the way you might for a puppy lost on the street.
“Explain,” she said, not unkindly, but perhaps trying too hard to hide her sympathy.
“The mail-order bride system is incredibly hard to keep up with,” he said, as they continued to walk between desks, whiteboards, and medical equipment. “These women learn and train for months, and even years, so they can join shifter clans and offer their Alphas and Betas heirs. It works for everyone: the mail-order bride agencies get massive donations, and the shifters get human wives who can ensure the continuation of their species. Those are the two most important things in the world to anyone: money and children. How can we keep up with that?”
“I see,” Astrid said, trying not to sound as bitter as she felt.
If James understood the awkwardness of the conversation for her, he didn’t show it. He was a highly clinical man. He was, essentially, talking about helping shape-shifters find mates and bu
ild strong families when Astrid herself couldn’t even allow herself to think about ever having that.
They walked on, and he talked more, moving on from the heavier needs. It was her job to remember, to write everything down, and report back. But the lighter the conversation got, the harder it was for her to focus. She was fascinated by his passion, his beliefs, and the ease with which he spoke of things she didn’t quite understand.
“The genome is a fascinating thing,” he said while they stopped to admire a piece of art his father had commissioned. It showed genes like galaxies across a map of the night sky. “It takes four things to create life: protein, a protective fatty membrane, DNA, and a chemical reaction. We have all these things: amino acids, lipid cell walls, a metabolism, and the blueprint for our existence... It’s all very fascinating.”
“I wish I could offer you more than a head nod,” Astrid said, chuckling.
“Having not lost your attention yet is enough for me. Most people tell me to shut up by this point.”
“I can’t imagine anyone ever wanting you to shut up.”
“Talk to my father sometime.”
The tour of the lab did become a bit mundane. There were only so many sterile rooms and whiteboards full of calculations Astrid could take before her mind started to drift. His voice and everything he said kept her grounded, however. Every second, he delivered a new fact or piece of information, and he explained everything so seamlessly, like all this intelligence was just sitting beneath the surface of his brain, cresting up like waves and letting itself be known, only for a while. She believed what he’d said before: he must have worked hard for this position. He was too smart to have let something be handed to him.
They walked on through the facility, and he spewed more jargon to which Astrid could only smile and nod. She was good at that: looking pretty and feigning interest. The difference here, however, was that she truly did want to be interested. She wanted to hear him talk about all of this, about anything he wanted to talk about, really. She imagined the two of them in a low-lit restaurant over dry wine, or at a small table in a corner coffee shop, with black coffees before them and the smell of espresso everywhere. James would be going on and on about his job, and she would be listening patiently, lost in the passion she could see in his deep blue eyes.
This wasn’t exactly an ideal train of thought for where they were and what they were meant to be doing, but it certainly made her day much brighter.
***
For all of James’s looks, and he knew he had them, he had never quite mastered the art of communicating with, or understanding women. He fumbled when he tried, and he felt at a loss when he looked into Astrid’s golden eyes and tried to guess what was going on in that pretty head of hers. It was probably facts, figures, and all the paperwork. She seemed to be driven with a keen mind, if her measured expressions were any hint to what was going on underneath the surface.
He was good at talking about work, however. Most women didn’t want to hear the details behind the pharmaceutical industry, at least not the ones that didn’t have to do with how much money he made. But this scenario seemed tailored to his skills. He could talk to her for days without feeling like he was losing her, or boring her to death. Of course, this was a business meeting. Still, it seemed a shame to let such an opportunity go by when it had fallen into his lap so comfortably. He wasn’t sweaty or nervous or babbling, though his throat was very dry and his palms were a bit clammy. He could blame it on the humid weather.
“I think we’ve covered the entire facility,” he said.
“It’s been highly informative. Though, I’ll have to do some of my own Google research to understand half of what you said.”
She smiled up at him, and James’s heart skipped a beat. The timing was perfect. If only he could find the right words…
“That seems to be the way with most of my conversations.”
“I enjoyed it thoroughly.”
For a brief second, they felt like they were the only ones in the room, even though they were surrounded by security guards and technicians in lab coats. There were also cameras everywhere, but her smile was dazzling, and he couldn’t help but look at her face as if he had just seen the eighth wonder of the world. Astrid was looking up at him, although he wasn’t much taller than her. Neither of them knew exactly what to say.
The spell was broken when her phone went off. She smiled apologetically and checked it quickly. She slid it back into the slender cut of her pocket, the shape of it obvious against the tight fabric of her dress.
“I need to be getting back to the lap of luxury of my hotel downtown,” she said. She was only half kidding; they had given her the penthouse suite.
“Lots to consider here…” He was trying to figure out a way to make the conversation last longer.
“I’ll need to update my Alpha before we make any decisions on what to do about your requests.”
He nodded.
“I imagine I’m going to get a formal-looking memo mentioning the budget.”
“Absolutely.”
She nodded, and he held the door open for her, opting to walk her out himself. He had exactly 14 floors to figure out how best to end this conversation, and whether he had the nerve to do what he was planning on doing. It dwindled down to 12 floors, then less than 10. It wouldn’t be out of the realm of possibility. She was new to the city, and probably needed someone to show her where to get dinner or drinks after she shut off her phone for the day. He was being a gracious host and a good friend, right?
“Astrid,” he said, as they approached the glass double doors of the main entrance. “I’m eager to know what your Alpha has to say about all of this, and I’d like to show you my favorite restaurant, too. We could combine both into a dinner tonight, if you’re interested?”
It wasn’t the tone he had really wanted to approach her with, but it was certainly a smooth way to get his invitation across. And the smile on her face was like the slow glow of an ember waiting to light up.
“I’d enjoy that very much.”
CHAPTER TWO
James had always been nervous about dates. He had a track record of being poor at them. That was why he had to remind himself this was not a date, and Astrid was not a woman he had met online or whose number he had gotten on a night out with his friends. This was a professional meeting between two people, over dinner…
He hoped it would turn into a date.
It was Valentine’s Day, after all. There had to be some element of romance in all of this, even if it was harmless flirting and batted eyelashes. God, her eyes must be beautiful in candlelight! But they were going to talk about business, the antidotes, the funds Harington Pharmaceuticals needed. No technical talk this time; Astrid needed to know he could talk about other things, too. He would make it about goals, try to appeal to her moral center for help, and, hopefully, invite her for a nice walk through the lights of the city, if the weather stayed mild.
James put on a pressed navy blue collared shirt, and topped it off with another deep black sport coat. He wondered whether it would be overkill to place a small pocket square in. It was too formal, too fancy, but he did it anyway. She would probably be in the same exact clothes she wore to see him at the lab. She probably wouldn’t even really freshen up with perfume. A woman like her wouldn’t get dressed up to impress a mere mortal.
But he couldn’t get her eyes and that long, blonde hair out of his head. He probably didn’t stand a chance, but it was hard not to hope when it came to her. She’d laughed with him, listened intently, talked with him about what interested him the most. Her eyes had sparkled, and the crinkles at the edges when she chuckled were like waves he wanted nothing more than to get completely and utterly lost in.
As he walked out of his apartment building, he resisted the calls from every street vendor on the way there to buy flowers. They easily caught his dress and assumed his plans. This wasn’t a date, but he lived in the vicarious world where the people around him thoug
ht that it was. It was a nice place to be, in the world these people imagined him in.
Astrid had sent him the name of her hotel via e-mail. He hadn’t dared to ask for her number to confirm plans, and kept things as professional as possible. He had read articles before, during his insomniac nights, about how relationships fell apart in the digital age when one partner texted more than the other, or someone moved too fast by calling instead of sending a Facebook message. It was ridiculous and awful, but James was not about to ruin whatever this could be with Astrid over a clumsy mistake like that.
“No accidentally making myself seem way more forward than I want to be, and no flowers,” he muttered under his breath as he passed another flower vendor.
He should come up with conversation starters just to make sure he didn’t run out of things to say. It had never seemed to be a problem before, but Astrid was different. He was constantly making a fool of himself in front of women by never actually shutting up about everything and anything. Astrid had listened to all he’d said earlier that day, which meant he had to keep coming up with things to say that were worth saying. It couldn’t be that hard, could it?
She was staying at a chain hotel in the city, which seemed like an odd booking for a member of the prestigious clan in Norway. But it was one of the nicer ones, and conveniently located next to several blocks of restaurants and the tube station.