On one shelf, right about eye level, was a carving. A lovingly executed, smooth and glowing piece of wood shaped into a sleeping dragon.
No gnarled beast here, but a gently whimsical portrayal of the mighty beast at rest, scales settled softly against its skin, eyelids closed, nostrils flared as if it snored where it rested on its front claws. The wings were furled down a portion of its back—Pandora held her breath, wondering for an instant if she might hear a tiny snuffling sound.
Tentatively she reached out to stroke the noble head.
“Aha. You find something.”
She jumped. An elderly Chinese woman was observing her from a rocking chair deep in the shadows with what appeared to be a giant cat on her lap.
“Go ahead. Touch. He is for all the senses, not just the eyes.”
“Er, that’s okay. Thank you anyway. He’s very beautiful.”
Buck stood from where he’d been leaning over the woman’s chair. “Old mother, this is my partner Cheney Fisher. And his—er—our friend, Pandora Jackson. We’re here to visit Karl.”
The old woman nodded and Pandora caught a glimpse of her eyes. Pure white orbs stared out from beneath the almond-shaped lids. Not sure if she was blind or not, Pandora opted for courtesy. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. There are some wonderful treasures here.”
“Fire head.”
“Pardon?”
“You have head like fire.” The old woman cackled. “Long man wants to warm himself. Burn his cock in your flames.”
“Uh…” Pandora’s mouth dropped and she risked a glance at Cheney, who was carefully putting down a fan and trying to hide the fact he was blushing. Good. He was as discomfited by that pronouncement as she was. Or perhaps it was the fact that he was surrounded by a plethora of extremely delicate bric-a-brac. For someone with his height, it was probably close to a nightmare.
“Behave, old mother.” Buck scolded gently. “They’re not used to your blunt speaking yet.”
The woman snorted. “And you. You like to talk big man talk. Where my grandbabies? You marry Lian and it good thing. Now you need to do real man work, not just man talk.”
“I’m workin’ on it.”
“Work harder.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Buck chuckled. “I’ll tell Lian you told me to.” He glanced at the other two. “If you guys are done playing, we need to find Karl.”
Biting back a swift and irritated response, and praying the old woman’s words hadn’t made her blush as well, Pandora nodded. “I’m ready.”
“Lead on.” Cheney carefully wove a path between some sort of small coffee table and a large statue. “I’m kinda big for this place anyway.”
“You big for anyplace, long man. You just big.” The old woman favored him with a comprehensive gaze that lingered on his crotch. “But fire head can handle you, no worry.”
Lifting his face to the ceiling, Buck heaved out a dramatic sigh. “Enough already. I won’t bring my friends here if you keep this up.”
She chuckled. “You lie good, Buck. I say what you can’t. I say what Lian can’t. I good for both of you.”
“Yes you are, old devil.” Buck leaned back down and kissed her on the cheek. “Now leave these two alone and behave yourself.”
He beckoned to Pandora and Cheney, reaching to pull aside a tall piece of gloriously embroidered silk. “C’mon. This way.”
Pandora walked behind Cheney, only to have her wrist caught by the old woman as she passed her chair. “When you leave, dragon will go with you.”
“Oh—but I don’t know if I have enough…”
“He gift. You have something special he need. Passion for him. You different than all others. He will be yours and make you happy.”
Pandora paused and for a second wasn’t sure if she was hearing about the dragon—or Cheney.
“You take dragon with you. He will help you. Soon you need him. Very soon.”
The white gaze was fixed on Pandora’s face intently. So she went with her intuition. “Okay. Thank you very much. I’ll take good care of him, always.”
“I know. Go now.”
Tempted to curtsey or bow or something, Pandora simply dipped her head and then followed the men around the curtain and into a long passageway. The old woman could easily have been a flaky senior. But something about her brought the hairs on the back of Pandora’s neck to attention. There was power there, if she wasn’t mistaken.
But what sort of power it was she had no clue. Other than the power to mightily embarrass people. That one she’d got down to a fine art.
Mr. Big Man, indeed. Like a guy needed any more compliments on his masculine equipment. Especially that guy.
For a brief moment, Pandora remembered how it felt to have Cheney’s equipment poised at the threshold of her body. She shivered and firmly pushed it away. This was reality, not a dream.
No matter how enticing that dream might have been.
Cheney quickly found his momentary embarrassment dissipating in favor of curiosity. Buck was leading them along a narrow passageway, then down a winding staircase, ending up in front of a door that would have looked more at home in a government-secured facility than the basement of an oriental art shop.
“Uh, Buck?” He gazed at the flickering high-tech locking mechanism, the likes of which he couldn’t remember seeing outside a sci-fi video.
Buck turned, a sober look on his face. “Lian’s given me permission to share this. I trust you to keep it to yourself, partner. And Ms. Jackson—I know this isn’t covered by attorney-client privilege, but I’d ask you to consider it as such. Please.”
She nodded. “I’m grateful for all your help, Detective. This will remain between us.” She smiled a little. “Perhaps you should call me Pandora at this point. We’ve sort of gone beyond the formalities here.”
He nodded back. “Done.” Then he turned, pushed buttons and rested his palm on the appropriately shaped screen. One more scan, this time of Buck’s retina, and the door swung inward without a sound.
Cheney bit back a whistle as they walked through. He was inside a gleaming modern lab, complete with the prerequisite flashing lights, mysterious units that hummed and a floor clean enough to dine from if one were so inclined. He figured he could probably launch a spaceship or two from here, at least.
Or destroy Mars. He wasn’t sure. But it beat the hell out of the precinct forensics setup.
“Hey, Karl. It’s Buck. You here?”
“Yep.” A voice came from the far end of the room. “Down here by the electron analyzer.”
“Where’s that?”
“The tall silver cylinder with the box next to it and three red lights on top. No wait—make that three green lights. Gotcha, you bastard.”
Cheney, his height an advantage over the other two, pointed. “I think he means that thing?”
They headed toward the whatever-it-was, and he looked for whoever-it-was as they stepped over the occasional cable and connector. A couple of massive screens flickered quietly over workstations, and there was even a hologram cube—empty at this moment—hovering above a square table in the center of the room. And wasn’t that something? He didn’t know it had been perfected yet.
This, mused Cheney, was exactly what a state-of-the-art lab should be. Totally incomprehensible to a layman. He was eager to meet the tech in charge.
“Hey, Buck. Good to see you. Taking a break from screwing my favorite gal silly, huh?”
Cheney looked around. Where the hell was that voice coming from?
“You’re talking about my wife, Karl. Some respect here, huh?”
Cheney looked at Buck. Then looked down to where Buck had bent over and was slapping someone on the shoulder. A small someone.
Karl was a little person. But not just any little person. He was as handsome as any cover model, hair softly tousled, a bit of stubble and twinkling brown eyes presently grinning up at Buck.
Then his gaze fell on Pandora and he licked his lips. “Shit, Buck. You’ve
tapped into my fantasies. A six-foot redhead.” He toddled over to stand in front of her, staring up her body with evident appreciation. “Marry me. Be my plaything for the rest of my life. I’ll promise you multiple orgasms and a fortune to spend. Just fuck me three times a day, maybe four on Sundays, and it can all be yours.”
Obviously at a loss, Pandora blinked. “Um—hi.”
“God she even sounds delicious.” Karl moved nearer and reached around to cup her jean-clad ass, his nose scant inches from her crotch. “I give the best oral sex ever. Wanna see?”
“Thanks, but not right now.” Politely, Pandora shifted away. “I appreciate the thought, though. You must be very popular.”
“Not as much as I’d hoped.” Karl’s gaze fell on Cheney. “Well hot damn. You brought me some real special goodies, Buck.” He grinned wickedly. “This one swing my way maybe? I’m not fussy about who gets the tongue treatment.”
Cheney resisted the urge to cover his genitals and back up about a mile or two. “Buck?” It wasn’t a squawk, but it came damn close.
“Karl, quit putting the moves on my friends. We’ve got some serious stuff to run by you.” Buck’s tone was brisk, and he glanced at Cheney. “Ignore him. He only does it to get attention.”
Karl sighed and shrugged his little shoulders. “What can I say? All work and no play makes me horny. But I guess I can just go jerk off after you’ve gone. Waste though.” He moved to a low chair, plopped down into it then hit a button, bringing himself up to the level of the desk. “Whatcha got for me, dudes and gorgeous dudette?”
“This.” Cheney reached into his pocket and produced the plastic bag containing the mucky dirt he’d scooped off Pandora’s kitchen floor.
“Hmm.” Karl prodded it. “You snort it, slurp it or mainline it?”
“It’s not a drug.” In terse sentences, Cheney filled him in on exactly what had happened, what he’d seen and the messy ending to the whole thing.
Karl listened intently while snapping on latex gloves and removing small amounts to put in various glass vials. “And this was in your kitchen?” He flicked a look at Pandora.
She nodded. “Yes, just as he said. Only I never saw the thing as other than a puppy. An ugly puppy and not a very even-tempered one, but that was it.”
“Describe it again.” Karl bent to his work.
“I can go one step better, I think.” Cheney wondered if he could recreate his trick with Buck and the plate. He tipped his head to a clean bare spot on Karl’s desk. “Look there.”
With a little focus and some intense concentration, he managed to reproduce a pretty good likeness of the creature in its native state.
Beside him, Pandora gasped. “Jesus. No wonder it felt wrong.”
Cheney cursed himself. He’d forgotten she hadn’t seen the real AG version. It wasn’t something he’d intended she know about, but it was too late now.
“Hey. Neat trick.” It was a passing comment from Karl, who was staring fixedly at the image, his mind clearly on what lay in front of him. “This is wrong.” He frowned.
“Tell me about it.” Cheney shuddered. “It was even worse when it exploded.”
“Whaddya think, Karl? Is there enough there to find out anything about it?”
There was silence as Karl put a couple of vials into a small slot and pushed buttons. The screen at the back of the table flickered to life with incomprehensible symbols, charts and figures.
Well, they were incomprehensible to Cheney, anyway. He did allow that they were impressive. But what they meant…
“I got DNA.” Karl sounded satisfied. “That’s a start. I can identify it for you, given a couple of hours.” He looked up. “You gonna wait?”
“Lian’s meeting me here, so yeah, I’ll wait.” Buck nodded. “These two don’t have to, though. No reason to stay unless they really want to watch you do your mad-scientist stuff.”
Cheney laughed. “I think we’ll let the genius here do his thing.”
“I’ll be in touch.” Karl was already bending over a microscope, lost in his work.
“He’ll be like that until he’s figured it out.” Buck walked to Cheney and Pandora. “Go home. Go do whatever. I’ll call you if and when we know anything more.”
Pandora touched Buck’s arm. “You think he can do it? Find out something?”
“If anyone can, he can. The man’s a genius when it comes to this stuff, he’s got resources we can’t even begin to fathom and he saved Lian’s life. There’s nobody else better qualified to work on this mystery, Pandora. Believe me.”
“Hey. Don’t forget I like to suck pussy, babe.” Karl’s voice echoed across his equipment.
Cheney rolled his eyes. “We’re gone.”
“Thank you, Karl,” Pandora called over her shoulder as Cheney urged her to the door. With a little more enthusiasm than he probably needed, but under the circumstances he was ready to get the hell out of there.
“You’re welcome, gorgeous.”
Buck escorted them back out of the lab and into the shop where they were spared any more outrageous comments since the rocking chair was empty of everything but a sleeping cat. There was a neatly wrapped parcel on the counter, however, with a large note leaning against it.
“For Fire Head woman.” Cheney read it aloud. “I guess this is for you, Pandora.” He lifted it and handed it to her.
“Wow. Yes, she said she’d give it to me.” Cradling the package in her arms, Pandora smiled. “I’m so grateful. Buck, will you tell her how happy I am?”
“You betcha.” He opened the front door. “I meant it. I’ll call you as soon as Karl’s got anything definitive. He can do stuff in two hours that our boys would take a week and a half to complete and even then they’d only have a fraction of Karl’s information.”
Cheney nodded his approval. “Can’t argue with that.”
The sun was still shining as they stepped out between the Foo Dogs.
And Buck suddenly froze. “Wait. Stop.”
Cheney saw his partner’s eyes drift out of focus. He knew what was happening—Buck’s cognitive senses had just clicked in. He did as he was told and found himself holding Pandora’s arm to keep her still.
“There’s something out here. Something—watching.”
“Where?” Cheney breathed the word, hoping they looked like friends saying goodbye to each other, not statues as still as the Foo Dogs.
“Across the street. In a car. A red car.”
Casually, Cheney glanced around. Sure enough there was a small red car parked in a space not far from where they stood. There was quite a bit of foot traffic now, pedestrians walking up and down, people shopping and doing ordinary Saturday things.
“I see it.” A parked car would normally attract little or no attention, slotted in as it was amongst all the other parked cars.
But Cheney knew his partner’s talent very well indeed.
Buck was never wrong.
Chapter Eight
“Pandora, here’s what I want you to do.” Cheney spoke softly but with such emphasis she knew it was serious. “Walk to the car, open the door and get in to the passenger seat. Make a big deal out of your package. I want everyone to think we’ve been shopping, okay?”
“Got it.” This was one occasion where doing what she was told seemed like the best idea in the world. If Buck had spotted someone watching them, it was time to let the men take over and do their jobs. They were cops, after all.
She slid into the seat, making sure her parcel was perched clearly on her knees as she did so, and slammed the door.
Just as casually, Buck and Cheney punched each other’s shoulders on the top step of the shop, grinned and parted, Buck going back inside. An observer wouldn’t think a damn thing about it.
Except that Cheney didn’t stop at their car, he kept going across the street, dodging traffic and ending up bending to the driver’s window of a small red sedan.
She could see a woman’s head, but couldn’t hope to hear the convers
ation.
A few long minutes passed, during which she watched his back. Literally. She couldn’t explain it, even to herself, but she could clearly tell that he wasn’t at ease, that this wasn’t a simple ordinary conversation.
Heaven knew how, but she seemed to be able to get a read on this man, something she’d never experienced before with any of her dates.
Not that she was dating Cheney—far from it. One erotic dream did not a boyfriend make. Not in a million years. Even if they’d shared it, which she doubted. Things like that just didn’t happen, even in a world peopled with AGs.
Eventually he straightened away from the red car and retraced his steps, getting in beside Pandora with a thoughtful expression on his face.
“So?” The questions trembled on her lips.
“Wait.” He steered the vehicle through the Saturday crowds, no mean feat given the narrow streets through which they drove. It wasn’t until they hit a wider road that he relaxed. “That was an exercise in futility.”
“Tell me.” She barked out the order, feeling she’d earned an explanation for actually managing to keep her mouth shut all this time.
“Let’s grab some coffee. This place makes the best.” He slipped into a spot in front of a modest shop advertising pastries and a variety of caffeine-enhanced beverages.
Gritting her teeth, she followed him, still clutching the dragon in its cheerful red and gold tissue wrapping paper. For some reason she was not about to leave it anywhere. It was hers now, and that was that.
It was a full five minutes later that she found herself across a small table with a cup of fragrant coffee in front of her. “I can’t stand this. Tell me what the hell’s going on before I explode like that damn critter.”
“Sorry.” He didn’t look apologetic, just thoughtful. “I’m trying to figure a bunch of shit out.” He glanced up. “Sorry again.”
“Cut that out. Just spill it.”
“Okay.” He took a sip of coffee. “The woman in the car wasn’t watching me.”
Demons are a Ghoul's Best Friend: Afterglow, Book 2 Page 7