Arousing a Dragon

by Sarah Sarasota

  “I regret to say that Mr. Hawthorne neglected to make mention of four naked individuals, Miss.”

  “Well, regardless of what he told you, Travers, I still need to see him.”

  “Alas, Miss, the master is not in at this precise moment.”

  “But you just said he came back, didn’t you?”

  “Indeed, Miss, I did. He is in New York, but he is not in residence at the moment.”

  Aurora ran a critical eye over Travers’ benign face. “Are you being honest with me, Travers?”

  “Miss,” Travers said, adroitly sidestepping the question, “I must also tell you that Mr. Hawthorne informed me that your employment has been terminated.”

  A flush of shame caused her to blush. “Did he tell you that he kissed me?” she shot back, a little petulantly.

  Travers sighed and leaned heavily upon his cane. “Miss Laurent, if you are contemplating this path, let me tell you that you would not be the first attractive woman to attempt to extort money from Mr. Hawthorne. There have been a few before you who made the erroneous decision to claim that they were carrying his child. Now,” he said, pre-empting the explosion he saw building, “I don’t believe that you are cut from the same cloth but, all the same, it is my opinion that it would be better if you were to leave peacefully and of your own accord.”

  “Sure,” Aurora said, brightly, “I’ll leave.”

  And she started walking calmly in the direction of the hallway that led around the corner to the guard gate.

  “Miss!” Travers said, limping after her, as fast as his cane would allow. “Miss, I must really insist!”

  Aurora strutted around the corner and into the passageway that led to the barred gate. She slowed, allowing Travers to catch up. The old man was slightly red in the face and looked quite put out at her behavior.

  “Miss Laurent,” he said, “I must confess that I’m disappointed in you.”

  Aurora grimaced.

  If he’s disappointed with that, he’s going to be really upset in a moment!

  Aurora swung her bag sideways and knocked Travers’ cane out from under him. The old man’s eyes went wide and he toppled over. Aurora caught him and lowered him gently to the floor, propping him up against the wall. Her hand darted into the breast pocket of his jacket and retrieved the master key card that she knew nestled there.

  “I’m really sorry about this, Travers,” she said. “I’ll just pop your cane over here.” She tucked the finely-crafted walking stick behind a potted fern and said to the speechless manservant, “Sometimes a girl’s got to do what a girl’s got to do.”

  She hurried off around the corner, leaving Travers to try and regain his footing. She approached the gate with the rushed air of someone on urgent business. She pulled out the key card she had purloined from Travers, as if she did this all the time, but as she went to scan it she dropped it.

  “Allow me,” the guard said, smiling at her.

  “No, no, it’s fine, thank you. I’ve got it,” Aurora said. Her heart seemed to have migrated north and was now thundering away just behind her tonsils. She picked up the card, being sure to cover Travers’ picture with her thumb, swiped it and passed through.

  “Have a good day, Miss Laurent,” the guard said respectfully.

  “You too,” she said, and made her way into the gorgeous courtyard.

  Only when the door snapped closed behind her did she let out a shaky breath. She strode briskly across the pristine white gravel path towards the huge oak front doors with their dragon-shaped handles – handles that had taken on a whole new significance.

  It was only when she stood in front of the doors that she remembered the retinal scanner.

  “Shit.”

  She yanked on the doors, but to no avail. Aurora glared into the glinting glass eye of the dragon as if she could force it to open through the strength of her will.

  Unfortunately, this proved not to be the case.

  She stared up at the square of sky above her, framed between the four skyscrapers, and wondered how long it would be before security arrived and tackled her to the ground.

  Turning away from the door she had decided to sit on the lawn and wait for the inevitable, when she heard the unmistakable clunk of a lock disengaging.

  Aurora turned around slowly. She walked up to the oak door, her head cocked to one side. It was still closed. She gave the door a shove and the portal swung open, revealing the gloomy entrance hall beyond.

  Without pausing to think, Aurora stepped inside the dragon’s lair.

  The golden elevator doors were open, and she was whisked up to the penthouse. She hoped that Finn would be waiting for her.

  However, when she stepped out into the gleaming modernity of the penthouse, no one was waiting to receive her.

  “Hello?” Aurora called, her voice sounding small and flat in the huge space. Above her the glass-bottomed swimming pool was empty, the water rippling slightly with the breeze. “Finn?” she tried again.

  There was no answer; only silence.

  Aurora knew she had to hurry; it wouldn’t take long for Travers to be found. Part of her hoped that the old butler had been assisted by now – the thought of the kind old man on the hard marble floor burned her heart.

  She ran up the beautiful staircase that led to Finn’s living quarters. The carpet was as thick here as it had been on the superyacht and she padded silently down the hall, sticking her head into the doorways she passed. There was a small gymnasium, a couple of large guest bedrooms, and a billiard room with a bar in one corner. She finally arrived at a large study containing a huge claw-footed desk, a couple of vintage leather sofas set on either side of a stone coffee table, and walls lined floor to ceiling with books.

  “Wow,” Aurora whispered, drawn to the study like a moth to a flame. She loved books, had devoured novels as soon as she was able to read. As a young child she had sat for hours listening to her father read all sorts of stories about witches and trolls and fairies hidden under mushrooms.

  She walked along the shelves, running her fingers over the covers, taking in the titles. There were so many old friends here.

  Her index finger paused on a rough green hardback, its title intimately familiar to her. The opening lines of the first paragraph popped into her head unbidden. It was a story of dwarves seeking a lost treasure, a treasure guarded by a dragon. Her father had read it to her again and again, until they had both memorized the contents.

  She hooked her finger into the spine and pulled the book out. Oddly, the novel resisted her. It wouldn’t slide out. Aurora pulled harder. There was a grating sound, as of gears crunching into place. A noise behind her made her turn. She watched in wonder as the circular stone coffee table split into six separate pieces – like a pie that had been perfectly sliced – and pulled back to reveal the entrance to a passageway.

  “What the…?” Aurora whispered. She craned forward cautiously and saw the steps of a staircase that spiralled down and out of sight. It looked roughly made; the exact opposite of the modern penthouse in which she stood.

  “Well,” Aurora said to herself, “in for a penny, in for a pound.” Squaring her narrow shoulders, she started to descend the hidden staircase.

  The passage was narrow and illuminated by a string of bare bulbs. There were no windows and the air was still and dry and warm.

  She emerged suddenly into a large open space, also windowless and illuminated by the same hanging bulbs – although there were more of them and it took a few seconds for her eyes to adjust. She was standing at one end of a long vaulted chamber, lined with huge sandstone blocks. Along one wall hung rows of medieval-looking weapons; crossbows and halberds and spears and long chains with hooks all over them. On the opposite wall were a few enormous skulls that could have been dinosaurs.

  Aurora walked slowly along the chamber, taking in the weapons and the collection of bones, until she came to a heavy wooden door. Pushing through it she found herself in yet another windowless room, smal
l and cosy, decorated with a series of framed photographs. Upon closer inspection she realized they were all black and white reprints of old newspaper photos. One in particular attracted her gaze and caused her to gasp in surprise.

  It was her family farm. In the foreground stood her father, with his arm lovingly wrapped around a woman that was not her mother.

  Aurora’s surprise turned to confusion as she studied the photo. Instead of his customary boots and jeans, her father was dressed in high-waist trousers and a shapeless jacket. He had a pipe in his mouth.

  “Dad didn’t smoke!” she said out loud, her tone equal parts confused and indignant.

  Then she saw the date scrawled in the corner: 1802.

  That does not make any sense.

  “I’m afraid he did smoke,” replied a familiar voice. “Everyone did back then. No one understood the health ramifications. And, in case you were wondering, he was quite enamoured of that woman.”

  Finn stood with his arms folded, casually dressed in chinos and a navy wool sweater.

  “This picture?” Aurora stuttered.

  “That, as you so astutely realize, is your father. The woman next to him is his wife.”

  “That’s not my mother.”

  “No,” he said. “That is his first wife – and his mate – Florence.”

  “But the date,” she said. “This was taken over two-hundred years ago…”

  “Yes,” Finn replied, a sad smile on his face.

  Aurora was speechless. It just didn’t add up.

  “Florence was, as I said, your father’s first wife, but she was also more than that. He paired with Florence – a lifelong bond, you understand – but she died. He never got over that, though, of course, he married again. Much later. He loved your mother – gave her all of the heart that he had left after Florence’s death. You though; he loved you as absolutely as a father could.”

  Aurora shook her head. “This doesn’t make any sense, Finn!” she said, loudly. “I don’t understand. Are you telling me that my father was some ancient guy with a wife before my mom? And what’s the connection with all this dungeons and dragons shit?” She gestured back toward the stone chamber.

  “And another thing: Why did you have that password set to ‘gumball’? Are you stalking my family or something?”

  Finn took a tentative step toward her, gazing intently into her eyes.

  “I set the passcode to ‘gumball’ because I didn’t want you to forget it. Whenever your father talked about you, which was often, he’d refer to you as his ‘little gumball’.”

  “Stop it!” Aurora yelled. “Stop whatever fucked up game you’re playing here! This is crazy!” She strode angrily toward Finn, who was keeping his distance, and shoved him hard in the chest. “You’ve made me question my own goddamn sanity it in the space of a month! What’s your game?” She shoved him again.

  “I’m sorry that I haven’t been transparent about my intentions toward you, Aurora.” He reached for her hand.

  Aurora jerked her hand away. “Oh, you’ve been transparent,” she said, “but not in a way that anyone would suspect. Transparent means that you can see through something, right? But if something is truly transparent, it’s doubtful that you’d be able to see it at all. Those were your intentions toward me; to make sure I didn’t see a thing!”

  She walked back to the picture of her dad, glared at it and then turned back to the handsome billionaire standing mute before her. “But I know what I saw!” she yelled. “I saw you get hit by a fucking fireball! You should be dead. You should be ash. And me too, probably.”

  “Yet here we stand,” Finn said.

  “Yeah. Here we stand,” Aurora said. “Now, tell me, what the hell are you? And what has my father got to do with any of this?”

  Finn took a deep breath.

  “Okay, here it is. Your father - and I – are members of an ancient race that has lived amongst humans since before modern records began. A race so old that its very existence has been twisted and embellished into some of the most famous legends in history.”

  “After Florence, his mate and first wife, died during a measles outbreak, your father went mad with grief. He reduced great parts of New York and Pennsylvania to ashes. Then he fled from the Council that upholds our laws and makes sure that none of us use our powers for anything nefarious, and he went into hiding.”

  Finn took Aurora by the shoulders and fixed her with those curious brown and gold eyes of his.

  “It took them over two-hundred years to track him down. Even for beings as wise as those in the Council, the idea that your father would return to the farm that he occupied with Florence and live there again never entered their minds. Until the night your barn went up in flames.”

  “That was them?” Aurora asked. “That was this Council you keep talking about?”

  “Yes,” Finn said. “They came for your father, laid an ambush for him and then smuggled him away. They used the barn fire to cover his disappearance.”

  “Wait, so he’s alive?” Aurora asked, hope kindling within her.

  Finn shook his head sadly. “No. He was when they took him, but not now. The Council caged him deep underground and drugged him. I was granted permission to visit. Many times. Every time I went to see him he would always ask after your mother and his little gumball.”

  “How did he die, then?” Aurora asked. She could feel hot tears welling up in the back of her throat.

  “He just gave up on life, I think,” Finn said. “The anguish of losing his mate and then being forcibly separated from you… It’s no wonder that he lost the will to live.”

  “And this Council,” Aurora said, her tears evaporating in the face of the burning anger that suddenly consumed her. “Is that who showed up on your yacht?”

  “A handful of them, yes.”

  Aurora nodded. “And these fires springing up all over the place – Australia, South America, Central Park – are you responsible for them?”

  Finn nodded, guilty. “They’re not random. We just – I can’t control…” His voice faded. He seemed unable to articulate his thoughts.

  “So, that’s why you hired me?” Aurora asked, more to herself than Finn. “That’s why you had me lock you in the vault every night?”

  Finn nodded. “For whatever reason, between the hours of sunset and sunrise, I’ve been suffering from…episodes. I’m unable to curb the inclination to change.”

  Aurora raised a finger as if to trap a point that had just occurred to her. “Was it coincidence that you hired me?” she asked.

  He gave her a searching look. “I told your father that I would keep an eye on you,” he said. “I knew you weren’t happy here in New York. So, when I saw the opportunity to kill two birds with one stone – solve your financial issues while making sure that I had someone to lock me in at night – I made things happen.”

  At that moment, his cell started to ring. Aurora jumped. It was a weird juxtaposition, standing in an ancient stone chamber lined with barbaric weapons, but still with access to modern technology.

  “Travers,” Finn spoke into the phone. He listened intently. Aurora was able to make out the muffled voice of the butler at the other end of the line. As Travers spoke, Finn gently guided her back the way they had come, through the long vaulted chamber and onto the spiral staircase.

  “Yes…yes… Did she? Well, at least she put it in the potted plant and didn’t bury it in the rose garden. And you’re alright? Excellent.”

  Aurora tried to follow the conversation but couldn’t hear Travers clearly. Then Finn said, “Is that right? And he said he was her…? Right. Well, yes, I suppose you should show him up. We’ll meet you in the penthouse momentarily. Alright. My thanks, Travers.”

  Turning to her he said, “Travers is coming up with someone you know.”

  They made their way downstairs into the main lounge area of the penthouse.

  “Finn,” Aurora said suddenly, as the two of them waited for the elevator to arrive.
>
  “Yes?”

  “So, you’re an actual…”

  Finn grabbed her hand and held it to his chest. “My heart beats just like yours. I get jealous and hungry and sad and lonely just like you do. But there’s another side to me that –”

  “Flies?” Aurora said.

  He grinned. “I was going to say is driven by a primal urge that has guided our people for centuries.”

  Aurora put her fingertips to Hawthorne’s face, tracing the lines of the strong jaw. “Those pictures,” she said, “how old does that make you, if you knew my father all the way back then?”

  Hawthorne opened his mouth to reply as the elevator doors slid open.

  “Aurora!”

  “Ryker!” she breathed. “What’re you doing here?”

  Ryker Swanson bowled straight up to her, totally unimpressed by the penthouse.

  “Some old guy with a cane let me up,” he said. “Harper told me that you’d be here.”

  “That’s right,” Aurora said, too taken aback to come up with a clever lie. “I came over to see Mr. Hawthorne.” She gestured to where Finn stood at a respectful distance.

  “Pleasure to meet you,” Ryker said, with a guileless country-boy smile at Hawthorne. Then he turned back to her.

  “Look, I’ll be straight up, Aurora. I was about to head back to Nebraska, but I couldn’t stop thinking about our kiss the other night.”

  Aurora took half a glance behind her. Finn was still standing there, his hands in his pockets and his chin resting on his chest.

  Ryker grabbed her by the shoulders so that her whole attention was focused on him. “Aurora, I don’t want to leave without you.”

  To Aurora’s astonishment, Ryker got down on one knee.

  “Marry me, Aurora!” Ryker said, his face shining with enthusiasm. “I mean it. Let’s make this happen. You’re my soul mate. You always have been, ever since that first day at school. I can’t give you this kind of wealth,” he said, gesturing around the penthouse, “but I can provide for you.”

  There was a soft sound behind Aurora, like a door closing ever so gently.