Of Dawn and Embers Page 2

  "In theory? Yeah, I guess so. She imprinted on us at birth, and dragons' senses are sharp as hell. Even though we're indoors, we've lived here for a good while, so our scent's on everything around here by now. Still, this is insane."

  Kamala smiled a bit. “Yes. But in spite of it all, I...missed her."

  Jack rubbed the bumpy scales over Pete's right eye and listened to her purr. “Yeah. Me too, Kam."

  The doorbell rang.

  Jack shut his eyes. “And here comes trouble."

  "I'll stay with her," Kamala said. “Make sure they show you a bloody warrant first."

  Jack shuffled back to the door, snorting. “Like that'll matter."

  He shut the garage door, grabbed his coffee from the dining room table, and then opened the front door.

  "Morning, assholes!" Jack said brightly. “What would you like to steal from us this time?"

  Two men stood on Jack's welcome mat. The one on the left was tall, sturdy, and had brunette hair and deep frown lines with a no nonsense expression on his face. He wore sunglasses, a black suit, black tie, a white dress shirt, and polished shoes. The one on the right was slightly shorter, pudgy, and had curly brown hair and a beard. He wore a lab coat over a stained Firefly t-shirt, khakis, and sneakers.

  "Climb down off that cross, Dr. Jackson," the man on the left said, folding his sunglasses and tucking them in the pocket of his suit.

  Jack stared at him and then pointedly tilted the mug enough to spill coffee on the man in black's shoes. “Oops. Clumsy me."

  The man sighed laboriously and shook his feet. “So infantile. You know why we're here. Where is it?"

  "What?" Jack asked innocently. “Oh, your hairline? I think it's on the back of your head."

  "The dragon," the man snarled. “Where is the dragon?"

  Jack leaned against the doorjamb and purposely slurped his coffee before answering. “Oh, I'm sorry. Have you lost one of our dragons? What a pity. It's almost like you two chuckleheads and the rest of your department have no idea what you're doing."

  "It wasn't my fault," the pudgy man insisted. “The handler was careless."

  Jack glanced at him. “You're really not helping your case here, buddy."

  "Dr. Jackson," the man on the left said through his teeth. “Where. Is. The. Dragon?"

  Jack leaned in, pronouncing every word slowly. “Up. Your. Ass."

  The man stared at him with his dead brown eyes for a long moment before smirking. “You know, if you weren't so high-handed and pretentious, I'd probably like you. Fine. We'll do this by the book."

  He reached into his suit jacket and withdrew a document, slapping it against Jack's chest. “Here's the warrant you're about to ask for. Not that it matters."

  He jabbed a thumb at the man beside him. “Dr. Whitmore's got the tracker to prove the asset is within these premises. So scurry along and go get it before I call local P.D. to kick the door down."

  Jack scowled and flipped the document open, again slurping his coffee obnoxiously loud and reading it as slowly as possible. “Well, seems everything's in order here. If you'll excuse me, I'll see what I can do about facilitating the evidence of your complete and utter ineptitude."

  "It wasn't my fault!" Dr. Whitmore whined, but by then, Jack had slammed the door in both their faces.

  Jack returned to the garage and handed Kamala the letter. She growled and crumpled it in her small fist. “Four hours. She's been missing for four hours according to this nonsense. They couldn't pour piss out of a boot if the instructions were on the heel."

  "Agreed," Jack said. “But this is a fight we can't win right now. Maybe we can use it later, but we have to turn her over to them."

  "Bastards," she spat.

  "Hey," Jack said gently, kissing her temple. “Stress levels, remember?"

  She exhaled, rubbing the top of her swollen stomach. “Right. Pete won't go willingly. Find out if they have a tranquilizer first. I'll administer it so she doesn't get upset."

  "Will do angel."

  Jack opened the front door again. “Agent Shannon, I assume you have something that can subdue the dragon."

  "Yes," he said. “What about it?"

  "Mind handing it over? I'm pretty sure she'll rip your face off if she sees you coming at her with one."

  Agent Shannon lifted a thick eyebrow. “You want me to hand you a tranquilizer gun? So you can knock me out, take the asset, and run?"

  Jack rolled his eyes. “Actually, I don't want your big, ugly body on my driveway. You'll scare my neighbors and cause the property value to plummet."

  Agent Shannon sucked his teeth and glanced at Dr. Whitmore. “Doc?"

  "He's right. The dragon is, uh, rather averse to your presence. It imprinted on the two of them and should allow them to inject it."

  The government agent gave Jack a long stare before walking over to the large unmarked truck with a long, metal trailer attached. He unlocked it and pulled out a silver briefcase. He popped it open and withdrew a tranquilizer gun.

  "Any funny business," Agent Shannon said, slapping it into Jack's hand. “I take you down."

  Jack smiled. “Yeah, because that worked so well last time."

  Agent Shannon sneered. “It was a cheap shot, Jackson. Want to try me again, when I'm paying attention?"

  "No, I think I'll just let you live with the shame of knowing a civilian put you on your ass." Jack slammed the door shut a second time and headed into the garage.

  Kamala took the tranquilizer gun and gave it a detailed once over, checking that the dosage looked correct and would subdue the dragon. She sighed and pressed her forehead to the dragon's, her voice slightly hoarse. “I am so sorry, meri priya. We will save you. I swear it."

  She injected the sedative. The dragon flinched slightly when the tiny needle pierced her skin. The effect was almost immediate. Pete swayed and Jack caught her upper body, lowering her to the ground as gently as he could. A thin green film slid down over her golden eyes and she fell asleep in minutes. She even snored, which they both thought was cute.

  Jack heaved another sigh and walked over to the garage door. He hit the switch and the door rumbled and roared as it slid up from the ground. Agent Shannon and Larry were already standing there with an altered version of a hand truck. It was collapsible and about eight feet long and a couple feet wide. Agent Shannon smiled as he spotted Kamala.

  "Dr. Anjali," he said politely. “Don't you look radiant."

  "Don't you look smug and unintelligent." she replied, and swept back inside the house without another word. He chuckled and helped the chubby scientist load the dragon onto the carrier. They wheeled her up into the trailer and locked it shut. Dr. Whitmore got inside the truck and Agent Shannon slid his aviator sunglasses back onto his face.

  "Thank you for your cooperation, Dr. Jackson."

  Jack smiled again. “I hope you step on a Lego. Barefoot."

  Agent Shannon bared his teeth in a grin and climbed inside the truck. He backed out of the driveway slowly and then pulled off into the street. Jack spat the sour taste in his mouth out into the bushes and returned inside.

  Kamala stood in the kitchen, furiously stirring her chamomile tea. “This is unacceptable."

  "Yep," Jack agreed, pouring the remainder of his coffee down the drain.

  "Who do they think they are? They lose our dragon -- they risk her life with their idiotic inability to comprehend her abilities -- and then demand that we return her to them without any consequences whatsoever? I have never heard of anything so ridiculous in my life."

  "Yep," Jack agreed, rinsing out the mug.

  "What if someone had gotten hurt, eh? What if some gun-toting moron with a twitchy trigger finger spotted her before she came to us? She could be gone, just like that, taken from this world through no fault of her own."

  Jack stepped up behind her and slid his arms around her shoulders. Kamala'
s stiff spine slowly relaxed against his chest. Her eyes drifted closed, as he ran his large hand over her belly in soothing circles. He kissed her ear, his voice low and soft. “I know. But, we're not going to let them get away with this. We're going to give them hell. We're not going to give up on the fight until our dragons are back where they belong, safe and sound."

  She shook her head slightly. “You always know just what to say."

  "Hardly," he said. “You were stirring that tea pretty hard, Dr. Anjali. I just didn't want you to break my favorite mug."

  Kamala turned in his arms. “Yes, we both know you're terrified of my superhuman maternal powers. I'll try not to scare you so much."

  "You kidding me?" he said, lacing his fingers over the small of her back. “I'm counting on them to save us someday. You should be wearing a cape instead of stretch pants."

  She sighed. “Oh, don't bloody remind me. I went up another size this week. I need to get this blasted child out of me before I become a manatee."

  Jack choked on a laugh. “Stop it. You're gorgeous no matter what size you are."

  She pursed her lips. “Don't try to get back on my good side, Dr. Jackson. Remember, it's all your fault that I'm like this."

  "Oh, lest we forget. The rug rat was conceived the first time we, uh, fondued, and I believe you were the one who initiated that."

  Kamala blushed. “Point taken."

  She pressed her forehead against his and sighed. “This sucks."

  "Yes," he said softly. “It does. But you know what doesn't suck?"

  She glanced up at him. “What?"

  Jack leaned in and kissed her gently between words.

  "Slow..." Smooch.

  "Heartfelt..." Smooch.

  "Intimate..." Smooch.

  "...oral sex."

  Kamala collapsed into stunned giggles. “You are an idiot, Dr. Jackson."

  "What? I mean, am I wrong?"

  Her smile turned a bit wicked. “Not in the slightest. It would be an excellent distraction from the chaotic morning we both just had."

  She eagerly gripped his hand ready to drag him into their bedroom, but then her cell phone rang. She sighed and answered it with a brisk, dismissive tone. “Yes?"

  "Kam," Faye Worthington's resigned, annoyed voice said. “I'm in jail."

  Jack and Kamala had gotten rather familiar with the Cambridge Police Department over the past year. It had all started when nearly eight months ago, yakuza lieutenant Kazuma Okegawa stole their dragon and murdered Detective Colin Stubbs on his way back to Tokyo. The case had escalated to the FBI as well as the CIA. After their yakuza-funded rival scientist Dr. Yagami Sugimoto cloned the world's deadliest dragon, Baba Yaga, who escaped and tore through the streets of Tokyo, killing over twenty people, Jack and Kamala had returned to Japan to capture the dragon. They were successful, but Baba Yaga's reign of terror caused the U.S. government to issue a cease and desist on all dragon cloning, closed down their grant, and took custody of all the dragons they had cloned. Jack and Kamala did everything they could to fight the order, but as of right now, the government refused to budge. Their entire lives' work shutdown, packed away in some shady government lab of unknown location.

  They had also become acquainted with the Cambridge Police Department on account of Faye Worthington. Six months ago, Aisaka Tomoda, Okegawa's second-in-command, ordered her abduction while Jack and Kamala were en route to capture Baba Yaga. They later found out Aisaka had no intention of ever ordering Faye's release, but rather intended for the hitman to torture and kill her as revenge for Jack and Kamala putting Okegawa in a coma. Faye had been clever enough to escape her captor, but he escaped from police custody and issued her a challenge. That he would be back one day to settle their account. Faye spent the next six months working with the pair of detectives who had rescued her trying to find any links to his whereabouts, but after months of grueling investigation, they'd hit a dead end after dead end.

  Unfortunately, Faye decided to take matters into her own hands.

  Jack and Kamala signed in at the front desk and filled out the appropriate paperwork before heading into the bullpen. They knew exactly where to go, walking over to two desks facing each other near the middle of the room. A large black cop with a bit of grey at his temple and in his goatee glanced up as they approached and offered a weary sigh.

  "Doctors," Detective Ernie Houston said politely.

  "Detective Houston," Kamala said, nodding to him. “What has she done this time?"

  Houston sighed. “They caught her breaking and entering into a property that she claims is one of the safe houses that Winston the hitman might have used while he was in town."

  Jack rubbed his sinuses. “Great. Just great."

  "Tell me about it," Houston agreed. “The woman's like the Terminator of being impulsive and not listening to reason. I assume you bailed her out?"

  "Yes," Kamala said. “They said they just buzzed her out of holding. Have you had a chance to verbally chastise her yet?"

  Houston nodded. “Oh, I laid into her when they brought her in, trust me. Please, have at it. Maybe you'll have better luck."

  A moment later, a tall, statuesque blonde woman came around the corner with a uniformed officer at her heels. She wore a black sweater, blue jeans, and boots. Her golden hair pulled back in a ponytail at her nape. A few heads in the bullpen turned to watch her walk past, that was nothing new. She was stunning, even in such casual clothing.

  Faye walked up to the pair of scientists with her hands up in a placating gesture. “Look, I can explain--"

  "Explain what?" Kamala snapped. “How I just had to spend money, I could be saving for my child, on bailing you out of jail, Faye?"

  Faye winced. “Jesus Christ. Not pulling our punches today, are we?"

  "Save it. You're lucky I even bothered showing up at all. I wanted to leave you in there for twenty-four hours and let you stew in your own juices with the rest of these criminals. Do you have any idea what you’ve put us through? Any idea at all?"

  Faye scowled. “Look, it was a solid lead and the higher ups wouldn't give Houston and Carmichael clearance to check it out. If I had found something, I might have been able to convince them to--"

  Kamala stepped closer. Faye was a full five inches taller than her girlfriend, but she still flinched regardless. “Are you a police officer, Faye?"

  The blonde worked her jaw. “No."

  "No. You are not. You are a civilian. You may be smart as a whip and a hell of a fighter, but it is not your job to risk your life obtaining this kind of evidence. The criminal justice system is in place for a reason--your protection. If I ever catch you doing something this reckless again, I will leave you to rot. Do you understand me?"

  Faye's shoulders slumped a bit. She glanced obliquely at Jack, hoping for sympathy, but he had the same stony, frustrated expression as Kamala. Faye exhaled and nodded. “Alright, fine. I get it. I was out of line. I'm sorry."

  She glanced at Houston. “You too. Sorry if I got you in trouble."

  Houston crossed his arms and smirked. “Oh, no need to apologize. Just getting to witness the little missus issue a verbal beatdown is payment enough for what you put me through."

  Faye rolled her eyes. “Thanks, Houston. Did you get the photos I sent?"

  The detective shook his head in disbelief. “Yes. I'll go through them and see if anything is the kind of proof we need. Now go home, you hard headed woman."

  She flashed him a tired smile before facing Kamala again. “Really, Kam. I'm sorry. I swear, I didn't mean to upset you, either of you."

  Kamala stared her down for another moment and then nodded. “Apology accepted."

  She gripped her hand. “Now then, are you alright?"

  "Yeah, I just got busted on the way out by the neighbors. The uni who caught me was nice enough and I didn't resist arrest or anything."

  Jack arched an ey
ebrow. “That's what happens when blonde supermodels sneak into drug dens looking for murderers. People kind of notice."

  "Everyone's a critic," Faye grumbled. “I'm fine, alright. Just hungry."

  She rubbed Kamala's tummy, kissed her lips, then Jack's, and walked ahead of them. Houston snorted and shook his head again. “Boy, I'm still not used to that. You millennials and your polyamory."

  Jack laughed shortly. “Yeah, chalk that up to the whole generation, why don't you?"

  Houston shrugged. “Hey, I'm a baby boomer. We get off on blaming you guys for everything."

  Jack chuckled and shook his hand. “Right. Later, detective."

  Kamala waved as well and the three of them headed back to Jack's Mazda. They grabbed Faye some drive thru on the way back to the house.

  "So, what'd I miss?" she asked through a mouthful of Croissanwich.

  "Oh, nothing much," Jack said casually. “Pete showed up in our backyard."

  Faye wheezed in the middle of sipping her coffee. “What?"

  "Yep. Sounds like she busted out mid-transit of wherever she was going and she somehow flew all the way here to find us. But Heckle and Jeckle were right behind her."

  Faye frowned. “Oh, you mean those dickheads Agent Shannon and Lackey Larry?"

  "The very same."

  "Shit. Well, this has got to be better ammo for the appeal, right?"

  "Yeah, but you know the good ole gubment," Jack said bitterly. “They'll make up an excuse."

  "True. That's all they run on, after all. Did she at least seem healthy?"

  "For the most part, just seemed like she missed us. Feeling was mutual."

  He glanced at her in the rearview mirror. “What did you find at the safehouse?"

  "Not a lot, but word is that Winston was on an assignment in town recently. Based on what I've heard, hitmen often rent properties that drug runners own and just pay them to stay, like an illegal hotel business. As long as they're quiet and discreet, it doesn't bug the drug dealers any for them to stay there until the job is done. Plus, it's good money for them. The place had a similar set up to the one he took me to, so I think chances are good he's been there recently."