Of Blood and Ashes Page 2

  The feed abruptly cut there. The American anchorwoman returned, flustered and shaken, as she told everyone that they lost the signal.

  “Gods,” Kamala whispered, bringing her hands up to her mouth.

  “They have no idea what they’re up against,” Jack said, his mouth dry and his eyes wide. “We have to help them however we can.”

  “However they’ll let us,” Matt said grimly. “You know where this is going to head, Jack. They’ll try to blame you for this, even if it’s not directly your fault.”

  “Let them. I didn’t start this project to be an international hero. We can’t let this happen. It’ll start the dragon hunting wars all over again. What should we do?”

  Matt massaged his sinuses. “We need to draft an official statement to let them know that we don’t condone the illegal experimentation on dragons and that we aren’t in any way connected to the resurrection of Baba Yaga. We will then meet with the authorities and see if we can offer some kind of consultation if they don’t catch her tonight, or within the next twenty-four hours. That’s all we can do.”

  “What about the embassy?” Kamala asked. “They’ve been keeping tabs on the yakuza since we rescued Pete last month. Wouldn’t they be willing to hear us out?”

  “It depends. What was the last story you heard from the feds related to the investigation?”

  “They’re building case files, nothing more. The real work is being done by the Criminal Investigation Bureau of the Tokyo Metropolitan police department. All of the known associates of Kazuma Okegawa and Dr. Yagami Sugimoto have been imprisoned, but there are too many members of the Inagawa-kai and Yamaguchi-gumi who are in on the scheme of illegally cloning the dragons. Still, this sounds like the work of the Sugimotos. They’re the only ones with technology to have produced Baba Yaga in only a month of acquiring our methodology.”

  “That’s what I’m having trouble with,” Jack said, rubbing his face haggardly. “How the hell is she adult-sized? I checked the math. Baba Yaga was alive during the Triassic period, with just a few of her descendants that survived the asteroid that killed the dinosaurs. Most of the prevailing theories about her run parallel to that of a Tyrannosaurus Rex, and they didn’t mature to their maximum size until the age of ten years or older. If we assume that she’s between a few weeks and a month old, she should only be the size of a rat. What the hell happened? She can’t have had the same genetic mutation that made Pete the size of a horse in just a week. That’s impossible.”

  “Agreed,” Kamala said. “Something rotten is going on. I don’t think it had to do with the data they blackmailed out of us. I think we’ve uncovered some kind of conspiracy. Even if they catch Baba Yaga, that won’t be the end of it. There is bound to be more to it than just her.”

  “Alright,” Matt said. “Kam, I need you to help me write this statement for the news. Jack, I need you to get on the phone with your contacts in the embassy to see if we can extend an olive branch. Bianca, can you keep an eye on the news while we work?”

  “Of course.”

  He kissed her cheek. “Thanks, babe.”

  He scooped up the laptop and headed towards the dining room with Kamala while Jack stood and started pacing in the foyer as he searched through his phone for the right number. He’d just found it when his phone rang and the image of a brown-haired, hazel-eyed woman in her early fifties appeared. Jack winced and answered the call.

  “Hey, Ma.”

  “Oh God, Rhett,” Edith Jackson said, sounding near tears. “Baby, are you okay?”

  “I’m alright,” he said softly. “Calm down.”

  She sniffled. “I know you’re safe, but you saw that news report, right?”

  “Yeah.”

  "God-above, what happened? How did they bring that monster to life? Is it the people who stole your research?”

  “More than likely.”

  “Dammit. You know as well as I do what’s about to happen.”

  “It’s not like I didn’t see it coming, Ma. Remember the Green Goblin in the first Spider-Man movie? I think he said something about the only thing that people love more than a hero is to see their hero fall from grace. They’ll have a field day with it in the media, but I can handle it. I never cared about my reputation to begin with. I’ve only cared about studying and preserving these animals for the benefit of mankind. No one said mankind was reasonable.”

  “I know. It’s just that…God, you’ve been through so much already and now this. I can’t believe it.”

  “Well, I remember a certain woman raised me to be strong, so I think I’ll be okay in the meantime. I’ve got a lot of work to do, but stay near your phone in the morning. I’ll give you and Dad an update as soon as I can.”

  “Okay, honey. Be safe. I love you so much.”

  “I love you too.”

  ***

  “Ladies and gentlemen, Dr. Anjali and I are deeply saddened and shocked by the tragedy that occurred in Tokyo tonight. We join everyone in mourning the loss of innocent lives and the sacrifices made by the brave souls of the Tokyo police department. We would also like to make it perfectly clear that the Massachusetts Institute of Technology had nothing to do with the illegal replication and resurrection of seraphim tenebris, or more commonly known as the dragon Baba Yaga. Any experimentation that resulted from the fellowship project headed by our department at MIT is not sanctioned or considered acceptable by the law, and those responsible for this willful corruption of our project will be pursued by the authorities. We have offered full cooperation to Tokyo in order to see to it that this animal is captured and to ensure that no other lives will be lost as a result of her escape.”

  Jack took a deep breath. “We will now answer just a few questions, but keep in mind that we are pressed for time as we try to resolve this matter as quickly as possible.”

  The press swarmed forward along the steps to the MIT School of Science. Jack and Kamala stood beneath the massive pillars in the cold night air, both attempting to appear passive despite the multitude of microphones shoved in their faces and the bright lights from the local news cameras.

  “Do these attacks at all change your mind about your project?”

  “No. The purpose of this project is to educate and explore the unknown data related to dragons and their importance in relation to the preservation of endangered species. Whoever did this was careless and reckless with technology they likely stole from us in order to produce the dragon without any controls or measures to ensure the safety of the people of Tokyo.”

  “Do you accept the responsibility that your project indirectly caused this incident?”

  Jack clenched his jaw for a second before answering. “Do people ask Smith and Wesson to accept the responsibility of the thousands of people killed by guns every year? You’re being fast and loose with your logic there.”

  Kamala gently rested her hand on the inside of his left wrist. He let the tension flow out of his rigid spine and settled his expression into blankness again.

  “Dr. Jackson, a month ago the two of you traveled to Tokyo to rescue your own dragon. Will you do the same to track this dragon if the authorities are unable to catch it?”

  “That is not up to us. We will cooperate however they decide to go forward from here. After all, while Dr. Anjali and I have a broad knowledge about the thirty-seven known species of dragon, we aren’t experts in the field of dracology. I have a minor in the subject, but there are certainly more qualified minds than my own to assist in the capture of Baba Yaga.”

  “To that end, what would you suggest the authorities do to catch her?”

  Jack paused and glanced at Kamala. She stepped forward, clearing her throat. “In our opinion, the key to an efficient capture of the dragon would lie in studying what we know of her species. Animals can be unpredictable when we know nothing about them, but there are a lot of solid theories about Baba Yaga that can prove useful to capturing h
er. For instance, knowing her behavior and her physiology might help narrow down where she will head next, now that she’s apparently left the city limits. Therefore, we urge the authorities to seek out the top minds in the world related to the field of dracology to narrow down how and where we can strike to end this incident without further loss of life.”

  “Dr. Anjali, as a conservationist, do you think the authorities should attempt to take the dragon alive, or should it be destroyed?”

  Jack’s fingers curled around her hand. He squeezed it slightly and nodded towards the side, silently urging her to avoid the question and leave with him. She bit her bottom lip and felt her heart hammering in her throat as the silence grew.

  “Nature is not inherently evil,” she said finally. “It can be violent, but it is not of ill-intent. I would prefer if Baba Yaga were captured alive so that she can be appreciated for the powerful creature that she is and so that we may be humbled by nature as we were centuries ago when these animals still walked the earth.”

  The press exploded with more questions, but Jack held out his other hand, raising his baritone voice amongst the rabble. “No further questions.”

  He led her by the hand back down the steps through the crowd and out towards the parking lot, ignoring the flock of cameras and reporters in their wake.

  ***

  Benjamin Apartments was one of the nicer places to live in the Cambridge area, but it didn’t look particularly friendly as Jack and Kamala pulled up to her building. There were already members of the press hovering near the curb, though curiously they were drenched in what appeared to be water. It was odd, considering it wasn’t raining. Jack wrapped his arm around Kamala and used his six-foot-two-inch frame to bully through them as she withdrew her keys and let them in.

  Jack pushed the front door shut and toed off his Cole Haans, raising an eyebrow as he noticed a bright blue bucket of water next to the door. “Do I even wanna know?”

  “Of course you do,” a velvety female voice called from the kitchen to his right. “If those bastards want to intrude, they can do so soaking wet and freezing their nosy asses off.”

  Jack smiled and shook his head as he stepped through the short hallway and into the open archway of the kitchen. It had split counters, a pantry straight ahead, with the stove to the right, and in front of it stood a tall, blonde woman currently making three margaritas.

  In Jack’s mind, Faye Worthington looked like she belonged on the cover of Elle magazine: perfect legs that stretched for miles, sloping curves like the Andes mountains, periwinkle blue eyes, silky natural blonde hair, and perfect pink lips. She also had an IQ of 140, could reprogram a personal computer, and threw a mean left hook.

  Faye dusted sugar from her fingers and pulled Kamala into a long, comforting hug. The shorter girl melted into it without resistance and let go after a while with a sigh. “Are those for us?”

  “Yep,” Faye said, dropping a lime slice into each glass. “I figured you could use one after the night you just had.”

  Her blue eyes fell across Jack and she smirked slightly, nodding to him. “How’s it hanging, Stilts?”

  “Awful and always to the left,” he said smoothly, scooping up a margarita and draining half of it in one go as she laughed.

  “At least you’re being honest for once. I saw the press meeting. Brutal. That’s why I had no problem dousing those hyenas on our front porch all evening. Pricks.”

  Jack shrugged. “It’s their job. No such thing as privacy in this society.”

  “Or fair representation,” Faye said, sipping her own margarita. “Fox News is already painting Kamala as a ‘heartless traitor’ for saying they should try to take Baba Yaga alive.”

  “Big shocker there,” Kamala said, fishing a Red Delicious apple out of the fridge. “I’m sure that’s not a biased opinion at all.”

  “Right?” Faye frowned at her roommate. “What? No drink?”

  Kamala shot a panicked look over at Jack, who jumped in immediately. “She had one at Matt’s place. Better not overdo it since we’ve got to get up early tomorrow.”

  “Ah.” Faye shrugged. “More for me, then.”

  Kamala suppressed the urge to sigh in relief. “On that note, we should get to bed. That way I have an excuse to avoid my parents telling me ‘I told you so’ until tomorrow. I think my father will probably fly here from Columbia University just to say it to my face.”

  Faye patted her shoulder. “Don’t worry. I’ll have a bucket waiting for him too.”

  Kamala laughed. “Thanks, saheli. You’re the best.”

  She got up on her tiptoes and kissed Jack. “Don’t stay up much longer, you great useless pagal.”

  He winked. “Wouldn’t dream of it, angel.”

  She headed around the corner to her bedroom. Jack rummaged through the fridge for some leftover Pinocchio’s pizza. Faye leaned against the opposite counter watching him and polishing off her margarita.

  “How are you holding up, Stilts?”

  He shut the fridge door and found a paper plate, sliding a slice of tomato-basil pizza into the microwave. “Probably best if I don’t talk about it.”

  “Why’s that?”

  “It’ll ruin your opinion of me if I curl up into the fetal position and sob for several hours.”

  Faye snorted. “That bad, huh?”

  Jack shook his head as he watched the microwave plate slowly rotate. “Worse. I’ve been keeping it together for Kam’s sake, but I’m not in a good place right now. I might need something stronger than a margarita to get any sleep tonight.”

  “No worries.” She opened the pantry and squatted, returning with a long glass bottle with a black label and gold font. She handed it to him and he gave it an appraising look.

  “Johnnie Walker black label? Holy shit, Faye. These go for fifty bucks a pop.”

  She shrugged. “Guilt present from my mom for missing my birthday. Just don’t go HAM on it, alright? I’m saving it for my own rainy day.”

  He regarded her warily. “This is disturbingly nice of you. What’s the catch?”

  Faye grinned toothily. “Why, Jack, I’m offended. Why would you immediately assume that there is a catch?”

  Jack rolled his eyes. “Spill it already, blondie.”

  “I have a dumb get-together tomorrow night that I need an escort to.”

  “I don’t get it,” he said, getting two whiskey glasses out of the cupboard. “Why can’t you ask one of your usual Man Candy victims to take you?”

  “None of them are of the right pedigree,” Faye sniffed, watching him pour the amber liquid. “I need someone who can fake being a gentleman for about an hour. None of them could even come close. You’re decent looking and you can actually carry on an intelligent conversation for more than five minutes, so you’re all I’ve got.”

  Jack handed her a glass. “That’s probably the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me. I might cry.”

  She sipped the whiskey. “Don’t expect to ever hear it again. So are you game or do I have to go hire a male prostitute?”

  Jack snorted into the glass. “If I’m still around, yeah, fine. I’ll be your arm candy.”

  “Thanks. Don’t worry. It won’t all be bad. I’ll wear a low-cut dress and everything.”

  “Damn. That’s what I was gonna do.”

  Faye sprayed a bit of whiskey and Jack grinned as she started coughing and turning pink. She glared and wiped her mouth. “You did that on purpose.”

  He drained the tumbler and set it down on the counter before heading towards Kamala’s bedroom. “Payback’s a bitch, blondie.”

  CHAPTER TWO

  RED HANDS

  “You’re staring.”

  “How can you possibly tell that when you’re not even looking at me?”

  Kamala shrugged. “Women’s intuition.”

  “Cheater.”

  She rolled over, c
areful of Jack’s outstretched left arm that she’d been using as a makeshift pillow. Occasionally, it was challenging for the two of them to cuddle properly since he was all of eight inches taller than her, but after a month of dating, they found a way to be comfortable. Besides, she actually liked their height difference. Wearing his shirts meant she didn’t have to scrounge about for nightclothes since anything of his fit her like a dress.

  Jack curled his arm beneath his head and she rested her head on the crook of it, stroking the side of his face. “Do you want to talk about it yet?”

  “No,” he said frankly. “Do you?”

  “No. But when you are ready, promise me you’ll be honest. Don’t try to spare my feelings. Tell me the truth. Tell me what you want, regardless of how you think it will appear to me. That is all I ask of you.”

  Jack swallowed hard, but nodded anyway. “As long as you do the same. I know we’re keeping it a secret for now, but how long do you think we can pull it off with Faye? She knows you too well.”

  “I know,” Kamala sighed. “She can see straight through me when I lie. I suppose we’ll have to tell her before long.”

  “Do we really have to, though?”

  “I imagine she’d notice after a certain point, Jack.”

  “Uh-huh. And I can also tell you what her reaction will be.”

  “Sadly, yes. She’s going to punch you in the face.”

  “Right in the face. She’ll probably break my nose while she’s at it. I’m not so sure I can pull off the Owen Wilson look.”

  Kamala patted his cheek. “I’ll protect you, don’t worry. No one’s going to hurt my dragon while I’m around.”

  “Thanks.” He pressed a soft kiss to her lips and slid his hand down along her arm, eventually settling on her hip. He nudged the hem of the shirt aside and flattened his large hand against her lower belly, still flat and toned as usual. Neither of them said anything for a long while.

  “I don’t know how people do this every day,” Jack murmured.

  “Do what?”

  “Deal with life or death situations. I can’t stop thinking about Tokyo and all those people. All those families who won’t see their loved ones again and—”