

Of Cinder and Bone

Kyoko M

### For Tyger

### You were my dragon and you always will be

### Rest in peace.

### 2004-2016

Of Cinder and Bone

Copyright © 2016 Kyoko M

Copy edited by Eeva Lancaster

Book Interior by The Book Khaleesi

Cover art by Marginean Anca

Poem by Elisabeth Hewer

Other Works by Kyoko M

The Black Parade

The Deadly Seven: Stories from The Black Parade series

She Who Fights Monsters

The Holy Dark

Visit http://www.shewhowritesmonsters.com for more

They sent a knight to save you once

And found you curled up with the dragon

Crown askew, skirts singed

They tried marrying you,

Couldn't hack it, went home,

You liked the acoustics much better

In empty castles.

(the dragon was teaching you to roar.)

Six wars they waged against you—

Disgruntled princes with their

Silent knights.

Blood in the fields, in the water,

In the snow, on their crowns,

When you added them

To your collections.

Rarely smiled, laughed only with the dragon,

Looked so often over your shoulder

You almost forgot to watch ahead.

Here's the secret you took to your grave;

You were holding whole kingdoms

But your palms were made of sand.

\- Elisabeth Hewer, "Obituary for the princess who forgot to be a fairytale"

# CHAPTER ONE

ASK DNA

" **I** swear to Vishnu, if this doesn't work, I'm going to stab you in the throat with a Pipette."

To the average person, this threat would have been worrisome, but not to Rhett "Jack" Jackson, Ph.D. He merely removed his sinhalite-hued eyes from the microscope and arched an eyebrow at his companion.

"Um. Please don't?"

Dr. Kamala Anjali rolled her own smoky-quartz eyes. "No promises. How's it look?"

Jack sighed and massaged his sinuses. "Not any better than yesterday. Or the day before. Or the month before."

"Your optimism is what I like best about you," she said, nudging him aside to have her own look at the incubator. She examined it for a moment or two before echoing his sigh. The sperm and genetically modified egg might as well have been middle-school kids at their first dance. Neither of them would even come near each other, let alone combine.

"Alright, I'm calling it. What time is it?"

Jack checked his watch. "Ten 'til eleven."

"Damn. Come on, let's pack it up for the night." She removed the sample and tucked it carefully into the cooler beside it, flipping off the light. She tapped her laptop and stared into the built-in camera, not bothering to disguise the scowl on her face. "Trial Number sixty-one proved negative results. Will reconvene for Trial Number sixty-two at eight a.m. tomorrow." She closed the program and then stuck the samples on a shelf in the nearby walk-in freezer.

Jack scooped together their mountain of paperwork and closed her laptop, before slipping both into her brown leather briefcase. The two moved smoothly in their nightly ritual of replacing all the lab equipment, to prepare them for the next students.

He went over to the whiteboard at the far wall and started erasing the equations they'd written on it. There were enough that it looked like a wall of hieroglyphics in ancient Egypt, and for all intents and purposes, it might as well have been. It told stories of seemingly impossible things—things that couldn't be explained, except through faith.

Jack's brush-strokes with the eraser were hard and quick. Kamala observed them out of her peripheral, as she pushed their stools in towards the table. When the board was clean, he tossed it down next to the markers and ran a hand through his dark hair, hesitating before joining her again.

"So...I'm going to a party," Kamala said brightly, grinning up at him as he helped her out of her lab coat. "You should come."

Again, his right eyebrow rose. "Uh. You've met me, right? Two left feet. Made of clay. Attached to an absurdly uncoordinated frame."

To emphasize this, he brandished both large hands at himself, drawing her attention to his six-foot-two gangly body. He looked right at home in a laboratory, with his brunette hair sticking up in random directions, crisp white button-down shirt, and charcoal grey slacks over black wing-tip Cole Haans.

Kamala shook her head, her short dark hair framing gracefully round cheekbones and delicate features. The nose-stud helped break up her doll-like qualities, though her five-foot-four height did not. "No one said you had to dance. Drink. Flirt with girls. You know, things college guys do?"

Jack's cheeks colored a bit. "That's not really my deal. Besides, we've got an early start tomorrow—"

"We _always_ have an early start, Jack," she said impatiently. "Doesn't mean we can't have fun between now and if we ever accomplish our ridiculously ambitious project."

He scratched the back of his neck and avoided her eyes. "Still, though. Maybe tomorrow will be the big breakthrough. Can't have a breakthrough if you're hungover."

"Fine." She turned on her heel, marched to the door, and opened it for him, her smile fierce. "We'll see what Faye has to say about it."

He groaned as he walked out, his feet dragging across the tiles.

"Great."

~ * ~

The second Kamala opened the door to her two-bedroom apartment—a single-level smushed in a row a mere three miles from the Massachusetts Institute of Technology's main campus—Slayer poured out into the night to assault the ears of anyone nearby. Jack winced as he toed off his shoes and left them next to the welcome mat, shutting the door behind them. He caught the sharp scent of butter in the air as well as some form of greenery—probably sautéed kale, since Kamala was vegetarian—and walked in further to investigate.

A tall, leggy blonde stood in the kitchen, her hips swaying back and forth to the frantic drumbeats of "Angel of Death." Her shoulder-length hair was tied high and bounced against the nape of her neck. Her blue-grey eyes stayed focused on the pan until the pair walked into her line of sight.

"Kam-Kam!" she grinned. "Back just in time! I'm almost done and then we can bounce to the party."

She then glanced at Jack and her face sobered significantly. Jack's wincing deepened. "What's the Stiff doing here?"

Jack sighed. "I'm here at her request, Faye. Won't be long, I swear."

Kamala swept past her roommate and gave her a swat on the backside as she went. Jack tried not to notice, but it was difficult, considering Faye only had on a pair of green girls' boxer shorts and a black tank top.

"Stop it, _saheli_. He just walked in the door. At least let me get him a drink before you verbally assault him."

She tossed Jack a Coke from the pantry and popped open a can for herself, ignoring Faye's scowl in her general direction. She then reached over the counter and turned the radio down to a dull roar. "Besides, you're going to convince him to come to the party with us."

"Ha!" the blonde exclaimed, switching off the stove and spooning the kale onto a plate. "Him? At a party? Like they'd even let him in."

"Not the point. You are going to explain the scientific benefits and advantages of partying to our guest, and that's final." Kamala garnished the command with a glare, and grabbed the plate from her. She plopped down on the stool in front of the breakfast nook and started eating, while staring pointedly at the pair.

Faye drummed her long fingers on the countertop, letting her gaze drag over Jack, who shuffled from foot to foot and idly sipped his soda. "We can't take him looking like that."

Kamala waved the comment aside. "We'll make him change."

Jack opened his mouth to protest, but Kamala's glare silenced it. He pinched the bridge of his nose instead. Faye continued to examine him.

"Alright, Stilts..." Faye opened the fridge and withdrew a Granny Smith apple, biting down before continuing. "So, who are you?"

He stared at her. "Beggin' your pardon?"

She brandished a hand at him. "Who. Are. You? I mean, you've been Kam's partner for a whole year, and the only things I know about you are you're tall, awkward, you like science, and you've got an ass that won't quit."

He flushed pink. "That's...I'm not seeing how this has anything to do with the party."

"It has everything to do with the party. It's not about the drinks or the girls or the music. It's supposed to force you to open up and be social. It's about having fun. I assume you've read about fun before, right?"

Jack exhaled through his nose and counted to five before responding. "Yeah, and I've also read about peer pressure."

Faye rolled her eyes. "Work with me here, Stilts. You're a scientist. You like to learn. You like new experiences. Is one night of partying going to wreck your whole life?"

"...well, _no_ , but—"

"Butts are for Sir-Mix-a-Lot. Consider this part of your research. You are going to study two insanely beautiful women going to a party to decompress and have a good time. And, maybe, if you're lucky, you'll crawl out of that shell and have a good time too."

Jack glanced between the two of them, only to be met with matching walls of determination. He thought of several counterarguments, but got the sense that it'd be as effective as throwing a temper tantrum. "Alright, fine."

He paused for an additional second and pointed a finger at her. "But I get to pick my own clothes, dammit!"

Faye smiled and patted his cheek. "No, you don't."

"...I don't like you very much."

~ * ~

"I look ridiculous."

"You are ridiculous."

"I swear, if you two don't stop sniping at each other, I'm going to slam this car into a pole and kill us all."

Silence.

"Cry-baby."

"Harpy."

Kamala groaned and parked the car, tossing glares into the passenger's side and backseat consecutively. "Behave."

Faye batted her eyelashes. "I like it when you get mad. Your accent gets all thick and adorable."

"Get out of the car before I hurt you."

The trio exited Kamala's powder-blue Volkswagen Beetle and walked two blocks down to the club. For once, the northeast didn't have its icy claws set into the Cambridge area. It was a warm summer night, and the town had lit up with life as a result. Teenagers clustered around the local movie theaters to giggle and chat and flirt. Couples sat outside the diners and cafes, sipping their cocktails and discussing their future plans. Older folks held hands and walked along the storefronts to window-shop for their grandkids.

As they got closer, Faye's hips automatically started swaying, which did interesting things to the fluttery bottom of her blood-orange mini-skirt. The white halter-top shirt lifted in the back as she raised her arms to pump both fists. In Jack's opinion, Faye could be the poster child for a head cheerleader or prom queen: full pink lips, flawless skin, natural blonde hair that fell in a perfect fluffy shower to her shoulders, legs that would have made Goldie Hawn jealous, and curves that shamed the English countryside. The even funnier part was that Faye was far more likely to beat up a cheerleader than actually be one.

"Oh, they're playing my song," she said with a happy sigh. "I can already tell this is going to be a great night."

"Yep. Great," Jack muttered under his breath, staring at his unfamiliar red Chucks as he walked. His mother had bought them for him last Christmas, and was blissfully unaware he'd hidden them in the back of his closet. Kamala and Faye had unearthed them, as well as a leather jacket, some blue jeans, and a scarlet t-shirt with the Flash insignia on the chest. He'd complained that he looked like a sixteen-year-old going to comic con, to which both women said, "Get over it."

Kamala bumped his arm with her elbow. He glanced over, expecting a glare, but she smiled instead, and the overhead lamp made her lovely brown lips gleam. "Don't worry."

She slipped her fingers between his, leaning in as if sharing a secret. "I'll never let go, Jack."

He threw his head back and howled in annoyance. "Do you _know_ how many times I've heard that before?"

Kamala cackled. "It was worth it for the look on your face."

But she did squeeze his hand before letting go, and he had to admit he didn't mind. Kamala and Faye were like night and day. Faye loved loud-colored clothing that showed off what a bombshell she was, while Kamala preferred a more subtle style. She had thick, glossy hair cut in a layered bob just below her chin, entrancing lips, long lashes, and a voice that reminded him of warm honey in a cup of hot lemon tea. She'd chosen a burgundy dress with silver jewelry and platform heels so she could see through the crowd easier. The ensemble was just as devastating as Faye's bright colors.

A couple of burly men in black stood outside the club checking IDs. Jack flipped his wallet open, but the guy waved him through with a smirk, somehow sensing from his discomfort that he was well over twenty-one. Then, he followed Faye up the steps into the club and was instantly swallowed in dub-step.

The stairwell led to a loft-style club, currently packed to the rafters with partygoers. Pink, purple, and blue lights slashed through the darkness and shocked Jack's pupils momentarily. He felt Kamala grip his hand again and tug him towards the bar against the far wall, where Faye had led the way. She sidled up to one corner and gave the bartender a Cheshire cat grin, raising her voice over the pounding music to order three beers: one Samuel Adams and two Coronas.

She scooped the drinks up and beckoned her friends to one of the tables against the wall overlooking downtown, and all the mischief that had kicked up on a Friday night. Jack found himself relieved that the stools were high, meaning he wouldn't have to hunch over the table to be level with the girls.

Faye uncapped the beers and passed them out. "So, what are we drinking to? World peace? Cure for cancer? Zombie apocalypse?"

Kamala raised her bottle. "Here's to the semester. We've got less than a month to turn in some results or we lose the grant."

Jack grimaced, holding his out as well. "I'll drink to that."

Faye shook her head. "No way. We're not going to start down that road. I have no doubt in my mind that you two eggheads will find a match. It's going to happen. May God strike me down if I—"

She started coughing violently. Kamala rolled her eyes. Even Jack cracked a smile. "Excuse me. What was I saying?"

Kamala shook her head. "She's right. Forget about the project. Let's just enjoy the night for once. Brahma knows how many more of them we'll get."

They clinked the bottles together and drank deeply. Faye's eyes darted around the room with laser precision and her smile widened. "I've spotted my quarry. Kam, are you with me or do you want to entertain the Stiff for a while?"

"I'll catch up, troublemaker."

Faye tossed her golden hair, took one last pull that emptied the bottle, and stalked off towards some unsuspecting gentleman for a dance. Jack watched, resting his head on one hand.

"I still can't believe she's an electrical engineering expert. A section of my brain implodes every time I think about it."

Kamala chuckled. "Mysteries of the universe. Speaking of which..."

She leaned in a bit. "Why don't you like to go out, Jack? Still pretending to be a good little Christian boy?"

"Ha!" he said after another mouthful of beer. "No, I, uh, just don't seem to mingle well. Not much of a conversation-starter."

"Nonsense. You get along with me just fine."

He ran his fingers down the sweating glass bottle. "You're the exception, trust me. It's not like I don't know how. Just don't see much reason to, not with what I want out of life."

She studied him for a moment. "You want to make the world a better place. That much I know. But you're still a part of that world, Jack. You can't look through a microscope your whole life. You'll miss what's really there."

His mouth suddenly felt alarmingly dry. He swallowed a couple times. "Yeah, I guess so. But maybe—"

"Hey there, gorgeous!" A sandy-haired guy appeared with a broad grin and blue eyes focused intently on Kamala. "Care to dance?"

She glanced him over and a slow smile crawled over her lips. "Sure, but on one condition."

"What's that?"

She pointed at Jack. "Find someone to keep him company and I'm all yours."

"Oh, no problem at all, babe."

"No, it's fine, it's not necessary—" Jack protested, only to be brought a stunning redhead in a royal purple dress.

"This is Kim," the sandy-haired stranger said. "Junior. Art-history major."

She smiled. "Hi."

Jack promptly forgot how to speak English.

Kamala looped one arm through the stranger's and stifled a giggle before they left. "Back in a bit. Have fun!"

Jack coughed slightly and offered his hand. "Hi, uh. I'm Jack."

Kim took it. "Jack what?"

"Huh?"

"Your last name, silly."

"Jackson."

She blinked at him. "Your name is Jack Jackson?"

He blushed. "No, uh, my first name's Rhett, but I hate it, so..."

He gestured to the chair and she sat. Her dress rode up several inches, exposing pleasing long lines of creamy skin. "Well, Jack, what's your field of study?"

"Biological Engineering, Genetics, and Microbiology. Post-doc. I'm working on a research project at the institute."

"Really? Oh, uh, my apple martini's getting a little low."

"I've got that, one second." He scurried to the bar and bought her a fresh one. She sipped and managed to make it look not only seductive but graceful as well.

"What do you want to do after you're done with the project?" Kim continued.

"Depends on what I find."

She sent him a simmering smile. "What are you looking for?"

Immediately, Jack's eyes lit up and his posture straightened. "I started the project with the intention of learning how to increase the reproduction of certain endangered species. I had interest in the idea of cloning, but it proved too difficult based on the research I compiled, so I went into animal genetics and cellular biology. It turns out, the animals with the best potential to combine genes were reptiles, because their ability to lay eggs was a smoother transition into combining the cells to create a new species, or one with a similar ancestry that could hopefully lead to rebuilding extinct animals via surrogate birth or in-vitro fertilization. We're on the edge of breaking that code, and if we do, it would mean that we could engineer all kinds of life and reverse what damage we've done to the planet's ecosystem."

Kim stared. "Right. Would you excuse me for a second?"

She wiggled off back to her pack of friends by the bar. Judging by the sniggering and the disgusted glances he was getting, she wasn't coming back.

Jack sighed and finished off his beer, massaging his forehead. "Yes, brilliant move. You blinded her with science. Genius, Jack."

He ordered a second one and finished it before he felt smallish hands on his shoulders and a pair of soft lips on his cheek. He turned to find Kamala had returned, her smile unnaturally bright in the black lights glowing over the room. "So... how did it go with Kim?"

He shot her a flat look. "You notice the chair is empty?"

Kamala groaned. "You talked about the research project, didn't you?"

"No!" She glared at him.

"...maybe..."

"You're so useless, Jack." She paused and then tousled his hair a bit. "Cheer up. The night's still young. I'm not giving up on you."

He smiled in spite of himself. "Yet."

Her brown eyes flashed. "Never."

She grabbed his wrists and hauled him from the seat, dragging him into the writhing swarm of bodies on the dance floor. The dub-step had given way to a surging reggae beat that made the very walls of the club vibrate.

Before he could protest about his lack of rhythm, she tugged him in close and told him to loosen up. Her body may have been small, but the energy coursing through it made her seem so singular. She never missed a beat, swaying, jerking her hips left to right, her mouth wide with a smile, her dark hair fluttering over her cheeks, her hands guiding him to mirror her movements. After a moment or two, he stopped hating the idea of dancing. Another minute and he didn't mind it. A third minute and he sort of liked it a bit. A fourth minute, and he found himself thinking he could get used to it as long as she was always his partner.

The song ended too soon for his liking, melting into a slow dance that the DJ claimed was part of the classic oldies, something about love making a fool of the singer. Kamala gripped his shirt and tugged him down to her height, still grinning and breathing hard.

"See?" she murmured in his ear. "Maybe you're fun after all."

She tugged him off the floor just as everyone paired up for the slow dance, and Jack's stomach sank a little as he followed. She led him to the bar where Faye was doing what she did best: making men fall over themselves to impress her. There was a towering stack of recently emptied shot glasses beside her, along with a burly twenty-something frat boy, whose stack was slightly smaller.

"Come on, junior!" Faye laughed as the bartender refilled her glass. "I've seen freshmen in undergrad take shots better than you."

"Aw, give me a break, babe," the guy gasped out after finishing his shot.

"Why should I? There's got to be someone here who can out-drink me."

He leaned in with a leering smirk. "What do I get if I beat you?"

Jack bristled and stepped up next to her. "Uh, Faye, how many of these have you had?"

She waved the comment away. "Just a few, Buzz Killington."

"Since when is twelve a few? I must have missed that day in math class. Look, maybe you should give it a rest for a bit, huh?"

She shot him a glare. "You sayin' I can't handle it?"

He took a breath to cool his temper. "I'm saying you don't have to."

Her drinking companion scowled then. "Hey, the lady can make her own decisions, man. Back off."

Jack's hands formed fists. Kamala pushed through the small throng that had gathered, her voice sharp over the murmurs. "All three of you need to chill out. Faye, you've had enough for tonight. Let's go sit down for a while."

"Oh, don't tell me you're drinking his Kool-Aid, sweetheart," the big guy said, laying a hand on her shoulder. "She's tough. She can take it. I'm betting you can too."

Kamala brushed his hand off. "Keep it up and you'll find out just what you can take."

"Is that an invitation?" The hand returned at the small of her back and she batted his arm away, angry.

"Don't touch me."

The stranger rolled his eyes and reached for another shot. "God, why do the hot ones always have bitchy best friends?"

The glass had just touched the guy's lips when Jack's fist crashed into his chin. His head bounced off the side of the bar and he hit the floor, dazed. A chorus of "oohs" spread through the room like a virus, and Kamala shoved him backward, her eyes wide, mouth agape. "Jack!"

"Call her that again," he snarled over her head. " _Please_ call her that again."

The frat boy rose to his feet, his left cheek swelling, his face red as a stoplight. Jack shoved Kamala aside as the drunken frat boy threw a sloppy haymaker, flinching as it bounced off his shoulder. He then laid him out flat with a right cross.

By now, the bartender had called the bouncers, who both hauled Jack towards the exit, though he put up no fight after he'd downed the guy. Kamala and Faye followed him to the sidewalk where he was sprawled on his ass after a vicious shove from the bouncer.

"What the _hell_ , Jack?" Kamala shrieked, helping him up. "I mean...no, I was right the first time— _what the hell_."

He rolled his shoulder, pulling the collar of his shirt aside to see a bruise already forming. "Shouldn't have called you a bitch."

"It's a word. I'm not a child. I can handle some drunken asshole calling me names."

He frowned. "Well, I can't. I'm sorry."

Kamala sighed. "It's fine. I'm glad you're alright."

She instead whirled on Faye, who was clutching a lamp post to stay upright and staring at Jack as if she'd never seen him before. "And you! You're going straight to bed to sleep off what has to be an entire gallon of tequila by now."

"Bed, huh?" Faye grinned, her slightly glazed eyes twinkling. "Can I take Tough Guy with me?"

"Don't start with me," Jack growled.

"Maybe I want to," she purred back.

"Faye," Kamala said, giving her a shove towards the sidewalk where taxi cabs had already begun to choke the streets. "Not now. Walk."

"Ugh, lighten up, babe," Faye said, looping a long arm around her friend's shoulder and kissing her cheek. "We just had our first bar fight. Best night ever!"

"I'm going to kill you in the morning."

~ * ~

Why was there an elephant sitting on Jack's head?

He groaned, long and low, into the pillow. The pain. Dear God, the pain. His temples throbbed in rhythm with his heartbeat and he swore someone had delicately balanced an entire African elephant on his skull. His stomach jostled and threatened to revolt, but he took a couple of deep breaths and the nausea abated. All that was left was the bone-crunching agony reverberating through his head, down his neck, and through his whole body. Which was unnaturally warm for some reason, come to think of it.

After the pain died down enough for his senses to work, Jack realized he was in his bed at home. The sheets smelled faintly of fabric softener and Calvin Klein cologne, the telltale signs. The sheets were halfway down his hips for some reason, though.

He reached to pull the covers over his head so he could properly wallow in his misery, but said arm was occupied. He cracked an eyelid open to figure out why.

Kamala's adorable sleeping face was inches away. Her head rested on the crook of his arm, which served as an impromptu pillow. Jack paled so quickly that he got dizzy.

"Relax," a female voice murmured. "You're not awesome enough for a threesome, Jack."

His head popped up from the pillow only to discover Faye lying behind Kamala, smiling smugly at the utter confusion on his face.

"Wha?" He paused, trying to remember how to talk. "Do I even want to know?"

She chuckled. "Maybe."

She nodded towards Kamala, and Jack finally realized why he felt so warm. She had folded her small body into his, one arm dangling over his waist beneath the covers, the other tucked beneath her side.

He started to scoot away, but she made a noise of protest and snuggled closer, tucking her head under his neck for warmth. He blushed and kept still this time, glancing at the amused look on her roommate's face. "Ah. How?"

"Kamala drove us here," Faye said, propping her head up on one arm. Her hair was up in a ponytail, and curling strands escaped to rest on her temple and nape. The other arm rested protectively on her best friend's hip—a clear statement, if Jack ever saw one. Conversely, her body language practically radiated calm, like a blonde well-fed tiger. The analogy felt about right, since he sensed that she might tear his throat out by the end of the day.

"We iced down your shoulder and started the _Family Guy_ drinking game with tequila shots. You know, drink every time there's a pointless cutaway gag or an 80's reference. Two episodes in and we were pretty much trashed. Kamala dozed off first, then you, and I didn't feel like taking the bus home, so I crawled in with you."

"Right," he said, licking his dry lips. "Anything else I missed?"

"No. But I think I misjudged you."

He stared. "You're kidding."

She shrugged a shoulder. "What? You're a textbook nerd. I sure as shit wouldn't have guessed you could fight."

Her eyes lit up then. "Speaking of which, where'd that come from?"

Jack exhaled. "Aren't you worried we're gonna wake her up?"

Faye gave her friend a smack on the butt. Kamala mumbled something in Hindi and didn't stir. "She sleeps like the dead. We're safe. Now spill."

"Grew up on a farm. Never put on any muscle. I've always been wiry. Got picked on sometimes. Got into a couple fights. Old man didn't want his kid being bullied, so he taught me how to throw and take a punch."

She paused. "How to _take_ a punch?"

Jack shrugged, but his eyes said what his posture didn't. "Is what it is. I don't like to broadcast it."

"No shit. Two hits and the guy was down. Remind me never to piss you off."

He smirked. "Like that's ever stopped you before."

She matched the smirk. "Point taken, farmboy."

The amusement faded and she gestured towards his shoulder. "Sorry about last night. You were right. I was out of line."

He shook his head. "Lost my temper anyhow. Forget it."

"So," she said, narrowing her eyes slightly. "You gonna tell her how you feel?"

Jack didn't back down from her frostbite stare. "Are you?"

She stopped breathing for a second. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me," he murmured.

Faye clenched her jaw. "Where do you get off thinking you know _anything_ about how I feel?"

"Same place you do, apparently."

Her breathing spiked, and for a moment, he thought she'd swing on him, but she cursed under her breath and held back. She closed her eyes for a while instead. "How long have you known?"

"Few months."

"And you didn't say anything."

Again, he shrugged. "None of my business."

She snorted, glancing at Kamala. "Can't believe she's fucked us both up. Figuratively speaking, of course."

Jack choked on a laugh. "Of course."

She met his gaze again. "You love her?"

"Dunno," he whispered. "Never been in love. You?"

"Maybe. Been in enough relationships to know what it isn't. Too chickenshit to find out for the moment. I guess you could say I'm waiting to see what happens."

"Well, between you, me, and the wallpaper, I think you've got a better shot than I do."

"Ha. You wouldn't say that if you knew how she talked about you when you're not around."

His brows lifted. "She talks about me?"

Faye rolled her eyes. "God, are all men this thick or is it just you? You've spent a year seeing her almost every day. Your work is what got her back on track. She thought about giving up on her career before she found your project, Jack."

He frowned down at the dark-haired pixie before him. "I...didn't know that. She's always so fearless. I figured she knew from the get-go what she wanted."

"No one ever does. Why should she be any different?" Faye tucked a lock of hair behind Kamala's ear and listened to her sigh. "I don't know where this is gonna go. I don't. And we both have a lot to lose, but...maybe you should say something. She can't stay in the dark forever. It's not fair."

"Easier said than done."

Faye smiled, a little sadly this time. "That's love, Stilts."

Before he could say anything else, she leaned across Kamala and kissed Jack full on the mouth.

"And if it's any consolation," she whispered, their lips still touching. "It's her loss if she says no."

She then grinned at the stunned look on his face. "I'm gonna go get some coffee."

With that, Faye slipped from beneath the covers and disappeared out of the room, humming "Silly" by Deniece Williams. Jack stared at the doorway long after she'd gone through it and listened to Kamala's soft breaths against his sternum.

# CHAPTER TWO

CATALYST

" **F** or the record, you and your roommate's definition of 'fun' scares me beyond all reasoning," Jack said, holding the hallway door open for Kamala.

She slurped another mouthful of cappuccino to offset her hangover. So far, it wasn't doing much other than burning her tongue. "You're the one that started a bar fight."

"Ended, more like," he said, sipping his own black coffee. "Not sure if I should thank you for inviting me out or learn from this grievous mistake."

She rolled her eyes. "Bite me."

He gave her a deadpan leer. "Where?"

She burst into giggles. "Shut up, Jack."

He opened the lab door, and she walked through, only to stop dead after a couple of steps. Jack bumped into her, apologizing, and then immediately realized why she'd stopped.

"Dr. Yagami," Kamala said in a faux-sugary voice, addressing the Japanese man hunched over the desk they normally used. "What are you doing?"

"Kamala," he replied without looking up from the microscope. "This is commonly known as research. Is there a problem?"

"I'll say," she said, stomping towards him. "We've been doing eight a.m. schedules for the entire year. Why are you using our lab?"

He finally glanced at her, his face impatient. "It's nine o'clock. You didn't show up, so I came in to use the equipment."

"We're scheduled here until noon, Yagami," Jack interrupted. "We're late, but we showed."

"First come, first serve, kids. Besides, I'm sure we can share like grownups."

Kamala glanced at Jack, who pantomimed snapping Yagami's neck. A grim smile overtook her lips and she sighed, heading towards the freezer containing their research samples. "Good to know you understand what that word means."

"Grownups?"

She shot him a sarcastic smile. "Share."

"Right," he snorted, scribbling something down on a notepad. "Cute."

She took out the cooler while Jack set their stuff down on the table on the opposite side, giving them the center of the room for distance. Jack unzipped the briefcase containing her laptop and plugged it in, his dark gaze aimed at the fellow post-doc across from them.

Like Jack, Yagami was twenty-seven and blessed with a research project in the subject of genetics, specifically in the area of DNA modification in animals. Unlike Jack, however, he'd been groomed for years to be in this field, and to find something truly revolutionary. He'd come from money, privilege, and expectations. The Sugimoto family owned several pharmaceutical companies in Japan, but they'd been searching for a way to expand their reach in the medical world even further. Even his appearance rang of his pedigree: short, neatly cut hair that was never out of place, manicured nails, a cloud of Tom Ford cologne swirling in his wake wherever he went, and designer suits whose labels Jack didn't even recognize.

"Think he was born that much of a douchebag or did he have to take classes?" Jack muttered once she was within earshot.

"Got me," Kamala answered, doing her usual check of the equipment inside.

"A douchebag with perfect hearing," Yagami said loudly.

"Yeah, we know," Jack said without an ounce of regret. "How's your sign language?"

Kamala stifled a laugh and pushed Jack's arm down, as well as his one-fingered salute. "I'll start setting up the next trial. Bring up the bibliography, would you?"

He grunted, sat on a nearby stool, and got to work. Like always, they moved smoothly through the opening procedures: checking the progress of the samples, noting the changes in the upcoming trials, and studying the research they'd gathered. An hour sidled on by.

"So," Kamala said, casting a sidelong glance at her partner. "Last night."

Jack cleared his throat and kept staring into the microscope. "Last night."

"You never told me you could fight."

"Never had a need to."

Her tone softened, as did her steady gaze on him. "Your father?"

His shoulders knotted with tension. "Yeah."

She exhaled through her nose and fell silent for a few heartbeats. "I'm sorry."

"No need to be."

She pushed up the sleeve of his lab coat to expose part of his forearm. A faint scar had melted into his skin long ago, leaving only a ghostly pale mark running from his wrist to his elbow instead. It was small and thin like a surgeon's incision, though she could tell it had probably been larger and more noticeable when he was a teenager.

Jack shivered. Her fingertips were softer than he'd thought.

"You told me this came from falling off a tractor," Kamala said softly. "Only broken bone you've ever had. Fractured ulna. Was that...?"

He didn't reply and she nodded. "I don't mean to pry. I sometimes wonder why you don't like to talk about your life before MIT, but now that's becoming clearer to me."

He watched her for a moment or two. "I didn't want you to look at me like that."

She blinked a couple times. "Like what?"

Jack's jaw twitched. "Pity. Remorse. Sympathy. Whatever you want to call it. When people find out, they start treating me like I'm made of paper mache. It's not a particularly welcome feeling."

"If you were worried I'd treat you differently, you're wrong. I can respect your privacy. But what I saw last night...I thought maybe you needed to get something off your chest."

Jack's heartbeat did a brief imitation of a drummer having an epileptic fit. He licked his lips. "Like what?"

She shrugged. "You're a hard man to read, Jack. But you don't punch a drunken frat boy in the head twice unless you're really stressed out. You can talk to me about things other than the project. I just want you to know that."

"I do know that, Kam. But thanks for saying it anyway. Sorry if I'm a bit of a bore."

She lifted an eyebrow. "You're doing a research project about trying to resurrect a living, breathing dragon, and you got in a bar fight last night. Boring is not the word I'd use to describe you, Jack."

His cheeks reddened and she giggled. "And you're cute as a button when you blush."

He scowled and turned back to his work. "I don't like being called cute, just FYI. And also for your information, you're not exactly an open book, Dr. Anjali."

"How dare you," she scoffed. "I am perfectly willing to answer any question you have about my personal life."

He shot her a sly look. "Oh, are you? So, tell me why you don't have a boyfriend."

Her mouth clamped shut, and he got the sudden impression that he'd stunned her. "I...haven't been looking all that hard, to be honest."

"Why not?"

"Boyfriends complicate things. I like simple." She smirked. "Hence why I'm partners with you."

He rolled his eyes. "Weak. Do better."

"I'm twenty-eight. There'll be plenty of time for men after our world-shattering research is published and we become filthy rich famous snobs. Besides, when's the last time you've showed up with a hickey, Mr. Nosy?"

He coughed. "Touché."

She flopped down on her stool and scribbled a few things into her spiral notebook. "To tell you the absolute truth, I got tired of being interrogated by my parents. They tried to introduce me to a couple of different guys they approved of, but my suitors were arrogant and spoiled. The kind of guys who want me to stay home and take care of their brood. Be a more 'traditional' southern Indian girl."

"Traditional," Jack snorted. "Right. Marriage to a complete stranger who expects you to clean up after him and be pretty. How could you refuse such an offer, you tramp?"

"Who knows? It's less messy not to have boyfriends around. I assume it's the same for you. Well, that and your terrible social skills."

Jack let out an impressive Neanderthal grunt and she chuckled. "Though I should warn you: Faye likes tough guys. Now that she's seen you hit someone, she might come after you."

Jack shuddered visibly. "That is too scary to even picture."

"Rhett Jackson actually struck someone?" Yagami mused, walking past them to dump some contaminated needles in the bright orange Haz-mat bucket bolted to the wall behind them. "On purpose?"

"Shit happens," Jack answered, narrowing his eyes at Yagami's smirk.

"Let me guess: someone made a pass at your girlfriend?" He aimed his gaze at Kamala.

"She's not my girlfriend, for the seven-hundredth time."

Yagami clucked his tongue and shook his head. "Men of action are in short supply these days. It's probably for the best, then."

Jack's right hand balled into a fist and Kamala laid a hand on his shoulder, her eyes never leaving Yagami's. "You're such an impressive man, Dr. Sugimoto."

His smirk widened. "Am I?"

"Yes. Do tell me how you manage to walk upright with your head so far up your ass?"

The smirk crumbled. "Profanity is the inevitable linguistic crutch of the inarticulate."

Kamala batted her long eyelashes and smiled prettily. "Fuck you, troglodyte."

He rolled his eyes and returned to his side of the lab. Jack stared at Kamala.

"What?"

"Marry me."

~ * ~

"I'm missing something."

Kamala glanced up from the iPad in her lap. Jack sat across from her at the dinner table, long fingers in his lightly tousled hair, frowning down at his own tablet. The lines in his face were deeper than they should have been. He looked as if he'd aged several years in the last few minutes.

"We're both missing something," she corrected, taking a sip of the cooling coffee next to her. "A good night's sleep and various scores of brain cells."

He shook his head. "No. I mean...we should have gotten there by now. The theories, the projections, the diagrams should have pointed us to the solution. They haven't. I missed something."

"We'll get there, Jack," she said gently. "We're close."

He sat back in his creaky chair, exhaling. "We've been close for a year. Over a year. I don't know that we can do this in time."

Kamala stood up. He didn't look at her as she walked over and sat on the edge of the table, crossing her legs. "Do you know why I decided to work on this project?"

"Yes. You told me you believed in my work, and in my intention to rebuild ecosystems of animals we destroyed by polluting and hunting certain species to extinction."

"And that's true." She leaned in until their faces were level. "But it was _you_ , Jack. When we first met, you couldn't shut up about the thousands of different ways this could work, how it could change the way we understand genetics and biological engineering. Do you think I didn't have other options? I graduated top of my class. I could have gone anywhere. I chose here. I chose this project. I chose you. Do you think for a second I'd have thrown my future away if we weren't going to find the answer?"

He swallowed. "No."

She rested her hand on his, her small fingers warm and strong. "Everyone loses faith, Jack. Everyone. One way or another. But the difference between us and them is getting it back. You only fail when you give up. Everything else is just an inconvenience."

"What if I'm wrong?"

"You're not. You're overworked and you haven't been sleeping well."

Jack blinked at her and she smiled. "Your skin gets dry and pale when you're tired. Also, you've ingested so much coffee you must be pooping espresso beans."

He laughed then. "There we go. A smile, at least. Now come on, let's take a break."

Jack sighed. "We don't have time for a break; just a break _through_."

"Shut up and come over here." She got up and headed for the bookshelf next to Jack's flat-screen T.V. Like her own shelf, it was cluttered with both literature and movies, but that was the only similarity in their apartments. The Anjali family came from wealth and prosperity, based mainly in medical and business fields. She and Faye lived on Amory Street, near the commonly known Squares that made up Cambridge and the nearby Harvard area.

Jack hadn't been quite as fortunate. He lived in a one-bedroom closer to the Boston area, and while it was no dump, it was a far cry from the shiny modern palace of Benjamin Apartments. The furniture was clean, but secondhand. His kitchen could only fit one person at a time and he usually ate at the table since the den was too cramped to fit both a coffee table and a sofa. The bedroom was about the same, with just enough room for his king-sized bed, a sturdy desk and chair, and one dresser for his clothes. Most of the time, he insisted on studying at Kamala's since he felt slightly self-conscious about his home, but she never seemed to mind.

He turned on the television while she browsed his movie collection, flipping channels. He groaned suddenly.

"What?" she asked.

"Yagami's family is in the news again." He squinted at the headline and listened to the newscaster. "Oh, wait, doesn't sound like good news."

He turned up the volume.

" _C.E.O. Makoto Sugimoto has announced that he will be stepping down from the position to retire, as his declining health has been causing issues as of late. Sugimoto's son, Yagami, a post-doc researcher here at MIT, is expected to inherit the company, but there are rumors that his sister, Keiko, is in the running as well. Yagami has declined to comment on whether he intends to return home to run his father's empire. Keiko, however, has been in the media touring with her father, and has expressed interest in Sugimoto Pharmaceutical Company's future."_

"Well, at least that partly explains why he's such a dick-nugget," Jack grumbled. "Old man's bad health is stressful enough without the results of his project having the same deadline as ours. Guess I should start being nicer to him."

Kamala wrinkled her nose as she chose a movie. "You're creeping me out just by saying that, Jack."

"I aim to please. What's the cinematic masterpiece for the night?"

She brandished the case, beaming. " _Reign of Fire_. Nothing helps one decompress like bald, shirtless Matthew McConaughey, chewing the scenery and harpooning dragons in the face."

"Ugh. Your roommate bought me that for Christmas as a joke. I've never actually seen it, but it felt rude to throw it away."

She popped it into the Blu-Ray player and flopped down on the couch next to him. "Trust me, you won't regret it. Who knows? Maybe you'll get an inspiration."

"To puke, maybe. God, I'm gonna need another beer for this."

~ * ~

Around the time Van Zan, Quinn, and Alex were crouching inside a burnt, totaled bus to discuss their plan to kill the alpha dragon, Jack's cell phone buzzed in his pocket. He frowned and dug it out, confused as to who was texting him at nearly one o'clock in the morning.

You guys banging yet?

Jack shut his eyes for a moment, suppressing the urge to growl.

No. Go to sleep, you pervert.

I'm bored. Still studying?

Watching a movie.

What movie?

Reign of Fire.

Kam picked that, didn't she?

Yep.

That's my girl. Get her home by curfew or I'll kick your ass.

He rolled his eyes and stuffed the phone in his pocket without replying. A couple of minutes later and it hummed again. Against his better judgment, he checked it.

So, what's your stance on threesomes?

Jack's growl vibrated down Kamala's shoulder, enough to make her glance at him. "Problem?"

He quickly switched off the phone's text messaging screen. "Uh, no."

Kamala eyed him. "Faye?"

He continued watching the shirtless dragon-hunter crawl up an old industrial chimney shaft with an ax clutched in his teeth. "Yep."

"Booty call?"

He squirmed. "Not exactly."

Kamala chuckled and patted his knee. "Aw, she really _does_ like you."

"Please take that back, for the love of God. How do I make her stop?"

She paused. "Well, obviously, sleeping with her wouldn't help."

"Ya _think_?" Jack sputtered, and she just laughed.

"Calm down. Not your type, huh?"

"I don't think we're even the same species. She's a shark in a mini-skirt. An alligator in Prada pumps."

"True. Good kisser, though."

Jack turned his body towards her very slowly and stared. " _What._ "

Kamala kept a straight face. "I told you I wasn't a traditional Southern Indian girl."

Jack felt his cheeks...and other areas...filling with blood. His squirming increased. "Ah. I see."

"If you turn any redder, you could direct traffic. Have I made you uncomfortable, Jack?"

"Yes. Probably not for the reasons you think, though."

She laughed again, shaking her head and facing the TV. "Men. Academic or otherwise, you're all the same."

He couldn't help twiddling his thumbs a bit. "So, are you two...?"

"Relax. We got drunk one night. We're not in a relationship."

Jack felt something in his chest tighten and actively tried not to wince. Kamala sounded sure. Dismissive of the idea, even. As much as Faye annoyed him, he couldn't stand the thought of her heart being broken.

"Does she know that?"

"Of course she does."

He did wince that time. At least one thing was clear.

They were _both_ hopeless cases.

~ * ~

"Since Yagami's got his ass-hat firmly in place, you want me to pick you up at seven-thirty tomorrow?" Jack asked, rattling his keys in his hands as he stood on Kamala's front porch.

"That's probably a good idea." She checked her watch and sighed. "Six hours of sleep. I just love being an adult academic."

He tossed her a crooked grin. "Ain't it the best?"

"Of course." She opened the door, but paused before going in. Her gaze found him, her voice soft and gentle like a summer breeze in Georgia. "Remember what I said, _mera dost_. We'll find our way."

Jack nodded and she gave him a peck on the cheek. Faye appeared in the archway to the kitchen, greeting Kamala while stirring a spoon in her chai tea. Once Kamala disappeared around the corner, she walked over and leaned against the doorjamb, her blue eyes cool.

"Still didn't tell her, did you?"

He massaged the bridge of his nose. "Didn't seem like the right time."

"It never will be, you know. You're gonna have to go for it." She craned her neck, staring into the apartment distantly. "I wish I could tell you how she'll react. She's hard to read sometimes."

"Tell me about it," Jack sighed. "Well, unless you have more sexual harassment for me, I'm out."

Faye winked. "I always have more, Stilts, but I'd better let you get some beauty sleep. Rest well. Dream of large women."

Jack laughed in surprise. " _The Princess Bride_? You?"

"I'm not just another pretty face, big boy." She shut the door. Jack walked back to his little blue Mazda Protégé shaking his head, but smiling nonetheless.

~ * ~

Jack returned to the apartment promptly at seven-thirty a.m. The door swung open to reveal the bed-headed, sleep-deprived Kamala, and he couldn't help but smile. His hair always stuck up in the front for some weird reason, and hers was doing a damn good imitation of his at the moment. Unlike him, though, the haphazard wayward locks managed to make her look even cuter than usual.

"Sorry," she mumbled, waving him inside. "Forgot to set my alarm. I'll be out in a second."

"Take your time."

Kamala grunted, shuffling back towards her room. "If I did that, I'd get back in bed for another three hours."

He shook his head as she shoved the door shut with her foot. A moment later, he felt a tap on his shoulder. Jack turned.

A slender fist swung towards his face.

Jack dodged and grabbed his assailant's wrist as it breezed by, wrenching it behind the person's back in an arm lock. He shoved the attacker face-first into the wall without thinking, only to realize it wasn't a him, but a _her_.

"Goddamn it, Faye!" Jack snarled, letting out a huge breath of relief. He dropped his hand from her arm and stepped back, glaring daggers. "What the hell was that for?"

Faye turned around and leaned against the wall, crossing her arms and smirking. "Wow, it really is hard-wired into you, huh?"

"I could have hurt you, for God's sake."

"What? I was curious. I wanted to know if the other night was just a fluke. Looks like I was wrong." She rubbed her wrist. "Nice grip. I might have bruises later."

"You're a lunatic, you know that?"

"Yep. Then again, I did tell you I'd kick your ass if you brought her home after curfew."

Jack massaged his temples. "I'm starting to wonder if I should get a restraining order against you."

"You're seriously no fun. All kidding aside, I had a thought."

He glared. "I probably don't want to hear it."

She rolled her eyes. "If you ever do tell Kam the truth and you whisk her away to live in your hovel, I'm on my own. I know I mess with you a lot, but I want to know if you could teach me some moves. Nothing fancy. Just basic self-defense."

He stared. "You're serious."

"As Harry Potter's godfather."

"That is a stupendously bad idea."

"Why?"

"Because I'd love to kick you off a cliff, for one," he said frankly. "And because I don't trust you as far as I can kick you off said cliff. How do I know this isn't one of your vain attempts to seduce me?"

"Relax. I give you my word this isn't an attempt to lay your quivering body down by the fireside," she said with the utmost sarcasm. "I actually think it would be good for me. Especially after that nonsense at the bar."

"Normally, I'd say no. Right now, I'll say hell no. You're scary enough without knowing how to properly throw a punch."

She scowled. "What was wrong with that punch?"

"You telegraphed it. Wild haymakers are doomed to fail with someone your size. You need a jab or a cross at close range, aimed at the nose or a soft target." He paused, narrowing his eyes at her. "And you're not telling me the whole truth anyway. Sure, self-defense is a good lesson for a woman who might be living alone or spending long hours at the university, but that's not why you asked me. So, what's the real reason, Faye? What's going on in that disturbed little mind of yours?"

"My mind is huge, thank you very much." She met his gaze, then broke it off, dragging it across him from head to toe. "So, I guess you've been wondering why I'm so interested in you all of a sudden."

Jack grunted. "Kamala says you like tough guys."

"That's the short version. Before the other night, I thought you were about as easy to read as a Dr. Seuss book. Turns out you aren't."

She lowered her voice and stepped forward, running her fingers over the lapel of his grey sports coat. "But more than that, you have a very interesting past, one that intrigues me. You're about ninety-five percent fluffy kittens, but that five percent I saw at the bar isn't. I've seen eyes like that before. You've seen some shit that you don't want us to know about. There is something dark inside you, Rhett Jackson. I want to know where it comes from."

He stared her down for a moment more. "You want to know, huh?"

"Mm-hmm."

"You really want to know?"

"Mm-hmm."

Jack leaned in and placed both hands on the wall next to her head, his eyes half-lidded, close enough that she could smell his cologne. "You sure?"

She shivered as he tilted his face towards her ear, his cheek warm along hers.

"Read the autobiography."

Smoothly, he stood to full height just as Kamala's bedroom door opened. Faye glared at him and he smiled sweetly, glancing at Kamala. "Ready?"

"Ready." She blinked at the livid expression on Faye's face. "I miss something?"

"Not at all," Faye sniffed, brushing past them. "Have a good day."

Kamala walked with Jack to the car.

"Why the hell are you smiling so hard?"

"Oh, no reason."

~ * ~

"So, I had an epiphany."

Kamala sipped her coffee. "You should have that checked out by a doctor."

Jack rolled his eyes. "Retracing our steps hasn't worked. I figured we could reconstruct what we know of dragons based on the remains archaeologists have been studying. That might be the key to cracking the code, so to speak. Maybe, approaching this from the cellular level is blinding us to an obvious fact of some kind. Plus, a little visualization never hurt anybody."

She nodded. "Alright. So, where do we start?"

"Facts, as always. What we know about them, and then we can fill in the blanks with theories afterward. Let's start with the basics. So far, there are thirty-seven identified species of dragon. The earliest remains are carbon-dated back to the Triassic period, and the most recent remains are carbon-dated at the Mesozoic era and after the Ice Age. Only twelve species of dragon have been identified with flight capabilities. Fifteen have the necessary biological chemicals to blow fire, mainly from sacs located in the mouth that secrete two chemicals which ignite upon mixing, while others produce methane gas ignited by friction in the lining of the throat. Said methane gas also contributes to the flight capabilities of certain species."

Kamala nodded again. "Right. Others have been identified to produce poisonous gas or venom to confuse larger predators or paralyze prey. Bones have been gathered on every continent, but found more frequently in North and South America, Africa, China, Europe, Japan, and some of the Pacific Islands."

Jack began to pace with his hands in his pockets. He had the room. There were people clustered in groups listening to tour guides wandering past, while others took selfies and photos of the skeleton towering above him.

The Romer Hall of Vertebrae Paleontology at Harvard museum was home to four different species of dragon, including the largest on record, which stood at thirty-five feet long from snout to tail, and twelve feet tall. It had been excavated from eastern Russia five years before entering a vicious bidding war until it found its home. In consideration of her long claws—talons that were eight inches long—and the working theory that her scales had been grey, she was named Baba Yaga. Like the triceratops and Kronosaurus, it was one of the most popular exhibits in their collection. So much so that they had built her a separate room from the dining hall.

Jack continued. "They reproduce in the same vein as snakes and lizards, but there is a theory that as they began to die out, a gene developed that allowed them to reproduce asexually in same-sex only environments. Skeletons deduced to be male showed a larger size, and based on the sexual dimorphism shown in related reptiles, they are believed to be more aggressive and brightly colored, as well as being apex predators."

He smirked, gesturing to the looming titan behind him. "Our lovely Baba Yaga being the exception. I still think that she should have been called Big Mama."

"Hilarious. If we do create our dragon, you're definitely not in charge of naming it."

"Killjoy. Anyway, aside from the fossils we've unearthed, the living habits of dragons have been determined as similar to their reptile brothers and sisters. They stay near a water source and make a den either underground or in wooded areas where there is plenty of prey. Smaller species live in trees, swamps, and occasionally deserts in the case of firsthand accounts in Egypt, Libya, and Sudan. They are solitary creatures, though the smaller species have some sort of pack structure. The un-hatched fossilized eggs suggest they are oviparous and bury their eggs before abandoning the nest. Their mating season and habits have also yet to be determined. Hence why it's so damn hard to clone one, apparently."

Kamala hid a smile and swooped in from there. "Depending on the hostility of its environment, the average dragon had a lifespan of anywhere between nine and forty years. They migrate to a warmer climate to lay their eggs. As far as their extinction goes, many of the larger breeds died out during the period the dinosaurs did. Those that survived were hunted to extinction in the dragon-hunting renaissance."

"So, what are we missing?"

"Good question," Kamala sighed, lifting her gaze to the monstrous jaws hovering above her. "Finishing the DNA sequence to create an egg was successful, but each of the reproductive trials has failed. We've tried various temperatures, various samples, and various controls. All negative. We've scoured every bit of data we have on their reproduction and yet, we have been unable to combine the sperm and egg."

"Well, we are operating at a huge disadvantage since there has never been any remains found from a fetus. All we've had were fossilized egg shells. If we were able to study their genetic makeup before birth, we might have a breakthrough. The closest we've come is identifying their closest genetic relative, the Komodo dragon."

"What if we started in that direction?" Kamala asked. "Instead of focusing on the trials with fertilizing the egg based on theory, what if the reproductive habits of the Komodo dragon can lead us to a step we missed?"

He stopped pacing. "That... actually is a great idea. Maybe it's not just the sperm and the egg, like we've been focused on. Maybe it has to do with the mating habits in general. There could be a link between the two. After all, Komodo dragons have the rare ability to partake in parthenogenesis. We've assumed the only option to recreate a dragon has been through both sexes, but there might be the potential in asexual reproduction instead."

He grinned, adopting a terrible British accent. "By Jove, Watson, you've done it again."

Kamala shook her head. "You are such a dork."

"I consider that a compliment, old girl." Jack swiveled on his heel, and nearly bumped into a small curly-haired girl, no more than six or seven-years-old. A few freckles dusted her nose, matching her mousey brown hair, and her eyes were pale green, staring up at him unblinking. She appeared to have overheard a great deal of what he and Kamala had been discussing based on the interest clear on her young face.

He glanced to and fro, not seeing a parent who looked anything like her nearby.

"Uh. Hi there."

The girl smiled, revealing that her two front teeth were missing. "Hi."

Jack cleared his throat. "Ah, where are your parents?"

The girl shrugged. Jack decided to clarify. "Did you come here with your parents?"

She nodded. Jack got a sinking feeling. "Oh. Are you lost?"

Another shrug. The fact that she was possibly alone didn't seem to scare her, to Jack's relief. He glanced at Kamala, who came over and squatted before the child.

"What's your mother's name, sweetheart?"

The girl's nose wrinkled in thought. "Barbara."

"Okay," Kamala said, offering her hand. "Why don't we go find her?"

"Mmkay." The girl took Kamala's hand and then offered her other one to Jack expectantly. He looked at Kamala for a panicked second, and she giggled, nodding that it was alright. He clasped the child's tiny hand in his huge one and they started walking towards the customer service area of the Museum of Natural History.

"What's your name?"

"Hayley," the girl replied.

"Well, Hayley, I'm Kamala and this is Jack."

Hayley glanced between the two of them. "I like dragons."

"What a coincidence! So do we."

Hayley's face split into a delighted grin. "I'm gonna be a princess when I grow up and I'll have a pet dragon."

"That sounds lovely," Kamala said. "What will you name it?"

Hayley thought about it. "Pete."

Jack laughed a bit. "Good name for a dragon. Or someone who was friends with one."

The child sent him a questioning look and he coughed slightly. "Sorry. I'm an old-timer, ignore me."

"How old are you?"

"Twenty-seven."

"Wow. I'm six an' a half."

"Mazel tov."

"What's that mean?"

Jack scratched the back of his neck. "Technically in Hebrew it means 'good star.' It's like congratulations."

"Congratumalations?"

"Something like that."

"What's that mean?"

"It's like saying good job."

"Oh! Like when I get a star 'cause I spelled something right?"

"Exactly like that."

They reached the customer service counter and Kamala came forward. "We've got a lost child here. Her name is Hayley. She was next to the Baba Yaga exhibit and she said her mother's name is Barbara."

The girl at the counter grabbed her phone. "I'll get help right over to you guys."

She tossed a worried glance over the crowded museum and then glanced back at Kamala. "Though it might be a while. When we're at this capacity, it takes a bit to get someone over here."

"That's alright," Kamala said reassuringly. "We'll keep the little one occupied until then."

Jack felt a sharp tug at his coat and he returned his attention to Hayley. "Yes?"

"How come you guys know so much about dragons?"

He knelt in front of her. "Can you keep a secret?"

She grinned and nodded vigorously. Jack looked left and right, pretending to check that no one else was listening. "Someday, we're going to bring them back."

"Really?"

"Yeah."

"Can I have one?"

Jack laughed softly. "Uh, that's probably not a good idea. But one day, when you're older, you might be watching T.V. and you'll see one on National Geographic. And I hope it won't be the only thing you see there. You might see all kinds of animals who were around a long time ago. That's what we hope to do someday."

"I'd like that."

Jack's smile widened. "Me too, kiddo."

"Tell you what," Kamala jumped in. "Why don't we give you a little history lesson about dragons while we wait for your mother?"

"Okay!"

The pair led her over to one of the plasma screen televisions against the far wall, one that stretched about seventy inches across, with a documentary on loop discussing the differences and similarities between dragons and dinosaurs. They moved towards the edge of the throng of onlookers who had gathered, watching the female Australian host who gestured towards the bones of an Allosaurus and a pre-historic dragon.

" _Most people know that the dinosaurs perished during the Cretaceous-Tertiary extinction, sometimes called the K-T event: a theory that there was a massive comet or asteroid impact that wiped out an estimated seventy-five percent of all life on Earth. The wildlife that did survive then underwent evolution and that's where we have seen most of the species of animals that now exist today, from mammals to insects to amphibians."_

She gestured towards the Allosaurus skull. _"Unfortunately for the dinosaurs, evolution decided that their design was no longer necessary. We also said g'day to most of the large species of dragon, like the infamous Baba Yaga. However, the dragons did live on through several smaller species. They ranged from being as small as some salamanders to being the size of giant squids."_

The screen switched to show tapestries, paintings, sculptures, and written texts from various cultures. _"Written records of dragons exist all over the world, from North America to China to even the good ol' outback. Based on these records, we've been able to determine that dragons continued living on until the 1400's. Because they were large predators who lived near important water sources and often preyed on children and livestock, the societies of that period encouraged knights, soldiers, mercenaries, farmers, and anyone who was able-bodied to kill them. Festivals were held for those who brought home the biggest kills, so much so that dragon-hunting was considered a thriving career choice for young men and women of the time."_

A montage of dragon's hides with their thick, brightly colored scales, skeletons, and dragon's teeth showed next. There were paintings of men and women in armor who stood beside their corpses, beaming proudly at the cheering crowds behind them. _"It's theorized that the species went extinct some time after the United States of America was founded. Even though dragons appeared on most of the major continents of the world, dragon-hunting became so prominent that often hunters would travel the land searching for them until there were none left alive."_

Hayley frowned and glanced up at the adults on either side of her. "Were dragons bad?"

"Not at all," Kamala said gently. "Nature isn't really good or bad."

"Then why did people make them go away?"

"Well, people get scared. Sometimes they want to feel safe, and to do so, they try to stop the thing that made them afraid."

"Oh." The child was silent for a moment. "That's sad."

"Yes," Kamala sighed, staring at the hollow bones of the dragon on display below the flat-screen. "It is."

She glanced back at the counter to see the girl who had called for help motioning for them to return to the desk. "Come along now."

A moment later, a stocky blonde woman in a button up shirt and slacks rushed over. "Oh my gosh, Hayley! I've been looking all over for you."

"Hi, Mom!" The girl exclaimed, waving. She then pointed to the adults on either side of her. "This is Jack! And 'Mala!"

The woman straightened after making sure the child was unhurt and offered her hand to the pair. "Thank you so much for finding her. I truly appreciate it."

"Not a problem," Kamala said. "She's a lovely child. Very bright. Bright children are often a handful."

"Don't I know it," Barbara sighed. She patted Hayley's head. "Say goodbye, Hayley."

"Bye, Jack! Bye, 'Mala!"

She took her mother's hand and walked off to rejoin their tour group. Jack exhaled and rubbed his face. "Well, that wasn't nerve-wracking. How do people have kids? Can't imagine if my munchkin was lost in a museum with this many weirdos around."

The girl behind him at the counter glared. Jack smiled toothily. "Present company excluded, of course."

The girl merely rolled her eyes and returned her attention to her computer. He waited for the inevitable barb of sarcasm from his partner, but it never came. He glanced at her and she was watching the direction that Hayley had gone in. "What?"

Kamala jumped, blinking as if he'd drawn her out of deep thought. "Huh? Nothing."

Jack pursed his lips. "You missed a prime opportunity to call me a weirdo. Something's amiss, I'd say."

"It's nothing," she said briskly, walking back towards Romer Hall. He trailed after her, raising his voice over the rabble of the crowd.

"C'mon, if you don't tell me I'm going to whine like a gigantic baby for the next hour. Don't make me use the puppy face."

"Ugh, are you truly this infantile, Jack?"

"Yes. In fact, on the count of three, I'm going to scream that I want a cookie at the top of my lungs. One...two...thr—"

Kamala whirled, clapping a hand over his mouth. She could feel the shit-eating grin that sprouted beneath her fingers. "Fine. Promise you won't laugh."

He held up three fingers, his voice muffled. "Scout's honor."

She dropped her hand and shuffled her feet a bit, brushing a lock of hair behind her ear. "I thought... you looked cute with a little one holding your hand. That speech about her watching National Geographic..." She risked a glance at him, "It was adorable."

He stared at her, speechless.

She punched him in the ribs. "Ugh, don't look at me like that! That's why I didn't want to say anything. Come on, you useless _pagal_."

Kamala stomped towards the Baba Yaga exhibit, muttering more insults in Hindi, while Jack stood there blushing and smiling like the _pagal_ she'd accused him of being.

# CHAPTER THREE

HARD DAY

**U** nsurprisingly, the pair of scientists returned to their usual lab to find Dr. Yagami at their table yet again. He had an assistant with him this time, fetching whatever equipment he needed and printing out papers on occasion. He was a notorious loner, often only accepting help from his principle investigator every month or so. However, he was noticeably more irritable this time around, and the bags under his eyes told stories of sleepless nights, not unlike their own.

After setting up, Jack took a deep breath and crossed the room. Yagami was scribbling furiously in his notebook, not bothering to look up as he approached. "Yes?"

"I was an ass yesterday," Jack said, the words sour on his tongue. "I'm sorry."

"An apology is unnecessary, Rhett. Save your breath."

"Even so. Figured I owed you that much." He paused, lowering his voice and softening his tone somewhat. "And... I'm sorry to hear about your father's health. It's got to be rough, with all that you've got going on."

Yagami peered at him over his reading glasses. "You are offering me sympathy? _You?_ "

Jack's jaw twitched. "Well, I am human."

"Who would have guessed it? I appreciate the sentiment, but I'll be fine. I've known about his illness for months. It's just the media vultures catching up with him."

"Yeah, I noticed those clowns outside when we walked in. They're still looking for you so they can get a statement. Hell, they even tried to get something out of me and Kamala."

"Freedom of the press," Yagami snorted. "Got to love this country."

"Tell me about it." Jack frowned. "Wait, did we just find something in common?"

"Yes," Yagami said dryly. "Hell must be freezing over."

"I did just feel a breeze."

Yagami nodded towards Kamala, whose fingers were practically flying across the keyboard of her laptop. "Find something new?"

"Yeah, an avenue we hadn't been taking advantage of yet. With any luck, it'll produce the results we need. The fellowship update's due in a week. This was the break we needed."

Yagami studied him and then glanced back at his notes. "How fortunate. Well, if that's all, I'd like to resume my work."

"Yep. Back to business." Jack returned to Kamala's side.

"How did it go?" she asked.

"Less painful than anticipated."

She flicked an amused glance over at him. "Maybe there is a nice guy under that Neanderthal."

He grunted. "Don't bet on it. I'm off to go pound boulders together so I can feel normal again."

"Try not to hurt yourself."

"Ugh-ugh!"

Kamala was entirely used to spending the whole day in their lab, but they were close to burning the midnight oil as of late. She'd texted Faye that the two of them were unlikely to be home in time for dinner and would instead order out. She returned from the bathroom and walked down the hallway, turning the corner only to pause as she heard a loud, furious male voice. She peeked around to see Dr. Yagami on his cell phone, his back facing her, one hand clenched into a fist as he spat Japanese back and forth with whoever was on the line. She heard his sister's name, Keiko, more than once, and she could tell the conversation was going poorly. She'd never seen him angry, not with how he seemed to approach everything with that same cold, distant disdain. Something had gone wrong. Terribly wrong.

" _Kisama!_ _Kore wa owari ja nai zo!_ " He hung up the phone and swore a couple more times before marching towards the other end of the hall, heading for the nearest exit. Kamala paused and then returned to the lab. Jack immediately noticed her change in posture, his brow flattening with worry.

"What's wrong?"

"Can I borrow your keys for a minute?"

Yagami returned from a long smoke break to find a pizza box and two beers at his desk. He frowned and popped the box open, finding a plain cheese pizza from Pinocchio's Pizzas and Subs, its heavenly scent making his mouth water in seconds.

The scientist cast a suspicious look over Kamala and Jack, who were devouring their own pizza—half mushroom and olive, half pepperoni and sausage—and sipping beers as well, casually pretending they didn't see him.

"What's this?"

Jack squinted at his desk. "Appears to be some form of sustenance. I think it's called food."

Yagami stared. "I'm aware of that. I meant why is it here?"

Kamala shrugged. "Mysteries of the universe, I guess."

Jack nodded sagely, sipping his beer. "Some things man is just not meant to know."

Dr. Yagami scowled and flipped the box closed. Then he reopened it, took a slice, and popped open a bottle before returning to his work.

Hours passed. Even Yagami packed it in around eight o'clock. Not long after nine, Jack got restless and paced behind Kamala as she finished up the last of the cells they'd painstakingly spent the day growing to be placed in the incubator. Once they were fully grown, the rNA would be sent off to verify the correct sequence, and then they'd begin the process of creating another dragon egg.

"Alright," Jack said, running a hand through his dark hair, and effectively making a few tufts stick straight up from his forehead like a peacock's feathers. "If I've got this right, then if we successfully spliced the genes between the dragon and the Komodo dragon, then we should be able to use in-vitro fertilization to implant it in one of the parthenogenesis positive female Komodo dragons. If it takes, then we'll have a successful birth."

"Correct," Kamala said, swiveling in her stool to face him. "From there, we should be able to move on to different species of dragons, and then apply the method to other types of reptiles. Eventually, with plenty of experimentation, we should be able to move on to other types of animals."

"And that's a big, fat, scary 'should.' How long until the egg will be ready?"

"A week, perhaps two."

Jack checked his watch. "Great. So, put me in a coma and I'll see you in two weeks."

"You're not getting off that easily. You're staying right here and waiting impatiently like the rest of us. Besides, we've got all this data to log and back up in the meantime, on the off chance that this works."

"Off chance?" he scoffed. "This theory came about through the genius of Dr. Kamala Anjali. You're damn right it's going to work."

She rolled her eyes. "Flattery will get you nowhere with me, Dr. Jackson."

"Yep, that's why I buy you pizza and beer instead. The way to a woman's heart is through her cholesterol levels."

"You're such a romantic, Jack." She reached up, flattening the hairs on his head, as they had begun to look like antennas. He resisted the urge to close his eyes at the brief intimacy of the gesture.

She patted his cheek briefly. "It's late. We should get going."

"Yes, I must get you back before curfew, or your roommate will try to take my head off again."

Kamala gave a start. "She _what?_ "

Jack scooped up their papers and notebooks. "She tried to punch me. Her excuse is that she wants me to teach her self-defense. She claims it's for her own good."

"Oh. Well... she could do worse."

Jack flashed her a stubborn glare. "No way."

"Come on, you'd be a good teacher and she needs some sort of outlet, other than trying to drink herself stupid every other week."

"That's what Planet Fitness is for," he groused, saving their data on the laptop and then closing it. "I'm not a martial arts instructor. I'm a scientist."

"You don't need to be a martial arts instructor. She just needs the basics. She's out by herself all the time."

"So, buy her a can of pepper spray."

"It's not the same."

He whirled on her. "Why are you pushing this?"

Kamala met his gaze, lowering her voice. "Because she broke up with her boyfriend a week ago. He got rough with her."

Jack fell silent.

"What's his name?" he asked very quietly.

"James McGruder. Not that it matters. She took care of him."

"How so?"

Kamala arched an eyebrow. "Let's just say he'll be singing soprano for a while."

Jack nodded. "Good girl."

He exhaled and rubbed his sinuses. "Well, you said we had two weeks until the egg's matured. I guess I can spend some time teaching her a few things."

"Thank you. I know you two don't exactly get along, but she could use your help. You're a good man, Jack. She hasn't had a lot of positive male influences in her life, which is why her taste in men is so poor."

"I suppose that explains why she took an interest in me."

"Clearly."

"Hey! You're not supposed to agree!"

~ * ~

Two days later, Jack sent Faye a simple text: _Alright, Daniel-san, meet me at my place at six o'clock. You'll owe me 50 pushups if you're late._ Though part of him wished she wouldn't show, sure enough, at 6:35 p.m., Faye's burgundy Honda Civic parked itself in his driveway. Jack rolled his shoulders and blew out air between pursed lips. "You're an adult. You can handle this."

He opened the door when she knocked. "You're late."

"Up yours, Miyagi. I got stuck in traffic," she said, shoving past him to walk inside. She'd dressed appropriately for once: electric blue tank top, yoga pants, and New Balance tennis shoes. Her hair was already up in a high ponytail and she didn't have any makeup on. She hung up her coat on a hanger in the hallway closet, noticing the den. He'd shoved the couch to the right wall, blocking the dining room table, and laid a plain black mat on the center of the floor. There were a couple of pairs of boxing gloves and punch mitts beside it, as well as two unopened bottles of orange Gatorade.

Jack himself wore a red sleeveless shirt and loose black basketball shorts. Cords of muscle ran down his long arms, but the shirt swallowed up any indication of musculature in his chest and abs. He considered it to be a mix between a swimmer's build and a basketball player's build—speed, but awkwardly so; strength, but poor balance.

Faye's gaze roved over him briefly. "So, this is what you look like with your hair down. Want to explain why I'm here and not at the fitness center on campus?"

"Too many distractions," he said frankly. "Plus, we won't have to shout over the noise. I'll go over the basics and then we can work on teaching you how to throw a proper punch."

She grinned. "Will you teach me that nifty arm-lock maneuver?"

He finally relaxed into a lazy smile. "If I do that, how else am I gonna subdue you?"

"Ooh," she purred, her eyes sparkling. "Subdue. I like where this is going."

Jack snorted and gestured towards the mat. "Warm up and then we'll get started."

He gave her the rundown of optimal soft targets to hit an opponent: ears, eyes, nose, groin, and feet, as well as how to do a hip-toss. Afterward, he helped her strap on the boxing gloves.

"In case you're wondering why we're doing boxing, it's because it's the easiest for a beginner to start with and it's a full body workout. You're small and you don't weigh a lot, so your speed is your biggest strength. It's also great for building endurance and relieving stress."

"Right. And it means I get to punch you a lot, which I've been dying to do."

"That as well. First, you have to get in the right stance." He adjusted her arms, the height of her hands relative to her eye line, her arms, and the width her feet were apart. He started with her footwork, instructing her to always step forward with her leading foot and bring her rear foot with her to keep balance. He continued with how to exhale as she threw a punch, and how to turn into it, and the difference in each type of punch. Once she'd gotten the hang of it, he put on the punch mitts to let her test out how it felt to land them.

"So," Jack said slowly, "James McGruder, huh?"

Faye sighed, though it came out more like a hiss. "Kamala just had to tell you, didn't she? Is that why you decided to help me? Out of pity?"

She punched the right mitt. Hard. Jack felt his palm stinging slightly. "I pity the fool that is stupid enough to pity you."

She barked out a laugh, shaking her head. "God, why is it so hard to stay mad at you?"

Jack shrugged. "It's the big doe eyes. And I don't feel sorry for you. That's not why I did this."

"Why else, then?" she asked, throwing a quick combo. "Did Kam wax on about the lack of positive male role models in my life?"

"It was mentioned, but trust me, I'm not interested in being your role model. You really shouldn't stand next to me on a cliff, for future reference."

She grinned again. "Wow, you seriously don't like me, huh?"

"You're not my favorite person right now, no. But that doesn't mean I don't care."

Faye blinked at him a couple times. She couldn't see through the careful neutrality in his gaze, but his tone had been enough.

He let the words sink in before continuing. "We don't have to see eye-to-eye or be best friends, but you're important to Kamala. She wants you around. That's why I'm here. If our project is successful, things are going to change. Drastically. You won't see her as much. So, I guess you were sort of right before, about needing to be able to take care of yourself."

Faye settled into a cool, distant stare, lowering her arms. "You are smarter than you look."

"I should hope so."

"You want to know why I never liked you?"

"Not particularly."

She snorted. "I called you the Stiff because of your focus. It's so single-minded. Nothing turns your head. I don't think you really know what you have here, with your project. It's going to change the world. The _world_ , Jack. Not just my relationship with Kam. Everything will be different. Are you ready for that?"

"I wouldn't have started the project if I wasn't."

"You say that, but I've seen the world turn nasty on a dime. I hope I'm wrong."

"So do I."

She sank back into her stance and worked through combination punches. He gave her tips here and there, until it was well after nine o'clock. They cooled down and drank the Gatorade together, leaning against the back of the couch.

"So," Faye said, "I take it you don't do casual sex."

Jack choked mid-sip. "Goddammit, Faye, you did that on purpose!"

She grinned. "Sorry, it was too easy."

He glared at her for a moment and then returned his gaze to the room. "No. I don't."

"Any particular reason why?"

He shrugged. "Just not how I am. I want sex to mean something."

"Been in a relationship before?"

He nodded. "High school. Couple girls in undergrad. One at the beginning of my doctorate program, but it went sour so badly that I wanted some space from dating for a while. Accidentally got used to being on my own, so it's been years since the last one."

He cut his eyes over at her. "What about you?"

Faye shrugged. "Sex is a sport. Play hard, win some, lose some, keep on truckin.' Not too keen on one-night stands, though I've had a few, but I don't see anything wrong with enjoying someone's company if you're attracted to them."

"That I understand, but why me? Especially since you know I, uh..." He cleared his throat, "...have a thing for Kamala."

She faced him, leaning one arm on the back of the couch, her posture relaxed. "Because you're secretly fun. I like you better when you're all worked up and frustrated, not when you're calm and collected and bookish. In my experience, it's those kinds of guys who are fantastic in bed."

Jack paused. "Kind of like the gender-flipped librarian chick fetish?"

Faye laughed. "Guess that's about right."

She sipped her Gatorade, the smile fading. "Look... if you want me to lay off, I will. I'm not stupid. If I were a guy laying it on this thick, you'd have me arrested. If you say no, I respect that and I will live with your decision, however misguided I think it might be."

"And it wouldn't bother you to sleep with me knowing that I've got a crush on your roommate?"

"Nope."

He crossed his arms. "What if she ends up reciprocating? Won't she be pissed I was sleeping with you while pining for her?"

"I don't think she would, not since she knows it's just physical. It would bother her more if I were in love with you."

"I see." He exhaled, running a hand through his hair. "To be completely honest here... yeah, I've thought about it. More than once. It's been quite a while since I've been with someone and I miss having that level of intimacy."

Jack glanced at her. "But I'm also kind of a mess. I can't keep sex and relationships separate. If I were with you, I'd be _with_ you. You'd have to put up with me as a person, not just as a—" He snorted, "—fellow athlete, I guess. And I'm not what you want, so it wouldn't be fair. I appreciate the offer, but I think we should just keep things the way they are."

Faye nodded. "Okay. Mutual disdain and thinly veiled flirting it is."

"Sounds like a plan. And while we're on the subject... why won't you tell Kamala how you feel? Why push me instead?"

Faye winced ever so slightly. Jack almost apologized, but then she answered, though rather quietly. "Because I'm not ready for whatever she's going to say. We've been friends for a couple years now. She trusts me. She depends on me, in some ways. I'm kind of like her safety net. I'm not sure it's worth it to wreck that whole thing over some undefined feelings."

She took a deep breath and the worried lines in her face vanished behind a shield of good humor and beauty. "Besides, as much as I don't care for you, I think you'd be good for her. You're loyal and sweet. She needs that more than she needs...whatever the hell I am."

"Isn't that her decision?" he asked softly.

"Probably, but..." Faye shook her head. "Like I said. I'm not ready."

She tossed him the empty Gatorade bottle, then scooped up her purse and coat, throwing a smile over her shoulder. "Thanks for the lesson, Miyagi. See you tomorrow."

"You still owe me fifty pushups."

"How about I walk out of the door slowly and you get a look at my ass in these yoga pants and we call it even?"

"...deal."

~ * ~

Fourteen days crawled by. The pair of scientists had fully thrown themselves into the new avenue of their work, spending night and day examining every inch of information, data, and research, to perfect what they hoped would be the successful implantation. Through vigorous favors and negotiations, they managed to find a viable candidate for the IVF: a Komodo dragon named Sarah, loaned to them from a wildlife reservation. Once she checked out, the procedure was scheduled for early morning on the sixteenth day at the veterinary hospital.

They stood behind the observation glass; Jack gnawing straight through his thumbnail, Kamala pacing back and forth behind him, muttering things in Hindi. They watched and listened to the procedure without any commentary between each other, mostly because they were on the same trepidatious page.

After a few grueling hours, the head surgeon strolled over to the mic, his face unreadable through the mask. Jack absently reached over and Kamala took his free hand without hesitation as he pressed down on the intercom.

"What's the verdict?"

"Mazel tov. The implantation was successful. It's all up to Sarah from here."

"Yes!" Kamala pounced into Jack's arms, hugging him tight. He spun her around once and then hit the intercom button again, gushing his thanks into it.

"Well," Jack beamed at his partner afterward. "I think it's time to get rip-roaring drunk in celebration."

She chuckled, her cheeks burning from the smile she couldn't wipe off her face. "Our job isn't done yet. The parthenogenesis still has to take place. Plus, there's tons of data to log since the procedure went well. Matt's going to want an update."

"Yeah, I'll get on that. Once I'm sober again."

She smacked him in the arm. "One drink. Then we get back to work, Dr. Jackson."

"Yes ma'am, Dr. Anjali."

After they filled in the P.I. on their progress, Kamala bought them both beers at a nearby gas station and they sat on the rear of her car, legs swinging, drinking and watching their alcohol-laced breath fog up the cold morning air.

"So, what are you going to do with your millions after we're rich and famous?" Jack asked.

"I'm buying a castle."

He sputtered, glancing at her in shock. "Pardon?"

She arched an eyebrow. "Have you seen how much those go for? Pennies compared to the penthouses in Los Angeles or New York. I'm thinking Scotland, Italy, or France. Somewhere I can be left alone."

"Castles get drafty. You sure about that?"

"Yeah," she said, her brown eyes slightly distant. "I'll have all the space I need to roar. To read. To write. To learn. Find out who I really am when I'm not buried under all this work."

A brief silence fell. She realized he hadn't said anything and glanced at him. "What?"

"Nothing," he said, staring at his shoes. "I just wanted a Lamborghini. Now I feel shallow. Can't believe you're gonna ditch me to live overseas."

She patted his knee. "Don't worry. I'll look for an adjacent castle so that we can be neighbors."

"Ha. You'll regret that when I walk outside on the parapet in the nude."

She wrinkled her nose. "Mm. I'll make sure it's not too close then. We'll have morning walks with our pet dragons and then take some tea with the in-laws."

"Right. Not sure you could get my father on a plane to Europe. Ma wouldn't mind, though. She's always wanted to travel."

Kamala squeezed his arm. "I still want you to invite her out here for the birth."

He tensed. "Not sure that's a good idea."

"Jack. This is your life's work. She'd love to see it."

"It's not her. It's my Dad. He and I are potassium and water. She won't want to go without him. We can't be in the same room without it turning into a verbal UFC match."

"Then feed him to the dragon and be done with it."

Jack smirked wryly, finishing his beer. "Maybe if we bred Baba Yaga. Otherwise, poor thing won't have a chance."

She tried to say more, but he slid off the car and then helped her down, nodding towards the street. "Let's get going. We can't spit in the face of Mother Nature if we're schnockered."

The pair grabbed breakfast on the way to the lab and found yet another unexpected guest accompanying Dr. Yagami. Like Jack, Yagami wore mostly button-up shirts, slacks, and dress shoes. His companion stood out stark against the pristine halls at six-foot-three, his broad shoulders encased in a black leather trench coat, his hair rakishly oiled back into spikes except for a stray cowlick. Beneath his left arm was a suspicious bulge—and Jack immediately strode a couple steps in front of Kamala when he noticed—and a black t-shirt with a white kanji dripping down the front. Strong muscular legs in leather pants that matched the coat and combat boots finished the ensemble. He didn't appear to be older than Yagami; a couple of years younger, in fact. His grizzled jaw was square and clenched tight as he exchanged terse words with Yagami in between puffs of a cigarette.

Their conversation quieted as the pair came within earshot, and the stranger cast a bored look over Jack. His brown eyes immediately lit up as he spotted Kamala and he smirked, his gaze lingering over her chest and legs.

"Ah, _aniki_ , tell me you know who this lovely lady is?"

"Dr. Kamala Anjali," Yagami told his friend impatiently. "She and Dr. Jackson are working in the field of biological engineering."

The stranger offered his hand and she took it. " _Kireina, ojō-sama. Hajimemashite_."

She nodded to him. " _Hajimemashite_. And you are?"

"Kazuma Okegawa." He clapped a hand on Yagami's shoulder. "Yagi-kun and I go way back."

"I see. What brings you here?"

Okegawa's smile suddenly seemed rather pointy. "Business."

"Is that right?" Kamala didn't disguise the skepticism in her tone.

" _Hai_. Things are getting a bit hairy with his _otō-san_ and _imōto-chan_ , so I came over to lend a hand as his advisor."

Dr. Yagami knocked his friend's hand away. "Kazu, this is not the time, nor the place. I told you, I have it under control. Go home."

Okegawa rolled his eyes. "Can't believe you're still so uptight. Fine. I'll meet you tonight for dinner. Take me somewhere nice, _ne_?"

"Fine." Yagami opened the door to the lab and disappeared. Okegawa stared after him, shaking his head, and then smiled at Kamala again.

"Until the next time, _ojō-sama_."

"Same. And for the record, you're not supposed to smoke in here."

He chuckled, spewing one more mouthful of smoke, and then snuffed the cigarette out in a nearby water fountain before leaving.

Kamala watched him go warily and then nudged Jack. "You okay?"

"Oh, I was just wondering if I should use my invisibility powers for good or evil." He opened the lab door for her.

"I'll be sure to alert the women's locker room."

"Hey! I'd never do that... more than once..."

Once more, Yagami wasn't alone. He had two assistants this time, and he wasn't at the microscope; instead, he stood at the white board writing out equations and barking instructions to the interns. Jack felt his hackles rise at the electrified air in the room. Things seemed to have taken a turn for the worse in his project.

"Ah, I think we should make this a quick session today," Kamala murmured as she set her stuff down at their usual desk.

"Agreed." They got started, keeping their distance, and it managed to work for a few hours.

Around one o'clock, one of the female assistants accidentally erased an equation to write something else down, and Dr. Yagami launched into a scathing rant at her expense.

"You'll make a McDonalds manager very happy someday," he snarled, snatching the eraser out of her hand. "Get out of my sight."

She fled. Jack and Kamala exchanged glances. She set down her pen and stood, walking over to the white board where he was replacing the equation.

"Dr. Yagami, might I have a word with you in private?"

"Save it," he growled. "I don't have time for any of your witty repartee."

"Doctor," she said softly. "You just rudely dismissed someone who was only trying to help you. A volunteer, no less. For a minor offense. You're not thinking clearly."

"I'm clear-minded enough to know I don't need useless people working for me."

"And no one will want to work for you when you're being irrational and flying off the handle at any provocation."

He shot a glare at her. "What the hell do you care? Aren't you busy trying to save the world with your dragons?"

Kamala crossed her arms and stared at him. He kept glaring, but after a moment or two, he broke off the eye contact and rubbed his sinuses. "Fine. I will take a smoke break."

"Good. I'll join you."

"You don't smoke."

Kamala smiled slowly. "Cigarettes? No, I don't."

She walked past him and held the door open. Dr. Yagami blinked at her, but followed. Five minutes later, they were sitting on a railing at one of the back entrances, passing a blunt back and forth between them.

"This is absolutely not going to help my work in any way," Yagami said mildly, handing the bud back to her.

"Me neither. But at least it will mellow you out enough that you aren't screaming obscenities at interns."

"Where the hell did you get weed anyway?"

Kamala shrugged. "Faye. She likes to have a little when she's got a big project due. It's healthier than drinking."

"Why did you have it with you?"

"Because Jack and I are both stressed out."

He cast a sidelong glance at her as she offered it to him after she'd taken another hit. "You can read that behemoth's emotional states? Incredible."

She rolled her eyes. "The behemoth is one of the smartest men I've ever met."

Yagami grunted. "He's got no imagination. The focus of his project is woefully naïve."

"That's science. We do all we can in a world we can never hope to truly understand. It's for the good of the environment, which we have to thank for this little smoke break. Cut him some slack."

"Whatever you say."

"And anyway, I didn't bring you out here to talk about Jack. What's going on?"

Yagami sighed, rubbing his face with one hand, the blunt clutched between his first and second finger, scowling. "We had a major setback in the project. I'm looking at two, three months of revisions and additional experiments to counteract it. The fellowship deadline is a month out and there's virtually no way to eliminate the extra time I'll have to spend getting us in the right direction. If I don't produce the results, the last two years of my life will have been spent in vain."

She touched his shoulder tentatively. "I'm sorry."

He shook his head and inhaled, holding it for several seconds before exhaling harshly. "I don't need sorry. I don't need anything but to return to my work. I have to get this done. There is no other choice."

"It's not just about the project, is it? What's going on with your family?"

He smoked for a while, staring out at the trees. "My father's dying. Lung cancer."

Kamala sighed. "How long?"

"A year, maybe more if he's lucky. Keiko convinced him to write me out of the will. I'm completely cut off, all because I refused to take over the company."

"It's that bloody important to him?"

"Apparently."

She balled her hands into fists. "Bastard. Is there any hope that you can change his mind?"

"Doubtful. All the drugs he's on keep him unstable. Without my mother around to be the voice of reason, it's likely going to be permanent." He snorted. "The sad thing is... I've got money. I'd want for nothing. But it's insulting. Once it goes public, I'll be seen as the disgraced son with nothing more to show than a failed attempt at being a scientist."

"You haven't failed yet."

"Hmph. How does that phrase go? 'It's all over but the crying,' I believe?"

"Giving up is failure. Everything else up until that point is merely an inconvenience."

He regarded her again. "You're not bad company, you know. I see why Rhett is so attached to you."

She hopped down onto the walkway, grinning. "I have that effect on people. Take your time finishing that. Hope it helped."

He allowed a miniscule smirk to touch his lips. "Somewhat."

"Good." She went back inside and visited the ladies' room, briefly applying her heavy spiced perfume to hide the smell before returning to the lab.

Jack didn't look up when she returned to the desk. "Shake and bake?"

"Yes."

"Think it worked?"

"Only time will tell."

"Any left for me?"

"Why, Jack, when have I ever left you out to dry?"

"Atta girl."

~ * ~

Jack had never been the type to wake up gracefully, but it was even less so when he was awakened by his phone screaming, "Son of a bitch!" at six o'clock in the morning.

"Ack!" he cried, and promptly lurched towards the vibrating device currently belting out the lyrics to Nathaniel Ratecliff and the Night Sweats' "S.O.B." Unfortunately, the momentum took him right over the edge of his bed and he landed unceremoniously on the carpet.

Groaning, he reached a long arm up to the nightstand and answered the phone with a partly angry, partly winded, "Yes?"

"Dr. Jackson," a male voice said. "Sorry to wake you."

Jack flopped onto his back and nursed his stinging ribs. "No, 's totally fine. Who is this again?"

"Dr. Thorne. I'm the one responsible for the physical exam of your komodo dragon, Sarah."

"Ah. Right. Salutations, doctor. What can I do for you?"

"I, uh, think you and Dr. Anjali might need to come take a look at something."

Jack sat up, his blood ice-cold slush in his veins. "Oh God. What happened? Did her body reject the implantation? Was she hurt by another animal? Did she bite someone?"

"No. The implantation didn't hurt her at all. In fact, the parthenogenesis was also a success, but that's not why I called."

"Why are you calling?"

"The eggs have already started gestating."

Jack went silent.

"...Dr. Jackson? You there?"

"Hold on a second." He lowered the phone and glanced around the room, locating the baseball bat underneath his bed. He flipped it around and then leveled it over his shin.

Then he whacked himself with it.

"Jesus H. Christ on a pogo stick!"

"Dr. Jackson? Are you alright?"

Jack rubbed his throbbing shinbone. "Yeah, I just had to make sure I was actually awake. Did you just say the eggs started gestating? Are you sure it's Sarah?"

"She's the only Komodo dragon in the veterinary hospital," Dr. Thorne said, and his tone sounded so dry it could have made a home in the Sahara desert. "I'm telling you, her eggs are already in the sixteen-cell stage. That's why I need you and Dr. Anjali to come down and verify what I'm seeing, because frankly, I can't account for a komodo dragon accelerating through several stages of cell development in only twenty-four hours."

"How in perfect blue hell is that possible?"

"Like I said, Dr. Jackson. You need to come take a look."

"Be there faster than you can say jack rabbit." He hung up and leapt to his feet, ignoring the sharp pain lancing through his left leg as he hobbled towards his closet.

~ * ~

"Jack?"

"Yes, Kamala?"

"Pinch me."

"Yes, doctor."

"Ow!" She smacked him in the shoulder as he grinned and drew his hand away from her backside. "That is not funny."

"What? You didn't say where."

She rolled her eyes. "So, you've lost your mind. I guess I'd better ask someone else what the hell is going on."

"Sorry. I am of sound mind, I promise. Or as much as I usually am." He examined the sonogram clipped to the lit board, one hand folded over his mouth as he squinted at it. "Honestly, Kam, I'm at a loss for words. How can she possibly be this far along? Did we miss something?"

Kamala shook her head. "We were precise. Utterly and totally precise with the cells we grew. I've never seen anything like this in all my years as a scientist. The only thing I can think of is that the dragon DNA that we recreated has some sort of genetic mutation. No one knows the gestation period of these creatures. They died out in medieval times. Perhaps this is normal for them."

"Maybe," he said, frowning. "But what concerns me is if it's going to take a toll on Sarah. What if her body can't cope with the rapid growth of the fetuses? We don't want a _Breaking Dawn_ situation on our hands."

Kamala stared flatly at him. Jack shuffled his feet, blushing and clearing his throat. "I, uh, couldn't sleep the other night and it was on, alright?"

She rolled her eyes again. "We'll keep a close eye on her, then. Daily checkups. There has to be some way to account for this phenomenon."

"Yeah. But that's not the scariest part."

She blinked at him. "What is?"

"Kam, if she's already at a sixteen-cell stage of pregnancy in twenty-four hours... how long until the birth?"

# CHAPTER FOUR

THRESHOLD

"This is a bad idea."

"Really? I couldn't tell, even though you said it five hundred times on the way here."

"I'm merely preparing you for the inevitable disaster. I want it on record that I said this is a bad idea."

"Duly noted, Jack."

He leaned his lanky frame back against Kamala's Volkswagen and thumped the base of his skull against the roof of the car a few times. Kamala was also leaning on it, her brown eyes scanning the bustling travelers sweeping past them at Logan Airport's pick up area. She checked her watch. They had only been here a few minutes, but if their party didn't arrive soon, the cops would boot them out of their temporary space and they'd have to circle back around. Their guests were late.

She listened to the steady _thunk_ of Jack hitting his head on the roof, and then stuck her hand inside the outer pocket of his coat. She slipped her warm fingers through his cold ones and squeezed once. He stopped hitting his head on the roof finally, but his sour disposition didn't soften any.

A moment later, a plump brunette woman dressed in a conch-shell pink peasant blouse and khakis underneath a mahogany leather coat, walked through the glass doors, her hazel eyes flicking around at the cars lining the curb. They settled on Jack and instantly filled with warmth. She smiled, and dimples puckered at her cheeks.

Jack rose to his full height and reluctantly let go of Kamala's hand, stepping forward to walk towards the woman. He stopped about a foot away and shifted his weight, a shy grin touching his lips.

"Hey, stranger," the woman said softly.

"Hey, stranger," he replied just as softly.

She let her gaze roll over him from head to toe, eventually settling on his face. "Still ain't eatin' enough, huh?"

Jack shrugged. "Oh, I eat. Just doesn't stick to my bones."

"Same old, same old. Good to see you, kiddo." She wrapped her arms around him and he did the same, kissing the top of her head.

"Good to see you, Ma."

They stayed there for a long moment, and then he drew back. "Where is he?"

"Oh, he had to stop at the john. He'll be along in a second." She peeked around his shoulder and her smile widened. "Is that her?"

"Yeah."

"She's gorgeous. You never mentioned that."

"Wasn't relevant."

She eyed him. "Since when?"

Jack groaned. "Don't you start."

She shook her head disapprovingly and started towards the Volkswagen, her hand extended. "You must be Kamala. I'm Edith. Call me Edie."

Kamala shook her hand. "It's so nice to finally meet you, Edie. Truly a pleasure."

"Pleasure's all mine, honey. I can't thank you enough for what you've done, taking care of him since I'm not around." She paused. "Well, putting up with him, to be honest. Rhett can be a handful when he wants to be."

"Ma," Jack said warningly. "We talked about this. How you weren't going to do the whole 'embarrassing parent' schtick?"

Edie pouted. "Who says I agreed? That's how you should gauge how much I love you. How will you ever know unless I tell Kamala here every single humiliating story about you that I've witnessed?"

Kamala grinned. "Oh, please do. I could use something else to torture him with."

They shared a giggle as Jack's cheeks heated up a bit. "And he still blushes like a little school girl. I swear, it's the cutest thing in the world."

"There's that word again," he sighed. "Can we get going already?"

"My sentiment exactly."

A gravelly voice spoke from behind Jack, and it made his spine snap straight at attention. There was just a hint of a Southern accent in it, and though it was soft, he knew the texture and hardness underneath the tone. It had always reminded him of granite, as if the syllables that dropped from that mouth were always a dark, murky grey.

Jack turned around to find a tall, brown-but-peppered-with-grey haired, sun-tanned man wearing a blue-and-green plaid shirt, jeans, boots, and a leather jacket. He had a suit bag and two suitcases with him, and his blue eyes held none of the warmth that Edie's had. Or maybe that was just Jack's imagination.

"Rhett," Richard Jackson said, nodding to him. "Nice to see you."

Jack nodded back. "Same. How was the flight?"

"Not too bad. Mind getting the bags?"

"No, sir." Jack took them from him and popped the trunk, carefully tucking them inside it and casting a careful eye over the three of them as Kamala stepped forward.

"I'm Kamala Anjali," she said, offering her hand. "Nice to meet you, Mr. Jackson."

He shook it once. "Name's Richard. No need for the formalities."

"Well, that's a relief. Jack's told me a lot about you."

Richard cocked an eyebrow upward. "Jack? Who the hell is Jack?"

Kamala licked her lips, startled. "Ah, Rhett, that is."

The older man glanced at his son. "That what you're going by these days?"

Jack shut the trunk a little harder than necessary. "It's a nickname."

"I see." He glanced at his watch and then gestured towards the car. "We should get going. Isn't your thing happening soon?"

"My thing," Jack laughed bitterly under his breath. "Right." He walked around towards the front passenger's side and opened it. "Ma, why don't you ride up front with Kam?"

"Thank you, honey." She slipped inside and Kamala went around to the driver's seat, firing up the car. Jack and Richard climbed stiffly into the back and she pulled into the flow of traffic to head towards their hotel.

"I saw you on the news," Edie said, grinning over her shoulder at her son. "You looked so handsome. The family blew up my phone after they heard the announcement. They're all clamoring to see you this week."

"Might be a little hard," Jack admitted. "If things go right today, the press is going to be all over us like a pack of locusts. We'll be swamped with interviews and then we'd have to get the project published as soon as possible."

"I'm sure it will. I didn't raise a dummy, and Kamala here is sharp as a knife. The whole world is going to love what you've done."

Jack snorted. "Most of it. That interview got the Bible thumpers worked into a frenzy. They've been picketing the lab most days, claiming that we're creating an abomination that will destroy us all, even though the species of dragon we bred is seriously only the size of an iguana in its adult stage."

"Some people are small-minded," Edie said. "They'll come around."

"Maybe," Jack murmured, staring out the window.

"That reminds me. Why weren't you in that interview, Kamala?"

"It was at my request," she admitted. "I wanted it to be Rhett's moment, since he's the one who began this project and did most of the groundwork before I joined him. Besides, sometimes the media doesn't respond positively to a woman of color in the spotlight. I didn't want to draw any more negative attention."

"That's a damn shame," Edie said, frowning. "I can't believe anyone would think less of you or this project for such a superficial reason."

Kamala shrugged. "They'll either evolve or die. That's nature."

Edie grinned. "I like you already, hon. So, were your folks able to make it out here for the birth?"

"Yes. They got in about an hour ago. They're going to meet us there."

"Great. I can't wait to meet them. Any siblings?"

"No. Only child, but I have a big family nonetheless."

"Husband?"

"Ma," Jack said sharply.

Kamala chuckled. "No. There will be plenty of time to start a family later. I'm in no hurry."

Edie sent a teasing look over her shoulder. "Why does that sound familiar?"

He sighed. "I'm not even thirty yet. What's the rush?"

"I just want some grandkids to spoil before you become a world-renowned scientist and have no time for your poor old mother."

"You are neither poor nor old."

She pursed her lips. "Don't try to get back on my good side, mister."

Jack flashed her a cheeky grin. "All your sides are good sides."

"Ugh!" She threw up her hands and faced front again. "Incorrigible."

Kamala and Edie continued getting to know each other as they drove to the hotel while the two Jackson men sat silent, both looking out at the city. Jack shut his eyes and let their voices soothe his jangled nerves. He hadn't been this close to his father since the past Thanksgiving. He'd forgotten how he smelled of earth and sawdust, and how those scents sent whirlwinds of childhood memories spiraling through his mind. He remembered the bumpy unpaved roads of Greenville, Georgia and the endless fields of grass spotted with the occasional cow. He remembered sitting in the back of their beat-up truck reading a dog-eared Octavia Butler novel, his mother humming Johnny Cash songs under her breath along with the radio, and his father talking about all the work they had to do that day. Their fluffy faithful Maremma, D'Artagnan, had his head out the window and thumped his tail against Jack's lap occasionally. The dog's name had been Jack's idea, of course. His father had rolled his eyes, but accepted it, choosing to call him "Dart" for short.

"We'll be back around one to pick you up," Jack promised once he'd opened the passenger's side door for his mother at the curb in front of their hotel. "If our projections are right, that's when they'll start to hatch. Don't be late."

Edie held his large hands in her own, her voice soft. "I wouldn't miss it for the world, sweetheart. See you in a bit."

She gave him a peck on the cheek and waved cheerily to Kamala, before taking Richard's arm and walking into the hotel lobby. Jack watched them until they disappeared in the crowd and let out a breath, climbing back into the car.

"You did good," Kamala mused, pulling around to return to the street. "Thought your head was going to explode for a second there, but you held off. I'm impressed."

"Don't be."

Kamala shifted in her seat a bit. "So, your father was awfully monosyllabic."

Jack grunted. "It's for the best, trust me."

"Is he not a fan of your career choice?"

"That's inaccurate."

"How so?"

"I think he'd have preferred that I became a prima ballerina to a scientist."

She gawked at him momentarily. "Bloody hell. Why?"

"Dad's a simple guy. Works with his hands. Very literal person. He's not much for books and higher education. He thinks I'm just theorizing life instead of living it."

"Even after all you've accomplished in this field?"

Jack shrugged. "What's one more animal brought into the world? He helps breed calves, goats, and sheep for a living. It isn't mind-blowing to him in those terms."

"You're resurrecting an extinct species for the betterment of mankind."

"Tomato, to-mato."

Kamala shook her head. "No wonder you're so stubborn."

" _Hey_."

"Hey is for horses. Let's go pick up Faye and grab breakfast."

"Great. As if this morning couldn't get any worse."

"Shush or I'm not buying you a blueberry scone."

"...yes ma'am."

~ * ~

"If you mess with your hair one more time, I'm gonna break your hand."

Jack shot Faye a dirty look. "Try it and die, blondie."

She smirked. "Well, you did teach me how to punch."

"I can still break your arm in five places."

She waggled her eyebrows. "Ooh, I like it when you talk dirty. Say something else horrifically violent."

He rolled his eyes. "Any chance you're gonna muzzle yourself when you meet my folks?"

"Doubtful. But since this is your big day, maybe I'll make an exception." She reached up and straightened his blue-and-white paisley tie, her lids lowered over her topaz eyes, smiling gently.

"Congrats, Jack. Really. You've earned this, so try to enjoy it, okay?"

He eyed her. "I'm waiting for the punch line."

She patted his cheek. "Even I can be sincere sometimes."

"What about your folks? Any last minute changes to their schedules?"

Faye shook her head. "It's still summer. Mom won't be stateside until she's done in Milan showing off her newest clothing line. Dad sent Kamala a congratulations card. He's pretty useless when it comes to understanding when something's actually important."

She turned just in time to see Kamala return from the restroom. Like Jack, she'd dressed up for the occasion in a smart black pin-striped suit with a canary yellow blouse beneath it. She had her lab coat flung over her forearm, and her heels clicked on the linoleum as she approached. She'd left the nose stud in on purpose, just to feel more like herself.

"I see you two didn't kill each other while I was gone. I'm proud of you."

"Didn't want to get his blood all over my new dress," Faye said with a dramatic sigh, swishing the hem of her sapphire-hued Ralph Lauren attire. "Your folks en route?"

"Yes, the taxi just dropped them off. They'll be here any second."

Jack ran his hands through his hair again. Kamala arched an eyebrow at his fidgeting. "What's with you?"

Jack opened his mouth, but Faye answered for him. "He's nervous about meeting your parents."

"I most certainly am not," he growled, glaring daggers.

Kamala covered her mouth, hiding a smile. "You aren't, are you?"

"No. We're about to unveil the resurrection of an extinct relative to a dinosaur. So, I'm a little tense. Sue me."

"Right. Of course. Is that why your face is red?"

"Y'know what, I'm feeding both of you to the dragons when they hatch."

The girls both shared a laugh while he scowled. Just then, the hallway doors parted, revealing Daeshim and Sahana Anjali.

Daeshim was tall and cut an intimidating figure with sharp cheekbones and a deeply furrowed brow. His dark hair was neat and parted to one side, leaving a slight curl to the forelock above his right eyebrow. He had a thin mustache around a mouth that seldom smiled. He wore a black suit and white dress shirt beneath it, with a deep purple tie.

Sahana could have easily passed for Kamala's sister from a distance away. She too was of diminutive stature, but her beauty was more noticeable than her height. She wore a modest floor-length wrap dress of the same purple as her husband's tie and a lavender headdress with a silver Tikka glittering between her delicate brows.

They glided over and gave Jack and Faye both faintly interested once-overs, before Kamala nodded to them in greeting. "Welcome. Glad you could make it."

"Happy to be here," Daeshim said in a soft, deep voice. "It's been too long."

"Yes. Much too long, _beti,_ " Sahana said, hugging her daughter. She gestured towards Jack and Faye.

"Am I to presume these are the friends we have heard so much about?"

"Yes," Kamala answered. "This is Faye Worthington and Dr. Rhett Jackson."

They shook hands. "Nice to meet you."

"These are my parents, Dr. Daeshim and Dr. Sahana Anjali."

"Pleasure to meet you."

Daeshim glanced at the lab, which was bustling with activity. Through the window, the incubator was visible, casting a red glow over much of the room. Six eggs, each one ovular and about the size of an ostrich egg, sat underneath a heat lamp. "I take it from the group gathered outside that we're going to begin soon?"

"Yes," Jack said. "We didn't want the press to fill up the place before our personal guests arrived. After my folks and our Principle Investigator, Matt, gets here, we'll begin the observation."

"This is quite the medical marvel," Sahana said, peeking around her husband's shoulder and into the window of the lab. "It could move the biological engineering field decades into the future if it works. What is the practical application?"

"Eventually, we hope to be able to rebuild the population of endangered species."

Daeshim lifted an eyebrow. "Is that all? You are not interested in applying this process towards human subjects?"

Jack shook his head. "No disrespect to your practice, sir, but I have no interest in human genetics and cloning. That's above my pay grade, frankly."

"Interesting," he said, narrowing his brown eyes slightly. "Either way, I assure you that someone will come calling with that purpose in mind. Perhaps you should reconsider."

With that, he opened the door to the lab and ushered his wife inside. "We'll see you when you're ready."

"Wow," Faye murmured after they'd gone. "Direct, aren't they?"

"You have no idea," Kamala sighed. "This had better work, or I'll never hear the end of it."

"You and me both," Jack said. He took a deep breath and nodded towards the hallway doors. "Should I tell the vultures they can come in?"

"Wait." Kamala reached up and smoothed his hair down. "Now you can."

He grumbled something under his breath and strode for the doors. Faye elbowed her roommate in the side, smirking. "Look at our little boy. All grown up."

"Yes," Kamala said with a soft, fond smile. "He is."

~ * ~

"Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen. This is Dr. Kamala Anjali and I am Dr. Rhett Jackson." He paused. "Miss Jackson, if you're nasty." Several chuckles circulated through the room. "All kidding aside, thank you for taking time out of your busy schedules to attend the unveiling of what we hope is a small pack of animals that haven't been seen since the early 15th century. Dragons are one of the most mysterious reptiles on the planet. We've all been told fairytales as children about their abilities and mythical powers, but today, we hope to understand the hard science behind the legends. The species we bred is _varanus lacerto_. We were able to successful splice its DNA with its closest living relative, the Komodo dragon, and then we implanted the egg into our lovely subject Sarah, who was kind enough to give birth to our subjects here, all of which are female according to the ultrasound imaging. Those of you in the scientific community who have been watching this project know the surprising results we achieved, but for the newcomers, Sarah's pregnancy lasted a whopping thirty days."

Someone let out a long whistle and the room filled with faint laughter again. "Yes, it's extremely unusual and we've been studying the anomaly quite closely. In any case, it's been a long road, but we hope that we can use this technology to repair the ecological and environmental damage that has been done over the last century. Now, try not to get twitchy, but there is no exact time when they'll hatch. An hour ago, Dr. Anjali and I checked for heartbeats and vital signs, and the data suggests they'll break out of their shells around this time. Be patient. Trust me, no one's waited for this longer than the two of us. With that, please make yourselves comfortable and wait for the magic hour."

A polite round of applause rippled through the room and the pair broke away from the crowd, which diffused to different parts of the lab for a good view. Jack and Kamala donned their rubber gloves and flipped off the heat lamps, letting the eggs cool a bit before getting out their stethoscopes.

"Moment of truth," Jack murmured under his breath, stooping and placing the stethoscope's diaphragm against the nearest egg.

And he heard nothing.

Frowning, he placed it against another part of the egg, further down. No heartbeat. He moved it a third time. Still nothing.

He tapped the diaphragm against his palm a few times to confirm that it was working and moved to the egg next to it, his heart ricocheting off his ribcage with frantic beats. Silence.

"Kamala?" he asked weakly, glancing across the table at her. "Come here."

She walked over, her voice low. "What's wrong?"

"I don't hear anything. Go on. Listen."

She popped the ear pieces to her stethoscope in and lowered the diaphragm towards an egg. She paused, eyes closed, concentrating. She opened them a moment later, her face slack with disbelief. "It's... gone. I can't hear it either."

"This can't be right," Jack muttered. "We checked them an hour ago and they were fine. We haven't changed any variables. They can't all be gone just like that. Check the others."

They switched off. Jack examined the three eggs on one side of the table and Kamala checked the other three. They spent ten minutes turning them over and feeling them for weak spots or signs of life, but there were none.

Jack shook his head slowly. "No. This isn't happening. This can't be happening."

Kamala came to his side, touching his arm gently. "Jack, look at me. Calm down. We don't have all the facts yet. Maybe they've gone catatonic and they just need some sort of stimulus to get their vitals up again."

He pressed his hands to the table and tried to breathe, nodding. "Right. It's not over until it's over. I'll swing past the veterinary hospital and see if they can spare an epi-pen. A small injection might do the trick. Stay here and watch them, will you?"

"Of course." She closed her hand over his briefly and then let him go. Then, she turned towards their group of spectators and forced on a smile.

"Ladies and gentlemen, there has been a slight delay in our schedule..."

Jack returned in a little under half an hour later with two shots of adrenaline. He and Kamala measured the amounts as carefully as possible and injected them into each of the eggs, in the nutrient sacs where the reptiles drew their sustenance. They waited.

Forty agonizing minutes.

"They're gone," Jack whispered. "I don't... I don't understand. They were right here, Kam. What did I miss?"

She squeezed his hand. "Jack, this isn't your fault. Maybe something went wrong and their health destabilized while we were out."

"All that work," he said hoarsely. "Years' worth. Just like that. Gone."

He shook his head again. "I shouldn't have dragged you into this."

"You didn't drag me into anything. I chose this. I chose you." She caught his chin and made him face her. Fierce brown eyes blazed at him. "And I'd do it again in a heartbeat."

"This kind of thing can end a career. Let me take the blame. Please."

"It's my career to end. We tell them together. End of story."

He shut his eyes at her words, shuddering slightly. "I'm so sorry."

"We'll find our way again. I promise." She stroked the side of his face before turning towards the increasingly uneasy spectators around them.

"Ladies and gentlemen," Jack said after clearing his throat. "I'm afraid that something's happened. Our hatchlings have flat-lined. They're... they're gone."

A frigid hush fell over the room. The lead reporter stepped forward. "They're dead?"

Kamala nodded grimly. "Stillborn. We're not sure how, but we've tried everything to resuscitate them and nothing has worked. I'm afraid we've lost them."

Edie's hands rose to her mouth, and her eyes fell on her son. "Oh, honey."

"You've got to be kidding me," the reporter moaned. "I got pulled off a hot lead at the Mayor's office for this crap and you're telling me the whole thing's off? Get a defibrillator and bring the little bastards back to life."

"Watch it," Jack said very quietly.

"No, _you_ watch it, pal. Everyone's been talking about you like you're gonna save the world and yet here we are with nothing to show for it."

Jack stepped forward, gritting his teeth. "No one put a gun to your head and told you to come here. That's three years of my life lying on that table over there, _dead_. Cry me a fucking river."

Kamala gripped his arm. "Jack."

The reporter snorted, not backing down even though Jack practically towered over him. "This was just a publicity stunt, wasn't it? Something to get MIT some attention, since that's where all the washed-up scientists go to spin their wheels and pretend like they're making a difference. What's the matter? The real world too much for you?"

"The real world?" Jack laughed bitterly. "You're about to find out how real the world can get."

"Jack!"

"No, let him go, sweetheart. This'll look good on the front page. I can see the headline now: 'Failed Scientist Socks Award-Winning Reporter for Hurting His Feelings.'"

Jack grabbed two handfuls of the guy's shirt and a couple of people darted between them, shouting for them to cool off and separate.

Crack.

Jack froze.

Crrrraaaaaaack.

He craned his neck slowly towards the table.

The furthest egg to the left had a fracture running down the length of it.

Crick-crack.

The egg wiggled once, twice. The fracture widened.

Jack and Kamala stumbled towards the table together, their eyes transfixed on the tremors going through the lone egg. A moment later, a tiny green snout poked through a hole in the top and embryonic fluid oozed outward.

Jack snatched up a box of gloves and handed it to Kamala, snapping a pair on, and then reached a shaking hand towards the creature. He lifted the small piece of shell that the dragon had stuck on his snout and watched slack-jawed as it sneezed and pushed its glistening, spindly limbs out. It was the size of a large gecko. The scales were leafy-green over most of its body, with paler shades along its belly, and dark green splotches along its spine. It had four limbs like a normal lizard, but two thin yellow membrous wings stuck out from its shoulders. Its head bore similarities to a bird, with a triangular head with bright eyes, its pupils thin slits like a snake. Each foot ended in pinpricks of claws and it had a set of needle-like teeth just barely poking out of its gums.

"Kamala?"

"Yes?"

"You're seeing this, right?"

"I am."

Jack let out a thready, borderline manic giggle as the young dragon wobbled on its legs and let out a needy chirp, its yellow eyes focusing on the two of them after a moment. Jack cupped one hand and brought it forward slowly, his deep voice soothing.

"Hey there, buddy. Welcome to the party. Nice timing."

The dragon chirped a couple more times and sniffed his fingers one by one. It nipped them, coughed, and then crawled clumsily into his arms. Kamala handed him a small towel and cleaned the little reptile off, smiling as it nuzzled its head against her touch.

"She's beautiful, Jack," she whispered. "What should we call her?"

"Pete."

She choked on laugh. "You're such a sap. Hello, Pete. Welcome to MIT."

~ * ~

Getting privacy for a living, breathing dragon—the first anyone had seen since the 1400's—was no small feat, but eventually Jack and Kamala were granted some alone time after scores and scores of photos and questions after the unveiling in the lab. They swaddled her up and drove to the veterinary hospital to start the physical examination, and the head doctor cleared out an exam room for them after plenty of 'oohs' and 'aahs' from the staff and students.

"Ready?" Jack asked as Kamala set up her laptop.

"Ready," she said, adjusting the webcam and tapping the Record button.

Jack set the dragon down on the exam table. The reptile wriggled its way out of the blanket and immediately began to walk around on its shaky legs. Her black tongue flitted out every few seconds to taste the air and a thin film flicked over her eyes as she peered up at the lights in the ceiling.

"First thing of note is her outward appearance," Jack said. "So far, she's definitely showing her relation to Komodo dragons, with her elevated breathing and how she 'smells' the room. We're going to test her vision in just a little bit to confirm. Behaviorally, she hasn't shown any aggression yet and she might even have imprinted on me and Dr. Anjali so far."

He scooped her up and placed her on the animal scale on the counter. "She weighs approximately two-point-four pounds."

Kamala handed him a flexible tape measure and helped hold her still as he measured her from snout to tail, and then from the top of her skull to her clawed feet. "She's twelve inches long and six-point-five inches tall. Her wings measure at four inches long and two inches wide."

Pete sneezed. Jack grinned. "Apparently, she might have the sniffles. Kam, our dragon has the sniffles."

Kamala lifted her out of the scale and set her back on the exam table. "I noticed."

"It's kind of adorable."

"Yes, it is,"

"Kam."

"What?"

" _We made a dragon._ "

She struggled not to laugh at the giddiness in his voice. "Yes, Jack, I noticed."

He cleared his throat. "Right. Sorry. Back on track." He walked over to the sink and poured water into an unused dish and brought it over. Pete climbed down from where she'd been walking across Kamala's left shoulder and gave it an experimental lick. She then crouched and started drinking the water.

"If her biology is like any other reptile, then my first guess is that she'll want insects as a food source, possibly fish as well. We'll start her off on crickets since they are small and probably easier on her digestive tract before moving through different kinds of solid nourishment. She'll most likely swallow the food whole since her teeth aren't much bigger than a millimeter each."

He retrieved a stethoscope for Kamala and held the dragon still while she used it. "Heart rate is an average of 120 bpm."

She walked over to the counter and retrieved a thermometer with a sensor in its tip, sparing the reptile an apologetic look as she lifted up her tail. Pete squeaked momentarily.

"Temperature is 30 degrees Celsius."

Jack glanced at the webcam. "That's 86 degrees Fahrenheit, for you heathen Americans out there."

Kamala snorted and uncapped a small syringe, cooing softly to the dragon. "This is going to hurt just a little, _meri priya_."

She felt along the length of Pete's tail, which accounted for about four of her total twelve inches, until she found a vein and then stuck the needle in. Pete chirped again and wriggled, but Jack held her still until the blood was drawn.

"Good girl," he murmured, letting go so the reptile could get her bearings. "I'll go grab her a snack and then we can see where we are for X-rays."

He started for the door, but then paused.

"What?" Kamala asked.

Jack turned. "You know how I utterly loathe selfies?"

"Yes."

"I kind of think the situation warrants a selfie. Just one. And then we will never speak of it again."

Kamala bit her bottom lip to hide a smile. "Agreed."

She held her hand out to the dragon, which scuttled up her arm to burrow underneath her hair, and leaned into Jack's shoulder as he held up his phone. Pete noticed his outstretched hand and decided to investigate, leading to a photo with her little face in the foreground and the two grinning scientists watching on in amusement.

Jack handed Pete back over to Kamala and then left to inquire about when they could get the X-rays done. He returned about ten minutes later with a small doggy bowl full of dead crushed insects, which he set in front of the dragon on the counter. She sniffed them thoroughly and then began eating.

Jack wrinkled his nose at the _crunch-crunch_ noises she made. " _Bon appétit_. At least she's got protein in her diet now. Anyway, they're prepping the X-ray machine as we speak. In your medical opinion, what should we use to sedate her?"

"Anesthesia should work just fine. I have an idea of how much to give her."

"So, gas or injection?"

"Injection. She's so small that they might not have a mask that will fit over her head. I doubt she'll have an allergy to anything we give her, but that's the safer option because I can control the dosage exactly."

A persistent humming sound interrupted them and Jack took his phone out of his pocket, glaring at it before finally shutting it off. "Seriously, this thing's been going off non-stop since we left campus, and I don't recognize eighty percent of the numbers calling me. I think we need to hire an agent."

"Not a bad idea. Maybe you'll become the next Neil DeGrasse Tyson."

"Oh my God, don't even joke about that. I'll never be that cool."

"Well, you are also tall and good-looking. I wouldn't be surprised if they try to turn you into some kind of poster boy for the scientific community."

"Yes, I'm sure to become the David Beckham of MIT. All they have to do is Photoshop some abs on me and we're all set." A knock came at the door and he nodded towards Pete. "They're ready for us. Let's get to it."

Considering the importance of their subject, Jack and Kamala got the X-rays back in an hour flat and studied the results while Pete recovered in a small cage near the other animals kept in the facility.

"Skeletal structure is like we predicted," Kamala murmured, tracing a fingertip over the pale, illuminated impression of Pete's spinal column. "Light bones that should allow her to fly once her wings are strong enough. Heart is healthy. Lungs seem to have some kind of slight damage, which could account for her coughing and sneezing. Her scales should harden further over time."

"Yeah, I noticed that." He reached behind him and held up a small plastic bag with little grey flakes inside. "She's already molting. Very unusual for a newborn. Think it's part of her accelerated growth?"

Kamala nodded, examining the scales. "We'll have to chart it daily until it normalizes. If that's the case, then our projection of her final size is off by a lot. She could become the size of a young Komodo dragon for all we know."

"We're gonna need bigger apartments."

Kamala shook her head. "Why am I not surprised that you want to keep her like a dog?"

"What kid doesn't dream of having a pet dragon?"

She opened her mouth to reply, then shrugged. "Point taken. Still, we have to think bigger than that. The whole world will want to see her. Once she's stable, we'll have to consider her future. One where she'll be safe and healthy, not a sideshow freak."

"Well, the wildlife preserve that lent us Sarah is definitely interested in her well-being. We'll keep in contact with them as we move forward with further experimentation. I'd rather she be there with expert care than trapped in a zoo somewhere. You know, unless we go the John Hammond route and make a park full of dragons."

Kamala arched an eyebrow. "You do remember what happened at the end of that movie, right?"

"Yeah, they ate Samuel L. Jackson, the bastards." He stepped forward, pointing to the bottom of Pete's jaw. "Now these glands here. What do those look like?"

"Could be where the saliva is produced, but I'm not entirely sure. Her species hasn't been documented as one that can produce fire. Perhaps poisonous sacs? After all, the Komodo dragon has a mouth full of lethal bacteria."

"Right. And look at the way her teeth are shaped. Hooks like a python for swallowing things whole. We should also consider putting eggs in her diet. Easy to digest once her mouth gets big enough to swallow them. The lab said they should be able to get the results of her saliva back in an hour."

He moved up higher, examining her wings. "Her wings should grow proportional to her overall body length. What worries me is if flying is an inherent behavior or if it's taught like with certain birds."

"I suppose we'll know once we determine her social behavior," Kamala said. "Komodo dragons are typically solitary until mating season, so I doubt introducing her to Sarah would do her any good. Their young are mostly arboreal during their first year of life, and Pete is fond of climbing so far. That's the trouble with splicing a new animal from an old one. She'll be split down the middle both biologically and socially."

She glanced at her watch. "We've got maybe another twenty minutes before the little one wakes up. Let's get all this information logged and then we've got interviews for most of the day. Better start practicing your fake smile."

"Fake smile? You kiddin' me? I'm doing a Blue Steel into every camera pointing in my direction. Maybe then they'll reconsider that poster boy idea."

~ * ~

Faye glanced up from her paperback copy of _Magic Rises_ as the front door opened, spilling the two unbelievably exhausted scientists into the apartment. She caught sight of a couple of straggling reporters behind them, shouting questions, but Jack growled and slammed the door in their faces with utmost malice. She offered the pair a sympathetic smile and slipped a bookmark into the book, before sitting up straight on the couch.

"Wow. Looks like you've had fun reaping the fruits of your labor."

Kamala marched over to the couch and flopped down onto it face-first. "I have never been this tired in my entire life."

Jack collapsed on the love seat, his long legs dangling over the edge, and pressed both hands over his face. "Kill me."

Faye laughed. "You guys are pathetic. So, what happened?"

Kamala hugged a throw pillow. "After the initial physical examination, we split the time between logging all the data and being bombarded by everything from news channels to magazines to corporate sponsors to angry protestors to nosy MIT students. We finally had to hire a security guard at the lab to prevent people from barging in to gawk. We set up a formal nationwide showing of Pete for next week, but I don't know if we can even make it that long."

Jack held up his phone. "See this?"

"Yes," Faye said.

"Turned it off an hour after Pete's birth. It wouldn't stop ringing. Family members, former colleagues, students, anyone and everyone who's ever bumped into me has been calling. My freaking high school girlfriend called me to ask me out to coffee, for God's sake. And she's _married_."

"To be fair," Faye mused. "I did warn you to be ready."

"There is no way to prepare for insanity," he grumbled. "My apartment looks like Woodstock is about to break out. That's why she brought me here. I haven't been able to shake them until now and it's..." Jack checked his watch.

"Holy shit, when was it _midnight?_ "

"I'm moving to Antarctica," Kamala said firmly. "Tonight."

Faye shook her head in amusement. "How's Pete doing?"

"She's fine," Jack said with a belabored sigh. "We got her a little private pen at the veterinary hospital. Loaded her up with a bucket of dead crickets and some water and something to curl up on. We'll work on her permanent lodgings tomorrow. If I'm still alive by then."

"Oh, it's just the beginning, my friends," Faye said, patting Kamala's mussed hair before standing. "Wait until Oprah calls. Then Antarctica won't be far enough. Try Mars."

"Good idea."

"Good night, nerds. See you when I see you."

She started for her room, but paused, glancing over her shoulder. "Really, though. Congratulations. I'm proud of you."

She escaped before either of them could say anything in response.

"It's scary when she's nice," Jack said.

"Mm. You should see her cry. It's like seeing your Dad cry."

"Gah. Nightmare fuel." Jack sighed. "We'd better get some sleep. We're pretty much booked through Christmas. I'll take the couch, if you don't mind."

"Jack, we've discussed this before. You're too big for the couch. Just sleep in my room."

"I'm not making you sleep on the couch."

"No one said I was sleeping on the couch."

He paused. "You're gonna sleep with Faye?"

"No."

"...you've lost me."

Kamala rolled her eyes and lurched to her feet. "It's a Queen-sized bed, Jack. There's enough room for both of us."

Jack suppressed the urge to gulp. "Oh. Uh. Right. I mean, if it's not a big deal to you or anything."

"Would I have suggested it if it were?"

"Well, no."

"Then it isn't. Let's go. I'm beat." She shuffled towards the bedroom, and he followed, trying not to trip on the way.

He'd seen the inside of her room before, usually when she was digging around for notes to give him or lending him a textbook. It smelled of vanilla and spice, thanks to the incense on her armoire. Little fairy lights hung from the walls and the décor all had the same theme: yellow daffodils. The furniture was rich cedar everywhere, adding to that warm, comfy atmosphere that washed over him as he walked in. A small, decorated shrine sat on the main dresser, with beautiful illustrations of the gods Brahma, Vishnu, and the goddess Saraswati. The bed sat underneath the window and the walk-in closet was to the right, with a connected full bathroom to the left.

"Gonna take a shower," Kamala said, swiping a handful of assorted clothing before heading towards the bathroom.

"Kam."

She glanced at him over her shoulder. He was scratching his neck and staring at his socked feet. "About earlier... I'm sorry. I don't know what would have happened if you hadn't been there. Thanks for not losing your head. Thanks for... everything, really."

She stared at him from under her thick lashes and then smiled. "Go to bed, you useless _pagal_."

She shut the door behind her. Jack sighed and took off his suit jacket.

"Love you too," he murmured, and then he climbed into her bed.

~ * ~

Kamala had always been an early riser, since her parents used to wake her to do their morning prayers and meditation when she was a child. But after the rigorous hours she and Jack had worked over the past year on the project, she managed to fall out of the habit. She slept hard, often because she was only getting six hours or so per night, and woke up sluggishly, usually needing her alarm clock. This morning was no different. The tinkling sound of digital bells woke her and she moaned deep in the back of her throat with disgruntled misery.

She tried to reach for the nightstand, only to realize something was in her way. Her arm was draped across Jack's waist. At some point during the night, she'd managed to snuggle up against his back with her face in his shoulder blades, finding the warm, flat space comfortable. Amusingly enough, despite the vibrating and ringing cell phone, he didn't move an inch, sleeping soundly on his side.

Still moaning mutinously, Kamala pushed up on her other arm and reached across her partner, poking the cell phone quiet. She dropped to the pillow again and sighed. The weight of everything in her life washed over her and made her lie still for a few more minutes, contemplating hiding beneath the covers to avoid any further responsibilities. Wasn't the worst idea ever, come to think of it. She really could use a couple more hours of sleep, and so could Jack.

Speaking of which, she creaked an eyelid open. He still hadn't moved. To her surprise, he didn't snore. She'd hated sharing a bed with previous boyfriends for that exact reason, but with Jack, she felt oddly at peace. He hadn't hogged the bed with his enormous frame, either; sleeping on his side with his legs mostly curled up so they wouldn't hang off the edge, one arm dangling off the side of the mattress, most of his face buried in the pillow. His hair stuck up at several different angles and she fought the urge to smooth it down like always.

"Hey," Kamala murmured in a sleep-heavy voice, ruffling said messy hair. "It's time to get up, Jack."

A growl answered her. She giggled, having anticipated it. "Oh, don't you start. I don't like this anymore than you do."

He mumbled something unintelligible as she poked him in the ribs. "Come on. We have work to do. Remember the whole 'we made a dragon' thing?"

Another Neanderthal grunt followed, and then he rolled over and pulled her up against him, settling his chin on the crown of her head. She stayed perfectly still, too shocked to move.

"Too early," Jack muttered. "Five more minutes."

She wiggled until she could look up at him. His eyes were still closed and his breathing was deep. Jack didn't like to be touched, from what she could tell, so that led her to the conclusion that he was still half-sleep.

"Jack," she said patiently. "We have to get up."

"No, we don't," he mumbled into her hair. "We're playing hooky today."

An actual sentence this time. He was waking up, bit by bit. "That sounds very irresponsible, Jack."

"S'fun, though."

Her shoulders shook with suppressed laughter. "Where are we going to play hooky? We're world-famous scientists now, remember?"

"Not going anywhere. Staying in bed."

"For how long?"

"Forever."

Her shoulders shook harder. "Forever?"

"Mm-hmm. S'nice. This is a nice dream."

"I hate to break it to you, but you're not asleep, Jack."

"What?" He stirred finally and opened his eyes halfway, noticing the immensely amused look on her face from about two inches away. Then, he promptly let go and scooted away as if she'd burned him.

"Shit! Sorry, Kam. I-I didn't—I mean, I wasn't—"

She yawned, waving a hand to dismiss the apology. "Relax or you're gonna fall off the bed."

He glanced over his shoulder and realized she was right, moving away from the edge. "No, really, though, sorry. I'm kind of a heavy sleeper."

"I noticed. I'm still contemplating that offer to play hooky, matter of fact."

He arched an eyebrow. "I said that?"

She shook her head. "Boy, you must be out of it if you can't even remember what you said ten seconds ago."

Jack paled a bit. "Uh, what else did I say?"

"Oh, it's too late. I know the truth. I know your big secret."

Jack's heart started digging its own grave inside his chest. "What, uh, what secret?"

She leaned forward, her dark hair sliding down from behind her ear, a sly smile forming on her lips. Jack tried his best not to appreciate the simple beauty of her; even disheveled with no makeup, she was still beyond gorgeous.

"You're a cuddler."

Jack's heart stuck its head out of the grave and did a fist pump. He tried not to let the relief show on his face. "Oh. That. Well, yeah. What's wrong with cuddling?"

She shrugged and propped her head up on one hand. "Nothing. It's just surprising. You don't like it when people touch you."

"Depends on who's doing the touching, I guess."

She lowered her lids a bit. "Jack... are you coming on to me?"

"Haaaaa. Good one, Kam. Let's not forget who invited who into whose bed."

"Point taken. Regardless..." She patted him on the cheek playfully. "Time to get up. Let's go."

She kicked the covers off her legs and slid off the bed, walking into the bathroom humming under her breath. The door closed.

Jack collapsed face-first into the mattress and pulled the pillow over his head, moaning in shame. "Useless _pagal_."

~ * ~

Due to their overnight fame, Kamala and Jack headed into the lab as early as possible, arriving just before six a.m. to avoid the less-devoted press members who wouldn't rouse until seven or eight. With only a glint of dawn wrapped around the city, they slipped into the building easily and retrieved the nest of unhatched eggs that had been stored for further research. Kamala had a lot of friends in the medical school, so she was able to get access to the coroner's lab to determine the cause of death for the unborn hatchlings.

Jack took a deep breath and snapped on his protective goggles, glancing at his partner. "Ready?"

"Not as much as I'd like to be," she said, running a gloved finger down the side of one egg. "This hurts a lot more than I thought it would. Hard to keep a scientific distance when we literally engineered them from just tiny cells."

"I know," he said. "But we owe it to them to find out what went wrong. Let's get started."

They took photos of each egg from every angle and then sent them through the x-ray machine one by one, assigning each egg a letter to keep track in case there were differences between them. Once everything was fully documented, Kamala made a careful incision on the first egg. The fluid had gotten a thicker, more viscous consistency after a day of inactivity, and formed a gel around the dead baby dragon. She carefully lifted its corpse out and onto the coroner's table under a bright lamp. Jack clicked on the mic hanging from the ceiling as she began.

"Discoloration," Kamala said as Jack hovered by her right shoulder. "That's the first thing of note on record. The sac fluid around Pete was light yellow and this is reddish-brown."

She took pictures of the remains inside the egg shell and then moved on to the body of the dragon. "No external C.O.D, but we predicted as much. Autopsy commencing."

She made careful, neat incisions down the chest cavity of the animal and then one in the skull. "Discoloration of the brain, which might indicate suffocation or atrophy. Pupils dilated to extreme proportions, especially for a reptile. Heart appears to be the cause of death. The tissue is dead and the veins and arteries are also discolored."

"Do you think it was a by-product of the Komodo dragon's DNA? After all, they have hundreds of kinds of bacteria in their mouths that enable them to catch and kill prey or defend against other predators."

Kamala shook her head. "As far as I can tell, the splicing worked perfectly. The original DNA didn't reject the Komodo's chromosomes. It was practically poetry. Something else must have happened."

She swabbed the liquids surrounding the heart, lungs, and intestines, then carefully put them on slides one by one. Jack set up the microscope and she climbed on the stool, checking out the sample tissue and liquid from the heart of the fetus.

After a moment, Kamala blinked her eyes hard and sat up straight, her delicate brow furrowed nearly as deeply as her father's. "That can't be right."

"What?"

She peered into the lenses again. "There's something attached to these blood cells and to the tissue, but it's not from the dragon. It's organic, alright, but..."

Kamala stood and gestured towards it. "You have more experience in animal and plant science. Tell me if you recognize it."

Jack nodded and stooped over the microscope.

"No. That can't be what I think it is."

"What is it?"

Jack sat back, his face suddenly pale. "That's _atropa belladonna_."

"Poison?" Kamala choked out. "As in deadly nightshade?"

Jack nodded, swallowing hard. "Took a few botany classes in graduate school. We'll still run the tests to confirm, but that's it."

"How the hell did they get belladonna in their systems? That makes no physiological or biological sense. Their organs couldn't have naturally produced it. Even the dragons we've studied who could manufacture poisonous glands, didn't make belladonna. Are you saying what I think you're saying?"

Again, Jack nodded. She stepped back. "You think someone poisoned our hatchlings while we were gone?"

"I think that's exactly what happened."

Kamala strode back to the table with the intact eggs on it and picked one up. Jack came up behind her with a flashlight and held it beneath the egg. Towards the very bottom of the shell came a tiny red light, one so small it could have been missed if not for the light shining through the other side.

"Needle mark," Kamala breathed, and then her lovely face twisted with anger. "Someone injected belladonna into our babies, Jack."

She set the egg down and pressed her fists against the table, her head bowed, her shoulders tense like piano wire. "When I find whoever did this... I'm going to rip them a new _malashay_."

Jack let out a humorless bark of laughter. "Better than what I'm gonna do to them. Get this all down and printed for proof. We've got ourselves a manhunt to conduct."

# CHAPTER FIVE

OVERKILL

"Unbelievable," Matt Buchanan said, shaking his head as he sat back from the microscope. "Someone assassinated your dragons. Who on God's green earth _does_ that? I swear, Ultron was right. We need to fuckin' evolve, man." He raked a hand through his sandy curls, tucking his glasses in the pocket of his lab coat, and turned towards Jack and Kamala. "What's the plan?"

"Draw up a suspect pool, for one," Jack said. "The most obvious ones would be those kooks outside protesting the project for 'unnatural and immoral experimentation.' Organizations like that have been known to interfere if they thought we presented a deadly threat to their way of life. Granted, my gut doesn't think it's them, but that's where we should start."

Matt nodded, glancing at Kamala next. "Right. Suspect number two?"

"We had to turn down several interested parties who wanted to cover the unveiling," Kamala said. "It's possible they decided to sabotage it so they'd seem prophetic if they predicted disaster, and that would boost their ratings and sales temporarily. I'm checking through list of news channels and magazines we rejected."

"Gotcha. And suspect number three?"

Jack shifted his weight uncomfortably. "Well, this is a lab and there's extensive access to chemicals in this building. There is a good chance it's an inside job."

Matt rubbed the stubble on his chin and sighed. "I hope not. I mean, we have our differences, but the thought that an MIT student or staff member could do something like this..."

Jack nodded gravely. "Not a positive thought, but it would explain how the belladonna was injected with such accuracy."

"That reminds me," Matt said, his brown eyes lighting up a bit. "How did Pete survive?"

"Wrong injection site," Kamala said. "My guess is that someone got wise to the person before they could finish, and so Pete's injection was done in a hurry. The sloppy work kept the bulk of the poison from reaching her vital organs. She shows some slight damage internally, but nothing catastrophic."

"Well then, there's the good news," Matt said. "If someone there noticed an uninvited guest, then we might have a witness. Have you drawn up a list of everyone in attendance?"

"Yeah. That's why we wanted you to look after Pete today while we're out investigating. Odds are, they might still want her dead. She'll need protection from someone we can trust. Matter of fact, pressure the staff so that we can get her in the most secure part of the veterinary hospital until we find a better place for her. That's the second item on our priority list today."

"Point taken. Guess you can't take her to your place since it's swamped with paparazzi, and my name's in the article since I'm your P.I. I'll reach out to some people I trust and see if I can pull some strings for you."

He stood and laid a hand on both of their shoulders. "We'll get to the bottom of this no matter what, guys. I've got your back. Get out there and find this asshole."

"Thanks, Matt. We'd like you to keep this as quiet as you can in the meantime. If we have a mole in the department, they might make a rash decision if they find out we know they poisoned the dragons."

"Will do. Good luck."

~ * ~

"I'm so sorry this happened, honey-bunny."

Jack shook his head, but smiled in spite of himself. "Ma, seriously. I'm not six years old anymore. And we're in public."

Edie sniffed and moved her hand away. "This is what I get for trying to comfort my son."

Jack rolled his eyes and grabbed her hand, pulling it towards him and linking their fingers. "What is it about Mother's Guilt? Was it just engineered into you women-folk?"

She grinned. "Damn right. Most powerful weapon we've got other than telling you, 'I'm not mad. I'm disappointed.'"

"Yes, quite the potent phrasing there," he said, sipping a Samuel Adams. "Thanks."

"Did you make any headway with your witnesses?"

Jack shook his head. "You're the last one of the day. S'why I had enough time to buy you a drink. Kamala's out interviewing the staff from the news channel that did show up. I kind of hope that dick reporter was the one who did it, so I'd have an excuse to crack his skull."

"Language," she said, pretending to scowl. "And yes, he was rather awful. I thought your father was going to sock him after he went after you in the lab."

"Huh."

She eyed him. "What do you mean 'huh'?"

Jack shrugged. "Nothing."

She exhaled and tugged her hand free. "You're starting again."

"Ma..."

"Contrary to what you think, he does care about what you do. Even if he doesn't always show it."

Jack pursed his lips. "Yes, which is why he's on his phone right now upstairs and can't be bothered to join us."

"He works for a living too, you know. You could be a little more understanding."

"Is it also a mother thing to take your husband's side all the time? Would it kill you to back me up for a change?"

"I am not picking sides, Rhett." She snapped, her hazel eyes dangerously glinting in the overhead light. "I didn't when you were younger and I'm not going to start now."

"The fact that you admit we're on opposite sides is the problem. I practically went to the other end of the country to do something that's important to me, and I've made a success of myself, but I still can't get the time of day from him. Even after all these years of busting my ass to make it work. How does that not bother you?"

She swirled her Budweiser in its bottle, her voice hushed. "I never said it didn't bother me."

He studied her for a long moment before the bartender interrupted. "Another round?"

"No," Edie said, placing a ten-dollar bill on the bar. "I'm good."

She sat for a bit more and then glanced at him. "If you have enough time tonight, drop by at dinner time. We're heading back tomorrow night. He might surprise you."

Jack grunted. She flicked his ear lightly. "Use your words, mister."

"Yes ma'am. I'll see if I can make it."

"Thank you." She drew him into a firm hug. "I love you, baby. Give 'em hell."

He laughed softly. "Right. Won't be enough to wipe up with a sponge when we're done with 'im."

Edie froze.

Jack pulled away, his face puzzled. "What?"

"Janitor," she whispered.

"What?"

"The janitor," Edie repeated, her eyes wide. "I told you that I didn't see anyone in the room before the unveiling, but after... there was a guy there in a janitor's uniform, just outside of the crowd when we were leaving. When I saw him, he turned and walked out like he was only checking to see people's reactions."

"How do you know he wasn't just being nosy?"

"The bucket was empty and his mop was dry. He didn't even have a solution bottle with him, so he must have been pretending the whole time."

Jack fumbled for his notepad. "Describe him."

"Over six feet tall. Had a cap on, but his hair was dark. I think he might have been Asian."

Jack paused. "Broad shoulders?"

"Yes."

The pit of his stomach filled with ice. Perhaps it was just a coincidence. It wasn't like Okegawa was the only tall, broad-shouldered Asian man in all of Massachusetts. He calmed himself and kept an objective perspective. "Any distinguishing marks?"

"No."

"Any clothing other than the janitor's uniform?"

"No."

"What else?"

"I smelled a bit of cigarette smoke, I think."

Jack closed his eyes momentarily and gritted his teeth. "Alright, we can work from there. Anything else you remember?"

"No, I think that's it. Was that helpful? Oof!"

He squeezed her in a bear hug. "More than you know, Ma."

~ * ~

Since they were in the public eye, for the time being, Kamala had given Jack a copy of her apartment key so he could slip in and out of her place more easily, and without having to wait for her or Faye. The press had latched on to him more firmly since the project had been his idea. They wanted to paint him as an All-American genius, and being relatively good-looking, white, and from the South, fit their suspiciously specific ideals.

He shut the front door behind him and tucked the keys in his coat pocket, striding towards the den. Before he could turn the corner, he heard something that stopped him in his tracks.

"You are wasting your life with that man, Kamala."

There was no mistake. It was Kamala's father, Daeshim. Jack swallowed hard and stood still, listening intently for her response.

"How dare you say that. You don't know him."

"Don't I? I saw the two of you during the unveiling. He completely fell apart when the hatchlings were pronounced dead. Is that the sort of person you want to have a stake in, in your professional career? A hot-headed naïve fool of a man like that?"

"Jack's passion is precisely why the birth of our dragon was a success. Yes, he is impulsive, and yes, sometimes he falters, but he is not a failure."

"Is that so? What would you call this mess you're in right now? These bottom-dwellers stalking your home? Calling you at all hours of the night? Not giving you the credit you deserve because you're in the company of a white man?"

"I didn't get into this for credit, Papa. I got into this because I wanted to make a difference, and I have done that. If you cannot accept it, then there is nothing left for me to say to you."

"You aren't thinking clearly, Kamala. You are better than this, than what he has made of you. You are one of the top medical and scientific minds in this country, and yet you let him and these Americans treat you like a servant. That is not who you are."

"No. It's not. But I'm also not the obedient little girl you want me to be. I know why you're here. You don't care about my work. You wanted this to fail so that you could convince me to come home and work for your practice again."

"That's not what I want—"

She snorted. "Sure it isn't."

"There is no future here. That is what I'm trying to get you to realize. If you will not see it now, then you will see it too late, when you have lost everything you tried to accomplish."

Silence. Jack's heart stuttered and flopped around his chest like a butterfly with a broken wing.

Finally, Kamala spoke softly. "Then that is my fate. I am my own."

Daeshim exhaled harshly and muttered something in Urdu. He switched back to English a moment later. "Your mother wants to see you for dinner tonight. I trust you will not disappoint her."

"Of course not. Tell her I will see her after nine o'clock."

"Very well."

Jack heard footsteps and panicked momentarily, slipping into the pantry closet and pulling the door closed. He stood on his tiptoes, the wire racks digging into his back, and held his breath as Daeshim walked past the kitchen and then out the front door. Jack heaved a sigh and waited another moment to be sure he didn't come back, and then opened the door.

He walked around the corner, into the den, and once again stopped dead.

Kamala stood there, tears running down her round cheeks, her head bent, hands propped up against the couch.

Jack's heart shattered into a thousand pieces.

She noticed him a second later and jumped, her eyes wide. "J-Jack?"

"Yeah," he mumbled, jingling his pocket. "Sorry, used the key. Didn't mean to intrude. I'll... come back later."

"No, no," she said, hurriedly wiping her face. "I'm alright. It's just been a long day."

She blew her nose with a napkin from the dining table. Jack watched her warily before sighing to himself and moving in close. He hugged her gently, resting his large hand on the nape of her neck, the other rubbing her back. She didn't quite relax all the way, but he heard her sigh softly and lean into his chest.

"Sorry," he whispered.

"Stop apologizing," Kamala said, her voice muffled. "Or I'll kick your skinny ass."

He choked on a laugh, drew back, and kissed her forehead. "Yes, ma'am. I suppose you want to know what I found."

Kamala's slightly pink eyes gleamed suddenly. "Which was?"

"My mother said she saw someone observing the end of our unveiling in the hallway, and he ran off when she spotted him. Said he was tall, muscular, had dark hair, and smelled like cigarette smoke. Possibly Asian. Sound familiar?"

"Bloody hell," Kamala hissed. "You think it was Okegawa?"

Jack nodded. "I was going to head back to the lab and get the campus police involved so we can launch an investigation. I tried to research the guy myself, but nothing came up. He's a ghost story, at least according to online records. I'm going to have my mother work with a sketch artist and then see if Okegawa has a rap sheet. If we find him, and she picks him out of a lineup, we might have a chance at getting some justice for our little ones."

"I don't understand," Kamala said. "What's his motivation? You can't possibly think that Yagami put him up to it?"

"I agree that it doesn't seem to be his style. He's under a lot of pressure, but sabotage? What is there to gain? It's not like it would get him an extension on his deadline."

"Right. It would have made more sense for him to simply steal the dragons."

"Son of a bitch!" Jack's phone screamed. He stepped away to check it and frowned as he didn't recognize the number. He'd blocked all the numbers that belonged to the press and any spammers, but this one was still a local area code.

"Hello? Dr. Jackson speaking."

"Dr. Jackson, this is Officer Daniel West with the Cambridge police department. We received a call from one of your neighbors. There's been a break-in at your apartment."

Jack stared wide-eyed at Kamala.

"I'll be right there."

~ * ~

Chunks of wood crunched beneath Jack's shoes as he walked through the threshold of his apartment. Officer West, the tall blond cop who had called, told him he'd suspected the burglar had pried it open with a crowbar. Jack nodded numbly and stepped inside.

The kitchen was to the immediate right, and the cabinets were all open, with broken jars of food and condiments scattered over the tile. The pantry had been ripped open, and things were all askew on the shelves, as if someone had swiped them aside to search for something.

His flat screen television was still perched on the entertainment center, but his PlayStation 4 was missing. Made sense. TVs weren't easy to carry out. The PS4 could fit easily inside a large backpack. None of the books or DVDs were missing, but he'd predicted as much.

"We figured the guy had a target in mind," Officer West said, motioning towards Jack's bedroom. "That's why the den is mostly untouched. I'm assuming you had some electronics."

"Yeah," Jack said, stepping into the destruction that was his bedroom. The mattress had been tossed in the center of the room and chunks of it were ripped out, likely done with a knife. The box spring was shredded too, and it was a damn shame he'd never see that twelve-hundred dollars of emergency money ever again. He'd been saving it going on six months now.

Jack always kept his project files in several sources, having been on the receiving end of a virus or two in his lifetime. He used a laptop during the day and kept the bulk of the files on his PC and external hard drive. His laptop and iPad were missing. The external hard drive and PC had been smashed beyond recognition. Pieces of circuitry and electronics lay in a pile in front of his desk.

He squatted in front of the pile, snapping on a pair of gloves and poking through it as Officer West hovered behind him. "Anything salvageable?"

"Doubtful," Jack said. "Guy knew what he was doing."

West grimaced. "Tell me you had it all backed up."

"Of course I did. Everything I worked on is automatically updated to my Cloud and Dropbox."

"Smart."

Jack gave him a thin smile over his shoulder. "That's why they stole the laptop."

West's face fell. "Jesus Christ, man. I'm sorry. Did you save the stuff on a flash drive? A backup external?"

"Kamala's laptop and tablet have the same data that I have. They weren't trying to destroy all the evidence. If they wanted that, they'd have tossed her place when she was out helping me investigate. This is something else. This is a message."

"Yeah," West said, exhaling. "I was afraid of that. I've seen my share of smash-and-grabs in my day. This looks more like one of those 'I know where you live' things. Especially this number."

He tapped his knuckles against Jack's bedroom door. An issue of the campus magazine with Jack on the cover hung there, stuck to it with a large knife through his face.

Jack stood and peeled off his gloves. "Yeah, well. They didn't get my baseball bat. Means I have something to look forward to."

West scowled up at him. "Slow down there. The kind of person who brazenly busts into an apartment with nearby neighbors isn't going to be all that scared of a baseball bat. I know you're angry, but lashing out isn't going to help anyone. I need you to focus on what's missing so you can write it down and we can find some leads. You done taking stock?"

"Yeah."

"Good. I'll have forensics get started and take you down to the station. There's a detective already waiting for you."

A hollow laugh shook through the weary scientist. "That's fine. I was headed there anyway."

West arched a dark gold eyebrow and Jack filled him in. "Let me ask you this: that neighbor who caught a quick glimpse of the robber. Was he tall and muscular, maybe around six-foot-three?"

West flipped through his notes. "Yeah."

"Mm-hmm. Like I said. I was heading to the station anyhow. I might have an idea of who did this. Name's Kazuma Okegawa."

"What reason do you have to believe he's involved?"

"He's Sketchy McSketchersville, for one, but my mother identified him at the event where my dragons were assassinated."

West stared at him. Jack offered him a sheepish grin. "Long story."

The policeman shook his head. "Scientists. You're gonna destroy the world someday. Come on. I'll buy you a cup of coffee on the way."

Jack followed him out of the apartment and down the sidewalk to his patrol car. "Any chance you were able to wrangle someone to watch Kamala's place?"

"Yeah, they arrived about ten minutes ago. If anything turns up, we'll be the first ones to know. Did you get her out of there?"

Jack nodded. "She and her roommate are going to stay at a hotel. I sent her back to the lab to check on our dragon in the meantime. Should be calling any second."

Officer West barked a couple of orders into his radio and then pulled onto the street, heading towards the station. Jack texted his mother to meet him there as soon as possible.

Not a moment after he was done, his phone buzzed and then lit up with the upbeat drum intro to "Jaan Pehechan Ho." Kamala's face appeared on his screen, squinting and sticking her tongue out in the selfie she'd taken.

"Hey," he answered. "For God's sake, tell me you have good news."

"Jack... she's gone. Pete is gone."

# CHAPTER SIX

OF COURSE, YOU KNOW... THIS MEANS WAR

"So," Jeffrey Reed, attorney at law, said, steepling his fingers in front of his face. "Let me see if I've got this all straight. The two of you finally completed your fellowship project, the focus of which was to resurrect a living, breathing dragon. A couple of days before you achieved your goal you bumped into a suspicious character associated with Dr. Yagami Sugimoto, the heir of the Sugimoto Pharmaceutical empire. Said suspicious character, who has no criminal background or _any_ background that the police can tell, was spotted by an eyewitness only moments after the birth of the dragon, codename Pete. Sometime, while you were out investigating this matter, an unidentified man broke into your home and stole your laptop and iPad, and destroyed all of the data related to the project. He then either perpetrated or helped perpetrate a fire at the veterinary hospital, and while the building was being evacuated, he stole the dragon and killed the Komodo dragon that gave birth to it. As I understand, there were no witnesses to this crime because of the confusion caused during the fire. There is also no forensic evidence so far to substantiate the identity of the suspect, Kazuma Okegawa. You have also been unable to reach Dr. Sugimoto for commentary on any of these occurrences, as he has not been seen since before the hatching of the dragons. Am I correct?"

"Yes," Jack and Kamala said.

"And you'd like to know from a legal standpoint what can be done?"

"Yes," they said again.

He pressed the sides of his fingertips to his lips, staring at the papers in front of him on the desk. He flicked his grey eyes up at the gaunt faces of the pair of scientists and then over to the short, dark-haired detective, Colin Stubbs, who stood in the corner with his pen and pad raised.

Jeffrey removed his thick-rimmed glasses and scrubbed his face with both hands, then tucked a stray flaming-red lock of hair back into place above his ear. "I'm not entirely sure how to say this."

"Keep it simple, Jeff," Jack said quietly. "We can handle it."

"You're fucked."

Jack exhaled. "Figured as much."

Jeff offered them both a sympathetic look. "I'm sorry, but this is a classic case of 'no evidence, no conviction.' The biggest advantage you have is that you have an eyewitness who is reliable, but the simple fact of the matter is that there is no hard evidence. Yes, we have crimes committed here and proof that someone is in fact bending you over the table to take you up the rear, but this..." He gestured at the report they'd filed. "With nothing but a name and a theory, we can't possibly prosecute." Jeff glanced at the detective. "Sir, if I may... when do you think they would finish the sweep of Dr. Jackson's home and the lab where the dragons were poisoned?"

"The lab's backed up pretty far," Stubbs said. "Most times, it takes a week or more. I can't promise any sooner than that, not without some serious pull."

The lawyer spread his hands. "You see? That's the problem. We have nothing to go on here. It would be different if this Okegawa was a figurehead of some kind and we could interrogate him. But he's in the wind. The best I can recommend is to request the university to seek assistance from the FBI."

"In your professional opinion," Kamala said, "what is the likelihood that they'd be willing to help us pursue this case?"

Jeff sighed. "Hard to say. On the one hand, this story has been all over the news, and so I'm sure the FBI has heard of it anyway, and might be monitoring its progression for security reasons. On the other hand, if you're going to implicate Yagami Sugimoto as a suspect, he has significant pull being from a wealthy family who has a great relationship with the pharmaceutical companies in the United States. There might be pushback from those who are benefitting from that relationship. You could run into all kinds of roadblocks, or end up turning over a stone that has a giant freaking scorpion underneath it. If you can find Okegawa, then you might have a chance at salvaging a case, because positive identification is the key. If we find out who he is, then we might have a better understanding of how he's connected to Sugimoto, and get some leverage to make him confess to the crimes. For instance, if Sugimoto did put him up to this, then we can cut Okegawa a deal to roll on him. If he's just hired muscle, chances are, his loyalty is based on how fat his wallet is. Then you'll have room to put Sugimoto on trial, regardless of his influence."

Jeff glanced at Stubbs again. "In your experience, how many hours before a missing person—and animal, I guess in this case—becomes a lost cause?"

"For a person, it varies, but often, the solved cases find crucial evidence within forty-eight hours. The dragon was taken between nine o'clock and ten o'clock last night. The attending veterinarian checked on it before leaving for her shift, and the fire was reported shortly afterward."

"Is there any chance that this case will be taken seriously?"

Stubbs frowned. "We take all our cases seriously." Then, he cleared his throat. "But when it's something this bizarre, a lot of the guys out there won't look too hard if they know the case is standing on quicksand. You don't have much to go on, by the sound of it."

"And what does your gut say about the suspect's behavior?"

He licked his lips and checked his pad. "My guess would be that he snatched it and ran back where he came from. Home-field advantage, especially if he returned to Japan. If he's got Sugimoto bankrolling him, then there's no way we could touch them without causing an international incident. In my experience, once you involve the feds, you might not like what solution they come up with. It's easier to make deals than it is to get justice sometimes. And they have to look at the big picture."

Stubbs rolled his gaze over the two scientists. "Sorry, but that's the way it is. This smells like a 'big picture' solution where they tell you to shake hands, go your separate ways, and accept the loss."

"Agreed," Jeff said. "After all, you still have the method to create the dragons and the data that brought it about. I know it's unsightly, but you don't have to start over completely from scratch. Your project was successful in spite of the ugly events that followed. You'll have endless funding and support for the rest of your careers, even with this blemish on it. I will respect your decision if you want to pursue it, but I'm afraid the odds are against you."

"Thank you, Jeff," Kamala said, scooping up the manila folder. "We'll be in touch."

"Good luck, guys."

Jack, Kamala, and Det. Stubbs exited the lawyer's office to stand in the hallway. It was the wee hours of the morning, not long after six am. The practice had a few of its occupants inside, most sipping coffee and shuffling through their cases before the clients came in.

"Alright," Stubbs sighed. "I've reached out to the patrolmen to be on the lookout for Okegawa. If he's carrying a live animal, it does rule out certain forms of transportation. He'll want to lie low and avoid all public places so he can sneak out of the city, if that's what he's up to. If we find forensic evidence either at your home or the lab, it will give you the grounds to issue an official warrant for his arrest. If you think of anything else, you've got my card. If I'm not around, my partner Julio is."

"Thank you, detective."

He shook both their hands and headed out at a brisk pace. Jack and Kamala watched him go.

"How long?" Jack asked.

Kamala checked her watch. "Nine hours."

"Thirty-nine left. Let's get to work."

The two of them walked towards the exit. Kamala leafed through the folder as Jack held the door open for her, spilling them onto the sidewalk of the parking lot.

"None of the staff members at the veterinary hospital reported seeing Okegawa or someone fitting his description in the area prior to the fire. Matt had been able to get Pete moved to one of the more secure cells so that she wouldn't be disturbed, but it wasn't one of the areas that needed a card entry. The police are still conducting interviews, and that takes time. So, we need to find out if anyone else remembers seeing him, even if it's not someone who worked in that wing of the hospital."

"Right," Jack said as he climbed into the driver's seat and moved it back to fit his lanky frame. "The cops will probably check the financials of the people working yesterday, to rule out an inside job. Maybe we'll get lucky on that front. I'll drop you off. I'm going to go see if my friend found more information on Okegawa's background. After I pick you up, we have to go see Faye. She said she was working on something that might help."

Kamala buckled her seatbelt and regarded him. "Be careful, Jack. They tossed your place. That's a threat. Someone could be following you to make sure you're not going to become a liability."

"Liability." Jack bared his teeth in a smile. "Not even close to what I'm about to become." He nodded towards her. "What about you? It's been a while since I've seen you practice any self-defense. Will you be alright on your—"

Kamala calmly removed a small Taser from an inner pocket of her purse.

"...well. Ask a stupid question."

~*~

Two hours later, Kamala climbed into the passenger's side of her Volkswagen. Jack handed her a tall caramel cappuccino, and a paper bag containing a parfait and banana.

"You want the good news or the bad news first?" he asked.

She slurped the coffee greedily before answering. "It's too early for bad news. Start with the good."

"The perpetrator logged into my Cloud and Dropbox while in the vicinity of a Starbucks downtown. That gives us a window. The account was accessed last night around seven o'clock, while I was having drinks with my mother. We're going to canvass the Starbucks to see if any of them saw someone with my laptop. All he'd need to do is start it up, do the deed, and then toss it. If he got cocky, maybe he ditched it nearby and we can recover it."

Kamala arched an eyebrow. "So, now we're basically private investigators?"

"I do look damn fine in an overcoat and fedora."

She shook her head. "What's the bad news?"

"No hits on the financials of the people working the shift last night at the vet hospital. Detective Stubbs called me on my way here. Looks like he figured out a way around it. Stubbs had a theory that he might have used the old janitor gag again, or at least something similar. So he's checking into anyone reporting a missing uniform or out-of-place scrubs. What did you find out on your end?"

"The day before yesterday, one of the vet assistants reported that the bucket of dead crickets they ration out to Pete went missing. She also said Pete's chart wasn't on the front of her cage like usual, that it was sitting on the counter. I asked her if there was a copy machine nearby and she took me to it. We checked through the jobs it had recorded over the last couple of days. Whoever it was copied her medical information so he would know how to transport and care for her."

"Not as dumb as he looks," Jack grunted, sipping his own coffee. "What about her blood and scale samples?"

"Gone. Luckily, though, the ones I kept in the freezer at our lab are still there."

"Good. We have to stop by on the way and pick them up."

"Have you heard from Matt?"

"Yeah, he's dealing with the media shit-storm of trying to keep this mess quiet. The taping for Pete's official debut was supposed to be tomorrow, and he's attempting to make it sound like we're concerned about her health, and that's why we canceled. Won't stay quiet long, though. Sooner or later, someone's going to blab."

"Let them talk. We will get her back. I promise you that."

"Atta girl. Buckle up so we can go find this son of a bitch."

They parked a block away from Starbucks and went inside, patiently waiting to speak to the manager and then to the staff members who were on shift the previous night. No one could recall someone using an Apple MacBook with a Star Trek decal on the back within the time frame the IP address had been used, meaning that Okegawa had probably done it from nearby in his car.

Once the interviews were done, Jack and Kamala changed into coveralls and headed into the alley behind the building to look for the discarded laptop.

"Yep, this is exactly where I thought I'd be at this point in my life," Jack sighed, pulling on yet another pair of latex gloves as he stared forlornly at the reeking dumpster. "Ass-deep in garbage."

"We lead a charming life," Kamala agreed. "At least the manager was kind enough to let us do this without a fight. Technically, we're supposed to wait for the police."

"Not enough time on the clock for that. We'll work out the details later." Jack cleared his throat and cast her a sidelong glance, smirking.

"Ladies first?"

Kamala sent him a glare that could curdle milk. His smirk widened into a grin before he tossed both large black lids back and heaved himself up over the side. He landed and wobbled for a moment before shuddering as the stench of rotten food swallowed him whole. He breathed through his mouth in shallow bursts, his eyes tearing, and managed to keep his breakfast down after a moment.

"Yep," he said weakly, offering Kamala his arm. "Charming, indeed."

She climbed in next to him and they carefully rooted through the trash, checking for any bits of electronics in case the laptop had been disassembled before being tossed. "What are the odds that we'll find it in this mess?"

"We probably have a better chance of growing wings and flying around the city," Jack said, grimacing as he tossed a half-filled macchiato aside. "But the devil's in the details. There is no perfect crime. If Okegawa was on a deadline, he might have been in a rush. Being in a rush means making mistakes. That's all we need. Just one mistake to catch him."

They searched for the better part of half an hour before Kamala heard a suspicious crunching sound beneath her covered boots. She shifted a few things aside and found a long white cord. She tugged sharply on it and the battery charger for a MacBook laptop popped free, swinging in her hand. She met Jack's gaze and they both tore through the trash surrounding that spot. A moment later, Kamala's hands closed on Jack's laptop.

"Hello, beautiful," Jack said, wiping grime and gunk off of it. "Leave it closed. I'm sure the garbage probably did a number on any evidence on the outside, but there might be fibers or hairs between the keyboard and the screen. Nice work, Dr. Anjali."

She flashed him a grin, handed it to him, and turned to exit the dumpster. She stopped after only a step. Jack realized why a second later.

" _Konnichiwa_ ," Okegawa said pleasantly, his smile off-setting the silenced Beretta .9mm in his large hand. " _Ogenki desu ka?_ "

"We've been better," Kamala said, slowly raising her hands. Jack did the same, but he inched towards her in an attempt to block Okegawa's line of sight.

"Relax, Jackson," Okegawa drawled, his tone almost bored. "I have no intention of hurting _ojō-sama_."

"Well, you tossed my apartment and now you have a gun pointed at us," Jack said. "You understand my concern."

"Of course. The gun is merely insurance. If I wanted you dead, I could have had it done already. I think you know that, as smart as you are."

Jack narrowed his eyes. "Then what do you want?"

"A distraction. That's why I left the laptop for you to find. It gave me time to break into your car and take the other laptop. I've been trying to get it for days, but _ojō-sama_ takes it with her everywhere, unlike you."

Kamala clenched her jaw. "How long have you been following us?"

Okegawa shrugged. "Not long. Had to get everything prepped and tie up loose ends."

"Is that what we are now? Loose ends? It's broad daylight, man. You can't just shoot us and walk away. Hell, you've probably only got another thirty seconds before one of the Starbucks employees empties the trash and sees you."

" _Hai_. That's why you're going to toss me the laptop."

"Or you'll shoot me?"

What little light there was in Okegawa's brown eyes sputtered out. " _Hai_."

"You just said you didn't want me dead."

Another dispassionate shrug. "I'd prefer not to, but if you push me, I will retaliate."

"Jack," Kamala whispered.

He glanced at her. She kept her eyes on Okegawa, but her tone was enough. He exhaled and tossed Okegawa the laptop. It landed at his feet, shattering several pieces over the concrete with a loud crash. Okegawa flinched on instinct, his eyes snapping towards it for a split second.

Kamala took her Taser out of her pocket and shot it at Okegawa.

Okegawa screamed as the electrified prongs hit him. Jack pulled Kamala down into the dumpster as the gun went off twice, tearing two chunks out of the wall where he'd been standing. They both lay panting in the garbage heap as they heard a thud and then nothing. Jack motioned for her to stay put and slowly rose to his knees, peeking over the rim of the dumpster.

Okegawa lay on the ground, twitching occasionally, his eyes shut, teeth clenched, the gun lying several feet away.

Jack scooped Kamala up in his hands with a hysterical laugh, holding her above his head. "You. Are. Freaking. _Brilliant_."

Without thinking, he gave her a jubilant kiss on the mouth and then put her down before climbing out of the dumpster. "Call Stubbs. I've got this."

Jack grabbed the gun and unloaded the magazine, tucking it carefully in his coverall pocket. He then unbuckled Okegawa's belt and then flipped him onto his back. He knelt and used the belt as an improvised pair of handcuffs.

The back door to the Starbucks opened and the manager, a thirty-something blonde, spilled out looking pale. "What's going on out here?"

"Oh, nothing much," Jack said, casually sitting down on Okegawa's supine form and grinning wolfishly as the man groaned in pain. "Just apprehending a criminal."

"We heard gun shots. Are you two okay?"

"Stellar. Don't worry. The cops are on their way. Sorry about the noise."

She nodded shakily and slipped back inside, telling her employees to do the same as they tried to crowd around the exit.

Kamala hung up her phone after finishing the call. "Well, Stubbs is on his way. And he doesn't sound too happy about us investigating on our own."

"It's to be expected. I'll take the punishment as long as we get some answers."

Jack glanced down at his captive. "Comfortable?"

"Gurk!"

"Oh? Having trouble breathing, are we? My fault. I should really lose some weight."

"Ack!"

"Really? You think so? I guess you're right. No point improving on perfection."

~*~

"I only have one question," Detective Stubbs said with feigned calm and patience. "Do either of you have _any_ idea how reckless you were? Or how lucky you are to be alive right now?"

Jack sipped his third cup of coffee that morning, having tipped the staff so generously that his wallet was empty. "Probably."

"Probably? You could have gotten yourselves killed. Not to mention one of the staff members could have stumbled out here in harm's way. I'm about half a second away from charging you with reckless endangerment and obstruction of justice."

"We understand, detective," Kamala said. "We had no intention of endangering anyone else. We had no idea that Okegawa would show up here. It was an egregious oversight on our part. We've already apologized to the staff and its patrons for the disturbance, and we're fully willing to cooperate with anything you would have us do."

"Well, one thing you might do is explain how a civilian got access to a type of Taser that isn't legal to own," he said, narrowing his eyes. "But for the sake of plausible deniability, I'll let that one slide for now." Stubbs sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Look, it's pretty admirable that you were able to apprehend the guy. You might have just cracked this case. But, I can't have you interfering from this moment on. Do you understand me? I want you back at MIT, in your lab, working on your project and schmoozing talk show hosts. No more gumshoe work."

"Yes, detective."

Stubbs waved a hand. "Oh, I trust that you have the sense to know better, Dr. Anjali. It's this lummox I want to hear it from."

"Hey," Jack protested.

Stubbs glared. "Say it. Say the words. All of them. Or I'm taking you in right now."

Jack met his gaze levelly until Kamala elbowed him in the side. He scowled and said, "I will not interfere with the case from here on out. Happy?"

"Ecstatic. Go get yourselves cleaned up and then meet me down at the station. We'll start the interrogation and keep you apprised of what we can get out of Okegawa."

"Yes, sir."

Stubbs turned and nodded to the tall Hispanic man on the driver's side, Detective Julio Faraday, before stepping into his police car. Okegawa sat in the back, his hands cuffed behind him, staring intently at Jack. Jack smiled sweetly and blew him a kiss. Okegawa kept staring as Faraday started up the car.

Then, just before they drove off, Okegawa cracked a smile and winked.

The bottom of Jack's stomach dropped out.

He turned to Kamala, pointing at the police car as it wove into downtown traffic. "Did you just see—"

Kamala pushed his arm down. "He's trying to mess with your head. Relax. They got him. It won't be long before we recover Pete."

Jack took a deep breath. "Right."

He turned towards the manager one last time. "Again, sorry for the incident. If you don't mind, I'd like to buy your staff lunch for your trouble."

She shook her head. "Trust me, that enormous tip you left made them plenty happy. Not necessary. Good luck to you guys on nailing that jerk."

"Thank you. Have a good day." Kamala and Jack headed back to her car. Thankfully, Okegawa hadn't punched through the window to get inside; instead, he used a device called a Slim Jim to crack the door and then unlock it. The police had already swept it for prints and fibers to prove he'd broken into it, but the results were negative. They were free to go.

They drove to the Fairfield Inn off of Monsignor O'Brien Highway and headed up to their rooms, which were across from each other. After thoroughly hot, cleansing showers, they met in Kamala's room to see what Faye wanted.

She sat at the desk pushed against the far left wall by the window, shoulders hunched, a pair of reading glasses perched on her nose, as she squinted down at some kind of electronic device.

"Faye," Jack said, toweling off his unruly hair.

"Jack," she said without looking up. "Kam tells me you caught Okegawa."

"Yep."

"And that it was all her and you were totally useless."

"I wasn't totally useless." He paused. "I mean, I sat on the guy after Kam tasered him. That counts for something, right?"

She snorted. "Right. Well, congratulations. Hopefully they get him to 'fess up. Any luck with Dr. Yagami?"

"Last time I checked, he's still AWOL," Kamala said. "The police are looking into it."

"We might not have to depend on the cops. I had an idea. What if we cut out the middle man and just find the dragon?"

Kamala and Jack traded a glance and then chorused, "How?"

She turned to face them, her blue eyes bright. "Remember the physical exam after Pete was born? How her maturation was at such an exponentially fast rate? You told me that because of her unusual genes, Pete grows a little each day, and as a result, she sheds her scales frequently. She's very small, and if they're transporting her in some sort of cage, there is bound to be a trail. I'm not sure it's something they would have noticed. Every time they opened a car door or a trunk, when they transported her to different places, she could have left scales somewhere."

She tapped the Petri dish on the desk containing the aforementioned tiny grey scales. "That's why I asked you to bring the samples from the lab. I think I've found something that can track them. At the very least, it would narrow what area of the city to search."

"So, you made a dragon GPS?"

Faye scowled at Jack. "That's putting it rather crudely, but yes."

"Honestly, I'd kiss you right now if I didn't hate you so much."

She winked at him. "Still a good excuse."

Kamala hid a smile. "How long before you think you can get it up and running?"

"I've already ordered the parts I need and put overnight shipping on them. I should have a prototype by tomorrow night."

"You are the best, _saheli_. I can't thank you enough." Kamala squeezed her tight in a hug and then went to grab her keys. "We've got to go to the precinct. Call us if you need anything."

"Break a leg! And maybe a kneecap too."

~ * ~

Jack and Kamala weren't entirely sure what to expect when they arrived at the 1st precinct of the Cambridge police department.

But they certainly weren't expecting it to be a madhouse.

Detectives and officers were darting back and forth, handing each other folders and files. Some were at their desks on the phone, scribbling into their notepads, while others were at the bullpen, discussing something on a large map of the city pinned to a whiteboard. Worse still, there was no sign of Detective Stubbs or his partner Faraday. The ice-bucket feeling in his stomach Jack had earlier in the day returned tenfold.

They approached the nearest desk with a detective sitting at it. "Excuse me, but what on earth is going on?"

The detective, a thin black man, had his desk phone pinned between his ear and shoulder and glanced up at the two of them. His brown eyes widened in recognition. He swore and told the person on the other line that he'd call them back.

"You're Dr. Jackson, right? That MIT scientist who made the dragon?"

"Yeah. Why?"

The detective exhaled. "Follow me."

Jack and Kamala exchanged worried glances and followed him. The detective led them to the largest office in the precinct. Inside stood a grey-haired man in a charcoal suit and a short-haired brunette woman in a black pinstriped suit. The woman had her arms crossed and the older man appeared to be telling her something that made them both seem gaunt.

The detective opened the door for Kamala and Jack, shutting it behind them. The man and woman inside the office went silent, offering frosty stares.

"Yes?" the man asked.

"Sir, this is Dr. Rhett Jackson and Dr. Kamala Anjali, the scientists Detectives Stubbs and Faraday were assisting."

The older man sighed. "Oh. Thank you, Robbins. I'll take care of it." He left.

"Take care of what?" Jack asked. "What the hell is going on?"

"Dr. Jackson, Dr. Anjali, my name is Captain Ed Burns." He gestured to the woman standing nearby. "This is Agent Michelle Dunham. She's with the FBI."

"So I take it our request for escalation went through?" Kamala asked.

"Escalation is an understatement, Dr. Anjali. Approximately ten minutes after you left his company, Detective Stubbs' police car was ambushed by an unmarked SUV on the way to this precinct."

Jack paled. Kamala's jaw dropped. "What?"

"Eyewitnesses saw three assailants. One female, two male, all dressed in black with bulletproof vests on and equipped with automatic weapons. They rear-ended the car, shoving it onto the sidewalk to keep him from getting away. Stubbs was forced to exit the vehicle and took cover behind it. He was shot twice. He's in critical condition at CHA. Faraday returned fire, but he was hit as well. They took them both in for surgery a few minutes ago. The suspects fled after collecting Okegawa from the backseat. Witnesses said they were headed east, but there wasn't a patrolman close enough to verify where they went. We're conducting a citywide manhunt as we speak."

Jack sank down into the chair by the door. "I can't believe this."

Agent Dunham came forward, her countenance softening somewhat. "I know this is a lot to absorb, but time is of the essence. Have you noticed anyone following you?"

He raked his hands back and forth through his hair. The room tilted sideways for a minute and he realized he hadn't breathed in a while. "No, I... aside from maybe the press. Their interests seem to be my home or the lab. I haven't seen anyone while we were out investigating."

"What about you, Dr. Anjali?"

"Not that I can recall. How long before the detectives get out of surgery?"

"An hour, maybe two," Captain Burns said. "I understand that you've been working with Stubbs since this afternoon?"

"Yes, sir."

"Then we need to know every single thing he knows. Down to the last detail, no matter how minor it may seem."

"We were just with him," Jack muttered, shaking his head. "Why?"

Kamala laid a hand on his shoulder. He closed his eyes for a moment. When he reopened them, they were harder than onyx. "We'll start from the beginning."

~*~

"You warned me."

Faye glanced up at him. "What?"

"The other day," Jack whispered, staring into the surgery room where the body of Detective Stubbs lay.

A white sheet had been draped over him only a moment ago. The surgeons were putting away their equipment and taking off their bloodstained gloves. Hospitals were always cold, but Jack swore that an unfathomable chill ran through his bones now, as if he'd never be warm again.

"You said that the world can turn nasty on a dime. That everything would change after we made those dragons. You were right."

Faye touched his arm, then slid her hand down until it was holding his. He didn't attempt to wrap his fingers around hers.

"You can't blame yourself for this. You can't. It'll tear you apart, Jack."

"I was naïve. I was arrogant. You're goddamned right I can blame myself for this."

She let go then, stepping in front of him. "And what is blaming yourself going to solve? Will it bring him back? Will it magically summon the sons of bitches responsible out of thin air? There is nothing you could have done to save him. You couldn't have seen this coming. No one could have. And if you want to honor his memory, his sacrifice, then don't you act like this is all your doing. He chose to get justice for this city. For you. For Kamala. Don't take that away from him by feeling guilty."

"Then what should I do, Faye? Say 'that's life' and just move on?"

"No. You take that pain inside of you and you use it." She pressed her finger to his sternum, stepping in close, lowering her voice. "Use what you know, what you've been taught, to help them find these bastards and bring them to justice. You owe it to Stubbs and yourself. You can't afford to fall apart now. They need you."

"Faye," he said softly. "He had a wife. She's here. Right down that hallway. I can't..." He struggled to speak for a moment. "How can I go out there and face her?"

She touched his cheek. "You know how? Like this. You met him five hours ago and you're this torn up about what happened. She'll understand that you didn't do this to him. We don't get to choose how we feel, Jack. It just happens." Faye lifted onto her tiptoes and kissed his cheek. "I'll be here if you need to talk, alright?"

"Yeah."

She squeezed his shoulder and left the observation room. Jack pressed a large hand to the cold glass and leaned his forehead against it, his breath fogging up a circle on its surface.

"I'm so sorry."

He found that Stubbs' wife, Evelyn, wasn't alone in the hallway. Kamala had her arms wrapped around the grieving widow and was murmuring something in her ear. Jack's feet dragged like anchors along the bottom of the ocean, but he walked over to them after they separated.

Evelyn was olive-skinned, tall, and willowy, with thick black hair that fell to her waist in a loose braid. She had tissue clutched in her hand and mascara smudged down her cheeks. The second their gazes met, he knew he'd never forget the sorrow in those soft grey eyes.

"Mrs. Stubbs," Jack said. "My name is Rhett. I am so sorry for your loss. He was a good man. If there is anything I can ever do to help you, please ask it of me. Anything at all."

She didn't say anything at first. Jack held his breath. She reached out a hand and touched his arm. A watery smile found her lips.

"Thank you."

Several minutes later, they were sitting in two seats outside the room where they'd brought Stubbs' body before it would be transferred to the morgue. Jack bought green tea from the cafeteria and they sat together sipping it.

"How old was he?" Jack asked gently.

"Forty-one." Evelyn smiled. "He always said he never felt his age, though. Like he was still that cocky twenty-four year old he saw in the mirror every morning."

"Are you both from here?"

She shook her head. "I grew up in Chicago. Moved here eight years ago when I became a sous-chef at the place where I work now. He was a regular customer, and one day we bumped into each other outside. After we got to know one another, it just sort of clicked." She gestured towards Kamala, who stood at the end of the hall speaking with a doctor. "What about you? How long have you been together?"

"Just over a year," Jack answered. Then he backtracked. "Professionally, that is. We're not a couple. Just partners."

"Oh. She's very kind."

"Yeah. A million times tougher than me too."

Evelyn turned the to-go cup in her hands, staring at them. "They told me it happened because of the high profile case he was working on. The man who escaped had something to do with the dragon you created. Is that true?"

Jack swallowed hard. "Yes."

"I'm not angry with you," she said quietly. "Men make their own decisions. Colin loved his job. He was good at it. Smart. Determined. He loved a challenge. I knew it was always a possibility that I'd lose him because of that ambition of his. I'm proud that he became such a dynamic detective." Tears slipped down her cheeks. "But you must promise me that you will do all you can to help them find the people responsible. Everything in your power. It's not fair for me to ask that of you, but you offered. Find them. Stop them from taking someone else's loved one."

"I promise."

She touched his wrist. "Thank you."

Then she rose and walked into the room to say goodbye one last time.

~*~

"What did you talk to the doctor about?"

Kamala took a long sip of her tea. Her voice was almost normal when she answered. Almost. "Cause of death."

Faye glanced at her carefully. "You knew the cause of death."

Kamala shrugged, watching the EMTs exiting the ambulance, carrying an ER patient into the front of the hospital. "Needed to be sure they did all they could. No malpractice, no sloppy work in the surgery room. My father has significant influence in the medical world, being the head of the physician department at Columbia. If someone he taught didn't do their job, they could be reprimanded."

"I see." Faye linked her fingers and leaned on the railing, also watching the hectic cul-de-sac entrance. Life and death did their ancient dance several feet away. "Did he suffer?"

"Some," Kamala said softly. "He wasn't conscious by the time they brought him here. Probably passed out from pain and blood loss on the sidewalk. He got to see the sun one last time."

"How is his partner?"

"He's resting now. One hit in the shoulder, one in the side, and one graze in the leg."

Again, she sipped her tea and let out a long breath. They were silent for a long while.

"I forgot what it's like," Kamala said. "Seeing grief on a loved one's face. It's been over a year now, since I practiced medicine. Never gets any easier."

"Why do you think I'm an engineer?" Faye replied. "I remember you told me they expect you to approach every patient like they're a subject. That it can't be personal. I never understood how doctors and nurses were able to separate themselves like that. How they can keep themselves from feeling loss or anger or regret when nature takes its course."

"Sometimes you can, when your workload is heavy and you're only with them for a short period. Trouble comes when you get to know them personally. It's possible to have that disconnect when you're doing an autopsy, but never when you have to break the news to the family. Everyone feels it at some point. How can they not? Life is a clock. You have to face the hands of that clock when you tell someone the person they cared for has gone."

"Like I said. That's why I'm an engineer. Ignorance is bliss."

Ambulances came and went, their alarms whooping and screaming. Occasionally, doctors and nurses leaned against the wall and smoked. Patients in wheelchairs were loaded into cars to be driven home. Endings and beginnings crossed paths again and again.

"Are you sure?"

"What?" Kamala asked, looking over to see Faye's face. It seemed carved out of marble.

"What you're doing. Investigating this. Are you sure this is what you want to do?"

Kamala shook her head. "How can you possibly ask me that?"

"Kam, I don't think you know what you've gotten yourself into. It's one thing to want justice for the dragons, but this isn't something you can just passively observe. There's real danger here. Right here. In _your_ life. They gunned down a detective in broad daylight, in a major city. Look me in the eyes and tell me you're not in over your head."

"What would you have me do, Faye?"

"Step back. Look at the big picture. You can still rebuild what you've lost. In real life, the bad guys win all the time. Are you sure that this is worth your life? Or Jack's?"

"It's not about that."

"Then what is it about?" she snapped, her voice sharp and hard as glass. "Tell me what's so goddamned important that you're willing to take a bullet?"

"Jack made a call to an old friend of his. Fujioka. Lives in Tokyo. Works as a bodyguard for high profile individuals: bankers, celebrities, politicians, even some royalty when they pass through Tokyo. He put out feelers in the city to see if anyone matching Okegawa's description has a reputation there. Okegawa isn't just Yagami's best friend. He's a lieutenant of the yakuza in Tokyo."

Faye's eyes widened. Kamala pressed on. "Then he learned that Okegawa has connections to some of the premiere genetic labs in Tokyo. That's why he stole the data instead of just the dragon. He's not going to sell Pete to the highest bidder. He's going to experiment on her, so that he can make even more of them."

Faye bowed her head and gripped the railing between her fingers. "Shit. Then this isn't just about saving your baby, is it?"

"Not anymore. You've seen genetic experimentation before. What they do to these animals when it's legal is bad enough. A newborn dragon in the hands of a bunch of ruthless scientists being bankrolled by the yakuza is unspeakable. I will not stand for it. I will not let them torture an innocent animal for their own gain. You ask if I'm sure, and if this is worth my life. Maybe not. Life is precious. Life is fleeting. And I'm so scared I'm sick to my stomach." Kamala clenched her jaw, fighting back tears. "But I brought that little dragon into this world to make it a better place. I will not let them take her out of it so they can make something even worse."

Faye nodded slowly. "Okay. I understand."

She stood tall then, taking a deep breath. "I'll get back to work on the prototype. I'll call you when I've got something."

Kamala drew her into a hug. "Thank you, _saheli_. We couldn't do this without you."

Faye pretended that a couple strands of Kamala's hair got in her eyes, and that was why they were blurry with tears.

"I know."

~*~

The precinct felt hollow the second time Jack and Kamala entered it. It had only been a few hours since Detective Stubbs' death. Its occupants moved with brisk, almost harsh energy as they continued piling up the evidence, and finished interviewing eyewitnesses to the murder.

Captain Burns no longer had his suit jacket on; instead, it was draped over his leather chair. His tie was loose and his steel-colored hair had an unkempt look, as if he'd been running a hand through it for the last hour.

Agent Dunham's jacket was undone, exposing the Sig strapped to her hip, and her sleeves were pushed up as she flipped through the papers and photos spread across his desk. Once more, Detective Robbins brought the two scientists into his captain's office and shut the door behind them.

Burns nodded to them in greeting and then gestured towards the seats across from him. "Have a seat."

They did. Burns took a deep breath. "I'm afraid the news isn't much better than the last time I saw you. Detective Stubbs' murder gave us clearance to issue a warrant for Okegawa and his accomplices' arrests, but it came too late."

He pushed a surveillance screenshot forward. Jack picked it up and grimaced. Kamala did the same a second later. "Less than half an hour after they hit the car, Okegawa used a fake passport and boarded a plane back to Tokyo. His accomplices boarded with him. We're attempting to contact the authorities at the Haneda Airport, but we're getting a lot of pushback so far. If he's got people working on the inside at Haneda, the chances of apprehending him are low."

"What about Yagami?" Jack asked. "Were you finally able to locate him?"

Burns handed them a second photo. "Dr. Yagami touched down in Tokyo last night. I'm sure you know this is all but the smoking gun. The odds that he's not involved, considering his association with this man, are impossible. Even if he didn't organize this debacle, he is involved because he fled back to his homestead."

"The guilty man fleeth when no man pursueth," Agent Dunham said. "Unfortunately, it'll be twice as hard to investigate with him on the other side of the planet, where he has a lot of clout as the son of Japan's largest supplier of pharmaceuticals. I'm in contact with the authorities there already. My office is negotiating the terms as we speak. The good news is that we've identified at least one of his accomplices from the assault on Detective Stubbs' car. Her name is Aisaka Tomoda. We showed her sketch to some of the staff at your lab and the veterinary hospital, and got a positive ID. She's been seen here in the days prior to the dragon's birth. That takes us one step closer to finding the other suspects."

"What about Pete?" Kamala asked, then corrected herself. "The dragon. Was there any sign of her in the plane cargo?"

Agent Dunham shook her head. "No, they knew better. Even in a covered cage, someone would have noticed. We think they smuggled her aboard one of the shipments from the Boston packing facility. When we ran through the reports, we found an anomaly. One of the crew members was paid ten thousand dollars to put a crate on the plane without passing through customs. We have the plane's number, but it's possible it will make a stop on the way to Tokyo and the dragon will be moved again. They've been one step ahead of us this whole time, but that ends now."

"So, where do we go from here?" Jack asked.

"We'll continue gathering evidence stateside and building a case. Once we have that, we're going to go after Yagami and Okegawa full-throttle. No one murders one of ours in cold blood, in broad daylight, no matter who they are."

Dunham took a deep breath before continuing. "However, considering the fact that Japan is a non-extradition country, it will be a while before we're able to get boots on the ground for the investigation. Your dragon is already headline news that has changed the world. This will incite an international nightmare if Japan's brightest mind is being accused of conspiracy to commit murder, burglary, and robbery. We can't send our agents into Tokyo without the approval of the home office and the cooperation of the Criminal Investigation Bureau of the Tokyo Metropolitan police department."

"And how long is that going to take?"

"I can't say. With the nature of this case, we can get some momentum, but we're looking at days, possibly weeks. I'm sorry."

"Weeks, huh?" Jack spat, tossing Yagami's photo on the desk. "Plenty of time for them to do whatever the hell they want to our dragon and then make their own. Looks like our attorney was right. We're fucked."

"Dr. Jackson," Burns said sternly. "We are using everything we have at our disposal. This situation is unprecedented."

"Yeah," Jack said, standing up, his brown eyes flat and hard. "I bet it is."

He opened the door and stormed out without another word. Burns and Dunham shared a look and then glanced at Kamala as she rose as well.

"Dr. Anjali, I remind you that you are both representatives of this country, should you choose to take any action into your own hands. You won't have any support from either of our offices if you pursue this matter yourselves."

She nodded. "Understood. Keep us apprised."

~*~

Kamala often had trouble keeping up with Jack's long stride, but she could tell his mindset had changed by the way he stalked up the steps to the Fairfield Inn. His lantern jaw was set, his brow wrinkled in a frown, his shoulders perfectly straight, his hands curled as if he were thinking about making them into fists. He hadn't said a word the entire ride there. Not that he needed to. The time for talking had long since passed.

"Rhett!"

He froze midway through his path towards the elevator, and turned to see his parents sitting on one of the couches in the lobby. Edie jogged towards him and hugged him as soon as she was close, breathing out a sigh of relief.

"Thank God you're alright," she said after she'd drawn back, her hands running along his arms, as if searching for any injuries. "We heard about what happened to that detective on the news. What's going on?"

Jack glanced at some of the people who were murmuring and pointing to them and nodded towards a nearby small hallway. They followed him and made sure no one was within earshot before continuing. "The guy you saw in the janitor uniform, Kazuma Okegawa, is the one Stubbs and Faraday were transporting back to the precinct. His friends ambushed the police car and stole him out of the back. They're on a plane back to Tokyo right now."

"Jesus," Edie whispered. "Do you know why they did this?"

"Okegawa is connected to the yakuza over there, and he's got some kind of connection to the scientific community as well. We think he plans to experiment on our dragon and try to replicate her, or worse, make something else."

"What did the authorities say?" Richard asked.

Jack gritted his teeth. "They're doing their best, but it's not going to be enough. That's why Okegawa went back home. He knew he'd be protected there. The US government will have its hands full negotiating with the authorities to allow them to prosecute him for the murder. With him in the wind, we're back to square one."

"And the dragon? The news says there are unconfirmed reports that it's missing."

" _She_ ," Jack said. "She's missing. They took her the same night they broke into my apartment."

Richard sighed. "Boy, when you're in it, you're in it. What did they tell you to do in the meantime?"

Jack let out a bitter snort. "To get back to my lab and stay out of their way. Consider the dragon to be collateral damage, basically."

"That's ridiculous," Edie said. "They can't expect you to just sit around when someone stole your life's work."

"Well, it's the government, Ma. That's precisely what they expect me to do."

"Are the feds involved?" Richard asked.

"Yeah."

"Does the dragon present any sort of threat?"

"No," Kamala jumped in. "She's harmless. We project that she wouldn't grow any larger than a medium-sized dog, since her genes are spliced with the Komodo dragon. She doesn't blow fire, but it's too early to tell if she'll develop any other defense mechanisms."

"Then you've got a bigger problem," Richard said. "Because if they do something to that dragon that makes her dangerous, the feds won't just recover her. You know what they'll do if they consider her a threat to national security."

"She'll be put down," Kamala said.

He nodded. "I hate to say it, kids, but you're out of your league on this one."

"Like hell we are."

Richard leveled a glare at his son. "And just what do you think you're gonna do, boy? March into Tokyo, guns a-blazin' like the Duke himself? You'd be shredded the second you touch down there. You ain't exactly a man of action."

"Richard," Edie said sharply.

"You're right," Jack said. "I suppose I should defer to you, with all your expertise. Why don't you tell me what you learned before they kicked you out of the Army three years in?"

"For one, they taught me discipline and to respect my elders," he snapped. "Something you apparently know very little about."

"The people I respect have earned it. Call me when you do and maybe then we'll come to an understanding." Jack turned away to head for the elevators. Edie called after him, but he ignored her and kept going.

She glared at her husband then. "Damn you, Rick. For once, you couldn't keep your mouth shut."

"You heard what he said, Edie. The boy won't listen to reason."

"Yes, well, it's not like you were offering any for him to take."

"Tch. Kid never listened me when he was young. Why do you think he'd start now?"

"Because you're both supposed to be adults, you ass."

Richard scowled. "And you call me the stubborn one." He stalked off in the direction of the parking lot.

Kamala rested a hand on Edie's shoulder as she made a move to follow him. "No, let him cool off. Mrs. Jackson. I know it's hard, but I must advise you to fly back home. We don't want you to become targets too. I'll contact you once things calm down."

Edie shook her head. "I can't leave now, not when Rhett needs me."

"He will think more clearly if you aren't in harm's way. I have no doubt you can take care of yourself, Mrs. Jackson, but there are men out there who are watching us. Maybe even right now. The best you can do for your son is protect yourself." She locked eyes with the older woman. "Please, Edie. For Rhett."

"Dammit," Edie muttered. "I don't like this one bit, but you're right. He can't think straight when we're around." She rested her hands on Kamala's shoulders. "Keep safe. I know your work means everything to you, but your lives mean more. Take care of yourself. Promise me that you'll do that."

"Yes, Mrs. Jackson."

She wrapped Kamala up in a hug, whispering. "Look after my boy. He needs you more than he'll ever know." She let go and went after her headstrong husband.

Kamala watched her leave and then took the elevator up to her floor.

When she opened the door to Jack's hotel room, she could hear music thumping in the background, as he'd accidentally left the television on. Piano notes pulsed through the air. Drums thumped. She let the door slide shut and glanced at the television. _Dirty Dancing_. Solomon Burke's crooning voice filled the cold air, telling tales of one's need to cry.

Jack stood in front of his king-sized bed, his suitcase open, and he was filling it with clothing. He didn't glance up at her as she walked over, her arms crossed.

"So," Kamala said mildly. "That went well."

Again, Jack said nothing. He just kept packing his clothes.

"Am I to assume this means we're heading to Tokyo?"

"There is no we," Jack said stiffly. "I'm going. You're staying here to finish working on the project and stay updated on the case. It's too dangerous."

"Too dangerous for fragile little Kamala Anjali?"

He glowered at her. "Don't. Just don't. It has nothing to do with you being a woman."

"Then what does it have to do with, Jack?"

He walked past her towards the bathroom. "We're not having this conversation."

Kamala stuck her foot out and tripped him.

Jack crashed to the floor with a groan. "What the hell, Kam?"

He rolled onto his back and then she was suddenly on top of him, her hands flat to the floor on either side of his shoulders, her knees pinning his wrists at his sides. He stared wide-eyed at the livid fury on her beautiful features.

"Let us get something straight," Kamala whispered. "First, you do not order me around like I'm your servant. You do not make decisions for me. Second, yes, it is too dangerous to fly to Tokyo alone and fight the yakuza to get our dragon back. That is why I am going with you. I am a medical doctor and a scientist, and I will be able to not only help find her, but patch you up should your stupidity cause you grievous injury. Third, we will leave the care of the project to Matt. He can assign someone in our field to continue in our stead, and keep this technology out of the hands of someone who would misuse it. Fourth, your mother charged me with taking care of you, and I have agreed to do so. But if you ever strike such a tone with me again, you'll find yourself in sixteen different pieces floating in the Hudson River. Have I made myself clear, Dr. Jackson?"

Jack gulped. "Yes ma'am."

Then, like magic, the terrifying look in her copper eyes vanished and she sat back, seeming unfazed that she was in fact straddling him. "Now then. What do we need for the trip?"

"I, uh, have a list."

"Good. I will take care of the supplies and the plane tickets. Anything else?"

"Yeah, I've got one more stop to make before we go to the airport."

"Very well. Let's get going. Time is short."

With that, she stood and walked out of the hotel room to gather her things.

Jack stayed on the floor for a moment, staring up at the ceiling. _I have the weirdest boner right now._

~*~

"Two questions," Kamala said, shifting her Volkswagen into park. She squinted past the lit streetlamp outside of a two-story house not far from Harvard Square. It was disturbingly picturesque, featuring perfectly manicured lawns, white fences, trimmed hedges, and neatly engraved names on all the mailboxes. Sprinklers clicked and sprayed water in their nightly ritual over the neat grass of each yard.

"Go for it," Jack said, undoing his seatbelt.

"One, what are we doing here? Two, why do you have a Ziploc bag full of ice?"

"Excellent questions indeed," he replied, cracking his knuckles. "Which you'll be getting the answers to momentarily."

Jack exited the car and walked briskly across the street, waving politely to a woman passing by walking her dog. He jogged up the front steps of the house and rang the doorbell.

A moment later, a handsome twenty-eight year old blond man opened the door. He wore a black tank top, loose pants, and noticeably expensive running shoes.

He flipped his light hair back from his brow and offered Jack a bored look. "Whatever you're selling, I'm not interested. I'm on my way out for a run and there's a martini at the Commons with my name on it."

Jack smiled.

Then he cocked his fist and broke the man's nose.

The man collapsed to the porch with a hysterical cry of pain, clutching his face and rolling onto his back as blood spurted down his shirt. He took several wheezing gasps and stared up at Jack with tears in his eyes, his voice hoarse.

"W-Why?"

Jack's smile vanished. He knelt in front of the man, who flinched away, and murmured.

"You know why."

Then, he stood and walked back to the car, where Kamala stared open-mouthed at the mailbox, which clearly read: _J. McGruder._

Jack got back in the car, strapped his seatbelt on, and settled the bag of ice over his right hand.

"Alright, let's go pick up Faye."

~*~

"So are you two dunderheads going to tell me what happened to Stilts' hand?" Faye asked, staring at the bright red flesh across his knuckles.

Jack and Kamala shared a look and then spoke in unison. "No."

Faye rolled her eyes. "Fine."

She reached into her backpack and withdrew a modified Radio Frequency scanner, commonly known as an RF gun, the kind used in most retail settings. "Again, I remind you that this is just a prototype. I configured it to locate Pete's DNA from within a three mile radius. That's the closest I can get you. The range works best when you have a fresh sample, but it can work with the older scales in a pinch. If the heat is on, you can turn off the sound and follow the screen, otherwise, it beeps when you get closer to her. It can run eight hours at a time. I packed a couple of rechargeable batteries in there just to be safe. Don't forget that and don't lose it. I'm going to build a real locator from scratch while you're gone, so this will have to do in the meantime."

She handed the device to Kamala, who analyzed it before tucking it inside her own backpack. "Call me the second you land. Don't care what time it is here. You let me know you're safe and you tell me what you find. This is all I can do for now, but I'm here if there's a problem with the locator. It's new tech, so I'm sure it'll need some troubleshooting."

"Thanks, Faye," Jack said. "Really. I owe you one."

"You take care of her, Jack. Do you hear me? If anything happens to Kamala..." She clenched her jaw and stepped close to him, her eyes like bits of frost on a window pane. "I will find a construction site and bury you in concrete. Alive."

Kamala sighed. " _Saheli._ "

"You certainly have a way with subtlety, don't you?" Jack said, but his gaze didn't waver. "Nothing's going to happen to her. I promise."

Faye stared him down for a bit and then nodded. "Good." Then she grabbed him by the lapels, yanked him down to her height, and kissed the living daylights out of him.

After she let go, Jack blinked at her, bewildered. Faye batted her eyelashes. "For luck, stupid."

He licked his lips. "Ah. Right. I think Kamala could use some luck too."

Kamala punched him in the arm and he tossed her a playful crooked grin before picking up his suitcase and nodding to Faye. "Hold down the fort."

"I will."

Kamala hugged her. "For the love of Vishnu, try to stay out of trouble."

"As long as you do the same. Go get 'im, babe."

They gathered their things and headed into the security checkpoint of the Logan International Airport, and to the unfamiliar world lying ahead.

# CHAPTER SEVEN

THE IRON MAIDEN

Jack was no stranger to international travel, thanks to his background in microbiology and genetics. A year prior, he'd been invited to do a lecture about his project at Cambridge University in England, so his passport had already been renewed. He'd expected to be on the road after its success. Kamala had also been along for the ride, though she took a yearly trip with her parents to Bangalore and Islamabad to see family, and always kept her passport current. Both were used to seeing large airports and towering buildings, but Tokyo was a different animal entirely.

After walking off the plane, they were treated to towering steel and bright lights, and the constant buzzing, shuffling masses of its traveling occupants. It seemed to be a mash-up of modern technology and elegance: efficient, awe-inspiring, and nearly overwhelming. There were businessmen holding expensive suitcases, women in kimonos kissing their relatives goodbye, visitors taking pictures of the interior, veteran travelers grabbing a bite to eat at the bars. The escalators rumbled in the distance and a tinny voice announced flights and policies every so often. Haneda International breathed and sighed like a gigantic creature in charge of its own ecosystem.

Once they'd collected their luggage, rented a portable Wi-Fi router for their devices, and finished up with the currency exchange, Jack and Kamala set out towards the pickup area. Taking a late flight out of Logan airport put them in Haneda slightly after one in the afternoon, so the sun was high and everything in the city was in full swing.

Jack checked his watch. "Man. It's going to take a while to get used to this time zone. It's like flying straight through a time warp."

"Agreed," Kamala said with a yawn. "Even with that nap, I'm already starting to feel the jet lag sink in. Where's our ride?"

"Should be here any second." He squinted up at a sign, cocking his head to one side. "Pretty sure this is the right place."

"You should be after twelve straight hours of Japanese audio-visual lessons."

"Well, at least there's an app for it if some of it didn't sink in," he replied, brandishing the phone. "Should get us in the general direction in case we get separated from our translator."

"This translator," Kamala said, eying him. "You haven't said much about him aside from you've known him for a few years. How did you manage to convince him to help us considering how dangerous this investigation has been?"

Jack scratched the back of his neck. "Yeah, about that..."

"Ahem."

They both turned to see a Japanese woman in a black pea coat, grey slacks, and suede boots standing there. She was in her early forties, tall, lean with muscle, and lovely with graceful cheekbones and deep-set eyes. Her hair was shoulder length and had rich, dark brown highlights, and her posture had a lazy grace to it, as if she were completely relaxed but capable of spectacular power at a moment's notice.

A slow smile crawled across her lips. "Jack. You look good. Been working out?"

Jack smiled back. "Nope. It's the overcoat. It flatters my curves."

The woman laughed softly, as if it were something unfamiliar that she didn't do often. "Right. My mistake."

The woman glanced at Kamala and extended her hand. " _Sumimasen_. I'm Misaki Fujioka."

Kamala offered her hand. "Oh. Jack didn't mention you were a woman."

Fujioka lifted a thin eyebrow. "Is that a problem?"

"Not at all. Merely an oversight. I'm just surprised since he mentioned something about being a bodyguard, and female bodyguards aren't as common as they should be. _Hajimemashite_ , Fujioka-san." She bowed her head and Fujioka returned the bow.

" _Hajimemashite_ , Dr. Anjali. Come on. We need to get you settled so we can pick up the trail. We've lost enough time as it is."

"What were you able to find while we were on the way here?" Jack asked as they headed outside towards the parking lot.

"A starting point," Fujioka said. "I paid off a couple of nosy people in the lower rungs of Okegawa's operation and they told me the dragon was dropped off in Canada and then brought here on another plane. She's somewhere in the city right now."

"Good. We might have a way to track her."

"That's not the problem," Fujioka said. "The problem is that Okegawa put a bounty on your head shortly after he landed here."

Jack abruptly stopped walking. "What?"

Fujioka faced the two of them. "Well, on Jack, that is. He seems to have a thing for Kamala. I hear the hired gun was specifically instructed not to touch a hair on her head."

"How much is the bounty?"

"Ten thousand American."

"Bloody hell," Kamala hissed. "That's over one-point-one million yen."

Fujioka nodded curtly. "Exactly why I'm hustling you towards the car. Odds are, someone was placed at the airport to keep an eye out for you."

Jack felt a sharp itch throbbing between his shoulder blades. He risked a glance around at their surroundings. "What's to stop them from sniping me while we're out in the open?"

"Not going to happen. They want you taken in alive."

"Why?"

Fujioka shrugged, getting the key fob out of her pocket. A black SUV chirped in the furthest space possible of the parking garage second level. "I have a couple of theories so far. Neither of them is all that comforting."

"I kind of assumed that with the whole 'bounty' thing," Jack said, opening the passenger door for Kamala and then climbing into the seat behind her. "What's the first theory?"

"They've started using your data to experiment on the dragon, but there is a piece missing, something they can't just research their way out of. They need your know-how to get things rolling."

"And the second theory?"

Fujioka started the engine and peered into her rearview mirror. "You pissed Okegawa off by catching him and he wants revenge."

"Oh, how unfair is that?" Jack grumbled. "Kamala's the one who tazed him."

Fujioka shrugged as she backed out of the space. "Men like Okegawa are born and bred sexist. He perceives Dr. Anjali as following your orders, and he has given firm instructions not to harm her. Unfortunately, you're taking all the blame, big boy."

"Damn my Y-chromosome. Why wasn't I born a woman?"

"Keep your head down until we reach my place. They might try to catch us in transit." She glanced at Kamala. "You any good with a firearm?"

"A handgun, yes. I've practiced on a range from time to time with my roommate, but nothing larger than that."

"Jack?"

"Hunting rifle. I'm pretty crap with handguns, but I can manage."

"Check underneath the seat."

Jack wriggled onto his side and felt underneath Kamala's seat, withdrawing a small leather case with a lock. "Code?"

"My birthday."

Jack flicked the buttons and unlocked the case. Kamala nearly did a double-take, but managed not to. He brought out a Heckler & Koch USP 9mm semiautomatic pistol, and carefully examined the weapon, ensuring that the safety was on and it was unloaded. The magazine was neatly tucked in the foam, its bullets already in place. "Nice."

"Keep that on you at all times."

Jack gave Fujioka a stern look. "That's all kinds of illegal."

"Do you want to get kidnapped, Jack?"

He sighed. "Point taken. Holster?"

"Underneath the foam."

He lifted the casing and found an underarm holster. He shed his coat and strapped it on before replacing the coat over it. It leaned into his ribs and made him want to reflexively flinch, but it didn't dig in too much. "What about Kamala?"

"Under my seat."

Jack reached beneath it and unlocked the second case, this time finding a .38 Miroku Special Revolver with twelve bullets nestled next to it. He whistled, examining it. "Now that's a pretty pistol. Where'd you get it?"

Fujioka offered him a humorless smile. "You'll have to earn that backstory. Hand it over."

Jack passed the case to Kamala, who found she could fit the revolver inside her coat pocket without much hindrance.

"I'll have to teach you both how to look out for a tail," Fujioka continued. "Okegawa employs mostly low level thugs to do his dirty work, but they're experienced nonetheless. All it takes is one small slip up to give them an opportunity to strike. We're going to establish a home base, so that if we somehow get separated, you know where to go. Always stay together. Two heads are better than one, as the cliché goes. People are predictable. They do what they've learned. Okegawa's thugs won't be used to you being escorted by someone who knows the area and someone who is familiar with the criminal element, so that's our advantage. You do as I say, the second I say it, no questions asked. If at any point you disobey me, our contract is terminated and I walk."

She sent a hard stare over at Kamala. "Understood?"

"Yes."

"Jack?"

"Got it. You're the _jōshi_."

"Your accent is terrible."

"God, I missed that silver tongue of yours."

Fujioka rolled her eyes, but the edge of her lips twitched momentarily. Once more, Kamala had to force herself to focus on the cityscape before them to keep from tossing a serious side-eye at their new bodyguard.

"Where are we headed?" Kamala asked.

"My apartment. It's in the Shinjuku area, which gives us access to the train without as much interference. I decided to drive this time so I could check out our route."

"What's it look like so far?"

Fujioka glanced in her rearview mirror. "Four cars back. I'm planning on losing him at the next intersection. I suggest you buckle up. We're going to have to run a couple of lights and circle back to my place."

They obeyed. Fujioka plodded along with the flow of traffic until her car was beneath the stoplight and then hit the brakes, waiting until it changed from green to red amidst the cavalcade of angry honks, then gunned it through the intersection, dodging several cars. She swung into the far lane and made a right, weaving skillfully between lanes until she was sure the tail hadn't been able to follow.

"Did you find anything on Yagami?" Jack asked.

Fujioka exhaled. "Yes, but you aren't going to like it. Okegawa wasn't exaggerating when he told you they were childhood friends. It took a bit of digging because they never appeared together in public. Okegawa is a part of the Yamaguchi-gumi clan. He's what you call _shateigashira_ , or the second lieutenant in their organization. He was an orphan who was brought into the fold when he was around ten years old. He's fiercely loyal to the family, and that's why they were brash enough to break him out of police custody. The modern day yakuza likes to stay out of the limelight, but Okegawa and his friends didn't get that memo."

"How did he end up meeting Yagami?"

"I wasn't able to confirm that story. Rumors say they bumped into each other. Others say it was Yagami's father, Makoto, who was associated with the yakuza back in the day and introduced them as playmates."

"Of the two theories, which one is more believable?"

"The latter, if you ask me. When Makoto first started his pharmaceutical company, he ran into some heavy competition with the ones already established here. Then, his competition started experiencing inconvenient legal issues and recalls on certain medicines. He swooped in to take away their customers. It's possible he's in business with the yakuza, where they helped Makoto sell his products for a fixed price, and slide him something under the table. In return, Makoto gives them substantial discounts and access to other illegal drugs."

"That might be another connection," Kamala said. "Okegawa might have working knowledge of the medical world and if he was friends with Yagami, then he might also be experienced in microbiology and biological engineering."

"Agreed," Jack said. "The question remains: Did Yagami put him up to this fiasco or did Okegawa decide to do something about it himself? With Yagami having to deal with the fallout."

"My gut says it's Okegawa," Kamala said, frowning. "Yagami is a dispassionate man. He isn't quick to impulsive actions or anger. He's too calculating to kick up a storm this way. Perhaps Okegawa acted in order to save his friend, and Yagami agreed to help him. After all, his own project was mere weeks away from falling apart. Now he has the chance to start from scratch and build his own empire."

"Too bad it's not his damn empire to build," Jack growled. "He's not building his castle on the bones of our dragon. Not if I can help it."

"Well, if you're done being morally outraged, we're here," Fujioka said, pulling into the parking garage. "We lost the tail, but I'd still keep your head down until we reach my apartment. It's unlikely he'll find us here. I make it my business to stay as anonymous as possible."

They got out, gathered their things, and followed her up to the two-bedroom suite she called home. Jack and Kamala slipped off their shoes at the doorway and walked in. The carpet was a soft, honey brown with a high ceiling and cream walls. A small dining room with burgundy floor cushions and a shrine sat to the immediate right, and the living area was straight ahead. Part of the kitchen was visible behind a rice paper wall in the far right corner and another for the tatami room across from it.

Fujioka led them through the tatami room to the guest room, sparsely decorated with a Queen-sized sleeping cushion and fluffy blue comforter, a desk with a PC and a single dresser.

She waved a hand at it. "This is all yours. The bathroom is to your left and my room is through there. Get comfortable and we'll start."

She shut the door behind her as she went into her room. Kamala stared after her momentarily before kneeling to unzip her suitcase. "She's very...abrupt."

"Yeah, bodyguards tend to be that way," Jack sighed, scratching at the holster beneath his arm. "Damn, this thing pinches. I kind of want to trade you for the pistol."

"Yet another mystery," Kamala said, checking the tracker. "That handgun she gave you is one that's usually carried by Japanese Special Forces."

"Uh-huh."

She leveled another stare at him. "Uh-huh. That's all you have to say?"

He blinked. "Um. Yes?" He backtracked as her eyes narrowed. "What's wrong? You seem... scary right now. More than usual."

"Jack, what do you know about this woman? How did you meet her?"

He sat and peeled off his socks and coat. "I was giving a lecture about three years ago at MIT. It was an open lecture, so some grad students and even prospective students were there. One of the kids there was Takahata Shinobu. His father is a prominent figure in the medical world and he was thinking about attending MIT. However, this was Shinobu's first trip to America, and his father was paranoid about the kid being alone. So he hired Fujioka to stay with him if he went anywhere other than the hotel. After I gave my lecture, the kid came up to meet me and we had a conversation. He was smart as hell, for his age, and afterward, Fujioka also became interested in some of the things I'd discussed."

Kamala folded her arms. "Was she now?"

Jack coughed. "Mm-hmm."

"And what happened after that?"

"She was with the kid for the rest of the day, but we went and had a drink that night."

"And?"

"And what? She left a week after that. We kept in touch via email."

"That's it?"

"What else is there?"

Kamala glanced at the door. "I don't get it. How much are you paying her to be our bodyguard?"

Jack scratched the back of his neck. "Enough."

"Jack. I will twist your fingers off one by one."

"Alright, alright, calm down. She's a grand per day."

Kamala buried her face in her hand. " _Saur mandal ke saare grah mere pichhe ghusa do_ _!*_ 1"

"If it makes you feel any better, that's the discounted 'we're friends' rate. Normally, she's three grand a day."

"I am going to strangle you."

"Look, we need the best of the best to find Pete and keep me from getting my throat slit by the yakuza. Fujioka knows what she's doing. I trust her."

"Why? It sounds like you barely know the woman."

Jack exhaled, softening his tone. "I know enough, Kam. She won't let us down."

"Yes, until you run out of money, and then we're screwed."

"Well, we'll jump off that bridge when we get to it. If worse comes to worst, I'll just have to prostitute myself. Ow! Let go of my ear!"

After fifteen hours on a plane, the shower felt like a God-send to Kamala. She resisted the urge to take a long time under the hot water and merely did a quick scrub-down so that they wouldn't lose any more time on the hunt for Pete. She'd needed the seclusion to clear her mind, and to determine why she had an ugly knot in her stomach as she continued thinking about Fujioka. Her instincts told her something was off and she hearkened to them quite often. For now, she'd bide her time and keep an eye on the two of them.

Kamala frowned at herself in the mirror. Two of them? Where did that come from?

She draped the towel around her neck to catch any stray droplets and opened the door to the guest room. She stopped short.

Jack was sitting at the desk against the wall, his brand new laptop out and open, his fingers flying across the keys. He was also shirtless. She hadn't seen him shirtless before.

For some reason, the first thing that went through Kamala's mind was, _Oh my_.

Jack was tall and long-limbed—a fact she'd of course known since meeting him—but he almost always wore two layers of clothing, even when he'd slept over. His shoulders weren't all that broad, but they were noticeably strong, and his biceps were defined in a way that suggested he'd always been fit and the muscles never went away. His chest was on the leaner side, but his abs were visible and cut in pleasant slopes, tapering down to his narrow waist. It wasn't a bad view...

He swiveled towards her in the chair after he heard the door open. The view was even nicer from the front. "Hey. I called Faye to let her know we landed."

Kamala blinked a few times and shook the distraction out of her head. "Did you tell her about the bounty on your head?"

"I conveniently forgot about that during our conversation," he said, standing. "She'd probably cheer if she heard someone wants me out of the picture for good."

"Nonsense," Kamala said, squatting to reach into her suitcase. "Then she'd have no one to torture."

"Point taken. Use up all the hot water?"

"Yes."

He heaved an exaggerated sigh as he gathered up his clothes. "Gee, thanks."

"You could use a good cold shower, judging by the way you keep gazing at Fujioka."

His jaw dropped. "I absolutely do _not_ gaze at her."

"Mm-hmm," she said without looking at him.

"You—I—just..." He ended the sentence fragment with a growl and walked into the bathroom, grumbling things under his breath.

After she heard the spray of the shower starting up, Kamala knocked on Fujioka's door and then entered after she was invited in. She found a room similar to theirs, but with mahogany walls instead of cream. Paintings of old samurai and ladies of leisure in kimonos adorned them, most of them signed by artists she didn't recognize. Her closet was large, but mostly empty, as she seemed to only wear slacks, button-up shirts, and boots in various muted colors: black, brown, deep grey, navy, and hunter green.

Fujioka sat in front of her vanity, brushing her hair. She flicked her gaze over to Kamala's reflection. "Yes?"

"If you don't mind me asking," Kamala said. "How did you and Jack meet?"

Fujioka lifted an eyebrow just barely. "He didn't tell you?"

"He told me. In a Jack sort of way."

"Ah," Fujioka said. "Zero details. Men often do that. Why do you want to know?"

"I like to know all the factors when facing a situation I've never been in before. I like being informed. It helps me do my job better when I have every available variable. It isn't personal, Fujioka-san. I don't know you. I'd like to know you."

"Not personal, you say?" Fujioka asked, setting her brush aside and picking up her comb. "Is that why you're asking me while he's in the shower?"

Kamala clenched her jaw a bit. "I thought you would feel more comfortable without an audience."

"What do you think I'm going to tell you?"

"That you slept with him."

Fujioka smiled. "Is that a problem?"

"Only if it's going to become a distraction for Jack. He's got enough on his plate. He can't afford to make mistakes when the stakes are so high. So again, I ask you, how did you and Jack meet?"

Fujioka gathered her hair together and began to plait it in a French braid. "Very well, Dr. Anjali. Since you were polite about it."

" _I'm impressed."_

Jack turned to see a stunning Japanese woman approach him after most of the students filed out of the classroom. He cleared his throat and tried his best not to stare.

" _Pardon?"_

The woman nodded towards the doorway, where Shinobu stood chatting with a couple of pretty girls. "The kid doesn't get star-struck much, but he pretty much gushed all over you. You're the first person at this institute he's done that to."

" _Well, he's young. He'll learn that I'm basically a big boring nerd in no time at all."_

" _Boring? A man who wants to bring a living, breathing dragon to life? I'm not sure you understand the definition of that word."_

Jack chuckled. "I've always been bad at English." He offered his hand. "Call me Jack. And you are?"

" _Misaki Fujioka."_

" _Is that your son?"_

" _If you think that spoiled little shit is my son, you're on drugs."_

Jack gave a start. "Oh. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to offend you. Is he a friend of the family?"

" _No, he's my meal ticket. I'm his bodyguard."_

Jack's eyebrows shot up. "Wow. Guess I didn't recognize his name. Must be quiteimportant. Is this his first time in the States?"

" _Yes. His father is overly precautious. I don't think anyone intends to harm the little baka, but for the rate they're paying me, I'll play babysitter for as long as they want me to."_

Jack couldn't resist a grin. "Not one for kids, eh?"

" _No. Good thing I never had one."_

" _Ditto. Well, this room is scheduled for a class soon. Why don't I walk you out?"_

Fujioka shook her head. "Better yet, why don't you buy me a drink tonight?"

Jack stared. "Ah. Okay. What time?"

" _I'm stuck with the brat until nine o'clock. After that, I'm free." She reached into her pocket and withdrew a business card, pressing it into his palm._

" _You pick the place. I haven't been to Cambridge before. You'll lose points with me if you choose poorly, so think it over and then give me a call."_

Jack swallowed and pocketed the card. "Right. Will do."

Fujioka smiled. "I'll see you tonight, Dr. Jackson."

She slunk out of the door, barking at Shinobu to get moving or she'd leave him there.

Several hours later, she pulled up to a Mediterranean restaurant called Oleana and glided inside. Jack sat at a table, bouncing one long leg up and down nervously until she appeared around the corner. He rose and pulled her chair out, which she permitted, and pushed her closer to the table before taking a seat himself.

Fujioka checked out her surroundings and then shed her coat, revealing a navy satin dress and silver necklace, as well as lots of smooth skin. "Went for broke, didn't you?"

" _Your comment about losing points struck a chord," Jack admitted a bit sheepishly. "I didn't want to disappoint."_

" _Been here before?"_

" _Yep."_

She tilted her head, examining him as he opened his menu. "Found it on Trip Advisor?"

" _Yep," Jack said. "Highest rated thing in the city. Please don't hurt me for lying."_

Fujioka let loose a demure little laugh that made him shiver. "Alright, you clearly haven't done this often, so I'll let you off the hook for now."

She opened her own menu. "And I only hurt people when they pay me to."

" _Good to know."_

They ordered food a little while later, as well as drinks, and after a couple of glasses of wine, Jack seemed to relax.

" _So, how did you get into the business of bodyguarding?"_

" _Is that a word?"_

" _Mm-hmm, totally."_

Fujioka sipped her martini. "Spent some time in Special Forces, but after a few years, I realized I was getting sick of following orders. I'm grateful for what I learned there, but it wasn't where I wanted my life to go. I like the freedom to do what I want. I'm an independent contractor and I choose who I work for. It's as simple as that."

Jack glanced this way and that, leaning in and dropping his voice. "So, if we got jumped by armed men right now, what's your first move?"

" _Well, I do have a big, strapping, handsome man right in front of me," she purred, trailing her fingertips across the back of his hand._

"... _to use as a human shield while I get out my gun."_

Jack choked on a laugh. "Oh, nice. Well, at least I'll die a hero."

He paused. "Wait, are you really armed right now?"

" _Yes."_

He dropped his gaze to her svelte body. "...where?"

Fujioka sat back a little as the waiters came over with their meals. "If this dinner is as good as it sounds, you might find out for yourself."

Jack blushed crimson and was happy to have food to distract him from that lovely little thought.

After dinner, they headed to Cambridge Common for a couple more drinks before going back to her hotel to have a proper good night.

" _So." Fujioka smiled slowly. "Care to come in for some terrible coffee?"_

Jack cleared his throat, lowering his gaze. "I'm... not sure that's a good idea."

She arched an eyebrow. "Seriously? You mean you don't want to?"

" _Wow. Um, no. That's not even close. I'm actively trying to keep my hands to myself and hide the tent I've got going on under this trench coat."_

" _Then what's the problem?"_

" _I've, uh... never done this before."_

She stared. "You're a virgin?"

" _God, no!" he practically yelped. "No, I meant... I've never slept with someone I've only known for a day." Jack paused, glancing at his watch. "Hell, not even a day. Almost exactly four hours."_

She chuckled and crossed her arms, leaning back against the car. "Aren't you old-fashioned?"

" _I know," he sighed. "That's probably why women aren't exactly kicking down my door to be with me. I've been in a few relationships before. I tend to take things slow. It's just how I am."_

She watched him for a bit as he shuffled expectantly, his expression guarded. "Okay. Here's how we fix this one."

She stepped in close, her voice soft but playful. "I've already let you wine-and-dine me, so there's no obligation to go on any further dates. I'm here until Sunday. That's six days. I usually work from eight am to ten pm, depending on the kid's social activities. How about I call you after I get off my shift and then come over to your place and we can spend a few hours screwing each other silly? After Sunday, we'll exchange emails and keep in touch, and you can go on about your old-fashioned ways unscathed. After all, it's not a one-night stand if I see you for a whole week."

" _Uh." Jack gulped. "I'm fine with that, if you are."_

She patted his chest. "I am. Now come on. Your tent is showing."

Fujioka stood and pushed in the chair to her vanity. "I could go on describing what happened after that, if you like."

Kamala took a deep breath and answered with a tight voice. "Not necessary."

"I mean, he's far more flexible than he looks—"

"That's more than enough, thank you."

Fujioka squinted at her and then a look of pure astonishment stole across her face. " _Oh_. You don't know, do you?"

Kamala gave her a confused look. "Know what?"

Fujioka shook her head. " _Bakayarou_. He didn't listen to a word I said."

"What are you talking about?"

"It's not important for now." She heard the door open in the guest room and motioned towards it. "Let's go."

She walked out. Kamala fumed to herself for a moment and then followed. Jack stood near the mirror on the dresser, doing up his tie.

"Ladies," he said in greeting. "What did I miss?"

"A lot, apparently," Fujioka said. "But we'll discuss that later. For now, I need to brief you both." She gestured a hand at Jack. "Our first problem is this goliath. He's going to easily stand out no matter where we are, since most of the people in this city don't top six feet tall. Aside from that, he's also relatively handsome, and some of the younger girls are going to flock to him like seagulls around a beached jellyfish."

"I was going to be flattered, but then you called me a jellyfish and it hurt my feelings."

Fujioka continued as if she hadn't heard him. "Our main objective is to stay in public places where it would be too hard for one of Okegawa's men to kidnap him. We're going to be walking a lot: me upfront, the two of you behind. Dr. Anjali, you will need to keep eyes on him at all times and immediately alert me if you see anything out of the ordinary."

Kamala nodded. "Done."

"Don't draw either of your weapons unless you're in a life-threatening situation. The first rule of firearms is: do not ever point a gun at something you don't intend to destroy. Some of the people we talk to might try to bully, intimidate, or insult you. Do not let it get to you."

Fujioka glanced at Kamala. "Especially you. In Japan, we still have to deal with learned behaviors like misogyny. You are quite beautiful, but to them you're a foreigner, so we will encounter some men who will either make a pass at you, or refuse to acknowledge your presence even if you speak directly to them. Don't lose your temper."

Kamala snorted. "It's not my temper you have to be worried about."

"Hey," Jack protested. "I knocked a guy out _one time_. Are you going to hold that against me for the rest of my short life?"

"Yes."

"Some people are just ungrateful. Ow!" He rubbed his arm where she'd hit him.

"She has a point," Fujioka said. "No heroics. You're a scientist. Be analytical. The people we're going to deal with will abide by certain rules of honor, but if you cross them, your life expectancy drops. When we're not out actively investigating, you will both keep brushing up on your Japanese. Some people here speak English, but it's very elementary and you'll need to be able to understand as much as possible if we run into anyone from the Yamaguchi-gumi clan."

She handed them each a small, slender folded map. "I have encircled meeting places in case the shit hits the fan and we are separated. Head there immediately and wait for two hours. If I'm not there by then, I've been compromised and you're back on your own. I'm going to recommend that if something happens to me, you chalk this up as a loss and go home. It's better than the alternative." She stepped closer to Jack. "Do not let them get their hands on you, Jack. They will extract the information one way or another and you will not leave Tokyo alive. Do you understand?" He nodded. "Good. Now, you mentioned something about having something to locate the dragon with?"

"Yes." He picked up the tracker. "This is prototype Faye developed. It can track the dragon's DNA and locate her within three miles. Pete sheds her skin frequently due to a genetic mutation, so there will be scales anywhere that she's been held."

"Smart. Keep it out of sight. If they figure out you have it, they might panic and move her again. I don't know where she is yet, but I have an idea where to start. We're going to talk to the guy who saw her smuggled in through customs."

# CHAPTER EIGHT

HITORI NO YORU

As far as safe places to rat on the yakuza went, Shinjuku Gyoen National Garden certainly wasn't a bad choice. Visitors tended to compare it to Central Park because of its beauty, elegance, and thousands of types of trees and flowers to enjoy. Around every corner was a new sight, a new smell, and colors bursting with life and vitality, whether it was by the water with its cherry blossoms or in the greenhouse filled with chrysanthemums. The weather decided to behave, granting the trio fair conditions to walk towards the meeting place.

Or, rather, _try_ to walk to the meeting place.

" _Sumimasen!_ " A couple of teenaged Japanese girls waved their cell phones and scurried over to Jack. " _Issho ni shashin wo totte mo ii desu ka_ _?_ "

" _Gomen nasai_ ," Jack said, a strained but patient smile on his face. " _Machiawase ga atte, isoideimasu._ "

They pouted, but he smiled wider and bowed formally at the waist, which cheered them up, and jogged to catch up with Kamala and Fujioka. By this point, it had happened so many times that neither woman even broke stride.

"Is this what it's like to be famous?" Jack grunted as he reached Kamala's side. "Because...no. Not for me."

"A little late for that, Jack," she reminded him. "You created a dragon, remember?"

"Shit. Guess I should have thought that one through. But at least then people want to take a picture with me for my scientific achievements instead of my looks." He clutched his chest, pretending to look deeply hurt. "I feel so objectified."

Kamala snorted. "Welcome to my life. Do you know how many times people at MIT have called me 'exotic'?"

"You're shitting me."

"Afraid not."

"How have you not become a serial killer by now?"

Kamala shrugged. "Too time consuming."

"...good answer. I'm starting to understand what you have to deal with on a daily basis, to some very limited extent. It's weird being the outsider for once."

"I'm used to it. It's the same as when people find out my mother is from Bangalore and my father is from Islamabad, so I know Urdu, Kannada, and Hindi. I find that people always want me to pick an identity, either Muslim or Hindu. It tells you a lot about perspective, doesn't it?"

"Yeah. We get so wrapped up in our own lives that we forget there are other ways to live."

He lifted his head a bit, staring into the treetops and the afternoon sunlight streaming in between the leaves and branches. "Not a bad way to be reminded, though. I could get used to this place. Fangirls aside, of course."

He nudged her with his shoulder. "How about you? Want an awesome private garden in that castle you're going to buy?"

Kamala grinned. "Of course. Where else will we grow our marijuana?"

"My God, you think of everything, don't you?"

"Oy," Fujioka said sharply, glancing over her shoulder. "We're almost there. Eyes and ears on, _kodomo_."

"Right," Jack said. "What's the guy's name again?"

"Sōsuke Iwamoto. If any of the wait staff or patrons appear to be eavesdropping, signal me by scratching your nose with two fingers. If I tap the table twice, it means someone's onto us and we need to go."

"Did anyone follow us into the park?" Kamala asked.

Fujioka cast her eagle eye behind them for a handful of seconds. "No. Or not yet, rather. Stay close."

They walked into the tea house and greeted one of the waiters, who found them somewhere to sit. Fujioka requested somewhere in the corner—a measure to control her vantage point and reduce the opportunity of being snuck up on—and they sat. Fujioka sat with a careful grace to her. Kamala mirrored her, but her shoulders were straight and tense. Jack was positively bubbling over with nervous energy, bouncing his leg up and down until Fujioka glared at him.

A moment later, a young man of no more than twenty-three appeared. He wore a hoodie, jeans so wrinkle-free they could tell they'd been ironed, and loafers. He glanced around before spotting their party and walked with hesitant steps towards them.

He stopped and cleared his throat, addressing Fujioka first. " _Sumimasen. Anata wa Fujioka-san desu ka?_ "

She nodded and bowed her head. "Iwamoto-san?"

" _Hai_."

" _Hajimemashite_. _Dōzo osuwari kudasai._ "

" _Hajimemashite_. _Arigato_." The boy sat next to Jack, his hands still tucked in his pockets.

Fujioka gestured to Kamala and then Jack. " _Kore ga Anjali-sensei to Jackson-sensei desu._ "

Iwamoto nodded to each of them and they did the same. Fujioka flicked her thumb across the surface of her phone and showed it to Iwamoto briefly. The boy's eyes widened as she explained something in Japanese and he responded eagerly.

"He's agreed to help," Fujioka told the pair of scientists afterward.

"Does he speak English?" Jack asked.

"Not much."

"Okay, then I guess we'd better get started. Ask him to describe everything he saw that night Pete came in through customs."

Fujioka folded her hands on the table. " _Anata ga mita mono o shiete kudasai_."

Iwamoto licked his lips and drank the green tea the waitress had brought for him a moment ago. He warmed his hands on the ceramic mug and then spoke in a low, hesitant voice. Fujioka listened for a couple of minutes and then began to recount the tale for them in English.

"Iwamoto-san wasn't supposed to be on shift that night. He had a friend who was in a bike accident, so he covered for him. He remembers a very odd sound coming from the cargo hold of one of the planes. He's seen live animals moved before, so that wasn't unusual, but the sound of the dragon was unique. He said... it sounded like crying. Not whimpering or chirping. Crying. Very weak, but he says it shook him to the bone. He asked his supervisor what was making that sound, but he was told to shut up and get back to work in his area. It bothered him, so he waited until the other workers were busy and snuck towards where he heard the cries. The dragon was being held in a clear container with holes, something that couldn't be shattered or immolated in a fire. One of the holes had a glove, so they could inject her with sedatives, and that's what they were trying to do. Iwamoto thinks she woke up after they landed, so they sedated her again and she went back to sleep. They loaded her onto the back of an eighteen-wheeler with two men and drove away. He didn't see a license plate, but he thinks that it was definitely a truck used to ship Sugimoto Pharmaceuticals. It had a red logo with the kanji for 'heal' in the center."

"Did he see in which direction they were headed?" Kamala asked.

Fujioka translated the question. Iwamoto shook his head.

"Did he get a good look at the men who loaded the dragon onto the truck?"

Fujioka asked. Iwamoto paused before answering.

"He says they weren't men who worked at customs. He thinks they paid off his supervisor and whoever landed the cargo plane to stay quiet. He saw a couple of tattoos on the men's arms and shoulders."

"Ask if he can draw them for us."

Fujioka asked and Iwamoto nodded. Jack reached into his jacket and withdrew a small pad and pencil, offering them to Iwamoto. He took them, glancing this way and that, and then drew.

"I've read that the tattoos can be very distinctive for yakuza," Kamala said. "Do you think it can give us a way to identify them?"

"Perhaps," Fujioka answered, watching the boy. "It can at least eliminate certain people from the suspect pool. There is a difference between modern tattoos and _irezumi_. _Irezumi_ are done by hand and it requires incredible skill and time. Tattoos aren't considered very acceptable, and so it's hard to find someone to do them for you. Each artist has their own style and no two are alike. We might be able to find out who did the ones for these men and narrow down who transported the dragon."

Iwamoto handed the two drawings to Fujioka. The first was a caricature of a woman in a kimono holding an umbrella with sakura petals falling all around her. The second was of a man in full samurai armor fighting a dragon. Fujioka tucked them into the inner pocket of her jacket.

Jack scooted forward a bit. "Can you ask him how large the dragon was when he saw it?"

Fujioka lifted an eyebrow, but complied. Iwamoto held his hands about three feet apart, and then about a foot high. Jack smiled faintly at Kamala. "Our little girl is growing up."

"Time flies," she agreed. "Can you ask him if he saw Okegawa or any of his associates?"

Fujioka went through her phone again and showed the photos to Iwamoto, who shook his head at each one. "Figures. Okegawa wouldn't be dumb enough to collect the dragon himself if the heat was still on him when he left the States. He'll be at a secure location setting up security and waiting for orders from Yagami."

"One last thing," Jack said. "Can you ask him why he decided to help us? He's putting himself at great risk for a couple of strangers."

Fujioka asked. Iwamoto's demeanor changed. He actually smiled shyly and twiddled his thumbs a bit, staring into his tea as he spoke.

"He says he saw the press conference you gave about the dragon. Someone in his lineage was a dragon hunter, and so he was intrigued to follow the story's developments. He says he's lived an ordinary life and being reminded of his ancestry lifted his spirits. He hopes very much that you're able to find your dragon."

" _Arigato_ ," Kamala said, gently touching his hand. Iwamoto blushed and nodded to her.

"Is there anything else you want to ask him?"

"No, he's been more than helpful." Jack tilted his head to the boy. " _Arigato gozai mashita_."

" _Dō itashimashite_. _Kōun wo_. _Sayonara._ " Iwamoto finished his tea, rose, bowed once more, and left the tea house, his hood raised over his head as he stepped out into the sunlight.

Fujioka took pictures of the drawings with her phone and started texting. "I'll send these to some of my former clients and contacts to see if anything pops. I don't have the clearance to get us into the customs facility, and we wouldn't want to do that anyway. Attacking the investigation head-on would be asking for trouble. We'll get in the area and see if your tracker can tell us where Pete is. If not, then finding the _irezumi_ artist is our best lead for now. Let's go."

The trio left the tea house and headed back towards the exit. About five minutes into their journey, Fujioka slowed up until she was walking with Jack and Kamala on either side of her. She smiled, but her voice came out low and emotionless.

"Turn right at that bridge up ahead and then stop. Hold hands."

"What?" Jack asked.

"We're being followed. I need to isolate our tail. Act like you're a couple. Smooches, cuddling, giggling, flirting, the whole nine yards. Don't look around. I'll come get you once I've taken care of him."

Fujioka then laughed loudly and slapped Jack in the arm as if he'd made a joke, and then pointed to the bridge. She headed towards a path on their left and disappeared from sight. "Well, that escalated quickly," Jack muttered, holding his hand out to Kamala. She took it and they walked to the bridge overlooking the water.

"You know, I've always wondered what extras talk about when they're on camera in movies," Jack said, leaning over the edge to stare into the shimmering water. "Are they saying nonsense to each other or actually talking?"

"No idea. Why?"

"I kind of feel like that's what we're doing. I can talk to you about anything, but now that I'm under pressure, I can't think of something to say."

"I can recite song lyrics in Hindi if you wish."

Jack grinned, though it was nervous around the edges. "That'll get his attention alright."

Kamala squinted up at him.

"What?" he asked.

"I don't think I've ever heard you sing before."

"Not unless you were in the shower with me, no. And trust me, it's a good thing. I'm tone deaf."

"Well, we are supposed to be the distraction. Sing something for me."

"Yeah, that's not happening."

She pouted. "Don't you love me, Jack, darling?"

Jack's heart threatened to jettison out of his chest cavity. "Of course, I do, smoochie-boochie."

Kamala smothered laughter behind her palm. "Smoochie?"

He brought her other hand up between them, playing with her fingers and stroking the inside of her wrist. "No dice, huh? What would you prefer? Pookums? Babydoll? Sugar woogums?"

Giggles shook Kamala's entire upper body. "Please tell me you don't give your significant other silly pet names in real life."

"Not usually, but you're special." He winked to complete the effect of his boyfriend charade. "What about me? What's my ridiculous pet name?"

"If we were married, _pati_ is the word for 'husband' in Hindi, but I'd want to give you something more personal." She tapped her chin, thinking. "I'd probably call you _yoddha_. It means 'knight.'"

He snorted. "In what world am I a knight?"

"It's not obvious at first sight, but you have a tendency to want to protect the people around you at great cost. I think it fits."

"Mm. Interesting. Not what I would have guessed, honestly."

"Why? What do you think I would call you?"

"Your dragon."

Kamala's breath caught for a second. "Why do you think I'd call you my dragon?"

He shrugged. "I lurk in darkness, growl a lot, and follow you around."

She laughed gently. "True, but that's pretty self-deprecating. Doesn't 'knight' have a much more positive connotation?"

"Probably. But you don't strike me as the type that needs saving, so maybe I am your dragon instead."

"At last, you're finally getting the picture. There is hope for you yet, Jack."

"Well, you were so subtle in teaching me. How could I not learn?"

She sniffed. "Hmph. I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Yes, because everyone sits on their best friend's chest and threatens to dismember them."

"Says the guy who broke my roommate's ex-boyfriend's nose."

Jack grinned again. "Man, I'm so subtle. I should've been a wizard."

The grin faded a moment later as he noticed someone behind Kamala. A man in his early-thirties with a high powered camera around his neck and non-descript clothing, stared at them from several yards away beneath a cluster of trees. He lifted the camera and snapped some shots.

Jack swallowed and resisted the urge to keeping looking at the man. Cold sweat gathered under his coat and itched along the nape of his neck. His grip on Kamala's hand tightened reflexively.

"What?" Kamala asked softly.

"I think our tail is coming this way. Fujioka didn't say how long she wants us to keep up the ruse. Maybe we should split. I don't want to get you in any more—"

Kamala reached up and kissed him on the mouth.

Jack briefly imagined his heart being loaded into a grenade launcher and then ejected into tiny flaming pieces all over the peaceful cherry blossom tree across from them.

He forgot about the possible member of the yakuza tailing them, the bounty attached to his head, the gun digging underneath his armpit, the missing baby dragon, and pretty much anything in the world that wasn't Kamala's soft, warm, full lips on his. It wasn't like the first time when he'd been deliriously excited that she'd caught Okegawa. That kiss had been a mere millisecond of sensation, it barely registered until much later that night, and once he was alone, he'd slapped himself in the face realizing what he'd done. His head spun like a Tilt-a-Whirl from the simple pleasure of the kiss, how she cupped the side of his cheek, how she leaned into it, how the faint scent of her daffodil perfume brushed his nostrils and filled his senses with everything that was her.

She pulled away several heartbeats later and the remaining word in Jack's sentence tumbled out.

"—trouble," Jack breathed, his voice—and knees—weak.

Kamala smiled faintly at the completely dazed expression on his face. "Better?"

Jack licked his lips. "...yeah, that's one word for it."

He couldn't dwell on what had transpired for long. The man with the camera was walking towards them now. Adrenaline shot through Jack's veins. He stood to full height and moved in front of Kamala, sliding one hand beneath his coat.

The man reached them... and stuck out his hand in greeting, beaming. " _Sumimasen, Rhett Jackson desu ka?_ "

Jack watched him warily. " _Hai. Nande desu ka?_ "

The man's smile widened and he launched into an explanation then, telling him that he had seen the press conference about the dragon and he couldn't believe it was actually him. Jack gleaned from the conversation that the man was a photographer who specialized in plants and wildlife and he'd been a collector of dragon's teeth for many years. By the time the man started showing him pictures of his collection, Jack figured out that it had been a false alarm.

The two scientists wished him well as he left and Fujioka reappeared a minute later, still walking in a brisk pace. Her hair was ruffled, but she appeared no worse for wear.

"So, what happened?" Jack asked.

Fujioka beckoned them as she kept walking towards the exit. "We came to an understanding."

"And that's code for what exactly?"

"I kicked his teeth in."

"Ah. How diplomatic of you."

"That's why we're walking fast. We'd better get going before someone finds where I stuffed him."

They exited the park and got back on the train, heading for the station nearest to Tokyo Customs Headquarters. Jack and Kamala calibrated the dragon tracker on the way, keeping their voices to low murmurs so as not to disturb the other riders.

They arrived at Telecom Center station and were greeted with the sight of the massive Telecom Center nearby: a shiny glass building shaped like a staple standing on its own. The station also put them nearby the Tokyo Wangan police station, which was a far-cry from most of the stations in the States. It sat as an island surrounded by a few trees and bushes with a crisp, modern grey to its impeccable walls.

The port was also visible from the train station and they could hear the low-pitched horns of docking freighters every so often. Once they reached the sidewalk, Kamala pulled out one of Pete's scales for Jack to scan so they can start their search. They examined a three-block radius, but didn't find any sign of Pete.

Fujioka brandished her cell phone. "Thankfully, we might finally have some good news. An old client of mine said he recognized the samurai tattoo on one of the yakuza. There's an _irezumi_ artist in Kabukicho who has a small shop. She likes to be called Yuzuki. Let's go shake the tree."

"Kabukicho?" Kamala asked as they made their way back towards the train station. "Isn't that a district where some of the yakuza have been sighted?"

"Someone's done their homework. Yes, it is."

"Aren't we walking into the lion's den? What if it's a trap?"

"Then we'll deal with it. If you need answers, we need to track down the man who helped transport the dragon. If you've got a better idea, I'd like to hear it."

"What about Okegawa? Your contacts haven't seen him since he landed?"

Fujioka shook her head. "No, he's too well-hidden."

"What about Yagami?"

Fujioka cut her eyes over at the scientist. "If Kabukicho is the lion's den, then Yagami's mansion is the dragon's lair. It would be unwise to provoke him at this juncture, Dr. Anjali."

"I refuse to believe he can't be reasoned with. He knows we're not going to stop until we get Pete back. There has to be room to negotiate."

"Dr. Anjali, if you feel so inclined to knock on his door and confront him about stealing your dragon, then there isn't a thing I can do to stop you. But keep in mind, that will terminate our agreement. I cannot guarantee your safety if you go looking for trouble. I'm here to protect you, but I'm not going to endanger myself in the process."

Kamala narrowed her eyes at the older woman. "You think he'll kill me."

"No. But I do think he'll use you to get what he wants."

"How so?"

"He made it clear that no one is to harm you. He made no such promise about Jack. I imagine that if you arranged a meeting with him, he would ask you to surrender the information he needs and he'll call off the bounty. If you refuse, he'll use you as a bargaining chip to get Jack to cooperate instead."

Jack grimaced. "He thinks I'm that gullible?"

"Not gullible, Jack. Vulnerable."

Jack swallowed hard. Kamala observed him through her peripheral and sighed quietly. "Very well. What about Yagami's family? There is disparity between him and his sister Keiko, as well as his father. Do you think they might turn him in if we asked for their help?"

Fujioka paused, thinking about it. "Bold. Offhand I'd say it's foolhardy. The Sugimoto family is infested to its core with pride. To suggest that Yagami stole the dragon would probably anger his father, and that's assuming he'd agree to meet with you in the first place. His sister is a different story. She's a snake. It's possible that she might offer him up just so she has a clear path to run the company, but sometimes blood is thicker than water. We'll consider it a last ditch effort if this tattoo artist can't get us on the right track."

After they entered the station, Kamala stopped to use the ladies' room. Jack and Fujioka waited outside, leaning against the wall opposite.

"So," Fujioka said. "Why the hell haven't you told Dr. Anjali that you're in love with her?"

"W-What?" Jack sputtered, gaping at her.

"You heard me."

"How—when—where are you getting that from?"

Fujioka rolled her eyes. "I watch people for a living, Jack. You couldn't be more obvious if you chained yourself to her wrist and followed her around on all fours."

"Jesus Christ, woman, you have zero tact."

Fujioka shrugged. "Saves time. And you haven't answered my question."

"Why is that any of your business?"

She opened her mouth, then hesitated. After a moment, she smirked. "Call it professional curiosity. You aren't the same man I knew three years ago. I thought you knew better."

Jack glanced around distractedly at the people passing by. "Is this really the place to bring that up?"

"We're not going to get much alone time. This might be my only chance to ask."

"Get used to disappointment."

Fujioka scowled. "Don't be patronizing. It irritates me."

"Lot of that going around, huh?"

"She asked me if I slept with you."

Jack froze. "She did?"

"While you were showering. I told her."

Jack stepped closer, his voice low and urgent. "How much did you tell her?"

"Not all of it," she said, and his shoulders relaxed somewhat. "But the fact that she asked me implies some very interesting things."

Jack blinked a few times. "Uh, like what?"

Fujioka rubbed her sinuses. " _Chikushō_. Tell me you're not still this naïve."

"Screw naïve. What are you talking about? What does that imply?"

"Let me guess: you haven't been in a relationship since I left, have you?"

Jack bristled. "That's... I don't see how that's relevant."

"Because you haven't learned a single thing since then. What possible reason could you have not to tell her the truth? Do you think you're protecting her?"

"It's not like that, alright? I just..." He ran a hand through his hair, avoiding her gaze. "...haven't found the right time. Things are complicated enough. I won't add to it. We'll worry about that when I don't have the freaking yakuza hunting me down like a dog."

"There won't be a right time. You know that better than most."

He snorted. "You're one to talk."

Fujioka's eyes flashed. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"You know damn well what I mean. Don't dig into my personal life and I won't dig into yours."

She lifted her chin slightly. "If you have something to say, then say it."

"You don't get to judge my timing after what happened the night before you left."

She crossed her arms. "You're acting like I did something wrong."

He laughed bitterly. "If you think that, then we really don't have anything else to discuss."

"You weren't supposed to get attached. I told you that when we began."

He leaned down to her height, his hard gaze burrowing into hers. "Neither were you."

"I'm ready," Kamala said, jogging towards them as she exited the bathroom.

Fujioka clenched her jaw and brushed past Jack towards the boarding platform.

"Let's go."

# CHAPTER NINE

STAB MY BACK

If there was a way to overdose on bright lights, crowds, and noise, Jack thought Kabukicho was certainly the way to do it.

Like Time Square in New York, the first things you'd notice are the and dozens of neon lights, advertisements, smiling beauties, and vendors eagerly selling their hearts out. A towering sign of overlapping crimson hung at the area's entrance, beckoning people deeper into its welcoming, nearly overwhelming grip. The sun had already set, so the nightlife was in full swing. Fujioka warned Jack and Kamala to stay linked together through the crowds, and she brought up the rear rather than walk ahead. Kamala was asked if she'd be interested in working for a maid café and Jack was asked to step inside one of the hostess bars to be served by gorgeous women. They kept a brisk pace and learned to say no without breaking stride to keep Fujioka from having to stop constantly.

The Painted Peach was a small shop buried at the center of Kabukicho, next to a thrift shop and an electronics store. The space had previously belonged to a food vendor. There was a thick glass front counter with a short-haired tattooed woman sitting behind it, flipping through a magazine. Sample tattoos on bright white paper hung all around the plate-glass window, bursting with colors. Everything from simple kanji and katakana to elaborate landscapes of rising suns and castles were depicted in the samples. People stopped to admire them before continuing onward.

The woman at the counter glanced up placidly as Jack, Kamala, and Fujioka approached.

" _Yokosō_."

Jack nodded to her. " _Yuzuki-san wa kanōdesu ka?_ "

The woman's eyes widened as he spoke, but she nodded. She walked through the narrow front of the shop, decorated with various vases, figurines, and paintings, behind a _shōji_ sliding door. A moment later, a tall, thin woman in her late thirties emerged. The right side of her hair was shaved down to a buzzcut with the left side long, thick, and glossy. Like Kamala, she had a nose stud, and rings adorning nearly every finger. She wore a black tank top and faded blue jeans over boots. Brilliant scarlet, violet, blue, and black tattoos of birds and flowers crawled down her arms.

She cast a brief glance at the trio before crossing her arms. " _Yuzuki desu_."

Fujioka stepped forward, tilting her head in greeting. " _Fujioka desu_." She gestured to Jack and Kamala in turn. " _Kore wa Jackson-sensei to Anjali-sensei_. _Watashitachi iru anata no tasuke_ "

Yuzuki eyed them. " _Dō shimashita ka?_ "

Fujioka explained their plight briefly and then showed her a picture of the tattoo. Through all of it, Yuzuki's distant disinterest was clear and she took her time before replying.

"She says she finished that tattoo about two months ago," Fujioka said. "The client had been coming by three times a month for four months because he wanted it done in the traditional style, not with modern technology. His name is Ken Nakamura. She thinks he might live in the Shinjuku area."

"Does she have any information from him?" Jack asked. "Phone number? Address? Credit card information?"

Fujioka asked. Yuzuki answered in a clipped tone. "She says he makes appointments in person and always pays cash."

"Dammit. Did he talk much when she did his tattoos?"

Fujioka translated the question. "She says he talked about moving up in the ranks recently, starting as a delivery boy. His next promotion would be enforcer."

"What about a meeting place? Do they have a watering hole in this area?"

Fujioka asked. Yuzuki paused. "She says a ramen shop a few stores down where some of them meet for supper. He might be there tonight with his friends."

Jack motioned for them to step a little further away from the front of the window and whispered, "What do you think? Should we go after him?"

"There is no 'we' in that instance. You would be as subtle as a tank that's on fire. Dr. Anjali would stick out nearly as much."

"Maybe we can use that to our advantage," Kamala said. "Like you said, attacking the problem head-on is asking for trouble. Do you think you might be able to pick-pocket his phone if we created a distraction?"

"That's dangerous. He could try to abduct Jack in the process. They've been circulating your picture around, so they'll know it's you."

"We're short on time here," Jack said. "Even if you tail the guy, what if he goes to a love hotel for eight hours? Pete's been gone for two days now and there's no telling what they've done to her. The longer we wait, the less likely we are to find her. If we get his phone, we might be able to get Okegawa's number, or the number of the person who ordered him to transport the dragon from customs to wherever she is now. It's worth a try, right?"

Fujioka exhaled through her nose. "Jack—"

"Please." Jack laid a hand on her shoulder. "Please, Misaki. At least give it a shot. If it falls through, then we'll head back to the apartment and you can tail him."

She held his gaze for a moment and then cursed under her breath. "Fine."

She turned to Yuzuki and bowed her head. " _Arigato gozai mashita_."

" _Hai._ "

Fujioka nodded towards the streets of Kabukicho. "Come along, idiots. Let's go risk your lives."

~*~

Ken Nakamura was short and thick with slicked-back hair and a silver ring on his left hand for good luck. He'd been brought into the Yamaguchi-gumi clan later on in life, after his father died, leaving his mother working two jobs to pay the bills. He fancied himself on the fast track to success, if he stayed the course. He had seen several of his friends get introduced to the _kyodai_ , or "big brothers," higher up in the organization, with the eventual goal of becoming one of the big fish. He'd found it easier than he thought to follow orders, and most of the time, his tasks were simple. Most people involved with them fell in line quickly. The only true threat was running into anyone from Inagawa-kai, a rival clan who mainly operated in Tokyo.

Needless to say, Nakamura was rather surprised when a tall white man stomped into the ramen shop and bellowed his name like he was god himself.

He slurped the remaining mouthful of noodles and swiveled in his chair, staring at the stranger in disbelief. He nearly fell off his stool. The man who owned the stolen dragon was standing right there.

He wiped his mouth on his jacket sleeve and stood, motioning for his two friends on either side of him to chill out. Nakamura smirked and shook his head.

"[What the hell do you want?]"

"You have information I want," Jack said, oblivious to the other patrons staring at him as if he'd completely lost his mind. "We need to talk."

"[Is he serious?]" One of Nakamura's friends asked, chortling.

"[Maybe he's drunk.]"

As if on cue, Jack took several stumbling steps towards the smaller man, glaring daggers with slightly unfocused eyes. He stuck a finger in Nakamura's face, scowling deeply.

"So, what's it gonna be? You gonna tell me where my dragon is or am I gonna have to mess up that pretty mug you got?"

Nakamura held up his hands and offered a knife-edged smile. "No problem," he said in accented English. "I will tell you exactly what you need to know."

Jack hadn't been punched in the face in years, but he still didn't remember it hurting quite this much.

Nakamura's buddies were on either side of him, holding his arms to keep him from escaping, while the kid worked him over in the narrow alley behind the ramen shop. The owner was apparently a friend of Nakamura's, so there wouldn't be anyone intervening unless they wanted trouble.

Nakamura stepped back and shook out his shoulders, rubbing his knuckles and frowning as he realized he's split them. Even on his knees, Jack was nearly as tall as Nakamura. His cheek had a shallow cut where Nakamura's fist had grazed it. Unbeknownst to his assailants, Jack had been angling his face between blows to minimize damage, but with blood running down his nose and mouth, he still looked pretty pathetic.

Nakamura spat contemptuously and jutted out his chin, still speaking English in a mocking tone. "Had enough, pretty boy?"

Jack grinned, his teeth painted dark red. Nakamura glared.

"What're you smiling at, bitch?"

"I'm really going to enjoy what she's about to do to you."

"She?"

Jack's eyes slid to behind Nakamura, but by then it was much too late. Just as he turned, Fujioka smashed Nakamura in the temple with a swift, beautifully executed roundhouse kick. He hit the ground face-first, unconscious before he'd even seen her.

His friends jumped back from Jack like they'd been electrocuted, gaping at the woman staring calmly at them as if she hadn't just dropped their friend like a sack full of cabbages.

"Run or fight," Fujioka barked, her dark eyes narrowed at the remaining men. "Choose."

"Bitch!" one of them snarled, reaching into his pocket and flicking out a switchblade. He charged her with a wide swipe, aiming for her chest. Fujioka side-stepped and kneed him in the groin. He shrieked and crumpled in half, the knife clinking harmlessly to the ground. She kicked him in the forehead and he fell limp next to his friend.

The third guy had also drawn his knife, but after his friend charged, Jack had leapt to his feet and grabbed his right arm. Jack twisted his wrist into an arm lock and then slammed his head into the wall behind them, knocking him out.

Jack spit out a glob of blood and wiped his nose, grinning at Fujioka. "Haven't changed a bit, I see."

Fujioka rolled her eyes and squatted next to Nakamura, flipping him onto his back. "I reiterate that this was a stupid, dangerous plan."

"It worked, didn't it?"

She retrieved the boy's phone and stuffed it into her back pocket, stepping over the unconscious men towards him. "How much does your face hurt?"

Jack waved the comment off. "Granite chin. Stung at first, but I can't feel much now."

She examined his face, concluding that he was telling the truth. "I still think it was a bad plan."

"Everybody's a critic."

Jack's phone rang. "That can't be good."

He answered it. "Yeah?"

"We've got company," Kamala said in a tight voice. "I just saw Aisaka Tomoda walk in with two other guys. She's heading your way."

"Shit," Jack hissed, glancing at Fujioka. "Okegawa's henchmen are here. We need to get moving."

Fujioka motioned for the phone and he handed it to her. "Dr. Anjali, I want you to keep the pistol handy and head towards that big red sign at the entrance. There is a road that runs past it. My driver will meet you there. He'll be in a dark blue SUV. His name is Toshiro. Get in the car and wait for us. If we're not there in ten minutes, head back to my apartment alone."

"Wait, where are you two going?"

"We're going to try to lose them in the crowd."

She hung up and dragged Jack from out of the alley, quickly darting into the surrounding swarm of people. "Keep your head down. They're not going to just open fire in the middle of all these people, but if they catch up to us, things will get nasty."

"How the hell did they find us?"

Fujioka grimaced. "I don't like the way Yuzuki was looking at us. My guess is she tipped them off."

"Can't trust anyone these days."

"Can't trust anyone period." She shoved him into the clothing shop and snatched a pair of socks off of a shelf, handing it to him. "Here, clean yourself as much as you can. The blood will make you even more noticeable and we don't need vendors telling them where we are."

He mopped up as much blood as he could and followed her as she walked through the shop, randomly grabbing things like a skull cap and a grey jacket. "They'll do a quick sweep at first to see if we made a run for it and then check the shops, so you need to change. We should be able to lose them, but we can't hide out for long."

Jack slipped into one of the dressing rooms and changed out of his old jacket and into the new one, pulling the cap down over his ears to hide his hair. Fujioka swapped out her own jacket for a hoodie and they paid for them before heading towards the store front to see if Aisaka and her men were nearby.

"Coast's clear for now," Fujioka said. "Move with purpose, but don't run. If I spot them, try to keep up."

"Got it." They stayed low and wove through the masses towards the front entrance. There was an SUV idling nearby with Kamala in the backseat. She opened the rear door for them as they crossed the street. A second later, her eyes went wide and she pointed behind them.

"Look out!"

Aisaka broke through the crowd with a .38 Heckler & Koch pointed at the SUV and opened fire.

Fujioka swore and pulled a gun from what looked like thin air, shoving Jack's head down as she returned fire. The crowd immediately scattered into chaos in all directions.

"Get in!" Fujioka yelled over the rabble, trying to shield him with most of her body. He climbed in and she slid in backwards, laying down cover fire after Aisaka had taken cover behind one of the stone columns holding up the entrance sign.

The SUV lurched into motion and peeled off down the street, honking madly as it swerved between cars to find a clear path.

"Everybody okay?" Fujioka asked, crawling into the passenger's front seat and peering out the window as she reloaded her gun.

"Yeah, about that," Jack said through clenched teeth, clutching his right arm. Blood drenched his fingers and soaked through the grey cotton.

"He's hit!" Kamala cried, reaching for him as he leaned back against the leather seat, groaning as fiery pain spread from the wound. She peeled off the jacket to find that the bullet had gone through his bicep, and had taken nearly an entire chunk of flesh with it. Blood spilled thick and fast down his arm and showed no signs of stopping.

"Jack, hold still," she ordered, tearing the sleeve into a thick strip. "I have to put pressure on it."

"How bad?" Fujioka asked.

"I don't know for sure," Kamala said tightly.

"I've got an emergency med-kit at the apartment. Keep your heads down. Once we're out front, I'm dropping you off and then going after our trigger-happy friend."

"Hey, Kam," Jack rasped between clenched teeth. "Remember that time I stubbed my toe on your bed frame and I said it's the worst pain I've ever felt? I've changed my mind."

"Stop joking, you imbecile," she snapped, one hand on the wound, the other sweeping over his torso in a brief check. "Did they get you anywhere else?"

"No. I guess she graduated top marksman at Storm Trooper Academy."

"Heads down!" Fujioka yelled.

She rolled down the window and took aim, never even flinching as she heard the shots echo from the pursuing vehicle. Cars honked and swerved aside as the two zipped down the street, and the distance closed between them. Fujioka exhaled, stared down the sights of her gun, and shot twice.

The front tires of the SUV exploded. It veered to one side and then slammed into the wall of a corner store on the left hand side of the road. Fujioka flipped the safety back on her gun and rolled up the window, her voice empty.

"Get us back to the apartment. Now."

After they arrived, Fujioka took one of Jack's arms and Kamala took the other and they hauled him inside. By now, he'd paled considerably and his steps dragged. Kamala lowered him to the futon and Fujioka handed her the kit.

"Will you be alright?"

"Yes. Go."

Fujioka nodded and swept out the door. Kamala read the label on the orange pill bottle tucked in one corner of the kit and popped it open.

"What's that?" Jack asked sluggishly.

"Hush." She got a glass of water and handed him two round pills. He swallowed them and drank all of the water and laid flat, breathing in shallow bursts of air as the pain seared through his arm and up into his chest.

"Man, Fujioka's gonna bill me for messing up her carpet," he said, watching Kamala untie the makeshift tourniquet and use a pair scissors to cut through the rest of the sleeve from the wrist up. She folded a towel and placed it under his arm to soak up the blood, then peered into the wound.

"The slug went straight through," she said, grabbing the gauze and disinfectant. "I have to sew you up, so lie still."

Jack frowned as the ceiling seemed to melt and drip before his eyes, becoming runny tan mush like undercooked oatmeal. The hot, crackling pain felt as if someone had turned the volume down slightly, and he had trouble keeping his eyes open to watch Kamala.

"No problem," he mumbled. "Kam?"

"Yes?"

"Sorry I got shot."

"An apology is unnecessary. Rest."

"Kam?"

"What?"

He shut his eyes. "Love you."

She paused and sent him a searching look, noticing that he'd passed out cold. Then she squared her shoulders and got to work.

~*~

Jack awoke feeling unrealistically good.

It took him a few tries to open his eyes, though. He succeeded on the fourth attempt and found himself staring up at the ceiling of Fujioka's guest room. He was warm and pleasantly numb from head to toe. Faintly, he could feel something bulky over his right shoulder and bicep. It was difficult to move, but he managed to roll his head and look around.

"It wakes," Kamala said, sipping a mug of green tea from where she sat at the desk. "How do you feel?"

"Oh, my God," Jack said. "I need to get shot more often. What the hell did you give me?"

"Painkillers. Good ones."

He fumbled and gave her a brief thumbs up. "You are my hero."

She walked over, then knelt. "Sit up. Slowly."

He exhaled and pushed with his hands until he was completely upright, then glanced at her, his voice softer. "How many stitches?"

"Eight."

He winced. "Nice. Well, guess it's a good thing chicks dig scars."

Kamala rolled her eyes and carefully smoothed the gauze and medical tape back in place. "You are such a dork, Jack."

"Eh, s'why you like me." He nodded towards the bedroom door. "Where's Fujioka?"

"Covering our tracks. She told me she'd be back before sunrise."

Jack went to check his watch, but it had been on the arm that got soaked in blood, so it was gone. "What time is it now?"

"Three am."

His eyes widened. "Jesus Christ. Why are you still up?"

She flicked him in the forehead. "I had a patient to check on, remember?"

"You stayed up to watch me sleep? Gross." She glared and he smiled. "I'm trying to cheer you up."

"Someone _shot you_ , Jack."

He shrugged, then cringed as sharp pain ate through the numbness for a second. "Calculated risk. That's why I'm happy you were here to save my ass. Aren't you glad you demanded to come with me?"

"Don't do that," she snarled. "You could have died, Jack."

He started to frown. "So, could you. You knew that when you signed on, so what are you really angry about?"

She didn't answer. Then it dawned on him. "You promised my mother that you'd take care of me." He shut his eyes for a second. "Shit." Jack looped his left arm around her, drawing her close. She resisted at first, but then just gave in, resting her forehead on his uninjured shoulder. He rubbed her back and tilted his face towards her ear. "I'm still in one piece, alright? We'll just leave the 'getting shot' part out of the recap when we get back."

Kamala's voice came out half-angry, half-amused. "I think she might notice."

"Not if I don't wear tank tops."

"Stop joking. You scared me."

"Well, if I stop joking, then I'd have to face my own mortality, and I sure as hell ain't about to do that."

"Useless _pagal_." She wrapped her arms around him. Her hands were clammy. Jack held her a little tighter.

"Yeah, pretty much." He kissed the top of her head gently. "Come on. You need to get some rest before Fujioka gets back."

"Jack—"

"No back-talk," he said sternly, pulling away enough to give her a glare. "Doctor Jackson's orders."

She pursed her lips as if she was going to disagree, but then she crawled in next to him on the futon. He nearly had a heart-attack as she curled up beneath his left arm much like a cat would, resting her cheek on his bare chest. He swallowed thickly and told himself to just let the blanketing warmth from the painkillers fold over him so he could relax. She settled into deep breaths beside him, and all he could think about were her words as he drifted off again.

You could have died.

~*~

He could tell he was in a cave by the lack of sunlight and the sandstone-colored craggy slopes of the walls and ceiling, but he didn't know how he got there. He could hear water dripping from the stalactites. He discovered he had a flashlight, so he swung the beam of light around until he gauged that the cave wasn't a full chamber; only about twenty feet across in an almost oval shape. Up ahead, he could see a tunnel bending around to the left. Just to be sure, he glanced behind him and saw a closed off corridor. Forward it was.

His footsteps echoed as he walked for what felt like a long while, following the winding path deeper into the cave. He stopped dead when he heard something else for the first time. Tittering, like a child's giggle.

" _Hello?" Jack said. "Somebody there?"_

Pattering footsteps echoed somewhere up ahead. Jack kept walking after them. "You know, this isn't exactly the place to be fooling around."

He turned a corner and caught a glimpse of bouncing curls and the edge of a lavender dress.

" _Hey, wait up!"_

He jogged through the tunnel, his flashlight spilling over a girl running ahead of him, no more than six years old perhaps. She ran through the end of tunnel and he came to a stop at the mouth of an even bigger cave, one that was a couple of miles in length. It was lit by several torches on long poles placed in a circle. A waterfall frothed and gurgled at the end opposite him, filling a river that surrounded a small island. There were still stalactites and stalagmites around the edges of the cave, but the center had smooth stone. He saw a little bed perched on top with sheets and a pillow.

She scurried up the hill to her bed and hid under the covers, still giggling as if they were playing hide-and-seek. Jack hopped across the small riverbed and strode up to the bed, all on its own in the cave, pocketing the flashlight as he went. He couldn't resist a small smile as he spotted the lump under the comforter. She'd been waiting for him, he could tell. He wasn't sure why he knew that, but he did.

" _Alright, little monster, time to come out." He tugged the covers off._

The girl beamed up at him, her two front teeth missing, and burst into full laughter, as if he'd won their game. She wore a full-length nightgown that reached her ankles and had white frills around the neck and sleeves. Her skin was brown and her curls were dark, matching her large eyes with long lashes.

She leapt to her feet on the mattress and threw her arms around his neck. "You found me!"

Jack chuckled and hugged her. "Yeah, apparently. What are you doing in here?"

She let go and threw her arms up, gesturing to the cave. "This is home."

He arched an eyebrow. "You mean you live here?"

She nodded eagerly.

" _How'd you get here?"_

She shrugged. Jack started to frown. "Don't you miss your family?"

The girl tilted her head.

" _You know, your mom and dad? Brothers and sisters? Aunts and uncles? Grandmas and grandpas?"_

" _I don't have any."_

" _Of course, you do. Everyone does. They just have to find them." He held out his hand. "Why don't we go find them together?"_

The happy light she exuded dimmed. Her brow crinkled up. "I don't wanna go. I'm scared."

He sat next to her. "Trying something new can be scary. But it can also be really fun. Besides, you don't have to worry. I'll protect you."

She curled her arms around her knees and set her chin on them, watching him. "It's dark out there."

Jack reached into his pocket. "I have a flashlight."

" _And cold."_

" _I'll give you my jacket."_

" _I don't wanna walk."_

" _I'll let you ride piggy-back."_

She perked up. "Really?"

" _Yeah. Really."_

The bright smile returned. "Okay!"

Jack stood and she leapt on to his back. He wrapped his arms around her knees and started down the hill towards the tunnel they'd come in through.

" _What's your name?" he asked._

" _What's yours?"_

" _I asked you first."_

" _I asked you first."_

" _What?"_

" _What?"_

Jack sighed. "Oh. I forgot kids do that."

" _Oh, I forgot kids do that." She echoed cheerfully._

He flicked on the flashlight and entered the tunnel, whistling the Andy Griffith theme song to fill the empty space and make it seem less haunting. He made a few wrong turns into dead end corridors, but the whistling helped keep him from panicking about the fact that he had no clue where they were or how to get out.

" _You're never going to get out of here," the girl whispered._

" _Oh, nonsense," Jack said. "Just trial and error. We'll get there."_

She leaned closer to his ear, digging her fingers into his shoulder blades. Her childish voice went deathly cold. "No, not we. You will never get out of here."

Jack stopped in his tracks. Her fingers dug in harder. Sharp pain lanced through his upper body. His back bent under her weight. With a start, he realized she was getting bigger.

The girl broke from his grip and hit the tunnel floor on all fours, trembling, quaking in place. Jack's mouth went dry as her limbs stretched and bent inward like a dog's hindquarters. She stared at him, her soft doe's eyes turning a furious gold, peering out from her dark hair. Her spine crackled and popped as wickedly sharp spines shot forth from it. A long scaly tail unfurled from beneath the remaining shreds of her nightgown. A fanged muzzle pushed out from her face, its snout smoking with twin trails of vapor.

Seconds later, a gun-metal-grey dragon the size of a Tyrannosaurus Rex glared down at Jack and then roared so hard that it shook the stalactites from the ceiling.

Jack fled.

The flashlight bounced crazily off the walls as he raced down the tunnel, turning sharply as he heard the scrape of the dragon's claws as it gave chase. Orange light glowed behind him and he ducked as it spat a gout of fire, missing him by mere inches. It singed the hairs on his head and cooked the leather on his jacket until it cracked. He broke into a full sprint, gaining several feet, but then ran into a fork in the tunnel. Right or left. Death or escape.

Jack ran into the left tunnel and around the bend only to be met with another empty corridor. He swore and threw himself against the wall, one hand over his mouth to mask the sound of his panting. He held perfectly still and strained to hear where the dragon had gone.

Thud. Thud. Thud.

Thud-schtick! Thud-schtick! Thud-schtick!

A low rolling growl filled the tunnels. Then, mercifully, it faded a moment later.

Jack swallowed hard and told himself he had to check if it was clear or he'd be a sitting duck. He edged himself over to the tunnel and glanced into it.

Darkness.

Then he heard the girl's voice whisper.

" _Found you."_

The fire ate him whole.

Jack came out of the nightmare like a man swimming up to the surface of the ocean, gasping hard and sitting bolt upright on the futon. His bicep screamed with pain at the abrupt motion and he cried out, clutching the wound as it burned and sent fire-ant stings coursing down his right arm.

"Jack, it's alright," Kamala said, resting a hand on his chest. "You were dreaming. Take it easy."

He ran a shaky hand through his mussed hair, a hollow laugh in his throat. "Well, that was an unpleasant side effect of the painkillers."

Kamala brushed his hair back and felt his forehead. "You're a little feverish. Sit tight."

She went into the kitchen and returned with a tall glass of ice water and a granola bar. Jack gulped the water down greedily and then tore into the bar, eating it in two bites.

"You lost a lot of blood, so you won't be at one hundred percent for a while," Kamala said, handing him a napkin. "You'll need a sling for your arm, at least for the time being."

Jack shook his head and wiped his mouth. "It's fine."

"What did you see?"

"Huh?"

"In the dream," she said softly. "What did you see?"

He avoided her gaze. "Where's Fujioka?"

Kamala pressed her lips together in a thin line and then sighed. "She texted me a few minutes ago. She's on her way in and she cracked the code on Nakamura's phone. Hopefully, we'll find Okegawa's number as well as an address."

"Great. In the meantime, I've got to see a man about a horse."

Kamala lifted an eyebrow.

He winced. "Right. Idioms. I need to use the bathroom."

He stood on his own, wobbled a bit, and then walked a crooked line to the restroom. Once he was done, he briefly took stock of himself in the mirror. His skin was wan and sickly, the color of toilet paper, except for the small cut that had turned a mottled red over his cheekbone. His eyes looked hooded from his general state of exhaustion, and he could see purplish bruising sticking out from beneath the bandage on his arm. All in all, he appeared and felt like a thousand miles of bad road.

And yet she stuck by him anyway.

Jack splashed cold water on his face a few times and hovered over the sink, glaring at himself. "Coward. Just tell her. For God's sake, it's not like it's the end of the world. Even if she says no, she won't just abandon you. Man up, you dumb shit."

He wiped his face with a towel, mopped up the sweat that had beaded on his chest and abs while he slept, and took a deep breath. He turned and opened the door to the bedroom.

"Kam, we need to talk."

"Oh, good," Fujioka said. "You're still alive."

Jack sighed inwardly and closed the bathroom door. "Don't throw a parade or anything."

"I'll resist the urge." She brandished Nakamura's phone. "I was just telling Dr. Anjali that I've got an address. We've lost several hours while you were hurt, but I made sure Aisaka and her goons didn't follow us. For the moment, you're safe."

"Great. When can we get moving?"

The women exchanged a glance. Jack frowned. "What gives?"

"Jack," Kamala said with a long-suffering tone. "You have a hole in your arm."

"So?"

"So, you can't be running around Tokyo until you've healed."

"What? You want to just leave me here?"

Kamala placed a hand on her hip. "Yes. Why? Do you have a problem with that?"

"What if you need my help?"

"I'm pretty sure that's what cell phones were invented for, Jack."

He clenched his teeth for a second. "Not what I meant."

"I know what you meant. Fujioka-san and I can handle this on our own. You need to rest until you're strong enough to be fully mobile. Otherwise, you'll be a danger to yourself as well as us."

"We're supposed to watch each other's backs. You really expect me to just sit on my ass while you're out there with those dick-holes chasing after you?"

"They're chasing you, not me." She strode over to him and poked him in the chest, which made him wince and sway dangerously for a second. "Do we have to have another conversation about you not ordering me around? Because I thought I made myself clear the last time."

Jack took a deep breath and counted to five. "I'm not trying to pick a fight, Kam. I'm just... concerned. As your friend."

"Don't be. I can take care of myself, and Fujioka-san is more than enough to keep me safe. Stay here. Rest." She paused and then smiled a little. "Then you can go back to being my dragon, alright?"

"Fine. Just...just be careful, okay?"

"Of course. Eat something and keep drinking water. Check on Faye and see if the FBI made any headway with our case. We should be back within the hour." She gave him a peck on the cheek and then pointed a finger at him, her expression severe.

"And wear the damn sling for your arm."

"Yeah, yeah, keep your shirt on," he grumbled, shuffling over to the desk where the extensive First Aid kit lay open. He sat down with a groan and reached for it, then sent a petulant stare in her direction. "You don't have to watch me put it on! I'm gonna do it."

"Men are such babies," Fujioka said. "I don't know how we deal with them."

They left the apartment in the wake of Jack grumbling under his breath about doctors and difficult women.

# CHAPTER TEN

PSYCHOTHERAPY

"I don't like this."

"No one likes it. But it's about fifty percent of what I do for a living, so you learn to live with it."

"Not this," Kamala said, gesturing towards the binoculars in Fujioka's hands. "I don't like that we found him this way. It isn't sitting right with me."

"You have good instincts, then," Fujioka replied without looking away from the binoculars. She did, however, bring a bottle of water up to her a mouth to sip before continuing. "If Okegawa is as big a deal as they've made him out to be, it's unlikely that this is his real address. It's probably that of an associate or a girlfriend or one of his _shatei_. You don't get to be _shateigashira_ by making rookie mistakes."

"So, why did we still come here?"

"Because humans are creatures of habit. He was here when he sent out the orders to pick up the dragon. He spoke directly to Nakamura when he could have just passed the order through his men. He doesn't want a lot of them to know about his operation so no one can tattle on him. He might be using this place to lie low as well, since by now, the FBI might have made some progress in getting the local authorities to be on the lookout for him."

"Do you intend to surrender the information we've found to them?"

"After I've done what I was hired to do, yes. I have no problem with the police. They've done a hell of a job ridding the streets of both major yakuza clans. It's admirable."

"What about Nakamura? I'm sure he warned them that we recovered his phone."

"That's possible, but he's young. He might be afraid that reporting such a failure to Okegawa would result in disciplinary action. Failing to bring Jack in would be taken quite seriously on its own, but possibly leading us to Okegawa would mean serious peril. He might have kept his mouth shut. Self-preservation is one hell of a motivator."

"I see." Kamala wiped her mouth with a napkin and set her small empty container of food aside before settling in next to Fujioka with her own pair of binoculars. The morning air was crisp, but not biting. Summertime in Tokyo often meant the temperature was in the high seventies, so the morning wasn't cold even at their current elevation.

The apartment complex that had been registered to Okegawa's cell phone number was nestled in a nearby district of Tokyo: Shibuya. He had a suite on the top floor, so Fujioka paid off a few people to give them roof access to a neighboring apartment, beyond his line of sight should he go near the windows. She kept an eye on the unit itself while Kamala watched the people down below to see if Okegawa walked in. It had been about half an hour since they arrived and the streets were sparse with people as it was not long after sunrise, but traffic was beginning to pick up steadily.

"While we've got some time to ourselves," Fujioka said several minutes later. "Why did you stop practicing medicine and join Jack's project?"

Kamala glanced at her, surprised.

Fujioka smiled. "I research all potential clients, Dr. Anjali. I'm thorough. It reduces the chance of being double-crossed or getting shot because I didn't have all the information."

"Oh." Kamala focused on the street in front of the apartment again. "It was too easy."

Fujioka made a scoffing sound. "Being a doctor was too _easy?_ "

"No. The work was challenging and I liked it, but..." She licked her lips. "My family is full of doctors. From my great-grandfather on down. It's expected of us to just fall in line. I knew what my life would be like if I stayed on that path. I admire my parents and I love them dearly, but I don't want their life. There were no surprises for either of them. Not even me. I was planned and executed to the letter. Everything I had done and would do was already itemized on a list somewhere. So, I decided to do something else that was equally meaningful."

"But why a research project? Your reputation is stunning. You could have gone into several different fields."

"I've always had a soft spot for the environment. It's part of why I'm a vegetarian. I was searching for a way to give back in a way that meant something. That's when I stumbled across what Jack was working on. Dragons are one of the only species on the planet that suffered extinction solely from human interference. They were systematically destroyed with extreme prejudice, and most of it was based on flimsy reasons. They claimed that dragons snatched children from farms and villages in the dead of night. The ones large enough to do that wouldn't be anywhere near civilization because of the environments they thrive in. It's an old wives' tale, like Baba Yaga. It isn't like in certain parts of India where they've had tigers abducting people, or those two lions that were hunting people in Kenya in the late 1800's. Dragons were nothing but sport to generations before us. Some of them were a danger and a nuisance, but not all of them. There was no reason to wipe them all out and be unapologetic about it. I chose Jack's project to right that wrong. To show the world that just because something is unusual or possibly dangerous, doesn't mean it has no place."

"Interesting. It sort of makes sense why you and Jack get along so well."

Kamala scowled. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"I'd rather not say."

"You brought it up, Fujioka-san. Is there something you want to tell me?"

Her mouth twitched, as if she were trying not to frown. "I shouldn't meddle."

"Too late. Out with it or I'll pester you indefinitely. I'm very good at it."

"Look, it's nothing dire. It just bothers me that he hasn't been completely honest with you about why he began this project."

"Forgive me, but I find that hard to believe. Jack tells me everything."

Fujioka made a serious effort not to wince at her words. "No man tells a woman he cares for everything. It's not in their nature, and certainly not in Jack's."

"He's different."

"True. He is different from most men, but he still holds back because he's afraid."

"Afraid of what?"

Fujioka sighed. "He's told you about his father, right?"

"Somewhat. I know that he went through an extremely rough period in his middle and high school years. He was bullied by some kids and then his father overreacted in trying to teach him how to fight. I don't know if any charges were ever filed, but based on Jack's reaction, there was some physical and emotional abuse involved. I also think his mother never knew what happened. She strikes me as the type who would have instantly divorced her husband for laying hands on their child that way."

"Well, that's not the whole story. Jack stopped getting bullied around junior year of high school and began struggling with the psychological effects. He started picking fights instead of just defending himself."

Kamala's breath caught in her throat. "Oh no. Are you saying he became the bully?"

"Not exactly. He was so used to the adrenaline that his temper got out of control. He had all that power and technique, but nothing to direct it at, and so it got worse. He tried enrolling in martial arts classes, but it didn't work. He was just angry and aggressive all the time, largely because he couldn't stand up to his father. Then, he just suddenly stopped talking to anyone and graduated from high school and hopped on a plane to MIT."

Kamala shook her head. "No wonder he didn't tell me." She paused, frowning. "How exactly did you find out? He said you only exchanged emails. Why would he open up to you if you were only with him for a week?"

"It was an eventful week."

Kamala drummed her fingers on the ledge of the rooftop, chewing her lower lip. After a while, she sighed. "Alright, it's none of my business, but it's killing me. How did you find out all of this about him? He's so guarded sometimes."

Fujioka raised an eyebrow. "You should know better, Dr. Anjali. Men are most vulnerable when they're intimate with someone. Even if it's brief, there's still a connection there."

"Well, as you said, we've got some time to ourselves. Tell me more about that week."

Fujioka shot a quick look at her. "Are you certain? I'm not very good at censoring myself."

Kamala shifted to sit more comfortably. Her mind flashed on the kiss she and Jack shared on the bridge. It was just a distraction, but it wasn't altogether a bad memory. "I'll cope with it somehow."

~*~

The hotel door had scarcely closed when Fujioka shoved Jack up against it and kissed him, lifting on her tiptoes to reach his mouth. He made a little alarmed noise that she thought was adorable, but melted right into the kiss without hesitation. She wasted no time in ripping off his trench coat and suit jacket, going to work on the buttons of his dress shirt. She jerked the tail of the shirt out of his pants and started to undo the belt, smirking up at him.

" _Waiting for an invitation, handsome?" she asked between kisses._

" _Possibly," Jack said breathlessly, shuddering as his pants hit the floor. "Mostly wondering if I'm actually awake or dreaming."_

She grinned. "I could pinch you, if you like."

He relaxed into a wolfish smile. "Only if you'll let me return the favor."

He brought her back in for another kiss, his hands sliding to the small of her back where the zipper for her dress lay. The silk folded in half down her upper body and then slipped free, exposing miles and miles of lovely skin... and no underwear. Jack shuddered again and Fujioka laughed softly, pulling him towards the bed.

Jack landed on the mattress first and Fujioka all but pounced on top of him, settling in his lap as the kisses got deeper, more hurried, more frantic. A moment later, her brow wrinkled in a frown.

" _Jack," she said sternly. "I can feel you thinking about this. Stop it."_

He sent her a startled look. "How the hell...?"

" _You're tense all over. And not the good kind of tense. You're acting like I'm about to make you take a final exam that you haven't studied for."_

He laughed slightly. "Funny you should mention that."

Fujioka moved his hand from where it rested against her waist, sliding it upward. "Stop thinking."

Their mouths met again. Fujioka growled in frustration and shoved him flat beneath her, her dark eyes flashing in the dim lamplight.

" _How many?"_

" _What?"_

" _How many women have you been with aside from me?"_

Jack stared up at her in disbelief. "Uh. Three?"

" _Chikushō," she muttered. "No wonder. Let me guess. You were usually the non-dominant partner in those relationships, ne?"_

He pushed up on his elbows. "Is it that obvious?"

" _Yes. You touch me like you're worried I'll break. I won't."_

Jack winced. "I'm... stronger than I look."

" _So am I."_

" _I don't want to hurt you."_

" _Try me."_

She closed the distance between them in another kiss, her hands busying themselves between their lower bodies. Jack groaned into her mouth, his hands flexing of their own volition on her hips.

Fujioka purred. "Good boy. Keep going."

He slid them higher towards the clasp of the bra, only to be met with rather stubborn opposition. Fujioka moved to his jaw, the spot where his ear met his chin, her voice mocking. "Going to let Victoria's Secret get the better of you? I'm starting to lose interest in you, Jack."

He grunted and tore it in one savage jerk.

" _Mm, better."_

" _You know," he growled, attacking her neck. "This would go a lot better without the play-by-play critique."_

" _Oh? What exactly are you going to do about it if I don't stop?"_

" _Figure out if there's some duct tape in your suitcase."_

Fujioka gave a little shudder, and the glint in her eyes that he'd seen a moment ago returned in startling force. "Much better."

He eyed her. "Do you always respond this way to threats?"

" _Only when I don't have any pants on. Now, are you going to give me a reason to stay pantsless or am I going to have to find entertainment elsewhere?"_

Jack's jaw twitched. "You sure? You want it all? Everything?"

She raked her nails down his shoulders, her voice a bare whisper, but the tone electrified his skin and nerves from so close. "I didn't drag you in here to make love to me. So, either get serious or get out."

" _Yes ma'am."_

Jack picked her up and slammed her into the wall adjacent to the bed.

Fujioka let out a choked gasp, but didn't have much time to recover her breath as he kissed her roughly, his hands digging into the base of her thighs hard enough to bruise. She all but clawed his back as the remaining clothing between them disappeared in an explosion of ripped seams and shredded cloth. Jack balanced on his knees and hoisted her up higher, leveling out the difference in their heights, and then went for the kill.

The next eight minutes were a loud, hectic, mind-blowingly ecstatic blur.

The only thing she remembered with perfect clarity was the fact that she hadn't once reached the finish line with such enthusiasm in the last five years.

When it was over, she did the only thing she could.

She laughed.

Jack's sweaty face was buried in her neck, as he'd collapsed into the slightly dented wall with both hands keeping them propped up, so he felt the vibrations climbing up her chest first before the actual sound hit him. Fujioka's arms were haphazardly wound about him, one hand resting in his slick hair, the other dangling over his shoulder, her rubbery legs loosely looped around his hips. It started out as hoarse giggles and then slowly progressed into hiccupping belts of laughter.

" _Sugoi," she panted out, leaning her head back into the wall. "I knew it. I knew you were something special, koibito."_

" _You're twisted, lady," Jack said, but he was smiling nonetheless._

" _And you're much more interesting than I thought," she said, her fingertips tracing the fingernail marks she'd made down his shoulder blades. "Let me make you some coffee. We have much more to... discuss."_

A couple of minutes later, they both sat cross-legged on the bed facing each other, unapologetically and happily naked, drinking coffee.

" _Oh, my God," Jack said, pulling a face as he stared into the Styrofoam cup after the first sip. "It's like a monkey jerked off into a tar pit."_

Fujioka sprayed some over the bedspread. It took her a moment to get her laughter under control. "I told you it was bad."

" _Bad is an understatement. I've tasted vomit that was better than this. And you have a nice suite, so what gives?"_

Fujioka shrugged. "I suppose they had to cut corners somewhere." She set hers aside on the nightstand. "Now then. What on earth is wrong with you?"

Jack pursed his lips. "Says the woman whose jimmies are rustled when a man she barely knows threatens to duct tape her."

" _Point taken, but..." She ran a hand through her thoroughly mussed hair. "A man who can screw like that definitely has something rotten in Denmark in his past. Why haven't any of your lovers let you off the leash before?"_

" _Jesus. This is some kind of pillow talk."_

" _I'm serious, Jack."_

He squirmed, staring into the cup. "Does it really matter why?"

" _It does if we're going to continue with our arrangement. I offered because I find you compelling. You have untapped potential. However, I didn't imagine I'd be reopening old wounds by inviting you into my bed. You don't have to tell me everything. I won't tell you everything either, but I like to be upfront about potential problems."_

Jack drained the putrid coffee in one long pull. He coughed and then tossed it into the wastebasket across the room. "First girlfriend was in high school. Junior year. Gina. Tall, gorgeous, and smart as a whip. Lost my virginity to her. I don't know if it's the same where you grew up, but for guys, we tend to get very single-minded about the first girl. I did anything and everything she asked me to without question. It took me until graduation to figure out she was using me to get back at her parents."

" _How so?"_

" _Gina was black. Her parents didn't approve of interracial dating. She dumped me not long after she was admitted to Columbia."_

" _And after that?"_

" _Irene. Sophomore year at MIT. We met in one of my science classes, and it turns out she was a Georgia peach, as the cliché goes. We had a lot in common and so the relationship was easy. We got complacent. We got used to each other. We got bored. Finally, I caught her messing around with my best friend at the time and we ended things there."_

Fujioka leaned her head on her hand. "And then?"

" _Sam. Senior year. We only went out for a couple weeks. She thought I was too clingy, too much of a Southern gentleman. She was probably right. Of the three, we ended things the most amicably."_

" _And now there's me," Fujioka finished for him. "Number four."_

" _Yeah. You. I'm apparently halfway to the average number of lovers a human being has in their lifetime."_

" _Eight?"_

" _Bingo."_

" _Is that in America or in general?"_

Jack grinned. "Well, we don't use the metric system, so maybe you have a point there."

She sent him a challenging smirk. "Aren't you going to ask my number?"

" _Nope," he said cheerfully, standing and crossing the room to the wet bar. "Doesn't have an effect on our, uh, relationship anyhow. A woman's body is her own. My only concern is keeping it happy."_

She stretched out on her side. "Oh, it's very happy with you right now."

He glanced back over his shoulder. "Enjoying the view?"

" _Very much so, koibito."_

He came back with two whiskey glasses, each filled with a finger-width of fine scotch. "What does that mean?"

She accepted it and clinked hers with his. "Impress me again and I'll tell you tomorrow night."

The following night, Fujioka found herself with a pillow over her face to stifle some rather undignified, loud noises. She had a good excuse, with Jack's head below her waist level.

Once he was done, Jack licked his lips clean and spared her an infinitely smug smile.

" _Impressed yet?"_

" _Congratulations," Fujioka gasped out, shaking all over as she removed the pillow. "You are the valedictorian of cunnilingus."_

Jack chuckled. "I think that's the nicest thing anyone's ever said to me."

She gripped his shoulders and tugged him down next to her, pressing light, grateful kisses along his jawline. "You might have bad luck with women, but you definitely pay attention to them. I didn't have to instruct you on a single thing. That's extremely rare."

He shrugged. "Guess that's one benefit of not being... open with my past partners. I learned to focus on them instead."

" _Their loss," she murmured, ruffling his hair and kissing his lips this time. "You are extraordinary at this. I'm tempted to keep you as my pet for all eternity."_

" _I can't tell if that's flattering or awful."_

" _Both. Now be a lamb and fetch me a drink."_

" _Yes ma'am." He slipped out of bed and made his way to the wet bar again. "Mind if I ask you a question?"_

" _Yes."_

He glanced at her. "Seriously? You don't even know what it is."

Fujioka flopped onto her side and narrowed her eyes at him. "In my experience, questions and sex don't go together. It implies an intimacy that is not present with our current situation."

He lifted an eyebrow. "Having done what I just did to you, we don't have any level of intimacy in your book?"

She remained silent for a long moment and heaved a sigh. "What's your question?"

" _Relax," he said as he returned with her scotch. "I just wanted to ask where you grew up, since you said you'd never been to Cambridge before."_

She took a couple sips. "I was born in San Jose, California. Grew up in the States until after high school when I joined the military and returned to Japan. After my service, I set up shop in Shinjuku. As my reputation grew, I began traveling internationally. Satisfied?"

" _You don't have to be mean about it," he said. "I'm a scientist. We're a curious bunch."_

She trailed her nails down his bicep, watching him drink his scotch. "Curiosity killed the cat."

He smiled over the rim of the glass. "Satisfaction brought it back."

She snuck her hand into his lap, her own smile quite lascivious. "Let's get to work on that, shall we?"

The third night, oddly enough, began with an argument.

" _No."_

" _Yes."_

" _Hell, no."_

" _Yes, koibito."_

" _You are absolutely out of your mind if you think I'm letting you handcuff me."_

Fujioka pouted. "I can get the duct tape instead if you like."

Jack crossed his arms. "Not funny. I'm not doing it."

" _Why? Have I injured that fragile male ego of yours?"_

He snorted. "Not hardly. This has nothing to do with ego. It has to do with the fact that I've only known you for three days and I'm still calling you by your last name. Rough sex is one thing. This is something completely different."

She scowled. "You were in relationships with two different women for months. Are you telling me this subject never came up?"

Jack flushed pink. "That's not relevant. It was with someone I trust."

" _And you don't trust me? I'm hurt."_

" _That's the pot calling the kettle black. You don't trust me either."_

She sighed and set the cuffs down on the nightstand. "And what could I possibly do to get you to trust me? Put on a white wedding dress and recite the Pledge of Allegiance?"

" _Don't be condescending, alright? You said you didn't want to dig up old wounds. This just happens to be a big one of mine. If you don't like it, then we're done for the night."_

He turned and headed for the door. She called out to him when his hand was on the doorknob. "Do you intend to go through your whole life as a coward, then?"

Jack gritted his teeth. "I'm not a coward."

" _This frightens you for some reason. I read people for a living. You don't like being restrained. Why?"_

" _I thought you said questions and sex don't go together."_

" _No, they don't," she said, walking over until she was facing him. "I'm breaking my own protocol because this isn't just a sexual preference. Look at your posture. You look like you're about to snap me in half." She rested her hand over his on the doorknob, her voice softer now. "What's wrong?"_

He pulled his hand away. "Given our 'current situation,' it's none of your business."

He left without another word.

The following night, Jack walked out of the bathroom of his apartment in just a towel, only to find Fujioka sitting on his bed.

" _Honey, I'm home," she purred._

Jack couldn't talk for a few seconds. "What the hell, Fujioka? How did you get in here? And how long have you been here to begin with?"

" _Oh, don't be so dramatic," she said, rolling her eyes. "I didn't break in. You forgot to lock the bedroom window, baka. I just slipped in after you hopped in the shower."_

" _That is not at all creepy and a complete violation of trust."_

" _You didn't answer my text message."_

" _Well, you're a smart woman. What did that tell you?"_

She crossed her arms. "Really, Jack, this defensiveness is childish. I came here to apologize."

" _Great. Apology accepted. Now, can I go to bed?"_

She stood and stalked over to him, not breaking his gaze along the way. "I'm not scared of you."

" _Is this the part where I say, you should be?"_

She ignored the comment. "You can throw all the insults and sarcasm at me that you like, but I'm not going to back off like the soft little women you've had in your bed before. I don't just offer an apology to anyone, Jack. I also don't go out on a limb for just anyone. And so you will treat me as an adult and tell me what's bothering you. If you still decide to be stubborn, then I'll simply have to beat the truth out of you."

He threw down the small towel from around his neck. "Y'know what? I'm not scared of you either. Kick my ass if it makes you feel better, but that doesn't mean I owe you any answers. Do you expect every guy you screw for a week to spill his guts or is it just me?"

She stepped closer still, until she was only inches away, her eyes like mahogany fire.

" _It is just you."_

They both stood there, breathing hard, invading each other's space for several heavy moments. Then they moved at once, simultaneously. Jack grabbed her shoulders enough to lift her to be level with him. Fujioka jerked the towel off his waist.

" _It only happened once."_

Fujioka shifted until her chin lay on his chest, observing the guarded look on Jack's face as he stared up at the ceiling fan above the bed.

" _What?"_

" _I had a panic attack," he said softly. "After Irene cuffed me to the bed."_

She shut her eyes for a second. "Shit. What brought it on?"

" _I got bullied all through school. The worst one was the first time I tried to fight back in ninth grade. The guys held me down on the floor and whaled on me for a while. I had a black eye for weeks, and that was when my Dad found out about it."_

" _And what did he do?"_

" _Taught me how to fight. He was very sink-or-swim about it."_

She shifted a bit closer, draping her leg across his thigh and propping her head up on her hand. "How sink-or-swim?"

He held up his left arm, showing her the scar. "This was him."

She ran her fingertips across it. "Bastard. Did you say anything to anyone about it?"

" _No. He wasn't a bad father. He just didn't understand that I didn't want to hurt people back. I did what he told me to do because I didn't want to disappoint him, until I couldn't anymore."_

She traced absent patterns over his chest. "Little Jack, who just wanted to read books and dream of dragons, became a fighter. All that anger, all that aggression, sitting underneath the surface like magma. No wonder you were so defensive. You have no outlet. It's like an even more depressing version of Fight Club."

Jack snorted. "Well, my name is Jack."

" _But it wasn't always. Why don't you like your real name?"_

He sighed, closing his eyes. "God, you're nosy."

She leaned down and bit his nipple.

He laughed, squirming. "Okay, okay, I'll talk! Mom guilted my Dad into letting her name me. She loves Gone with the Wind, so I got saddled with Rhett. I didn't like who I was, so after I moved to Cambridge I tried to start over. New name is a good way to go."

Fujioka was silent momentarily. "What's your middle name?"

He tugged her astride his waist. "Impress me again and I'll tell you tomorrow night."

The fifth night had another atypical experience for Fujioka, as the first words out of Jack's mouth after their rigorous activities were: "Wanna take a bath?"

She lay on the bed for a bit, catching her breath, and then walked into her ludicrously spacious bathroom with its two-person tub to see Jack dumping nearly the entire bottle of complimentary bubble bath solution into the hot gurgling water.

" _You are perhaps the strangest man I've ever met."_

" _Why, thank you," he said, stepping one leg into the tub. "Ah, ooh, shit, that's hot!" He danced around a little and then settled in, relaxing his shoulders and arms. "There we go. That's the stuff."_

Fujioka shook her head.

Jack pursed his lips. "When's the last time you had a bath? It's pretty incredible."

" _I work for a living. I don't have time for baths."_

" _Your loss."_

She rolled her eyes, but swept her long hair up into a messy bun and joined him, swiping a washcloth on the way. He massaged her shoulders and back as she washed herself leisurely. Jack's low, slightly off-key humming underscored the occasional splash. As her overworked muscles melted like butter under his hands, Fujioka quickly realized he had a point about the value of baths.

" _Why dragons?"_

" _Hmm?" Jack said, glancing up from where he'd been caressing her ribs and sides._

" _Why did you choose to focus on dragons for your project? There are dozens of extinct and endangered species. What made them so special to you?"_

" _What? Were you too busy checking me out during my lecture to listen when I answered that question then?"_

" _That was your PR-friendly answer," Fujioka said, scooping up a handful of dense bubbles between her long fingers. "It's not just because of the lack of knowledge about the creatures since they were mostly destroyed instead of studied. Even if you succeed and bring a non-dangerous species to life, dragons are among the only animals on earth that are a legitimate threat to mankind. The bigger species were at the top of their food chain, and ours as well. You'd be pitting two alpha predators against each other again. Didn't you see Jurassic Park?"_

" _You would not believe how many people have asked me that question."_

" _I'm serious. What drives a man to look into the eyes of something as ancient and powerful as a dragon and decide to resurrect it?"_

" _Just because something's dangerous doesn't mean it has no place in the world."_

She fell silent. Then she turned and kissed him gently without saying a word.

A week ago, Fujioka never would have imagined she would end up breaking both her bedroom rules. But that was the least of her worries.

~*~

"He's there."

Kamala blinked rapidly. "What?"

Fujioka pointed. "In the apartment. Okegawa's there."

Stunned and still disoriented from being enraptured by Fujioka's story, Kamala swung her gaze towards the suite and focused the binoculars. There, sitting on the black leather couch, was Okegawa. He wore suit pants and a white button up shirt, and had a black tie looped around his shoulders. He lit a cigarette and blew out a mouthful of smoke before picking up the cell phone on the small glass table next to the couch.

"...well, I'll be damned."

# CHAPTER ELEVEN

AIN'T NO REST FOR THE WICKED

"So, what does it feel like to be one-ninth of 50 Cent?"

"What?" Jack asked through a mouthful of rice and fish, squinting at the phone on the computer desk before him.

"You got shot once. 50 Cent got shot nine times. Clearly this means you're ready for a career as a professional mediocre rapper."

"My God, am I glad I called you for your wise counsel," he said, rolling his eyes. "What would I do without you, Faye?"

"I shudder to think about it. Admit it, Stilts. You miss me."

"Yeah, it's so hard when you're not here so I can strangle you."

She laughed, a coy sound. "Skipping right to the phone sex, are we? Is that a result of the painkillers or are you just moody that your work wife left you for another woman?"

He set the now-empty bowl down a little harder than necessary. "Faye."

"Alright, alright, don't get grumpy. What's wrong with the tracker?"

Jack flipped the device over. "We're having issues with the screen flickering out. It's not the battery, I already checked."

"Mm. Not an easy fix, but I should be able to walk you through it. Face-Time me and we can get it working again."

True to her word, thirty minutes later, the tracker was back to normal. Jack winced as he flexed his hand open and closed a couple times. "Sorry that took so long. Still not getting enough use out of his hand. Plus, the painkillers make me a little dopier than usual. Dexterity went right out the window."

"Hey, at least you still have use of the arm, big fella. If the girls hadn't been there, who knows what would've happened?"

Jack grimaced. "Trying not to think about it, honestly."

"Yeah."

He peered into the phone at the guarded look on her face. "Uh-oh. Is that a human emotion I see coming out of you? Are you worried about me?"

She glared. "No."

Jack smirked. "Love you too."

"I swear to God, I'll mail you a bomb."

"It's too late. You've gone soft. I knew we shouldn't have left you there alone. We're going to come back to the apartment and it'll be decorated with My Little Pony and Care Bears everywhere."

"You're an infernal ass."

"Hee-haw. Now, didn't you have something else for me?"

"Other than complete and utter contempt? Yes. I'm emailing you the plans I have for the tracker I'm building from scratch. Hopefully, you won't be in Tokyo for more than a couple more days, but I tend to plan for a worst case scenario where you guys would need to extend your visit. If that happens, I'll build it and send it to you as soon as I can."

"Thanks, Faye."

"Welcome. Heard back from the girls yet?"

"No. They said they'd be back within the hour. They should be here any minute. Hopefully, we'll get some good news for once."

"So, what's up with you and Kam? Any progress?"

Jack sighed. "No."

"Oh, come on. You couldn't even milk some pity sex out of that gunshot wound? A little glad-to-still-be-alive nookie?"

He glared. "Now who's the infernal ass?"

She winked. "Love you too."

"Ugh. I think I've reached my Faye-quota for the day. I'll call you later."

"I'll wait with bated breath, handsome." She paused. "Be careful, okay?"

He let the scowl on his face soften. "Yeah. You too."

They hung up. A moment later, Jack's phone sprang to life. The screen showed an unknown number with a local area code. Perplexed, he answered cautiously.

"Hello?"

" _Ohayou_ , Jackson-sensei."

Jack froze. Even over the phone, he knew that deep, smoke-laced voice and its mocking tone.

It was Okegawa.

"How the hell did you get this number?"

Okegawa chuckled. It felt like bits of sand being poured into Jack's eardrums. "Come now, my friend. We both know it's child's play to acquire such a thing, especially after I went through your laptop and personal information."

Jack gritted his teeth. "What do you want? Wait, let me guess. Still stumbling around trying to find me? I don't know how many toe-heads you've got out there looking for me, but maybe you should hire ones who can shoot straight."

Okegawa scoffed. "I suppose you're right. I was most disappointed in Aisaka-san's decision to open fire when they were chasing after you. Rest assured, it's been dealt with."

"Good to know you run a tight ship. So, are you going to threaten me or not? I haven't got all goddamn day and you're running up my cell phone bill."

Okegawa laughed again, softly. "Oh, Jackson-sensei. I think we both know each other much better than that. I will gain nothing by threatening you. I've seen the kind of man you are."

"Have you now?"

" _Hai_. We've spent a brief time together, but that does not mean I haven't had my eye on you all along. You camouflage yourself. You pretend that you are a man of intellect, but we both know better. You have instincts that have nothing to do with knowledge. You are a wolf in sheep's clothing. And that's fine. So am I."

"A wolf, you say? I thought you were just a mangy dog that Yagami let off the leash when his project failed."

The line went so silent Jack thought the _shateigashira_ had hung up. Then he spoke in a hush. "You are not fit to speak his name, _kono yarou_ , nor are you fit to discuss what you think our relationship is. You have no idea what you've gotten yourself into, and I think it's high time that I educate you on the current stakes."

Jack's phone chimed suddenly. Frowning, he pulled it away from his face and flicked to the main menu, noticing he had a text message. He opened it and then went absolutely still.

It was a photo of Fujioka and Kamala sitting on a rooftop, both with binoculars.

The phone chimed again and a second photo appeared; this one with the barrel of a sniper rifle visible and pointed at the two women, who seemed to only be a few yards below.

"I will make this simple," Okegawa said. "You will leave that apartment and walk down the sidewalk to the nearest stoplight. You will get in the car that is waiting at the curb for you. If you attempt to contact Fujioka or Anjali-sensei to warn them, my man will open fire."

"Bullshit," Jack snarled. "You were told not to harm Kamala. I know you're lying."

"You are correct. He will shoot Fujioka instead."

Jack paled. Okegawa continued. "You have my word that if you cooperate, no harm will come to your bodyguard. The men who are hunting you will be called off. You have the power to stop all of it right now without any further bloodshed. There is no hope left for you, Jackson-sensei. You knew that the second you left the shores of your beloved America. Stop pretending that you're the hero of this story and accept your fate. You have one minute to comply or the next photo I send will be of Fujioka's remains."

Okegawa hung up.

"Goddammit!" Jack roared, flinging the phone to the floor. He paced back and forth, fisting his hair with his free hand, panting as panic rose inside him in a suffocating wave. One minute to comply. One minute to decide if rescuing Pete was worth Fujioka's life. One minute to decide if he was ready to say goodbye to everything, because there was no going back after this.

He grabbed a sheet of paper and scribbled on it as fast as he could and left it on the desk. He shut his eyes and pressed his hand to it, his voice hoarse.

"I'm sorry."

The closest street to Fujioka's apartment had a town car limousine with tinted windows idling with its hazard lights on, and a stocky man in a black suit standing in front of the rear passenger's seat. Jack clenched his jaw and forced himself to walk over to him. Once in range, the man held out one hand.

"Your firearm and your cell phone please, Dr. Jackson," he said in hushed, accented English.

Jack reached beneath his coat and slipped them to him. The man dismantled the gun and stomped Jack's cell phone in half. His actions so smooth Jack was sure the guy did it several times a week.

"Thank you. Please step inside."

"Wow," Jack muttered as the man opened the car door. "You're the politest kidnapper I've ever seen."

He climbed in and the stocky man did the same. The car pulled into traffic a second later.

"I will keep this simple," the man said in that same empty voice. "If you cooperate, no harm will come to you. If you attempt to escape, I will hurt you. Badly. Do you understand?"

"Yeah, yeah," Jack growled. "I've seen enough movies to know where this is going. Act like I'm totally whipped and you'll pretend like I can make it out of this alive."

The edge of the man's lips twitched. "Please hold out your hands. Wrists together."

Jack's heart rabbited inside his chest. He swallowed hard as the air seemed thicker and harder to process. He held out his arms, hoping the man wouldn't notice the slight tremor in them.

The man slipped a pair of zip-ties on him and pulled them taut, then handed Jack a black hood. Jack pulled it on and breathed in the smell of clean cotton as slowly as he could, reminding himself to keep a cool, scientific distance about his current predicament. Instead of mouthing off more, he concentrated on the ride, noting the distance...each turn, each stop. There was little chance he'd be able to do anything with this information, but he logged it away anyhow.

He estimated that they drove for over an hour, and as the clamoring honks of car horns and the white noise of crowds fell away, he realized they were leaving the city. What little hope he'd clung to of finding a way to lead Kamala and Fujioka to his location, shriveled and died as time passed.

Finally, he heard the tires crunching over what sounded like gravel, and then the car came to a halt. The driver exchanged words with someone outside of the vehicle and then they drove for a short distance before parking.

"Watch your head," the man beside him said, pulling him out of the car. Jack stepped out onto concrete. The man kept a firm grip on his left bicep and led him along until he heard the faint squeak of a door opening and felt cold air whoosh over his body. Tile clicked underneath his dress shoes and the sound bounced around as if wherever he was had high walls and ceilings.

The hood was lifted away and Jack blinked a few times as his eyes adjusted to the light. He'd been expecting some dark, dank warehouse with torture victims hanging from meat hooks.

Instead, he stood in a pristine lobby with a pretty young woman at the desk answering phone calls. A logo embellished in bright red kanji hovered on the wall behind her.

"Sugimoto Pharmaceuticals," Jack muttered. "Why am I not surprised? What? Are you going to grind me up into one of your pills and sell me to the highest bidder?"

The man ignored him and dragged him over to the counter. Surprisingly, the secretary smiled and didn't even seem to notice that Jack was in fact zip-tied. The man said something brief to her and she nodded, tapping her intercom. Jack picked out enough from her words to tell that she was waving them through to see someone.

"This way," the enforcer said, guiding Jack towards his left. The air was frigid and he could smell the sharp lemon of the floor cleaner. They passed several doorways that were accessible only by keypads with handprint scanners. They turned right into the next hall. On the right side, Jack saw a huge room with long tables. Various lab equipment was perched on them and men and women in masks, gloves, and lab coats hunched over their work.

At last, the man swiped his key card to open the door to a room at the end of hallway. This one was a conference room with a table that had eight cushioned black leather chairs and bland paintings of flowers on its pale blue walls. A woman in her mid-thirties sat at the far end of the table shuffling papers. She glanced up as they entered and offered them a faint smile.

"Welcome, Dr. Jackson," she said in perfect English. "Please have a seat."

She motioned to the man at his side. "Please wait outside, Watsuki-san."

" _Hai._ " The man slipped out of the door, but he noted that he hovered right in front of it. No chance for an escape, or at least not an easy one.

Jack quickly took stock of the room. Only one door. No windows. The table had nothing but papers and a pen on it.

Next, he examined the woman. Her hair was pulled back in a simple bun and she had a white blouse beneath a tailored navy suit. Her makeup was light and he didn't see any suspicious bulges suggesting she had a firearm. Nevertheless, something about her made the hairs on his neck stand on end.

"Sit," she said again, still smiling.

"I just sat for an hour in the limousine I was kidnapped in. I think I'll stand, thanks."

"Very well," she said, nonplussed. "We have much to discuss."

"Yeah, no shit," Jack growled. "First of all, do you seriously not care that your boss just blackmailed and kidnapped me in broad daylight and then brought me to your facility? Maybe all of you are corrupt and this happens all the time, but I doubt that a legitimate business like Sugimoto Pharmaceuticals can keep the lights on pulling shit like this constantly. That leads me to believe these are extenuating circumstances. Secondly, if Okegawa knew where I was, he could have gotten to me earlier, which means something on your end just went wrong. The fact that you're meeting with me and he isn't, also says a lot. I'm guessing the authorities finally moved their asses on this investigation and he's lying low, or else he'd be here to rub it in my face that he got one over on me. Lastly, who the hell are you and why aren't you concerned that I might wrap my hands around your neck and use you as a human shield while I try to bust out of here?"

The woman folded her hands. "You may call me Minako-san if you wish. No, we do not handle our clients this way on a regular basis, and I am very aware that this is highly unprofessional as well as dangerous. I am also aware of your reputation, Dr. Jackson. You are angry and you have every right to be, but you are not a violent man. You're a scientist. You know very well that it is inadvisable to try and fight your way out of here. You are isolated from any form of outside contact, and you will be unable to use me to bargain for your freedom, even if you threaten me. If you attempt to do so, my associate Watsuki-san will do whatever is necessary to pacify you."

"Do you want me to say it now or later? Because I'm fine with either."

She tilted her head slightly. "Say what?"

"Go to hell. I'm not helping you, any of you, no matter what you tell me. I didn't come here to surrender, lady. I came here to stall for time. Fujioka's not an idiot. If Okegawa found her and placed someone there to threaten her, she'll find out, and then she'll wipe the floor with them. After that, maybe she'll have enough time to come and get me, but until then you can all go fuck yourselves."

"Dr. Jackson, you misunderstand. I am not here to procure your assistance."

"Oh, is that right?"

"Yes. I am here to show you the dragon."

Jack swallowed hard. "Excuse me?"

"She's being held here. Would you like to see her?"

Jack glared. "You think that's funny?"

"I am not joking. The reason that Yagami-san is not here is because of your volatile temper. I have been instructed to show you the dragon. Nothing more, nothing less. Your file states that you are much more logical and receptive around women, and so I was charged to convince you to cooperate. Again, I ask, would you like to see your dragon?"

The silence was deafening. Jack took a deep breath and spoke quietly. "If you're lying to me... know that I will take my chances at fighting my way out of here."

"Understood, Dr. Jackson."

"Then yes. I'd like to see her."

Minako stood and gestured towards the door. "Follow me."

She opened the door and walked out, turning to the left. Watsuki fell in step behind Jack as they made another turn before reaching an elevator. She pressed the down button and went in. Minako retrieved a key card from her pocket and swiped it, yping in a four-digit code to select the basement level. Jack counted the floors as they descended, his stomach twisting itself into a constricted knot.

At last, the metal doors parted to reveal a long hallway with concrete floors. Instead of walls, there were thick plate-glass windows on either side of them, numbering up to ten. Each room was about eight-by-ten feet with stone walls and small holes in the glass, and had the same panels with key card access as the upper floor. However, strangely, the rooms were empty. A couple of janitors were sweeping one of them and laying down fresh hay in one corner.

"I caution you," Minako said, slowing her gait as they reached the end of the corridor. "Do not make any loud noises. It upsets her."

"Why?" Jack said, snorting as he came up to the last room on the right. "Scared of a little bitty—"

The last word dropped out of his open mouth breathy and hoarse. "...dragon?"

Before she'd been stolen, Pete had been about the size of a chameleon.

The dragon lying on the floor of the cell was the size of a young horse.

Heavy manacles rasped and clinked at her swan-like neck and limbs, each connected by thick chains that were bolted to the center of the floor. She filled most of the upper part of the room with her luminous yellow wings, sprouting from her shoulders at almost four feet long each. Her tail curled around her muscular scaly body and its spiked tip lashed to and fro like a cat's. The spines along her neck and back were sharp and pointed, much like her teeth. Her claws clicked as she shifted to scratch her hind leg, and there was a thick nylon band holding her jaws shut.

Deep furrowed scratches ran down the walls and glass, evidence that she hadn't been an easy captive. There was a drain in the center of the floor with reddish-brown splatters surrounding it, and some had dried on her pale belly.

Her snout twitched once, twice, and then she opened her golden eyes to focus on her new visitors.

"Pete," Jack whispered, touching the glass with both hands. " _God._ Look at you."

The dragon tilted her head until the profile showed, her pupils contracting to slits. Then a low humming sound filled the air, vibrating through the glass and down Jack's arm. She blinked slowly and rose to her feet, shaking her streamlined body. A few dead green scales drifted free to the floor as she came forward, the chains dragging behind her. She sniffed the holes in the center of the glass and then the humming changed into two sharp barking sounds. Pete rubbed her head and neck along the glass where Jack's hands rested on the other side.

Jack choked on a laugh, tears pouring down his cheeks. "Hey, girl. Long time no see. Looks like you've been eating your veggies."

The dragon huffed on the glass, fogging it up momentarily, and then barked again before settling down with most of her body up against it. "She's beautiful."

"She's killed three people."

Jack's head whipped around to face Minako. "What?"

"When they were transporting her, one of the men that gave her the sedative was bitten while administering it. A few hours later, he died of a massive infection from the bite. When she woke up in this facility, a man sent to retrieve her for examination died when she spat venom into his eyes. Earlier today, she went berserk when they fed her and managed to decapitate one of our workers. That's why she's chained to the floor. This is the most docile I have ever seen her."

Jack wiped his face. "Guess she doesn't like being kidnapped any more than I do. How did she reach this size? What's her growth rate?"

"We have estimated that her body is constantly growing due to a genetic anomaly that is similar to Gigantism. It's the closest explanation we have. She has grown proportionally and shows no other defects."

"What does this mean for her life expectancy? If she's grown this much in three days, how can her body possible take the stress of such an intense biological process?"

"We aren't sure."

"Then maybe you shouldn't have taken her in the first goddamn place," he snarled. "How do I even know that this isn't a by-product of you experimenting on her?"

Minako held out the folder she'd carried from the conference room. "See for yourself, Dr. Jackson. Her physical exam and blood work, everything we've done since she was brought here."

Jack snatched it and flipped through the papers, muttering to himself. "You think this could be a defective gene?"

"Yes. By my estimation, if her growth remains constant, it will put too much stress on her body. She will be dead by tomorrow morning."

Jack swallowed hard. Minako moved closer. "If anyone can save her, Dr. Jackson, it's you. I cannot explain to you what we're doing here. You wouldn't believe me either way, but in spite of your doubts, I am here for the same reason you are. This dragon is important. She will revolutionize the world of science. I do not agree with the methods that have been employed to bring you to me nor do I condone them, but if you are willing to put your anger aside we can save her."

"To what end? Why save her at all when I don't know what Yagami wants to do to her in the first place?"

"I don't have all the answers. I just have what is in front of me. All I know for now is that you have a decision to make. Choose."

"So, you hold a gun to my head and tell me to fix the problem I was already going to fix back in Cambridge? I'm not agreeing to shit until you tell me what the hell is going on. It never had to come to this if all you wanted to do was help. We could have collaborated."

"I'm afraid that is an answer only Yagami-san would have."

"Fine. You want a decision, right? Bring me to him and I'll save her."

Minako glanced at Watsuki, then back at Jack. She sighed. "Excuse me."

She disappeared around the corner for several minutes. When she returned, she nodded to Watsuki. "Yagami-san has agreed to see him. Let's go."

~*~

"Something's wrong."

"What?"

Fujioka waved her hand in the general direction of Okegawa in the building across from them. "He should be sweating bullets. I know for a fact that the authorities are actively looking for him. He shouldn't be sitting on a loveseat smoking a cigarette like the cat that got the canary. No. We've missed something."

She set down her binoculars and unsnapped the hip-holster to her handgun and checked the magazine. "Call Jack."

Kamala pulled out her phone and speed-dialed Jack. She swallowed hard. "It went straight to voicemail."

Fujioka grimaced. "Try again."

She did. "Still the same."

"Just as I thought," Fujioka muttered. "We've walked ourselves right into a trap."

"Just as you thought?"

"I had this inkling that it was too simple to find Okegawa," Fujioka continued, standing and beginning a methodical sweep of the rooftop. "I've been in this business a while. Clues don't just fall in your lap. You have to claw and fight for every one of them. We might have actually lucked out with Nakamura's phone, but everything past that point was planned."

She finished her sweep and then returned to Kamala's side. "Do you have a compact mirror?"

"Yes." She took it out of her small knapsack and handed it to Fujioka. The older woman knelt and pulled out her lipstick, starting to apply it.

"Hell of a time for a touch up," Kamala said tersely.

"The high rise building over to the right has a spotter. We've been made, Dr. Anjali." Fujioka snapped the compact mirror closed and handed it back to Kamala.

"He has the better vantage point so I can't take him out. If Jack's not answering, then Okegawa's men must have gotten to him."

Kamala marched towards the staircase, but Fujioka stepped in front of her. "We can't go after Jack with that spotter there. If he's not already an abductee, we'll lead Okegawa straight to him."

Kamala balled her hands into fists, reminding herself to think logically despite the raging anger sizzling through her. "What do you propose instead?"

Fujioka pulled out Nakamura's phone. "Let's see how good Okegawa's poker face is."

She held the phone up to her ear. Kamala raised her binoculars, watching as the _shategashira_ glanced at his ringing phone and then slowly answered it.

" _Moshi moshi?_ " he said lazily.

" _Ohayou_ , Okegawa-san," Fujioka said. "I think you know who this is."

"Misaki Fujioka. Pleasure to make your acquaintance, so to speak."

"Likewise. I thought it necessary to have a little conversation with you, considering our current predicament."

"And what predicament is that?"

"That you used me to lure Jack out of the apartment and into your custody. That you have a man with a rifle pointed at me right now."

"Fujioka-san, I am offended. I would never do such a thing."

Kamala watched as he turned in the loveseat to stare out the window in their direction, though he couldn't possibly see them. She muttered a rather rude word in Hindi and continued listening intently to the conversation.

"I'm sure you wouldn't," Fujioka said with dripping sarcasm. "I will admit you outplayed me. I have underestimated you and your people. I will not make such a mistake again. So, in return for my generous admission, you're going to call your man off."

Okegawa laughed dryly. "What made you think I would do that for you?"

"Because if you don't, I'm going to shoot you."

Kamala watched as Okegawa's eyebrow rose. "You have a handgun. You can't possibly hit me from that distance."

"Oh, no, I have no doubt that it won't hit you. But the gunshots will without a doubt bring the authorities right to your doorstep."

The smug smile on Okegawa's face fell right off and hit the floor with a splat. He stood and walked to the window, glaring. "You won't. The police will interfere with your investigation and you will never find Dr. Jackson if you involve them."

"I'll take my chances, scum. Call. Him. Off." She clicked the hammer back on the pistol for added effect.

"And if I tell him to shoot you before you pull that trigger?"

"Go ahead, if you think he's fast enough."

Okegawa's hands balled into fists. "All you're doing is stalling. You will not find him. I promise you that. Do yourself a favor and take _ojō-sama_ to the airport and send her back where she came from. Your friend is lost. Your cause is lost. There is nothing left for you here, Fujioka-san, and if you cross me, I will not hesitate to crush you the same way I intend to crush your little scientist."

"That sounds lovely. Let's make a play-date for later tonight when I kick in your doors and mess up that pretty face of yours. Now, call him off or I'll take the shot."

She hung up and gauntleted the gun with her left hand, staring coldly down at the wide windows to Okegawa's suite. "Dr. Anjali?"

"He's calling someone," Kamala said. A pause. "There. He hung up."

Fujioka picked up her own binoculars and aimed them at the rooftop where the spotter had been. A man in a ski mask and all black flipped her off and then turned, walking away from the ledge.

She bared her teeth in a vicious grin. "That's better. Is Okegawa still there?"

"No."

"Then we have to follow him. Let's move."

They had barely taken a few steps when Fujioka happened to glance upward to see a small cylindrical object sailing towards them.

"Down!" she shouted, tackling Kamala flat to the rooftop and covering her.

The flash bang grenade exploded and then the world became screaming white noise.

Kamala's eyes had closed upon impact when she hit the ground, but that was the only good fortune to report. She gasped for air, the wind knocked out of her after being tackled, and her ears throbbed and stung as if someone had jammed an ice pick into them. A piercing ringing filled her head and she dug her fingertips into the gravel beneath her, panicking as the whole world slid from beneath her and started to spin. She gritted her teeth and forced air into her lungs, coughing and sputtering a few times, and then wriggled from underneath Fujioka.

The bodyguard hadn't fared much better. She pushed up on her hands and moaned at the teeth-clench wretched screech in her ears, swaying to one side as she tried to keep her balance. She opened her eyes to check the rooftop where the spotter had been, but the sky and the buildings were currently doing the tango, whirling in circles. Nausea rolled up through her torso and she shut her eyes tightly, suppressing the urge to vomit. She flopped down on her forearms and counted to thirty, slowing her breathing until she felt steadier. By the time she could stand, she knew that it had been several minutes, and Okegawa was long gone.

"Son of a bitch!" Fujioka slammed her fist into the door leading back down into the apartment building. "I have had it with these fucking bastards. If that's the way they want to play it, fine. No more tip-toeing around."

She offered Kamala her arm and tugged the scientist to her feet, steadying her and peering into her face. "Can you hear me?"

"Not well," Kamala said. "But yes."

"Pull yourself together. We're heading into the dragon's lair."

"What?"

"We're going to see Keiko Sugimoto."

# CHAPTER TWELVE

DIANE YOUNG

From what Jack had seen so far, nearly every square inch of Sugimoto Pharmaceutical's R&D facility was sterile, spotless, and cold, and the office where Watsuki and Minako brought him to was no different. The walls were a blinding white, like a flash of lightning smeared everywhere, and the tile floor so shiny he could see the bags under his eyes in the reflection. It also had no signs of comfort, like a love seat, personal knick knacks, or photos; just bookcases, a large desk, three straight-backed wooden chairs, and one window facing an open field of vibrant green grass.

Dr. Yagami Sugimoto sat at the desk, his thin fingers flying across the keyboard of his laptop, his reading glasses perched on his nose. He didn't glance up as the trio walked in. Minako had to clear her throat to get his attention.

"Yagami-san?"

He peeled his gaze from the computer. Something flickered across his face. Jack tried to identify it. Disgust. Anger. Exhaustion. Regret. He couldn't tell.

"Thank you, Minako-san. Please return to the lab. I'll be down there shortly."

She nodded, bowed her head, and left.

Yagami gestured to Jack. "Would you take the zip-ties off him? They aren't necessary, for God's sake."

Watsuki blinked rapidly. "Yagami-san? Are you sure?"

"Yes, yes, I can handle it. Please wait outside the door."

The big man took a deep breath and seemed as if he was going to disobey him, but a moment later, he withdrew a stiletto blade from his pocket and snipped off Jack's restraints. He bowed to Yagami briefly, sent a harrowing glare at Jack in warning, and then left.

Yagami pushed the chair back and stood, rubbing his sinuses. "He means well, but he's a bit thick sometimes. You'll have to excuse him." He set his glasses down on the desk and sighed. "I suppose you have a lot to say to me."

"Where do I even start?" Jack said quietly; the kind of quiet that usually preceded someone loading ammo into a gun and then taking aim. "Where...the _fuck_...do you get off stealing my work, threatening me and my best friend, forcing us to fly halfway around the world to get our dragon back from the criminal who stole her from us, and then kidnapping me to help you save her after you realized you don't know jack-shit about her? Do you even understand what I've been through since the unveiling? Okegawa's men murdered a detective in broad daylight. They broke into my apartment and stole all my data, as well as Kamala's. And to top it off, your fucking lackey _shot me in the arm_. I worked beside you for nearly three years, Yagami. I know we aren't exactly friends, but there is absolutely nothing you can say to justify what you've done. Give me one good reason I shouldn't rip your goddamn head off."

Yagami picked up the small pack of cigarettes on the desk and tapped it against his palm until one popped out, nodding. "Yes. Sounds about right. That famous Rhett Jackson temper."

"Oh," Jack laughed. "You haven't even _begun_ to see my temper."

Yagami lit the cigarette and inhaled deeply before replying. "I suppose this is the part where I explain that the end justify the means, and that any harm I've done to you has been in service to the scientific agenda that I have ahead of me. I could tell you that I never wanted any of this, and that it happened too quickly to comprehend and make logical decisions. I could tell you that I am ashamed of what I had to do in order to make certain things happen, in order to save my own ass, as well as that of someone I care for very deeply."

He blew out the smoke. "But I'm not going to say that. It would be patronizing, and if I'm being honest, it would also be untrue."

"Why doesn't that surprise me?" Jack said. "I saw the snake in you the second you walked into the lab and refused to shake my hand the day we met. Kamala only sees the best in people, but I think you knew from the get-go that something this fucked up was in your future. Especially if you've been running with Okegawa since you were a kid, like the rumors say."

"Rhett," Yagami said lowly. "I'm only going to say this once. Don't talk about Kazuma as if you know anything about him. You don't."

Jack laughed again. "You know, my painkillers are wearing off, but I think I have just enough strength in this arm to crush your fucking windpipe." He marched towards him, his fingers curling into fists.

Yagami didn't move. "If you kill me, it won't change anything."

Jack grabbed two handfuls of his lab coat. "No, but I'll feel a hell of a lot better."

He slammed him into the wall behind them. The bookcase nearby thudded and several books slid off, clattering onto the floor. "Why did you do this? Is it really just to save your own ass because your project went down in flames? Or are you really so goddamn petty that you wanted to ruin everything I've done just because you don't like me? Go ahead. Tell me. Then, I'll beat you to death and see you in hell when I'm done."

"What does it matter, Rhett?" Yagami said tiredly. "What's done is done. Will you find satisfaction in anything that I tell you?"

"We're both men of science. You know damn well that the why means everything."

Yagami stared up at him for a long moment and then exhaled, as if defeated. "It wasn't my idea. Kazu and I had dinner that night, like we planned, and he told me that we could just take the dragon and figure everything out in the aftermath. I told him not to do it. I knew what would happen if he did, but he disobeyed me and put the wheels in motion on his own. After I found out the dragons were poisoned, I went looking for him. I didn't catch up to him until after he'd set the fire at the veterinary hospital and took the dragon. I had a choice to make. I could turn him in and suffer the consequences of our association, or I leave Cambridge and start from scratch. At the time, it seemed easier to just vanish and hope that in all the confusion, everything would work itself out."

He snorted. "I suppose that was naïve of me, but it sounded good at the time. I didn't find out about the death of Detective Stubbs until after I'd landed in Tokyo. Believe whatever you want, but I regret that most of all. Kazu's men don't understand restraint. They just act. Taking his life meant nothing to them, and that's why I have taken care to keep Pete out of their reach. The yakuza have no say in what happens to her, and I will keep it that way."

"That is not your call to make," Jack snarled. "It was never your call to make."

Yagami shook his head. "I told Kamala that this is why you are doomed to fail. You are so narrow-minded. You can't see past your own little world, can you? This is bigger than you, Rhett. You reached into the abyss and pulled out something powerful that this world hasn't seen for centuries. What makes you think the dragon is yours and yours alone? That there aren't other interested parties that span the length of decades? That this isn't part of something far greater than either one of us? You changed the world. The results aren't always what you want them to be. You altered the course of history with this discovery, and there are consequences."

"So, that's how you see it, huh? All from the distant perspective of a god? That you aren't directly responsible for the murder of Detective Stubbs because you didn't pull the trigger? That this hole in my arm wasn't your fault because you weren't there? Maybe you can rationalize what you've done, but we both know the truth. You want the glory. Whatever you and your scientists do from this point on with my work will bring you everything your selfish little heart desires, and you'll rub that in your daddy's face before he dies. Congratulations, Yagami. You finally got one over on the old man."

Yagami's face twisted with anger. "This is not about my father."

"Sure it isn't. It's not like he recently wrote you out of his will and your reputation is in tatters because your project imploded and you were seconds away from crawling back to lick his boots and beg for forgiveness."

Yagami shoved Jack away from him.

Jack snorted. "Wow. All this time I thought about tearing your throat out and I'd be committing infanticide. I hope it was worth it, throwing your life away for some punk yakuza who will probably roll on you the second they slap the cuffs on him. What do you even owe this guy? Can you look me in the eyes and tell me that everything that's happened since Pete was born was worth this shit we're in now?"

Yagami stormed over to the window, lighting another cigarette on the way. Jack watched his back, contemplating how hard he'd have to throw him to shatter the glass and send him sailing four floors down to his death.

"He saved my life."

Jack stilled. "What?"

"I was thirteen years old. My father had picked me up from my mother's house and stopped along the way to meet with the _oyabun_. At that time, the yakuza in Tokyo were still feared and ran the streets, unafraid of police involvement. The Inagawa-kai clan had been trying to muscle in on the Yamaguchi-gumi's relationship with Sugimoto Pharmaceuticals, so they took it upon themselves to come up with a plan: kidnap me and force my father to cut ties with the Yamaguchi clan and work with them instead on the drug trade in Tokyo. They shot the driver, but I managed to escape out the back and run. They caught up to me in an alley. There was this homeless kid there. Scrappy little thing. Couldn't have been more than ten years old. He ambushed one of them with a broken bottle and got his gun away from him. Shot the other two dead. My father and the _oyabun's_ men found us a little while later. I told them what happened. The _oyabun_ inducted Kazuma on the spot. We became inseparable from that day forward, in secret. He's my blood brother. If I had to be immolated in his stead, then so be it. I owe him a debt that I can never repay, not even with what I did to save him after he stole your dragon."

Yagami faced him. "Tell me you wouldn't do the same for Kamala."

Jack swallowed thickly. "She wouldn't want me to do that for her."

"Is that not what you're doing now? I assume Kazu used her and the bodyguard to blackmail you into coming here. How is that any different? Sacrifice is sacrifice. Love is love."

"If you compare that scum Okegawa to Kamala again, I'll break both your legs."

Yagami offered him a thin smile. "Looks like I was right all along. You do love her."

"My personal life is none of your business."

"Maybe not, but I'd be lying if I said it wasn't part of my motivation to open your eyes."

"To what? More bullshit? Because trust me, we're good in that department."

"You're holding her back, Rhett. You're a stone around her neck, dragging her to the bottom of the ocean. Tell me you've realized that by now."

"Go to hell."

"Think about it. Do you believe you would have made the deadline without her, even after all your research? Have you seen the news lately? How her reputation has been thrown in fire along with yours? Only, the problem now is that they've dropped into the 'foreigner' category. The news has been pointing in random directions trying to attribute the blame for the theft of the dragon, and even though the project's success was a direct result of Dr. Anjali's input, they haven't even ruled her out as a suspect yet. Whereas you've been painted as the long-suffering victim because of your skin color and social status. Even now she's searching this city for you, putting her life on the line, risking everything to help you. And what have you done for her, Rhett? She has given you everything. Without her... what are you? Just a man with a lot of anger and questions that he doesn't have the answers to."

Yagami snuffed out the cigarette butt. Jack listened to the faint sizzling of the lit end going out. Something vast and terrified opened up inside him. Without her. He hadn't even considered that a possibility in the last year, not when they'd spent nearly every waking second together. Kamala's father had told her she was throwing her future away by being with him. He'd thought it was nothing more than close-minded protectiveness, but the fact of the matter was that his actions, his ambition, had dragged her into the crossfire of things he'd never dreamt of. Was she better off without him? More than that, was it even his right to make that decision? To cut ties with the one person who knew him inside and out?

Jack took a long, slow breath. "Whatever happens after today... you don't touch her. Not you, not Okegawa, not Watsuki, not your father, not the yakuza, _no one_. I don't care if I make it out of this alive. Just her. If you give me that, I'll listen to whatever God-forsaken horseshit you have planned for Pete."

Yagami blew out the last mouthful of smoke. "You have my word."

Jack stepped in close, his voice nothing more than a murmur. "If you break your word... I'll kill you. Do you understand me?"

" _Hai._ "

"Don't think that our account is settled. I promised Evelyn Stubbs that I would bring the men who killed her husband to justice, whatever it takes. You are on that list."

"Do what you must," Yagami said rather softly. "So shall I."

"Take me down to the lab."

They returned to the elevator and rode down to the basement levels. Yagami took his paperwork and laptop with him, passively watching the numbers click down one by one. "I take it Minako-san showed you the dragon's physical exam?"

"Yeah. Why?"

"Well, that's not the entire file." He handed him a manila folder. "The main reason you were called in is that we can't identify why or how Pete has been able to resist every single form of sedative we've administered to her. In order to isolate the problem, we need to be able to monitor her vital signs, but any time we've tried to put her to sleep, she doesn't go under. I've never seen anything like it. When she was still the size you last saw her, we managed to sedate her with a powerful combination of agents, and now it has no effect."

Jack studied the paperwork. "Captain America."

Yagami lifted an eyebrow. "What?"

"Did you ever see that movie? The Chris Evans one, not Reb Brown or Matt Salinger."

He blinked slowly once and answered with the mildest voice. "Yes, in passing."

"Well, the Super Soldier serum basically kicked all of his metabolic processes into overdrive and put him at absolute peak physical condition, meaning he could utilize everything in his body at maximum capacity at all times. The downside was that it was basically impossible for him to get drunk because his system processed the alcohol too fast for his body to become inebriated. Pete's growth rate is so extreme that it's most likely why you can't inoculate her any longer. She built up an immunity to it and so her body just eliminates the chemicals now."

"Odd comparison, but I get the idea. What are we to do about it, then? We have to be able to study her up close to find a cure. If she keeps attacking everyone and we can't put her under, how do you propose we get the data?"

"Easy," Jack said as the elevator dinged and the doors parted. "I'll do it."

They walked into the bare concrete hallway. "You are aware she decapitated a man earlier this morning?"

"Yes."

"If you go in there, it's quite likely she'll attack you."

"She won't," Jack said as they reached the end of the hallway. "Dragons imprint on the first thing they come in contact with. There were even rare occasions in history where they've been domesticated. She remembered me by sight and scent. She won't try to bite my head off."

"And you're willing to bet your life on it?"

Jack pressed his left hand against the glass of Pete's cell. Once more, the dragon uncurled from her position on the floor and serene humming vibrated through the air.

"Yeah," he said softly, smiling a little. "I am."

Yagami glanced between the dragon and her creator, then sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. He gestured to Watsuki and said something in Japanese. Watsuki disappeared around the corner and then returned, handing Yagami something small and cylindrical.

"Is that a _grenade?_ " Jack demanded.

"Relax," Yagami said, stepping as far back as the hallway would allow. "It's a flash grenade. It's insurance in case she kills you and tries to charge the glass again. She dislikes loud noises."

"Your faith in me is very reassuring."

"As always." Yagami nodded to Watsuki, who motioned for Jack to go up to the door. He swiped a key card yet again and punched in a number. An alarm blared and beeped as the door slid aside. Jack took a deep breath and stepped into the cage. The door shut behind him and bolted itself shut with an ominous clank.

At full height, Pete stood over six feet and seven inches tall. Her shoulders and back were level with Jack's shoulders and her head peaked above his by several inches. Her wings had folded neatly into the groove of her spine, much like a swan's, and her three-inch black claws scraped and clicked on the concrete as she crept closer to him, her forked tongue flicking the air to taste his scent.

"Hey, girl," Jack said, standing stock still as the large reptile drew near. "Rough day, huh?"

She lowered her snout to his shirt and breathed him in, blasting hot air across his neck and jaw, methodically smelling his torso, arms, and legs one at a time. She left his face for last and Jack winced as her sharp two inch-long fangs grazed his cheek. After a paralyzing long moment, the dragon settled down on her haunches in front of him, blinking slowly and humming in steady intervals, almost as if she was purring.

Jack licked his dry lips and held out his hand, palm flat, the way he would if he were approaching a large, stray dog. The dragon sniffed it. Then she sneezed.

Jack winced and wiped the thin film of mucus off on his coat sleeve. "Alright, well, I had that one coming. Are we even?"

The dragon made a chittering sound. "Good to know."

He glanced sideways at Yagami, who looked as if he'd swallowed a mouthful of broken glass and then suffered a lime juice enema shortly thereafter. "What do you need from her?"

"Unbelievable," Yagami muttered before speaking louder. "For now, we need a blood sample."

Jack stared. "You want me to stab an unstable six-foot-tall, ten-foot-long dragon with a huge needle in an enclosed space?"

Yagami offered him another razor-thin smile. "You asked."

"I hate you and everything you stand for."

"Understood."

Jack palmed his face. "When's the last time you fed her?"

Yagami checked his watch. "About four hours ago. Why?"

"She might not notice the pain if I draw blood while she's eating. Ever had a cat? They get distracted when they eat."

Yagami rubbed his chin. "That might work, but if you're wrong, then her mouth will be free to bite your head off."

"Thanks for reminding me," Jack said mildly. "But I'll take my chances. She can just as easily eviscerate me with her claws anyhow. I need to buy myself some good will here."

"Very well." Yagami gestured to Watsuki and he left, returning a few minutes later with a large bucket of whole sturgeons and a syringe.

"Are you sure about this?" Yagami asked.

Jack nodded. "Hell, no."

Yagami punched in the code and swiped the key card. The door clicked and slid open. Pete eyed the large Japanese man stepping into the cage, and her purring switched immediately to a rumbling hiss emanating from her throat and nostrils. Jack laid a hand on her neck and the hissing died down. Watsuki set the bucket in front of the dragon and slipped Jack the syringe before beating a hasty retreat.

After the door closed, Pete stood and dipped her head down, smelling the fish. Jack lifted her head, taking a deep breath. "Alright, here's our first trust exercise, baby girl. Please don't eat me."

He slipped the thick nylon band off her snout and tucked it in his pocket. Pete didn't hesitate. She attacked the bucket of fish and devoured each one. Jack swallowed as a couple pieces of meat splattered to the ground, slashed by her fangs. With her mouth now open, he could smell the rotten remains of things she'd eaten before, and his stomach turned as he realized that technically included human flesh.

He stepped closer to her side and ran his hand down the thick green scales over her chest. He felt the dry cracks and spaces as she continued eating until he felt the thinner pale yellow scales along her throat. Carefully, he uncapped the syringe and hummed a tune, hoping the deep timbre of his voice would further soothe her. He angled the needle along the same grain that her scales ran and stuck it through her skin. Pete's wings flapped a bit and his heart skipped in its rhythm a couple times, but the dragon continued eating. Jack finally remembered to breathe and started to pull the plunger on the syringe one millimeter at a time.

Pete nosed the bucket onto its side and stuck her head inside, her dark tongue lapping up the remaining liquid at the bottom. She shifted forward abruptly and Jack stumbled. His shoulder brushed up against her side. The syringe dug into her chest.

Pete's head immediately whipped around to face him and her upper lip slid back from her fangs. Jack jerked the syringe free and hid it behind his back, holding his other hand up in supplication. "Hey, girl. Easy. Take it easy."

The dragon crept closer and hissed louder, her claws scraping across the concrete and the chains rasping as she went. Jack eased towards the door and stepped over her tail. Cold sweat coated his spine as her jaws parted wider, exposing the darkened gums where the venom lay. "It's me. I wouldn't hurt you, Pete. You know I wouldn't."

Behind him, the door unlocked.

Pete charged.

Her thick spiny tail slammed into Jack's legs. He hit the floor on his back, managing to hang onto the syringe so that it didn't break on impact. She was on him in seconds, her clawed feet pinning his shoulders to the floor. She roared, her tail lashing behind her, wings expanding and kicking up gusts of air around them. The winded scientist stayed perfectly still, but he was alone in that action; on the other side of the glass, Watsuki had drawn his handgun and was stepping towards the door as it opened.

"Don't!" Jack wheezed. "Stay out!"

"Rhett, don't be a fool!" Yagami snapped. "She'll kill you!"

"She won't," he said. "Stay out, dammit!"

He faced the dragon. "Look at me, you giant gecko. I'm trying to help you. I can't do that unless you let me up."

Pete loosened a horrible growl and dug her claws in deeper, leaning more of her weight onto his upper body. Jack grunted and glared into her yellow eyes.

"You're not going to eat me. If you were, you'd have done it the second I walked in here."

He lifted his head until it was inches from her dripping jaws. "Get. Off. Me. _Now_."

Pete's growling hiss slowly subsided and she snorted harshly before sitting back on her haunches. Jack wriggled out from beneath her and straightened his coat. "That's more like it. I brought you into this world. Don't think I won't take you out of it."

He marched through the door and it shut behind him. Jack handed Yagami the blood sample.

"I must admit," Yagami said slowly. "I have never found you to be an impressive man until now."

"Well, that's just dandy. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go splash cold water on my face and vomit a few times."

~*~

"I'm sorry, but you're going to have to repeat that."

"Keiko-sama is very busy woman, Fujioka-san. I am afraid this is the only available time that she has to meet with you."

Fujioka crossed her arms. "And you want us to just climb into her limousine while she heads God-knows where to meet God-knows who about God-knows what?"

The young man bowed his head slightly. "I apologize for the inconvenience, but she is pressed for time. The only other option would be to reschedule."

Fujioka exhaled hard through her nose and glanced at Kamala. "Are you up for this?"

"Jack's out there alone and Okegawa could be on his way to him as we speak. We have to find out where they are, no matter what the cost."

"I was afraid you'd say that." She turned back to Keiko's assistant. "Fine. We'll get in the damn car."

She stepped towards it, but he intercepted her, still wearing an empty apologetic smile. "I am afraid I must insist that you hand over your firearms."

Fujioka gritted her teeth. "You're damaging my patience, boy. We have no guarantees that we won't be harmed or that this isn't an elaborate set up. The guns stay on. Period."

"Fujioka-san—"

The tinted window of the limousine rolled down. The boy's spine snapped straight and he whirled around to face it. " _Moshi wake arimasen,_ Keiko-sama. They do not wish to surrender their weapons."

An elegant, lazy female voice floated out from the car. "It's fine, Kenji. Let them in."

"Yes, Keiko-sama." The assistant stepped off the curb and opened the door, gesturing for the two women to enter. Fujioka slipped in first and Kamala followed. Kenji shut the door and then walked to the passenger's side and told the driver to get going.

The interior of the limousine reminded Kamala of a classy nightclub. The walls were red velvet and the lighting was dim on their side, creating an air of intimacy. There was a mini-bar to her right with a few shallow sake cups and a large ceramic bottle. The leather didn't squeak beneath her weight, and hugged her body as if she were wearing it. Silence wrapped them like a blanket, and she realized the limo had soundproof walls.

Keiko Sugimoto sat across from them, her long legs crossed, the spotlight above her head shining on the folder in her lap. Her hair was pulled back in a ponytail at the nape of her neck and she wore thin, rectangular glasses on the edge of her fine nose. Accents of red jumped out of her outfit: the blouse beneath her black suit jacket, the bottom of her stilettos, the lipstick on her thin lips, the glittering tips of her fingers, and the beaded earrings dangling from her lobes.

She glanced at the two women across from her. " _Yōkoso_. What brings you to me?"

Fujioka arched an eyebrow. "As if you don't already know."

Keiko offered a familiar thin, joyless smile. "Humor me."

"Your brother has orchestrated a massive plot with an endgame we are unsure of. Aside from stealing Dr. Anjali and Dr. Jackson's work, he has also endangered both their lives while in the company of several distasteful people. At present, we have reason to believe he had Dr. Jackson kidnapped and brought to him for reasons unknown. We need to find him as soon as possible."

Keiko sighed quietly and closed the folder in her lap, setting it aside. "Sadly, I am not surprised to hear my _onii-chan_ has made even more poor decisions than attending the institute instead of staying in Tokyo to accept the role he was meant for. Especially since he is in the company of those who are beneath him."

"Like Okegawa?" Kamala asked.

Keiko nodded and reached for a glass, filling it with filtered water. "I will never understand why Yagami humors that gutter rat. He can't see that he's a big fish in a small pond, and that it will get him eaten someday."

She sipped the water and examined the red mark her lipstick left on the polished glass. "What are you willing to trade in turn for any information I surrender?"

"What is it that you want?"

"Many things," Keiko said. "That's why I asked. You need to understand that the price will be rather steep. What stake do you have in this fight, Dr. Anjali?"

"What does it matter?"

Keiko's dark eyes sharpened into a glare. "You are a scientist, are you not? What experiences do you have with the world you've just entered? You're not like Fujioka. She's lived here for years and she knows what you are involved in now. I'm surprised she even agreed to this meeting because I'm quite sure she's already deduced the outcome. Why do you care what happens to Dr. Jackson? Aren't you just his lab assistant?"

"What do I owe him?" Kamala said. "I suppose that's the big question. After all, if I wanted to, I could just return to Cambridge and salvage what's left of our project. We're friends, of course. I'll never forget the way we met. He was in the lab when I came in to do the interview for the position. I walked through the door and he just stopped dead and dropped his coffee on the floor. He apologized about a thousand times for being clumsy and I helped him clean up the mess, but I never forgot the way he looked at me. I could tell he was worn down by the applicants before me and he couldn't find someone who understood the obsessive, almost neurotic way he pursues information, and I was unlike anything he'd ever seen before. When we spoke, he listened, and I don't mean in that patronizing way that men often listen when they want to have sex with you. He heard me; heard where I'd come from, heard where I wanted to go with my life, and in spite of any doubts he might have held, he believed it's what I wanted and what I was meant to do. He hired me on the spot that day. He was the first man I ever met who respected me fully and didn't have some sort of ulterior motive; no mountainous ego to climb, no reason to distrust my skills and my knowledge because of the color of my skin. I have worked with dozens of top minds in the medical and scientific world, and not one of them even holds a candle to Rhett Jackson. I believe in him because he believes in me. I trust him because he trusts me. I protect him because he protects me."

Kamala leaned forward, her smile acidic. "So tell me where your brother took him or I'll spend the rest of my life finding a way to destroy you and everything you hold dear."

Keiko watched her silently for a long handful of seconds and then drained her glass. "You will surrender your personal notes and anecdotes about the processes by which you were able to procure viable samples of the dragon's DNA. You will include specific sources of information which allowed you to create dragon eggs. You will list every species whose DNA can be recreated with modern technology, and applied to your creation system. You will give my research company full access to any further pursuits of the dragon resurrection project. It will be non-negotiable indefinitely."

"Done."

"Very well. Sign here." She handed Kamala a pre-written itemized document of everything she'd just said. Kamala signed without hesitation.

Keiko withdrew her cell phone and made a brief call. After a minute or two, she hung up. "Dr. Jackson is being held at the research and development facility in Kanagawa, up in the mountains. It will take you over an hour to arrive, so you had better get going."

She flipped a piece of paper over and wrote an address on the back, handing it to Fujioka. "The facility is well-fortified and I am sure Okegawa is on his way with his men. It will not be easy to recover him."

"Good," Fujioka said, her smile bright and fierce. "Easy is boring."

"They'll likely be waiting for you at the rail station. They are well-equipped, but poorly trained since the yakuza under his command are younger and less experienced."

Kamala eyed her. "How do you know so much about them?"

"Okegawa once took a brief interest in me. I learned a lot during that time, especially about the unscrupulous ways he lived his life. I left for a reason. His ambitions are childish."

"And what ambitions are those?"

The limo came to a stop and Kenji opened the door, revealing that they'd pulled up to the nearest railway station. Keiko's paper-thin smile returned.

"Ask him yourself."

# CHAPTER THIRTEEN

THE KILN

"So," Kamala said as the two women walked down the sidewalk outside of the Higashi-Kanagawa railway station. "What are the odds that Keiko was telling the truth?"

Fujioka sent her an appraising look. "You're getting good at this. Maybe you should have been a sleuth instead of a scientist."

"Don't blow smoke up my ass, Fujioka-san. It's uncomfortable."

Fujioka barked out a laugh. "The chances are quite good. She's got an agenda fit for a queen. She wants us to find her brother and Okegawa and throw the proverbial monkey wrench in their plans. Besides, I'm sure she assumes we'll kill each other and she'll be free to take over as she sees fit. Her old man won't make it another year, and she'll have her own empire to run without any troublesome male influence."

"That's reassuring."

"Mm-hmm." Fujioka gathered up her hair and slipped on a ponytail holder, flipping the ends around until it was in a messy bun. Kamala removed the rings on her fingers one by one and tucked them into her pocket; notably the one not containing the firearm. They kept a steady pace and never turned around. If they had, they'd be able to clearly see the four men keeping up with them about fifty paces back.

"Think she's playing us?" Kamala asked, pulling her own short hair into a small ponytail as well.

"Most certainly. However, I don't think these idiots are part of her organization. They're sloppy bullies, nothing more. Okegawa doesn't think we're worth the trouble of sending his more experienced men, apparently."

"Isn't that a good thing?"

Fujioka shrugged and cracked her knuckles. "Not for my stress relief. Punching a guy's lights out in only one hit makes my job boring."

Kamala shook her head. "Well, we wouldn't want that now, would we?"

They turned the corner. "Need any refreshers?"

"Not really. Ears, eyes, groin, nose, and feet. Are you sure I can't just use the gun to scare them off?"

"If you were an experienced gun owner, then I'd have no problem with it, but you aren't. It's too easy to make a mistake when you don't use a gun often. We have no way of knowing how one of them would react at gunpoint, and most shooting accidents happen due to panic. Besides, if we have a death on our hands, the investigation ends. Even if you kill in self-defense, you'd be detained."

Kamala sighed. "I suppose that makes sense. Where do I meet you afterward?"

"Our driver is one block away from the front of the convenience store, in a silver car with tinted windows. If you get there first, wait ten minutes. If I'm not there by then, leave without me. I'll catch up."

"I can't get Jack back without you."

"I know," Fujioka said, a bit softer this time. "I don't intend to let you. But if worse comes to worst, go to the U.S. embassy and they'll make sure you're safe."

Kamala frowned. "I don't want to be safe. I want my best friend back."

"And so does he, Dr. Anjali. Don't be reckless. Be smart. Survive. One step at a time will lead us back to Jack. Now then, are you ready?"

Kamala took a long breath in and out. "Yes."

"Go."

The two women stood stock still in the middle of an intersection of modest apartment complexes and quiet homes, where there were only straggling pedestrians and little to no traffic.

Then they broke off into a sprint in opposite directions.

The men following them cursed and split into pairs, racing after them.

The street Kamala chose ran parallel to train tracks and had a large hill on the left side full of grass and lined with potted plants. Her shoes slapped the road as she ran full speed down the narrow one-way road, listening intently to the thundering noise of the men behind her. She'd gained a good distance with the element of surprise, but she knew the limits of her own body. She wouldn't be able to sprint for long.

She veered right after reaching the end of the street and had to slide over the hood of a car waiting for the light to change, its driver angrily honking in her wake. The men behind her cursed as they stumbled into it and one of them called out to her in Japanese. She could tell it wasn't a nice phrase.

By the time they made it around the corner, Kamala was nowhere to be found. The two men cursed again and split up: one heading down the narrow one-way street ahead, the other going towards the left where there were driveways leading into the apartments and small houses.

The shorter man had a black suit, no tie, and high-top tennis shoes, and held a butterfly knife down his thigh to keep it out of sight as he eased his way towards the first driveway. Most of its occupants weren't home, but there were a few cars, so he stooped and checked underneath them.

After he looked beneath all of them and around the side street, he turned to head back in the direction of his partner. Kamala came out from beneath the front porch and kicked him in the groin as hard as she could.

The thug squealed and dropped to his knees, his knife sliding several feet away on the road. One hand clutching his wounded genitals, he snarled and whirled around, reaching for her. She ducked the sloppy punch he threw at her and landed a solid jab to his diaphragm. He choked on nothing for a moment, winded, and Kamala hammered him twice in the left ear. He fell to his knees again, gasping and dazed with pain. She delivered a vicious front kick to the nose and he hit the pavement on his back, groaning and bleeding.

She recovered the knife, flipped it closed, and tucked it into her pocket. She eyed the floored man and then grabbed a potted plant from the yard. She dropped it on his head and he went out like a light. She nodded to herself, dusted off her hands, and hurried towards the direction she'd come from. She froze as she turned the corner.

The taller, heavily tattooed bald thug stood there, also armed with a butterfly knife. He smiled toothily at her and held a finger up to his lips. "Shhh."

Kamala's heart rattled against her rib cage, cold sweat gathering along the small of her back as she tried not to panic.

"Come quietly, _ojō-sama_ ," the man said in a heavy accent. "I won't hurt you."

"I know you won't," she spat. "You'll have to catch me first, shithead."

She whirled. He lunged after her. His long stride put him only a few steps behind her, and the distance closed between them as she raced toward the corner.

Kamala's eyes watered as she ran. Her lungs screamed for air and her muscles throbbed with overuse. She could hear him getting closer and knew if he got his hands on her, she'd be helpless unless Fujioka somehow caught up with them. Every second she wasted evading this man, Jack was suffering. She had to save him. By any means necessary.

She decided it was time to find out what that meant.

Kamala planted the ball of her foot, executed a perfect hairpin 180 degree turn, and aimed her fist directly at the man's throat.

The man couldn't dodge or avoid her at breakneck speed. The momentum carried him straight into her fist and the force took them both off their feet.

Kamala crashed onto the concrete on her back, crying out as the pain lashed up her spine and shoulders, and the edge of her skull smacked the ground. She wheezed and stared up at the blue heavens above her, clutching her right hand. Fire crawled up from her wrist to the tips of her fingers. She might as well have punched solid concrete. Every nerve burned like she'd dipped the appendage in acid and then gave it a salt bath.

The thug had tumbled head-over-foot after she hit him, and it took her several agonizing seconds to notice his body lying across from her. Gritting her teeth, she pushed to her feet and stumbled until she found her balance, cradling the injured hand against her stomach.

He wasn't moving. Instead, he was facedown. One hand was carelessly out in front of him and the other was beneath his upper torso, his legs wildly splayed like he was about to do a one-handed push up.

Just to be sure he wasn't faking, she turned him over with her foot.

Kamala brought her trembling left hand up to cover her mouth.

The thug's butterfly knife was lodged in his chest.

His mouth hung open slightly, as if his last expression had been sheer surprise. The death had been so instantaneous that his eyes weren't even closed. Blood soaked the white t-shirt and painted his hand and wrist deep scarlet. She could tell by the angle that it had shredded his heart and possibly part of his lung in the fall. Her first instinct to check his pulse shriveled and died with a whimper. She knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that the injury had been fatal.

Sobs choked her throat, but no sound escaped aside from her quaking breaths. She'd only meant to immobilize him so she could get away. Was he dead before or after the knife went in? Had she subconsciously known this would happen and yet did it anyway?

Kamala took several gulps of air and forced herself to back away from the fallen man, checking to see if anyone was around. Midday in this prefecture meant most people were at work, so she didn't spot a witness. Still shaking, she pulled her sleeve up over her still functioning hand, fished out the man's phone, dialed the emergency number, and then left it next to him as it rang.

Then she hurried back to the meeting point.

~*~

Fujioka was already sitting in the backseat wiping a travel-size alcohol cloth over her split knuckles when Kamala opened the car door. It took her all of .00005 seconds to realize something had gone horribly wrong.

"What is it?" Fujioka demanded, her sharp eyes darting outside the car to detect a potential threat.

"Nothing," Kamala said hoarsely, shutting the door. "Tell the driver to go."

Fujioka barked an order at the man and the car pulled into traffic. "What happened?"

"I said nothing."

"Bullshit," Fujioka spat. "Look at you. Your hands are shaking. Your eyes are bloodshot. I told you to separate and confuse them, not confront them. If I wanted a brawl, we'd have stayed together, but I didn't want you to get caught in the crossfire. Tell me what happened."

Kamala shut her eyes, fighting to keep her voice steady. "It doesn't matter. I told you we must retrieve Jack by whatever means necessary. No matter what the cost."

Fujioka stared her down a moment longer and then cursed softly. "Just one of them or both?"

Kamala said nothing. She just sat there with her hands clasped, the knuckles blanching, and pressed her forehead against them. It took Fujioka a moment to hear the whispering, and to realize that the woman was praying in Hindi.

Fujioka opened the small white case on the seat between them. She pulled out a roll of gauze and reached for Kamala's injured hand. She flinched away at first, then realized what the older woman was doing and offered her hand. Fujioka cleaned up the blood from her knuckles and carefully began to wrap her hand. "One of the men who came after me wasn't just a common street thug. He was also a mole."

Kamala paused, her reddened eyes opening. "A mole?"

"Yes."

"For whom?"

"That's the interesting part. Not who I thought. It had nothing to do with Keiko or her father Makoto. He said he worked for the Inagawa-kai."

"And you're sure he wasn't lying?"

Fujioka smirked. "I hung him upside down and hit him in the groin with brass knuckles. I'm pretty sure he was being truthful."

"Why was he after us?"

"That is the million-dollar question." She wiggled Kamala's fingers one by one, checking for any fractures. "There is a traitor in the house of Yamaguchi-gumi. Someone has been silently putting things into effect ever since they brought the dragon over here, and it wasn't just Yagami or Okegawa. I thought we would be going in to steal our boy and the dragon back, but it looks like we weren't told the whole story. There is a war brewing on the horizon."

"A war? How can that be? Japan is no different from the other countries that went out of their way to exterminate every last dragon within its borders. Why would they fight so hard to steal ours and make others?"

"That's precisely why they're fighting for the dragon. This isn't about bragging rights, Dr. Anjali. They want to bring the dragon hunters back."

Kamala shook her head. "That's impossible. The only reason they were able to base a whole culture around dragon-hunting is because there were hundreds of them in all different shapes and sizes. You'd have to try to breed them at an exponential rate for decades to have enough to hunt for sport. It took us nearly a month to give birth to only a clutch of eight, and we had all the proper equipment and access. How could they possibly try to organize something like that without being struck down by the authorities?"

"I thought the same thing. It's much more than a group of fanatics. Have you ever heard of the Red Fist?"

"Yes. It was the fiercest dragon hunter clan in all of Japan. They were credited with over two-hundred kills on record, and possibly a hundred more if the legends are true. They called them Red Fist because they wore dragon's blood as war paint during the hunts."

Fujioka nodded. "Most of the yakuza can trace their roots and find a member of the dragon hunters of Japan in their bloodlines. Inagawa-kai is notorious for still holding the belief that the Red Fist laid the foundation for their organization. They made millions killing dragons and selling their bodies to the highest bidder. They've been trying for decades to resurrect them, but every last trial ended in failure. Now that you and Jack have found a way to create the dragons, they want that technology, and they want the dragon as their prototype. When we go, we won't just be facing Okegawa's men. They're going to be under siege."

"Gods," Kamala muttered, covering one side of her face. "It just keeps getting worse."

"Yes, it does. That's why you're calling the authorities."

Kamala glanced sharply at the bodyguard. "If we do that, they'll shut everything down and the people responsible will scatter. We'll never get justice if we don't bring them in ourselves."

"Dr. Anjali, we have no choice. We're outmanned and outgunned. Infiltration was a pipe dream when it was just Yagami's men, and now we have a rival gang on their way to lay waste to it. We have to involve the authorities."

"And what if Jack gets caught in the crossfire? Or Pete? We'll have done all of this for nothing."

"It'll all be for nothing if we don't survive long enough to save them."

"Then we get there first before all hell breaks loose. We get them and we leave and let the cops sort it out once the dust settles."

Fujioka narrowed her eyes. "We? Last time I checked, you aren't trained in combat or in riflery. Are you telling me you're ready to go in there knowing that you may never come back out?"

"Yes."

"You're this shaken up over the death of a lowlife criminal, and yet you expect me to trust you, to assume that you won't fall apart if you have to pull the trigger on someone else. I've been in this life for years. I've done things you can't imagine, things that make it difficult to sleep at night. Do you understand what you're about to do? That if you come with me you cannot falter or hesitate or we'll both die and leave Jack to be torn to shreds by either side of the yakuza? I have seen your will and your desire, and I don't doubt them, but I can't vouch for your conscience. Killing someone is a choice. An act of free will. If you do this, then it will never go away. That blood doesn't wash off, no matter how many lives you save in the future. Knowing all of that... are you still willing to go?"

Kamala's gaze didn't waver. "Yes."

Fujioka took a deep breath. "Very well."

"I don't understand. Why help us if you think it's a suicide mission?"

"Well, you are paying me a handsome sum of money."

"Misaki," Kamala said quietly.

The older woman sat back in her seat, closing the case now that everything was in place. She shut her eyes and listened to the faint hum of the tires on the road as they drove.

"I had two rules in the bedroom. Never lie about what I want... and never make love to anyone."

She opened her eyes enough to meet Kamala's steady stare. "I broke both of them the night I left."

Kamala linked her fingers and rested them on her knees. "Do you still have feelings for him?"

"No. But I owe him. When I left, I was... unkind. I stomped on his heart and then scraped it off my boots like it was nothing. As time passed, I realized he wasn't the one to blame. It was on both of us. I fell just as hard. I wanted to believe I was invincible, that I could continue through life this way, with no attachments, but I was wrong. I can't repair the damage I did to him, but if I can save him, then I'll sleep better."

The two women fell silent for a long while, each for separate reasons.

"Thank you," Kamala said. "We've asked so much of you and we have no right to, but... I appreciate it more than words can say. If I can ever repay you—"

"There is only one last thing I ask of you."

"Name it."

"Make peace with your demons. You might be seeing them face-to-face soon enough."

~*~

Pretty much the only positive thing about being at Sugimoto Pharmaceuticals aside from seeing his dragon was the fact that Jack had access to painkillers. Shortly after he'd drawn Pete's blood, his arm 'woke up' and proceeded to send paralyzing pain through his entire body. Yagami sent Watsuki to get him something to take care of it, and Jack highly approved. The pain vanished in seconds and left him comfortably mellow, despite still being held against his will and needing to cure the world's only dragon in less than twelve hours.

The Massachusetts Institute of Technology's extensive system of labs was nothing to sneeze at, but Jack still found the amount of equipment at Sugimoto's R&D facility impressive. He put together a list of things he'd need to start working on the cure, and every single item was available somewhere in the premises. However, he knew he was only getting one piece of the whole story. The cell where Pete was being kept was a dead giveaway that something sinister had been in the works for a long time. R&D facilities sometimes did animal testing, but he suspected they'd been planning for this long before Pete arrived. He was determined to find out why.

For a long stretch of time, he and Yagami worked in the lab in terse silence, speaking only when discussing whatever information they uncovered. Minako was also in the lab, and her proficiency with the equipment and the subject matter was also very telling. He didn't sense any warmth between her and Yagami, which meant they were only colleagues of some sort.

After analyzing Pete's blood, they determined that they needed to inspect the production of growth hormones in Pete's pituitary gland. In humans, the most common cause for gigantism was a tumor in the gland that caused overproduction of the hormone, which required a removal if possible. The treatments ranged from radiation to injections to surgery, all of which were dangerous to inflict on a young dragon. With her ability to resist inoculation, any method they chose to treat her with would be at their own risk.

Jack also found that Sugimoto R&D had one other hidden treasure: the world's most extravagant espresso machine.

He stood leaning against the counter of the break room, blowing away steam from the top of the white coffee mug—a mug, no less, not Styrofoam, which blew his mind—and poring over what he'd already learned from their research. He found himself absently patting his pocket to look for his cell phone, forgetting that Watsuki had unceremoniously stomped it into little chunks on the sidewalk outside of Fujioka's apartment. He hadn't realized how habitual it was to chat with Kamala in his daily routine. He'd managed to push her out of his thoughts for a while, but the worry crept back over his mind like kudzu. Part of him wanted her here simply because her brilliant mind would make it that much easier to find a cure. The other part of him wanted her as far away from here as possible, somewhere she'd be safe and happy, as absurd as it sounded.

He sipped the espresso and cringed. Still too hot.

Jack glanced up from the mug. There were a couple of female scientists also in the break room eating lunch, speaking in hushed Japanese and glancing at him every so often. He'd been able to catch small snatches of the conversation, primarily about what he was doing there and how it was unusual for Yagami to be back in Japan after such a long stretch in the States.

The break room door opened. Minako walked in, heading for the legendary espresso machine as well. Jack kept blowing away and taking tiny sips, relieved as the caffeine replenished his energy bit by bit.

"So," he asked casually. "What are you in for?"

Minako watched the dark brown liquid well up inside the mug. "Excuse me?"

"What brought you here? What's your field of study?"

"Genetic engineering."

"How long have you been with this company?"

Minako poured steamed milk into the cup. "A month."

Jack's eyebrows lifted. "Seriously? That's it?"

"Yes. Why?"

"I'd have guessed longer. How'd they pull you in?"

"A favor for a friend."

Jack snorted. "Didn't think Yagami had any."

"It wasn't for him."

He regarded her thoughtfully. "Don't take this the wrong way, but it strikes me that you actually give a shit what happens to Pete. What's your stake in all this? You know that if I somehow make it out of here, the shit-storm that follows will level the place."

She stirred a spoon into the coffee with small, precise circles. "In your research pursuing this endeavor, how much time did you spend on cultures built around the study of dragons?"

"Some. I wrote a few papers on the ecological impact their disappearance had on the environment, and those intersected with societies who used to fuel their local economy off of dragons, whether they were hunting them or trying to save them from extinction."

"Some of those groups are more than conservationists," Minako said quietly. "Dragons were not just your average reptiles. They were the evolutionary bridge between reptiles and the more intelligent species capable of cognition."

"Right," Jack said. "Most reptiles rank lowest on the scale for animal cognition and intelligence. Dragons fit closer to the tier that some birds of prey belong to, since they were capable of short term memory and basic environmental problem solving."

"The people I represent are focused on similar principles of yours. We want dragons to be brought back into the world in order to study them. We have so many pieces of information from history, but they were silenced so early on that there are vast gaps in our knowledge of them. It's not for our own benefit. It's for the future generations of the world. Dragons might hold the key to other scientific marvels that mankind hasn't even grasped yet."

"I agree with you there," Jack said, smiling faintly out of habit. "I mean, I've read dozens of books about how the larger species were able to fly. Scholars could debate that ability until the cows come home."

"Then you understand my decision to work here in spite of..." She nipped her bottom lip, and a look of disapproval skittered across her face for a second. "...the unscrupulousness of our company."

"Is that directed at Yagami or Okegawa?"

Minako didn't reply; she just sipped the coffee. Jack nodded sagely. "You're a smart woman indeed."

He sighed and checked the clock on the wall behind them. "We'd better get back to it. Won't be long before Yagami gets testy or blows up the lab with the sheer force of his ego."

A soft sound escaped Minako that Jack later realized was a laugh. He held the door for her and they returned to the lab.

Only to find Kazuma Okegawa there.

Yagami and the _shateigashira_ were having a rather spirited argument when the two of them stepped inside the lab, and both men immediately fell silent once they realized who had entered. The scowl on Okegawa's face melted into a mask of smug arrogance as his dark eyes fell across Jack.

"Jackson-sensei," he said, drawing out each syllable in a mocking tone. "How nice to see you again."

"Fuckface!" Jack said cheerfully, setting his coffee aside. "Glad you could make it."

He grabbed a beaker and launched it at the yakuza lieutenant. Okegawa blocked it with his forearm and it shattered in half.

Jack didn't waste a single second.

He tackled Okegawa to the floor and pinned his arms beneath his knees, cocking his fist and landing a vicious right hook to the nose.

"That was for Pete," he snarled, and then hit him a second time. "That was for threatening Kamala."

A third time. "That was for the dragons you murdered."

Jack grabbed two handfuls of Okegawa's blood-splattered white shirt and grinned. "And this is for Detective Colin Stubbs."

He slammed the top of his skull down on Okegawa's face, breaking his nose. Okegawa wrenched his arm loose and slammed Jack's head into a nearby cabinet. He then rolled out from underneath him to his feet and kicked him in the ribs once, twice, until Watsuki came up behind him. The giant bodyguard grappled him into a full-nelson while Yagami went after Jack, who recovered and tried to lunge for Okegawa again.

"Knock it off!" Yagami bellowed. "Both of you!"

Okegawa spat blood in Jack's direction. "Cheap shot, _kusottare_."

"I'm not the one with the broken nose, bitch."

" _Kuso kurae!_ " Okegawa struggled harder, but Watsuki might as well have been a granite wall.

Yagami's feet slid across the tile floor as Jack kept coming for him. "We don't have time for this! Do you want to save your dragon or not, Rhett?"

Jack's chest heaved with heavy breaths. He saw nothing but red, laser-focused on Okegawa and the thought of making him bleed in places other than just his nose and mouth. His hands ached to get around his throat and squeeze until the criminal's windpipe gave under his grip.

"Killing him won't take more than a second," he growled. "I've got time for both."

He moved to shove Yagami away, but Minako stepped between him and the yakuza lieutenant. He froze and gave her a glare that could flash-fry a small ocean. "Move."

"You will have to move me yourself," Minako said calmly.

Jack gritted his teeth. He flexed his hands open and closed a couple times, mulling the thought over. After all, she was a perfect stranger at this point. It gave him some leeway. He wouldn't actually hurt her.

Still, she was short and dark-haired and the dissention in those brown eyes was strikingly similar to those of an equally short, dark-haired intelligent scientist who would kick his ass for getting into a brawl and wasting precious time. Jack took a deep breath and stilled the violence humming through his limbs and down his spine.

"Fine," he said, the word bitter on his tongue. "Pretty boy gets a thirty-minute pass. That's about how long it should take for the cure to synthesize, and then I snap his neck."

"You'll try," Okegawa sneered.

Yagami jerked his head towards the door. "Get him out of here. I'll deal with him in a minute."

Watsuki hauled Okegawa along until they were outside the lab. Jack stared after him the whole way until he'd disappeared from view; a look that was eerily similar to a lion watching someone drag an injured wildebeest right out of its claws.

He nearly flinched when Minako reached up towards his face, tilting his head. "Are you hurt badly?"

Jack touched his temple. No blood, though he could feel a bump rising near his hairline. "No. Always been hard-headed."

"You don't say," Yagami muttered. "Now you said something about the solution synthesizing in about half an hour?"

"Yeah. I've got it going on the centrifuge. Since your tests showed that Pete doesn't have a tumor, it's most viable to treat the problem with an injection. We can't operate on her until we find a way to anesthetize her. What I need from you is a better way to restrain her. Why are the chains so loose?"

"We had to cobble something together at the last second. They were made for something larger than her. Besides, the chains are to keep her from scratching a hole in the glass, not to hinder all her movements."

"Well, if her growth keeps accelerating, that's going to be harmful rather than helpful. Do better."

"I'll see what I can do." Yagami left the lab.

"Minako-san, I need you to check my math here on the solution and see if you can figure out a dosage. You've been working with Pete for a while, so I'm sure you know her current metabolic rate better than I do. I'll finish my notes and then triple-check them before we risk a first trial."

" _Hai_. However," she pointed towards his arm. "Take care of that before you start."

Jack glanced down to see a splotch of bright red spreading through his shirt sleeve. "Damn. Stitches popped loose during the fight. I'll be back."

He went down the hall to a supply closet, grabbed a First Aid kit, and went into the bathroom. He cleaned up and re-wrapped the wound as best as he could. It wasn't nearly as neat and precise as Kamala would have done it, but it would keep him from bleeding to death.

Jack washed and dried his hands, then scooped up the kit before getting ready to head back to the lab. On the way to the door, he heard muffled voices and paused as he realized he recognized them. He glanced up at the ceiling to see a vent sticking out of the wall. Next door was a small conference room, and he could hear the occasional grunt of pain from Okegawa, which led him to believe Yagami was patching him up. Anger welled up in his chest again, but he stifled it and flipped the lock on the bathroom door. He eased next to the wall and closed his eyes, opening his senses fully to concentrate on the conversation. He wouldn't be able to catch every last word and translate it properly, but odds are, he could get a general idea of what the two of them were talking about. Considering he didn't know what they planned to do to him after he cured Pete, he figured it wouldn't hurt to eavesdrop.

"I told you not to come here," Yagami spat, ripping open the cupboard behind him and bringing down gauze and medical tape. "What part of that didn't you understand?"

Okegawa sat on the table with a washcloth pressed to his nose, absorbing the blood. The shiny tile floor beneath him was spotted bright red already and he stared at the drops, scowling through the pain. "You're not my keeper. And I was the one who arranged for Jackson to get into your custody, so maybe you shouldn't be so quick to berate me."

"Why shouldn't I? I've been busy enough cleaning up your goddamn mess," Yagami said, slamming the medical supplies on the table next to him. Okegawa dropped his hand and Yagami flicked on a small penlight, tilting his head upward to examine the damage. "Offhand, it looks like a Type 1 fracture of the cartilage, not the bone. Once the swelling is down, we'll do a CT scan to confirm it. For now, I'll pack it. Hold still. It's going to hurt."

"I can take it," Okegawa grunted. "And once you're done here, I will kill him."

"Shut up," Yagami growled, tearing the gauze into strips. "You're not going to kill anyone else, not after that fiasco in Cambridge with the police detective. You should be behind bars right now, you and your cronies."

"Why? Because I did what was necessary?"

"Necessary for what? What do the yakuza know about the importance of that dragon to this world? All they'll do is exploit it. You should know better, _otōto_. They're leading you by the nose and trying to manipulate you into throwing your life away."

"It's not like that. You don't know what we can create with that dragon, _aniki_. It's unlike anything we've ever dreamed of."

"And what's that? Some kind of mutant that you'll throw in a cage somewhere to siphon off money from tourists?"

"No. We found her. We found Baba Yaga."

Yagami froze. He lowered his hands from the _shateigashira's_ swollen nose. "What?"

"We found an intact DNA sample, the first one ever. If we examine the dragon and the research Jackson used to make her, we can bring her back. We can start a dragon sanctuary that will make the drug trade look like street peddlers. Can you imagine it? We would have the money to put the Inagawa dogs in their place and no longer worry about extortion and protection money. The Yamaguchi could reclaim its glory from the days of the dragon hunters."

"And you think the Americans will just forgive you for what you've done after this happens? You're branded for life, Kazu. If they ever get their hands on you, you'll never see the light of day again. You're telling me that Baba Yaga is worth that to you?"

"She was the most powerful dragon in history. She is to dragons what the Tyrannosaurus Rex is to dinosaurs. If we brought her back, it would change everything. The money would flow through the streets and fill every corner. You know where I came from, _aniki_. I've seen the slums, the abuse, the drugs, the perpetual poverty that no one talks about because they want the rest of the world to believe Tokyo is a metropolis. We have a chance to make what I do create a better life for our people."

Okegawa laid a hand on Yagami's shoulder, his voice slightly softer. "And I want you to be a part of that, _aniki_. Please. You deserve better than what you have. Your father will be gone by the year's end and Keiko has already rejected you. I want to give you a chance the way you gave me a chance all those years ago. I need you to trust me."

Yagami searched his friend's gaze for a long moment. "I do trust you, Kazu. I always have and I always will."

He finished packing his nose and taping over it. "But you are not the _oyabun_. There is no guarantee that your good intentions will come to fruition. The men you work for want power for themselves. They don't want to spread the wealth. They don't want to preserve and study these creatures. I would be no better than them if I allowed the dragon to fall into their hands. I'm sorry, but I can't help you any longer."

Yagami took off his rubber gloves and tossed them in a nearby wastebasket, heading for the door. Okegawa sighed and shook his head. "So am I."

Yagami almost reached the door, but then Watsuki burst through it with a .45 Smith & Wesson, aiming it at Okegawa's head. He marched right over to him and pressed the barrel between the _shateigashira's_ brows, shaking with anger.

"Call them off!" Watsuki roared.

"What the hell?" Yagami sputtered, glancing between the two of them. "Watsuki, what's gotten into you?"

"Sir, your friend has the building surrounded. His men are armed. They've already killed two guards and they're heading this way."

Yagami paled, switching his gaze to Okegawa, who sat stock still with a blank expression. "Kazu?"

"I told you," he said softly. "I told you I would do what was necessary."

Watsuki jabbed him in the forehead with the gun. "Call them off or I will blow you away."

"Blow me away and you all die." He lifted his gaze. "Drop the gun. It's your only chance at getting out of here alive."

Watsuki gritted his teeth, realizing he was right. "Yagami-san, please gather Minako-san and head for the nearest exit. I will secure the perimeter."

"Kazu, it doesn't have to come to this," Yagami said, ignoring him. "It won't end here, even if you take the dragon out of our custody. You know she'll come for you. They'll all come for you, and you won't be able to stop it."

"So be it, _aniki_. I made my choice. Now you must make yours."

Yagami shut his eyes for an instant. "I'm so disappointed in you, Kazu."

He nodded towards Watsuki. The big man swung the gun and hit Okegawa in the temple with the barrel, knocking him out cold. After he slumped over, Yagami removed his glasses and lab coat, his voice hard as steel. "Get Minako somewhere safe. I'll go after Rhett."

"Yagami-san, the American is not worth it—"

"The American is the only one who can save Pete. If they take her, she'll die and all of this will have been for nothing. I still need him. Now go."

"Yes, sir." Watsuki opened the door, checking both ends of the hallway, and then hurried towards the lab. Yagami followed suit and locked the door on his way out, only to bump into Jack as he ambled out of the bathroom.

"So," Jack said. "This just went tits up."

Yagami stared. "How did you—"

"Long story. Air vent. Eavesdropped. I used my pocket translation dictionary for half of your conversation. Where are we heading?"

"We need to move the dragon. Even if I call in the cavalry, it won't arrive in time and the yakuza will spill as much blood as they need to get to her."

"Uh, how the hell do you expect we're going to move her? She's the size of a goddamn horse and she hates everyone here but me."

"Same way you'd move a nervous horse. Blindfold her and lead her."

"Great. Lead her where? Watsuki said they've got the place surrounded."

"There's a tunnel that connects through the mountain at the south exit. It was used to transport the construction materials when this place was built and it's abandoned. I doubt his men are privy to that information. Get the dragon through the tunnel to the outside and I'll have a ride waiting for us."

Jack narrowed his eyes at him. "And what happens to me after that?"

"Move now. Questions later."

"God, I hate you." Both men ran down the hallway to the elevator. Yagami made a brief call to organize their ride as they stopped in the lab to grab the cure. Jack capped the three vials, wrapped them in a small towel for insulation, and stuffed them in his coat pocket.

"You armed?" Jack asked as they eased their way over to the door.

"Do I look like I am?"

Jack rolled his eyes. "Can you fight?"

"I'm marginally able to hold my own, yes."

"Well, unless you can pull a couple bulletproof vests out of your ass, then we're at a serious disadvantage. If they're in the elevator already, we're screwed. The stairs don't go down to that floor. It's the only way to Pete."

Yagami poked his head out of the door, checking the hallway. "We have maybe four or five minutes before they reach us. Use your brain, Rhett. Improvise."

Jack sighed and hurried over to the chemical supplies freezer. "Guess it's a good thing I have a Googling problem."

"What?"

"You're telling me you never Googled how to make homemade bombs out of common household chemicals?"

"No."

Jack snorted, handing him a few bottles. "Live a little, man. Get me some flasks, will ya?"

Yagami gathered seven flasks and watched as Jack began removing the caps from different containers and pouring various liquids into them. He read the labels and caught onto what the scientist was getting at; nitric acid, sulfuric acid, triflic acid. Last, he took a couple of long-necked flasks and filled them with pure alcohol, and then ripped off a strip of his lab coat to make wicks for crude Molotov cocktails.

"Gimme your lighter," Jack ordered.

"I'd rather you didn't burn my R&D facility to the ground while we escape."

Jack shot him a glare. "Do you want to chastise me or do you want to survive?"

Yagami fumed, but handed him the lighter nonetheless. "That's what I thought. Now make two more of these and let's haul our asses to the elevator."

They gathered the homemade grenades into a plastic bin and checked the hallway one last time, finding it was still clear. Jack tucked the bin beneath his arm, wincing as he felt the wound twinge sharply, and hustled towards the elevator. When they got to it, the overhead light was already clicking down.

"Shit," Jack growled. "Looks like we're going to find out what we're made of. Aim high."

He grabbed the nearest flask and flattened himself against the wall adjacent to the doors. Yagami did the same and they stood perfectly still, their breath shallow, as the numbers clicked to their level.

The elevator dinged.

The doors swooshed open.

Silence.

Jack met Yagami's gaze and mouthed, "On three."

Yagami nodded. Jack counted, and then they both whipped around the entrance, arms cocked back to throw the flasks.

"Wait!" Kamala cried, grabbing Fujioka's shoulder. "It's them!"

Fujioka lowered her assault rifle. Silence fell again.

"Holy shit," Jack said, lowering his arm. "Kam?"

"Jack!" She threw herself at him, wrapping her arms around his neck. He didn't move. He couldn't. It was her. She'd come to rescue him. They'd both come to rescue him.

"You stupid, useless, infuriating, stubborn _pagal_ ," she whispered into his neck. "I'm so glad you're alright."

Jack clumsily put the acid flask into the bin, lowered it, and enveloped her in his arms, closing his eyes as the scent of daffodil perfume washed over him, as did the warmth from her body. She was here. _Here._

"Glad you're okay too," he murmured into her dark hair. "Sorry I tried to throw acid in your face."

A weak laugh vibrated between the two of them. He tilted his head and kissed her cheek, then lowered her to the floor. She offered him a watery smile. "How's your arm?"

"I'm still on painkillers. Doesn't hurt unless I try to carry something."

"Good. Are the stitches intact?"

"Not exactly. There was an, ah, altercation a little while ago."

"Did you wrap it?"

He rolled his eyes. "Yes ma'am."

"Good boy."

"You should talk," Jack said, lifting her bandaged hand. "What's this all about?"

She tried not to wince. "A long story for another time." Kamala then faced Yagami.

"How did you two—"

Kamala laid him out with a right cross. He hit the floor on his back, clutching his mouth. The small scientist stood over him, her voice boiling over with fury. "That is for Detective Stubbs. And believe me, you deserve worse, you spineless, lying scumbag."

She straightened her jacket and turned her back on him, facing Jack, who was beaming. "What?"

"I was hoping you'd do that. Atta girl."

"Never you mind. We have to get out of here. They're right on our heels."

"Agreed," Fujioka said, one hand shouldering the M16, the other holding the doors open. "We got here through the rear entrance, and just barely beat them to the elevator. If they get wise to us, it'll be a hell of a fight on the way out."

"You don't know the half of it," Jack sighed. "We're taking Pete out of here."

"Why is that a problem?" Kamala asked.

Jack beckoned her as he stepped inside the elevator. "You'll see."

He poked his head out a moment later and scowled at Yagami, who sat on the floor nursing his face and blinking the stars out of his eyes. "Come on, shitbird. We haven't got all day."

~*~

"Jack," Kamala whispered hoarsely, pressing her hand to the glass as she stared in wonder at her dragon. Pete sidled up to the air holes cut into the glass and inhaled cautiously. Once more, humming filled the air. "She's... she's..."

"Yeah," he said, smiling warmly. "I know."

"How is this possible? Our calculations weren't even close."

"We'll discuss that when we're safe. We're gonna lead her out of here." He shed the lab coat and ripped a long, wide strip from it, motioning for them to stand back. Yagami opened the door with the keypad and Jack slipped inside.

"Hey, girl," he said, standing still as she gave him another sniff from head to toe. "We've got to move you. Think you can handle that without freaking out on me again?"

"She freaked out on you?" Kamala demanded.

"No big deal," Jack said, petting the dragon's long neck. "I handled it. It was very impressive and manly. You'd have been proud."

Kamala palmed her face and muttered things to herself in Hindi.

"We didn't have enough time to find better fitting restraints," Yagami said. "You'll have to be the alpha in this situation. If she asserts herself, there's no way to control her."

"I grew up on a farm," Jack said, unraveling the cloth from around his palm. "I know how to herd an unstable animal." He held the dragon's head level with his own. "You're in danger. I have to get you out of here to keep you safe. Follow my lead, alright?"

The dragon blinked slowly. Jack held his breath and started to wrap the cloth over her head. She hissed at first, wriggling in his grip.

"Hey," he said sharply. "Stay still."

The dragon let out a rolling growl, her long claws clicking on the concrete as she kneaded her feet nervously. She sat back on her haunches with a snort and Jack kept going, covering her eyes. He tied a knot at the base of her jaw and took the lead chain around her neck. He nodded to Yagami, who punched in an entirely new code this time.

The entire glass panel shuddered and then slowly retracted into the left wall. Everyone took a step back as Jack led the dragon onto the floor. She shook herself rather hard and scales floated loose like snowflakes around them. Kamala nibbled her bottom lip and then reached out a hand, feeling the warmth from Pete's scaly body for the first time in days. The dragon tilted its head towards her and flicked out her tongue, her nostrils flaring.

"Everything's going to be alright, _mera doost_ ," she whispered, smiling. "We'll get you home."

The dragon leaned into her hand and then straightened up, facing forward.

"Do you have the key to her restraints?" Jack asked.

Yagami eyed him. "Yes. Why?"

"What do you mean 'why'? She needs to be free enough to run if the situation calls for it."

"She's still erratic. Letting her loose would be the same as using this woman's M16 on ourselves."

"Well then, worst case scenario is Pete avenges us by snacking on some of the goons after she's done with us."

"It's suicide and you have no right to demand—"

Fujioka lowered the barrel of her M16 until it was level with his right eye. "Give him the key or I'll give that brilliant mind of yours a few more dimples."

Yagami clenched his jaw. Then he reached into his pocket and held out the single long key on a ring. Jack swiped it and set about undoing the dragon's chains while Fujioka moved her gun away.

"The elevator is the only access point from the upper floors, but even if we shut them down, they can climb down the elevator shaft and pry the doors open," Yagami said, walking briskly to the front of the group. "The maintenance tunnels are on the southern wing."

He glanced at Fujioka. "Were you followed?"

"I took some of them out, but I'm sure there were others. That's not the problem. The Inagawa-kai are here."

Yagami paled. "How on earth—?"

"Your buddy Okegawa's got a mole, apparently. They're gonna light this place up. I assume your people know to evacuate without the fire alarm?"

"Yes. Watsuki is my head of security. He issued the order not long ago."

"Good, then there should be minimal collateral damage. I'll stay up front with you since you know the way. Dr. Anjali, you and Jack keep the dragon between you and watch your six. They'll likely try to ambush us or split us up to make it easier to secure the dragon."

Kamala nodded and checked the chambers of her pistol. Fujioka pulled the backup revolver from her ankle and handed it to Jack.

Yagami cleared his throat. "Doesn't it make more sense to give me the gun, seeing as your hands are full?"

"You kidnapped me and stole my dragon. It's either acid bombs or nothing, and you're damned lucky to be getting those to begin with."

He heaved a sigh and tucked the plastic container beneath his arm. "What about the authorities? I am certain my people would have called them after the two guards were shot."

"It's doubtful they'll be able to get anyone out here before either of the yakuza clan closes in on us," Kamala replied. "Our best bet for now is to run. If we survive, we can sort everything else out."

"Everyone ready?" Jack asked.

They nodded. Jack paused. "Should we all put our hands in the center like the Mighty Ducks?"

Fujioka rolled her eyes. "Don't make me shoot you."

"Yeah, that would make you a pretty terrible bodyguard. Current gunshot wound notwithstanding. By the way, does that get subtracted out of my invoice?"

" _Jack._ "

"Right. Let's go kick some yakuza ass."

# CHAPTER FOURTEEN

LIGHT 'EM UP

By the time they reached the double doors leading into the south wing, the fire alarm blared angrily overhead and white lights flashed every few seconds around each corner. Fujioka flattened herself against the wall, the assault rifle tucked tightly to her shoulder, its barrel pointed at the ceiling as she eased over to the small window. A moment later, she held up three fingers. The others nodded and got into position: Yagami gripping one of the Molotov cocktails, Jack and Kamala holding their weapons at the ready with Pete between them at the end of the hallway.

Fujioka held her breath for a moment and then kicked the right door open.

Immediately, she sank onto her knees and opened fire on the three men closing in. Two of them cried out and hit the floor. The third knelt and returned fire, forcing her to take cover as the door swunginward. Bullets bit into the metal, punching silver divots into the thick steel. Fujioka glanced at Yagami and pointed to the vials in the container. Yagami motioned for Jack to toss him the lighter and then lit the wick, watching for Fujioka's signal.

As soon as the gunshots paused, Fujioka pointed to him. He shoved the left door open and hurled the Molotov at the man. The bottle burst as it hit him in the midsection and he went up in flames, howling in panic. He threw himself to the ground and rolled back and forth, giving them just enough time to retaliate. Fujioka shot him dead and held up her fist for them to hang back, checking to see if anyone came running after hearing the firefight. No one did, so she motioned for them to move forward. She stooped and dug an earpiece from one of the deceased and put it in as she went.

Behind them, Pete dug her claws into the linoleum, her head whipping side to side as she tried to shake the blindfold loose. Kamala laid one hand on her neck and shushed her with a soothing tone. The dragon shook out her wings and hissed, but stepped forward as Jack tugged at the leash around her neck.

The hallway was long and had four doors: two labs and two supply closets, all with the same key pads and palm-print readers. Fujioka stayed to the right with her eye in the scope of the M16, her feet nearly silent as she crept forward to the corner. The hallway split with a sign pointing to the underground parking garage, maintenance area, and control room; the other pointing to the restrooms and break room.

Fujioka motioned that she would scout ahead, around the corner, while Yagami should stay put to make sure no one approached from the other end of the hall. He nodded and knelt, readying an acid flask just in case. Jack kept Pete near the double doors while Kamala served as the lookout, ensuring no one crept up on them from behind.

Heavy footsteps. Just one set. Yagami tensed and licked sweat from his upper lip, staying perfectly still with his back to the wall. Closer. He held on tight to the neck of the flask, his breath light and shallow.

A tall, thin man walked around the corner, the barrel of a .9mm Sig Sauer floating past Yagami's head just before he reared up and threw the flask. The thug shrieked as the glass burst and the acid splashed over his face, blinding him. He clawed at the burns and shot blindly at Yagami, who threw himself flat on the floor. The gun barked four or five times as the man flailed wildly, screaming in agony. A second later, the front of his forehead exploded in a cloud of red mist and he fell forward, dead.

Behind him, Fujioka stood to full height and checked the corpse to be sure she'd gotten a clean headshot before glancing at the shaking, prone form of Yagami. " _Daijobu ka?_ "

Yagami pushed up on all fours, his arms trembling, eyes wide as he stared dumbly at the dead man only inches away. "I just melted a man's face off. No, I'm not alright."

"You'll live. We've got trouble up ahead."

"What's it look like?" Jack asked.

"These four were scouts," she said, tapping at the ear piece. "There's a cluster of them waiting for us in the old maintenance tunnel. They're hoping to overwhelm us."

"Okegawa's men or the Inagawa?" Jack asked.

Fujioka lifted an eyebrow. "Like it matters at this point."

"It might," Yagami said, pushing to his feet. "Kazu's men know they can't just kill us all. They need at least one of us alive to get the rest of the information about the dragon."

"What about Minako-san?" Jack asked.

"She's clear. Watsuki texted me a couple minutes ago that she's safely off the premises."

"Lucky her," Jack snorted. "How the hell are we supposed to know Okegawa's men from the Inagawa's?"

Yagami shrugged. "See who shoots at you first."

"Hardy-har."

"We might have a window of opportunity," Kamala said, still poised at the double doors behind them. "Someone's coming down the hallway. What will the two groups do if they meet each other instead of us?"

Fujioka paused. "Odds are they have orders to take each other out. If we can corral them into the same place, that'll reduce their numbers." She glanced at Yagami. "Do you know anything about the power grid in this place?"

"Not really, but I know where the control room is."

"New plan. Shut off the lights in the maintenance tunnel. If we lure them in there and then cut the lights, we might be able to slip away in the confusion. Give me your phone."

He tossed it to her. She hit a few keys and then gave it back. "I'll text you when we're ready. Get moving as fast as you can. If you don't meet us outside the tunnel in ten minutes, we're going without you. Got it?"

"Understood." Yagami disappeared around the corner.

"How close are they, Dr. Anjali?" Fujioka asked.

"End of the hallway."

"How many?"

"Eight."

She cursed under her breath. "We don't have enough cover to take them on here. We're going to have to split up. Go through this hallway and turn right. At the end of the hall is a gated elevator that goes down to the sub-level. Wait until I give the signal and send the elevator down, but don't get on it. The men from behind will think you've gone down and they'll get on the next one. Once they bump into the rival gang, they'll start shooting up the joint and we'll slip out once the carnage is over."

"Wait, where are we supposed to hide while we're duping the gangs?"

"There's a boiler room near the elevator. One of you will stay with the dragon while the other one operates the lift. I warn you, it's unfortunately a tight fit."

Jack eyed her. "How tight?"

"Let's just say you'll get to know each other very well."

Jack sighed. "This just keeps getting better and better. What about you?"

Fujioka grinned. "Don't worry about me, big boy. This is the fun part. Get moving. I'll find you after I'm done picking off some of the riff-raff."

Jack nodded and handed Pete's lead to Kamala, who ushered the dragon towards the hallway. He came to Fujioka's side and peered down into her face severely.

"Don't do anything stupid while I'm gone, alright?"

"Impossible," she said in a haughty tone. "You're taking all the stupid with you."

Jack smirked. "You silver-tongued devil, you."

He kissed her cheek and squeezed her shoulder before going after Kamala.

Following Fujioka's directions led him to a long hallway with only two doors before the lift at the very end. Kamala and Pete stood in front of the one on the right, and the door was open. He immediately noticed she had a look on her face, the kind she got when they were about to be utterly and royally screwed. Once he came up behind her, he knew why.

The boiler room could have easily passed for a broom closet. The boiler itself was tucked in the far left corner. while it was clean and appeared to be well maintained, the building's designer clearly hadn't intended for more than one person at a time to be in the vicinity. Long, narrow concrete walls lined it. He guessed it was less than four feet wide and only about twelve feet long.

"Well," Jack said matter-of-factly. "This sucks."

"Understatement of the century," Kamala muttered, absently stroking her hand down the front of Pete's scaly chest. "Pete's not going to like this. It puts us in a huge bind if we need to leave quickly."

"Yeah," he sighed, scrubbing his face and feeling stubble poke at his palm. "We're going to have to back her into it. Guess it's a good thing she's blindfolded."

Kamala took a deep breath and squared her shoulders. "I sort of wish I was too."

"Not a fan of tight spaces?"

She clenched her jaw. "Not particularly. Here, help me turn her around."

Kamala took the lead and pulled the dragon forward one step at a time, until her long tail brushed the doorway. Jack placed his hand on Pete's head and helped lower it to fit, muttering encouraging words. The dragon snorted and sniffed the rust-tainted air as she began backing into the room, her massive wings scraping along its walls. Her breathing picked up and her tongue flicked out as she tried to regain her bearings, letting out a low hiss as her spiny tail brushed the wall behind her.

Kamala eased her way in next and Jack brought up the rear, closing the windowless door behind them. "Got a pretty good look at the lift," Jack said. "Shouldn't be too hard to operate. We'll keep the door cracked right when Fujioka gives us the signal. If it doesn't work, I'll lure them away and you take Pete down to the tunnel."

Kamala frowned. "Why you?"

"I thought we established the fact that I'm the expendable one."

"I didn't spend all that time trying to rescue you just to let you get yourself killed now. If things fall apart, we will face them together."

He glanced nervously at the door. "Better one of us than neither, if you ask me."

She caught his chin and turned his face towards her, peering up at him. He swallowed and held still, his brow wrinkling in confusion. "What?"

"Something is different," she said firmly. "You've never had a death wish before. What aren't you telling me, Jack?"

"Nothing's different, Kam. We don't have a choice."

"Yes, we do. We're in this together. Or at least we were before they kidnapped you."

Jack winced. Kamala narrowed her eyes. "What happened when they took you from Fujioka's apartment?"

He shrugged and edged himself to the door, cracking it open and checking the hallway through a thin shaft of light. "Just your standard 'do what we tell you and we won't harm your friends' threat."

Kamala stilled. "You gave yourself up?"

"Again, didn't have much of a choice. He was going to shoot Fujioka."

"You traded yourself for us."

"It seemed reasonable at the time."

"You had no idea if they would execute you and you still let them take you?"

He looked at her then, his own brown eyes hard. "What would you have done differently, Kamala? Would you have let them shoot me? Would you have let them shoot Fujioka?"

"I..." She shut her eyes for a moment. "I'm not saying I wouldn't have done the same, but you're not acting like yourself, Jack. There is some kind of disconnect between us."

He didn't say anything. Kamala stroked Pete's long snout for a bit, playing over the last several minutes in her mind carefully. "Yagami said something to you, didn't he? Something that made you think we won't both make it out of this."

Jack rubbed his sinuses. "Kam, please. Not now."

"Yes, now," she snapped. "You owe me that much. I won't have you throwing yourself on a grenade for me. You're my best friend, Jack. I can't do this—any of this—without you."

"Yes, you can," he whispered.

She fell silent for a few paralyzing seconds. "What did you say?"

"You're stronger than me, Kam," he said, staring at the floor. "A hell of a lot stronger, in fact. If something happened to you, I'd... I don't think I'd ever recover from it. But you've been taught to deal with tragedy, with the unexpected, with high-pressure situations, without crumbling. It would hurt, but you'd carry on. Me?" He chuckled bitterly. "I'd probably go on a revenge-oriented killing spree until the cops sniped me from a building somewhere."

"I don't believe that."

Jack shook his head. "I tried to kill Okegawa when I saw him earlier. Only broke his nose before they separated us, but I was about a second away from strangling him. Didn't care about the consequences either. I just went blank. Who knows how much more trouble I'll get into at this rate."

"And you think I'm some kind of virtuous holy figure instead?" Kamala demanded. "You think I've never done anything crazy or reckless or dangerous before?"

"Of course not. I just..." He swallowed past the lump in his throat and licked his dry lips before continuing. "...think maybe we should rethink this partnership."

Kamala stared at him. "Are you trying to break up with me after I just saved your life?"

Jack thought about it. "...if I say yes, are you going to shoot me?"

"Quite possibly, yes."

"Well then, no, I'm not."

She pressed her palm to her forehead, her fingers curling into her dark hair. "I swear, you are the most aggravating man I've ever bloody met."

"Yeah, I get that a lot."

"I don't know why or how you've come to the conclusion that I can get along fine without you, but you're mental if you think that's the case. Yes, you are irrational and hot-headed. Yes, I might be able to still function if I lost you, but that doesn't mean I will ever get over it. I risked everything to find you, Jack." She crossed the room and touched his cheek, lowering her voice. "And I'd do it again in a heartbeat. Because you're worth all the headaches in the world to me."

He sighed softly and rested his forehead against hers. "I don't deserve that."

"Too bad," she said, smiling faintly. "You can't get rid of me so easily." She kissed his forehead. He savored the brief warmth of that small point of contact, hoping it wouldn't be the last time he got to feel it.

"Kam, I—"

A loud buzzing filled the room. She pulled back and withdrew her cell phone from her pocket, her mouth forming a grim line. "It's Fujioka. They're coming."

Jack rose to full height, took a deep steadying breath, and slipped out of the boiler room.

The gangly scientist licked his dry lips and thumbed back the hammer on the pistol, just in case, and crept down the open end of the hallway. He stopped and shut his eyes, concentrating on the sound of footfalls. Gradually, he heard the faint squeaks of the yakuza's sneakers on the linoleum and darted back to the lift. He yanked the large gate down and secured it, then smashed the down button. A sharp hiss escaped the elevator and he dashed back into the boiler room as it began to lower itself to the sub-level.

He and Kamala held their guns up, breathing lightly as they could hear the yakuza on the other side of the door. Shadows danced beneath the door. Male voices, excited with the prospect of violence, jabbered back and forth. They were arguing whether the elevator could be stopped or if they had to wait for it to reach the bottom floor.

Then the handle to the boiler room door jiggled.

Jack swallowed hard, keeping absolutely still. Beside them, Pete's head lowered and her nostrils flared. She flicked her tongue out once, twice, and crept forward, her jaws creaking open to let a low angry hiss slither out. Kamala intercepted the dragon before she could get any closer to the door, stroking the reptile's snout and whispering to her.

The door handle jiggled harder, and Jack overheard one of them asking what room this was. He took a slow breath and aimed the barrel of the pistol at what he estimated to be eye level, cold sweat slipping down the nape of his neck as he waited.

A sudden groan of metal and clanking gears filled the air. The elevator had returned. Hurried footsteps followed and then the cacophony of mechanical clicks and whirls went off a second time. They'd gotten on the lift.

Jack let out a whoosh of air and motioned to Kamala. "Tell Fujioka they're on their way down."

She sent a quick text and Fujioka immediately replied. "Be ready to move, she says. Can you check if the coast is clear?" Kamala asked as Pete nudged her forward a few inches, clearly growing restless in the small space.

"Gotcha." Jack unlocked the door and cracked it. After a moment, he stuck his head out and checked both ends of the hall. "Clear. Bring her out. I'll keep an eye on the elevator in case they try to come back up once shit hits the fan."

As if on cue, the muted but still thunderous echo of gunshots on the floor below them floated up through the empty elevator shaft. Jack reflexively took a step back and glanced into the abyss as he heard several panicked cries of pain.

"Sounds like the shit has indeed hit the fan."

Kamala led the dragon out of the boiler room. Pete shook herself and even more dead scales flaked loose.

"Should I be worried?" Kamala said, brushing grey patches of dead skin from her shoulders.

"Uh," Jack said, picking a few of them out of her hair. "Comparatively? No. It's Item Three on our current To Do list."

"Items One and Two being...?"

Jack held up a finger. "Don't die."

"Obviously."

Jack held up a second finger. "Escape the compound in one piece. Then we can work on curing her."

"Curing her of what?"

Jack told her. She shook her head in amazement. "Gods, as if we didn't have enough problems."

"Yeah, I'll need your help to determine the dosage. If we don't get it right, she'll be damn near the size of Baba Yaga before the end."

"What solutions did you use?"

He started to reply, but then noticed something in his peripheral at the end of the hall.

Without a second thought, he stepped in front of Kamala and lifted the pistol, aiming at the head of a stout thirty-something man in a plain black suit and tie.

" _Watsuki?_ " Jack sputtered, his eyes wide.

The head of security lowered his gun, still wearing that same grim frown. " _Hai._ "

"Christ, man. Announce yourself. I almost shot you."

"Noted," he said, unfazed. "Where is Yagami-san?"

"He went to shut off the power grid for the tunnel. He's supposed to meet us in a couple of minutes. What the hell are you still doing here? I thought you were taking care of Minako."

"She's safe."

"You came back for Yagami? Why?"

"I don't leave people behind. Period. Stay here. I'll go get him." Without another word, the big man disappeared in the direction of the maintenance wing.

Jack stared after him in disbelief. "Someone's actually risking their life to save Yagami Sugimoto. Somewhere, right now, Satan's handing out snow cones and practicing his Axel jump."

Metal groaned behind them. The lift had started coming back up.

"Shit!" Jack hissed, raising his gun again. "Kam, head for the hall. I'll cover you."

She led the dragon further away just as the top of the elevator lurched into view.

And it was full of bodies.

Jack unhooked the gate, pushing it up, and felt his mouth get dry at the grisly sight. Three men lay on its metal floor, bleeding out from gunshot wounds, their own guns forgotten in their hands. He checked their pulses one by one and then gave Kamala a brief shake of his head, and she guided Pete back to the lift. He pocketed Fujioka's pistol and rounded up their weapons: two .44 ACPs and a .38 semiautomatic. He gave Kamala the .38 and counted the ammo before stashing the remaining guns in the back of his waistband.

He dragged the corpses out into the hallway—careful to keep them away from Pete, just in case—and had just finished when Watsuki, Yagami, and Fujioka arrived.

"Well," Fujioka said, glancing at the bodies. "Looks like the plan is working."

"Hey," Jack protested. "Jinx much?"

She rolled her eyes. "Knock on wood."

"Thank you." He glanced at Yagami. "I take it we're good to go."

Yagami nodded. "Once we go down, head straight through and turn right onto the path. Keep going until you see the street. Our ride should already be there."

Kamala arched an eyebrow. "Should be? And if he's not?"

"We'll have to go by foot."

"Yes, because we'll get awfully far toting a dragon the size of a horse."

Yagami pinched the bridge of his nose. "Must you constantly criticize?"

Kamala offered him a mean little smile. "It keeps me from breaking your nose."

"Children," Fujioka said mildly. "We must be going. Everyone can't fit on the lift with the dragon, so Yagami-san, Watsuki-san, and I will go down first to pave the way and you two follow." She narrowed her eyes at the pair. "If worse comes to worst, don't be heroes. We're all adults here. We made the choices that led us to this point, for better or worse. Don't jeopardize everything you've sacrificed to bring this dragon to life by trying to be a martyr. You know what to do if we get separated. Good luck."

Kamala's grip tightened on Pete's lead as she nodded to the older woman. "Good luck."

Fujioka stepped into the blood-soaked elevator and the two Japanese men followed. Jack swallowed hard and went over to the controls. After a moment, he withdrew one of the .44 ACPs and offered it to Fujioka. "Good luck."

She winked and tucked it in her hip holster. "You shouldn't have."

He shut the gate and pressed the down button. The elevator wheezed to life and the three of them vanished into the chaos below.

Jack faced Kamala. "You ready?"

She nodded. "Absolutely not."

He tried to smile and held out his hand. "Ditto."

She took it without hesitation. Apart, their hands had been cold and clammy, but together they warmed in mere seconds.

A minute later, the lift returned. They stepped into the elevator and carefully guided Pete onto it as well. Jack pulled down the gate and hit the down button, quietly flicking the safety off the ACP. The elevator rumbled to life once more and lowered them down into the damp darkness of the maintenance tunnel. Jack's breathing got shallow and swift. Kamala's fingers tightened around his. The dragon's nostrils flared as she inhaled the scent of blood, death, and violence wafting up, her body tensing and shifting in anticipation of a fight.

For a second, there was only darkness.

Jack squeezed Kamala's hand one last time and then let go.

The elevator screeched to a halt on the sub-level. Bare, decaying concrete surrounded them, stretching to about a forty-five-foot curved ceiling. Covered lights dotted the length of the ceiling, greying with age. The only source of light came from the end of the tunnel, at least sixty yards straight ahead. It left everything in thick shadows with limited visibility, which had been to their advantage for panicking both sides into a frenzy.

Mercifully, none of the yakuza had been waiting outside the gate. From what Jack could see, only the dead littered the ground inside the tunnel. A quick study gave him the total of corpses so far: eleven, all male, some dressed in casual clothes, others in plain black suits and white dress shirts like Okegawa had been wearing.

Jack opened the gate and made sure the nearest bodies weren't moving before beckoning Kamala and Pete. "Stay behind me, but watch your back just in case."

She nodded curtly and led the dragon forward with one hand, the other holding the pistol down at her side. Pete's posture switched from defensive to inquisitive, as she kept trying to sniff the corpses they passed along the way as they headed to the tunnel. Her leathery wings flapped along her back, testing the space around her. Kamala's heart sunk as she realized the dragon hadn't ever been outside without being bound or caged.

As they neared the end of the tunnel, Jack motioned for them to stay near the right wall so they could see around the corner. He stopped about twenty feet from the mouth of the tunnel and knelt, his voice low, tilting his face but keeping an eye on the exit.

"I'll go first. If it's clear, follow me out. If it's not, I'll try and draw their fire so you can take Pete into the forest."

Kamala nodded, and the faint sunlight caught on her brilliant brown eyes as she stared at him. "Be careful."

"You too."

Jack inched forward one step at a time, trying not to let his big feet betray his presence and fighting to control his rapid borderline panicked breathing. Shots echoed from nearby, but nothing in the immediate vicinity. The tunnel spilled out into a forked dirt road; the left leading up towards the mountain, the right leading down to the main road and eventually towards the Kanagawa prefecture. Straight ahead lay a huge hill of short grass and dirt mounds, part of the base of the mountain the facility was built on.

He stayed in the shadow of the tunnel and checked his left, peering through the trees. One body lay face down in the dead leaves, his brains leaking out of his forehead in the afternoon sun. Jack swallowed hard as his stomach revolted at the sight and threatened to expel the espresso from earlier. He stepped over the body and focused on the trees, silently praying he wouldn't stumble into someone hiding behind one of them. He made a perimeter of about ten yards and then crept back towards the tunnel, this time going to the right of it.

Along the way, he passed another body, and this one had a link in his ear exactly like the one Fujioka had swiped earlier. He paused and did the same, catching snippets of orders. Most of it was panicked yelling, but he made out that the Yamaguchi had suffered more losses than expected, and the Inagawa were turning the tide in their favor. He also caught word that Fujioka, Yagami, and Watsuki were further ahead on the road toward town, mowing down both sides indiscriminately.

Just as he turned to head back to give Kamala the all-clear, he spotted a man and ducked. The gun barked twice and the tree trunk behind Jack exploded, raining pieces down on him. He swore and returned fire before throwing himself behind the nearest tree. The shots kept coming, tearing chunks of wood from the tree mere inches above his head. He edged to one side, glancing to see the man creeping forward in between shots, still using the trees for cover. Another ten feet and he'd be right on him. Everything in Jack screamed at him to run, but he beat the instinct down and forced himself to think clearly.

"Self-defense," he muttered to himself, tightening his grip on the butt of the gun. "You did it in self-defense."

Jack heard the leaves crunch about five feet away and whipped around the tree's thick roots, aiming low. He fired three times. One of the bullets shattered the thug's left kneecap and he collapsed to the forest floor, screaming his head off.

Jack pounced on the man and knocked the gun away, laying him out with a quick jab to the temple. He balanced over him on his knees, shaking all over, the adrenaline sharp and potent like tequila in his veins. He was scared out of his mind, and yet... a strange sense of satisfaction swirled in his belly.

What the hell was wrong with him?

He pushed to his feet and hurried through the woods until he reached the tunnel. Kamala had her gun level with his brow when he came around the corner, and visibly relaxed when she realized it was him.

"Coast is clear," he said. "Let's go."

"Are you alright?" she asked, standing as she started leading Pete after them. "I heard shots while you were on your way back."

"I'm okay."

She hesitated. "You didn't have to—"

"No," he said. "Well, if he gets medical attention in the next few hours, he'll survive. Just won't fulfill his lifelong dream of being a figure skater."

"Any sign of the others?"

Jack tapped at his ear. "The bad guys said they're up the road already. If we hurry, we might be able to catch up to them and make our last stand. Let's just hope Yagami's transportation makes it there in time."

"And that he doesn't double-cross us?"

"That too. Maybe you shouldn't have punched him."

She rolled her eyes. "You broke his best friend's nose. Don't throw stones in a glass house, Dr. Jackson."

"Point taken, Dr. Anjali."

They continued through the forest until the facility became swallowed by the trees and disappeared from sight. They kept the dirt path in view, making brief stops every so often to ensure no one had followed, until they reached a long, curved paved road. It formed a crescent around a ditch, one so sharply curved that it looked as if someone had used an ice cream scoop on the hill. The dirt road ended about twenty yards away and the road stretched out of sight along a steep cliff going away from the mountainside.

"Shit," Jack muttered, motioning for Kamala to stop just before they were outside of the clearing of trees where the path ended. "Someone's waiting for us down there."

"How many?"

He squinted. "Four guys. See if you can get Pete to lie down."

Kamala faced the dragon and stroked her neck, pressing down along her spiny back. The dragon resisted at first, but with more urging she settled onto her belly in the undergrowth.

Jack checked the magazine of the ACP and took a deep breath. "We've got the advantage since we're on higher ground, but it won't take long for them to notice us. I hate to say it, but we might need to split up. One person is the distraction while the other takes Pete down the road to where Fujioka and the others said they'd meet us."

He glanced at her. "So. Rock-paper-scissors?"

"I'm a better shot than you are, Jack. I'll lead them away. Stay with Pete."

"Right. Here." He offered her the gun. "Nine rounds left."

She took it and handed him Pete's lead. After a moment, he cupped the side of her face, his thumb skimming along her cheekbone, his voice soft, almost hoarse. "Give 'em hell, huh?"

She smiled, and it was as bright and fierce as the sun. "And then some."

Kamala slipped away from him and he felt the words on his lips, but the air had evaded his lungs and left him high and dry. _I love you._

Instead, he shut his eyes and steeled his nerves, withdrawing the .38 pistol and focusing on the yakuza at the bottom of the hill. The timing had to be flawless. With a short range weapon, he'd be of little use to her, and Pete was still the priority. All he had to do was stay low and run. Run, and pray that Kamala makes it out in one piece.

He clutched Pete's chain in his other hand, channeling his anxiety into the gesture to keep still. The dragon's hot breath brushed up his pants leg in steady intervals. She snuffled inquisitively at the wool over his knee and he switched his hand to rub along her bumpy snout. She leaned into it, her dark tongue tickling his wrist. He almost smiled.

"You're kind of sweet when you're not biting people's heads off," he murmured, scratching beneath her chin. He frowned. "God, famous last words. Get it together, Jackson."

He jerked upright as shots rang out near the bottom of the hill. Jack snapped his head around the tree to see one of the yakuza hit the ground, clutching his leg. Pete snarled and pushed to her clawed feet, angling her head in the direction of the noise. The other yakuza barked orders at each other and started returning fire. They ran into the woods, back in the direction of the facility.

As soon as they were out of sight, Jack grabbed the dragon's chain and tugged her forward down the hill. He stumbled and nearly fell, cursing the leather soles of his dress shoes, but they made it to the bottom. The wounded henchman gaped as he spotted them. His eyes darted towards the gun a few feet away.

"Hey!" Jack barked, pointing the pistol. "Don't even think about it."

The henchman sneered and spat at him, growling in his native language that he was a stupid American who didn't know who he was screwing with. Jack paused and then said, "Are you willing to be your life on that assumption?" in perfect Japanese.

He smirked as the man's face paled. Jack continued forward to collect the fallen weapon.

The henchman dove for the gun.

Jack let go of Pete and caught the man's wrist as he raised the gun towards him. He whipped it to one side and screamed as the gun went off mere inches from his right ear. Snarling, Jack broke the man's wrist and stomped on his shoulder socket, twisting his arm behind him at a painful angle. The henchman shrieked and released it, but by then the damage had been done.

Behind them, Pete hissed and clawed the blindfold off her face. Jack swore and let go of the man, raising his hands and walking towards her. "Hey, hey, easy. Easy, girl. It's okay."

Pete's wings stretched to full height and flapped once, twice, as she backed away from Jack, blowing great gusts of wind that kicked up dirt clods. Jack tried getting closer, keeping his voice level, but a panicked edge had crept into it. "Look at me, Pete. It's okay."

He lunged for her chain, but she leapt over his head and launched herself into the air with three powerful flaps of her wings.

"Pete!" Jack screamed, racing after her. He leapt over the fallen man and broke into a sprint as the dragon sailed over the sparse grass and disappeared over the cliff side by the road. Jack couldn't breathe. He just stared as she soared over the trees below and then turned a hard left, disappearing into the shadow of the mountain. Gone. She was gone. Just like that.

He didn't know how long he'd been standing there, the gun loose in his hand, replaying the moment his dragon flew away in his head, when he heard someone scream his name. It didn't matter, not really. His whole life had slipped from his grasp.

"Jack!" Kamala grabbed his shoulder, panting with exertion, her eyes wild. "Where's Pete?"

"Gun," he mumbled. "Guy had a gun. Spooked her. She... she flew away."

"Gods," she breathed, staring out at the countryside. "I didn't even know she could do that."

A hollow laugh rattled in Jack's lungs. "Me neither."

"We have to go, Jack." At first, he didn't budge. She gripped him harder, forcing him to face her. "Jack, we can use the tracker to find her again. Please. They're coming." Her words seem to jostle him out of the shock and he nodded shakily. She grabbed his arm and pulled him behind her as they hurried down the road.

"How many rounds do you have left?" Kamala asked.

Jack checked the pistol and then the gun he'd swiped from the henchman on the hill. "Six in the Miroku, eight in the H.K. You out?"

"Yeah."

He handed her the Heckler & Koch. "Did you get the other guys?"

"Yes, but they have reinforcements on the way. If we don't get out of here now—"

A black van coming up the road in the opposite direction swung towards them at breakneck speed. Jack grabbed Kamala around the waist and threw them both down near the guard rail. The van missed by a foot and screeched to a stop several yards away, blocking both lanes. Jack hauled Kamala to her feet and shoved her behind him, barking, "Go!" as he opened fire on the van's tires. He managed to puncture two of them seconds before the door slid back and the yakuza returned fire, punching divots into the road near his feet.

He turned tail and bolted after Kamala, flinching as he heard the bullets whizzing past him on either side. "Where the hell is Fujioka when you need her? She is so fired if we live through this."

"Up there!" Kamala shouted, pointing. He followed her finger and saw that to their right, about twelve feet above them and less than half a mile ahead, Fujioka, Watsuki, and Yagami were firing down on another black van blocking the road. They could just barely see an eighteen-wheeler behind it, which had to be their escape vehicle since it was the only thing large enough to transport Pete to safety. Four bodies littered the road. Three men with automatic rifles took cover behind the van to reload their weapons.

Jack and Kamala hid in a crevasse in the cliff wall about twenty feet from the chaos. "What do we do?" Kamala asked. "We can't get up to where they are from here. If the other men behind us catch up, it's over."

"Element of surprise is the best we've got," Jack said. "The guys next to the van haven't spotted us yet."

She stared at him. "Those are terrible odds. We'd have to hit them all at once without missing."

He winced. "True, but if we miss one and he's distracted, the others will take him out."

She exhaled slowly. "Then I guess we'd better not miss the first time."

"Yeah. Getting shot isn't fun, let me tell you. Ready?"

"Absolutely not."

"Me neither. You lead, I follow."

A faint smile touched her lips. "My dragon to the end. Let's go."

The two moved as one around the corner, took careful aim, and pulled their triggers.

The three yakuza collapsed to the pavement howling in pain; two of them got hit in the legs, the other in the arm.

"Don't move!" Jack and Kamala ordered, keeping their sights trained on the writhing men and picking up their fallen weapons as they approached.

"Well, well," Fujioka called down with a broad grin. "Here comes the cavalry. You're late."

"Better late than never," Jack replied. "Get your asses down here so we can get the hell out of—"

"Look out!" Watsuki shouted, shoving Yagami behind him. The bullet hit him high in the chest, shattering his right clavicle. He collapsed to his knees and wheezed, one large hand closing over the wound as blood ran scarlet and thick down his torso.

Fujioka didn't react in time. The shot hit her left shoulder and she fell backward, out of Jack and Kamala's line of sight.

"No!" Jack and Kamala screamed simultaneously. They whirled to see the shots had come from street level, not up high.

The seven men from the van up the road split into two groups: three giving each other a boost as they climbed on the cliff afterwhere Yagami, Fujioka, and Watsuki were, andthe others laying cover fire as they approached Jack and Kamala.

The pair took refuge behind the eighteen-wheeler, checking the guns they'd taken from the fallen yakuza.

"There aren't enough rounds," Kamala said hoarsely. "We can't take them out."

The hail of bullets fell away to a blanketing silence as Jack realized they'd reached the end of the line. The world stopped spinning. The searing pain in his right ear, the burning exhaustion in his legs, the thin air in his lungs, all fell away. All he could see was the woman in front of him, the woman he'd be spending his last moments on earth with, and suddenly the words came to him.

"I love you."

Kamala froze, her brown eyes wide. "W-What?"

"I should have told you months ago," he whispered, his own eyes wet. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, Kam." Jack raised his gun as a man came around the front of the truck and opened fire with a roar, emptying the clip into the man's chest. The yakuza crumpled to the road in a heap. Another one stepped out from behind him and raised his AR-15, his finger closing on the trigger.

And then the dragon dropped out of the sky right on top of him.

Pete slammed the man to the ground with her clawed feet and took a vicious bite out of his neck, killing him instantly. A third man jumped on top of the truck's hood and stopped dead out of pure shock, as he was now level with her. The dragon snarled and slammed her tail into his chest. It sent him cartwheeling off the edge of the road and down into the ravine beside it, screaming the whole way.

The dragon snorted once and then hurried over to Jack and Kamala, sniffing them briefly in confirmation, and then nudging them towards her large, scaly torso.

"I... I think she wants us to get on," Kamala said, dumbfounded as Pete bumped her side up against them and flapped her huge wings.

"That's impossible," Jack sputtered. "The two of us together nearly weigh three hundred pounds. She can't possibly lift—holy shitbricks!"

Impatient, the dragon slid her neck through Jack's parted legs and stood up, barking once at Kamala. She threw her leg over the dragon's back. Then Pete took three mighty steps towards the edge of the road and leapt off.

For three terrifying seconds, they dropped through the air like a cement block.

Then, Pete's leathery wings spread and they flew.

Gunfire cracked behind them, but the dragon flapped her wings to carry them higher out of harm's way. She wheeled to one side and they disappeared into the shadow of the mountain range, over the forest below.

Jack dug his fingers into the dragon's collar and finally opened his eyes. He stared speechless at the ground easily forty feet below them and into the cloudy horizon. Wind whistled past his ears, interrupted only by the powerful strokes of the dragon's wings and the raspy clink of the chain still dragging below her body as they cut through the crisp air. She flew smoothly, as if she'd been doing it all her life, as if it were an effortless skill.

Behind him, Kamala had locked her arms around his waist and buried her face between his shoulder blades when they'd first taken off. Now, she held one hand out flat, her palm parallel to the ground, feeling the wind rushing over it. Half-hysterical laughter enveloped them both as the dragon carried them higher still, until they were circling one of the mountain's peaks.

Enormous clouds piled high around the mountain and the air became sharply cold as they neared it. The trees stopped halfway up its craggy face and gave way to perpetual ice created from the height and upper atmosphere. As Pete circled for the fourth time, they realized she was searching for shelter.

On the fifth pass, the dragon brought her wings in close to her body in a dive as they reached a cliff near the mouth of a cave. She fought the stiff wind and landed hard, digging her claws into the earth. Jack helped Kamala off and the dragon shook herself and stepped forward into the cave. The two of them called to her, but she paid them no mind. The freezing temperature and high winds wouldn't make it easy to get down any time soon.

They had no choice.

So they followed the dragon into the darkness.

# CHAPTER FIFTEEN

VINDICATED

Naturally, Kamala had no cell phone reception, but her phone still worked well enough as a flashlight as they stepped deeper into the cave. She swept it around quickly to make sure no predator—aside from the enormous dragon, of course—lurked about. The cave was only about ten feet across and barely seven feet high. The large cracks on the walls and along the ground led them to believe it had been part of a landslide that the wind and rain hollowed out over time. There were a couple of abandoned birds' nests in one corner, but nothing to suggest anything had lived in it recently. For the moment, they were alive, and alone.

Pete sniffed out a spot furthest from the mouth of the cave and plopped down. She curled herself into a neat circle and rested her head on her overlapped feet. She exhaled deeply and closed her eyes to rest.

"So," Jack said quietly. "What the fuck?"

"What the fuck," Kamala agreed, nodding as she stared at the slumbering giant. "Where do we even begin? How on earth did she figure out how to fly? How did her muscles and skeletal structure support almost three hundred pounds of weight during flight? Why did she come back for us when her survival instincts told her to run the first time?"

"Yes to all of that. I'm at a loss for words here."

She sighed. "Well, we're going to be stuck here for a while until that storm passes. I guess that'll be food for thought. For now, you mentioned that we need to cure her."

"Yeah." Jack reached into his coat pocket and withdrew one of the vials, and a capped syringe, both of which he'd securely wrapped for safekeeping. "She really doesn't like needles, so let's wait until we're sure she's asleep before the injection. Otherwise, we're in as much danger as the yakuza she just snacked on."

She took the vial, examining it. "What are the contents?"

He told her. "It should work, but we'll start with a low dose and monitor her progress closely. If nothing else, the cold might help slow her metabolism."

A small shiver ran through her as she pocketed the vial, and a moment later, Jack's suit jacket enclosed around her shoulders. She glanced up at him in surprise and he smiled a bit.

"You didn't have to—"

"It's fine," he assured her. "I run hot usually."

He sat down in front of Pete and patted the dragon's side before leaning into her. She slept on, her slow, deep breaths rustling the dirt where her head lay. Kamala sat next to him and rested her head against the dragon as well, staring up into the dark.

"Do you think they're—"

"I don't know," Jack said softly. "I'm... trying not to think about it yet. You know me. I'm a worst case scenario kind of guy."

Kamala didn't say anything else. The wind kept howling. The world kept spinning. In any other circumstance, the sound of nature carrying on would soothe her, but it just made everything that much worse. She didn't try to hide the tears when they fell.

Jack didn't say anything either. He just wrapped his arm around her and leaned her head on his shoulder.

After all, what was there left to say?

~*~

Misaki Fujioka hadn't suffered a gunshot in years.

She almost forgot how much it _sucked_.

First, the searing pain of impact. Second, the horrid burning stench of perforated skin, muscles, and fluids. Third, the fact that it knocked her on her ass and left her dizzy and nauseous. Fourth, the knowledge that she could either bleed to death or lose the use of a limb if she didn't receive the right medical attention. Fifth, the overwhelming urge for revenge against the son of a bitch responsible.

Growling curses in Japanese, Fujioka rolled over and pushed up with her working arm to survey the damages they'd suffered. Watsuki lay face up, gasping through the pain of his own wound, and she could tell he was struggling to stay conscious. A broken clavicle was one of the most painful injuries a man could endure. She sympathized, but that didn't mean she'd gone soft.

"Get your big ass up," she snarled at him. "They're coming."

His dark eyes darted around, his pupils wide enough to make them look black. "Y-Yagami-san? W-Where?"

Fujioka jerked her head in the direction behind them. "He ran. Worry about yourself for now. Can you move?"

He gritted his teeth and pushed up on one hand. "Somewhat."

"Can you still shoot?"

"Too late," he grunted, staring past her shoulder.

Fujioka reached for the assault rifle, only to stop as she felt the barrel of a gun jab the nape of her neck.

"Don't move."

She glared upward to find herself surrounded by three men. They kicked her gun out of reach and demanded to know where Yagami had gone. Neither of them spoke. Sadly, they didn't have to, because a moment later, someone over their ear piece told them he'd been found.

A minute later, Yagami reappeared with his hands zip-tied behind his back, a fresh bruise puffing out over his left cheekbone. A couple of Inagawa-kai pushed him down next to Watsuki and told him not to move while they waited for their leader to arrive.

Fujioka stayed stock still and glanced obliquely down over the ledge, hoping to catch sight of Jack and Kamala. After the gunshot, she'd heard a commotion and more gunfire, but no one was moving down there. Her gut tightened into a painful knot. Had someone gotten to them both?

"So, what now?" Yagami growled at the men holding them. "Which one of your pathetic masters do you dogs heel to? Arisawa? Hakate? What inbred sociopath put you up to this?"

"That would be me."

The men parted.

And Kazuma Okegawa walked into view.

Yagami stared open-mouthed. "K-Kazu?"

Okegawa nodded slowly. " _Hai_."

Yagami shook his head. "No. That's impossible. You're Yamaguchi. You're their _shateigashira_. Everyone knows that."

"They're supposed to know that. It's the entire point of a sleeper agent."

"What the hell are you talking about?" Yagami spat.

"We will get to that in time, _aniki_. For now..." His eyes fell across the trio, and a calculating look went through them. "We only need two hostages, not three."

"Yes, sir." One of the men raised his gun towards Fujioka.

"Ah, ah," Okegawa said. "The lady and I have unfinished business."

Then he drew his own gun and shot Watsuki in the head.

The big man slumped backwards. His blood mixed with the pale dirt beneath him, turning it brownish-black. Yagami screamed in wordless anger and launched himself at Okegawa. The yakuza beside him held him back by his arms.

"I called you my brother!" Yagami snarled into Okegawa's face. "I protected you! I helped you! Where is your honor? Where is the man who saved my life?"

Okegawa studied him for a long moment. "He doesn't exist. He never did."

He snapped his fingers and turned around, heading back into the woods. "Bring them."

~*~

They made a tourniquet for Fujioka's arm as they rode down the mountain in the back of one of the black vans. She'd been forced to wear a hood and a gag, but she could still hear them passing dozens of sirens along the way. Police. Late as always, she mused to herself.

The blood loss made it hard to concentrate, but she calculated they drove for half an hour to another location before being hauled out. They hadn't returned to Tokyo. The air smelled fouler here. A farm of some sort. Somewhere isolated and out of the way, somewhere that couldn't be approached easily with plenty of lookouts.

She was indoors when they sat her down in a plain wooden chair. Two men held her down while another fished the slug out of her shoulder, sanitized the wound, and then wrapped it enough to keep her from bleeding out. She didn't struggle. No point. She knew when the enemy had the upper hand, after all. No sense in expending precious energy.

The men released her. Footsteps echoed away, until only one pair remained. The hood lifted. She blinked a few times as her eyes adjusted to the light.

She sat in the middle of a barn. No animals present, but she smelled old droppings and feed, so they hadn't been gone long. It had a low ceiling, square pens with thin metal fences separating them every several feet, and had troughs lining two of the four walls. The size of the pens and the leftover stench clued her in that it was a pig farm. The barn doors were closed. She could see through the cracks in the wood that a couple armed men stood outside to guard it.

"Does your shoulder hurt?" Okegawa asked, untying her gag.

Fujioka licked her dry lips and swallowed a few times to wet her throat enough to speak. "Does your nose?"

He narrowed his eyes at her. She smiled. He mirrored her smile a moment later. "Fair enough. Please let me know if it starts bleeding again. I have a medic on staff who can take care of it."

"Why, thank you. I'll be sure to keep you informed."

He withdrew a lighter next and tapped a cigarette out of its carton. After he lit it, Okegawa pulled up a second chair and sat down in front of her, close enough that their knees nearly touched. It wasn't a large risk. Her ankles were taped to the legs of the chair and her arms were still zip-tied.

"It actually took me quite a while to dig up your background, Fujioka-san. I'm impressed. Your reputation is outstanding. Decorated soldier. Dedicated bodyguard. Exceptional martial artist. You've excelled in pretty much everything you put your mind to." He smirked faintly. "Well, except protecting Jackson and _ojō-sama_."

Fujioka glanced around the barn. "Oh, so you found them, then?"

His smirk wilted. "Ah. I see. You have me, not them. Insult my skills if you want, but report the facts correctly, if you don't mind."

"You have a very insolent tongue," he said sourly. "Did that contribute to your leave of absence in the Special Forces?"

"Possibly. Boys never like being told the truth about themselves, after all."

"True enough." He leaned in enough to rest his forearms on his knees. "But I'm not a boy, Fujioka-san. Would you like to know why you're still alive?"

"Your men have bad aim?"

"Jackson will come for you," he said in a hushed tone. "Despite all odds, despite knowing it will get him killed, despite getting the dragon back, he will come for you."

"Bully for me. What's your point?"

"I want to know why."

"Why what?"

"Why he cares. You're more than just a bodyguard. A man doesn't risk his life for a woman unless they have a history. I want to know what's so special about you."

Fujioka laughed. "Are you kidding me? You're wasting my time because you want to know our history? What is this? Amateur hour? Where are the actual adults in this organization?"

Okegawa took a long drag on the cig. "To stop your enemy, you need to get into their head. Play their weaknesses against them. I don't want to just kill him. I want to destroy him. I want to lay waste to his entire line and salt the earth where he dies. Do you want to come between me and my revenge, knowing what it means for you?"

He stood and placed his large hands on the arms of her chair, leaning in until she could smell the smoke on his breath. "Do you want all my attention focused on you instead? Do you want to see what I did to become the man standing before you, a man who has spent the better part of a decade slitting throats on both sides of two of the most feared yakuza organizations in all of Japan?"

They met eyes. Neither budged for well over a minute.

"Listen, junior," Fujioka murmured. "You're not thinking clearly. Is it true that Jack will come for me? Yes. Is that your main concern? No. It shouldn't be."

"Oh? And why is that?"

She tilted her head so that her face aligned with his cheek, her lips right next to his ear. "Because I'm not locked in here with you. You're locked in here with _me_. So, you'd better pray that Jack gets to you before I do, because when I'm done with you, they'll have to bring in the world's best historian to convince the world that you ever fucking existed."

Okegawa drew back enough to smile at her. "I think I like you, Fujioka-san. Strong women turn me on. Maybe after we're done here, I'll make room for you in my bed."

She chuckled softly. "And maybe before I kill you, I'll skull-fuck you with that cigarette."

He laughed and stood, blowing out one last lungful of smoke. He stomped it out and called to the men outside the door, telling them to start filling the trough with water. "Don't worry, Fujioka-san. I'll make you wet for me one way or another."

~*~

"Where did you inject her last time?"

"Here," Jack said, lightly trailing his fingertips over Pete's chest. "The scales are thinner here and she didn't feel it until the needle accidentally went in at an angle."

"I see. What about her tail? There should be a large vein there, where I drew her blood during the first exam. She shouldn't have as many nerve endings there."

Jack paused. "...I _really_ wish I'd thought of that before."

She hid a smile and flipped the vial upside down, sticking the needle into the casing and withdrawing a few ounces of liquid. "No one's perfect."

Kamala traced the lighter scales on the underside of the dragon's spiny tail until she felt the reptile's pulse beating strong and slow against her fingers.

She took a deep breath. "Here goes nothing."

She stuck the needle in. Pete didn't move. She pushed the plunger down and withdrew, snapping the cap back on. "There. The hard part's over, at least."

"Yeah. I only wish we had a lollipop to give her." He smiled faintly and she returned it. Slowly, she began to notice that their eye contact felt heavier than usual, more meaningful. She shied her gaze away towards the cave's exit.

"The storm's slowing down. Do you think it's safe yet?"

"Maybe," Jack answered, pushing to his feet. "Either way, one of us has to find out if Fujioka and the others got away. We're supposed to meet her at the safe zone. Besides, now that we have Pete, we've got to contact the authorities to get her somewhere safe, and then go after Fujioka if she didn't make it out." He grimaced. "I guess technically we should tell them Yagami was with them too, but I'm not exactly concerned for his well-being right now."

"Neither am I, but it's probably the right thing to do."

Jack sighed. "Goddamn moral compass. Go bother someone else for a change."

He examined the snowfall and wind outside before coming back in. "I think I can manage it. Stay with Pete. Wait about an hour and then find a way to get the three of us home. I'll contact you when I find something."

"You don't want to take my phone with you?"

He shook his head. "You need it more than I do."

She fished inside her jacket pocket and held a different phone out. "Here. At least take Nakamura's, so you'll have something to use when you get in range of a cell tower."

He took it. "Thanks. Be safe, alright?"

Jack headed for the outside world. Kamala tried to hold her tongue, but the words slipped out before she could stop herself. They'd been dancing around it, avoiding it, for over an hour. She couldn't stand it any longer.

"Did you mean it?"

"Yeah, don't worry. I'll be alright, I promise—"

"No," Kamala whispered. "What you said back there. Are you in love with me?"

Jack stopped dead.

The wind howled and whistled outside the cave. He hadn't been cold out there, but now it felt like his bones had been flash-frozen. His heart repeatedly rammed into his ribs as if it wanted to escape so it wouldn't have to deal with the conversation.

Jack licked his lips and turned slowly. "Kam... this really isn't the time for that."

"Timing?" she said, narrowing her eyes and crossing her arms. "You want to talk about timing, after you blurted it out when you thought we were going to die?"

Jack winced. "I'm sorry. I didn't know what I was saying and—"

"Don't lie to me, Jack," she spat, her voice echoing heat through the cave. "Shortly after we met, Fujioka said there was something I didn't know. She wouldn't explain, but it was pertaining to you."

"Fujioka's a meddler. She meddles. Always has."

"You said it to me before."

Jack's eyes widened. "When?"

"After Tomoda shot you, just before you passed out."

He swallowed hard. "Oh. Well, drugs are bad, mmkay."

"Rhett Bartholomew Jackson," Kamala said quietly. "If you don't tell me the truth right now, I will throw you off this mountain."

Jack's large, suddenly clammy hands opened and closed uselessly for a few seconds before he sighed and turned away, his voice hoarse. "Yeah. I meant it, Kam."

Kamala took a deep breath, unnerved that it came out shaky. She'd put her hands inside men's chests while they were seconds away from death and was steady as a rock. Now, there were tremors shivering up and down her ringed fingers, turning the tips ice-cold. Her breath curled in swirling patterns, faster and faster with every growing second of silence.

"Why didn't you tell me before now?"

Jack snorted. "Been asking myself that for months, actually. At first, I thought it was just cowardice. I mean, we're partners. I've wondered whether the key to why our project worked—why _we_ worked—was because things were still platonic. I was scared that shifting the relationship would deep-six the partnership... because if you rejected me, I wasn't sure I'd fully recover. I'd always respect you, always care for you, but that hurt could corrupt the way we saw each other. I figured it wasn't worth the risk, that maybe it was simple infatuation that would fade over time. I'm sure you've had that happen before, that kind of undefined chemistry with someone you weren't sure about, so you left it alone."

He smiled faintly, bitterly. "Only problem is, it didn't go away. It grew. Every day we spent together, I found a new reason to love you. It would be different if it was just attraction, like with Faye and Misaki. I can look at it logically and identify why it wouldn't work. But I couldn't do that with you. Crushes crumble if nothing's done about them resolved over time. This feeling though... lingered. The more I tried to ignore it, the more it became clear that I was falling for you. Then, I was faced with the horrible choice of telling you. Rejection is a part of life. I'm used to it by now, but... honestly, you're the only stable thing I've ever had in my life. I'm sure you've noticed my antisocial behavior. It's not easy for me to make friends or go on dates, and so I focused all my energy into the project since I didn't have anything else. Then, you walked into that door and everything changed. It hit me like lightning. You're everything I'm not, Kam. You're steadfast and extroverted and lively and passionate. My whole world was nothing but greyscale before you came along and splashed color all over it. I experienced things I never even knew was possible after I met you. Most importantly, you calm me. The thing inside me that makes me angry all the time isn't nearly as bad when I'm around you. Call it whatever you want, but I realized I need you far more than you need me, and that's why I kept it to myself. If you knew I felt this way and you didn't feel the same, I worried you'd feel obligated to stay with me because you didn't want to see me hurt."

He inhaled and finally ventured to look at her, his gaze soft. "I know you care about me, Kam. I've never doubted it. The reason I didn't tell you is because I'm not worthy."

Kamala blinked. "Worthy?"

He nodded. "I took a good, hard look at myself and my actions over the past few days. Yagami is scum, but he had a point. He told me I was dragging you down with me. This whole time, I've been selfishly assuming that everything I did was to protect you, when I've really been protecting myself. I think I was right before, about being your dragon, not your knight. I can't protect you. I can't pretend that I know what you want anymore. I have to become the kind of man who can be there for you when you need me, not for my own benefit. I must become someone who enriches your life the way you've enriched mine. If I can do that, then maybe someday you'll be able to see me the way that I see you."

"And who says I don't already, Jack?" she asked. "I've seen how far you would go to get our dragon back. What you've given up already to protect our ideals and what both of us believe in. I wouldn't have gone with you to Tokyo if I didn't know your value in my life, who you are to me. I trust you. I don't trust many people. There has never been a reason to doubt the man you are, not once, until you told me you loved me. I have never wanted to be the reason for your suffering. You carried all of that inside you for so long, enduring because you were afraid of what I might say in return, that it could fracture our friendship. You're right. This changes things."

She walked towards him and touched the side of his face, her fingers steady now. "You are a kind, loyal, brave man, Jack. You have nothing to be afraid of. I have never pictured my future without you in it, not since all those months ago after we started working together. You have earned my love and my trust a thousand times over, and you will never lose them."

She smiled a bit sadly. "Finding out that you're in love with me is... a lot to take in. It's not that I've never found you attractive, either. I've noticed how you look at Faye and Fujioka and it never occurred to me that I would appeal to you. You seem to prefer aggressive women, and so I figured that put me out of the running, so to speak. All I can say is that I need time to process this. You hold me in such high regard that I'm afraid I would only let you down."

"Not possible," he said with a small lopsided smile. "But I get the picture."

She shrugged. "I'm only human."

"If you say so, angel." He cupped her hand against his cheek and tilted his face, kissing her palm before he lowered it to her side.

"Stay safe."

He flipped the collar of his shirt up and braced against the frigid wind, vanishing into the white haze.

~*~

All her life, Fujioka had been close to water. She lived on the coast as a small girl, and found joy in the tiny bonsai tree surrounded by a gorgeous gurgling fountain in her mother's office, the koi ponds she used to visit as a teenager when they returned to Japan, even the _sōzu_ in her grandmother's garden. The element brought her peace during meditation, and after her tempestuous week with Jack, she even made sure to find time once a week for a long, hot bubble bath. It could wipe anything away, change almost anything, and yet still remain unmoved by the world around it.

It could even be used to destroy.

She knew from experience that it took the average person about two minutes to drown. The world record for the longest breath held underwater was an astonishing twenty-four minutes.

No wonder he had been holding her under for around one minute and thirty seconds now.

A huge, rough hand hauled her up by the neck out of the trough. She kept her eyes closed. The water wasn't any semblance of clean. Dirt, hay, soggy remains of feed, and general filth floated on top of the water. It tasted foul and smelled just as bad. He'd filled it to an inch from the top and lowered her into it repeatedly while still tied to the chair, so that her own body weight helped keep her submerged.

Harsh coughs wracked her frame. She'd learned to manage her emotions long ago, but the inherent fear of drowning involuntarily made her struggle, and struggling forced more water up her nose and into her lungs. Her dark hair clung to her forehead and down the front of her face, spilling cold water into her blouse and slacks. Three hundred and sixty seconds and counting.

"This ends whenever you want it to, Fujioka-san," Okegawa said with a sigh, tipping her chair back into its normal upright position. He'd changed into a simple black sleeveless top and jeans, since he knew he'd be making quite a mess. His cronies were still waiting outside, from what she could tell. Just the two of them. For now, anyway.

"I know you told Jackson to meet you somewhere if you ever got separated. You're a smart woman. You know all of this will end once he's dead. Give him up and I'll let you walk. It's that simple. The sooner you give me the information, the sooner you can return to Shinjuku and do what you do best." He gripped her chin and turned her face towards his. "Where did you tell him to meet you?"

"O-Old..."

Okegawa's eyebrows rose in interest. "Old?"

"Old... McDonald..."

He frowned. "What?"

Fujioka's upper body shook with sparse, hoarse laughter. "Old McDonald had a farm... E-I-E-I-O..."

Okegawa scowled. "This is very unprofessional, Fujioka-san."

She spat a mouthful of saliva and water in his face. "And on that farm he had a cow, E-I-E-I—"

He shoved her back down into the water.

Four hundred and fifty seconds and counting.

He brought her back up. Air. Light. So precious. She gulped it in as fast as she could, ignoring the screaming pain slicing through her aching lungs.

"Where is he, Fujioka? Where did you send him?"

She tilted her head towards him, her dark eyes blood-shot and crazed, her lips slashed with an ugly grin. "To your mother's house, bitch."

Five hundred and forty seconds and counting.

He ripped her from the water yet again. "Do you know how many times I can do this before you die, Fujioka-san? I do. I've drowned my share of rats working for the yakuza. You are no different from them. Give me what I want or the last thing you'll ever see will be the bottom of this trough."

Fujioka let out a weak giggle. "Death by kiddie pool. How embarrassing for me."

To her surprise, his hand slid away from her throat. He chuckled darkly and sat himself down on the rim of the trough. "You know, if it were anyone else, I'd have pulled out their tongue by now. It's usually the fifth time that gets them. They start to panic and question if it's really worth their life, if it's possible that I'll let them go, because of the lack of oxygen. Death makes men do crazy things." He leaned down to her height again. "So does love."

Fujioka stared at him. "You think I love him?"

"Look me in the eyes and tell me you don't."

Fujioka laughed, brash and unafraid. "Love is for children, boy. Is that the bedtime story your _oyabun_ read to you every night? That a woman only shows loyalty to the man she loves? Let's get one thing straight before we go any further. I'm not doing this for Jack. I'm doing this for me. The yakuza have been killing Tokyo for decades. Any opportunity to stomp you out like the vermin you are is worth more than my life."

"And why is that, Fujioka-san?" he asked. "Is it because of your late husband?"

Fujioka stilled.

"Oh? I see. You are made of steel, but we both know you weren't always. Detective Kyōya Saitō. That was his name, wasn't it?"

"Shut your mouth," she whispered.

"Outstanding in every known capacity, from what I hear. Noble. Strong. Kind-hearted. And above all, loyal. The man could not be bought for any amount, and believe me, the yakuza did make him generous offers."

"Shut. Up."

"Married only two years before that fateful night where he foiled a human trafficking ring and the yakuza drove him off the road and then shot him dead where he lay. He died a hero. He died alone."

With a roar, Fujioka threw herself at him, heedless of the restraints, of the knowledge that there was no way to hurt him while she was bound, but with every word, the memories crashed against the barrier she'd built in her mind and made her want to tear him limb from limb.

"Say his name again!" she bellowed. "Say it and I'll rip your throat out, you spoiled, insolent child!"

Okegawa merely stared down at her, silent and patient, as she struggled against her bonds. He shook his head after a moment. "Maybe I've been going about this the wrong way." He settled his hands on the arms of the chair. "Tell me where Jackson went... and I'll tell you who murdered your husband."

Fujioka stopped breathing. "You couldn't possibly know that."

"I have been inside both the Inagawa and the Yamaguchi for over ten years," he murmured. "Do you really believe that I can't find out, or do you just not want to?"

"There was no evidence," she spat. "Nothing but tire tracks. It could have been anyone."

"And for all you know, it could be the man standing right outside that barn door. Give me what I want and I'll tell you who killed him."

Cold, fluttering panic flooded through her body. She knew better. He was lying. Of course he was lying. He'd already worked out that the torture wouldn't work, so he went for a sucker punch instead, preying on the open wound inside her. He didn't know.

Right?

"I'll give you time to think about it," Okegawa said, rising to his feet. "Not long. If you refuse my offer, I'm afraid our friendly courtship will reach its end."

He strode out of the barn. She listened to the droplets of water hitting her shoulders and the staggered pants escaping her parted lips. The memories swarmed and swallowed her whole. She'd been so good at keeping them at bay over the years, locking them deep inside her where no one could find them. Until now, only one person had managed to drag them out of her.

" _Jack... oh God, Jack..."_

She couldn't think straight. She was losing it. All she could do was feel; feel his hand in her hair, his lips on her throat, his heavy, solid chest grazing hers, and the way the pleasure kept building higher and higher, as if it had nowhere to go but up. They clung to each other, frantic, impulsive, impatient, and yet desperately prolonging their last night together.

In a blur of liquid grace and power, he scooped her up across his lap until they were face to face and kissed her hard, winding those long arms around her waist. She assumed control without hesitation, and it didn't take long, not with the frenetic pace they'd set. She screamed in triumph and set her nails into his shoulders, crushed against him, trapped, as the world fell away and everything was bliss.

She didn't remember him laying her back down on the mattress. She came around an eternity later with his lanky naked frame braced on one arm above her, his sweaty forehead in the crook of her neck, his free hand tracing patterns along her side. He moved above her when he felt her wake and offered her an exhausted smile, and a kiss so sweet it would have made honeybees jealous.

She shoved him off her and grabbed her clothes from the floor.

" _Whoa," Jack said, scrambling upright. "What's gotten into you?"_

She didn't say anything. Her hands shook as she pulled on her underwear. She hated it. A lot. It made it harder to clip the bra on.

" _Christ, what did I do?" Jack asked anxiously, standing. "Did I hurt you?"_

" _No," she said tightly as she pulled on her shirt and jeans._

" _Then what? Talk to me, for God's sake."_

She got her boots on and marched towards the door.

" _Misaki!" He grabbed her arm and spun her around. "What's wrong?"_

" _You broke it!" she snarled. "You broke the rules, alright? I told you. I told you, and you didn't listen to me."_

" _What rule?"_

" _I told you not to make love to me. Ever. This is physical. No attachments. You crossed the line."_

" _Oh, so this is all my fault, huh? Why doesn't that surprise me?"_

" _Grow up."_

" _No, I think you're the one who needs to grow up. Shit happens. Sometimes it's not just sex. Sometimes things get in the way, and I'm damn sure not going to apologize for the way I feel about you."_

She gritted her teeth. "You don't know how you feel."

" _And neither do you," he shot back. "What the hell is the matter with you? Why do you think the whole world's going to end if I like you and you like me?"_

" _I'm going back to Japan tomorrow. I don't have time for goodbyes and childish affections. That's not what my life is about."_

" _Tough shit, Fujioka. It's not possible to live in this world without attachments."_

She stepped in close, spitting the words into his face. "Watch me."

He glared back, not flinching under her piercing gaze. "Too late. It wasn't just me back there. You felt something too. Why the hell is that so wrong?"

" _Because of my husband."_

Jack froze. "You... you're married?"

" _I was," she said, and then she turned and opened the door. "He died six months ago."_

She slammed the door behind her. He didn't go after her.

But she wanted him to.

# CHAPTER SIXTEEN

CHRONOPHOBIA

Faye Worthington was used to not sleeping.

But this was something different entirely.

A week ago, she'd have been on her iPad watching a movie on Netflix, or typing out notes for her next research paper, and would have fallen asleep a little after midnight if she'd had a long day. Some nights, she and Kamala stayed up talking, smoking weed on the back porch swing if they were stressed, or binge-watching something if they both couldn't sleep. Other times, she'd be staying over at whatever boy-toy she'd caught in her web for the evening, wrapped in a pair of muscular arms after a night of indulgence. When the sun went down, she lit up and the night life in Cambridge would have to sprint to keep pace with her.

Not tonight.

"Don't look," she muttered, staring up at the crystal dolphin dangling from the chain of her ceiling fan. "Don't do it, Faye. Just don't do it." She shut her eyes. "Sleep. Go to sleep."

A minute passed. Two. Three. Five. Ten.

She grabbed her phone, snatching it free from its charger. She pressed the button in the center, but the only thing that greeted her was the selfie she'd taken with Kamala on their trip to Clearwater Beach, Florida. No messages. No missed calls.

She hadn't heard from them in hours.

"They're investigating a dragon kidnapped by the yakuza," she snarled at herself as she dropped the phone into her lap. "It's not like they can stop to call every five seconds. Go to sleep, you idiot."

She tossed the phone back on her nightstand and rolled over onto her belly, smushing her face into the pillow with resolute finality.

A minute passed. Two. Three. Five. Ten.

"Fuck it," Faye growled, and then she marched into the bathroom to find a bottle of ZzzQuil.

A second after she'd popped the cap off the bottle, her phone rang.

She pounced across the bedroom and answered it, breathless. "Hello?"

"Hey," Jack said. "Did I wake you?"

She paused and then faked a yawn. "Yeah, but it's fine. What's up?"

"Uh... kind of a lot."

She arched an eyebrow. "A good lot or a bad lot?"

"Both?"

She settled the pillow over her lap and squeezed it a bit, taking a deep, calming breath. "Okay. Start from the beginning."

Recounting the events of the last twenty-four hours only took about fifteen minutes, surprisingly enough. She listened patiently without interrupting. She could tell he had a lot on his mind and needed a sounding board more than anything else, because it wasn't like she was in any position to help at one o'clock in the morning on the opposite side of the planet.

"So..." she said after he'd finished. "You left my best friend with a killer dragon in a cave on a mountain somewhere in Japan?"

He let out a haggard sigh. "I didn't leave her there. She's safe for now. I've still got a target painted on my back and it's not going anywhere while Fujioka's still out there."

Faye hesitated. "I hate to ask, but... what do you think they'll do to her if they have her?"

"Try to get her to tell them where we went," he said, sighing heavily. "Which I've been trying my best not to think about for the moment."

"Yeah," she murmured. "I'm sorry, Jack. She sounds tough. Maybe she made it out."

"Doubtful," he said. "I've been here over an hour and she hasn't showed. I think they took her and Yagami both."

"What did the authorities say?"

Silence. Faye frowned. "Jack? What did they tell you to do?"

"I... haven't called them yet."

"Rhett Bartholomew Jackson," she growled. "Are you insane?"

"I know, I know, but let me explain—"

"Explain what? If she's out there and they have her, you have to surrender what you know. They're the only ones who can help you."

"I know that, dammit. I also know that the yakuza here buy people like they're nothing, and there's a good chance that I'll get us all killed if I contact the local police."

"What other choice do you have, Jack? You don't know where they are. And even if you did, you can't just ride into town and challenge them to a showdown. You have to take a leap of faith here and trust the system."

"Remember what happened the last time I did that? Detective Stubbs paid for it with his life."

Faye ran a hand through her blonde hair and suppressed the urge to continue yelling at him. "That's why you called me, isn't it?"

"What?"

"I know you're supposed to keep me updated, but that's the real reason. You wanted to call the cops, but you kept thinking about him and Evelyn."

"...yeah."

"Dammit, Jack, we talked about this. You can't hold the world on your shoulders. You'll get yourself killed thinking this way. Stubbs is gone. It's a tragedy, but it happened and nothing you do will take it back. You must make the hard choice here. If the yakuza want the dragon back, then Fujioka is still alive, and they'll find a way to contact you to bargain for her life. If you're already working with the police, then you've at least got a better shot at saving her."

"I know. I guess... I just needed to hear it from someone I trust."

Faye froze. "Oh. Well. Yeah."

"Don't go all mushy on me, Faye," he said with a teasing lilt. "I thought we agreed to keep things platonic."

She relaxed into a smile. "Platonic, my perfectly toned ass. I remember 'thinly veiled flirting' being part of the package deal."

"Are you coming on to me, Faye?"

"Always. Oh, that reminds me. I ran into James McGruder at the gym tonight."

The line went dead for about ten seconds and then Jack very sheepishly replied with a small, "Oh."

"Yeah, it's funny. When I saw him, he had a broken nose and he practically tripped over himself apologizing to me and said to also apologize to the 'tall, scary guy' if I saw him. Do you know any tall, scary men, Jack?"

He cleared his throat. "Not in particular, no."

"Uh-huh. You do know I'm going to make you pay for that, right?"

"Yeah. Still worth it, though."

She rolled her eyes. "I can take care of myself, you know. You don't need to fight my battles for me."

"That's not what I was doing."

"Really? What were you doing, then?"

"It wasn't for you. In case you haven't noticed, I have a bit of a temper and I don't like bullies. Besides, it made me feel so damn good I very nearly had to change my pants afterward."

Faye snorted back laughter. "Lovely. Just be honest. You want to get back on my good side, don't you?"

"Well, maybe I'm reconsidering your offer."

"Why would you do that?"

"Oh, right. So, I told Kamala I'm in love with her."

"You did _what?_ "

"Well, I mean, I thought we were gonna die, so take that into consideration."

"What did she say?"

"To give her some time to think it over. It wasn't exactly a no, but I'm not skipping down the street whistling a tune either."

Faye nibbled her bottom lip. "I'm sorry. I hope it's a good 'I need to think it over' and not an 'I need to stall so I can explain why this is never gonna happen.'"

"Gee, thanks for the vote of confidence, Faye."

"Hey, just keepin' it real, buddy. How did that go, by the way? Telling her?"

"Pretty sure my heart didn't beat the whole time. Haven't been that damn nervous since the first time I had sex."

"Are you coming on to me, Jack?"

"Always."

She shook her head, smiling. "You did a brave thing. No matter what she says, after all of this is settled, you did the right thing telling her. I hope you know that. I'm proud of you."

"Faye—"

"And not just for telling her. For all of it. For going there and getting Pete back and proving to the world that you can beat the odds, even if you suffer losses in the meantime. I know it's hard, but I also know you. You can do this, Jack. You can win this thing."

She swallowed past the lump in her throat, hoping he couldn't hear the subtle and sudden wobbly undercurrent in her voice. "So, you beat these bastards and you bring Kamala home to me, okay? Promise me. Promise me you'll come home."

He didn't speak for several paralyzing seconds. "I promise."

"Good. Now get off the phone and go save your friend."

"Okay. I will. Thank you, Faye. I..." He coughed slightly. "I'll call you after it's over. Get some sleep, huh?"

"Okay. Bye, Jack."

"Bye."

She hung up and plugged her phone back into its charger. Then she pulled up the covers and went to sleep.

~*~

Of all the places Yagami Sugimoto figured he would die in, he'd never suspected it would be a pig farm.

As soon as they'd rolled back the van's door, he knew where he was. He hadn't spent much time with livestock during his education, but the scent was uncanny, and everywhere in the air surrounding the farm. One could often smell it a few miles out if the windows were down in the vehicle. He also knew it was pigs instead of beef due to being familiar with the import and export culture of the country, as he'd been in countless meetings with his father as a young boy, carted around and being groomed for taking over the company someday. So much for that.

The men hauled him, still hooded and gagged, over grass and dirt for a bit until he could hear the grunts and squeaks of the pigs nearby. Then, to his surprise, they took off his hood and gag, though noticeably not the zip-ties, and told him to stay put or they'd rough him up.

Yagami glanced up at the sky and figured out the sun's placement. It was probably between one and two o'clock in the afternoon. By now, the R&D compound would be swarming with police officers. They'd find evidence of his presence all over the place, and the media would have a field day speculating. Once Keiko got wind of it all, she'd be set for life as the C.E.O. of the company. His father had reservations about it, but he cared more about his reputation than anything else. Any hope of staying alive dwindled and sputtered out. Yagami would die here. He was certain of it.

A strange sense of calm filled him. He'd tried. At least he'd tried.

The dirt crunched underneath heavy feet next to him. A cloud of smoke rose up into the sky. Yagami didn't bother to acknowledge him.

"You're standing in pig shit," Okegawa drawled.

"These are old shoes," Yagami replied mildly. "I'll get over it."

"Since when?" Okegawa snorted. "Remember that time I dropped my ice cream on them and you made me buy you a whole new pair instead of just taking them to the cordwainer?"

"I was teaching you a lesson about courtesy. Obviously, it didn't take."

"You wound me, _aniki_. I'm always courteous." He reached into his pocket and withdrew a retractable stiletto blade. Then he leaned over and cut Yagami's restraints off. He tucked it back inside his jeans and then offered him a cigarette. Yagami accepted. Okegawa lit it for him and they both stood in silence for a while, watching the pigs wander about and nap in the sunlight.

"How is Keiko-chan?" Okegawa asked.

"Conniving and impossible."

The yakuza lieutenant smirked. "Just the way I like her. When's the last time you saw your father?"

Yagami thought about it. "Three months ago. He looks like a walking, talking beef jerky in a toupee."

Okegawa choked on a laugh. "That's nice. How long?"

Yagami shrugged. "He's been in and out of chemo. Anywhere between six months and a year. The arrangements have been made already."

"Will you miss him?"

"There has to be something to miss. He's a void. A black hole with a pulse."

"Aren't we all?" He tossed the cigarette stub to the ground and stomped it out before lighting a new one. "I want to make an arrangement."

"I bet you do," Yagami said.

"Not that kind. Between you, me, and Keiko-chan. I think it's more beneficial if we work together than if we keep fighting each other."

"So, that's why I'm still alive. I'm your meal ticket, huh?"

Okegawa gave him an even stare. "You really think I'd kill you?"

Yagami's face tightened with anger. "You already betrayed me. What's the difference? A metaphorical knife in the back is the same as a real one."

"Grow up," Okegawa sneered. "Just grow up, _aniki_. You've spent so much time in your rich, pampered little bubble. This is what the real world looks like. I've waited my entire life for an opportunity like this, and yet all you want is to go back to your lab and hide behind your beloved science. Never get your manicured hands dirty. Never make the hard choices when it's down to the wire."

"Oh, how awful. Poor Kazu. You've had to work so hard to be a traitor, a killer, a liar, and a criminal. How could I ever, as a rich son of a crime-lord, understand the pain and anguish that you've gone through?" He tossed his own spent cigarette to the ground. "Cry me a fucking river, Kazu. You just dismantled my entire life and killed someone I respected. Do you really think it's this easy? Do you really think after the dust settles you'll get exactly what you want? You are the one who needs to grow up. You have no idea what you've done."

"I've done what's necessary."

"Really? Tell me, where is Fujioka?"

Okegawa grimaced. Yagami crossed his arms. "Yes. Precisely. You've got an innocent woman tied up, being tortured for information like she's one of your disobedient _kyodai_ , or one of your victims, all because you can't control one man. Why do you think I left you out of the loop? You escalate everything you get your hands on. That's how we got into this mess to begin with."

"You needed my help," Okegawa hissed, pointing a finger in his face. "But you were too damn proud to ask for it. I didn't just do this for me. I've been rotting away in Tokyo, playing both sides, until I found a way out. If we pull this off, then I'm free. All I have to do is hand over what the _oyabun_ wants and I can walk away with my own life intact. I can start something with that dragon, with what we've learned about it from Jackson's research. We will do something the world hasn't ever seen before, and you are a fool if you're willing to give up that chance because of your ego."

"You want me to work with you after you told me that you've been Inagawa all along? How am I ever supposed to trust you again, Kazu? You lied to me for over a decade. Ten years of my life. All I've cared about on this planet has been my work and you. That's it. I almost had a life. I almost had a family. And you took both of those away from me."

"You think I wanted to?" Okegawa spat. "I was ten years old. I had no choice. I would have died on those streets if not for the Inagawa."

"What did they promise you that was good enough for you to use me?"

Okegawa turned away and scrubbed his face with both hands, running one through his damp, unkempt locks. He inhaled deeply and blew out another lungful of smoke before answering. "I didn't know any better. They told me they'd set it up to make it look like I saved you, and once I was in with the Yamaguchi, I'd wait for further instructions until the time was right. They didn't tell me it would be years. They didn't tell me I'd become your brother. After a while, I almost forgot about my original mission because it was nice to know what family felt like. To have someone in your life who genuinely cared about you, and not because you can do something for them. Believe me, I wanted to tell you the truth for years, but by the time we were teenagers, I knew you wouldn't understand if I told you. The lie just kept growing and growing with every year, and I kept it buried inside me because I hoped it would protect our friendship."

He faced him. "I'm not asking for forgiveness. I don't deserve it. I'm not going to pretend like we can go back to what we were before today. But we _can_ do this. Not as friends. You don't have to trust me. Just become a part of this now and then rebuild your life later. If we pull this off, you'll never have to see me again. I promise."

"And if I say no?"

"I won't kill you. I can't. You know that." He took a deep breath. "But I can't vouch for the others in our organization. If the orders come down from on high that you're too much of a loose end, then even I wouldn't be able to protect you. That's all I can offer now, _aniki_."

Yagami turned toward the pigs. "You will do two things."

" _Hai?_ "

"You will foot the bill for Watsuki's funeral. I want his loved ones compensated for the rest of their lives."

" _Hai._ "

He faced the yakuza lieutenant again, his dark eyes radiant with anger. "Don't ever call me _aniki_ again."

Okegawa sighed quietly. " _Hai._ "

"What's the arrangement?"

~*~

"Are you sure that is everything you know, Dr. Jackson?"

Jack took a deep sip of his tea before answering. "Yes."

The translator, a short, thin man in his thirties, glanced at the female detective and nodded. The detective finished writing the notes on a pad of paper and then replied curtly to the translator.

"Detective Hayasaka wants to know if you've been contacted since your friend was abducted."

"Not that I know of. They sort of crushed my personal phone, and my other method of contact is inaccessible at the moment."

"Is it possible for you to contact them instead?"

Jack placed Nakamura's phone on the table. "The ringleader's phone number is on here. I don't know if it's his personal number or not, but the last time they reached him, it was through this number."

"How long has it been since her abduction?"

Jack glanced at the clock on the wall. "Just over three hours."

The translator cleared his throat. "Detective Hayasaka says it would be a lot easier if you divulged the dragon's current location."

"I don't exactly know it, to be honest. I'm unfamiliar with the area. It took me nearly twenty minutes to catch a cab back to the nearest train station."

After the translator answered for him, Det. Hayasaka's eyes narrowed slightly. Jack stared back at her and sipped his tea. She flicked her gaze down to the pad and continued writing, her voice still emotionless.

"She says for now, they will see if it's possible to get permission to trace Okegawa's phone, but you must be patient. If someone calls with demands, then the investigation gets put on a fast-track, but until then, I'm afraid there isn't much we can do."

Jack took a deep breath. "I understand."

The translator patted Jack's shoulder and stood, following the detective and carrying on in low tones as they walked away from her desk. Jack set the tea on the detective's desk and folded his hands before taking stock of the bullpen. Most people weren't paying him any mind. They were all working on cases up on whiteboards or making phone calls.

Except for the tall, thin secretary near the elevator.

She'd been doing a marvelous job of being subtle, but Jack had felt her eyes on him from the second he walked into the precinct. He hadn't looked at her for more than a second to keep up the ruse, but he knew in his gut that something was up. The bullpen was far too large for him to be able to listen in on her phone calls, but he got the distinct impression she'd reported his appearance to someone. He sighed inwardly. He'd hoped that his suspicions were wrong, but with organized crime running so deeply through Tokyo's veins, it was possible to run into a mole. It meant he'd have to get his hands even dirtier than they already were.

About thirty minutes into his wait for the detective to get clearance for a phone trace, the secretary told her coworkers that she was going on her lunch break. She slipped on her purse and headed out the door. Jack waited until he was out of her line of sight and then followed.

The late afternoon foot traffic in Tokyo was intense. However, due to his height, it wasn't hard to see where she'd gone: around the corner and down the street to a small marketplace that also served lunch. To the secretary's credit, she often looked over her shoulder, but Jack managed to stay out of sight until she sat down at the sushi bar to eat. He eyed the purse that she'd placed on the stool next to her and slid inside the marketplace. He greeted the hostess and tugged her aside for a moment.

The secretary had eaten about half of her lunch by the time a waitress walked past and tripped, spilling soy sauce all over her blouse. The waitress immediately apologized profusely and grabbed several napkins while promising to pay for the dry cleaning. It drew the attention of nearby patrons, thus distracting them when Jack brushed past and stole her phone out of the purse.

He slipped outside and hurried back towards the precinct. Thankfully, her phone wasn't passcode-protected, so he checked the last number she'd called from the phone. The area code wasn't any of the ones for Tokyo. He researched and found that it was the number to a pig farm less than an hour away from Kanagawa.

Jack stopped at the steps of the precinct. Well, he'd gotten a lead. Illegally. If he turned it over to the authorities, he'd still be in a shitload of trouble for stealing the secretary's phone and technically stalking her beforehand. It couldn't hurt to secure some proof before he told them what he'd done.

He chewed on his lip and then stepped around the corner, calling the number. A moment later, someone answered.

"May I speak to Kazuma Okegawa?" he asked in Japanese.

"I'm sorry, sir, but there's no one here by that name."

He paused. "I'm an associate of his. We've made a business arrangement through a mutual client named Misaki Fujioka."

A pause. "One moment please, sir."

He waited. Nearly five minutes passed, and then a sickeningly familiar voice spoke. "This is Okegawa."

Jack's free hand balled into a fist. "Nice secretary."

Silence. Then Okegawa let out a dry laugh. "You are terribly resourceful, Jackson-sensei. Especially for a scientist."

He shut his eyes, suppressing the first hundred violent threats that rose to mind. "Is she alive?"

"Of course she is."

"Let me speak to her."

"Do you think I was born yesterday? Why on earth would I do that?"

"You want the dragon, don't you?"

"I do, but I also know she's too smart to behave if I put her on the phone with you. Fujioka is a brilliant, observant, dangerous woman. I'm actually thinking about keeping her, to be honest."

Jack's blood boiled and threatened to shoot out of his ears. "Is this a hostage negotiation or not?"

"You know the terms. The dragon for your woman. Send the cops and I'll slit her throat and then I'll find you and do the same."

"You know where I am. What's to stop you from doing that anyway?"

"I don't have _ojō-sama's_ location yet. Killing you would do nothing but gather unnecessary attention to my organization. We succeed only by misdirection and patience."

"You have all the data. You have Yagami. Why do you still even want the dragon?"

"Because she's a living marvel, Jackson-sensei. Not everything can be solved through equations and theories. Nothing can compare to studying a live specimen. You know better than most that life is full of surprises that not even science can explain. Now it is up to you to decide. Do you risk involving the authorities or do you accept your fate and face the end of the line?"

Without even realizing, Jack had been pacing the length of the sidewalk, bumping into people on occasion, one hand fisted in his messy hair. His mind raced to find some kind of solution, but it all led back to the same horrific road. How had it all gone so wrong?

"You don't want to let me talk to her? Fine. Take a picture and send it. Then I'll make my decision."

Okegawa sighed. "Very well."

The line quieted. Jack kept pacing. A couple minutes passed.

When Okegawa returned, his voice was tight as piano wire. "You will have to settle for good faith. She's not in any condition for a picture at the moment."

Jack stopped dead. An exhilarating thrill of adrenaline streaked through his veins. "I see. Give me an hour. I'll be there."

He hung up and pumped both fists in the air, screaming into the heavens in pure elation. The random spectators around him visibly jumped in surprise.

"She got away!" Jack shouted hysterically. "Goddammit, I love that woman!"

~*~

Being a bodyguard definitely had its perks. Fujioka could make her own hours, pick her own clients, and instruct said clients on the best way to stay safe.

Instructions that included how to escape restraints.

The second Okegawa had closed the door to the barn, she shook her head hard enough to get her wet, tangled hair out of her face and took a good, hard look at her surroundings. She listened for thirty seconds and confirmed that there was a guard outside each exit. Okegawa wouldn't give her long, since he thought she was in emotional distress. Probably two to three minutes, possibly five at the max. Just enough time to slip the zip-ties and make a move.

The yakuza were a knowledgeable bunch in the ways of kidnapping. They hadn't let her keep her hands with her thumbs facing each other, balled into a fist, since that would allow her to maneuver the zip-ties off with the extra room. Instead, they had tied them at her wrists with her palms mirroring each other. The average hostage would have no chance of getting it off without using something to saw a hole in the plastic. But Fuijoka was a trained professional. She used the shimming method, inserting her nail into the clasp of the zip tie, which unlocked it, and she managed to slide it off. Her legs were trickier, but she pried a rusty nail out of the chair and sawed through the duct tape pinning them to the chair's legs.

Okegawa had left through the right entrance. She had about a minute and a half to two minutes, so she stayed low and headed for the left entrance. The barn was enclosed on all sides, so the windows were welded shut to prevent any loose pigs from trying to escape. She'd been brought in as a prisoner, so the odds were high they hadn't locked the enclosure.

She backed up against the left door and placed one hand on the bar, holding her breath as she inched it forward. A tiny shaft of late afternoon light poured in and granted her a view of the yakuza standing there. Six feet tall, wiry, wearing a hip-holster that housed a .9mm semiautomatic. The bored look on his face led her to believe he wasn't fully alert. He stood about a foot in front of the door, so his peripheral would probably see it if she pushed it all the way open. He stared aimlessly out at the farmland, so she deduced that none of his buddies were in the area or they'd be chatting it up by now. She had a miniscule window of opportunity to act.

The guard sighed and pulled out his phone, tapping away at it. Fujioka kept inching the door outward until she had just enough room to slip her svelte frame through it. She aligned her body as much as possible with his from behind, still holding her breath, and counted to three.

Then she reached up and snapped his neck.

The man wheezed once and his body crumpled as if it had been a puppet with its strings snipped. She caught his heavy frame and pressed her hand hard over his nose and mouth as he took his last few breaths and finally died. She dragged the corpse around the side of the building and grabbed the gun before going through his pockets for anything else useful. No extra magazine, but she kept the phone and immediately dialed an emergency number as she slunk away from the barn. It wouldn't take the yakuza long to notice. She had to put as much distance between them as possible and be stealthy in the meantime. Once they figured out she was gone, they'd conduct a manhunt and if they found her, she'd have to make her final stand.

And she wasn't about to die on a damned pig farm.

The feeding barn was at the center of the farm itself, situated between the fenced-in area where the pigs were left to graze, and the slaughterhouse. She spotted a silo up on the hill that didn't appear to have anyone near it, but there was a good forty yards between them. The farm had about twelve acres of empty fields surrounding it, and she was as good as dead if she made a run towards the forest with zero cover. Even at breakneck speed, the authorities wouldn't arrive any sooner than thirty minutes, if that.

"Well," Fujioka muttered to herself, eying the rusted wood and metal outer walls of the feeding barn. "When all else fails, hide in plain sight."

She stuffed the gun in the small of her back and climbed onto the roof of the building. Her injured shoulder shrieked in protest, but she steeled herself and worked through the pain. Once there, she flattened herself against the burning hot metal and thumbed back the hammer on the pistol, waiting for the inevitable.

It didn't take long. A minute later, she heard Okegawa roar and smirked as she listened to his borderline panicked verbal assault on his men for letting her get away. She could hear them banging around checking all the pens for any sign of her, and the men who had been near the fenced area eventually began a methodical sweep of the area. They discovered the corpse rather quickly and spread out to search the grounds. In the meantime, she considered her options: waiting until the guards left an opening and heading for the silo, staying put to wait for the authorities to arrive, or taking Okegawa hostage to get his men to back off.

The safest bet was retreating to the silo. It would give her the best vantage point for taking out Okegawa's men and holing up until help arrived. Staying put was bound to get her caught sooner or later. Trying to overtake Okegawa would be unnecessarily reckless.

Too bad the son of a bitch had brought up Kyōya.

Fujioka checked the magazine of the .9mm and jacked a round into the chamber, chuckling darkly to herself.

"No one lives forever."

# CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

WATERSHED

"This is Dr. Kamala Anjali, a post-doc grant recipient of the Massachusetts Institute of Technology Microbiology department, conducting an updated physical exam on the first hybrid _varanus lacerto_ ever born in the modern era. Forgive the unusual environment. This recording is to serve as evidence in the event that tragedy should strike and I am unable to do this back in my own lab. Bear with me for a moment."

Kamala flipped the phone to check the time. "It's about three-thirty in the afternoon in the Kanagawa prefecture of Japan. I will attempt to note as much as I can about the subject's drastic changes over the last three days, depending on her demeanor."

She walked over to Pete, who lazily opened one yellow eye to watch as the phone's flashlight swept over her long, streamlined body. "The subject, codenamed Pete, was approximately two-point four pounds, twelve inches long, and six-point-five inches tall. Her wings measured at four inches long and two inches wide. By my current estimate, she is now just under seven hundred pounds, six-foot-seven inches tall, seven-and-a-half feet long from snout to hindquarters, her tail is four-and-a-quarter feet long, and her wingspan is easily twelve-feet long, if not more. How is this possible in only three days? I'll be damned if I don't wish I had an answer for that. We've narrowed it down to one of two things: a defective gene that was a side effect of her genetic engineering or a result of her hybrid breeding causing her traits to take on more of the Komodo dragon side than the _varanus lacerto_ side of her biology. Either way, this is by far the most extraordinary growth spurt I've ever witnessed in any animal. If I ever get her back to a lab, the rate of cell production will be off the charts."

She laid a hand on Pete's snout and rubbed gently. The dragon snorted and closed her eye again, and a vibrating hum filled the air. "As a result of the exponential growth, her physical traits more closely resemble the dragon side of her DNA. Her scales are thicker, she has more ridges in her facial features, her teeth are larger, and according to a witness, she has venomous sacs that are lethal when they come in contact with human skin. Behaviorally, though..."

Kamala scratched beneath the dragon's chin. "I don't know what to make of her. It's been hypothesized that certain breeds of dragons imprinted on the first beings they came in contact with, and that some even had a pack structure rather than being solitary like most reptiles. But Pete has shown far more depth and mystery than any reptile I've ever observed. For example, my partner and I were in danger while trying to get her somewhere safe. She broke loose and escaped... but then she came back for us and flew us to safety. What on earth would you call that? Don't get me wrong; animals have been known to save lives, but historically, it's a trait you see in mammals, especially canines, felines, and dolphins. There are even a few stories about horses or livestock building attachments to people and finding them help when they need it the most, but I can't recall a single instance of a reptile doing such a thing. We have only scraped the surface in our research about a dragon's cognition and social behavior. Pete appears to have moods. A personality. She also seems to understand direct commands to a certain degree, as demonstrated by my partner when we were escorting her to safety. She picks up on tone of voice for certain, as I've been able to keep her calm with reassuring words and gestures. I've honestly never seen anything like her. The world has never seen anything like her."

Kamala flipped the phone to face her. "I suppose that, more than anything else, is why I decided to go on this journey. It's ill-advised. If you need proof of that, look at where I am: stuck in a cave on a mountain while my best friend tries to find a way to save the person who was supposed to save us. Life has a funny way of turning things around on you."

Pete lifted her large head and settled it in Kamala's lap. The small scientist smiled and continued rubbing the dragon's nose. "I guess what everyone would want to know is if this mad chase through the streets of Shinjuku has been worth it. I'm afraid I can't answer that. All signs point to the fact that we made a mistake, that we got caught up in the emotion of it all, that we were too short-sighted to accept the loss and move on. Still, I can't help feeling that even if we end up failing... even the slimmest chance of saving Pete's life and giving her the future she and other dragons like her deserve was worth it. I may be wrong. Only time will tell."

She hit the Record button to end the session and the phone went back to the camera screen. She switched it to idle and took a deep breath. It had been over an hour. She needed to get moving to find a way home. _With or without Jack_ , her brain finished in a nasty whisper.

"He'll come through," Kamala murmured to herself stubbornly. "He always does."

Is it worth your life believing in him?

"You're damned right it is."

Pete opened her eye again. Kamala pursed her lips at the dragon. "Oh, don't you start. Your surrogate father has a knack for driving me crazy. This is just a side effect." Kamala sighed. "Apparently, the feeling's mutual. Goddess above, I can't believe I never bloody noticed. Men. They're all useless."

The dragon kept staring. "Don't give me that look, alright? He's sweet to almost everyone. How was I supposed to know I was getting special treatment? Well, everyone but Faye, and even then, he sort of likes her in his own way. In a Sam-and-Diane kind of way, at least."

She chuckled softly. "God, if Jack is Sam, who does that make me? We never did finish binge-watching _Cheers_. Maybe if we live through this, I'll do that."

Kamala patted the dragon's head and slid out from underneath her. "We'd better get moving. It's a long way down and the cold isn't doing either of us any good."

She gently took the chain and tugged on it. The dragon made a rumbling sound of protest, but stood to her clawed feet with a yawn that exposed her sharp fangs and black forked tongue. Kamala made sure her few belongings were all secured in her pockets and led Pete towards the mouth of the cave. The clouds had cleared and the blue sky had started to darken as the sun sunk lower on the horizon. She had a few hours before nightfall. She needed to make them count.

"Ready for another terrifying ride?" Kamala asked, patting the dragon's neck.

Pete stretched her wings and flapped them open, catching the bursts of cold air around them. Kamala muttered a brief prayer and climbed on, this time holding onto the chain in the hopes of using it like a horse's reins. The dragon took a sweeping glance over the mountainside and then leapt into the air like an enormous raven.

Kamala stifled a squeal as the sharp, cold air slapped her hair away from her face and stung her eyes, but she kept them open as they glided through the sky as if they were nothing more than a couple of leaves in the breeze. In only seconds, they left the forest behind and soared closer to civilization. They caught up to the paved road leading back into the populated areas of Kanagawa, and Kamala decided to try her luck guiding the dragon's flight. She leaned to the right side and tugged on Pete's chain. The dragon tilted in the air and began to taper towards that direction. Relieved, Kamala scoped out the landscape until she found an open field and then leaned her weight forward towards Pete's neck.

The dragon circled the tall grass once and then landed neatly in the middle of it. The small scientist hopped off and stroked Pete's neck. "Good girl. You're the best."

She withdrew her cell phone and tapped it awake, then held it up as high as she could. "Come on. I could use some good karma for once."

A second later, bars popped up in the top left hand corner of the phone. "Yes!"

Immediately, she Googled an address and committed it to memory, and then checked to see if she had any messages from Jack. Nothing yet. She noted the time again and decided to take her chances.

Not long after she dialed, a winded Jack answered the phone. "Hey."

She let out a breath she didn't realize she'd been holding. "Hey. Are you alright?"

"I'm stellar, now that I know you're okay." She rolled her eyes, but smirked nonetheless. "You're such a sap, Jack. Do you have an update on Fujioka?"

"Oh, I've got something even better. She got away."

A delirious spot of hope blossomed inside Kamala. "How do you know?"

"I called the Jackass to get proof that she's still alive, but when I asked for a picture, he said she's 'indisposed.' I know her well enough. She busted out. Now, I don't know if that means she's left the grounds yet, but she's not in their custody anymore, at least. I'm on my way back to the precinct to rally the troops. Where are you?"

"I landed to get a signal. I'm heading to the embassy to get Pete somewhere secure and to negotiate the terms of getting us stateside."

"Atta girl. I'll meet you there as soon as I can, but, uh, it might not exactly be quick-like."

She arched an eyebrow at his guilty tone. "What did you do?"

"...nothing?"

"Jack."

"I may or may not have semi-stalked the precinct's secretary and stolen her phone once I realized she was a mole for the yakuza while they were investigating Fujioka's kidnapping."

Kamala brought her hand up to palm her face. " _Jack._ "

"What? It worked, didn't it?"

"Why are you constantly trying to raise my blood pressure?"

"I swear, I was minding my own business before it happened. I don't go looking for trouble... most of the time, anyway." He paused and heaved a sigh. "Shit. They're out here looking for me. I've got to go try and explain myself. I'll call you after they're done berating my stupid ass."

"At least you're self-aware," she conceded. "Be careful. Call me as soon as you can."

"I will. Be safe, Kam. Bye."

"Bye." She hung up and pocketed the phone, glancing at the dragon by her side currently sniffing flowers. "I told you he drives me crazy. Come along, my dear. Let's go make a dramatic entrance."

~*~

There was no right way to cause an international incident, but Kamala tried to soften the blow of flying a dragon onto the roof of the U.S. Embassy in Tokyo by calling ahead.

As a result, she was greeted by a host of police officers, as well as the consulate she had requested to speak with before her arrival, and they were all gob-smacked to see her dismount the gigantic reptile, who then proceeded to hiss at the small crowd as it formed. Pete didn't attempt to attack anyone, but for her own safety, Kamala borrowed an onlooker's scarf and tied the dragon's jaws shut. With the most dangerous part of the dragon neutralized, the electric air between the officers and the embassy workers calmed and they started coordinating to find a mode of transportation.

The U.S. Embassy of Tokyo was enormous and several stories high, and while she had a hunch she could figure out a way to get Pete inside, Kamala knew it would be a risk to have the dragon around too many strangers at once, so she requested to stay on the roof until help arrived. The arduous task of carefully recounting what she, Jack, and Fujioka had been through—minus a few obviously illegal details—took nearly an hour before it was over. To their credit, their hospitality was clear and professional. They brought her a chair so she could sit with Pete and something for both of them to eat in the meantime.

Naturally, flying over Tokyo to land the dragon had gotten her all over social media and the news no more than five minutes after landing. By the time she finished giving her statement, her phone wouldn't stop ringing with calls from the States, to confirm if she'd seen the dragon, or if she was in fact the one flying it.

After the dust settled, the embassy agreed to transport Pete in a secured unmarked eighteen-wheeler with a police escort that would take them back to the airport. They tried to convince her to leave without Jack and Fujioka, but she staunchly refused, insisting he would call soon with their status. They finally conceded and told her to do a quick press conference in the meantime to clear up the misunderstanding, and to assure the people of Tokyo that they weren't in any danger. She didn't like the idea, but she agreed as long as they got her some medical supplies.

During their time in the cave, Jack had told Kamala as much as he knew about Pete's anatomy. So far, the dragon had stopped shedding since they gave her a dose of the compound that was supposed to combat her rapid growth. Kamala still had two vials left. Based on the ingredients, she was able to combine the second dose with a mild sleeping agent that would make the dragon mellow by the time the press arrived. Nothing would be worse than to have Pete attacking someone on international television, and further perpetuate the myth that dragons were mindless, violent behemoths.

Not long after the drug was administered, Pete settled down on the rooftop with a yawn and Kamala scratched the dragon's chin, whispering, "I'm sorry, girl. I promise I'll make this quick and get you home."

The dragon let out a sleepy growl and closed her eyes, nodding off. Kamala let out a long breath and motioned for the embassy worker to bring the press upstairs. To avoid a full-on media circus, they'd only allowed three news channels to cover it, and so the crowd wasn't too large as they filtered in from the stairwell.

She exchanged brief words with the translator and then they gave her a microphone and some space before counting down to the broadcast.

"Good afternoon," Kamala said. "My name is Dr. Kamala Anjali. As some of you might have already seen, I am one half of the team of scientists at the Massachusetts Institute of Technology who was recently able to bring a living, breathing dragon to life, as the focus of a project intended to repopulate extinct and endangered species. What you see behind me is a specimen known as _varanus lacerto_. This dragon, a female, was spliced with a Komodo dragon and then implanted into the womb of a Komodo dragon. Unfortunately, only about a day after her birth, she was stolen and flown here into the heart of Tokyo, Japan. We've only recently recovered her from the men who stole her, hence my unorthodox arrival here at the United States Embassy in Tokyo. I want to assure everyone that the dragon poses no threat to the citizens of the city. She will return home within the next few hours and will be under careful surveillance by me and my partner, Dr. Rhett Jackson, who is unable to be with us at the moment. It is most important that everyone understand that they aren't in any danger. The men responsible for the dragon's abduction have been identified and will be dealt with in accordance with the law."

Kamala paused, gazing at the dozing reptile. "She may seem strange and unsettling to you, but Pete is quite a remarkable animal. She's capable of so much more than we ever predicted, and that makes her all the more precious to the world. She is worth protecting. Hopefully, we will be able to open whole new worlds of research as we study her biology, habits, and impact on the world around her. These last few days have been..."

She closed her bandaged hand into a fist and took a deep breath to calm herself. "...hectic, but our resolve to pursue this avenue of new research hasn't changed even in the wake of the tragedy in Cambridge. I am grateful to the authorities here and back home who have helped us find justice and right the wrongs that were done to us. We have a long way ahead of us, but I'm confident that we'll be able to accomplish wonders."

As she fell silent, the crowd frothed with questions. A female reporter stepped forward with her own mic, addressing the translator. "What will become of the dragon? Is she returning to the institute, and for how long?"

"Yes, she will be returning there while we monitor her physical characteristics and behavior. Long term, we hope to move her to her own wildlife reservation, where she can continue to grow and live a full life."

"Do you have a lead on who stole the dragon?"

Kamala clenched her teeth briefly. "Yes. My partner, Dr. Jackson, is assisting the authorities with the apprehension of the suspects."

"Can you elaborate on their identities?"

"I'm afraid I can't disclose that information."

"What about the rumors that the Yamaguchi-gumi are involved? Is there any truth to that?"

"No comment."

"What about the shooting in Kabukicho? Witnesses say that a woman matching your description was seen fleeing the scene with the yakuza in pursuit."

"No comment."

"What about the recent destruction of Sugimoto Pharmaceuticals in the Kanagawa prefecture? Was there ever a connection made between Dr. Yagami Sugimoto and the theft of the dragon?"

Kamala handed the mic back to the translator. "No further questions."

The crowd tried to push for more, but the officers formed a semi-circle and started corralling them back into the embassy. Kamala sighed and ran a shaky hand through her dark hair, kneeling beside the dragon and stroking its brow.

"For gods' sake, Jack," she murmured, closing her eyes. "Get your ass back here so we can go home."

~*~

Jack was pretty sure he was going to have a bruise on his forehead soon if he didn't stop smacking his head against the bars of his cell, but it didn't sway him much.

"Stupid, stupid, stupid Jack," he mumbled. "This isn't a movie. In real life, you get thrown into the slammer when you steal people's shit. This is why you're a scientist. You totally suck at being an action hero."

He pushed away from the bars of the holding cell and started pacing, wracking his brain for some sort of distraction to keep from banging his head some more. "Although who the hell would play me in the movie version of this messed up story? Who's tall and thin and dark-haired these days? What's that British guy's name? Tom-something. Higgles? Nah. Higgenbottom? That's not a name, dumbass. Hiddle—"

"Oy," a sharp male voice spoke from behind him. "Let's go."

Jack faced front to see a short, built cop unlocking the cell door.

"So my story checked out after all. What happened?"

The cop gestured with his baton for Jack to go ahead of him in the hallway. "Kirihito-san cracked during interrogation. She admitted to feeding the yakuza information about you. There was also an emergency phone call reported in that same location. They're assembling a SWAT team to head to the farm where you made that phone call."

"Good. So, uh, why the escort then?"

"There is a man on the phone looking for you and making demands. He won't talk to the negotiator. Just you."

"So good to be popular," Jack growled.

Detective Hayasaka and a couple of men from the tech department were waiting for Jack in a small conference room with a phone on the table. It had already been set up to be recorded. They gave him a briefing about the do's and don'ts of hostage negotiation, and assured him they could walk him through how to diffuse the situation. Then they handed the phone to him and he answered the call.

"Dr. Jackson speaking."

"You don't know when to quit, do you?" Okegawa snarled.

"We both have that in common, don't we?"

"If I see even one police vehicle approach this place, I'll splatter Fujioka's brains all over this barn."

Jack exhaled. It didn't calm him down, but it kept him from screaming obscenities. "What do you want?"

"We have already discussed the terms. I want the dragon, and I want it now."

Jack glanced at the negotiator. He gestured for him to continue. "The dragon isn't with me right now. I need time to get her transportation."

"I know where the goddamn dragon is," he spat. "She's all over the news, alongside _ojō-sama_ at the U.S. embassy. They're going to escort the dragon to the airport. She's leaving you behind, Jackson."

Jack frowned and glanced at the detectives. One of them tapped away on his phone and brought up the newscast to confirm it. Jack ran a hand through his hair and tried to think about what to do. "They're not going to leave without me. But I do need time to talk her into it."

"You were given an hour, Jackson. I won't allow you to stall me any longer. Give me the dragon or she dies."

"Alright, look, just... I need to get across town to where they are to make arrangements. I can get there in less than an hour. A deal is still a deal. Don't hurt her and I'll get you what you want."

"You damn well better or her death is on your hands." He hung up.

Jack slammed the phone down on the cradle. "I swear, if I get my hands on him, I'm gonna rip his heart out through his asshole." He glanced at Det. Hayasaka. "What's the plan so far?"

She spoke to the translator. "This might be the opportunity we need. The dragon is too large to fit in a normal vehicle, so he will be expecting you to arrive in an eighteen-wheeler. The SWAT team will hide inside it while you drive. You will wear a wire and act as our spotter to tell us where Fujioka is, if she is indeed still in his custody, and then we'll strike."

"The guy's a career criminal. Won't he see that coming?"

"Most likely, but it still gives us a shot to get her back. We have to take it. However, we need to sweeten the deal. Contact Dr. Anjali and ask her to send you a photo of the dragon after it has been moved into the truck. We'll send that as 'proof' to Okegawa and it might help sell the lie."

"Well, that solves one problem," Jack said. "Now, what about the fact that this guy wants me dead? He'll probably have a sniper on standby to shoot me as soon as I'm within view."

"He told you to come alone. He didn't say you couldn't wear protection. We will provide you with a vest and a helmet."

"What about something to defend myself?"

Det. Hayasaka scowled. Jack sighed. "Fine, fine, gun laws and what have you. Seriously, though, if I get murdered, I'm haunting you first, Detective Sourpuss. Can someone go get me Ken Nakamura's cell phone, please?"

~*~

"You're going to _what?_ "

Jack winced as Kamala's incredulous voice echoed through the borrowed cell phone. "Easy there, Kam. One of my ears is still ringing from that gunshot and I don't need to be deaf in both of them."

"This is beyond reckless, Jack."

"Do you have a better plan? 'Cause I don't and we're running out of time. Even if he is bluffing about still having Fujioka in custody, she's still hurt and alone out there on her own. We need to get her back. Yagami and Watsuki too, if they're still alive."

"There has to be someone more qualified than you. Why can't they send the negotiator?"

"Okegawa said it has to be me. We don't have a choice."

"Damn it, Jack, I..." She fell silent for a few seconds, and he felt a rather large lump climbing up his throat as he heard her voice crack. "I can't lose you again."

He shut his eyes for a second. "You won't. I promise."

"You can't promise that. If you do and you don't come back, I'll spend the rest of my life hating you."

"I'm sorry. There's nothing else we can do, Kam."

"I think that's what makes it worse," she whispered. "Fujioka told you not to come for her. Hell, if we all make it out of this alive, she'll probably kick your ass for playing hero."

He smirked faintly. "Yeah. That's one ass-kicking I won't mind for once."

"What if I came with you? Okegawa doesn't want me dead. He might hesitate."

"I don't get the feeling Detective Sourpuss will go for that. Besides, you're halfway across town and we're on a deadline. No offense, but Human Shield isn't the greatest idea either."

"Stubborn bastard."

"Don't I know it." He took a deep breath as he saw Det. Hayasaka tap her watch. "I have to go. Text me the photo. I'll make it out of this in one piece, Kam."

"You'd better or I'll bring you back to life just so I can kill you again."

"Duly noted, Dr. Anjali. I... I, uh..."

"I know," she said gently. "Me too. Be careful."

"I will. Bye."

"Bye."

He hung up. A few seconds later, an image alert glowed on the cell phone and he opened the attachment to see Pete curled up inside the bed of an eighteen-wheeler. He flashed a thumbs-up to Hayasaka and sent the image to Okegawa's phone saying he was on his way to the farm. The officers brought him the bulletproof vest and helmet, then ushered him inside a similar eighteen-wheeler as the SWAT officers boarded.

Jack squeezed the steering wheel in anticipation and hit the parking brake, then the gas when he was given the okay. Slowly, the giant vehicle coughed and lurched up the road towards the bridge leading out of Tokyo, with police cars out in front to escort them through traffic. Slowly, the fear and apprehension fell away to be replaced with an adrenaline-fear cocktail. He finally quit trying to rationalize either sensation and slapped on his best cocky Han Soloesque grin while muttering the lyrics to "They're Coming to Take Me Away, Haa-Haa," as they drove out of the city and into the line of fire.

# CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

POWDER KEG

"Listen up," Okegawa said over the general murmur of the ten men standing in front of him. "The police are on their way. We have about half an hour before they arrive. You have exactly twenty minutes to find Misaki Fujioka, or I will personally kill you myself and leave your bodies here for them to find instead. After you've found her, my team will intercept Jackson and his pet police before they reach here, and take them out. Scrub this place from top to bottom. I want no evidence for the authorities to find, not one single speck. Dispose of the corpses and vanish. Do you understand me?"

The men grunted in agreement and he flicked a hand to dismiss them. He watched as they spread out, guns up, safeties off, and then eyed the barn Fujioka had escaped from. He knew she couldn't have gone very far, not without someone seeing her, and not with a fresh gunshot wound in her arm, even if it had been bandaged. What would be the most tactical for an ex Special Forces officer? They'd practically torn the place apart with no sign of her. His gut said she was hiding right beneath their noses, waiting for backup to arrive, or for someone to make a fatal mistake.

He returned to the barn since it was where they'd found the body of one of his men. He knelt by her chair and examined her restraints, then slowly followed the ever-so-faint marks in the dirt leading to the door. She'd killed him there, for sure, and then moved the corpse. He glanced at the metal siding of the barn and something caught his peripheral. He stepped closer to one of the windows and grasped a couple of long brown hairs caught in the frame. His gaze snapped to the roof, and he grinned rakishly before withdrawing his Beretta and climbing one-handed to the top of the barn.

He hefted himself over the ledge and took aim.

At absolutely nothing.

" _Chikusho_ ," Okegawa muttered, holstering the gun again. He did a brief sweep and found small droplets of blood confirming that she'd been there at some point, and then swept his gaze around the farm. Tactically speaking, she could make her last stand in the silo, but it was a good forty yards away. How had she managed to get there without being seen?

He climbed down and skulked through the dirt again until he spotted booted footprints, around the same size as hers, heading around the pig pen. She'd used it for cover after his men had passed by, most likely, and then probably bolted for the silo after they were done checking it.

Okegawa went into the external side door and peered all the way up the ladder. The rusted metal interior was empty, and shadows cast across it as the sun had started it's descent on the horizon. If she was up there, she had the advantage. Once he reached the roof hatch, she could blow him to kingdom come and back again. There was no way he could sneak up on her.

Good thing he had a Hail Mary prepared.

So... he climbed.

He had reached the final rung just below the hatch when Fujioka's iron-clad voice spoke from the rooftop of the silo. "That's far enough, boy."

Okegawa clucked his tongue. "I'm not that much younger than you, Fujioka-san. It's bad manners to give me such a moniker."

"Hands up through the hole... _boy_."

He secured his knees on the ladder and stuck his arms up through the hatch.

"Good. Now crawl up slowly. If you even twitch, I'll blow a hole through your arm."

Okegawa obeyed. As he ascended into the daylight again, he caught sight of Fujioka kneeling from ten feet away, her arms poised with the pistol she'd stolen from one of his men, gauntleted in her fist. He knew she had to be in great pain, but her aim was as steady as a rock.

"Take your gun and remove the magazine. Keep the barrel pointed at your chest while you unload it. If you attempt to yell down to your _kyodai_ , I'll blow your head off."

Okegawa snorted. "Usually, when a woman mentions blowing this many times, I get excited."

Still, he did exactly as she said, even jacking the chamber to remove the bullet in the barrel, and held both parts of the gun in his open palms.

"Set them down and kick them across to me." He did. "Good boy. Now, sit cross-legged with your hands in front of you."

"Yes ma'am," he sighed, flopping down on his butt in the hot sun. "How long have you been up here?"

"How long ago did you contact Jack?"

Okegawa just smiled.

Fujioka glared. "I'm in no mood for games, boy. How long?"

"Really, Fujioka-san, this is unnecessary. We both know how this is going to end. Why continue the charade?"

She fired the gun. The bullet punched a hole in the roof a mere inch from his left foot. Okegawa didn't flinch, but the smile disappeared.

"How. Long. Ago."

"Five, ten minutes."

"And you're going to tell your men to intercept them and kill Jack."

" _Hai._ "

"Where did you send Dr. Yagami?"

"Away."

She studied him for a brief, silent moment. "He went willingly. Figures. Once a coward, always a coward, even after what you did to Watsuki."

"It was unavoidable. Watsuki had a one-track mind. There was no scenario where he would have cooperated. He'd have caused more harm than good trying to save Yagi-kun."

"Keep telling yourself that, you sniveling brat," she snarled. "He didn't have to die. You could have knocked him out and left him for the authorities to find. He didn't have enough information to tell the cops where you took us. It was all you. You are nothing more than an emotionally stunted child playing dress up as a gangster. You've gotten away with it for so long that now you think you're invincible. Untouchable. That's fine. Because I'm going to teach you a lesson your _oyabun_ should have taught you long ago."

She leaned forward slightly, her voice a deadly hiss. "Never... _ever_... make it personal."

"How could I not, Fujioka-san? At every turn in this entire debacle, you've made my life harder. I'm sure you don't believe me, but as much as I would love to wring that lovely neck of yours, I have come to respect you quite a lot. You are a challenging woman. I don't meet very many of them in my line of work."

"You think compliments are going to save you?"

"No. It's the truth. Nothing more. That's why I regret the position you and I have found ourselves in right now. We have only a few minutes before the police arrive and complicate our situation with tiresome rhetoric about hostage situations and peaceful resolution. I know how that ends. I'm not going to prison and I'm not going to let you kill me."

She barked out a laugh. "Oh, is that right?"

"I'm afraid so."

Okegawa stuck one finger inside his boot and withdrew a grenade.

Fujioka went utterly still.

"Here is what we will do," he said quietly. "You will throw away the weapon and come with me. We will leave this place. Once Jackson is dead and I have disappeared, you will be released. You may spend the rest of your life trying to find me and kill me... or you can die right here with me on this rooftop."

"You're bluffing," she growled. "You're a vain errand boy. You don't have the balls to kill yourself. Not for a dragon, and not even to avoid prison."

"Are you certain, Fujioka-san? One hundred percent certain? Because you should be before you take such a gamble."

"What do you think I have left to live for, boy? What makes you think I won't pull this trigger and send us both to the other world?"

Okegawa offered her a faint smile. "I told you once that you are made of steel, but that isn't every part of you. I know that some small corner of the woman before me wants to make it out of this alive, if only to see Jackson and _ojō-sama_ again. You may have lost your dreams, but they haven't. They cling to them, blindly, foolishly, hopelessly, the way you did once. Why else have you put yourself at such risk to protect them?"

She couldn't answer that, and it was a bitter taste on her tongue.

"So, what is your decision, Fujioka-san?"

~*~

A couple of miles away from the farm, the police cars escorting Jack split off and stayed behind to block off the road and set up a perimeter for the hostage situation. As always, Jack took it extremely well.

"When's Admiral Ackbar when you need him?" he grumbled under his breath. "What the hell was I thinking? Should have gotten on the damn plane with Kamala and Pete." He glanced out the window sourly at the landscape. "Y'hear that, Japan? Kiss my lily white American ass!"

The link in his ear beeped and the negotiator spoke. "Did you say something, Dr. Jackson?"

"Oh, nothing. I'm just regretting my life choices and cursing your homeland because I don't know how to emotionally cope with my imminent demise."

"...I see."

Jack sighed to himself and kept driving. "Nobody gets me."

The eighteen-wheeler climbed around a steep, winding curve in the road. Jack stomped on the brakes as it reached the top of the hill. The trailer groaned in protest of the upward angle, so he shifted into Park and spoke into his wire.

"Uh. Base?"

"What is it, Dr. Jackson? Incoming?"

Jack gulped. "Incoming is a bit of an understatement. What's, uh, what's Plan B?"

"Plan B? Why do we need a Plan B?"

"Because they've got an RPG."

Silence.

Then, "EVERYONE OUT OF THE TRUCK NOW!"

Jack threw open the truck's passenger door and leapt into the street, rolling completely off of it and into a ditch as the yakuza fired a grenade right at the front of the truck. He heard the screech of the trailer's doors opening and boots pounding the pavement, and then the entire world erupted into fire. He clamped his hands down over his face and neck as burning metal and glass scattered in all directions on the road above him and rained down the ditch. White noise screamed in his ears. He stayed put for several paralyzing seconds and then coughed smoke out of his lungs, groaning in the back of his throat from the pain of his abrupt exit.

"God, I'm so gonna get tinnitus," Jack mumbled drunkenly as he poked his head out from the ditch to see the resulting chaos. The truck was completely blown open like someone cracked an egg in half, and the trailer had two-thirds of the top missing. Flames licked up and down the remains of the vehicle, curling the metal back like a morbid black flower. There was too much smoke to see if any of the SWAT team was still inside the trailer, but he hoped they'd all gotten out.

Three yakuza were perched at the apex of the hill with a car parked sideways, blocking the road that led up to the farm. They were high-fiving each other and getting ready to load another shot like giddy teenagers playing _Grand Theft Auto V_. Jack seethed and crawled to one side of the ditch. Ears ringing, he found one unconscious SWAT guy and muttered an apology as he unholstered the man's weapon before scrambling back towards his spot.

He took a second peek to find the three yakuza walking towards the truck to see who was left alive. Jack shook his head hard, trying to knock the twinkling stars and fuzzy spots out of his vision, and waited for the right opportunity.

The men exchanged scathing words with each other after checking the back of the truck. Jack could tell there were at least a couple of survivors. The man holding the grenade launcher sneered and backed away to take another shot and finish them off.

Jack smiled.

And aimed at the man's right foot.

Just as the man pulled down on the trigger, Jack shot him.

The man screamed in pain and the barrel of the grenade launcher pitched down in the direction of his foot.

And blew all three yakuza into sky-high meaty chunks.

Jack coughed more smoke out of his lungs and dragged the unconscious SWAT guy out of the ditch before flopping down next to him in the street to catch his breath. After he could breathe evenly again, he hobbled over to the back of the truck to find three of the officers badly hurt, but still alive. He helped them out one by one and fortunately, the other two officers had been thrown clear of the blast down the nearby hill, and they caught up to him a moment later.

"Can you still reach base?" Jack asked, gesturing with his busted ear piece. One of them nodded. "Give them a sit-rep and keep an eye on these guys. I'm going after Fujioka."

The other SWAT officer grabbed his arm. "You can't go up there. We need to wait for backup."

"They just tried to kill us. There's no negotiation anymore. That means Fujioka's as good as dead if we don't help her."

"We don't have the manpower."

"Then we'll have to be enough."

"You're a civilian on foreign soil, Dr. Jackson. We can't let you go up there with us to fight."

Jack stuck a pinky in his still-ringing ear. "Wait. Maybe I can't hear through the concussion, but did you just say 'let me go up there' after I literally saved your life just now?"

The officer scowled deeply. Jack glared. "You're going to have to arrest me, then. I'm not sitting on my ass and waiting for backup."

"That's precisely what you're going to do. Stay with the wounded until the patrol cars at the barricade get here. We'll go after Fujioka-san. Base said they've got a chopper on the way. ETA less than ten minutes. They'll get you and Fujioka-san to safety afterward." He shoved a finger into Jack's bulletproofed chest. "Do _not_ leave this spot. If you do, I will make sure you're brought up on charges. You did your job, Dr. Jackson. Let us do ours."

Jack gritted his teeth as he felt his temper curling around him like boiling mist. He wanted to argue, but everything the officer had said was completely true. He shut his eyes for a moment and attacked the problem logically. He had no skillset to rescue Fujioka other than an insanely low sense of self-preservation, amateur sharpshooting, and a mad-on for Okegawa. He'd do nothing but get in their way.

"Fine," he growled. "But I'm keeping the gun."

The officer grunted in consent. "Keep an eye on the wounded, but stay out of sight. We don't know if there are any more of them in the area. Understand?"

"Got it. Now go save my friend."

The officer nodded curtly and then signaled his partner. The two started up the hill, guns raised, covering each other. Jack watched them go and suppressed the irrational rage-beast currently pounding its paws on its chest and demanding that he follow them. Instead, he checked on the condition of the remaining men and then carefully lined them up along the other side of the hill, safely out of sight and beyond the burning truck. Not long afterward, the officers who were blocking the lower part of the road drove up with an ambulance and started helping the wounded officers.

Fortunately, one of them allowed him to sit in one of the patrol cars to monitor the ongoing raid over the radio. So far, the officers managed to approach the grounds with no one in sight, as if the place had already been abandoned. Jack's gut tightened into a painful knot as he listened to the brief interspersed words from the SWAT members.

Shots echoed sharply through the receiver. Jack flinched, holding his breath until he heard the SWAT officer speak when it went quiet.

"Three suspects down in the front yard. No blockade. I see smoke in the distance... the top half of the silo is on fire. It's damaged, like maybe there was an explosion. We're approaching the main area of the grounds."

"Any sign of the captive?" The negotiator asked over the radio.

"None yet. We'll do a sweep building by building. What's the ETA on the chopper?"

"Five minutes and closing. Ambulance is on standby for the wounded."

Jack started pacing beside the car, listening to the faint footsteps and rustling of cloth as the men infiltrated the facility. A few minutes later, the officer's voice cut in again. "It appears as if the remainder of the suspects fled the grounds. We're approaching the silo."

Silence. Jack shut his eyes and prayed for the first time in years.

"We've got a body here."

He held his breath. "Male. There was definitely some kind of explosion. He's got severe burns, shrapnel wounds, possible fall damage, and his arm's blown off at the elbow. Holy shit. He's... still alive! Kisuke-san, give him some First Aid while I check inside."

A wrenching sound, like a metal door creaking open. Coughing. "The roof's gone, but the internal integrity of the silo is still intact. Don't think there's anyone inside, but..."

Heavy breathing. Footsteps on ladder rungs. Soft cursing. "Someone's down there in the grain."

Jack ran his hands through his messy hair and steepled them over his lips, his breath light and fast, his head pounding between the pain from the concussion and the horrible wait for confirmation.

More rustling, then a slight hissing sound, as if he'd landed in the remains of the grain. "It's Fujioka. She's... god, she's in pretty bad shape. Send the ambulance up."

"Is she alive?"

Silence. "She's breathing."

Jack let out a shaky gasp of air. "Oh, thank Christ."

"I've got her now. Wait..." Movement. Then a weak female voice slithered through the radio waves.

"Took your fucking time, didn't you?"

~*~

Twenty minutes later, Jack sat in the back of an ambulance with Fujioka on a stretcher as it rumbled its way to the nearest hospital. She had lacerations and second degree burns underneath the bandages adorning her arm, neck, shoulder, and side, and her face was smudged with ash and reddened on one side, but she was alive. He kept repeating it inside his head in a mantra just to keep himself sane.

"You're staring," she croaked without opening her eyes.

"Can't help it," he said. "Thought I'd never see you again."

She snorted. "Pussy."

Jack laughed hoarsely and took her hand, wrapping his long fingers around hers and kissing the back of them. "Yeah, maybe, compared to you. What the hell happened up there?"

"Okegawa thought he could play chicken with me. He was wrong."

"Obviously."

She opened her dark eyes enough to send him a searching look. "Where's Kamala?"

"She's safe. Waiting for me at the embassy."

"Good girl. What about the dragon?"

"She's with Kamala."

"Great. Now, get the hell out of Tokyo."

He lifted his eyebrows. "What? And just leave you here after what you've been through?"

Fujioka rolled her eyes. "Yes, Jack, that's the idea. I fulfilled my contract. I protected you and you got your dragon back. We won. Time to go home."

"Misaki," he murmured. "Don't do this again. Don't cut and run after what just happened. It's not the end of the world if I stay an extra day with you."

"What purpose would it even serve, Jack?"

"You're my friend. You're hurt. You just survived an explosion, for God's sake. You shouldn't be alone."

"It'll be a media circus once this hits the news. Trust me, I won't be alone."

Jack went silent for a while. "I killed a few people today."

Fujioka shut her eyes, visibly hiding a reaction. "I figured you might have to. I'm sorry. I wish I could have spared you that. It's not a weight I ever wanted you to carry."

He shrugged. "I'm sort of numb about it right now. I suppose it'll all sink in later."

"It was self-defense, Jack."

"I know. Doesn't make it okay."

"No one said it was okay. But it was them or you. You did it to protect those you care about. Speaking of which—"

"Oh, can it," he said with a huff. "I told Kamala I love her. Happy?"

Fujioka smirked. "Did you, now? And what was her answer?"

"She needs time to think. Understandable. I blurted it out when I thought we were gonna die. Figured she deserved to know."

"You should have listened to me and told her earlier, _bakayarou_."

He rolled his eyes. "Yes, the almighty Misaki is always right."

"Damn straight. And don't overthink it. She needs time because you're important to her. She doesn't want to do anything rash. Nobody can say no to those big puppy eyes." She brushed a stray lock of hair away from his brow.

"Except you."

She cupped his face gently in her hand. "Except me. But we both know why, don't we?"

"Yeah."

Her eyes were suddenly wet. "I miss him."

Jack linked their fingers again. "I know. I'm sure he misses you too, wherever he is."

She closed her eyes. Tears fell. Jack slid beside her, until he was close enough to kiss her forehead. He held her hand and murmured that everything would be alright. It was a little white lie. What harm could it do?

~*~

Jack had seen a lot of beautiful things in his lifetime, but he swore that seeing Kamala walk around the corner of the hospital hallway after what they'd both survived, took the cake. Possibly because the second she laid eyes on him, her entire lovely face lit up with relief, pride, and affection. Possibly because she raced down the hall and leapt into his arms. Possibly because her arms squeezed him so tight that he saw stars. Endless possibilities.

"Useless," she mumbled into his neck. "So useless, Jack."

"The most useless," he confirmed, giving her a little squeeze of his own. "I'm going to set a world record soon."

He was loathed to do it, but he put her down a moment later and kissed her forehead, rubbing her shoulders. "But I'm in one piece, as promised, so you're not allowed to unceremoniously murder and resurrect me."

"For now," she said, and then glanced at the hospital room. "How is Fujioka?"

Jack winced. "She's... I think she's in more pain than she'll let on, but that's how she always is. I'm sure the doctors will be happy to relay the extent of her injuries, but from what I understand, they're trying to figure out how badly damaged her spine is from the fall. She was on top of the silo when the grenade blew. Apparently, she shot it out of Okegawa's hand and it fell down the shaft of the silo. He tried to grab for it, but that's when it blew and the roof caved in. She grabbed the ladder on the way down and it dislocated her left arm, but it slowed the fall."

"Gods," Kamala whispered. "Paralysis?"

"Possibly. She still has feeling in her legs, but the swelling in her spinal cord is severe. They won't know until they can get all her tests done."

Kamala nodded. "Then we will stay until it's all determined. Pete is safe. The yakuza can't touch her, not with the protection of the embassy. We'll leave as soon as we know she's going to be alright."

"Woman's made of steel," he said with a weak smile. "She'll pull through. But... that's unfortunately not the rest of the story."

He took a deep breath. "Okegawa survived."

Kamala's eyes went wide. "What? I thought you said the grenade went off."

"It did. I guess the bastard's got a fallen angel looking out for him. He just got out of surgery."

She clenched her hands into fists. "What's the prognosis?"

"Well, so far, he's comatose. They won't tell me much more than that. I figured you'd be able to coax it out of them."

"I'll see what I can do. And what of Yagami and Watsuki?"

Jack winced again. "Yagami's in the wind again. And Watsuki didn't make it."

She sighed. "Damn it all. Two steps forward, two steps back."

"Ain't that the truth? Alright, let's start putting out fires. I'll call our families and let them know we're all okay. You see what you can stir up on Okegawa."

"Give them all my love." She gave him a peck on the cheek and then headed for the nurse's station.

~*~

Her plan turned out to be slightly easier to execute than she predicted.

Step one: buy two coffees.

Step two: visit a nearby gas station and buy a dissolvable laxative.

Step three: treat the two officers guarding the room to free coffee and thank them graciously for their service.

Step four: wait until one has left and the other is at the nurse's station, flirting, while he waits to use the restroom himself.

Step five: wait until the area has no witnesses.

Step six: slip inside the room.

That was how Kamala came to find herself alone standing in front of the comatose Kazuma Okegawa.

Clutching an empty syringe in her fist.

She stepped closer to his bed, her feet almost silent on the linoleum, watching the cloud of mist that filled his breathing mask and the steady puff of the ventilator, as well as the staggered red and green lines of the heart monitor. She didn't have long. Just enough time to make a decision.

"I've read quite a bit of literature on the statistical likelihood that comatose victims can hear the words of those around them," Kamala said quietly as she came to stand at the head of the bed. "So, it's unlikely that you can hear me, but for the sake of argument, let's say that you can."

She placed her hands on the metal bar where his intact left arm was handcuffed to, the syringe clicking against it as she did.

"The woman who saved my life is in this hospital, a few rooms over from us. It's possible that she may never walk again. If she makes a full recovery, even then, she will never have the same mobility that she did before. Even if every broken nerve heals and every scar fades away, Misaki Fujioka will never be the same woman that she was before she involved herself with us. So, in some respect, this is the fault of the four of us: Jack, Fujioka, me... and you."

Her lids lowered over her eyes as she stared into Okegawa's motionless, swollen face. "There is no one here to save you. I can end your life right now. I'm already damaged. I have already prayed for my soul's deliverance for the sin of taking another life. You forced me to do things that I would previously consider unimaginable. It would not only be just if I were to kill you, but it would bring me a pleasure that I simply cannot find words to describe."

She leaned over the bed until their faces were inches apart. "You have taken an innumerable amount of innocent lives. You have ruined countless futures. You have caused endless suffering. The world would not miss you. No one would mourn your passing. Even if I am caught and sentenced for my crime, I feel as if it would be worth it knowing that I wiped your miserable existence from this world, so that you will be reincarnated as the worthless flea that you are in the next life."

She let her gaze rake over him. "However, in doing so, I would become no better than you. I would be taking the law into my own hands, and I respect this country and its justice system. The people you have hurt deserves to see you tried for your crimes. Death is the easy way out for you. I'm sure you knew that when you threatened Misaki-san."

Kamala held up the syringe at his unblinking eye level. "Do you see this? If the gods are fortunate enough to allow you to wake from this coma and resume faculties over your body, then there is one thing you need to understand. If you ever come for me and my loved ones again, then this is the syringe that I will use to end your life."

Then she turned and slipped out of the room, silent as a shadow.

~*~

Kamala had been wrong.

Jack _did_ snore.

She stifled a chuckle as she listened to the _'snaaarrrr'_ noise that exited his nostrils on every odd breath, shaking her head. She grabbed a large cotton blanket from a nearby empty bed and draped it over his enormous, limp form in the chair by the door. He didn't stir, not even after she sifted her fingers through his unkempt hair to smooth it down.

"He only does that when he sleeps sitting up," Fujioka said in a worn-out tone.

"I noticed," Kamala said, taking a seat next to the hospital bed. "Though I've certainly heard worse. My last ex snored like a freight train. It was a compelling reason to break up with him."

Fujioka snorted. "A pillow over the face will clear that right up."

Kamala laughed lightly. "True. Are you comfortable?"

The bodyguard waggled the button in her right hand. "Oh, believe me, that's an understatement. Spine injuries mean you get the good stuff. I'm on Pluto right now."

"Good. Let me know if I need to call someone in for you."

"Nonsense. What about you? How on earth did you escape this entire debacle with only a bruised hand? Do you know something we don't?"

"Clearly."

The two women fell silent, smiling faintly at each other. Kamala folded her hands. "Did the doctors explain everything?"

"For the most part," Fujioka said with a sigh. "They're trying to be positive about it. We won't know for a while what the outlook will be."

Kamala took a deep, trembling breath and pressed her clasped hands to her forehead. "I'm so sorry, Misaki."

"It was my choice," Fujioka said. Her voice couldn't have been firmer if it were carved out of diamond. "Mine and mine alone. I don't regret it. I am my own."

"I know, but... what they've taken from you... I can't begin to imagine how you must feel."

Fujioka shrugged a bit. "I've always been good at rolling with the punches. And the bastard who did this to me might have actually had a point."

Kamala lowered her hands enough to look at her. "What?"

"Okegawa dug up old wounds. I didn't realize how raw the pain still was until he rubbed salt into it. I wasn't just fighting for the two of you. In some ways, I was fighting for myself, for what I lost before any of this began. Maybe that's why it would be easier to accept where I ended up. I chose this path. I could have walked away long ago, and I didn't, because of the injustice of it all. I wanted you to have closure the way I never got mine."

Kamala's fingers closed over Fujioka's, and the older woman didn't pull away. "You don't have to—"

"I was married once. He was an idiot, but he was my idiot." Fujioka nodded towards Jack. "A lot like that one over there. That's why it struck such a nerve, the week we spent together. It was almost like having Kyōya with me again. His death happened so suddenly that I don't think I ever truly dealt with it until now. Perhaps it's all for the best. I have to face who I am and who I will allow myself to become."

She met Kamala's eyes. "For a second, I gave in. I thought about giving Jack up when Okegawa offered to find my husband's killer. And that showed me more about myself than I ever realized. It's easy to bury the pain. Easier than it should be. And I don't want that to happen to you."

She tightened her grip on Kamala's hand. "I know what happened is unbearable, but you must face it. Talk to someone about it. Even if it isn't Jack, you need to accept it before it's too late and you let it fester. Taking a life can change you."

"It already has," Kamala murmured. "I can't go back to who I was before."

"No. You can't. But you can heal. Someday."

Kamala nodded. "I will... try my best."

"Good girl." Fujioka exhaled and glanced at the clock. "Go check your flight times. I'm not going anywhere, but you've got places to be."

"Misaki—"

"Don't make me climb out of this bed and kick your ass."

Kamala sighed and shook her head as she rose to her feet. "Unbelievable. Brahma help the poor soul who will be in charge of your recovery."

"Damn right."

A few hours later, after Jack and Kamala had gotten a minimal amount of rest in Fujioka's room, their travel plans were in place, Pete included, and they said their goodbyes.

Jack stooped over Fujioka's bed and kissed her forehead. "Stay out of trouble."

"Never," she said, grinning, and patted his cheek playfully. "My bill will be in the mail."

"Oh, come on," Jack protested, pointing to the sling his arm was finally in again. "I got shot. Isn't that the definition of you failing at your job?"

Fujioka rolled her eyes. "Fine. I'll knock off five-hundred."

Jack palmed his face. "I hate you _so much_."

That made her laugh. "Big boys don't cry, Jack."

"Yeah, but my bank account does. You'll get your payment after I'm stateside. Fair enough?"

"Fair enough." She beckoned him closer. He sent her a suspicious look, but bent in anyway.

"Lover," she whispered in his ear.

He froze. "What?"

"That's what _koibito_ means."

He relaxed into a fond smile. "Bartholomew."

She arched an eyebrow and he blushed. "Hey, don't look at me. It was my Dad's idea."

"You never had a chance. Take care, Bartholomew."

He winked as he stood to full height and let Kamala sweep past him. The short scientist gave Fujioka a one-armed hug. "Thank you for everything, Misaki. We'll be in touch. Please keep us posted."

"Will do. I'll invoice you the medical bills."

Kamala pulled away. "Well, I come from a family of doctors. I think I can do something about that."

"That's what I like to hear." The playful tone faded. Fujioka's gaze softened on the pair.

"Take care of yourselves, huh?"

Kamala's hand found Jack's after he opened the door.

"We will."

# CHAPTER NINETEEN

EQUILIBRIUM

"Wow," Jack muttered, staring at the assembly waiting beyond the check-in gate at Logan International Airport. "Kam, I think we might be popular."

To the rear of the crowd were members of the press all packed together like a school of fish, prepping themselves to go live, while others were already live and frantic as soon as the two scientists were in sight. In front of them stood a group of Jack and Kamala's MIT compatriots—students, fellow post-docs, teachers, and general campus fans. They had "welcome home" signs boasting the school's burgundy and grey colors as well as illustrations of Pete. The most important people, of course, were at the head of the throng: Faye, Edie, Richard, Daeshim, and Sahana, all equally apprehensive, but joyful as the pair arrived.

A great roar of a cheer split the air and applause soon followed. The cheering spread as other traveling patrons realized who they were and joined in. Thoroughly embarrassed and humbled, Jack and Kamala put their luggage down and hurried forward to greet their loved ones.

Edie enveloped her son in a rib-cracking hug and buried her face in his chest. "You idiot. I told you to take care of yourself."

Jack kissed the top of her head. "Hey, I tried. You have to give me an A for effort, right?"

She eventually let go and Jack wiped the tears from her cheeks with his free hand, smiling reassuringly. "I'm still in one piece, Ma. Besides, what's one more scar?"

"You have more than enough, Rhett. More than you deserve." Her eyes hardened a touch when Richard stepped forward. Jack stiffened a bit, expecting the usual strained greeting, but to his surprise, his father drew him into a hug as well.

"Welcome home," he said. "I'm glad you're alright."

"Thanks," Jack replied, unable to keep the befuddled look off his face.

When he stepped away, Richard gripped his son's cheek and met his gaze without flinching. "That was a brave thing you did. Foolish, but brave. I know I don't exactly show it a lot, but I'm proud of you, son. And I'm glad you're safe."

Jack glanced between the two of them and nodded gently, still shell-shocked. "Uh, thanks. Really. I'm glad to hear you say that. I know this whole thing has been hard on you both and I appreciate you coming all the way out here again. Once we're done with the press, I'll meet you for dinner."

"Oh, I'm not letting you out of my sight," Edie said fiercely. "I'm taking you home."

Jack arched an eyebrow. "I'm not going home. We have to get Pete situated. I probably won't see my apartment for a whole day with what we need to get done."

"Fine, then I'll drive you to campus."

Jack snorted and shook his head. "This is as bad as when I broke my arm. You're going to stick to me like glue, huh?"

"Damn right I am."

He gave her a one-armed hug. "Who am I to argue with the Boss?"

"Oh, my little flower," Sahana sighed, squeezing her daughter tightly. "I was so worried about you. Are you alright?"

"I'm fine," Kamala said, drawing back. "Barely a scratch on me."

Sahana lifted her daughter's bandaged hand and frowned. "What is this?"

"Mother, you don't fly to Tokyo to steal your dragon back from the yakuza and emerge completely unscathed. This is nothing. Jack was shot, for gods' sake."

Daeshim hugged her next. "What if it had been you? We saw the chaos that erupted there in your wake. Do you realize how fortunate you are to still be alive?"

"Of course, Papa. We were as careful as we could be. Please don't fret. Everything will be alright. I'll tell you all about it later tonight, okay?"

He sighed and kissed the top of her head. "Very well, _beti_."

Jack and Kamala stepped away to make room for Faye, who seemed uncharacteristically stoic considering the circumstances. Kamala broke first and hugged her best friend. No words necessary.

Jack stood by, smiling softly at the pair, until Faye shot him a look. "What's the matter with you? Get in here."

He chuckled and leaned into the embrace. "Missed you too."

"Don't ruin the moment, Lurch."

She let go a few seconds later, scowling a bit. "I guess it's time for you to address these jackals so we can get the hell out of here and check on Pete."

"The sooner the better," Kamala agreed. She glanced up at Jack. "Statement only. Don't take any questions or they'll never let us out of here."

"Roger that." He shifted uneasily. "Are you sure you don't want to do it?"

"Once was enough for me, thanks."

"I don't blame you." Jack stepped into the semi-circle of reporters and cameramen, self-consciously smoothing his hair down before clearing his throat. "Ladies and gentlemen, I'm sure by your annoyingly invasive presence that you already know who I am, but I'll state it for the record anyway. My name is Dr. Rhett Jackson and this is Dr. Kamala Anjali. If you've been following the news, you know that we were able to develop a scientific method that produced the first living, breathing dragon since the 15th century. A few days ago, this dragon was stolen and shipped overseas to Japan by a criminal organization, with an agenda to possibly replicate our method illegally for their own profit. With the hard work and dedication of Misaki Fujioka, we managed to recover the dragon and return her safely to Cambridge, where we intend to continue studying her and hopefully get our project back on track, and expand to other extinct or endangered species."

Jack paused thoughtfully. "It wasn't an easy journey, as I'm sure a lot of you know. We've suffered losses, namely Detective Colin Stubbs, who was killed in the line of duty apprehending the prime suspect, and his partner Julio Faraday who was injured while protecting him. I myself am sporting a gunshot wound in my arm, and one of my dearest friends is in the hospital recovering from the encounter. I want to make one thing perfectly clear. It would be easy for the media to paint us as heroes, as courageous underdogs who decided not to roll over and play dead when someone kicked in our doors and stole our dragon. That's not what happened. We made this decision not because it made the most sense—hell, if that were the case, we'd have cut our losses and started working on another clutch of dragon eggs. We went after our dragon because Dr. Anjali and I were both in agreement that the exploitation of dragons would not become the precedent for their possible existence in the future. Dragons have already seen centuries' worth of abuse at the hands of the ignorant, the spiteful, and the greedy. They are more than prizes, more than mindless brutes to be hunted for sport or dissected in a lab. All that we want to gain from this scientific breakthrough is to give them a second chance at existence, one that is fair and regulated properly so that these animals can be enjoyed by the people who have been inspired and captivated by them for decades. We believe in the dragons, but more than that, we believe that the world deserves the opportunity to truly understand them instead of using them. Pete is a remarkable dragon, and she is worth fighting for. Hopefully, you'll all be able to see her worth and the importance of wildlife conservation, as we continue to move forward with this new technology and methodology. To all those who supported us, we are eternally grateful. Thank you."

The crowd rippled with applause. Jack, Kamala, and their loved ones pushed forward towards the exit. The press tried to close in, but by then, security converged to kick them out of the already busy lobby.

"I'll meet you there," Jack told Kamala. "Drive safe."

"You too."

"My car's over here," Edie said, pointing to a silver rental car parked in the temporary pickup space. He followed and started to open the rear passenger's seat, but then Richard didn't enter the car and he paused. "Dad?"

"I'm right behind you," his father said, and kept walking until he reached a dark blue SUV two spaces down before climbing in. Jack blinked at that. Several times. Then he switched to the front passenger's seat and buckled up. Edie shooed the remaining press away and pulled out of the space and they left the airport.

Jack drummed his fingers on his knees awkwardly for a few minutes into the ride before finally cracking. "So, uh, what was that about?"

"What was what about?" Edie asked in a calm, even voice.

"The whole separate cars thing. I thought you both came up here together."

She didn't answer. Jack sent a furtive glance over at her expressionless face. "Ma?"

She sighed very softly. "Your father and I... are having some problems."

"Problems? Since when do problems require that you ride in two completely different vehicles to visit me?"

Edie kept her eyes on the road. "We had a knockdown-drag-out fight after you left for Tokyo. We haven't reconciled yet."

Jack palmed his face. "Ma, come on. I'm an adult. You can't let the stupid shit—"

"Language," she reminded him.

"—crap I do interfere with your marriage. You both know I'm two bricks shy of a load. Why would you let that get between you?"

"It wasn't just about Tokyo."

"Then what, Ma? Anything I've done to upset you isn't worth the two of you being unhappy."

She flexed her hands on the wheel, her voice careful and quiet. "When we started arguing, I asked him why he's always given you the cold shoulder and why he keeps treating you like you're the redheaded stepchild. He told me he was frustrated that you never listened to him when he was trying to do what's best for you. I told him he doesn't always know best and you need to be your own man, and the only way you can do that is with his whole support. We argued about what that support was supposed to entail, and somewhere in the middle of it, I realized that it was more than just resentment between you two. I started thinking about when your dynamics first changed and it was right around your early high school years when you started shutting us both out."

Jack paled. She continued. "I remember when I came to the hospital after you broke your arm, and you were so quiet. You were in so much pain, but you just told me the same thing over and over again. 'It's alright, Ma. I fell. I just fell. I'll be okay.' And I took you at your word because I was so overwhelmed that my baby was hurt and I only focused on making you feel better. I didn't ask any questions. I didn't see any signs. Until this week, when Richard and I started that fight. I know you. You're my son. And your behavior changed completely after you broke your arm. I always thought it was just the trauma of finding out you weren't invincible, but it wasn't. So, I asked Richard if he hurt you."

She swallowed hard. Jack wasn't looking directly at her, but he could see that her eyes were wet. "He said he would never hurt you. I've been married to your father going on thirty years. I can always tell when he's lying. So, I left the hotel room and got my own car and we've been separated for about a day now."

"Christ," Jack murmured hoarsely. "Ma..."

She shook her head. "Don't lie to me, Rhett. You've been doing that already for over ten years, I won't tolerate any more of it."

"I..." He took a deep breath to stabilize his voice. "I didn't ever want you to go through something like that, to lose what you had with Dad. Maybe I just thought it was the lesser of two evils when I decided not to tell you. So did he. It wasn't like he was trying to hurt me. It was an accident. An honest-to-God accident."

"Rhett, it's not about the accident," she said, her hazel eyes glinting in the sunlight. "It's about the fact that he was teaching you to fight right underneath my nose. He was forcing you to be someone you aren't. You're a good man, Rhett. You're kind and sweet and loyal and a thousand times the person you ever thought you could be when you were just a shy little bookworm. And he took that from you by forcing you to be someone he wanted you to be. Not everyone is a fighter. Not everyone needs to be. He put a wedge between all three of us that day, and I don't think I have it in me to ever forgive him for that."

"But it wasn't all on him. I could have told you at any time. I was a coward. I started acting out because I was too chicken to tell you the truth, because I didn't want to be responsible for the two of you breaking up. I had a good home. I couldn't tear it apart. You don't deserve that."

"Honey, it's not about what I deserve. It's about what's fair. It's about what's right. I know you didn't want to see me hurt, but you took that pain for me instead. I'm your mother. I'm supposed to be strong for you, not the other way around. If he hurt you, then it's my job to do something about it and to make sure it never happens again."

"It won't."

She shook her head again. "It's not that simple."

Jack ran both hands through his hair and massaged his forehead. A stress headache pounded in rhythm to his frantic heartbeat. "Would you at least consider a marriage counselor?"

"Maybe. I need to stop being angry first."

Jack snorted. "I don't know. If I can figure out a way to let it go, I'm sure you can. You're not the walking nitroglycerine of the three of us."

"Like I said before, it's not about that. Whether it was your decision or not, he went along with it. He let you lie to me for nearly half of your life and he kept it to himself as well. It makes me wonder what else he's lied to me about, and if I can ever trust him with the truth again."

"You know him better than that, Ma."

"I should. But I don't."

"I'm sorry."

She smiled sadly at him. "I know, honey. I'm sorry too."

Jack rested his hand over hers on the shift stick. "It's gonna be alright. No matter what happens. We can get through this together. I promise not to shut you out ever again."

"Thanks, kiddo. You were always the bravest one in our family."

Jack returned her sad smile. "I learned from the best."

~*~

After six solid hours of documenting Pete's overall anatomy and welfare, compiling the data in congruence with their research grant, juggling interviews with the local news, coordinating arrangements with the MIT veterinarian staff, and setting tentative dates for appearances on various talk shows and TV channels, Jack and Kamala were relieved to shut themselves inside a lab to finish up the day's work. By now, Jack had drunk seven cups of coffee and hefelt like it would be a good investment to steal an IV bag from a hospital and just shoot the espresso straight into his bloodstream. Between the jet lag and the grueling amount of work they'd put in, he was sure he'd drop dead without the amount of caffeine he'd ingested.

His weary eyes were trained on his laptop screen until a cardboard coffee cup floated into his vision. He blinked to refocus his gaze and found Kamala holding up his usual Starbucks order: _venti_ Pike's with a shot of espresso, cream, no sugar.

"You are an angel," Jack sighed, accepting the coffee and taking a sip. He didn't even flinch as the lava-hot coffee slid down his tongue and renewed his energy supply for the next few hours.

"Flatterer," Kamala said, sitting down beside him and pushing an additional small paper bag next to his computer. He opened it to find a brownie and his eyes rolled back in delight.

"Marry me."

She chuckled and sipped her own caramel cappuccino. "Down, boy."

He ate the brownie in one huge bite before wiping his hands off and returning to work. They continued on in friendly silence for a while before Jack spoke again. "So, how mad are your parents?"

"Furious," Kamala said wearily. "We didn't talk the whole time they drove me here. I suspect they're winding up for the mother of all lectures for dinner tonight."

Jack shifted in his seat uncomfortably. "If you want, I could—"

"It would only make it worse."

Jack frowned. "How would owning up to my own boneheaded decision make it worse?"

"They already think that you make decisions for me. If you apologized, it would confirm it for them. Trust me, it's nothing I can't handle. It comes from a good place, it's just..." She rubbed her face with both hands and smoothed her dark hair back. "They don't understand what Pete means to me. They think she's just an animal. They think I risked my life for nothing, that I was just being impetuous and rebellious instead of taking responsibility for the life I helped create. I don't know if they'll ever truly understand it, to be honest."

"They will in time," he said gently. "Especially after we get the ball rolling on the next level of the project and we expand the species that are born through our method. It's probably harder for them to see it when it's just one dragon than if we had multiple species."

Kamala nodded. "Even so, I admit I'm already getting tired of explaining my choices to them. I've been following orders my whole life. They expect me to fall in line, and now that I won't, it's driving them crazy."

Jack studied her for a long moment. "So... did you actually want to become a doctor or did you let them guide you into that path?"

"I wish I had an easy answer for that. I don't know. I enjoy the work. I'm good at it. I want to help people. I always have and I always will. But I don't know if that had always been my dream. It's been so long since I had the time to think about myself. Sometimes I think that my life isn't about what I want; rather what needs to be done for the greater good. Perhaps, that more than anything else, is what pushed me to fight so hard for Pete."

"Are you happy?"

She blinked at him, surprised. His tone was careful, as if he were guarding himself from the answer. "You can be honest with me. I don't want you to feel like you can't be, even after what happened in the cave."

She shook her head. "You are a brilliant man, but you can be so silly sometimes."

"Huh?"

"Of course I'm happy, Jack. I love what I do—what we do. Even if the way that I got here isn't what I pictured, our work makes me feel fulfilled. It gives me a purpose I wouldn't have found otherwise."

Something tight in Jack's chest eased. "Glad to hear it. Let's get the last of this all squared away so we can go home."

"Did they fix the door to your apartment?"

"Yeah, thank God. It'll take a while to get everything cleaned up, but at least it's safe again, aside from the press who are still stalking me day and night."

"We have better security at my place. Do you want to stay over again?"

Jack cleared his throat, his cheeks tinting slightly pink as he stared at his laptop. "In, uh, light of certain recent events, that's probably not the best idea."

She gave a start. "Oh. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to—"

"It's fine. I'll make it work."

They finished, stored all the pertinent information, and gathered their things. Jack held the door for Kamala and checked his watch after they entered the hallway. "We'd better be up early so we can get the paper and the presentation ready. Good luck with your parents tonight."

"You too." She winced and nibbled her bottom lip. "I... didn't want to pry, but I sensed something was amiss when I saw them this morning."

"Believe me, that's an understatement." He caught the worried look on her face and smiled. "Hey, you'll get wrinkles if you keep up that frown. Don't worry. I'll be alright."

She hugged him. "Call me if you need me."

"Will do."

She tilted her head up to give him the usual cheek kiss, but didn't realize he had started to stoop down to allow her to do so, and their lips grazed each other. She jumped in surprise and he jerked upright.

"Ah, s-sorry, I didn't mean to—"

"No, it's fine, it was my fault." Kamala tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear and waved as she beat a hasty retreat. "Bye."

"Bye."

She got about three steps before she realized her cheeks burned with a blush and her heart bounced off her ribs like she'd just injected herself with an Epi-pen.

_That_ was new.

~*~

If there was one thing that could soften the blow of dealing with her parents, it was good food, so Kamala made sure she picked a place where they'd be able to eat freely despite their religious restraints. Life Alive was a bright, colorful, unique little spot off of Mass Avenue, tailored specifically to vegetarian and vegan diets. It was bustling with activity, but they snagged a table with relative ease and sat down to eat in a cozy corner. She'd been here several times with Faye—Jack, the meat-enthusiast, hadn't been interested—and the restaurant had often put her at ease during her most stressful weeks of the project.

"How much progress did you make with the dragon today?" Sahana asked, blowing softly to cool the quinoa on her fork.

"A lot, actually," Kamala answered, sipping her coconut smoothie. "We were finally able to fully document all of the changes she's experienced since the birth. She's fascinating. It's nothing like reading textbooks or studying fossils. Tomorrow we hope to start a video series focused on her behavior."

"Behavior? What kind of behavior does she exhibit exactly?"

"That's the interesting part. Reptiles are notorious for not having moods which are usually attribute to mammals, but she has completely changed what we understand about the way dragons interact with their environments. She still shows reticence around anyone other than Jack and me, but after we got her settled into an enclosure, she seemed to calm down and be more open to the physical exam. We collected her saliva, fecal matter, scales, and blood and put it in the queue for analysis. We greased a few palms to get the data back by the end of the week, so I'm excited to see what we'll find."

"And what of the future? Where will you move from here?"

"We'll be presenting the finished project to the panel in less than a month, so Jack and I will be preparing everything for the paper from now until then. After it's done, we will start planning a replication process using the different species of intact dragon DNA that's been collected from various sources. If things go well, then we'll modify the process to crossover into different parts of the animal kingdom. We'll collaborate with other interested parties and see where it takes us in the process of repairing damaged ecologies."

"That's lovely, my dear," Sahana said. "It'll be quite exciting to see what kind of avenues open up in the future."

"Speaking of which," Daeshim said. "Have you and your... associate given any further thought to my inquiry?"

"Which was?"

"The application of this technology on a larger, more lucrative scale. Essentially, what you're doing is a form of cloning and genetic manipulation. With some careful work, you could uncover some surprising information in those fields. It could open doors for your career."

Kamala's eyes narrowed slightly. "Forgive me, father, but I think we've opened enough doors already. Like Jack said, it's above my pay grade to ask if this technology should be applied to the human race."

"So now you need permission to learn? To grow? To explore something unknown?"

"No. I have no interest in that question. People are capable of making their own decisions. Animals are not. It is my belief that we were put here to help each other, to have a beneficial relationship with one another, whereas cloning and genetic manipulation borders on the unethical misuse of science."

Daeshim folded his hands on the small table. "How so?"

"It's knocking on a door I believe should stay closed. If we do unlock the miracle of cloning, how long until what was done to Pete is done to someone else? The interested parties aren't always benevolent. People are mostly good at their cores, but I believe that an agenda would corrupt it to the point where we'd be getting designer babies and clones of Marilyn Munroe rather than using it for life-saving purposes."

He shook his head. "That is too broad an assumption. There would be measures in place to prevent such a thing."

"Measures can be broken. Rules can be broken. We're looking for harmony, not tinkering with something that could be a potential disaster."

"You may not realize it, but that may be in your future as well. How much information did the yakuza secure while you were looking for the dragon?"

Kamala gritted her teeth. "Not enough to make a difference."

"My dear, you are treading dangerously. I hope you see that now."

"Daeshim," Sahana said, her voice sharp. "We are not here to make accusations. We are here to support her. She's been through enough without us adding to it."

He sat back in his chair and crossed his arms. "That was not my intention. She owes us an explanation, does she not?"

"Does she question why you became a physician? Does she argue with you about the methods that you teach at Columbia? What right have we to tell her what to do now that's she's an adult?"

"And what if I think she's wrong? Am I supposed to hold my tongue?"

"No, but I will not have you insult her intelligence by assuming she doesn't know what she's gotten herself into. Now apologize."

Daeshim grimaced. Sahana glared. He exhaled through his nose, quelling his temper. "Kamala, I am sorry if I have come across as patronizing. However, I am concerned that you haven't considered all the angles about this project. Look at what happened in just a week. What will happen in a month? Six months? A year? What if the world is not ready for what you're trying to accomplish?"

"Then we'll find a way around it," she answered with quiet resolution. "The focus of this project is education. We have a lot to learn from dragons. They can teach us patience, tolerance, understanding, responsibility. After all, that's what Pete has taught me so far."

"And what of your associate?" Daeshim pointed to her bandaged hand. "Is that what he's taught you?"

Kamala sighed. "I knew it. I knew this was where this conversation was headed."

"Answer the question."

"No," she said sharply. "This was not Jack's fault. He spent nearly every second in Tokyo trying to protect me. I saved his life, as a matter of fact. You haven't even had a full conversation with the man and yet you feel qualified to judge him. Tell me how that is right or fair."

"Kamala, you cannot be this naïve. He's using you."

She stood from the table and shoved her chair back. "That's it."

"Kamala!" She ignored the call, stalked away to the exit, and left the restaurant. Sahana shot her husband a death glare and followed her.

"Kamala, please," she called after her daughter. "Don't leave like this."

"Why shouldn't I?" she snarled, reaching into her purse for the car keys. "He hasn't heard a single word I've said."

"Then come back and explain it to him."

"What difference would it make, mother? He hears only what he wants to hear. He believes only what he wants to believe."

"Then prove him wrong." Kamala stopped on the sidewalk. Sahana continued. "My flower, there are things about your father that you don't understand because you were raised in this country. Where we came from was different than this place. Do you want to know why he is so hard on you?"

"Not particularly," she grumbled, but she turned around to face her mother anyway.

"The first time his mother found out we were courting, she slapped your father in the face."

Kamala's eyes widened. " _Dadi_ did that?"

"Yes. Do you know why?"

Sahana shook her head. "My skin may be as brown as theirs, but my faith is not the same. She thought I was Muslim, and when she found out I was Hindu, she shamed him and told him to find another woman of their same faith. He refused. For the first few years of our relationship, we had almost nothing. He was cut off from his family, from the people who raised him, because he decided to marry outside of what they approved of. Those were hard years, but eventually, they came around when you were born. Your father is afraid of the same thing happening to you."

"Mother, Jack and I are not dating."

Sahana chuckled and touched her daughter's cheek. "I know. And I also know you, my flower. There is not another man on this planet that you look at the way I saw you look at him when you were in that lab and you thought the dragons were dead. Perhaps it is not love, but there is no doubt in my mind that you feel an attachment to him that is stronger than you realize. Your father picked up on it as well. He just doesn't want you to suffer, to struggle, to be unhappy as we were for a long time. Everything he's done has been towards the goal of keeping you away from that kind of persecution. This is a wonderful country, but it isn't perfect. Who you spend your time with has an impact on your reputation, whether you realize it or not."

"And what about you? What do you think?"

"I think you'll do what's best for you in time. I have always trusted you because you know who you are and you won't allow anyone to stifle it. Not even your parents."

Kamala sighed and let her mother draw her into a hug. "I can't believe you married such a stubborn jackass."

Sahana laughed. "If my suspicions are correct, you will know why soon enough."

She pulled away, scandalized. "Mother!"

Sahana laughed harder. "Oh, my sweet. What a future you have ahead of you."

~*~

Hey.

What's up?

This is gonna sound odd, but...remind me not to punch my Dad in the face.

Jack, don't punch your Dad in the face.

Thanks, Faye.

You're welcome, Stilts. Good luck.

Jack pocketed his cell phone, took a deep breath, and opened the front door to his apartment. Richard Jackson stood there with a pack of Budweisers in one hand and a plastic bag with the orange logo of Home Depot across the front.

"Hey."

"Hey," Jack replied, standing aside as his father entered. He shut the door and locked it. He didn't live in the nicest apartment complex, but they had one hell of a repair guy. He'd done a fine job with the new door.

"Dinner's on its way," he continued. "Should be here soon."

"Good." Richard set the bag on the kitchen counter and started withdrawing items. Jack returned to his bedroom and wheeled the vacuum cleaner back into the closet. It was mostly full of fluff from his shredded mattress and box spring. He'd have to work on getting a new one within the next few days. A task in and of itself with him on a budget. He was too tall for a twin bed and anything bigger than that cost an arm and a leg. Then again, he had a ton of interviews and lectures lined up that would start a new cash flow, so maybe it wasn't so bad.

"Any trouble getting here?" Jack asked, searching through his junk drawer for a pencil.

"Not too bad," Richard replied. "I see the press finally let up some."

"Yeah. I may or may not have threatened them with a baseball bat."

The older man snorted. "Baseball bat? You should consider getting a Benelli."

Jack chuckled. "Overkill much?"

"Hey, it'll help them get the point."

Jack went over to the door with the pencil and the chain fastener to mark it. "Actually, I was going to ask what you thought about home protection. Which handguns do you still have at the house?"

"One Smith and Wesson, a Sig Sauer, and a Ruger. Nothing fancy. I sold some of the antiques so we could get the new truck last month. What are you looking for?"

"Home security. I don't want anything to carry around with me because that's just asking for trouble."

"Mm. Pistol or semiautomatic?"

"Semiautomatic."

"How do you feel about a Glock 17?"

"Not sure. I almost feel like that's too much power, but then again it's easy to use."

Richard handed him the drill and the screws. "That's my suggestion. Head to a target range, rent one, and practice with it. Get used to the weight and the reloading process until you feel comfortable, then make the purchase. After all, your record's clean as a whistle. You shouldn't have any trouble getting one."

"Dunno. If they find out about my anger issues, maybe I will."

"I've seen angrier men in my day. You'll be fine." Richard gave him the chain side of the fastener. "Want it on the trim or in the jam?"

"Trim."

"Alright, about there is level," he said, pointing. "How'd you talk the apartment complex into letting you do this?"

Jack snorted. "Showed them pictures of what the asshole did to my place. They said yes in a hurry."

He drilled the fastener into place and then tested the door to make sure it was secure. Afterward, Richard went into the kitchen and tossed his son a beer. They both popped one open each and drank quietly for a bit.

"That asshole," Richard said, his blue eyes hard. "He get away?"

"Yes and no. He's in a coma. Don't know if he'll ever come out of it."

"How do you feel about that?"

Jack shrugged. "It's what it is. Can't get any better revenge than being brain dead. Nature is the great equalizer sometimes."

"Yeah. Guess so."

Silence. Jack put the drill and the pencil away. He sipped a bit more of the beer before speaking again, his palms flat to the counter. "She accepting your calls yet?"

"No."

Jack winced. "How long has it been since the fight?"

"Happened right before you left for Tokyo."

Jack shook his head. "She just needs time to be mad. You know her. She's got a hard shell, but deep down, she's all mush."

"I think we both know it won't be that easy."

"No, it won't. But if there's one person you've always fought for, it's her."

Richard eyed him. "That's a backhanded compliment, isn't it?"

Jack straightened up. "Do you really want to start down that road right now?"

"I didn't come here to fight, kid."

"No, but you're always ready for one, aren't you?"

"Goddamn it, boy," he spat, shaking his head. "You'd slap the Devil in the face if you could reach him. I almost lost you. You could have died over there and I would have never seen you again, and yet all you want to do is start another fight, even after all of that. Do you want to take a shot at me? I'll stand still and everything. What the hell is it going to take for you to let it go?"

"I don't know. Maybe an apology. Maybe acknowledgment that both of us fucked up and none of it should have gone down the way it did. I don't blame all of it on you, Dad. But I'm tired of walking on eggshells. I did that the whole time I was a kid. Not once did I ever talk back to you before that day and yet you still act like I'm some incredible disappointment. I did everything you ever asked me to do. What more did you want from me?"

"You were hiding, Rhett. All I wanted to do was get you off your ass to become the man I knew you could be. You are probably the smartest person I've ever met and that's why I didn't want you hiding in your room reading books. You were holding yourself back by letting those little knuckleheads push you around. I just wanted you to grow up and reach your potential, and I thought that..." He sighed and raked a hand through his salt-and-pepper streaked hair. "I thought that if I taught you to defend yourself, you'd push back. You'd realize you had your own kind of power and they couldn't take that from you. I was wrong to push so hard. I've got my own set of issues that I haven't dealt with either, and some of those came through while I was teaching you. I'm sorry you had to be a part of that. I'm sorry I let you lie to your mother. I'm sorry I kept my mouth shut because I was scared of losing her."

Jack stared into his mostly empty beer can before draining it. "Did you tell her that?"

Richard grunted. "Not yet."

"Why not?"

"Couldn't. She punched me in the face and then left."

Jack's jaw slammed through the earth's crust. "She _what?_ "

Richard winced. "Hell of a right hook on that woman."

Jack rubbed his face and muttered, "My God, no wonder none of my relationships ever work out."

"What was that?"

"Nothing. How are you planning on winning her back?" Silence. Jack eyed his father. "This is the part where you say some ridiculous romantic-comedy-level bullshit that is so heartwarming that she'll be compelled to takeyou back. Anytime now, Dad."

"Maybe," Richard said quietly. "Maybe I don't deserve to win her back. I lied to her for over ten years, Rhett. That's a long time. And it says a lot of unflattering things about me."

Jack made a show of patting himself down, pockets and all. Richard frowned. "The hell are you doing?"

"Oh no, I think I forgot the confetti for the pity party you're throwing yourself right now."

The older man scowled. "Wiseass."

"You know I'm right. Yeah, you screwed up, and so did I. Cry yourself a river and then go win her back."

"You say that like it's easy. Have you met your mother? She's more stubborn than a donkey convention."

The doorbell rang. Jack went to it and paid the pizza guy. He then walked over and handed his father the pizza. "Mushroom and Italian sausage, extra cheese. Her favorite. Now get your ass in that truck and go apologize to my mother."

Richard glared. "Since when do you call the shots?"

Jack snapped one extra beer off the pack and shoved the rest into his father's arms on top of the pizza box. "Since the only thing worse than you is you without Mom. Thanks for the beer. Kick rocks."

Richard sighed. "Lord forgive me. I'm going to murder my own son."

Jack smirked. "Murder later. Romance now."

Richard grunted again and headed for the door. "Call me in the morning, kid."

"Will do. Bye, Dad."

"Bye, son." He shut the door behind him. Jack locked it, smiling as he finished his beer.

# CHAPTER TWENTY

EXHUME

Kamala nearly wept in relief as she shuffled up the front steps to her apartment, unlocked the door, and shut it. She didn't even bother to look at the time on the oven as she passed the kitchen. She just dropped her purse beside the couch, flopped down on the cushion, and laid her head on Faye's lap. The blonde engineer's eyes were trained on the episode of _Penny Dreadful_ on their flat-screen TV. She sipped her Corona and smoothed her free hand through her roommate's messy locks.

"So, how was _your_ day?"

Kamala stared at the ceiling. "My mother told me they were disowned by my father's family until I was born. I can't tell if I'm angry or confused."

Faye nodded. "Sounds about right."

"Oh, and Jack's in love with me."

Faye glanced down at her. "No shit? Really?"

Kamala pursed her lips and squinted up at her. "Bloody hell. You knew, didn't you?"

Faye opened her mouth, closed it, and then returned her gaze to the TV without saying anything.

Kamala shut her eyes. "I hate you."

Faye sighed. "It wasn't my place to say anything."

"But you knew. This is your fault."

"What is my fault?"

"I don't know what to do!" she exclaimed, throwing up her hands. "I have no idea how I feel about him now. How did this get so damned complicated all of the sudden?"

Faye chuckled. "Welcome to the dating world, Kam. It's supposed to be complicated."

"Well, how do I un-complicate it?"

"Simple. Think about it this way: what is the biggest reason you're confused?"

"I don't know."

"Yes, you do. It's because you're friends. Best friends, in fact. You can't think of Jack in the context of a lover because he's your best friend and he has been for a while. That label made him safe. You never had to think of him as a potential suitor. Now that he told you how he felt, it's completely flipped your perception upside down. Now you do have to think about him romantically, and it's knocked everything askew. Your relationship was unbalanced this whole time, but you never knew about it until now."

Kamala paused, digesting her words. "Alright, that seemed to make sense. Keep going."

"Right. So, let's try to remove the friendship aspect and shelve it for later. Let's pretend you and I went to a bar and Jack's sitting there drinking a beer. He smiles at you. You smile back. What would happen next?"

"I suppose he'd offer to buy me a drink. We'd probably move somewhere quieter to chat. He'd ask me what I do for a living. I'd answer and then ask the same." She covered her face with both hands. "This is so weird."

"Relax. Be objective. Do you think he's attractive?"

"Yes."

"See?"

"See what?"

"When I asked you about meeting him at a bar, you hesitated, but when I asked if you find him attractive, you didn't hesitate. On some level, you already knew that you think he's attractive. That's one point in his favor, at least."

Kamala dropped her hands, wrinkling her nose as she thought about it. "I suppose that's right. After all, I did initiate our kiss."

Faye stared wide-eyed at her. "You kissed him?"

"Oh, calm down, it was a ruse to distract the guy who was tailing us."

Faye arched an eyebrow. "Was it a good kiss?"

Kamala thought about it. "Actually, yes. And he made a rather adorable face afterward."

"Two points in his favor. Now let's focus outside of the physical. You've seen his lifestyle. He's messy, but in the clutter-type way, not the usual gross-slob-bachelor way. Would that bother you in the long run?"

"Perhaps."

"What about his behavior? Does he do anything that drives you crazy?"

"He tries to protect me a lot. He's down on himself more than he should be. He has a temper, although it's mostly directed at things that frustrate him. If he gets inside his own head too much, he can talk himself out of something he should be doing. He's not big on sharing his feelings, either. You practically have to drag things out of him."

"Okay, then you understand his limitations. Let's try it another way: what if everything goes right? The two of you go on a date and it's amazing. Where do you move from there? Do you know what kind of future he wants? Does it gel with the one you've pictured for yourself?"

"I... don't know," Kamala admitted softly. "I always assumed he wanted the American dream: a house with a white picket fence and two kids and a dog, but we've never quite had that conversation. As for me, I haven't planned that far out considering how uncertain my future is. I'm not a big fan of marriage, with what I've had to deal with from my family."

"I see. Well, then now you have a couple of things to weigh against each other. The two of you could hit a homerun, or you could completely crash and burn. Do you think your friendship could survive a breakup?"

Kamala stayed silent for a long while. "I'd like to think so. He's a sweet man. I can't imagine he'd let it turn him into a monster."

"Good. Then you have food for thought. My advice is that you should sleep on it. No one said you had to figure it out right this second. If he's really in love with you, he'll wait for as long as you need."

"Alright." Kamala sat up. "Tell me something. Is the reason you didn't pursue him because you knew he had feelings for me?"

Faye blinked at her in surprise. "No, actually. He turned me down."

Kamala stared. "Seriously?"

"He didn't tell you that?"

"No. He said no to you? And meant it?"

Faye smirked. "Hard to believe, isn't it?"

"Impossible, even."

"Well, I guess the guy really has it bad for you, huh?"

"Guess so." Kamala paused. "Faye?"

"Yeah?"

She took a deep breath. "If I pursue this relationship, I don't want there to be any awkwardness between us. I'd like you two to be friends. Or at the very least, I'd like you to be civil around each other."

"Pfft," Faye snorted after another gulp of beer. "Take all the fun out of life, why don't you?"

"Faye."

"Oh, don't give me that look. It's not like I hate the guy. He's a pain in the ass, but he's good people. Besides, in the last few days, my Jack Tolerance Levels have gone up exponentially. Plus, if I'm being completely honest, I think he'd be good for you. I genuinely hated the last couple of guys you dated. Jack and I are oil and water, but at least we're both liquids. That's more than I can say about your other suitors."

Kamala scowled. "We'll file that last part away for a future conversation." She wrapped her arms around the taller girl's shoulders. "Thanks for listening."

"No problem, babe. Get some sleep."

"I'll try." Kamala shuffled into her room and kicked the door shut. She took a deep breath of the leftover scent of incense and let the memories of comfort and familiarity roll over her before she disrobed and climbed into bed with her iPad. After she read a few articles from various scientific journals, she queued up the first season of _Cheers_.

She dreamt of blood.

Gallons of it.

She was waist-deep in the stuff and every second, the crimson tide rolled higher up her body and saturated her skin even through her clothes. She couldn't feel the ground underneath her, so she tried to swim, but the blood wouldn't let go. It started sucking her under. She reached bloody fingers up at the ceiling, but it was beyond her reach. The last thing she saw was the tips of her fingers as the darkness swallowed her whole. It oozed down her nose, her throat, in her ears, in her eyes, the sickening metallic flavor coating her tongue and squishing between her clenched teeth.

Kamala sat up in bed with a gasp. The iPad slid down her belly into her lap, still playing canned 1980's laughter. She pressed a trembling hand to her damp forehead and tried to shake the horrific image out of her head, but the cold sweat gliding down her spine felt an awful lot like blood.

She threw off the covers and took a boiling hot shower, even washing her hair just to be completely thorough. The shaking stopped by the time she dried off, but undoing the soggy bandage from her bruised hand made it start all over again. Images of the dead yakuza she'd accidentally killed flashed against the back of her eyes. Kamala shuddered and curled up on the bed with the towel around her neck. She didn't want to know what time it was, but she forced herself to check her phone anyway. After two am. Not good. She had an early morning.

A moment later, she poked her head out into the den. Faye had already gone to bed. She didn't want to bother her. The poor girl had been through enough already.

Kamala gnawed her bottom lip as she stared at the surface of her phone. Nothing ventured, nothing gained. She texted Jack.

Still up?

Five minutes passed. She paced the whole while, then sighed and slouched back towards the mattress. Her phone chimed.

Sadly, yes. Can't sleep?

A relieved sigh escaped her this time. _Not in the least._

Me neither. Did you try drinking chamomile tea?

Not yet. Does that actually work?

Well, I've had three cups already, so I'm gonna say no.

She chuckled. _Poor baby._ _What about taking a hot bath? Or warm milk?_

Bathtub's too small for my big ass. Haven't grocery shopped in a week. What else ya got?

ZzzQuil?

Ah, point taken. There's a 24-hour CVS right around the corner. What about you? What have you tried?

It's not insomnia. Had a bad dream. Kind of too spooked to go back to bed yet.

Sorry to hear that. Anything I can do?

She drummed her fingers on the phone case before answering. _Don't suppose you want to tell me a bedtime story?_

A couple minutes later, the phone rang. Kamala shook her head and answered it.

"You do realize I was kidding, right?"

"Bah. I'm up anyway. Just needed a moment to dig my Grimm's fairytales out of the bookshelf. Comfy?"

She curled up beneath the sheets and set the phone on her pillow, turning on the speakerphone. "Comfy."

"Good. Let's start with the story of Rapunzel. Once upon a time, there was a man and a woman who had long, but to no avail, wished for a child..."

~*~

"You sure you're up for this?"

"I'm still here, aren't I?"

Jack exhaled. "Watch much of the Discovery channel?"

"Here and there."

"Well, consider that to be your primer, then. It's not the same in real life, watching it happen right in front of you. That's why Kam decided to step out until it's over. That's also why I had to fight the vets tooth-and-nail over it, no pun intended."

Faye's lips twitched upward. "Lies and garbage. That pun was totally intended."

He snorted. "Maybe so. Sorry. The stuff we do as scientists can get pretty ugly sometimes. This is one of those times."

"Understood. Now get on with it."

Jack glanced at the pig currently on a leash at his feet, chomping down on a bucket of feed to keep it distracted, and then up at the fenced enclosure before him. About fifteen yards out, slumbering beneath the tree she was tethered to, lay the dragon. He cleared his throat and pushed the bucket out of reach with his foot, clicking his tongue to get the pig's attention. He stepped forward towards the fence and nudged it inside, and then stepped in after it. He unsnapped its leash, rubbed its ears, and muttered an apology before sliding outside the enclosure. The pig started sniffing the grass and trotting around to inspect the new environment.

Pete's yellow eyes opened slowly.

She lifted her head, nostrils flaring, and turned to look at the pig. She kept completely still as it ambled through the enclosure, having not spotted her yet since she was beneath the shade and nearly blended in with the grass because of her green scales. To her onlookers' surprise, she lowered her head between her clawed feet and didn't move a muscle as the pig came closer.

"When's the last time she ate?" Faye asked in a low voice.

Jack checked his watch. "Four hours ago. We keep her on that schedule, since it seems to be how her metabolism runs now that we've regulated it."

"So, she should be hungry right now?"

"Yeah."

The pig followed a meandering path until it was about twenty paces from the tree, its snout wiggling as it tried to figure out what it smelled. Again, Pete didn't move. The pig stood poised, one front leg up, sniffing furiously, oinking under its breath in frustration. It lowered its leg and turned around to go the way it had come.

Pete made one graceful, near-silent leap.

The pig squealed as she pinned it beneath her enormous talons and went straight for its throat with her jaws. She bit into its neck. The pig let out a gurgling cry as blood flowed down its shoulder and sides, but it didn't last long. The dragon jerked her head to one side abruptly and the pig went limp. The entire attack took less than ten seconds.

Jack and Faye stood silent.

"Well," Jack said weakly. "Guess we have our answer about her hunting instincts."

"Yeah," Faye said, her face bloodless. She wrapped her arms around her stomach, but didn't look away as the dragon began tearing strips of meat from the pig's corpse and devouring them whole, painting her belly scales and snout bright red. "That was... almost elegant, in a way. She didn't let it suffer. Went straight for the throat like a lion or a crocodile."

"The neck-breaking is a surprise," Jack said, withdrawing a pencil and pad from his coat pocket. His hands shook a tiny bit as he flipped to find a new page. "We measured her bite force at something pretty insane, so you'd think clamping down would kill her prey, but she actually twisted the neck to break it. Her instincts told her to be ultra-sure it was dead before eating. I saw her snatch a few birds out of the air, but she ate those in just one bite."

"Do you think she'd be interested in carrion, or does she prefer fresh meat?"

"Hard to say. Before we brought her home, they were giving her fresh fish to eat, and she didn't seem to have a problem with that. I don't know if they tried feeding her leftovers."

"What can she digest?"

"She strips livestock down to the skeleton. She can digest the bones in fish, but she seems to avoid it with things that have denser bones, like our unfortunate friend there."

"Mm-hmm."

Jack snuck a sidelong glance over at her. "You okay?"

"Fine. I just don't think I'm going to eat bacon for a week."

"You poor woman. A week without bacon is a week wasted."

Faye almost smiled, her blue eyes still locked on the predator. "Are you documenting this just with your notes?"

"No. I had some hidden cameras installed to make sure no one's messing with her when we aren't here. The vets here are pretty great, though. I trust them to make sure she's taken care of on the off hours."

"Well, this enclosure's meant for livestock. What's your long term plan for the other species?"

Jack winced. "We're, uh, working on that part. We've been in contact with the wildlife reserves in the state to see who's willing to put them up, but it'll take time. Reptile enclosures are mostly in zoos, and we don't want to put her on display like a circus lion."

Faye eyed him. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah, why?"

"Your tone is off. That sounded awfully bitter."

"I'm fine."

She crossed her arms and faced him this time. "Y'know, I'm starting to think your trip to Japan has ruined your childlike innocence."

"Ha! When did I ever have any of that?"

She tilted her head, squinting up at him. "You had a bit in you. That excited little boy charm you got when you talked about the project. I don't know if it's still there after the yakuza did what they did to you three."

Jack returned his gaze to his notes. "Cynicism is good for the soul."

"No, it's not. Sure, you needed a reality check, but I hope you haven't let this debacle make you stop believing in people."

He didn't answer. She sighed. "Come on, Jack. Just because dragons were exploited in the past doesn't mean history is going to repeat itself. Not when you and Kamala are at the helm."

"We won't be the only ones at the helm."

Faye stilled. "What do you mean?"

He sighed. "Kam told me what she had to do to find me when Yagami and Okegawa had me holed up in their R&D facility. She had to surrender information to Yagami's sister, Keiko. Nothing's surfaced yet, but you can be sure they're cooking something over there."

"Dammit," Faye muttered. "I'm sorry."

He shrugged. "We lost the battle, not the war. Nature is a good equalizer. If we do this right, then at least stateside the study and conservation of these animals will be regulated so that they aren't being exploited. We'll have the opportunity to make dreams come true."

"I was wrong."

Jack's eyebrows lifted. "The almighty Faye just admitted fault. Wrong about what?"

She grinned. "There's that childlike wonder again. Dreams coming true? You're so cute sometimes."

His cheeks burned as he scowled at her. "Shut up."

She laughed lightly. "You precious flower of a man, you. No way Kam will resist for long. How's that going, by the way?"

Jack shuffled his feet and coughed slightly. "She couldn't sleep last night, so I read her some bedtime stories."

Faye stared. "You're not joking, are you?"

"No."

She buried her face in one hand. "My God, you're an idiot."

"What?" he protested. "She's having nightmares, okay? What was I supposed to do? Seduce her? That's a massive violation of trust, you know."

"Yes, but if you ever want out of the Friend Zone, you can't do things like that. That's something a family member would do. You want her to think of you as a suitor, right?"

"Easy for you to say. I'm not exactly an expert at courtship, remember?"

"No shit, Sherlock." She drummed her fingers on the fence post. "You need to bounce back. Do something romantic. No, something irresistibly romantic."

"Yes," he said with the utmost sarcasm. "I'll get right on that. I'll recite Shakespearean sonnets from the front lawn in her honor."

"Do you actually know any?"

"No. Never was a Shakespeare buff. More a fan of mythology and religious texts."

Faye blinked at him. "Really? Religious texts? Wouldn't have pegged you for that."

"Took some theology classes in undergrad. Somehow ended up reading the Quran, the Ramayana, the Bible, the Torah, to name a few. Honestly, it's because I'm not really good with words, so I liked reading the works of people who are actually good at them."

"Ramayana, huh? She'd like that. Did you memorize any of it?"

"Bits and pieces. I think one of my favorites was in Book Two, Canto Sixty Seven. I reread some of it on the flight into Tokyo, as a matter of fact."

He paused, remembering the words.

" _Strive, best of old Ikshváku's strain,  
Strive till the conquered foe be slain.  
Where is the profit or the joy  
If thy fierce rage the worlds destroy?  
Search till thou find the guilty foe,  
Then let thy hand no mercy show."_

He offered her a sheepish grin then. "Sounds kind of cool when you're charging into Tokyo to get your dragon back."

"You're such a dork, Jack."

"If that's the word for it," Kamala said quietly.

Both their heads snapped to the side as they spotted her standing there, one hand on her hip, a clipboard in the other, her expression unreadable.

"Kam!" Jack wheezed. "Welcome back!"

She walked a little closer and switched her gaze to the enclosure. "I see the deed is done. Did you learn what you needed to about her behavior?"

Jack cleared his throat. "Y-Yeah, it's consistent with the behavior model I predicted. I was going to give her enough time to finish eating and then see if she'll let me give her a bath. It'll spook people if she stays caked in pig's blood. Might bring back memories of _Carrie_."

"Very well." She held her hand out and he gave her the notepad. "I'll transcribe your notes in the meantime."

Kamala turned and started going back inside while Jack and Faye sent each other panicked looks before she spoke again.

"Oh, and Jack?"

"Yes?" he squeaked.

"Clear your evening. You're making me dinner at your place tonight."

~*~

"Faye, what the hell is garnish?"

He could hear a slight laugh in her voice as she answered. "You know when the chef has little green things on the plate after the meal's all done?"

"Yeah?"

"That's garnish. It's optional. What does the recipe say?"

Jack squinted at the iPad currently propped up on the counter next to his cell phone. "I think it wants me to use fresh parsley as garnish on top of the spaghetti."

"It's fine. She'll probably end up putting parmesan cheese on hers anyway. Have you strained the pasta yet?"

"Ah, that's what I forgot." He turned and grabbed the still-bubbling noodles and poured them into the colander perched in the center of his sink, tilting his head back a bit so the steam issuing out didn't blind him. He put the emptied pot into the other half of the sink and then stirred the marinara in the other pot on the stove before flipping the burner off. The oven beeped a moment later and he put on an oven mitt before opening it. He removed a flat, rectangular pan and set it on the unused burner.

"How's it look?" Faye asked.

"Moment of truth," he said, peeling back the aluminum foil. "Successful surgery, doctor."

"Very good. You may close."

He shut the oven door with his knee. "Does it really make a difference if I use real plates instead of paper ones?"

"Of course. More romantic, remember? You want the illusion of a cozy, intimate setting, and that plays into it. Be careful not to squish the eggplants when you set them on the plate."

"Ugh-ugh," he grunted as he grabbed a spatula. "Caveman no like eggplant. Caveman want fried brontosaurus."

"You can have that tomorrow night, Neanderthal. Is the wine breathing?"

Jack turned to stare at the cell phone in disbelief. "What the hell does that mean?"

The phone sighed. "Pour two glasses and swirl the wine around, genius."

"Oh." He obeyed. "There, the Chianti is respirating. Happy?"

"Ecstatic. May I point out to you that it's mildly disturbing that I'm helping you with your date, with the woman I still sort of have feelings for?"

"It occurred to me," he said with a sigh. "But my folks are embroiled in their own sort of dust up right now and you're the only person I know who has cooked for a vegetarian before." He stood up straight for a second. "Oh my _God._ "

"What?"

"Faye... did we accidentally become best friends?"

"Ew, no!" A pause. "Well, sort of. Whatever. I blame the trauma. You clearly have brain damage from the tussle in Tokyo."

He snorted as he used tongs to carefully drape the now-dry spaghetti noodles onto the china plates next to the eggplant parmesan. "Clearly. What's your excuse?"

"Well, I'm still trying to get into your pants, so there you go. I'm luring you into a false sense of security."

Jack choked on a laugh. "Right. How could I have forgotten?"

He spooned the homemade marinara onto the spaghetti and walked over to the dining table, setting one plate at each end atop the doilies. He struck a match and lit the two tall candles in the center and wandered past the entertainment center, poking at the CD player. A moment later, the dulcet tones of Nat King Cole filled the air. After setting out the salad and bowls, utensils, and the half-full wine glasses, he took a deep breath and grabbed the phone as he surveyed the apartment. "Done. I think. Now I have just enough time for a quick panic attack before she gets here and we're good to go."

Faye laughed softly. "Relax, Stilts. The hard part's over. Just be yourself."

"Are you sure that's a good idea?"

"Honesty never hurt anyone."

"So they tell me." He hesitated. "Thank you. Seriously. I know this can't be easy for you—"

"Nonsense. I told you I'm not going to pursue it. No hurt feelings, I promise."

"Would you tell me if there were?"

"Were what?"

"Hurt feelings," he murmured.

She didn't answer immediately. "Maybe. We'll see what happens. Good luck, Jack."

"Thanks, Faye. Bye."

Jack hung up and went into his bedroom to check himself in the mirror. He had convinced himself not to go full formal or it'd be borderline too weird: instead, he went with a white dress shirt, a navy vest, matching slacks, a burgundy silk tie, and black dress shoes. A few globs of holding gel kept the front of his hair from sticking up like usual. He had just finished putting on cologne when the doorbell rang, and he jumped like he'd been shot. Again, anyway.

"You've got this, Jackson," he muttered, walking through the den. "Be yourself."

Nat King Cole was crooning about love and lightning strikes when Jack opened the door to see Kamala on his doorstep, dressed to kill.

Red had always been her color, and she wore it well tonight in the form of a modest yet alluring cocktail dress. It was sheer at the top of the bodice and fluffed out a bit just below her knees over her low matching heels. She wore gold bangles on each arm and thin hoop earrings, but what drew his eye most of all was the scarlet lipstick. He couldn't quit staring if he tried. The brightness of the color brought out the rich golden-bronze of her skin and clashed delightfully with her pitch-dark hair, which she'd left down, freshly washed and styled.

"Evening, Jack," she said.

Jack gulped. "Evening, Kamala."

"May I come in?"

"Yes, you may." He stood aside and she glided in, her smile morphing into a playful grin as he shut the door. "Don't forget to pick your jaw up off the welcome mat."

Jack blushed and cleared his throat. "Right. Sorry, I didn't mean to—you just look—I mean, God, Kam. I'm at a loss for words."

She lowered her thick eyelashes to grant him a challenging look. "Try anyway."

He finally relaxed into a smile.

"His love, his life, possessed the whole  
Of her young hero's heart and soul:--  
'Be sure the lady's fate repays  
Some mighty vow of ancient days,  
For blest with Ráma's love is she  
As, with the Moon's, sweet Rohiní."

She clapped a couple times, softly, still grinning. "Book Two, Canto Sixteen. Impressive. I was right. You are a romantic, Jack."

"I try. May I take your coat?"

She slipped out of it and he hung it inside the tiny closet by the bedroom. He swept a hand towards the dining table. "Dinner is served, milady."

"Milord," she drawled back, and curtsied, which drew a laugh from Jack as they walked over to the table. He pulled her chair out and then took his own seat.

"Eggplant parmesan," Kamala said with a wistful sigh as she picked up her fork. "I haven't had this in ages. Homemade?"

"Mm-hmm."

"Have you ever had it before?"

He arched an eyebrow. She giggled. "Sorry, I just wanted to see that look on your face. Did you taste-test it first?"

Jack blinked. "Wait, I was supposed to do that? Oh, uh—"

She ate the first bite. He froze in horror, watching intently. She chewed carefully and swallowed, her face impassive. Then she smiled. "Oh, relax, I was messing with you. It's delicious."

He let out a gust of air that ruffled the candle flame in front of him. "Good."

They ate in a light, companionable silence until their plates and bowls were clean, and Jack refilled the red wine in their glasses. Halfway through his second glass, Jack's tongue loosened a little more. "Can I ask you something?"

"Always."

He twirled the wine glass stem between his long fingers. "What made you change your mind about... this? Us?"

"I wouldn't think of it as a change of mind, really. More a realization."

"What did you realize?"

"That the signs were there in miniscule aspects of our lives," she admitted, running her painted fingertips along the lace edges of the placemat. "For instance, I thought about my reaction to Fujioka soon after we met her, and in some ways, I was actually jealous of the relationship you had with her. She gave me the impression that you were completely honest with her in a way you hadn't been with me, and I felt oddly upset by the notion. When I thought she had some sort of agenda, I felt about as protective of you as you did of me. Last night, Faye told me to sleep on it. I did. I thought about the fact that I should have noticed sooner how you've treated me kindly in a way that you haven't with anyone else, and that I treasure our relationship because it's so private. Even before we kissed, it had its own sort of intimacy and in a lot of ways, you were already my partner. I didn't have to share you with anyone, and it's something I've held on to and appreciated over time."

She flicked her gaze up at him. "To me, the benefits of taking a chance on us outweighed the cost. It was easy to place our relationship in a labeled box to keep out all the complicated emotions we've been feeling this past year. I've been holed up in a tower like a forgotten princess, emotionally speaking. I think it's time to come down."

"Wow," he said softly. "You've given it a lot of thought, huh?"

She nodded. "I don't do anything lightly. All or nothing. Like someone else I know."

He grinned. "Speaking of all-or-nothing, would you care for some dessert?"

"Don't ask rhetorical questions, Dr. Jackson."

He chuckled and rose, going to the freezer. She watched as he found a couple of bowls and spoons, returning with a frozen treat. He handed it to her and she groaned with anticipation.

"Raspberry sorbet. My favorite. Ten points for Gryffindor."

Jack laughed and returned to his seat. "I always saw myself as more of a Ravenclaw."

"Maybe," she said after the first mouthful. "But you have the heart of a Gryffindor."

"Fair enough." He adopted a British accent. "Well, Miss Granger, what would you care to do for the remainder of the evening? Dare I say we indulge in the home cinema?"

"That sounds positively novel, Mr. Weasley."

"Would you be so kind as to choose our entertainment?"

"I would indeed." She walked over to the bookcase while she started perusing his video library. Jack cleared the table and started to finish off the rest of his wine glass.

"Do you own _Body Heat_?"

Jack choked on the wine. Kamala dissolved into laughter. Once he finished coughing it up, he shot her a filthy glare. "You did that on purpose."

"I... couldn't... help myself..." she said through giggles.

He wiped his mouth with a napkin. " _Body Heat_ came out in 1981. Before either of us were born, in fact. You should update your references."

She sent him a look over her shoulder. "Would you prefer _Fifty Shades of Grey_?"

Jack shuddered. "God, no. On second thought, I'll take the eighties references."

She came away from the shelf with a DVD case, holding it out to him. "Well, if we're going to use the proper updated references, do we consider tonight a Netflix-and-Chill scenario?"

Jack eyed her. "You're enjoying this, aren't you?"

"Enjoying what?" she asked, widening her brown eyes to look innocent.

"Trying to make me lose my composure."

"In my defense, your reactions are positively adorable."

He accepted the case and flipped it up to read the title. He eyed her again. "Alright, this is a good choice, so I'll forgive you for now."

After switching off the CD player, he knelt and stuck the DVD inside the player. After he clicked Play, a familiar iconic, swelling orchestral music filled the air and he took a seat at the end of the couch. He flipped the recliner back and stretched out his long legs.

"May I?" Kamala asked.

He scooted over, surprised. "Of course."

She settled next to him and laid her head on his shoulder as the opening crawl to _The Force Awakens_ began. She noted at first that he was a bit stiff, but as the movie continued, he relaxed into the couch cushion. Eventually, she felt his chin rest on the crown of her head and smiled a little to herself.

138 minutes later, Jack stretched a bit and rested his hand on her upper arm, rubbing it slightly. "It's late. Do you want to head home yet?"

She snaked an arm around his torso, giving him a half-hug. "Not especially."

"Still not sleeping well?"

Kamala sighed. "I slept alright after last night. I'm just...not in a hurry to try again."

"I hope you don't mind me saying so, but I'd like you to do something with me."

She glanced at him then and he rolled his eyes. "Get your mind out of the gutter. I meant something to help you cope with everything. I've been looking around at psychiatrists in the city. A lot of really bad things happened to both of us and sometimes it's good to get it off our chests with an impartial third party. Would you consider something like that?"

"I suppose it's the most logical thing to do."

"But do you want to do that?"

"I'm not sure I'm ready to face what I did."

"Hey," he whispered, brushing a stray hair out of her dark eyes. "You don't have to face it alone, okay? I'm here. As a friend, as whatever you need me to be. Always."

She held his gaze for a long moment, bathed in the faint glow of the end credits. "You were wrong, you know."

"How so?"

"You are worthy." She kissed him.

Even after all the over-the-top reactions Jack's heart had in the past, he expected it to completely lose its shit during the first real kiss from the woman he loved.

Instead, it simply let out a single wistful sigh.

If there was any other pair of lips on the planet, Jack sure as hell didn't care.

Softness. Warmth. Comfort. Passion. The kiss wore all of those like beautiful, carefully crafted garbs. Whether it lasted mere seconds or an eternity, it was by far the best he'd ever had. It came to its end slowly and naturally, and he felt breathless afterward.

"Weird?" he asked huskily.

Kamala smiled and shook her head. He nodded in confirmation. "Good."

He leaned in this time. She sighed against his lips and brought her hand up to cup the side of his face, her fingers sliding over his clean-shaven jaw, eventually up to the nape of his neck to pull him closer still. She licked his lower lip and relished the faint groan that escaped him, and opened her mouth wider. She shivered deeply when his tongue met hers and two kisses became three, four, five, six, and beyond.

She didn't remember climbing into his lap, but she found herself there a couple minutes later with her hands underneath his halfway unbuttoned shirt. She'd forgotten that delicious warmth of firm skin and the delirious intoxicating scent of a man and his well-chosen cologne. She struggled to remember the last time she'd done this; not since before the project, not since that awful Christmas when her parents tried to introduce her to a suitor and it put her off men in general for a while. She hadn't been craving sex all that much because it had been so long she didn't think she even needed it. She'd forgotten all the little things. She'd forgotten how damn good it felt to have someone kiss her and run his hands down her spine and nibble her earlobe and—goodness gracious, she'd gone completely off the deep end, hadn't she?

"God damn me for saying this," Jack muttered, his voice several octaves deeper for obvious reasons. "But we just went from zero to a hundred at the speed of light. Are you sure about this?"

She nodded. "Absolutely not."

He chuckled. "Sorry."

"Don't be. I started it. It's good that at least one of us has an iota of decorum."

Jack paused. "I can't tell if that's a good or bad thing right now. I'm gonna go with bad."

She shook her head, looping her arms around his neck. "It's a good thing. There's no reason we should rush. It would cheapen this. Half the enjoyment of romance is the anticipation."

"True. So... five more minutes?"

She grinned, drifting closer. "Absolutely."

Ten minutes later, Kamala glided out the door to her car on ever-so-slightly shaky legs while Jack trailed behind her, smoothing his hair back down and re-buttoning his shirt. One of his male neighbors was walking his dog and shot him a smirk so smug that Jack glared and pointed towards the street. Said neighbor chuckled and guided the dog further down the block.

"So," Jack said, clearing his throat and opening the driver's side for her. "Drive safe."

She laughed softly. "You're cute when you're flustered."

"Laugh while you can, Dr. Anjali. I hereby declare war. I'm going to seduce the hell out of you as payback for all the teasing."

"Oh, are you now? I'm terrified."

He stooped down over the car door enough to kiss her, softly, nipping her lower lip just before whispering, "You should be."

She smiled wider. "Looking forward to it."

She drew him in for a final kiss, threading her fingers through his hair, down his shoulder, over his arm to his hand. As her hand passed his bicep, she felt him inhale sharply in pain. Kamala sent him a questioning look as he lowered his arm from where it rested atop the car door.

"Are you alright?"

"Yeah," he said with a slight cough, not meeting her gaze. "It stings sometimes."

"What about the painkillers?"

"Using them sparingly. Only got a week's worth, so I don't always get through the whole day. Don't worry about it. I'm fine. Text me when you get home."

She pressed her lips together, but nodded all the same and climbed into her car. He shut the door for her and stepped away from the curb, watching until her taillights were swallowed by the darkness.

# CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

FALLOUT

"I see you've been busy."

"Yes. Lots of ground to cover. How are you two faring?"

Detective Faraday snorted. "I've been trying to get rid of her, but she won't go home."

Evelyn Stubbs rolled her grey eyes. "I've been checking in on you, Julio, not babysitting, although from what the nurses tell me, that may actually be necessary."

Faraday scowled. "Who tattled on me?"

"All of them."

"Traitors."

Evelyn shook her head. "We're doing as well as we can. The surgery went well. He'll start physical therapy in a week."

"And I'll be back on the streets before you know it."

"God help the streets."

Faraday grinned wolfishly, then nodded to Kamala. "What have you got for us, doc? All we've seen so far is what the news has cobbled together."

Kamala took a deep breath and shuffled through a few photos on her phone, offering it to the pair. "That's Okegawa. He's in a coma. It's too early to tell if he'll ever come out of it. The damage was caused by a grenade, so there is a good chance he could die in that hospital and never even see his trial."

"Bastard got off easy," Faraday spat. "Brain damage, missing arm, and third degree burns aren't anything compared to what I'd do to him if I'd gone over there."

"Julio," Evelyn said gently, laying a hand on his forearm. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly.

"I know, Evey. Sorry." He handed the phone back to Kamala. "Accomplices?"

"Dead or in custody."

"What about the guy pulling the strings? Sugimoto's kid."

"Unfortunately, he's still in the wind. However, he was witnessed at the center of what happened in Tokyo. If they find him, we'll have enough evidence to bring him to justice as well."

"What about the feds? Do they still want nothing to do with it?"

"For the most part, yes. However, I spent an extended amount of time at the U.S. Embassy petitioning for assistance from the local authorities. The yakuza left behind a mountain of bodies at Sugimoto's R & D facility, and they injured a lot of cops when they went to retrieve Fujioka. They're angry and they want them brought to justice just as badly as we do. They've taken over and agreed to keep me in the loop on what they find."

"Good. I want to be in the loop as well. Soon as I'm back on my feet, I'll see if I can shove some weight around on our end. I want Colin's memory honored."

"It will be. I hope you both understand we did all that we could—"

"Don't be silly," Evelyn said. "You risked your lives. That's more than the average person would do. We're both grateful and we're even more grateful that you and Dr. Jackson returned home safely."

"Thank you. Please, if you ever need anything from me, don't hesitate to ask. If it's not an imposition, I'd like to stay in touch with you both."

"Certainly."

"Well, my dance card's pretty full with P.T. on the way, but sure," Faraday smiled, offering his hand. Kamala shook it.

Evelyn drew her into a hug. "Please be safe, Dr. Anjali."

The shorter woman drew back and clasped her hands. "Please call me Kamala. Jack sends his regards. He'll come by to see you as soon as he can."

"What's America's golden boy up to these days?" Faraday asked.

"Finishing up the project and looking to the future. That's where I'm heading afterward. We've got to round up the new batch of dragon DNA samples to begin the next set of trials."

"Hopefully this batch won't get killed or stolen, eh?"

Kamala smiled fiercely. "I'd like to see them try."

"Godspeed, Kamala. Give 'em hell."

"I shall. Get well soon, Detective. Take care, Evelyn."

She waved and strode down the hall towards the nurse's station. She waited patiently for the woman at the desk to finish the phone call she was on. "Excuse me, but I have a question about a friend of mine who was treated here earlier this morning."

The blonde nurse nodded. "Who would that be?"

"Dr. Rhett Jackson. He came in to get his bandages changed on his right arm. He suffered a gunshot wound through his bicep."

"Sure. What's your question?"

"Well, the wound was inflicted by a relatively large caliber bullet and my friend was prescribed painkillers. However, he was only given prescription for a week's worth."

"I see. Is that a problem?"

"Ma'am, my friend is a full time scientist. He works with his hands, and it requires heavy lifting on a weekly basis. It will take time for him to recover, but he won't be able to do so if he suffers chronic pain. A week's worth is insufficient."

The nurse eyed her. "And your friend told the doctor that he's suffering that much pain?"

"Yes."

"He asked you to intercede on his behalf?"

"No. Dr. Jackson is a rather stubborn man. He'd rather keep the pain to himself than question the doctor's prescription. I know what the long term problems can be with that type of injury. Enduring that pain can slow his reflexes, or worse, if he can't get the correct pain medications, he may seek other less-than-legal methods to procure them. I would like to avoid either of those possibilities."

"Ma'am, you have to understand the statistical likelihood that he'll become addicted to the pain medication. That is often why we only prescribe a week's supply for that type of injury. It's unhealthy to take them longer than that period of time—"

"Understanding is not a problem for me," Kamala said with a slight edge in her voice. "I'm a medical doctor myself, albeit a non-practicing one."

The nurse cleared her throat and seemed to rethink her approach. "If you'd like, I can send for the doctor who wrote the prescription and you can discuss it with him."

"I would appreciate that, thank you."

The nurse made a call over the intercom for Dr. Ed Gilmer. A portly man in his early fifties arrived several minutes later, muttering something to himself as he squinted at a chart through half-moon glasses. He glanced up from it after he reached the desk, addressing the nurse.

"What's this all about, Karen?"

"This young lady had some questions for you regarding the care of Dr. Rhett Jackson."

Dr. Gilmer stared blankly at her. "Your ten-thirty appointment this morning."

He kept staring. Karen sighed. "The dragon guy."

"Oh! Yes, yes, of course." He turned to Kamala. "What questions do you have for me, young lady?"

"My name is Kamala Anjali." She paused. "Dr. Kamala Anjali."

The doctor's spine stiffened. "Any relation to Dr. Daeshim Anjali?"

"Yes. He's my father."

"Oh my," he muttered. "What can I do for you, Dr. Anjali?"

"I wanted to discuss the possibility of extending the pain medication prescription you gave to Dr. Jackson this morning. I spend several hours with him every day, and with the extent of his arm injury, I believe he will require more than one week's worth of supply."

The male doctor cleared his throat and motioned towards the hallway. "Walk with me, please."

Once they were away from the desk, he lowered his voice. "You do realize that you don't have the authority or the permission to ask what you're asking, right?"

"Yes."

"Look, Dr. Anjali, the way things are done in this hospital is pretty routine. After all, the initial stitches that you performed when the injury was fresh were expert level. The wound didn't become infected and it's been taken care of since it happened. Standard procedures in this hospital are one week, no more. We have a limited budget."

"I understand that, but a budget isn't an excuse to shortchange someone who doesn't know any better. I know him, Dr. Gilmer. Even with the pain meds, he favors that arm. Our mission to Tokyo may have been a success, but there is no guarantee there won't be further retaliation from the enemies we made there. I want him to be fully capable of normal activities, and that may include self-defense sooner rather than later."

Dr. Gilmer sighed and massaged the bridge of his nose. "Assuming that I went along with your request, what can you tell me about his personality? Does he have any vices?"

"He doesn't have addictive tendencies, if that's what you're getting at."

"Can you assure me without a doubt that he's not going to come looking for more?"

"Yes. I'll be keeping an eye on his dosage and intake."

"How can you be so sure?"

Kamala cleared her throat. "We recently became... involved. There is a good chance I will be with him for extended hours, so I'll be able to monitor how much he takes."

Dr. Gilmer peered at her over his glasses. "Alright, I'll prescribe him an additional week. I expect him to show up for his next appointment for another analysis, and if I deem that he doesn't need to be on the pain meds any longer, I will withhold. Your father has supplied this hospital and several in the area with some top-notch doctors over the years. That is why I'm even humoring you. But you already know that, don't you?"

"I do."

He withdrew a pad from his lab coat and scribbled on it. He held it out. "This is a one-time deal, Dr. Anjali. Anything after this point and you'll owe me."

"Understood." She took the prescription and he walked away without another word. Kamala breathed out through her nose and headed for the pharmacy.

~*~

When Jack's cell phone sprang to life with the "la-la-la-la" chorus and chaotic guitar riff of The Fratellis' "For the Girl," he excused himself and stepped into the hallway, answering with a smirk.

"Are you even supposed to be awake right now? Or on a cell phone, no less?"

"Oh, shush, Jack. You're not the boss of me."

Jack grinned. "Good to hear your voice, Misaki. I think it's gotten sexier. It's all throaty and Kathleen Turner-ish."

She laughed softly. "You're barely old enough to know who that is."

"I was a teenage boy once. You're damned right I know who Jessica Rabbit is. Anyway, what've you got for me?"

"News."

"Is it good or bad?"

"Just... news. First things first, I'm not paralyzed."

Jack lifted the phone away from his face for a second so he could let out a relieved breath. She'd fuss if she heard him do it. "Excellent news, I'd say."

"Let me finish. I still have motor function, but it's going to take weeks before I'm back on my feet. The nerve damage is extensive. There'll be surgeries in my future, but I'll be able to walk before long."

"How's your arm?"

"Hurts like hell. It'll heal, but the doctors say it's likely I won't be able to feel much in my hand or fingers. I was lucky the whole arm didn't come off."

"Yeah, you don't wear enough eye makeup to become the Winter Soldier. By the way, I got your invoice. You didn't have to do that, you know."

"Of course I did. We both know you wouldn't have been able to come up with the full sum you owed without robbing a bank or trying to pay me back with your body."

"You offend me, madam. Surely you know I'd have paid you in backrubs."

" _Bakayarou_. Should have charged you. These medical bills are piling up already."

His grin faded. "Misaki—"

"Don't even go there. I'm a big girl. I can handle it."

"I know, but... I still wish it had been me instead of you."

"Of course you do, pig. You would've charged in guns blazing if the Tokyo police hadn't nailed your feet to the floor, and you'd be sharing a room with me right now, assuming you didn't end up in a pine box. I did what I had to do. You did the right thing. They're paid to be in the middle of a firefight. So am I. Or I used to be, at least."

Jack gnawed his lower lip. "Any idea what you'll do after you get out?"

"Not a clue. But that's the good thing about being stuck in this bed. Plenty of time to think. And plenty of time to scheme."

He scowled. "What are you up to?"

"I put some feelers out to see if we can get a line on where Yagami went."

"Misaki."

"Don't give me that tone. Do you want to know what I found or not?"

Jack sighed. "Go ahead."

"Someone drove him off the farm not long before the police arrived. Word is that he went to go see his sister to negotiate some kind of ceasefire between the Yamaguchi and the Inagawa-kai. They're way too visible right now and ever since Kamala talked to the embassy, the cops are campaigning to shut them down with extreme prejudice. The yakuza need things to get quiet again if they want to keep their operation open."

"Why go to his sister and not the head of the families themselves?"

"Keiko can get them to parlay with her since her old man ran with the Yamaguchi and the mantle's passed on to her now that Yagami's circling the drain. My guess is both sides will slip back under their respective rocks until things blow over, and start working on the data they stole from you and Kamala."

He gritted his teeth. "Yeah, I'm not looking forward to that. With Yagami and that other scientist Minako, we're going to have competition very soon."

"And I assume you can't do anything legally to stop them?"

"Not since Kamala essentially gave them permission, though under duress. Hear anything else?"

"Sort of. How much have you been keeping up with the news?"

"Been too busy. What's up?"

"They just unveiled that they found the first intact fossil of Baba Yaga that actually has DNA remains. I would bet a million yen that a piece of it is miraculously missing. I think that's their game. Pete is a marvel of epic proportions, but she's small fry compared to Baba Yaga. If the yakuza want to make their mark on history as your competitor, they'll start with her."

He rubbed his face. "That's an extraordinarily bad idea. Like _Jurassic Park_ bad idea. The only predators we still have on this earth that are anywhere near her size lives in the ocean, and so there's no need to control them. Baba Yaga could lay waste the entire city of Tokyo in about an hour and a half if they brought her to life. Even with modern weapons, she'd do a hell of a lot of damage before they stopped her."

"My thoughts exactly. I'll keep you posted with what I find."

"Thanks. You're a literal lifesaver." He hesitated. "To that end... you're not thinking about doing anything rash, are you?"

"What?" she asked quietly. "Like paying off some medical staff to go into Okegawa's room and pull the plug?"

Jack swallowed hard. "Yes."

"Relax. Death is the easy way out for that punk. No, I want him alive. I hope he's trapped inside himself, perfectly able to think about how he got there by his own actions and how he's lost it all. If he ever wakes up, he'll rot in jail for the rest of his life. That's good enough for me."

"And what about Kyōya? Are you going to pursue the case again?"

She sighed. "I... don't know. Okegawa was pushing my buttons, but that doesn't mean he wasn't telling the truth. One day at a time. Once I'm out of this bed, I'll have a lot of choices to make, that included."

He heard a brief rustling sound, as if she'd put her hand over the mic. She returned a moment later, sounding weary. "The doctors are back. I'll catch up with you when I can."

"Take care, Misaki."

"You do the same, Jack."

He hung up and headed back into the lab, where Kamala and their P.I. Matt Buchanan were waiting for him.

As corny as it sounded, Jack's heart did flutter just a bit when he walked towards Kamala, and he could feel the smile trickling its way across his mouth. He'd have to work on not doing that in public, but the urge was hard to resist. From what he could tell, the feeling was mutual; she looked like she was hiding a smile as well.

"Sorry about that. It was Misaki."

"How is she?" Kamala asked.

"Better. She's dropping a line to see what she can find out about the Sugimoto siblings. And before you ask, no, I didn't put her up to it."

Kamala smirked. "Didn't think you did. Sounds like Misaki alright. She might be the only person I know who is as stubborn as you are."

"Gosh, you're gonna make me blush in a second."

Matt cleared this throat. "Don't stop on my account."

"Sorry," the pair chorused.

"Don't worry about it. I'm glad. You two have been dancing around each other long enough. It's about time."

The two exchanged embarrassed glances. Matt laughed. "Everyone saw it coming. There was quite an office pool going on you two."

Kamala gave him an arch look. "Was there now?"

He held up his hands in supplication. "If it makes you feel any better, I did not participate." He paused. "But if I had, I'd have won a cool two-hundred."

Jack rolled his eyes. "It's always the quiet ones. Anyway, let's get on with it. What were you able to gather for us?"

Matt grinned. "That's the fun part. Your project, even with its hiccups, greased plenty of palms in the scientific community. We've got our veritable pick of the litter."

He set a binder on the lab table. "Naturally, we need to take each candidate into careful consideration, but these are the species we'd be able to get a viable sample from so far."

Kamala flipped it open. "Diamondback dragon. Cherubim species. Found mostly in desert regions of the Middle East. Uses venom to catch live prey, but prefers to scavenge. Allegedly a pack animal. Most commonly described as tiny vultures of the reptile kingdom."

Next page. "Dart-backed wyrm. Aquatic species. Found in the UK. Survives on fish and only surfaces to mate and lay its eggs. Ended up being the species that explains the Loch Ness Monster phenomenon."

Next page. "Horn-nosed digger dragon. Creates intricate underground caves in North America forest climates. Nocturnal. Often mistaken for bats, which they happen to feed on."

Next page. "Bearded Chinese dragon. Highland species. One of the larger species recorded in history. The Smithsonian has a skin measuring fifteen feet from snout to tail. Was among the first to go extinct when the dragon hunters set up shop."

Next page. "Hercules dragon. Found in the Sahara. Its skin is so thick it can withstand .22 caliber bullets. Dragon hunters used its pelt as armor when going after the Seraphim species because it's also inflammable."

Last page. "Nordic sea serpent. The first recorded dragon who can withstand freezing temperatures, which led them to believe it's some kind of hybrid species. The blubber that insulated its internal organs went for millions on the black market before it went extinct, because it could burn for record breaking days at a time. It used to be nicknamed Greek Fire Fuel."

"Gods, Matt, this is incredible," Kamala said as she glanced up at him. "How on earth do we even begin to narrow them down?"

"Well, that's what we're here to discuss. I know you're both as excited as I am, but we have to think logically about which is the best to start with on the next trial."

Jack sat on his stool and stared down at the last page. "Alright, let's take into consideration the kind of budget we have for the care and placement of the dragon we choose. Pete's already costing us a fortune since she ended up about ten times the size we predicted, so we've had to work through the veterinary hospital for her upkeep. We'd secure a whole new budget for the following project, but the more famous the dragon the more likely it is that we'd need better security. My gut says we should stick with one of the smaller species."

"Agreed," Kamala said. "That rules out the last three candidates in the binder, leaving the diamondback, the dart-backed, and the horn-nosed dragons. All three are manageable in terms of their environments, and they're less dangerous than their counterparts."

Matt flipped to the second page. "Well, perhaps then we can rule out the dart-backed dragon. She needs an aquatic environment and organizing that would be rather difficult in the long run. The ideal situation is to be able to keep it here on the campus grounds."

"Okay, so then we're between the horn-nosed and the diamondback," Jack said. "Offhand, we might have better luck with the horn-nosed since our climate is conducive to what it would be used to. All we'd have to provide is an enclosure with plenty of dirt and we can let them run wild. Plus, it's a species that used trees for mating and nesting during the warmer months, and that wouldn't be hard to do either."

"True, but we know less about the diamondback dragon," Kamala said. "The horn-nosed dragon was among the last of the dragons to die out and so they were well documented. The diamondback is missing a large amount of data about its habits. We stand to learn more about it overall."

"Good point," Matt said. "These are just profiles on the dragons. Let's do a full run up on our final two choices. Head to the library and see what you can dig up. I'll make a few calls to the dracologists and see if they can arrange a meet-up for this week. How's the paper coming so far?"

"Grueling," Jack said with a weary smile. "But it's getting there. I emailed you the most recent iteration this morning."

"I'll send it back by tonight." Matt checked his Movado. "Let's reconvene in a couple hours with what we find. Good luck, nerds."

"Aye, aye, Cap'n." Jack opened the door for Kamala and they headed into the hallway.

"Can't believe they had a pool going," he grumbled. "Am I that obvious?"

"Well, you're not exactly a subtle man, if that's what you're asking," Kamala replied. "No one said that's a bad thing. Which reminds me."

She drew the prescription out of her lab coat pocket and handed it to him. He skimmed it and lifted an eyebrow. "Uh, when, how, where, and why?"

Kamala rolled her eyes. "I'm a bloody doctor, Jack."

He sighed and tucked it inside his pocket. "Guess I am that obvious."

"And stubborn."

"And stubborn, yes. Sorry. I don't exactly like how I feel when I'm on the painkillers. Makes me foggy-headed and I need to be sharp right now."

"You also need to heal. You won't be able to attend your self-defense classes until your arm gets better."

He stopped walking. "How'd you—seriously, am I that transparent?"

Kamala held the door to the parking lot open, smirking at him. "As a jellyfish."

Jack pursed his lips. "Faye told you, didn't she?"

She just kept smirking. He sighed. "Nothing is sacred with you womenfolk. I was going to show off my skills when you least expected it. It was going to be so impressive that you'd instantly fall in love with me. Now it's all gone to ruin."

Kamala snorted, letting the door swing shut behind them both as they headed down the steps to her Volkswagen. "That sounds like you're trying to be some kind of love ninja."

He grinned. "Now there's an idea."

"For what? Porn?"

"No. Well, yes. But spontaneity is supposed to be part of the courting process, isn't it?"

She hit the key fob. The Volkswagen chirped cheerfully. "Who says we're courting?"

He sent her a look she hadn't seen before, one that made a set of rather good shivers flow down her back. Jack was terrible at being subtle, but he'd somehow managed to make his brown eyes simmer with the slightest amount of heat and his lips adopt the kind of smile that promised a night of wicked decadence in her near future.

Instead of replying, he just winked and got in the car.

That was _definitely_ new.

~*~

To Jack's utter relief, his mother Edie looked significantly less angry as she walked down the steps of the hotel exit with her suitcase. He gave her a kiss on the cheek and offered to take the suitcase, which she staunchly refused. He shook his head and popped the trunk of his Mazda to let her put it in herself, then opened the passenger's side door for her anyway. Once she was all buckled up, they set out for the airport.

He let the radio serenade them with some soft rock for a while before drumming his hands on the steering wheel and diving in.

"Soooo... how did it go?"

"How did what go?" she asked.

"Pizza. Beer. With the man you pledged your eternal devotion to, for better or worse."

Edie rolled her eyes. "I knew you put him up to that."

"Hey," Jack protested. "I had to find some way to get you two talking again. It's the culinary Switzerland. You can't be mad at someone who brings you pizza and beer."

"If you say so," she grumbled, crossing her arms beneath her chest. "We spoke. He apologized and asked me to at least hear him out after we get home."

"And...?"

She sighed. "I agreed. We're on different flights, but I won't leave him hanging before we have another long conversation about all of this."

Jack exhaled. "I'm glad to hear that, Ma. Thank you."

"Yeah, yeah. Enough about me. How's your project coming?"

"Good. We just settled on the next species of dragon that we'd like to try the method on. It's called the diamondback dragon. They're kind of like miniature vultures. After the paper gets published, we'll begin the trials."

"Fantastic. How's Pete?"

"Safe. We're learning so much about her every day, honestly. We're about to start working on behavioral training this coming week to see if there is a way to get her socialized. She's aggressive to everyone but me and Kamala, so it would be safer for everyone if we taught her not to attack everything in sight."

Edie's eyes sparkled. "And how are things with Kamala?"

"Same as always."

"Your pants are smoking."

He glanced down at his slacks, confused. "Huh?"

"Because you're lying," she elaborated.

Jack groaned. "Ma."

"I know that look, little boy. You are completely smitten with that girl. Have you told her yet?"

He heaved a sigh. "If it will make you drop the issue, yes."

"What did she say?"

Jack squirmed in his seat, staring out the windshield as if his life depended on it. "We had our first date last night."

Edie smiled slowly. "About damn time. This is the last date I've heard about since that girl Sam. I'm glad you're finally putting yourself out there again. Kamala's a lovely girl. You hold on to her, y'hear me?"

"Yes ma'am. Heard from the family lately?"

"Yes. My mother said she should be able to come see you in a couple of weeks, and your Aunt Pamela and Uncle Ray will be with her. The rest wants to see you at Thanksgiving, so you'd better try to get some kind of schedule together so I can tell them if you'll be there."

He shot her an incredulous look. "You think I'd let my supposed fame get in between me and your world famous sweet potato pie? Ha! Of course I'll be there."

Her smile faded. Jack frowned. "Hey. What's up?"

She shook her head. "It's nothing."

He reached over and held her hand, softening his voice. "C'mon, Ma. What is it?"

"I worry about you," she whispered after a while. "More than I should. More than I ever did when you just in undergrad or working on your doctorate. This whole thing with Pete, it... honestly, it scares me, Rhett. That bullet wound, what happened to your friend Fujioka, all of it made me realize you're not safe anymore. The world is changing. I can't protect you from it and it's killing me. How am I supposed to just go home and live a normal life when I know that there are monsters out there?"

"You don't need to protect me. You gave me everything I'll ever need to survive out there. Why the hell do you think I'm so smart? That's one hundred percent Edith Holly-Jean Jackson's fault. All Dad gave me was his dashing good looks."

She laughed hoarsely and squeezed his fingers. "Language, young man."

"Sorry. I'll be as careful as I can. I promise."

"Good boy."

~*~

"Kamala, your head's on fire."

The petite scientist blinked a few times and glanced aside to see her best friend smiling next to her. She slowed her legs on the stationary bicycle to make the constant ticking sound of the spokes to slowly abate. "Huh?"

Faye snorted. "Wow, you're definitely gone. I called your name like three times to ask if you wanted me to get you something from the vending machine."

"Oh." Kamala picked up her Powerade bottle, which only held about a sip or two of electric blue liquid left. "Sure. Water's fine."

"Gotcha." Faye disappeared around the corner and returned a moment later with a red Powerade for herself and a Dasani for Kamala. She accepted it and took a big gulp before plopping it in the cup holder where the bicycle's heart monitor was.

"What's with you? It's almost ten o'clock at night and yet you've got all this energy to burn," Faye said, leaning an arm on the handlebars.

"Well, this is the first day I've had time to exercise since we got back," Kamala admitted, checking her pulse. "I have been a bit pent up."

Faye's blue eyes flashed then. "Pent up, huh? I'm pretty sure I know the cure for that. It's about six-foot two, blushes easily, and would follow you off a cliff if you asked it."

Kamala glared. "I thought we discussed the fact that we're going to keep my love life off-limits for the time being."

"We discussed it. I never agreed. Come on, Kam. You've been on one date with the guy and I'm already seeing the signs that you're into him."

"I'm not going to rush things," she said, starting the bike back up. "Rushing hurts long term relationships. Besides, exercise does a body good."

"So does an orgasm."

Kamala missed the pedal with one foot. Faye broke into giggles and dodged when Kamala threw her towel at her. "Hey, don't get mad at me. You're the one who told me Fujioka said the man is, and I quote, 'the valedictorian of cunnilingus.' It's hard to forget."

Kamala hung her head. "Why? Why do I insist on telling you everything?"

"Because you love me," Faye said, throwing one long leg over her own bike and climbing back onto it. "And because in between inappropriate comments, I usually give good advice. My point is that you should try not to overthink it. Yes, having sex with him on a second date would probably count as rushing things, but you've known him for a year. Maybe it wouldn't be a complete disaster to get physical."

"That's not the issue."

Faye arched an eyebrow. "It's not?"

Kamala cleared her throat, hating that her cheeks began to flush as she spoke. "No. I, uh, sort of forgot how enticing it is. We got to second base last night, and we probably would have gone further if he hadn't stopped me."

"Wait, wait, wait. He stopped you?"

She staunchly refused to look at Faye. "Yes."

Faye pressed a hand over her mouth, hiding a smile. "So, you jumped him?"

Kamala's cheeks darkened further. "Yes."

"Oh, sweet irony, thy name is Kamala. How the high and mighty have fallen. But, to be fair, the man's a helluva kisser. Let me guess. You're worried you won't make it to date three without sleeping with him, huh?"

Kamala merely nodded. Faye started pedaling. They let the whirling continue for a bit.

"I suppose this is the part where I tell you to be a responsible adult and consider your feelings first, not your body. Blah blah blah, you should know what you're getting into, blah blah blah, sex isn't everything, etcetera. Well, part of that may be true, but you shouldn't let it get you this worked up about it. The nice thing about the two of you is that your relationship has evolved naturally over time. Intimacy has always been a part of it. Will it change things? Yes. Absolutely. But that doesn't necessarily mean it'll change things for the worse. He's already seen the real you and he stuck around. That says a lot, doesn't it?"

"Yeah," Kamala said rather softly. "I suppose it does."

"Great. So, metaphorically speaking, he's seen you naked. Now he just needs to do it literally."

"I'm going to hurt you after we're done."

"Kinky. I like it. Did you patch things up with your folks before they left?"

"More or less. My father and I are still at an impasse, but at least I know why he acts the way he does. Ego aside, he just wants me to live up to my potential. Maybe someday he'll finally understand that I am doing what I love."

"He'll come around. Give it time."

"I certainly hope so, _saheli_."

An hour later, Kamala dropped Faye off at her current boy-toy Charlie's place after their workout and drove home. To her surprise, there was a black sports car parked in her usual space, and a man she didn't recognize leaned up against it, smoking a cigarette. She pulled into a nearby spot and kept him in her peripheral as she got out of her car to head into the apartment.

He didn't immediately move towards her. She almost thought he was just a friend of one of the tenants until she noticed his attire: leather jacket, white t-shirt, black jeans, and Vans. He didn't look much older than her, but he also didn't look like a college student. His hair was thick, dark, and slicked back with oil.

Her sneakers hit the sidewalk and that was when he spoke in a soft voice with a Boston accent. "Dr. Anjali?"

She sighed under her breath. "Yes?"

"Sorry to bother you at such a late hour, but I've been waiting for you."

She turned slightly and didn't bother to smile. "Sir, it's been a long day. If you're with the press, you'll have to wait your turn like everyone else. I only do interviews during the daytime hours, and never outside of my home. Please have a good evening."

"I'm not with the press."

"Well, same policy if you want an autograph, a photo, advice on how to run a successful research grant, or all of the above. It's late. I need to go to bed. Excuse me."

She got another step before he spoke again. "Did you ever find the guy who popped Detective Stubbs?"

Kamala froze.

Blood thundered through her ears. She balled her hands into fists and turned slowly to face the man, who by now had pushed off from the car.

"What did you say?"

The man offered a humorless smile. "Heard on the news that some Jap is laid out in a hospital back in Tokyo. That's the one who was in the back of the police car, right? Is he the one who did it?"

"Explain to me why that is any of your business."

"Let's just say that I represent an organization of concerned individuals. Individuals who would like to prevent such a dangerous event from happening to you or your loved ones."

"Let me guess," she snarled. "For a price."

"Everything has a price, Dr. Anjali."

"Thanks, but I can take care of myself. Beat it."

"Sure. No harm done, sweetheart." Again, she turned to leave, but he had one more question before she could.

"How was that doughnut, by the way?"

Kamala counted to ten. "What doughnut?"

"The one you had after you dropped hot blondie off at her boyfriend's place."

She whirled. "You were following me?"

"It wasn't hard. And that's my point. If I could do that no problem, who's to say you won't get some schmuck who's got a crush doing the same thing? Think you can take care of yourself if some pervert wanted a piece of that ass? I'm offering you real protection from the monsters out there. You'll never see them coming until it's too late."

"Final warning," she growled. "Get the hell out of here or I'll call the cops."

He tossed the cigarette aside. "You will, huh? Alright, fine. Make me."

Before she could blink, he was in front of her and her purse was lying ten feet away in the grass. She hadn't seen him move. How had he yanked it off so quickly?

Her mouth flew open to scream, but his hand closed on her throat and squeezed. A faint gurgle escaped instead and he shoved her up against his car, his smoky breath invading her nostrils. His other hand pinned her right hand to the window and his thin body crushed the air out of her lungs. "How about now, baby? Still think you can protect yourself? Don't make this harder than it needs to be. Slip me a little something and I'll make all the bad men go bye-bye."

Kamala summoned every last bit of strength left in her body and kneed him in the groin as hard as she could.

The man howled and flopped to one side, clutching his crotch with one hand. She slammed her right elbow into his temple and he fell over with a pained groan. Kamala didn't hesitate. She kicked him in the ribs once, twice, thrice, her eyes blurred with tears, her breathing ragged, her voice hoarse as she screamed "Fuck you!" over and over. She didn't stop until the guy lay curled up in the fetal position, his arms cradling his ribs as he wheezed.

Shaking from head to toe, she stumbled back over the sidewalk and into the front yard of her apartment. She dialed 911, sat down in the damp grass, and stared into the darkness until the sirens were audible.

# CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

TERMINAL VELOCITY

Kamala didn't truly register most of the next hour until she heard a familiar baritone voice echoing through the hallway, not even with Faye at her side holding her hand. She glanced up from the paper cup half-full of coffee to see Jack barreling through the bullpen with hell in his brown eyes, demanding to know where she was. A faint smile brushed her lips when he saw her sitting by the detective's desk and relief flooded over his entire expression.

She stood up and set the coffee down, not resisting when he pulled her into a tight hug. Her eyes closed as he slid one large hand into her messy hair, the other around the small of her back, his lips pressed to her forehead. He didn't say a word at first. He just held her. She let the whole world fall away for that small amount of time.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. "I'm so sorry, Kam."

"It's not your fault," she murmured into his shirt. "It's no one's fault but his."

He pulled away, cradling her face in both of his hands, fire in his gaze. "Where is he?"

"Interrogation. It's basically an open-and-shut case. Assault, harassment, extortion, trespassing. He won't be seeing daylight any time soon."

"No, especially not after I wring his goddamn neck." He started to move her aside, but she pressed her hand to his chest.

"Jack, no. What's done is done. Beating him into a pulp won't do anything but get you in trouble as well."

"True, but it'll make me feel better. Isn't that reason enough?"

She smiled weakly. "You're such a Neanderthal."

"Ugh-ugh!" He exhaled and nodded a few times. "Alright, fine, I won't kill him. Can't promise what I'll do if I see him before they put him in lockup."

"You and me both, brother," Faye said, sipping Kamala's coffee. Jack frowned as he realized she had a bandage on her left hand.

"Uh, Faye? Do you have something you'd like to share with the rest of the class?"

She stared steadily up at him. "Charlie dropped me off. They were taking the assailant into interrogation when I arrived. I got there first."

"And?"

"Gave the bastard a black eye."

Jack grinned. "Atta girl."

Faye shrugged. "The cops weren't happy about it, but they're not pressing charges. After all, no one will believe a cute little thing like me did that to him."

"The perks of being beautiful. Glad I taught you how to throw a proper punch after all."

Jack returned his gaze to Kamala. "How much longer do they want you here?"

"The paperwork's all been filed. Once they get a confession, we're free to go until the court date."

"Okay," he said, pushing a lock of hair behind her ear. "What do you need me to do?"

Kamala found herself surprised at how that one question moved her. Her stomach churned, her throat got tight and narrow, and her eyes burned with tears. He hadn't said anything different than what he would have if they were still just friends, and yet... it meant so much more now. She felt awful. Her head pounded, her eyes itched, her feet throbbed with pain from how many times she'd kicked the scumbag, and all she wanted to do was sleep. She was a complete and utter mess, and yet he barely seemed to register it. He looked at her as if she was something hanging in the Louvre, for gods' sake.

"Get me out of here," she whispered. "Somewhere safe."

He wrapped her in his arms again. "You got it, angel."

~*~

She woke up in Jack's bed.

Notably, still wearing clothes.

Jack wasn't next to her this time. She wouldn't have woken up at all if not for the heavenly aroma of coffee wafting in from the kitchen. She groaned and rolled her head to the side, spilling her dark hair out of the way so she could squint into the morning light. Her cell phone read half-past ten am. She hadn't slept this late in ages.

Her throat burned with pain, but faintly. She'd examined it herself and knew nothing was wrong aside from slight bruising. She hadn't broken her foot kicking the assailant, but it would definitely be sore for a few days. Ibuprofen would do the trick in the meantime.

She cuddled the warm pillow against her cheek and shut her eyes again, not wanting to rise and face the world just yet. A moment later she heard heavy footsteps and opened them to see Jack in his night attire: an old, wrinkled MIT t-shirt and light blue striped pajama pants. As always, his hair stuck straight up off his forehead and he smiled at her as if she were pure sunshine through a break in the storm clouds.

"Morning," he said, sitting next to her. "How'd you sleep?"

Kamala wrinkled her brow, thinking about it. "Disturbingly well, considering the circumstances. You?"

"Pretty girl in my bed. How do you think I slept?"

She rolled her eyes. "Cheap flattery will get you nowhere, Dr. Jackson."

"True. That's why I made coffee."

"My hero." She slid from beneath the comforter and leaned in just enough to press a small, grateful kiss to his lips. He sighed contently and bumped her forehead with his.

"Glad you're okay."

"Me too."

To her surprise, the coffee wasn't alone: there was also a hilariously enormous stack of pancakes next to the Keurig perched on his counter. She rubbed her stomach as it growled and got two mugs out of the cabinet while he got the paper plates and silverware. "Two meals in two days. I'm liking the five-star treatment."

"Tip of the iceberg," he said. "I'm going to spoil you rotten. Home cooked meals, foot rubs, bubble baths; you name it, I'll do it. Your wish is my command."

"I'm not used to being pampered, but I do like that foot massage idea." She brought the mugs over to the table and thanked him when he handed her the pancakes. To her utter delight, the pancakes were sublime. She skipped carbs as often as possible aside from the occasional pasta, so indulging in the breakfast treat for the first time in months made her sigh happily in between bites. Even better, he didn't press her to talk during the meal. She needed the quiet to order her thoughts and stay calm after such an ordeal.

Once her plate was clean, she wiped her mouth and glanced at her phone. "I overslept quite a lot. We should get going."

"Oh, that. Right. We're taking the day off," Jack said, collecting her plate and taking it to the trashcan.

She stared after him. "Pardon me?"

"We'll work on the paper from home. It'll give us time to catch up and get our ducks in a row."

Kamala crossed her arms. "Jack, we have a mountain of things to do. We can't afford to take a day off."

"Then let's call it a Work from Home Day. Want some more coffee?"

"No, thank you. Look, I know that you're trying to take care of me, but it's not necessary. I'm fine."

Jack rinsed out their mugs and then came back over, taking a seat on arm of the couch. He folded his hands and met her gaze firmly. "Can I be honest with you for a second?"

"Of course."

"The day after my Dad..." Jack winced. "The day after I broke my arm, I got out of the hospital and I went about my day like normal. My mom tried to make me stay home from school, but I insisted that she let me go, so I went. Around fourth period, I was at my locker and I was having trouble with the combination to get it open. It happened sometimes. Basically just a mild inconvenience most of the time. After about the fifth try, I snapped. I punched the door so hard that I caused a hairline fracture along the back of my hand. There was this huge dent in the middle of the locker door in the shape of my fist. They made me go to the office and wait for my mother to take me to the emergency room to get stitches."

He held out his hand. Kamala traced her fingertips over the edge of his knuckles and noticed that there were indeed tiny faded scars across his skin. He kept going. "My mother told me to stay home the next day and I didn't fight her on it. Sometimes being fine isn't enough. Sometimes we get so used to being strong that we're actually making ourselves weaker by slapping a Band-Aid on the problem and marching on. Give yourself some time to deal with what just happened to you. It may not seem like it right now, but it will have an impact on you eventually. I just don't want you to put your hand through a locker, metaphorical or otherwise."

Kamala digested his words before finally nodding. "You're right. I hate it, but you're right. If our situation were reversed, I'd have told you the same thing."

She shot him a playful look. "Not that you'd listen."

"Hey, I'd listen. Eventually." He patted the side of her knee. "Come on. Let's get to work."

Like all days off, it flew by at light-speed. One minute, they were sharing the couch and composing the scores and scores of data into comprehensible paragraphs and brightly colored charts, and the next she heard a knock at the door from the Chinese delivery guy with their dinner. After a whole carton of steamed white rice and vegetarian-style Lo Mein, she set her laptop aside and stretched out on the squishy cushions with an exhausted sigh.

"I think my brain's had enough for today."

"Seconded," Jack said, shutting his own laptop. "We made quite a dent in it. I think we've earned a break."

Kamala tucked her hands beneath her head and shut her eyes as she listened to the faint melody of Al Green on the sound system. A moment later, she felt Jack's hands lifting her feet into his lap and then wrapping around her right one. He started massaging the arch of her foot in slow, careful movements that led her to believe he'd done it before, and to marvelous effect.

"Dr. Jackson," she mused, not opening her eyes. "You're trying to seduce me."

"Balderdash," Jack said cheerfully. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

It didn't take long for her to melt into the couch from the simple pleasure of his strong hands working out the tension in her injured foot. She very nearly drifted off to sleep, but managed to hold off as she considered if she should spend the night again or ask him to drop her off at her apartment. Her heart rate spiked at the thought of being there so soon after the attack. She forced herself to breathe slow and deep, and eventually the tension gathering in her belly eased. Too soon. Maybe just one more night.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Jack asked quietly.

"Not yet," she murmured back. "Need time."

"I understand. Wanna watch TV?"

"No."

"Wanna watch a movie?"

"No."

He paused. "Want me to shut up and keep rubbing your feet?"

"Or something else," she said, and then immediately realized that had been aloud instead of just inside her head.

Jack went absolutely still. Kamala cursed herself a few thousand times and sat up, slipping her feet from beneath his warm hands. "Sorry. Not thinking clearly."

"It's okay. We're both adults here. I'll, uh, start on the dishes." He rose and headed for the kitchen.

Kamala ran a hand through her hair and sighed, forcing herself to speak up. "Jack, wait."

He stopped in mid-stride.

"Maybe you should just take me back to the apartment."

He didn't turn around. "Why?"

"Because... I'm not..." She struggled with the words at first. "I feel safe when I'm with you. Safer than I've felt in a long time, and the more we're alone, the more likely it is that I'll do something stupid."

"And what constitutes as 'stupid,' exactly?"

"I haven't had sex in almost a year. For personal reasons. And yet all I can think about when we're alone is throwing you on this couch and tearing your clothes off. Last time I checked, that's probably a stupid thing to do right now."

"Stupid isn't exactly the word I would use, but go on."

"I like you," she whispered, as if scared that saying it too loudly would make it more true, more dangerous, more potent. "I don't want to mess this up. You're too important to me." She stared at her toes and listened to the carpet creak slightly as he walked towards her.

He knelt in front of her and tipped her chin upward so she'd look at him. "I'm not going anywhere. Neither are you. You can't mess this up because I'm too damned stubborn to let you go even if the worst should happen. If you want to wait, we'll wait. If you need me right now, I'm here. It's not about timing. It's about what will make you the happiest. Tell me what that is and I promise I'll do my best to make it happen." He smiled. "I can even recite those famous Bible verses, if it makes you feel any better. Love is patient. Love is kind. It does not envy—"

She kissed him. He forgot how to breathe. He forgot basic mathematics. He forgot his entire college education, how to change a tire, how to boil rice, and how to tie his shoes. The only thing that existed in the entire universe, as far as his mind was concerned, was Dr. Kamala Sahana Anjali.

She drew away just enough to whisper one thing.

"Take me to bed."

~*~

"I've officially made up my mind."

With tremendous effort, Kamala pried her heavy eyelids open and tilted her head enough to glance up at Jack. "Have you, now?"

"Yep," he said. "No one on earth is allowed to call me Rhett except for you."

She snorted, lifting her eyebrows in question. "And why is that?"

He flicked his gaze down at her, his smirk steamy. "Because no one's said it the way you did a couple minutes ago."

She propped her head up on one arm and returned the smirk with the same amount of heat. "To be fair, I had good reason to say it that way."

"Either way, kudos. That was the sexiest goddamn thing I've ever heard in my life."

She shook her head, but leaned in all the same to press a kiss to his lips. "Glad I could impress you, Dr. Jackson."

He waggled his eyebrows. "I like the doctor part too. Let's definitely make that a thing."

She laughed. "Noted."

He rolled onto his side and curled an arm around her waist, drawing circles over the small of her back with his fingertips. Her eyes dropped closed for a while as she enjoyed the simple sensation and the cocoon of warmth created by their bare bodies beneath the sheets. She hadn't known what to expect crossing the line from friends to lovers, but so far, her fears had been unfounded. She felt calm. Relaxed. Peaceful. That hadn't been the case for her in a long time. She was pretty sure she'd made the right call. Not that she'd ever admit as much to Faye.

She had to suppress a wistful sigh under Jack's delicate caresses. One wouldn't have guessed a man his size with underlying anger issues would be tender, but he'd surprised her. With all that she knew of his history, she'd expected something primal from him during their first time, and yet it had been devastatingly intimate. Her past romantic partners were overeager when they finally consummated the relationship, sometimes skipping what was honestly her favorite part of sex. Jack didn't. She'd never experienced being the full focus before, the center of attention, the main attraction, in bed. She was definitely a fan.

Truthfully, the only thing that had startled Kamala had been those last savory moments of lovemaking. She'd had good lovers before, though certainly not as generous. Sometimes it took more than one try, but not with Jack. They hadn't exchanged a single word the whole time and yet he picked up on the smallest things: places she loved to be touched, spots she loved to be kissed, as if he'd known all along. She couldn't put her finger on why it unnerved her until that shining, perfect moment when he released her and she realized how much she had held back before, how she had been hiding from the men in her life even in the most intimate setting two people could enter. It had taken him minutes to break through walls she'd been building for years. She knew, deep down, that this was the beginning of something great and terrifying.

"How's your arm?" she asked a while later without opening her eyes.

"Fine." She looked at him then. "I'm taking the painkillers, I swear. I'm a fast healer. Besides, I'm supposed to be fussing over you, not the other way around."

He lifted his hand to her neck, where there was a faint ring of bruises circling her throat. His brown eyes softened as they fell across the purplish patches of damaged skin. Kamala touched his hand gently. "I'm alright."

"I know," he whispered. "Always said you were stronger than me. Meant it, too."

"That scares me."

"What does?"

She bit her lower lip. "How much you believe in me. Your faith in me is so powerful, so unflinching. I've spent most of my life not caring what anyone thinks of me, except for perhaps my parents, and yet I think I would regret it if I didn't live up to your expectations. That's dangerous."

"That's also normal. We never want to let the people we care about down. I don't think I could live with myself if I disappointed you either. At least it gives us something else in common. We're both human."

He paused. "Well, I am. Still convinced you're an angel who decided to grace us puny mortals with your divine presence."

Kamala rolled her eyes. "You're so corny, Jack. But I'm glad you've given me a pet name that I can live with."

"What? You weren't digging smoochie-boochie?"

She narrowed her eyes at him. "I will bite your nose off if you call me that."

"I'll make you a deal. Don't call me adorable and I won't call you smoochie-boochie."

Kamala scowled. "That's just not fair."

He shrugged. "Them's the breaks, angel."

She let out a dramatic sigh. "Well, I don't know. Perhaps if you were to sweeten the deal..."

"Ah," he said, sliding his hand down over her shoulder and across her back. She suppressed a shiver as his fingers glided along the length of her spine and lower to more curvaceous territory. "Makes sense. I've made my opening statement. Now I have to present evidence to back up the argument."

"Exactly," she mumbled, her eyes rolling back as the wandering hand found its target. "You are an intellectual, after all. Must do the research."

He clucked his tongue softly. "Such a tedious job."

She bared her teeth in an eager grin, her brown eyes glittering like jewels as she lifted the sheets. "Get to work, Dr. Jackson."

He winked before disappearing underneath them. "Whatever you say, Dr. Anjali."

She awoke the next morning to find that once more, to her surprise, she'd slept like a baby with nary a nightmare in sight. Even more surprising, Jack had curled himself around her during the night and she didn't feel suffocated or intruded upon. Her past lovers had been more muscular, heavier, more possessive. He was solid and steadfast, yet she felt almost weightless in his arms. All at once, it came to her.

He was her anchor.

She smiled and drifted off for a while longer until Jack's phone began to vibrate and chime with the piano beats of Bleacher's "I Wanna Get Better." He didn't budge. She swallowed a laugh, rolled over, and picked up the phone, holding it up to his ear. He growled and shoved his head beneath the pillow to escape.

"Good morning, my dragon," she drawled over the music. "Time to get up."

"No," he said, his tone muffled but stubborn all the same.

Kamala turned the volume up until the grumpy scientist at her side finally snatched the phone away and turned it off with a resigned sigh.

"Fine, fine," he muttered. "I'm up. You'd better not be a morning person, or I'm calling this entire relationship off."

"Too bad," she said. "It's a package deal."

"Can I return it?"

She swatted him with her pillow before settling down on it again. "We took yesterday off. That has consequences. We have to go back to real life today."

"Yippee," he deadpanned. "I love being an adult. So worth it."

"Yes, it is. Now get up."

Jack yawned and sat up. Kamala openly admired the view of his shoulders and back muscles as he stretched his arms over his head and cracked his neck. He noticed her noticing him and something decidedly devious crept into his eyes. "Well, there's one good thing about waking up: morning shower. Care to join me?"

She pursed her lips. "Why do I feel like this is a trap?"

"Why, madam, I am offended," he said, crawling on top of her. He pressed his palms flat on either side of her and leaned down, kissing her in between every few words. "This would be a completely, utterly, one-hundred-percent platonic shower in which there is no funny business whatsoever. Would I lie to you?"

She wrapped her arms around his neck. "I suppose I'll just have to trust you."

The warmth in his smile made her breath catch. "I suppose you will."

~*~

"Of all the things I want you to learn in the next several minutes, one thing stands above all: if I catch _any_ of you attempting to do this for any reason at all, I will literally—and I mean it— _literally_ strangle you with my bare hands Brock Samson-style. This is a one-time experiment for scientific purposes only. Do we understand each other?"

The response from the small crowd gathered outside of Pete's enclosure was slightly delayed on account of shock, but eventually they all agreed. Some were students who had been to Jack's lectures before and knew about his off-color commentary, while others were merely the film crew sent by the Guinness Book of World Records. Jack finished glaring at everyone and then cleared his throat to continue.

"Now then, as you can see, my partner Dr. Anjali is set up with precautionary equipment should Pete decide to fly high enough that the air would be too thin to breathe. The world record for highest flight documented by a dragon belongs to the pigmy dart dragon in 1474, when a spectator claims to have seen one fly high enough to snatch an eagle out of the air. It was estimated at 15,000 feet, and that's being modest. That's nearly halfway to the world record for highest bird flight, which is held by the Griffon vulture at a whopping 37,000 feet, or more commonly known as the height that freaking commercial planes fly at. Because of Pete's immense size, we are predicting that she wouldn't like to sustain such a height due to her metabolic processes, but better safe than sorry. After all, she flew up to a mountaintop in Japan and that's nothing to sneeze at. We have a body cam and an altimeter hooked up to the collar around her neck to help us clock her speed and altitude. We've also retro-fitted a basic saddle to help guide her instead of trying to use a tether, since Pete has shown that she can be persuaded to change direction with the proper influence. On a lighter note, it's also a good opportunity for our girl to get some fresh air. Pun fully intended."

Jack turned to face Kamala, who stood next to the dragon. "Ready, Kam?"

She flashed him a thumbs up, unhooked Pete's tether, and climbed on the saddle. The dragon shook herself, verifying that the tether was gone, and stretched her leathery wings from end to end. She walked from beneath the large tree at the center of the pen and peered up into the blue sky, her nostrils flaring and her tongue tasting the air.

The dragon's powerful legs coiled and then released an enormous burst of power as she leapt into the air without further preamble. An audible gasp sprang from the spectators. Jack just smiled and switched his gaze to the iPad, which had a live feed as the dragon and his partner began climbing into the heavens.

He watched as the forest surrounding the veterinary facility swept past beneath the dragon's dangling clawed feet and the trees turned from dense brush into increasingly small patches, then green dots as she flew higher. He checked the altimeter readings. "Four hundred feet and counting."

Jack felt a tug at his lab coat and glanced down to see a familiar smiling face.

"Jack, can I watch?"

He glanced over Hayley's head at her mother Barbara, who nodded and motioned that it was alright. He scooped the little girl up in his left arm. "Sure, munchkin."

Hayley beamed and helped him hold the tablet up, giggling in delight. "Wow! How high are they now?"

"Fifteen hundred feet."

"Cool! Where are they?"

He handed her the iPad and pointed about sixty degrees past her right shoulder. "If you squint, you can see them right around there."

"Can I ride her next?"

Jack chuckled. "Maybe when you're older, kiddo."

"Aww!"

"Hey, no pouting. After all, you named a dragon. That sort of makes her your dragon, in a way. How many other little girls can say that?"

Hayley's face brightened immediately. "I have my own dragon?"

"Yep."

"So, I really am a princess?"

"You sure are, your majesty."

He held the iPad back up, this time addressing the crowd. "Thirteen hundred feet. Hanging in there, Kam?"

"Loving every second!" she chimed in from the microphone. "This is incredible. I can barely even see the facility from here."

He heard her squeak in surprise as the dragon made a sharp turn and went into a spiraling dive before spreading her wings out to let the air currents carry them into the clouds. "Four thousand feet and climbing."

The dragon broke through the clouds and Jack could hardly breathe at the sight of the seemingly fluffy stratus clouds carpeted underneath Kamala's hanging legs.

"Six thousand feet."

Someone behind him whistled. He glanced up to see the tiniest speck in the sky and could hear movement through the ear piece, indicating that Kamala had pulled on the oxygen mask. "Eight thousand feet. Holy—"

Jack glanced guiltily at the child in his arms. "—cow, she's a freaking jet powered dragon. Look at her go."

"Look at the views go," Matt chortled from behind him on his cell phone, watching the live feed thread. "I think we're about to break Facebook, Jack."

"Pfft, it was broken long before we got there. Alright, looks like she's leveling out now. We'll give it a few minutes and see if this is her top altitude. Man, what a view. This is the stuff dreams are made of."

"So pretty," Hayley agreed, pointing as the dragon wheeled towards the sun and filled the iPad screen with brilliant light.

He smiled. "That it is, munchkin."

A little less than half an hour later, Kamala guided the dragon back towards the enclosure and landed, having topped out at 8,550 feet. While it didn't break the all-time dragon flight record, it did qualify for the record of largest breed recorded in flight. After a brief interview, the Guinness film crew retreated, as did most of the students and staff who had been invited, leaving only two of Jack and Kamala's guests.

"That was so much fun!" Hayley said. "When can we do it again?"

Kamala squatted in front of the little girl and patted her head. "Soon, don't worry. It was nice to see you again, Hayley."

The child gave her a hug. "Bye, 'Mala!"

She hugged Jack next. "Bye, Jack!"

Her mother took her hand and waved to both scientists before heading back down the hill. The pair faced the fence where Evelyn Stubbs stood leaning up against it, her long braid swaying gently as the wind blew.

"What a magnificent animal," Evelyn said once they were within earshot. "Thanks for the invitation. That was breathtaking."

"I'm glad you came," Jack said, settling next to her. "Pete's definitely one of a kind."

"Yes. I can see why you both protected her so fiercely. It's one thing to read about dragons in text books or see their bones in museums. To be in front of one for the first time ever, alive and well... it's stunning. I truly hope that eventually everyone will get to see her and those like her someday."

"Me too," Kamala said. "Dragons are survivors by nature. Even when the worst in nature came into play, they remained. After the KT event, the world was full of ashes, cinder, and bones, and yet the dragons emerged through the chaos and still thrived. They have a lot to teach us."

"I can't wait. It's going to be incredible."

"Yeah," Kamala said softly, smiling as she tracked her gaze from the dragon to Jack.

"It is."

# CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

SUCKER PUNCH

One month later...

He always greeted her the same way.

"Doctor."

"Doctor."

The psychiatrist, Dr. Lana Lawson, smiled and shook her head, her dark hair fluttering around her face. She was pretty, tall, dark-skinned, and wore a black button up shirt, grey slacks, and pumps. He sometimes joked that half the reason they got along so well was that she reminded him of his first girlfriend before things went south.

"Why do you get so amusement out of that?"

"No idea, doc," Jack said cheerfully, settling down on her surprisingly soft black leather couch after shedding his sport coat. "You tell me."

"I'm guessing you're a Dan Akroyd fan."

"Who isn't?"

She folded her hands in her lap. "You're also twenty-seven years old and somehow you know _Spies Like Us_ enough to make that reference in 2016."

"What can I say? The 80's gave us some great comedies."

"True. How are things going with you? I noticed you had to cancel our last appointment."

"Yeah, sorry about that. I ran into a problem at the lab and it took the rest of my day to fix it. Couldn't reschedule until now."

"Understandable. Last time we spoke, you said that the next batch of dragon eggs would be ready around this time."

"Yep. The screening should be in just a couple of hours, in fact. That's where I'm heading once we're done. As always, you're welcome to join us if you'd like."

"I'd love to, but I have four more appointments today," she sighed. "I'll have to catch the feed when it runs tonight on the news."

"No rest for the weary, huh?"

"None at all." She lifted her pen and flipped to a new page on her notebook. "How are you sleeping these days?"

"Better."

"How many hours a night?"

"I shoot for seven, but I usually end up getting five or six most of the time. I get antsy when I have a project due. Always have."

Dr. Lawson scribbled a little bit. "And your dreams? Better or worse?"

"For the most part, the nightmares have gone away, but I still get them here and there."

Her face softened slightly in sympathy. "What about the night terrors?"

"No, those have stopped completely. Thank God. I was not a fan, let me tell you."

"Good. What about your anxiety attacks?"

"None since the last time we met. No panic attacks either."

"Glad to hear it. Do you feel that the meditation has been helping?"

"I guess that's fair to say. I'd attribute more of it to Kamala. She's got me doing yoga now."

The psychiatrist's eyebrows lifted ever so slightly. Jack scowled. "Don't even. One joke and I'm out the door."

"I would never mock one of my patients," she sniffed. "I'm just surprised. You were rather resistant to the idea when I suggested it."

"Well, to be fair, Kamala put it in a more..." He cleared his throat. "...let's say, _persuasive_ manner."

"No judgment here. I'm glad it's working out. How is your relationship coming so far?"

"Better than I deserve. She's... amazing. Even more amazing than I fantasized about. And I don't mean that in a skeezy way. I mean that I've never experienced something like this before, where we don't have any trust issues or petty arguments. It's been a smooth transition, and I think it's because we knew each other for so long. I was in a long-term relationship before and it wasn't anything like it is between me and Kam. It feels like we complement each other. We're both heading in the same direction and maybe that's why we haven't hit a roadblock yet."

"Yet?"

"Well, all relationships are bound to run into something sooner or later."

"True, but is that something you're worried about?"

"Not exactly. I'm of the notion that we'll go bungee-jumping off that bridge when we get to it. No need to fret over it until I have to."

She nodded. "That's healthy. Keep that in mind as you continue forward and I think it'll serve you well. How are things with your friend Faye?"

He arched an eyebrow. "Why'd we jump right to her after Kamala?"

Dr. Lawson stared at him.

He squirmed. "I hate it when you do that."

"I do that because you're being defensive," she said wryly. "You know better. Don't avoid the question. I'm not going to drop it."

He sighed. "Faye is fine. I see her when I'm over at Kam's and we still work out at the gym once a week. Actually, we met up yesterday."

"I see. And how did that go?"

"She body-slammed me."

The psychiatrist blinked slowly, just once.

Jack leaned his head back on the couch and groaned. "You're killing me, woman!"

"I'm not doing anything."

"You're mentally judging me. I can feel it. That's the same look my actual doctor gets when I don't have enough freaking iron in my diet."

"I'm only here to help, Jack. Do you care to elaborate on your thoughts about that particular relationship?"

He lowered his head enough to glare at her. "You know full-well that I don't."

She shrugged. "It's your session. We can talk about whatever you like instead."

"Look, it's not what it looks like, okay? Faye and I have established that we can tolerate each other as long as it's on certain terms."

"Mm-hmm."

"Oh, for the love of—alright, doc, out with it. You've been giving me that look ever since I mentioned her in our second session. What is it?"

She met his gaze for a bit before she answered. "This is off-the-record."

He mimed zipping his lips shut. "May I live a thousand years and never say a word."

"You're treading on a thin line. Mind you, I don't think you're wobbling or anything, but the way that you've described Faye makes me think that subconsciously, there is something you haven't been addressing that may cause problems somewhere down the road."

He gave her a baffled look. "How?"

"Jack," she said patiently. "Tell me what happened the first time you went out with Faye and Kamala to a bar."

He flushed pink. "That... is totally inapplicable to this conversation."

"Okay, tell me about when you punched out her ex-boyfriend."

"Who wouldn't have done that? The guy was a prick and had it coming."

"Then tell me about when you boarded the plane to Tokyo."

"You heard that completely out of context."

Dr. Lawson crossed her arms. "And when you called her in the middle of the night before you made a major decision in your investigation? Or when you called her to help you set up a date for your current significant other?"

"I have an explanation for that." He opened his mouth. Then closed it. "As soon as I think it up, I'll let you know."

She shook her head. "Jack, there is no doubt in my mind that you're in love with Kamala and you would never even think of cheating on her. However, I think you are having your cake and eating it too. It doesn't mean that you've done something wrong. You haven't. But I do think that you and Faye have entered into some kind of undefined space that might be dangerous. I'll give you an example. Sometimes people who work together develop a rapport with each other that seems completely harmless. I've heard it called work flirt before. However, over time, the attention can start to take a turn towards something more serious if it continues, because you're sharing something with them even if it's just mutual amusement and attraction. You might find yourself holding back with your actual partner because the work flirt feels more exciting or sometimes even forbidden. That is what can cause you to slip up before you know it."

He sighed and ran his hands through his hair a couple times. "What do you want me to do? Stop interacting with her? She's my girlfriend's best friend."

"No. That's not what I'm saying. I think maybe you need to be honest and ask yourself if you've completely closed the door on that potential relationship. You've made so much progress with Kamala that I'd hate to see it fall apart accidentally."

"Alright, I hear you. I'll... put it on the To Do list."

After a moment, she touched his knee. "I'm not trying to stress you out. You charged me with helping you with your mental health. Sometimes that means touching on uncomfortable subjects."

"I know. I appreciate it, Lana."

She sat back in the chair and picked the pen back up. "How about your folks?"

"They're..." He pushed a stream of air between his lips. "I don't know what the hell they are right now. Last thing I heard is that they're in counseling. She didn't move out, but she sleeps in the guest room instead of the master bedroom. Her side of the family is in a tizzy about the whole thing. I'm worried we'll have a full-blown drama showdown at Thanksgiving. I don't think my mom told them what happened, but they know it's got something to do with me, so they're all up in arms and want her to divorce him."

"I'm so sorry to hear that. How's your Dad taking it?"

"How he takes everything. Doesn't say anything, drinks beer, takes his anger out with an ax and a tree on their property. I think having to face what happened sort of shook him. He doesn't know what to think of himself now that Mom's angry at him. When I was a kid, they would fight sometimes because they're both high-strung, but never on this level."

"Have you been trying to help?"

"As much as they'll let me, yeah. Mom's coming up to see the new dragons, but Dad had to stay to get some last-minute work done. I'll try to get her talking about it if I can."

"Do you still feel responsible?"

He sent her a flat look.

She almost smiled. "I knew that was rhetorical when I asked it, but I wanted to hear you say it out loud so I could emphasize how ridiculous it is."

"I thought you didn't mock your patients."

"As my patient, no, I'm not mocking you. As your friend, I am. You were just a kid, Jack. You hardly knew who you were, let alone what you should have done about something that traumatic. Blaming yourself won't get them back together. If anything, they'd want you to finally be freed from this burden. You've been blaming yourself for what happened long enough. They'd want you to let it go. It would be one less weight to drag around with you. You have enough on your plate as it is."

"I don't know how not to feel responsible. It was directly related to something I did, or rather, didn't do. In case you missed it, I'm not great at letting things go."

"No one said you had to be. But I would like you to try to forgive yourself, the same way I've been coaxing you to forgive yourself for what happened in Tokyo. Don't bottle it up. It builds pressure and stress, and those can contribute to your anxiety. Work on it each week. Think about the good that you've done. Think about the good you still can do in the future. Focus on the positive aspects of who you are and what you can do for others. You might find that it helps your day-to-day stress levels."

"Think happy thoughts, huh?" he asked with a smile.

"Close enough. Let's work on a couple exercises for you to practice at home."

~*~

"Ready?"

"Ready."

Jack tapped the Record button on the laptop. "Starting the first physical exam for the _draconus venenum_ , or the diamondback dragon. We have eight specimen here, and they hatched roughly ninety minutes ago. These guys are very lively, so we're going to examine them one at a time and then once they're all evaluated, we'll send them out for X-rays."

He faced the wire cage and carefully eased the door open. One dragon immediately pushed its snout out and he caught it around the neck, holding a finger between each of its limbs to keep it from escaping. The dragon squeaked and wriggled, its tiny brown wings fluttering over his wrist as he carried it over to Kamala. She brushed off some of its embryonic fluid and lowered it to the scale. "The first hatchling weighs one pound and four ounces, and measures at eight point six inches from snout to tail. Wingspan is three inches by two and a half inches wide."

She flipped the dragon upside down and checked its pale belly scales. "No outward abrasions or injuries. Coloration is apparent even as a newborn, rather than developing later on in the maturation process, possibly to ward off predators."

Jack filled a small bowl of water and she carried it over to the exam table. She held the dragon just above it. The dragon flicked its pink tongue out a couple of times, but didn't drink.

"No interest in water yet, but that's unsurprising since it's a desert species. So far, it shows no interest in either of us."

"You're breaking my heart, Junior," Jack said, offering his finger for the dragon to sniff. It blinked its green eyes up and made no move towards him. Kamala hid a smile and lowered it to the table. It walked back and forth to all four corners of the counter, staying low, inspecting every inch until it was satisfied. It scratched the surface with pinprick claws a few times, then plopped down and curled in on itself to go to sleep.

"Well, that was very infant-like. Why don't you get its heart rate and body temperature and I'll do a few glamor shots?"

Afterward, they brought it a small plate with different kinds of sustenance on it: dead crickets, flies, earthworms, caterpillars, and even a tiny mouse. Eventually, it picked the worm and tore into it in small, precise bites after wrestling its corpse for a minute or two.

"I guess spaghetti is the preferred option for these little guys. At least worms are easy to get. Only question is how much he can handle per feeding. It reacted similar to a snake once it had its prey sighted, so I'm guessing that its venom sacs might already be intact. We should be able to find out after the X-rays come back. Thank God, no molting yet, so odds are, he won't have a freak gene that makes him the size of a horse in three days."

Jack rapped his knuckles against the side of the counter. "Knock on wood."

"Yes, we're saving the next oversized dragon for sweeps week," Kamala mused as she handed him a small bottle of Wite Out. He marked the tip of the dragon's tail and then selected another one from the cage. They repeated the exam for each hatchling and gathered them together for the radiologists.

"Well," Kamala said, peering up at the X-rays. "Do you want the good news or the bad news first?"

"Hit me with the bad news."

"The diamondback dragon is indeed born venomous. We're going to have to invest in muzzles or some form of restraint while handling them. However, the good news is I was able to take a sample and it indicates less than the lethal dose of said venom at their current age. A bite victim would become sick and sluggish, but they wouldn't die, unlike Pete's bite."

"Huzzah. Let's touch base with the dracologists and see if there's an antidote to dragon's venom." He paused. "Now there's a sentence you don't hear every day."

"Truly. I'll give them a call while you get them back into their cages."

He winked before heading out of the exam room. "As you wish."

Kamala stepped out into the hallway and called their department to start juggling their schedule enough for an appointment.

"Any chance we can make it next week?"

"Hmm," the receptionist said, clicking away on her end. "I can squeeze in a consultation for the 28th if you've got the time."

"Yes, that should work just fine." Kamala frowned. "Wait, what day did you say?"

"The 28th, hon. Why? Did you find a conflict in your schedule?"

She glanced at the calendar on her watch for so long that the receptionist chimed in again. "Are you still there, Dr. Anjali?"

Kamala gave a start. "Oh, yes, my apologies. The 28th is fine. Thank you so much. Goodbye."

She hung up and started to pace up and down the hallway, tapping the watch and counting through the days of the past few weeks. Jack stuck his head out of the room a couple of minutes later. "Hey, they're all set to go."

He started to enter the hallway as he noticed her lack of response. "You okay?"

"Yes, I'm fine," she said. "Let's get going or we'll be late for the interview."

~*~

By the time they made it back to Jack's apartment, it was well after seven o'clock. The day had been yet another onslaught of gathering data and sharing it with the wide-eyed world around them. Pete's continued good health combined with the publicity surrounding her had allowed them to make good progress in the ecological community. They had established a live feed at her enclosure which went viral and took the world by storm. Those who made sizeable donations to the charities affiliated with Pete were allowed to visit her on site and take pictures, as long as one of the vets entrusted with her care was present. The money was of course split into different costs, but the bulk of it went towards various conservation efforts for endangered animals. Matt also set up a crowdfund campaign to pay for the land they would eventually use as a dragon sanctuary. They met their goal in only fourteen days.

"Want some wine?" Jack called to Kamala as she headed for the bedroom.

"No. I'll be out in a few." He heard the bathroom door shut and rummaged through the fridge until he found a beer. He drained half of it in one go and then heard his phone chime with a text message. He checked it, surprised to find that it had come from Fujioka, and was only one sentence long: _Check the news._

Frowning, he texted her back. _Which channel?_

Any of them.

Jack's stomach dropped to the bottom of his chest cavity as he strolled over and turned on the television. After about a minute of news footage, the beer bottle slipped out of his hand and he slumped down on the couch in disbelief.

"Holy shit."

" _If you're just tuning in with us, I can't believe what I'm about to say is real.We have confirmed footage that suggests that for the first time in the 21_ st _century, the largest dragon ever recorded in history, nicknamed Baba Yaga, is allegedly alive and loose in the city of Tokyo."_

The female reporter faded out and the screen switched to show a three-story building alight with fire. Every few seconds, something popped loudly and then a gout of flames burst from its rooftop, sending chunks of stone and plaster flying. The person holding the camera spoke rapidly in Japanese, but the voiceover spoke in English, saying that the building exploded and the firefighters were on their way.

Without warning, the camera jerked sharply upward as a terrifying roar filled the air. Its view jostled back and forth facing the night sky until it focused on something flying past the moon and sweeping a shadow over the spectator. The onlooker gasped and raced behind a car parked across the street, peeking over the roof. Seconds later, a gun-metal grey dragon the size of a Tyrannosaurus Rex landed in the middle of the street and blew an enormous gust of fire straight at the camera, which blacked out a moment later.

" _We have unconfirmed reports of five deaths. Local officials are scrambling in response and trying to figure out the origin of the dragon, and whether it is at all related to the work of Dr. Rhett Jackson, the MIT scientist who cracked the method of cloning these animals a little over a month ago."_

As if on cue, Jack's phone hollered, "Son of a bitch!"

He didn't answer it. He couldn't even hear it. He just kept staring at the footage as it played again, his eyes fixed on the long, sharp jaws of the dragon when it belched a pillar of fire at the unsuspecting innocent civilian. Five dead. The city was in peril, in chaos, and it was on the other side of the planet. There was nothing he could do but watch.

Kamala emerged from the bedroom a few minutes later while he was still staring transfixed at the television. "They did it, Kam. They brought Baba Yaga to life and now she's loose in Tokyo."

"Gods," she whispered, her brown eyes wide as she walked around to see. "As if this night weren't bad enough."

He blinked at her, confused. "Why? What else happened?"

"I'm pregnant."

FIN

To be continued in _Of Blood and Ashes_

Coming in 2017

# Acknowledgments

To my mother, who is the most patient, kind, understanding, brilliant, helpful woman on the planet Earth and I will fight anyone who disagrees. You are my co-pilot. You are a great deal of the reason this book came to life and thrived, and I cannot thank you enough for all your help as well as your encouragement as I metaphorically ran with scissors writing this new book series. Thank you for believing. Thank you for being here. Thank you for being my inspiration.

To my father, who dreams even harder than I do. We're both out there chasing after the things we want (mostly money) and we won't stop for anything, not even sleep or sanity. Thank you for being the shining example of how to do what you love in the face of adversity, always and in spite of all the repeated failures.

To Sharon, who continues to be my role model, my confidant, and my north star each time I write something. No matter how busy you are, you have always found time for me and my crazy ravings and I can't begin to tell you how grateful I am for your insight into these characters. They wouldn't be who they are without you.

To Bryan, who always stands steadfast in the wake of my many meltdowns and assures me that I'm not a walking garbage fire of an author. Thank you for your eternal support.

To Andy Rattinger, who took the precious time out of his busy schedule to help me conceptualize this novel and kept me from making more than a few rookie mistakes. You are the best writing sensei in the whole wide world. Thanks for caring about some total nobody you met through the Interwebs on Twitter.

To my family, who has every reason to commit me to an insane asylum, but has the grace and love not to rent me a rubber room every time I release a novel. Thank you for being there when I needed you through thick and thin.

To my friends, who are basically saints for putting up with me. Any time you flip a page and see how much these characters care about each other, you are the reason why. I have the best support system ever and I couldn't have gotten this far without you.

To my fans, please for the love of God, don't murder me for writing a cliffhanger. I mean, uh, thank you for taking a chance with a whole new series. I know it's risky and scary, but you did it anyway and I don't know how to express how much I love you for it. I truly hope that this wild ride was something you enjoyed and that you are as hungry for the next installment as I am, because I'm just getting started.

To Elisabeth Hewer, the genius poet who wrote that beautiful poem I used to open the novel and honestly helped guide Jack and Kamala where they needed to go as characters. Thank you so much for letting me use your phenomenal work.

To Kristen Bartoli, the insanely helpful and kind MIT post-doc who helped me with a boatload of bizarre research. If I ever get up your way, I've got a cup of coffee with your name on it, madam. Thank you so very much for putting aside time for my nonsense.

To Marginean Anca, thank you for the amazing cover.

To Forrest Sibley, Rochelle Zheng, Scott Barrois, Devin Myles Jennings, Nicholas Kutny, Aisha Haley, S.C. McCole, and the many authors of the KBoards community, thank you so much for your contributions.

To the new readers, thank you so much for reading and I truly hope that you had as much fun reading this novel as I did writing it. Well, maybe more fun. It was mostly me gross sobbing and eating junk food in between wishing for the quiet embrace of death.

# Author's Note

Is this thing on?

First of all, stop throwing rotten tomatoes at my head. Please. They're smelly and it's a waste of good fruit-slash-vegetable-in-denial.

Second of all, I think writing the first novel to a new series was possibly even harder than writing the last novel of my first series. I'm pretty sure I cranked out _The Holy Dark_ in less than a year, and yet _Of Cinder and Bone_ kicked my ass all up and down the year 2016. Honestly, it's as much a dragon as Pete is: roaring and demanding to be heard at all costs.

Third of all, yes, you read that right. This isn't just a random one-off. There will be at least three novels, possibly more if I have anything to say about it. Gasp! Kyoko's writing a new series! Head for the hills!

Fourth of all, no, seriously, _stop throwing those tomatoes_.

Fifth of all, writing in a whole new genre is a thousand times more challenging than I expected. If any of you have been long time followers of mine, you might have heard the original concept for this series, and it's nowhere near what you just read. I know, right? Before I even put a single word on the page, I had a long chat with my writing sensei where I figured out that the first concept I had in my head would cheat the readers of getting to know a really great character all because of Mangst (man \+ angst = mangst, by the way) and so I scrapped the idea and decided to slow the record down and focus on what lyrics were actually there. To my delight, I dug deeper and deeper until I hit what I hope is a diamond and not a giant shiny dragon turd.

Honestly, Jack and Kamala surprised me. I had a rough idea of who they were when they strolled up and introduced themselves to me on November of 2015. As I continued with them along their journey, I found out more than I ever expected to about what this novel is at its heart. I had envisioned a hard sci-fi novel and yet the two of them guided me elsewhere. It became more about chasing one's demons than anything else. Except with this series, it's not literal demons. I'm still writing about monsters, but this time they're monsters in disguise.

I know what you're probably thinking, though. You still want to kill me for that cliffhanger. Fair enough. It's damn near _Changes_ -levels of cruel. Well, throw rotten tomatoes at Jim Butcher for subconsciously influencing me to make my readers want to burn me at the stake. However, I promise it's not a cheap gimmick. What's in store for Jack and Kamala is going to be quite a ride, and honestly, I'm incredibly excited to see where the future leads them with that bomb we dropped on the last page.

Buck up, old chum. What doesn't kill you only makes you stranger.

Last, but not least, this is the first novel I have finished without my beloved demon cat Tyger at my side. I lost him in August of 2016 and anyone who has had to say goodbye to their best friend knows that it's a hell I wish on no man or woman. However, this novel was devoted to him because he really was my dragon. For twelve long years, he roared and everything in the world seemed smaller and less scary to me. Thanks for teaching me to roar, Tyger. You will never be forgotten.

And thank you, dear readers, for hanging in there. I have so many more adventures for you. Dust off your bookshelves, grab a blanket and some tea, and let's get to work.

See you soon, my dizzy little dreamers.

-Kyoko

 "Shove all the planets in the solar system up my ass!"
