Zia… The Lair—5th Floor Meeting Room

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“We should bring the triplets in to take a look at her. I need a second opinion,” Miss Connie said, looking at Zia through magnified spectacles like she was a lab specimen.

“Is that a doctor’s stethoscope?” Zia poked at the instrument the older lady had used to check her heart and breathing. Miss Connie swatted her hand away and adjusted Zia’s head to a better angle to see her scar. The offending mark still tingled and was sensitive to Miss Connie’s touch. When the woman took her through the routine of a medical office visit with practiced precision, Zia had to know. “You’re a doctor, Miss Connie?”

“Hmm? …In a fashion.” The older woman shifted her attention and looked over to Lucien and then Greg. “I see what you mean about that scar. Without more insight on lore or background of other instances, it’s hard to say what it is and why our Zia had such a hard time of it. Again, I need to confer with the triplets. They have loads of resources that might turn up some important information or history on what happened.”

Lucien nodded as if Miss Connie’s suggestion was a done deal to be implemented. Zia was right here in the room—hello?

“Or, I could just make an appointment with my therapist to make sure I’m not reacting to the sleeping pills she gave me.”

Miss Connie waved that idea away. “Hun, I don’t think a therapist can crack this one.” The older woman patted her shoulder with that motherly air that said to hush it while the grownups talked. “Greg, have you had a chance to check the Gryphon archives?”

“No, ma’am, not yet. I was hoping you might know where to start.”

The older lady gave him a smile that revealed maternal affection. “Thank you for the vote of confidence.” Then she nodded toward him, “And, don’t think I’m not going to give you a once over once I finish with little missy here, either.”

Greg nodded. “I’m all yours.” She gave him a wink, and he continued to fill the group in on their unusual adventure last night.

The tiniest pinch of jealousy flew through Zia for the ease of the relationship Miss Connie had with Greg.

That old pang deep down churned. Zia hated to acknowledge her dark need to be adored and the center of male attention. The men in this room only had eyes for their girlfriends, or mates, as they liked to call each other. The one man she wanted was as uninterested in her as a Eunuch in a whorehouse. Miss Connie got more love than she did when it came to Greg Griffin.

Greg had given the group way more detail about what went down last night than he had with Zia earlier. She sat at the conference table quietly, trying to take it all in. In the depths of her soul, Zia knew what he said was true. It was so far-fetched that her mind had a hard time accepting what happened.

No wonder he wanted no parts of her with how she’d freaked out on him last night.

The room might be huge, but sitting at this table with all eyes on her produced a weight of self-consciousness Zia wouldn’t be able to sustain for long. Her space barrier shrank with each passing minute. The walls might as well crash in on her for the weight of compounding scrutiny bearing down on her.

“They’re way better than medical doctors for what happened to you,” Miss Connie said, referring to this mysterious trio. The woman who still smelled of ambrosia and all things that made for great comfort food ran nimble fingers along Zia’s neck and up to apply pressure to the base of her head.

“Ooh, that feels weird!” Zia didn’t like having an “exam” in front of strangers. It was doubtful Miss Connie would stop until she was satisfied with what her poking and prodding revealed. Zia tried to get more information on what would happen to her next. “Who are these triplets? Are they medical doctors?” Keeping up with the conversation proved to have a high learning curve. “And, why do they need to look at me?”

Eyes continued to stare at her as if a horn grew out of the middle of her head. Zia stayed her hand closest to Greg that itched to reach out for support. This was his territory, and these people were his friends. Uncertainty played tricks with her reasoning about whether he’d support her. Or, would he side with his friends and family over the weird stuff that had happened last night?

Miss Connie’s smile came to the rescue. The older woman’s kind gesture crumbled the wall of isolation that had started to build between her and the group.

“It’s just that I can’t remember any of what happened. I didn’t do any of it on purpose. My hand to God, I meant no harm.” Insecurity forced her words of explanation up and out.

“We know. No one’s accusing you of doing anything on purpose,” Greg said.

She heard a feminine voice that sounded like Quinn mutter under breath, “Speak for yourself.”

The scene Greg had painted of their previous night could have come straight out of Dante’s Inferno. Now they wanted to bring in a mysterious set of triplets to “look” at her. Clammy isolation crept in to latch onto her defenses. It was time for her to get out of here and never look back.

Wren spoke up as she looked over to Lucien for approval. What was it with everyone bowing down to him? “The triplets are researchers at the University. They also have special abilities that might help us figure out what’s going on.” In true Wren fashion, she added. “Don’t worry, Cupcake, they were instrumental in helping me with some very important things. I trust them.”

Zia caught Quinn twitching in irritation out of the corner of her eye. She was willing to be the object of scrutiny, but she wouldn’t subject herself to scorn and ridicule too.

Enough with this shit.

Channeling her best Leila Carter stare down, Zia spouted out the words bursting forth.

“What is it with you, Quinn? I’ve done nothing to you and yet you act like I’m a criminal.” Quinn screwed up her face in a look of disinterested disdain. That heifer was going to get shanked. Zia’s pinky finger grazed the bread knife that was close by for insurance and back up. He caught her movement, but no one would interfere. The bad behavior and snide comments had to stop—today. Greg’s intake of air to start speaking was the cue she needed to cut him off and press on. “How about you stop being a basic bitch and step your mean girl game up? How you doing?”

It was on. Zia’s stomach did uncontrollable flip flops as a swift wind of powerful emotion crashed into her from Quinn’s direction.

“You’re right about one thing. You haven’t done a damn thing to me. As for him?” Quinn punched the air with her finger to point at Greg who’d leaned in ready to pounce if things got physical. “You’ve done plenty.”

“How so? I just got here.”

“Exactly. You’re a runner. You left—”

“The hell I am.” Zia’s body tingled as adrenaline flooded in to prepare her for a fight. “I was kidnapped by a fucking dinosaur-bird if you don’t remember. It was me hooked up to a life-sucking contraption, not you. My life energy was food for an alien-bird—an ALIEN DINOSAUR-BIRD! I’m here surrounded by a group of cast members from the Inquisition with secrets. Yeah, I know everything isn’t on the up and up. Y’all got secrets. They’re so thick, I can feel them. But do I accuse you of doing anything shady? No. I’m here trying to get along and not run out of here in fear of what y’all might be behind your masks. Remember, I’ve seen things that y’all don’t seem to want to talk about. So, QUINN,” she put a hard accent on the name. “Don’t you dare say I’m a runner, I’m a fucking survivor!”

Quinn didn’t waste time launching her mean-girl rebuttal. She held up her hands and began to tick off points of her tired-assed argument.

“Survivor, child, please. Case in point, you didn’t see fit to check on Greg to see how rescuing you impacted him. But let’s not start there. How about when y’all first met? Huh? Because he wasn’t fawning and throwing himself all over you, the basic bitch that you are, you left and started dating the first thing that showed interest, and let me stress thing. Your ability to make good decisions is questionable at best. Seems like you brought your ‘alien-bird’ trouble on yourself and it was Greg and us who helped you out of it. Now, we hear that you got him risking his life once again to save you from your in living color Twilight Zone dream drama.”

If it were possible, Zia wouldn’t be surprised if Quinn’s tongue wouldn’t turn into a whip for the lashing she tried to give. And, she wasn’t done.

“You might not have loyalty or concept of true heart and love for others like normal folks, but around here we do.”

Zia remained quiet, silently counting to contain her composure, as not to make the news for beating this heifer. Quinn continued to ramble on in her fury.

“Greg is part of my family. I fight for mine. All I know is that every time you come around, Greg comes out on the short end of the stick. How about you step your survivor skills up and save your own damn self if you’re so boss bitch and all, m’kay?”

Lucien’s voice boomed. “Quinn, that’s enough. She’s our guest.”

“No she’s not and y’all know it. She’s the poorest showing of a mate I’ve ever seen.” Quinn’s rage was palpable. Turning her ire back to Zia she went on, “How could you feel the mating thrall and not come back to him? So busy trying to play Greg to make him dance through your hoops, you’re oblivious to the blessing right before you. Nah, you don’t deserve to be mated to Greg. Your sense of entitlement is going to keep you blind and isolated from the best thing to happen to you.” Quinn was on a roll now. “Yeah, I see more clearly how it makes sense. You’re a cold-ass selfish bitch, that’s how you can completely miss the mating thrall!”

Overloads of inputs drenched her mental synapses as Zia tried to sift through Quinn’s verbal attack. Anger won out.

“Call me bitch one more time, and I’ll make good on showing you how cold-ass of a bitch I am when I stomp your ass into the ground. Where I come from, we don’t keep talking.” Zia pushed the chair back prepared to jump up and across the table at that little runt.

“I said enough!” The voice boomed to the point of rattling Zia’s teeth. It was Lucien.

Seething wasn’t the word to describe his visage. Zia could swear the man’s facial features looked more angular, sharpened, menacing, and… were those scales popping up on the razor blade sharp angles that were his cheeks? What the hell?

Zia held her tongue as the imposing man who’d turned into a formidable presence turned his attention to Quinn.

“Mate of mine, I trust your judgment implicitly. It’s when your judgment turns into strong negative emotions that I have to intervene. I’ve never seen you so affected by another person like you seem to be by Zia.” He glanced over to where Zia sat shaking with the massive amount of adrenaline attempting to leave her body. Then back to Quinn, he said, “As your mate, I honor your feelings. As the leader of this Clan, I urge you to regain control of your senses.” His voice softened to a tone Zia would have thought impossible a few moments back. “I love you, Quinn, but you’re too caught up in your emotions on this one. Let’s bring Zia up to speed on what’s going on before we accuse her of heinous acts. Shall we?” He cocked a heavy dark brow toward the woman.

The room and everyone in it held a collective breath and waited. Quinn shot her a look that could empty out a lion cage. Zia held herself still as stone. There was no way she’d get her Texas card snatched by wimping out. A quick reframe lightened her perception of the moment.

In a fierce game of Texas Hold ‘Em, this would be considered kiddie daycare. Nothing was on the line but pride. Quinn didn’t know her. If things worked out with Greg, Zia would stick around. He was worth swallowing a bit of irritation when dealing with Quinn. Strange things happened with this group. Hell, in time, her disdain for Quinn might change.

Maybe her face did something to influence Quinn, but after that realization of what she was willing to put up with to see more of Greg, a thread of tension popped between the two women. Zia had the power to control herself. That would have to be enough to make it through this interrogation.

Once she’d made a mental note of what was in her power to control, Zia looked up in time to witness a curtain of harshness fall away from the other woman.

“All right, Mr. Grumble Butt, you win. I guess I need to deal with some—issues—when it comes to Zia.”

“Are we good, then?” he asked both ladies.

Zia gave a quick but curt nod as Quinn turned to him and almost purred.

“I’m good—for now. If I turn out to be right about her, you won’t be able to count the ways I’m going to make you grovel.”

“Don’t test me, mate.”

Quinn’s face snapped on a look of contrition at that. Whatever this man could do, he had Quinn’s ticket when it came to applying a healthy dose of “shut the hell up.” Zia had to figure out what everyone else knew about this Lucien fellow to make them all tow the line too.

With both Quinn and her dealt with, the others sat still and waited. Greg’s energy seemed to throw off more of something she could feel. After a moment, he nodded at Lucien and then placed a hand on top of hers.

Still too riled up to accept the gesture in grace, her fist balled up as her reflexes had her hand pulling away. Sooner than success could be realized, Greg pinned her hand to the table. Without words but total meaning dawning, Zia knew he sent strength and encouragement for her to settle down.

His eyes caught hers, and everything was better. Brilliant, clear, trusting eyes communicated that he was there with and for her. To punctuate the point, he looked around the table, taking in each face before returning his gaze to her.

“Zia, you’re correct. We do have a secret. One that I’m going to share with you now.”

Zia waited for Quinn to sound off in the distance. Hell, it seemed like everyone did because after Greg’s pregnant pause, Quinn said, “What? Carry on Greg,” and shrugged her shoulders as if she hadn’t shown her ass a few minutes before.

Bitchiness aside, Zia pushed thoughts down of how she could bounce Quinn’s little ass off the walls to refocus on Greg. As was his way, he took his time to make sure he had her complete attention. Sensing he needed confirmation, Zia nodded. He began to speak.

“We,” he said motioning to everyone around the massive table, “make up part of the Dragofin Clan. Lucien Drake is our leader. I am his second in command. We are alien humanoids living on earth’s surface as part of the collection of Guardian Warriors. When called to active duty, we travel to the core of the earth to guard against malevolent aliens who try to breach the portals to earth. That’s when we operate mostly in our shifted state. Since we aren’t from this world and are granted the ability to travel to different realms, our frequency oscillates differently to that of the earth. That’s why we wear rubber-soled boots when walking on the surface. Oh, and we don’t touch regular humans. Our touch causes pain for them.”

“You touched me, and I’m fine.” Zia didn’t like what that implied. She was human, through and through—had to be.

“Yes, thus further proving our belief that you’re not completely of this world. To Lucien he added, “Bro, she woke up to see my wings. She knows about me and remembered from that night. So, I had to tell her a little bit.”

“I see,” was all the other man said. At least he didn’t shout it with the thunderous volume he could generate.

Words failed her when they paused. The sensations she could depict reminded her of that time she had to have gas for an oral surgery. Detachment pried her common sense and sensibility away from her actions. Instead of running for the door, Zia remained rooted to the guest chair they’d given her to sit in for the meeting.

Only a few words came out. “You’re an alien?” Then she looked at Wren for clarity and clues of that elusive prank, a funny smile that said this was a joke, or something—anything else but aliens. When her best friend nodded yes in confirmation of his words, the walls of the room seemed to close in. “No, that can’t be. I was kidding about the alien stuff. They’re not real.” Wren continued to look at her in that way that said she needed to believe her. “No, not you Wren. What are you saying? Is this place a cult?”

“No, we’re not a cult.” Greg’s voice floated in to push the pressure of the space back. “We are what you would classify as aliens, though.” As if he read her mind he added, “You’ve seen what I can shift into, but as I told you before, I’m humanoid, just not born on this world.”

Before she could say a word, Lucien’s deep thunderous voice filled the room again. “I too am a shifter. I’m a Dragon.”

“Eek! You’re a demon?” Zia almost upset the chair with her body’s reaction. When Lucien’s expressive eyes grew large, she attempted to clean up her meaning. “Pardon me, I meant you’re what people from ancient times thought to be a demon?”

“Yes, but more so a god by many religions and ethnic groups. My kind are still revered around the world.” He ran a hand through that inky black hair that glistened like black glass. Like all the men here, he was extremely handsome and large. Quinn had snagged a good one. The little bane of Zia’s existence that she was, something about the woman had this man’s heart.

“I too am an alien, well part alien, Wren added. I’ll catch you up with the details soon, but turns out my father is a powerful ruler of a galaxy.”

“Talk about the ultimate come up,” Zia whispered turning the notion of her friend being an alien over in her mind. Then it dawned on her. “Is everyone here an alien?” She didn’t stop her gaze from settling on Quinn.

“Yes, to some extent.” Greg continued to hold her hand in assurance. “Regular humans aren’t able to withstand the Lair for long. And…” he paused and looked down.

“What else? Please, you have to tell me everything,” She almost pleaded for want of the knowledge. “Is that why you said I was a Siren?”

“She’s a Siren?” Hildy asked, her attention finally coming back to the conversation.

Greg didn’t hesitate. “Yes, and I was going to see if you would help her understand what it means to be one.”

“Hey, Bae, looks like you have a new playmate to harass. Maybe you two could bond over aerial assault practice,” Ajax said, as he nibbled on some of the remaining pastries. Miss Connie gave him a strong tap on the back of the head when he made a face of distaste at the bite. In defense, he added, “What the hey, Miss Connie? You should have warned me you made the pastries instead of Wren.”

“Aerial assault practice?” Zia said, beyond confused at Hildy’s ability to fly aircraft.

Greg held up a hand to stop Ajax. “That’s premature. Jax, not so fast. We have to explore how her gift manifests itself before we can assume she has wings to fly like Hildy.”

“Wait, Hildy can fly… as in her body?” Ideas and images too vast to comprehend whirled about in her mind. Could she fly too? If so, the superhero mega-media franchises wouldn’t have anything on this group.

“Yes, and she can do this cool voice mind control stuff that saved me from a bad situation, too,” Wren piped in, her voice full of admiration for the woman Zia had a natural fondness for as well.

Quinn raised her hand. Everyone stopped.

Yes?” Lucien asked.

Quinn leaned forward, evident she concentrated on the words she’d use. “Zia, I picked up a different aspect of Siren in you. One that I don’t particularly see as beneficial to the Dragofin Clan.”

Zia took in a stabilizing breath before addressing her. “Which is?”

“You behave and throw off a strong proclivity toward being a Seductress and possibly something…darker.” Turning her face toward Lucien, she added, “That’s in part why I’ve had a strong reaction toward you. I will work to get past it and hope you embrace the more honorable side of your lineage instead.”

Confusion dampened any ire that could rise. “Greg already told me about what a Seductress is. I’m not one.”

“You tend to behave like one. Seductresses are always open for business when it comes to fawning men.” Quinn’s quip was quick and razor sharp.

That shady comeback of Quinn’s made Zia wince in a phantom pain reminiscent of razors.

“Quinny—not cool!” Wren admonished the woman before Zia could fumble a shaky comeback. “Be nice.”

“What’s wrong? I sense pain.” Greg searched her for signs of distress.

They showed their freak flags. She might as well not hold back—on this part. “Quinn’s words hit a nerve. I saw razors, and then my insides felt light razors cutting from the inside out.”

“That would explain my injuries from last night too. Oh, Goddess, I prayed you hadn’t endured that pain.”

“I didn’t, not until Quinn’s words reminded me of razor cuts.”

“Interesting.” It was Lucien who’d taken the floor. “Do you remember what she said specifically to incite that feeling?”

“Let me think.” Zia replayed Quinn’s words. “I know what set off the pain. It was the word ‘open.’ Or rather, that I was always open.” Another truth clicked into place deep down in her knowing. She’d been open to God only knows what. “How do I close myself to attacks and all manner of crazy going forward?”

Miss Connie’s soft voice rang like a bell. “We have the triplets come over and help you.”

“Again with these triplets. Please don’t tell me they’re like the archetypal three sister witches, fairy godmothers, or other such nonsense you see all the time in mythology and children’s fairy tales.”

“Oh Goddess no, don’t ever equate them with fairies. They’re succubi,” Wren said with a shudder. She’d managed to move from her seat to sit in Matt’s lap without Zia detecting it.

“Did you say succubi, as in the female version of sex demons?” Heat suffused her face at the thought that all the stuff she’d taken in as lore could be real. “Precious Mother Mary, could I have been hanging with an Incubus and never knew it?”

Hildy’s bright, full alto answered. “From what I know you would know if an active Incubus had you in his crosshairs.” The woman looked at her with new interest. As her eyes narrowed a bit, Zia’s potential new BFF crush asked, “How do you know about those anyway? They all loosely fit in the sex manipulation category of beings—like Seductresses.”

“Whoa, again, not a Seductress. At least not on purpose.” Her stomach did another flip at the flash of something in Hildy’s eyes that screamed predator more than human. She sped up to answer. “I know about them from a weird night of drinking and hanging out with friends in some rather alternative nightclubs in Little Five Points.”

Still not letting her guard down, Hildy simply said, “Uh-huh.”

“If succubi are so dangerous why do you associate with triplet ones?”

“As I said, they’re good people, harmless even. They knew a lot about our world and helped me to discover who I was.” Wren leaned back into Matt’s arms.

Zia’s heart fluttered at the unabashed show of affection and love between those two. She wanted that—with Greg. A powerful urge to jump him right here washed over her senses, but only for a split second.

That old inner demon of hers swatted that notion down as swiftly as it had every other inkling before it.

Greg squeezed her hand, bringing her attention back to the room.

“What is more important is that you learn more about who and what you are. We’re prepared to help you do that.” His grip tightened for the briefest moment. “That is if you’re willing to stay and learn.”

Stay, with him? That would be a yes. Then Quinn’s other words came back like an annoying boomerang arc.

Nothing to do but blurt it out, “What did Quinn mean by saying I—I mean—we were in the mating thrall?”

Greg stiffened.

“You picked up on that, huh?” Ajax asked with a grin that could rival the Cheshire Cat. Out of everyone, he seemed to be the least concerned about her question of what a mating thrall was.

“Duh-yeah. If what I understand by the looks of things, each of you is mated.” She slowed down her gaze to land on each person to emphasize the observation. “From where I sit, mating is a serious matter.” Zia’s body relaxed with a sense of satisfaction. She found Quinn and leveled her new revelation at her. “You think I’m Greg’s mate. That’s why you don’t like me. You think I’m not good enough to be with him.” Triumph pimped her to keep going. “I’ll have you know, I’m more than worthy to be his mate. So much so, I’ll show you I’m the best mate around.” Still on her high, Zia turned toward a quiet Greg, grabbed him and planted a smack on his gorgeous lips.

When she attempted to pull away, his hand lightly stayed her body. This was dangerous territory, and yet, Zia felt safe enough to navigate it with him. To hell with the onlookers, she wanted this feeling. She wanted Greg.

Sensing that to go any longer would put them in an awkward position, Zia pulled back to end the kiss. Greg didn’t resist. Instead, he gave her a smile that warmed a part of her that had ceased feeling a long time ago.

Looking over to Quinn, pettiness rose up one more time as she said, “I’m a bad bitch, Quinn,” and poked her tongue out.

The other woman remained quiet only releasing a thin smile.