Zia… Outside the Dragofin Lair, Atlanta, GA

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“And, we’re here!” Miss Connie spread her arms open as she displayed the site like a rare prize.

Miss Connie had led the charge after Zia insisted there was nothing here. Victory shone brightly on the older woman’s face. It amazed her at how fast Miss Connie’s little legs could move when challenged to prove her case. She’d stomped briskly to take Zia to a place she’d respectfully told the woman didn’t exist. Here they were and stood on firm ground. There was no denying it. There was a building here—just like Miss Connie had sworn there would be.

The triumphant grin that spread across the other woman seemed more like the glint of the Cheshire Cat than a mere Diner owner.

Zia tried hard not to let an audible squeak of a mixture of relief, joy, and confusion with a dash of disbelief escape. With her arms moving about to showcase the sight before them, the older woman looked more like a wizened game show model flirting with the expiration of her prime than a guide to a building that wasn’t supposed to be here.

Hues of emerald, hunter, and moss green poked through the rich brown of the earth and new leaves of the dense thicket of trees to give the scenery a magical vibe. Zia’s body felt alive like there was a low-grade hum buzzing from her core.

Was the air alive?

Zia pushed the rare sensation of butterflies down as her stomach lurched and fluttered. It hadn’t been the unexpected squirrel that skittered across her path that was the cause of the acceleration of her heartbeat and clammy hands. No, it was the sight that stood prominently in front of her.

It figured. This is where he lived.

Why wouldn’t his living space be just as strange, alluring, exciting and life-disrupting? Now would be a great time to beg off going through with her crazy compulsion to see him one more time. Maybe it was too soon to be back here confronting her demons and desires.

“It’s so big, and here—I thought…”

“There, there, hun. Take a moment to take it all in.” Zia felt eyes that were the lightest blue watch her, as the older woman added, “Catch your breath. Don’t want you passing out. You’d make it to the ground faster than I could get one of the fellas to catch your fall.”

Zia heard Miss Connie’s words in the distance too far away from her immediate attention to pay much mind to them. It took too many mental calories to process the stately edifice that stood here in all its glory and listen to the older woman’s ramblings.

A whisper, soft, and halting slipped out of her psyche. It floated on the cool morning air like a Ninja directive to retreat.

“Do I want to go through with this?”

As soon as the thin thought sprang up, conviction to follow through on her task pulsed and pounced tearing down that negativity. Focused on being the strong, sure, Zia from before, she stood her ground. She never wanted to be duped or swayed by lying emotions that seemed to plague her ever again. Zia’s gut jerked forward to stamp this moment as the one that could take her life into a different trajectory.

Like a plop of finality into a well of certainty, she knew she couldn’t turn back. Nothing about this was going to be normal… or easy, but it had to be done.

“See, hun, I told you to trust me. We’re here.” Miss Connie’s voice continued to hum at the edge of her thoughts.

“Yes, it appears so,” was all she could manage to get out in the swell of the moment.

A few weeks ago, her life had changed forever. Zia had been kidnapped and tortured by her boyfriend, Patrick. That by itself would have been enough to traumatize anyone, but he’d turned out to be an alien-dinosaur-like bird who fed off her life force.

New buds of life surrounded the building as the first hints of spring made an appearance. Zia focused on that one part of this wacky encounter—new life. She had to hold onto forging a new life. New everything was the priority objective if she was to keep her sanity.

Not arguing with the therapist her family had insisted she see when she went home to regroup, Zia half-way accepted her PTSD. There was no way she could tell anyone the complete truth about what she’d seen and endured. Talk of Alien abductions would get her thrown into an asylum faster than a hot soufflé’ could fall in a cold room. Still, she needed to come back—to see him one last time.

He’d saved her.

Maybe it was the state of her mind that had played tricks on her that night, but Zia had seen things about him that defied explanation as well. Nothing was ever going to be the same.

“This is so big.” Zia’s words floated up with the craning of her neck. She spoke of more than the height and width of the building. This event was so significant.

“I know,” the older woman said, walking over to stand close by. “I’ll give you another moment, but just one. Can’t let you stand out here staring all day.”

The edifice seemed to know they stood here gazing at it. Zia allowed her eyes time to scale the height of the building. The top was flat unlike most buildings in the area that had a pitch. She drifted into an imagining of a trendy rooftop terrace that was host to exciting gatherings. Gatherings that she wanted to be a part of.

Shaking her head clear of that wayward thought, Zia pushed the desire out of her mind. Her being here was for closure and nothing else.

NOTHING ELSE.

Miss Connie, the owner of The Diner across the street, hadn’t been as cuckoo as she’d thought—this time. True to the woman’s word there was a five-story red brick building standing tall and imposing before her. If she didn’t know better Zia could easily believe the building called to her.

Eyeing it again, a level of awe and respect rose within. This was more of an experience than a sight to behold. The building had to be way more. Complexity and depth rolled off it as she continued to take it all in.

Words too breathy to conceal the impact of the moment continued to swell, filling the space between the two women.

“I thought you were kidding. It’s so… real.”

Miss Connie’s smile and comforting assurance seasoned her words. “It has a name. Meet the Lair.” The woman turned back toward the building and said, “Lair, I’m pleased to introduce you to Zia Carter.” Miss Connie stepped aside and made a grand gesture of pointing to the massive doors of the Lair. After a beat, she added, “Great, you’re welcome to come in. The Lair approves and likes you.”

“Huh? Please don’t tell me you heard the building say that.”

A smile that hid more than it revealed crinkled the corners of the other woman’s expressive eyes, “You could say it did, in its own way. The fact that you can see it, and you’re not in severe pain is its way of accepting you.”

And with that Zia snatched back her previous conclusion. Yes, Miss Connie was indeed a wee bit on the cuckoo side. A building with the ability to cause severe pain or produce a canopy of invisibility?

Please.

This was another one of Miss Connie’s signature statements that made her a lovable character. Zia categorized that last part and placed it into the area she’d created in her mind to allow for Miss Connie’s unique brand of quirkiness.

The older woman had said some pretty far-fetched things since meeting her. Most of it landed in this area. It worked to help Zia have a sane interaction with her. Otherwise, they would never be able to make it past one of the woman’s statements to another.

She had to admit one thing. The building seemed to continue to throw off good vibes her way, enticing Zia to come forward. Just this once she’d play along with Miss Connie’s view of the world. She’d been introduced to a building, and somehow it felt appropriate—needful even—to have an introduction.

“This—it, excuse me. The building has a name?”

Miss Connie nodded, remaining silent as Zia refocused her attention on the presence that felt more-alive with each passing second.

“The Lair, wow,” was all she could manage. Her mouth hung open continuing to stare up at the impressive sight. Should she curtsey or bow? “Hello Lair,” Zia whispered, hoping that would suffice and help soothe her turbulent stomach.

Now, who was the cuckoo one? She’d addressed a building like it was a living being and it felt right. All the stuff she’d attributed to mental instability had come home to roost. Zia had become that person. One who talked to inanimate objects and expected them to answer. Or, was it Miss Connie’s influence and encouragement?

Coming straight to The Diner after getting off the Interstate, there hadn’t been much time to catch her bearings before Miss Connie had whisked her over here. With her mother’s impeccably good home training in place, Zia hadn’t protested.

To her perfectly good eyesight there had been nothing across the street save some trees. When the other woman had instructed Zia to follow her to where he lived, she’d obeyed hoping this wouldn’t turn into an embarrassing situation for Miss Connie.

“I admit it, you were right. I apologize.”

“Oh, dear one, no need to apologize. It happens. You’ve never been at this point in your life.”

“What point is that?”

“Well, your destiny, of course.” Miss Connie gave a little chuckle like what she said was the most obvious thing ever.

The journey here had been momentous, more like transformative. From The Diner to here had been short, but through the thicket of trees to stand before the building seemed to be like crossing the sands of time.

Zia tried to recount the steps they’d taken and they all made perfect, logical sense. She still couldn’t explain this building. In her recollection they’d crossed the street, walked through a thicket of trees, and like one of the Pevensie children going through the wardrobe to Narnia, this building had materialized.

Zia turned back to see The Diner’s glassed-in front glistening in the morning sun. She was indeed across the street, but how this building had managed to go hidden all that time was crazy. The building that stood less than fifteen feet away housed her rescuer. He’d saved her from the event that had turned her life upside down. If Miss Connie was correct, he was in there right now.

You’ve got this. It’s a quick thank you and goodbye. Less than an hour tops, for politeness, yeah. Then you’re out of here.

The surrounding air lulled her into its electrifying stillness. The air was lighter than normal, full of movement and potential. It defied convention pulsating within an encasement of calm. If Zia didn’t know any better, she’d swear it behaved as it waited for her next move, like it had a mind, and wanted to interact with her.

“Hun, are you ready to go in and see him?”

Miss Connie stood close enough for Zia to smell the faint aroma of cooked food that mingled with a sweet fragrance that smelled like apples, delicate blossoms, and cinnamon. It worked for the woman, giving her an air of maternal comfort and stability. Miss Connie’s scent reminded Zia of her bakery and the simpler life she’d had before recent events. Exactly what she needed to pull this off and stay the course to health and healing.

During the last two days, every minute to this point had been an experiment in hope, faith, and strength. While her car ate up the miles from Zia’s family home back in Texas to here in Atlanta, her mind had been on an endless loop of questions, doubt, and dare she admit it, a bit of fear.

She had feelings for him—strong ones that wouldn’t leave. Betrayal of her logic and common sense weighed heavy on her ability to think straight. The right thing to do was to cease from continuing to nurse an attraction to him.

“Zia? Can you hear me, child?”

Miss Connie had no way of knowing how hard it was to be here. He wasn’t who she’d thought he was. Afraid to say it out loud didn’t take away the certainty that she knew he wasn’t what he showed the world.

“I, uh…,” was all she could get out.

Zia’s gut cosigned that thought with the memory of that horrible night each time it tormented her. Yep, with every passing mile she drove back here, Zia had questioned her sanity. Nothing would ever be the same again. Why she’d been willing to return to the place that had stripped her of so much self-identity, was if Miss Connie was correct, behind those imposing doors of this building.

The older woman had appealed to her to come back for closure. Zia had agreed despite her mother’s silent protest and guilt-job. Her mother used silence with the aplomb of a master swordsman. Zia could hear what she didn’t say louder than any shout.

Truth be told she’d wanted, no, needed to see him one last time. That need powered her actions, even at the risk of pissing off her mother.

Maybe her mind had been playing tricks on her? Maybe he was the normal man she remembered and not the frightening creature from her nightmares? It could be how her trauma event had painted him.

He’d been the one to take down her captor. In her reasoning of the situation, Zia wanted the explanation of how things went down to make tidy sense. She wanted it to be that he had been able to subdue the monster with human abilities and skills. Not by flight and transformation into an animal mix that was fiercer than anything she’d ever seen in a horror flick. That was her hope.

Hope was a powerful thing. Power in hope, at least she still had that ability.

This building standing here plain in the bright morning light was another reminder that her world had changed. No matter what Miss Connie said, she knew it hadn’t been here before. A thousand times, she’d driven down this road, and there had been nothing behind these trees.

“I’m not going to force you to go in if you’re not ready. You can—”

“No, I’m just… I have to get my bearings. Shoot, that’s not what I mean. I meant I’m almost—”

“Shh, child. I understand. We can go back over to The Diner. It’ll be time for me to check in on the morning shift soon anyway.”

Second guessing and doubting her memory wouldn’t be another thing she’d accept as part of the trauma she’d gone through. No, the Lair was new even if it seemed to have been here from the beginning of time with how firmly it inhabited the space. That fact played with her emotions oscillating between being excited, scared, and an intense level of pissed off.

Zia had been a “bad-assed bitch” in her assessment.

Before the incident, she’d been the master of her life. No one and nothing made her pause. Now, she didn’t know what her next step, thought or feeling would be.

Powerless was a piss-poor way to live, but here she was crawling, clawing and praying she’d be able to stand again. Power—humph—how stupid had she been to think that she’d held any type of power except the power of the foolish?

“Give me a second. Seeing the Lair this close is more—everything—than I expected. I feel like it’s waiting for my next move or something.”

“It is.”

Miss Connie didn’t say more, instead, taking up an expectant stance. Whatever happened next was on her. Zia would have to make the next move.

Her last boyfriend, Patrick, Paula or whatever that thing’s name was had kidnapped her and hijacked her connection with power. Did this woman, Miss Connie, understand what she asked of her?

Again, the upshot of hope bloomed within, assuring her that it hadn’t abandoned her. Hope was the power she’d feed on and used to propel herself forward. It was her lifeline to sanity and a future that didn’t end up in a dark place that she couldn’t come back from.

A gentle wind, crisp in the cool of the morning, brushed against her back. Even the elements appeared to want her to go inside.

Zia couldn’t understand her need to see the object of her obsession again. She’d express her gratitude and get back to her new life in Texas, in the safety of her family.

By the time she’d made it back to Atlanta, Zia had decided that it was best for her to return home. Her family would be there to help her, and she could help out with the family business. The closer she got to Atlanta, the more volatile her thoughts of lack of safety and losing herself became.

She didn’t like this Zia. Back home, she would have family support to become the one in charge and powerful. Here lay the way of uncertainty. She’d make quick work of this and go back home.

It might be part of her delirium, but she knew what she saw. He’d transformed into a humongous creature that had an eagle’s head and wings and lion’s body. She’d witnessed him fight and combat that dinosaur creature Patrick transformed into. He had swiped the massive dinosaur-bird out of the air with one of his lion’s paws that had fearsome claws on it.

Miss Connie’s version of him wasn’t the gentle, gorgeous, golden giant of a man Zia had first thought him to be. Her dreams confirmed that every time she closed her eyes. He was a beast creature born out of a mythical land. And, he must have had Miss Connie and the others fooled that he was a mere mortal.

And still, like the powerless nitwit she was, Zia wanted to see him. Had even made the long drive back to Atlanta expressly to see him—him.

Zia caught herself inhaling the air for strength when Miss Connie asked, “Well? Are we doing this or what? I had to get Lucien to permit me to bring you over here. I don’t want to waste a favor from him if you’re only going to stand out here and gawk. Believe me; there’s nothing to be afraid of behind those doors.”

“That’s easy for you to say. Miss Connie, you weren’t there. I know what I saw. It’s haunted my dreams ever since.” She wanted to amend that to stress he was who haunted her dreams in the form of a mighty lion-eagle but would keep that part to herself.

Miss Connie leaned over giving Zia a better sniff of her ambrosia-like scent. “And what did you see, hun?” Watery-sky blue eyes peered deep into hers. Was she daring Zia to answer?

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”

The older woman smiled. Even in the early morning, her face held a twinkle that said the woman knew many secrets and could hold a confidence. “Try me,” was all she said before clasping her hands and propping her chin on them in anticipation.

The doors to the building seemed to come alive as if they pulled and tugged on Zia. She could swear the building wanted her to come inside. Instead of looming and intimidating, it appealed to her curiosity as a hospitable mountain appearing out of nowhere would. Miss Connie continued to eye her, waiting for her next move. There was no way she’d give the woman definitive evidence that she was crazy by saying she’d seen stuff of fantasy and myth.

No, today wasn’t the one where Zia would crack and say out loud what tormented her thoughts. “It’s nothing. Yeah, let’s do this. I came all this way, better not waste a favor on me.” Staring at the huge doors and lassoing in a deep breath, Zia squared her shoulders. In an attempt to conjure up her former take no prisoners self, she said, “I’m ready, after you.”

When Zia remained silent after that bold proclamation, the woman grabbed her hand and almost yanked her to the entrance of the Lair.

Without fanfare or even a polite knock, Miss Connie opened the door, stepped in and said, “Time to meet your destiny, hun.”