Page 2 of Connected
As soon as she was gone, Owen leaned forward. “Another person?”
With one of his enigmatic smiles, Townsend spent a moment watching his cigarette smoke waft toward the high ceiling. Owen watched too, thought for a moment that the smoke looked an awful lot like a human figure, and then blinked the illusion away. The chief was weird in every sense of the word, and his proximity was getting to Owen.
“So,” said the chief suddenly, startling him a little, “how long have you been with the Bureau, son?”
“I, uh, finished training six months ago.”
“Yes, of course. And have you enjoyed your time thus far, the anzu notwithstanding?”
“Of course, sir.” Then Owen, whose parents had taught him that lying was a sin, took a deep breath. “I mean, it’s been harder work than I imagined, sir. And, um, sometimes pretty scary.” Actually, sometimes downright terrifying, but he wasn’t going to admit that out loud.
Townsend stubbed out his cigarette, immediately lit another, and refilled his glass. “But you wish to stay with us?”
Owen’s gut clenched. “Yes!” he blurted, probably too loudly, then added more quietly, “Very much so.”
“Why? You’re a strong young man and reasonably bright. You could have any number of jobs, I’m sure. Why take one that endangers your life?”
“Because I feel like I’m doing some good. Saving people, maybe. Making a difference.”
“Hmm.” Townsend drained his glass again, spent a few moments staring pensively at the whiskey bottle, and then poured a refill. “You were a cattle rancher, yes?”
“My parents had a ranch.” It hadn’t been a particularly successful one, as one disaster or another always seemed to plague them. By the time Owen reached high school, his dad was trying to make ends meet by working in the oil fields, which left Owen, his mom, and two older brothers to run the ranch. It hadn’t gone well, and the bank took over the place around the time that Owen left home. He didn’t know what his family had done next.
“And what interested you in the Bureau specifically? There are many ways to help others.”
Before Owen could answer, a waiter came by with his Coke and then the waitress appeared with what seemed like a lot of food. Townsend immediately filled his little appetizer plate to overflowing while Owen eyed the unfamiliar dishes with some trepidation. “Help yourself,” said Townsend, gesturing, and Owen took some focaccia to be polite.
He hoped that would be it for the conversation, but no such luck. Townsend raised his eyebrows and swallowed a mouthful of shellfish. “You were telling me why you applied to become an agent.”
“I got rescued by a dragon.”
Townsend simply waited. Owen suppressed a groan. Apparently he was going to have to spill the whole story, even though he was certain that the chief knew it already.
“After I left Wyoming, I got a job as a stable hand at Yosemite. It was just a seasonal thing. When I had time off, I went hiking. Anyway, I didn’t really know what I was doing, and one day I wandered off the trail and got lost. It was stupid of me. I didn’t have the right supplies for camping and didn’t know how to manage being in the wilderness. We have mountains in Wyoming, but they’re not like that. Well, I spent two nights there, frightened to death. Turned my ankle and could hardly walk. Got sick from drinking stream water. I thought I was done for.”
The chief, who’d been working his way through the appetizers, motioned for him to continue.
“I’d pretty much given up, sir. I was just sitting against a rock. Then I looked up and….” He paused, remembering the astonishment he’d felt at the time. “At first I thought it was a bird. A turkey vulture or even a condor. But it came closer and I saw… a dragon.”
“Were you scared?”
Owen shook his head. “I probably should have been. But he was so beautiful, you know? And it was just… magical. A real-life dragon! Then he landed and turned into a naked guy with strange eyes. First he made sure I wasn’t actively dying and then he yelled at me for being an idiot, which was fair enough. He changed back into a dragon, sir, and made it clear I was supposed to ride on his back.”
The dragon had taken flight, and Owen, who’d never flown even in an airplane, was almost overcome with wonder and delight. He’d forgotten all about the pain and nausea and shame and about every dumb thing he’d done and the unhappiness he’d recently fled. That time in the air had been by far the most perfect minutes of his life.
“The sun set while we were flying, which I guess was good—nobody saw him when we got closer to people. He left me nearthe stables and turned into a man long enough to make sure I could handle the last part on my own, I think. But he also told me about the Bureau. He said once I got my act together, maybe I should apply. Then he was gone.”
“Ah.” Townsend nodded a few times. “Agent Crespo—formerAgent Crespo, I should say. He’s only a contractor with us now but always has a good eye for potential recruits. I’ve found a few agents thanks to him. And you decided to take his advice?”
“Because of dragons, sir. With the Bureau I can help people, and I can do it while meeting dragons. And sasquatches. And demons! And, uh, whatever Charles Grimes is.”
That made Townsend chuckle. “That’s right—he consulted on one of your cases last month. He is an interesting fellow.”
Interestingwas one way to put it. Grimes was intense and sort of eerie, and his lover was an actual demon—which still kind of shook Owen. He still wasn’t used tohumangay couples being open about their affection.
He took a bite of bread and washed it down with some Coke. “I wanted a job—a career—where I could help folks and do it in the company of… of the extraordinary.” That was the best he could explain it.
And fortunately, that was enough, because the chief finished off the appetizers, glanced toward the restaurant entrance, and smiled. “Ah. Our guest has arrived.”
