Page 15 of Feral

Oh, teaching wasn’t my passion, that was true, but I was good at it. I knew that much from my students’ reactions. I much more preferred the solitude of my books and the space to let my mind breath and explore new ideas. I loved sipping tea in the wee hours of the night as the answer to a question was suddenly discovered.

But even with all of that, I had wanted that job, had wanted to see the looks on my family’s face as ‘Daft-ne’, the butt of their jokes, suddenly had what they all did.

Would it have made a difference though, with Uncle George claiming to have gotten it all for me? Poor Daft-ne, couldn’t get it on her own so she had to have Uncle George do it for her.

The truth of that didn’t take the pain away and by the time I’d arrived back at the Archive and made it down to my department at the Secret Archive, I was barely holding back sobs.

“I’ll never earn their respect, will I?”

That realization just made me cry harder, so when the doors opened and I stepped out to find Reggie standing there with a party hat and balloons that said “Congrats on your new job!”, I started to wail uncontrollably.

One of the balloons popped and I jumped.

“No, Peter, I don’t think it’s the balloons,” Reggie said, slipping the hat off. “I think she didn’t get it.”

Reggie put all three of his surprisingly strong arms around me and I sobbed into his collar bone as he rubbed my back. Soon, a tissue box came floating my way and I plucked several from it.

“I’m sorry,” Reggie said.

“Thank you,” I hiccupped.

“I don’t know,” Reggie said to the air before turning to me. “Do you still want cake?”

“Cake?”

“Um…well, I looked online about what people do at parties even though it’s just the three of us, and all of the articles said that there’s usually cake. So I got one.”

It was so wonderfully sweet and innocent and it made me burst into fresh tears.

Reggie continued to hug me until this wave passed and then cleared his throat.

“Peter says to tell you that it’s chocolate. Does that matter?”

I let out a soft chuckle in spite of how my head was starting to ache.

“Sometimes, but it doesn’t really matter at the moment. Anything would be nice.”

I blew my nose and dried my eyes as my Mothman assistant and the poltergeist that was apparently now a full-fledged member of our department cut pieces from the small round cake. I didn’t have much of an appetite to be honest, but Reggie smiled at me with such sympathy and hope, as if this slice of cake could heal the gaping wound my uncle had left me with. I was just about to shove the first bite into my mouth when the door opened and a beautiful Korean man stepped into my sad little warehouse.

Reggie trilled next to me, his wings shuddering violently before he stepped a little in front of me. I’d never seen him upset like this before and I was shocked to realize it was a protective kind of reaction.

The man in front of me grinned down at Reggie.

“I’m not here to immolate her,” his deep voice was amused. “Director Dearborne needs to see Ms. Reynolds.”

“Me?” I squeaked.

“Yes. There’s a case that’s come up that requires your particular knowledge.”

A sound like a tin can being dropped made me jump and I looked over to see one of the empty neutralizer containers had been tipped over. The air shimmered around it and I realized that Peter must’ve done it.

“Don’t worry, little poltergeist,” the man said. “I’ll be sure to return her in one piece.”

Reggie turned to me, his long eyebrows that acted as sort of antennae were standing straight up and there was an odd red gleam to his dark brown eyes.

“I don’t understand, why are the two of you so upset?” I asked.

“Because,” Reggie whispered, “he’s a Dragon.”

---