The Prophecy (Daughters of the People Series Book 1) (13 page)

The flat impressions
were much easier to work with than the seals. After taking additional pictures of
the tiny cylinders, he packed them away and sent them to the Archives for
storage. He snapped more images of the flat impressions, then set them out of
the way where they could dry and harden for later use.

The previous
day, before his adventure with Phil, George, and Tom at the bar, James had
taken the time to sort through the pictures taken at Sandby borg and pin them
up onto the corkboard taking up an entire wall in his lab. As a decorating
scheme, it left a lot to be desired, but it was handy for his purposes and
probably why he’d been assigned that particular room.

Now, the
photographs were arranged chronologically, with earlier writing systems on the
left and later ones on the right. There was a pattern there, he was sure. It
just hadn’t jumped out at him yet.

He’d started
working with the cylinder seals first since their inscriptions, rendered as
images partnered with a smattering of cuneiform, represented some of the oldest
inscriptions found in the Sandby borg grave. The language was Sumerian or maybe
Akkadian, but he wasn’t quite sure. In spite of his reputation as an archaic
language expert, the ancient Near Eastern languages weren’t his specialty and
he was a little rusty there. He’d often wondered if he’d spent too much time on
the Classical languages, their origins, and derivatives, and now he was
absolutely sure of it.

But he had a
book that might help. He peered around at the lab’s fixtures and ran a frustrated
hand through his hair. The book was in his office in a box he hadn’t unpacked
yet. He uttered a mild oath and set out, bringing copies of the photographed
impressions with him. Now that he had those, he could just as easily work in
his office.

Maya had been
right about the weather in Tellowee, he reflected during the short walk between
buildings. It was miserably humid during the day. The frequent afternoon
squalls rarely helped. The days would grow warmer as summer progressed and the
humidity with it, and he was confined to a business casual dress code. What he
wouldn’t give to be able to work in shorts and a t-shirt. On the other hand,
walking around in only his running shorts might not be such a good idea, given
the number of women on campus.

The previous
evening popped into his mind, bringing with it an image of Maya swaying with
him to some slow jazzy number, her eyes half-closed, her body relaxed against
his. He’d taken liberties there that he wouldn’t normally, but had figured at
the time that, given her standoffish attitude, the opportunity to dance with
her might not come again for a long time, if ever. So he’d held her a little
closer than propriety deemed correct and for a little longer, too.

It had felt
good, holding her, and somehow right.

Now, if he could
just convince her to go out on a date with him.

He laughed
quietly as he opened the door to the building housing his temporary office. He’d
never been the hound dog some of his friends were. He didn’t date a lot, but in
the past, when he’d been interested in a woman, nobody had turned him down. Of
course, the last time he’d dated seriously, he’d ended up married to her, and
hadn’t dated since their divorce. Maybe he was a little rusty there, too.

The building was
cool and dim compared to the bright summer heat. His footsteps echoed in the
empty hallway, eliciting an odd nostalgia. That sound always reminded him of
his father, a professor at UConn when James was young. His father had often
taken him to work on the weekends at his office on campus. It had been a happy
time for both of them. Those childhood memories had spurred James into academia
as an adult, a place he’d grown comfortable with long before he decided on a
career.

He rounded the
corner and pulled up short. Dierdre dawdled casually outside his office. She
wore a black tank top and calf-length Yoga tights, each embroidered with the
high school’s logo. Her dark hair was braided into thin plaits that were pulled
back into a loose pony tail. The outfit emphasized her lean, toned figure. James
stifled the urge to find a shirt for her to wear over the revealing clothing.

She pushed away
from the wall, her shoulders stiff. “Hey, Dr. T.”

“Hello,
Dierdre.” He unlocked the door and opened it. “What brings you by?”

“Oh, you know, just
checking to see how you’re doing.”

James studied
her carefully. Her words didn’t sound like a lie, but they didn’t quite ring
true either. He tilted his head toward the door. “Come on in.”

She followed him
into his office and plopped into one of the chairs placed in front of his desk.
The room had come furnished, as had his lab and the suite he was using. Maya
had told him to take what he needed from basement storage, but he’d been
satisfied with the simple furniture already gracing this room. The walnut desk was
a little dinged, but it was sturdy and functional. The bookcases lining the
walls were mostly bare. He’d only had room to bring four boxes of books on the
trip down and already missed the rest of his home library.

A loveseat was
shoved into a corner across from his desk. It was covered in a hideous floral
print, but it was comfortable. A small desk lamp sat near the edge of his desktop.
The only other furnishings were three chairs, one behind the desk and two for
visitors. It wasn’t much, but it would serve him well during his time at the
IECS.

James dropped
into the chair behind his desk and set the pictures aside. Dierdre pulled the
ends of her hair over her shoulder and twirled one thin braid around a finger.
Her wide-eyed stare was fixed on him. She opened her mouth, closed it again,
and frowned.

“Yes?” he
prompted.

“I know you’re
interested in my mom,” she blurted out in a rush.

Her words caught
him off guard. He searched for a polite way of agreeing and came up blank. How
did a man even begin to discuss his interest in a woman with her daughter?

“I’m ok with
that,” she continued, her voice a little firmer.

“I’m glad?” he
ventured cautiously.

Dierdre nodded,
as if he’d said exactly the right thing. She dropped the ends of her hair and
drummed her fingers on the chair’s arms. “You should be, ’cause I could make
your life real difficult if I weren’t.”

“I’m sure you
could,” he said with as much sincerity as he could muster.

“I know what
you’re thinking.” Her gaze was steady and calm, reminding him eerily of her
mother. “You think I don’t know what’s going on, but I do.”

“Er,” he said,
confused. “What’s going on?”

“Duh, Dr. T.”
She crossed her arms over her chest. “I know about the birds and the bees. I
know you want to have sex with Mom.”

Heat flooded his
cheeks. “Jesus, Dierdre. We haven’t even been on a date, yet.”

“Yeah, but
that’s what comes after. I’m not stupid, you know.”

James stifled a
curse and rubbed a hand over his eyes. “If we did do…that, it wouldn’t be
anything you’d need to know about.”

“Yeah, ok,
whatever.” Dierdre rolled her eyes. “The important thing is that you want to
snag Mom. You’re not gonna get her if you play all shy and stuff. I mean, it’s
sexy and cute and all, but it ain’t gonna work, you know?”

He groaned and
buried his head in his hands. “Dierdre, stop. Please.”

“I’m sorry, Dr.
T.”

James looked up
and caught an unguarded yearning cross the teenager’s features, so fleeting he
thought he’d imagined it.

“It’s just, I
want my mom to be happy and stuff, and she likes you, she really does.” Dierdre
leaned forward, her voice earnest. “But she’s got this hang up about dating and
I think she’s scared to try again, and if you don’t do something, she’ll never
go out with you and then we’ll be all alone again, like after Dad died, and I
don’t want that.”

Her lips
trembled and tears welled up in her eyes, and his heart ripped just a little.

“Hey,” he said
softly. He stood and walked around the desk, intending to pat her arm and maybe
reassure her, and never got the chance. Dierdre launched herself at him, wrapping
her arms around his waist, clinging to him with a muffled sob.

He froze. God, a
crying female. He’d never been good at dealing with them, never been good at
comforting women, and this one baffled him completely, poised as she was between
the maturity of womanhood and the longing of a child for her father. Another
sob hit his chest, so he did the only thing he could. He wrapped his arms
around her and patted her hair and hoped for the best.

“When did your
Dad die?” he asked.

Dierdre sniffled
and pulled away, her cheeks flushed pink, her eyes wet. She ran a careless hand
over her face, dashing away her tears. “I was, I don’t know, four maybe? I
remember him, though, and I miss him, so much.”

His heart nosedived.
Is this what Amelia had gone through since the divorce? He hadn’t died, but
still. Living apart from him might’ve felt like it to her. Familiar guilt
stabbed at him and he shoved it down. There was nothing he could do about the
situation with Amelia that he wasn’t already doing.

“He must’ve
loved you a lot.”

“That’s what Mom
says. I think she misses him, too, but probably not the same way.”

“Probably not,”
he said softly.

“It’s been a
long time since he left. Like, forever, you know? And she hasn’t dated or been
interested in a guy or anything, not ‘til you.”

He perked up,
interested in spite of himself. “Oh, really?”

Dierdre tilted
her head and peeked at him from the corners of her eyes. “And she really likes
you.”

“Hmm.”

She huffed out a
sigh. “Any other guy would be pumping me for information right now.”

“Been through
this before, have you?”

“Dude, guys,
like, fall all over the women here. It’s embarrassing.”

He lifted one
eyebrow. “Is it, now?”

“Yeah, but Mom’s
not interested, no matter how many guys throw themselves at her.”

“Maybe they’re
going about it the wrong way.” When she narrowed her eyes at him, he shrugged
and added, “Just a thought.”

“Maybe,” she
conceded. “But I know for sure she’ll put you off forever if you don’t make a
move on her or something. Like last night at the bar. I heard you had some
smooth moves, Dr. T.”

He didn’t even
wonder how she knew about that. Small town rumor mill. He was getting used to
it.

“So, I came up
with a plan.”

“Er, I’ve got my
own plans, Dierdre.”

“Yeah, but too
slow, dude. I’m in a hurry here.” She sat back down in her chair and crossed
her legs, her demeanor that of a general strategizing a war. “Now, I know you
asked her out and she wouldn’t go, so here’s what I’m thinking. There’s an
exhibition coming up next week. Lots of us are competing. You know,
demonstrating our skills with weapons and hand to hand and stuff. You’ll come,
right?”

He nodded
slowly. “Sure.”

“’Cause I’m
competing and I want you to be there, ok?”

“Ok.”

“Also, Mom will
be, too, and…”

He sat bolt
upright. “Wait. Maya’s competing?”

“Um, yeah,
‘cause she was a teacher here, like, ages ago, and since she’s in town, she’ll
be put on the roster.”

“She won’t by
any chance be wearing that outfit, will she?”

Dierdre looked
at her own outfit, then grinned broadly. “Oh, yeah, Dr. T. She will be.”

“Hmm.” Visions
of Maya in tight exercise clothes flitted through his head and heat throbbed
through him. He casually turned and sat down behind his desk. Some things a
daughter didn’t need to see, no matter how worldly she thought she was.

“Anyhow, after
the exhibition, you’ll say how you were impressed and all, and then you’ll,
like, ask her to teach you how to fight.”

“What?” James
snapped abruptly out of his daydream. “Oh, no. No, no, no. I’ve been warned
about that already. No fighting, absolutely not.”

“Aw, c’mon,”
Dierdre wheedled. “She won’t hurt you.”

She said that as
if it were a given that Maya was the better fighter, which she probably was.
What did he know about fighting?

“But I’ve heard
the older girls talk about how, you know.” She gestured helplessly. “Fighting
leads to other stuff.”

“Stuff?”

“Don’t be dense,
Dr. T.
Stuff
.”

A light dawned.
“Right.
Stuff
.”

“But you’ll tell
Mom you won’t do that
stuff
with her unless she’ll go out with you
first.” She brushed her hands together and relaxed confidently into the chair.
“Easy, peasy.”

He somehow
thought it wouldn’t be all that easy. “How about if I reserve the fighting
lesson as a backup in case my plan falls through?”

Her expression
turned doubtful. “I dunno, Dr. T. Guys never come up with good plans.”