Dark Omega

CHAPTER 37 - LUNCH FOR TWO

Marcus and Calpurnia Pisonis sat around the table, eating a lunch of a faux beef stew, side salad, and white bread. The beef stew was passable. The texture of the meat was nice, but it was too bland to be called tasty. The vegetables, however, tasted as if they had come right off the farm. The bread was freshly baked, the crust crunchy and the inside still warm.

"Real veggies? Fresh bread?" Marcus said between bites.

"Yes. From one of the greenhouse orbitals. We get deliveries almost daily. And the Pentacle has a small bakery. They have wonderful pastries. Here," Cal said and handed him a small container, "try the butter."

"Butter?" Marcus reached for the box. "As in real butter, made from cow's milk? Didn't know you had flying cows here on New Venice." He opened the lid, and indeed, there was butter inside, yellow and creamy.

"It's from my treasure trove. It's one of my—admittedly many—weaknesses. Wine is another," she said and poured Marcus a glass of a deep red wine. She put the bottle down after filling her own.

"To the Dragon everlasting," she said and lifted the glass in a toast.

"The Dragon everlasting," Marcus replied, had a sip, and set his glass down. "Is there anything about me you do not know?"

Cal was sitting cross-legged next to him on the couch, exposing an elegant leg. She was wearing sandals with ankle ties. It was very 'dressed like the ancients' and made Marcus think of the mural of Athena.

"The signet ring is a dead giveaway for one. But really, no one but a Dragon Order agent could have gotten access to the Maiden the way you did. The Dark Omega means nothing on its own. Having the blessings of each of the Tetrarchs is no mean feat, but the approval of the Draconic Assembly...they would never give that to an outsider. I'm mildly surprised they could even agree on who to send."

I wouldn't say they agreed. The Assembly doesn't know what I'm doing here—Xerza pretty much coerced the assembly into giving her carte blanche to pursue weapons that can be used against the Legions of Shadow.

"After we're done eating, you have to leave," Marcus said. There was no humor in his voice now, no leeway either. "I appreciate the extra service, but soon I'll delve into something that I can't share with outsiders."

She ignored him, picking something out of the picnic basket instead, three disks of different sizes, each wrapped in waxed paper. "Cheese?"

"I'm serious, Cal. You leave after lunch—or you don't leave at all." The way he said it left no room for misunderstanding.

"Sorry, I should have identified myself earlier. But it was just too much fun," Cal said and leaned forward to give Marcus a look down her cleavage. He caught a glimpse of rounded breasts wrapped in lace—and a golden dragon tattoo over her heart. "Would you like a taste," she asked, not talking about the three pieces of cheese she was holding.

"I have one like it," Marcus replied without humor and brought a clawed fist to his heart. "But it doesn't prove anything. Dragon tattoos can be faked. Or you could be a real dragonsworn, but working for someone else. That we're on the same side doesn't mean we're on the same team, if you catch my drift."

"After wine and butter, cheese is my greatest weakness. Tall, dark men come on a good number four. I claim to have a fast metabolism, but it's the Technocracy that lets me keep my figure," she said. "And now that I'm older, I'm forced to actually exercise."

"Stop fooling around, Cal," Marcus ordered. "I'm serious. You walk away, or you end up on the floor. And that means exactly what you think it means, so don't fuck around. That's how important this mission is."