Lion's Lair

Chapter 1: Thief in the Night

Arkham, Massachusetts. Friday, November 21, 1975.

Neal's breath came out in a strangled gasp as he was slammed flat on his back. For a moment, the walls of the Miskatonic University gym spun lazily around him as the barbells on the wall mounts performed a slow, jerky dance.

Sara's head popped into view over his head, an annoying smile on her face. "Oops. I didn't realize you'd be such an easy mark." She held out a hand to help him up.

He clasped her hand, faking pants as if he were out of breath. "Sure you did," he wheezed. "This is what ... the third time? You made your point. I'm as bad at self-defense ... as you are ... at singing." He rubbed his side with his left hand and grimaced.

Her smug look was immediately replaced by concern as she leaned closer. "Did I hurt you?"

Once her eyes were focused on his side, he yanked her onto the mat with a loud and eminently satisfying ker-plunk.

Sara glared at him indignantly. "That's cheating!"

She started it. How was he supposed to focus on judo when she wore that tight tank top and leggings? When Sara offered to give him a lesson, he'd expected her to show up in baggy trousers and a kimono jacket. When he teased her about it, she excused it as being required attire for a fake girlfriend.

Because, of course, there was no place more romantic than the university gym for a fake date. On a Friday evening, they had the wrestling room to themselves. All they needed were candles, a bottle of wine, and less judo. Sara could also lay off the fake date references.

Knowing that it was his fault only served to increase his frustration. He'd willingly agreed to her offer to be his fake girlfriend. Now she was settled so comfortably in the role, he doubted he could ever convince her to view him differently.

If he viewed it rationally, her strategy was the correct one. Like Peter, Elizabeth, and Mozzie, she'd volunteered to help him confront the threat of a hostile alien species. This was hardly the moment to pursue a romantic relationship. So stop tormenting me with tank tops.

When Sara offered to coach him, learning a few self-defense moves sounded like a good idea. She'd been studying martial arts since she was a freshman at college. For the past month, she'd taken advanced classes along with Detective Diana Briscoe of the Arkham Police Department.

He'd never studied any kind of wrestling or self-defense, and after two months of unplanned adventures, he was clearly past due. But it was also plain he wouldn't be an overnight success.

"You've forgotten what it's like to be a beginner," he pointed out. "You should go easier on me."

"Is that what you'll tell some thug from the Starry Wisdom cult when he grabs you on the street?" She slapped her forehead with her hand. "What was I thinking? I bet you're right! I'm sure he'll let you off the hook when he hears you're a novice. You can tell him to come back next year."

Sara raised a sensitive subject. Chad Lawson, a bully Neal knew from his childhood and who was now a cult member, had mugged him a few weeks ago. "The cult's no longer active in Arkham. After the police raid, there's been no sign of resurgence."

"But you don't know what the situation is like in Lyon. Hoodlums could be on every street corner." Sara sat next to him, crossing her legs. "With only a few days to prepare, we don't have the luxury of going slow. Honestly, you're not quite as horrible as you think you are."

He didn't feel like debating the degree of his ineptitude. "Did you have any trouble getting time off from the newspaper?"

She shook her head. "I simply told my boss the truth. We need to go to France because a space alien had written a message onto an armillary sphere once owned by the Renaissance scientist Heinrich Agrippa. When I explained that you were carrying the DNA of two alien species and that the world-famous archaeologist Peter Gilman and noted astrophysicist Dante Atwood were joining the effort, Larry immediately agreed that my presence was essential."