Blood-Born

Chapter IV - Part 3

The original corner office had been expanded with the annexation of the two adjacent to make what everyone now affectionately referred to as the slice of pie; curved outer walls covered with awards and plaques for accomplishments galore.

Pennington was greeted by Percival Kilgore who casually leaned against his desk; tie askew with a half finished drink in hand.

It did not help his nerves to know that he was in the presence of the very man who was rumored to know where every single body was buried and who put them there if he had not done so himself.

"Zachariah Orion Pennington as I live and breathe!" He cheered in a clear overly joyous greeting possibly tainted by however much that he had already imbibed and to belie the fact the man actually knew the full name of such a junior editor as he.

The weird vibe Pennington was getting by his sudden familiarity had taken a hard left turn into new and strange territory for which he felt woefully unprepared for considering what he had been expecting.

Kilgore had poured a second glass once he had refilled his own before he handed it to Pennington and raised his in toast.

"To the man selected to lead our next adventures west of the Mason Dixon Line!"

Contrary to his boss's boss largess in swallow, Pennington chose a more demure sip that proved just enough to burn his lips as his tolerance of alcohol had long proven poor and he knew better than to over indulge.

"Excuse me, sir?" He managed to sputter as his throat burned from what little that he had managed to swallow.

"You, my good sir ..." The man slurred while having poked Pennington in the chest lightly with his drink hand finger, "... have been chosen as the golden arrow."

When he saw the confusion, Kilgore's eyes widened and he let out a knee slapping howl of laughter.

"Did that dark filly Delilah not manage to find you in her father's lounge just now?" He laughed as he turned and rounded his desk to fall into his great chair. "My God man, sit and enthrall me with how she seduced you amongst lesser men."

Having grown seriously suspicious as to what he clearly wasn't yet in on, Pennington took a seat in the guest chair.

"She just asked me who I was ..." He paused before he blundered on, "... and if I wrote a story that she had recently read."

He suddenly realized that he now knew her name.

Delilah...

"Well, don't keep me in suspense ... were you that peculiar scribe and had you in fact written it as charged?" Kilgore inquired, his speech no longer slurred and his eyes sharp.

Pennington swallowed to gather courage. "I told her yes on both counts and she merely said that I'd do ..." He added air quotes for emphasis, "... before she just up and left."

"You have absolutely no idea who she is," Kilgore paused in dark mirth, "... do you."

Pennington simply shook his head as he absentmindedly took a sip from the glass and soon regretted it as his throat burned yet more.

Kilgore leaned back and closed his eyes as he enjoyed his own slow sip.

"She ... just happens to be the great, great, great ..." He paused suddenly to silently tick the count off on his fingers before having laughed to himself as he apparently found that he had indeed counted correctly, "... granddaughter of the man who brought all of ..." He raised a hand to gesture at everything around them, "... this over from the old country."