When Sheriff Paul Plowman wakes to find dozens of escaped mythological creatures roaming through the intergalactic city of Fabula Rasa, he is forced into action on his day off. He's able to stop the invasion -- but at a cost. His neighbour, Maurice, is dead and Paul has been forced to kill a unicorn, which is against the honour code of his family.
In the aftermath, Paul is tasked with solving where all of these animals came from. He soon meets Daniel Markus, a former interspecies biologist and now zookeeper on Fabula Rasa, who helps him navigate the complex underground world of mythological animal trading. As they delve deeper and deeper into the mystery, attraction blooms.
After the danger passes, will there be something more between them than a love of every beast of the earth?
Daniel let out a low breath, and ran his hands through his hair. Dark circles appeared under his eyes. The deep red marks against his cheeks looked much worse than before. Paul regarded the report he was still filling out; the rest of the details he could do, since that was when he and Daniel's paths merged, in the school field, with the rest of the gunmen and women.
"I can take over," he said. "You should go to the hospital and get an antibiotic shot or something."
"And wait in line for them to tell me they're out? No thanks. I have my own at home. Do you need any?"
Paul looked at his hands, expecting to find them bloody. They were not. He hadn't been hit or scratched or even tripped once today. He'd been a veritable hero. A man of honor, a Plowman through and through.
So why am I still shaking?
Daniel slipped his hands over Paul's again. A forward gesture, one that was still meant to be kind, but also came with its own ulterior motives. "You should drink some milk. I know that sounds weird, but it helps me when I have a run in with the animals."
"Oh? You're not Daniel the Lion Tamer?"
Daniel laughed good-naturedly at the Biblical reference. "No. I just know basic science. When the body is scared, it doesn't matter if the mind knows that the fear is now over. That the animal that just growled at you and charged you is in a cage or tranquilized or whatever. The fear lingers. You were almost mauled by any number of creatures today. Your body is still trying to figure out how it's still alive, how you don't need to fight anymore."
Paul swallowed hard. That's certainly what it felt like. He hadn't consumed any coffee, despite it flowing in the police station, because he already felt as if he'd consumed a pot. "How do I get through it?"
"You have to shake it out. Literally like a dog." Daniel mimicked a mutt who had gotten wet, wriggling his back and then opening his eyes with a smile. "It seems silly, but it works. The body knows what it wants at the end of the day."
"And the milk?"
"That's just for comfort. Like those babies ..." Daniel shook his head again, thinking of the foals. "If they're still alive, and I think they are, they're going to need unicorn milk."
"Unicorn milk?"
"Yeah. But there's no such distributor for that--trust me, I've tried to find one -- so your next best bet is coconut milk. Check all the stores who have been selling it. I assure you, you'll see a sudden boost in sales if those foals are alive. Unless they have a wet nurse mother." Daniel shook his head again. "And then, all bets are off."
"How common is that?"
"Before today, I would say rare. After today ..." Daniel only shrugged.
Paul turned over the back of an invoice for more tranquilizer guns to write out the information on milk. His hands still shook. He waited until Daniel left, with another promise of sending the unicorn body to the university lab for an autopsy, before he got up and excused himself into the private bathroom in the station.
Under the harsh lighting, he eyed his pale skin. The similar dark circles under his eyes. There was no blood on his uniform, since he'd been able to change before taking statements and sorting out this nonsense, but he still knew exactly where it had been on his body. He had survived without a scratch. How? Why? For what purpose? It didn't seem fair, didn't seem right.
He looked at his shaky hands. This was his only wound. It wasn't as bad as some had it, but it certainly made him want to throw up and never venture outside again. Like his father. Like his drunk father who --
Paul cut off the thoughts and shook violently. He mimicked the dog he had growing up, then mimicked Daniel. He let his body grow rigid and then loose; he shook and shook and shook. His hands trembled in front of him. He balled his fists. And then, when an eerie sensation of fear and trembling passed over him, he stopped.
He looked into the mirror. Still pale. Still hollow looking around the eyes. But his hands no longer shook.
"Well, I'll be damned," he said, and laughed. One thing had gone right today. This triumph, coupled with the advice about the milk, both for himself and the foals -- if they were out there, if they were alive -- made him trust Daniel even more.
