Zolotovsky leaned back in his chair and crossed his legs. “Can you tell me more about it?”
The change of subject was welcome, and David had no doubt that it was also intentional. The Russian was smartly backing away from the personal inquiries and moving into neutral territory.
It was a relief. David felt as if Kajeck had lifted his foot off his chest so he could breathe again.
Talking about his novel was much easier than thinking about his unresolved issues with Jonah.
6
Kalugal
The change of subject brightened the professor’s glum expression. “Are you sure you want to hear about it? I’ve only written a few chapters, and the story might take a different turn down the line.”
“I find the creative process fascinating. When your novel comes out in print, I’ll be able to compare the finished product to your original idea.”
David chuckled. “Didn’t your people hack into my notes while compiling my dossier?”
Kalugal put a hand over his heart. “You have my word that no hacking of your notes was or will be done. As I said, my investigation was very superficial, and my aim was to find out a little more about your academic and personal life before meeting you. I have enemies in the business world, and I needed to make sure that you weren’t connected to any of them.”
“I can understand your need to take precautions, but you also must understand how uncomfortable that made me feel.” The professor pushed to his feet. “Can I offer you a cup of coffee?”
Kalugal smiled. “Thank you. I would love a cup.”
The truth was that Kalugal hadn’t bothered checking the professor’s background prior to deciding to introduce David to Sari. After, though, he’d had his men dig up every possible tidbit about him, including interviewing a small sample of the many female faculty and students who had hooked up with him over the past three years.
The professor was very popular, and there had been no shortage of ladies to choose from.
The picture Kalugal had gotten was of a man who kept his heart protected and his emotions distant but was not dismissive of the ladies’ feelings. The only negative his partners had talked about was David’s reluctance or inability to enter long-term relationships. They had reported that the professor had been pleasant to be with, a good lover, and a good listener, but the feelings just hadn’t been there.
Kalugal had no problem with Dr. Levinson being a butterfly who flapped his handsome wings and sampled many different flowers.
The professor’s attitude was similar to that of most immortals, albeit for different reasons. Kalugal wasn’t a psychologist or even overly empathic, but David’s emotional distance must be the result of the losses he’d suffered.
The professor had lost his twin five years ago, and then his father three years later.
Kalugal wasn’t going to bring that up, though. David was obviously still mourning his brother, and the loss weighed heavily on him. Mentioning the death of his father would have killed his mood completely.
Doctor Levinson senior had been a renowned cardiologist, and the article that Kalugal had read talked about the doctor’s failure to diagnose his son’s heart condition. Evidently, he’d failed to diagnose his own as well because Doctor Levinson the elder had also perished from heart failure.
Hopefully, David was made from sturdier stuff. Otherwise, even if he had the godly genes, and his induction worked, he wouldn’t survive the transition.
The mother was still alive, and hopefully the professor had inherited her sturdy constitution. Then again, Ronja was a relatively young woman. Levinson the father had been twenty-four years her senior.
Had the father been a womanizer like his son?
He’d gotten married at the age of forty-three, which was late for a human, and he hadn’t stayed married for long. David’s parents had divorced when he and Jonah were eighteen.
While Levinson the elder had remained single, the mother had remarried and had even given David a half-sister.
The professor returned to the study with a tray and put it on the table. “Cream and sugar?” He poured Kalugal a cup.
“No, thank you. I’ll take it black.”
David cast him an amused glance. “Is it a taste or health preference?”
As Kajeck, Kalugal was a little heavyset, and the professor probably assumed that he was watching his diet.
“Taste, my friend.” Kalugal patted his nonexistent belly. “This plump beauty doesn’t bother me.”
The question was how the professor would react when Kalugal dropped the shroud, and whether he should explain the situation before or after revealing his true form.
But first, he needed to test the professor’s responsiveness to compulsion. So far, Kalugal hadn’t used much because David had been more than willing to cooperate, and there had been no need.
But things were about to change.
David shook his head. “Forgive me if I unintentionally offended you.”
“You did not.” Kalugal leaned back and smiled. “As the saying goes, we Russians don’t beat around the bush. Tell me, David. Why aren’t you married? You are a handsome, successful guy, with no shortage of admirers.” Kalugal imbued his tone with a smidgen of compulsion.
David shifted uncomfortably and forced a smile. “I haven’t found the right woman yet.”
That was an untruth. It seemed like the professor needed a stronger push.
“Tell me the truth, David.” He smiled reassuringly. “We are friends. Aren’t we?”
Grimacing, David managed to resist for a short moment before blurting out, “I was engaged once.”
“What happened?”
He shrugged. “My fiancée left me.” He added an eye roll. “She said that she didn’t feel the love.”
“But that wasn’t the real reason.”
“It’s not what you think, Kajeck. There had been no infidelity on either part.”
David was still fighting the compulsion, which wasn’t a good sign. If he was resistant, Kalugal would have to rethink the plan of taking him to Scotland and introducing him to Sari.
A hunch was all he had on which to base his suspicion that David was a Dormant. If it turned out that he wasn’t, he would have to be returned to his old life sans his memories.
“So, what happened? Did she suddenly fall out of love?” This time Kalugal didn’t throttle his power of compulsion.
David swallowed once, twice. “After Jonah’s death, she just couldn’t deal with my grief and depression.”
“Then she wasn’t the one.” Kalugal leaned forward. “Life is full of miseries, big and small, and you don’t want a partner who can’t be there for you when things go south.”
David nodded. “I realized the same thing. What I can’t understand, though, is how I fell in love with a woman that shallow in the first place. I must be a bad judge of character.”
“I doubt that. If you can’t figure a person out, who can? You are a psychologist and a psychiatrist.”
“There is a reason doctors don’t treat family members. Emotions get in the way.”
“Perhaps you weren’t in love with her at all.”