Robert Asprin - Dragons Luck

“Um… I can’t do that,” she said. “I can only change liquids one way. I don’t know how to do reversals.”

“I see,” Griffen said, successfully suppressing a smile.

“Let us buy you a fresh drink,” Tink said, frantically signaling the bartender, who had been watching the proceedings with vast amusement.

The assemblage waited in silence while the bartender brought Griffen’s new drink over and was paid by Tink, who waved off any change.

“Well, we’ll run along now and quit bothering you,” he said, gathering up his charges with his eyes. “I can see you’re busy. We just wanted to say hello and thanks. Maybe if we get a chance, I can fill you in a little on the fey… if you’re interested, that is.”

The pack moved off, already chattering back and forth among themselves before they reached the door.

“So what kind of security do you figure you’ll need for them?” Slim asked with a grin.

“I’ll admit they aren’t what I expected,” Griffen replied. “I didn’t know what to expect, but that wasn’t it. I just wonder if they’ll have any problems getting those kids into any of the bars or clubs.”

“They’ve probably doctored their IDs,” Slim said, “but don’t let their looks fool you. It’s the fey blood in them. I’ll bet there wasn’t one in that group who’s under fifty.”

Longafter the Irish pub had closed for the night, Mai found herself walking by the shuttered doors. Toulouse, two blocks off Bourbon, was absolutely deserted at this hour. Still, she expected company.

He came around the corner a block away and started to head toward her. She knew he could have appeared at any time; he could have surprised her. Instead, he wanted her to see him coming. It seemed he wanted her to feel safe. Which was unnecessary—if she cared about feeling safe, she wouldn’t have caught his attention.

He limped ever so slightly, one leg just a bit shorter than the other. His face was unremarkable, his body perhaps a bit under average in size and build. His clothes were cheap, just a bit dirty, and of muted colors. As he stepped up to her, she couldn’t help but smirk. His eyes narrowed as he caught her expression.

“You think you are clever, don’t you?”

“Of course I do, George,” Mai said.

George straightened and before Mai’s eyes he became a different person. Taller, stronger, more handsome. His face had just a touch of Spanish overtones. Even his hair was more styled now.

“Is this the real you?” Mai asked.

“Does it matter?” George said.

“No, I suppose not.”

“How did you find me out?”

“What, that you were stalking Griffen as a videocrack addict? You are good, one of the best shape-shifters I’ve ever seen. But not the best. You don’t smell like most playing those machines. Your eyes track things a little too closely. And even though they are a different color now—yes, I noticed—they have the same kind of predator glint.”

George reached into his pocket and pulled out a long Knight of Swords tarot card. Mai had slipped it to him just after the vampires had made their appearance at the pub. She knew that it would be enough to bring him to her.

“And how many of these did you slip others you suspected were me before you hit pay dirt?” he asked.

“Does it matter?” she answered with his own words.

“Yes, too many of these floating around might jeopardize me, as innocuous as they are.”

Mai seethed a bit inside. Yet if that was what it took to get the ball rolling, she could admit a failure. This once.

“Fine. Only one. A homeless man. He stared at me blankly, then yelled at me for not giving him money. Still, I thought it might be you not wanting to admit I had caught you,” Mai said.

“And what put you on guard for me?”

“Now, do you really expect me to tell all my tricks?” Mai said.

“What do you want, dragon?!”

George spat the last word like a curse, and Mai cocked her head slightly. She pursed her lips, tasting her words before she let them out.

“In the old legends, Saint George the dragon slayer was fighting a European menace. What do you have against a dragon of the East?”

“A dragon is a dragon. Where it comes from doesn’t matter to me.”

“How narrow-minded of you,” Mai said.

“And how like a dragon for you to say so. Grabbing the arrogant high horse and trying to control the conversation, and everything else. If it quacks like a duck… I ask you again, who or what tipped you off to my presence? You wouldn’t have found me if you hadn’t been looking.”

Mai smiled and began to walk toward Bourbon Street. George followed a pace behind. In this form he walked with a bit of a jaunty gait. Looking just a little like a cock rooster, as if he were looking for action.

“Funny, those vampires showing up tonight,” Mai said.

“Not as funny as you pretending to stumble so your little friend would not catch you slipping me the card,” George said.

Mai ignored his grin, and his gibe.

“Who tipped them off as to where to find their ‘moderator, ’ do you think?” she asked.

“I figure it had to have been fairly anonymous. Other than a quick tip over the phone, they should have been given at least a description of him, if not a picture,” he said.

“Very astute of you, but it doesn’t answer my question,” Mai said.

“And you did not answer mine…”

George trailed off as he saw her smile widen. I can’t believe I’m having to drop him this many tips, she thought. This is the terror of little dragons everywhere? She had to remember his skills leaned toward hunting and toying, not intrigue.

“Flynn hates vampires,” he said.

“Sort of puts him above suspicion, doesn’t it? Besides, who else is in town who might have done something to make me watchful for your presence?”

“Damn it, I knew I shouldn’t have left that card.”

George stopped and folded his arms over his chest. Mai leaned against one of the Quarter’s faux gas lamps. She kept her expression frozen, letting him come to his own conclusions.

“He really gets up my nose, that one does. Typical dragon, using even someone he hates because he can,” George said.

“Just because he has said he disliked vampires in the past, you think that means anything? Even if he was being honest, it would be much to his liking to put two enemies against each other,” Mai said.

“Which is, of course, exactly what you are trying to do,” George spat back.

Mai shrugged and waited.

“Very well,” George said finally. “If Flynn wants to play with vampires, it shouldn’t be too hard to get him stumbling over his own toys. But I’m doing this because it will irritate the overgrown set of matched luggage.”

Mai bowed her head without taking her eyes off his.

“It never entered my mind that you might be doing it for me.”

“Good. You won’t see me in the Irish pub again. Do not look for me elsewhere.”

“Why? Rumor had it you never hunted someone you didn’t have a contract on.”

“Unless I deem them a threat. Besides, so far I’m not truly hunting Flynn. But let us keep that between you and me.”

“Of course. If you’ll answer me one question.”

George paused again, considering.

“Depends on the question,” he said.

“I watched you in the pub, when you thought you were invisible. If a dragon is a dragon, why do your eyes seem to show you to be warming up to Griffen?”

He hesitated a beat too long, and Mai knew his answer would be a lie.

“All part of the disguise. I never assume no one is watching.”

With that he turned and, in an eyeblink, a large dog was running off into the night. Mai watched him go, extending her senses to the utmost to make as sure as possible that he didn’t circle around to follow her. When she could no longer perceive him even distantly, she started back to her apartment.