Dragons Luck

Especially since, for a split second before the car launched at her, that weight on her heart, that tiny bit of warning she had been trying to pass off as imagination, had throbbed. It had all happened too fast to be a merely human reaction, but she knew.

She knew she had started to move just before the car did.

Eighteen

Tuesday night and nothing to do.

Griffen sat alone in the Irish pub. It was rare, the pub being so empty. Especially at night. Yet here it was, 10:00 p.m. and he and the bartender were the only occupants. They had both agreed on a Hammer horror-movie fest on one of the movie cha

He was saved when the door opened and Fly

Then silence descended again.

Griffen bristled as Fly

It wasn’t till Fly

Well, almost no way; this was the Quarter after all. Ghosts and voodoo were common enough. Still, Fly

“Hey, Fly

Fly

“Well… how about we make things interesting?” Fly

The bartender stepped up to them.

“Legally, I can’t allow any betting in the bar,” the bartender said. Then he looked around at the emptiness and shrugged, smiling easily. “So keep your money in your pockets and settle up outside, and if anyone comes in, keep your traps shut.”

Griffen nodded his thanks and walked over to the back table. A bit of etiquette he had picked up since coming down to New Orleans. At least in a bar like this one, with two pool tables. If both tables were open, and you chose to shoot on the table closest to the bar, it was an invite for the bartender and anyone sitting there to feel free to watch and comment. If you went to the far table, people, bartenders especially, tended to give you your privacy.

Fly

“Five thousand a game good stakes?” Fly

Griffen paused with a ball in his hand. He felt like shaking his head to clear his ears, sure he’d heard wrong, and looked up to find Fly

“If you don’t feel the pinch, what’s the point of playing?” Fly

“More than stings,” Griffen said, suddenly a lot more wary.

“I did say we should make it interesting. If you lose, put it down on your taxes as consultant fees.”

Griffen realized that this was more than to make the game worthwhile. Fly

“Well… all right, but I’m using my stick.”

“Fair enough. I would if I had packed one.”

Fly

“Straight or French Quarter League rules?” Fly

“You know the local league rules?”

“But of course; the ball and hand is a very interesting twist for a position player. You didn’t think this was my first trip to New Orleans, did you?”

“Straight, please,” Griffen said. He had just begun to pick up the league rules and wasn’t confident enough yet to risk it.

“Drop the ‘please.’ You really need to learn to throw your weight around more,” Fly

“Still not sure how much control a moderator has or is supposed to have.”

“It’s always better to be in control. And it’s always easier to start from a position of control and power than to try to scramble for one when you need it.”

“Yeah but—”

Griffen got cut off as Fly

The eight went in the pocket.

Griffen stood there, stu

“Another?” Fly

Griffen had seen eights sink on the break before. It took both skill and luck, and was something he had never pulled off before. It wasn’t usually repeatable. Usually.

“See,” Fly

Griffen nodded and began to rack again.

“And what’s to keep them from seeing you as a bully?” Griffen said.

“Why should you care? Beyond it doesn’t matter how they see you. If bullying is what it takes to get the job done, why look for a weaker tool?”

Griffen didn’t have an answer but didn’t like the question. Fly

“Why would the other groups out there be so worried about a dragon trying to take them over?” Griffen said.

“They are afraid. Fear makes them stupid. They know dragons could rule if we chose to, and don’t think to ask why we should bother,” Fly

“You really see them as that much less?”

Griffen had a three-ball run, then missed. Fly

“Why wouldn’t I? Shifters, spooks, spell slingers. They don’t have anything we don’t have, and none of them have our power or variety.”

“But within their own sphere aren’t they stronger? Can you take all the different animal forms a chimera can?” Griffen said.

Fly

“No, but then I never really got into shape-shifting. I like myself as I am.”

“What about the fairies, the changelings? I haven’t heard about what they can and can’t do.”

“They are letting those nuts in this year? I didn’t know their standards had gotten that lax. Those aren’t fairies, not really. Oh, they claim they are part of them, but have no proof. In fact, I’ve never seen or heard of any real evidence there are fairies,” Fly

Griffen was down to the eight, but the shot was lousy. A bank into the side pocket was his best bet. He missed.

“Okay, the changelings, then. What can they do?”

“Well… okay, you’ve got me on that one. From what I’ve heard on rumor, they have a wide range of powers, but each one has its own unique gifts and styles. Only no one has any proof on whether the stuff is real or some form of hypnosis or illusion. You know the old legends of fairy gold turning to trash in the morning? Same deal. The effects don’t often seem to last.”