Dragons Luck

“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.

“Fu

“Not as fu

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.

“Fly

“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 Fly

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 Fly

“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 ru

“Well, that’s him aimed properly, then,” she said to herself.

About a block away she paused and clenched her fists as a wave of frustration passed through her.

“And one day, I’ll figure out how the damned chimeras don’t ruin their clothes in a shift. All the bloody designer outfits I’ve shredded over the years… gah!”

Mai stomped the minor frustration off, and by the time she reached her apartment she was once again basking in a job well-done.

Twenty-five

Griffen had picked up a tail.

Thankfully, this time it wasn’t of the green, scaly variety. That had only happened a few times, and always unexpectedly. Being followed, however, that was becoming far too common for his liking. Since moving to New Orleans, he had been followed by everything from federal agents to a cockroach. Not that he was entirely sure there was a great gap between the two.

This was different, though. Even when Homeland Security had been keeping an eye on him thanks to the interference of a dragon named Stoner, Griffen had been able to identify his watchers with only a bit of effort. This time, try as he might, he had yet to catch a glimpse of whoever, or whatever, was following him. He just knew they were there. It was as if he could feel eyes always on him.

Whoever his tail was, they were disturbingly good.

He had first noticed it early that afternoon. He had gone out a little early to check his public mailbox on Royal Street. There hadn’t been anything interesting, and when he came out, he first picked up the “watched” sensation. Looking around, he saw no people paying him attention nor any cockroaches or big shaggy dogs.

Griffen was learning more and more to listen to his instincts and senses. Though he grew increasingly sure he was being watched, he didn’t really feel any sense of threat. To play it safe, instead of going home as he pla

His new stalker followed, Griffen was sure of that, but again he couldn’t catch sight of them. He picked up a few DVDs he had been wanting anyway and thought about some of Padre’s advice concerning tails. One line particularly came to mind—change your routine. So where Griffen normally would have taken a right on Chartres and gone down to his place, he went left and popped into a two-story bookstore that he was fond of.

Griffen thought maybe if anyone followed him in, he could catch them in the stacks. He waited and listened, but no one came in. Not once did the bell over the door chime. And still he felt someone was watching, as if someone were right behind him, breathing down his neck.

A bit nervous now, he touched the beads around his neck, the ones given to him by Rose. He was begi

Without really thinking about it, Griffen pulled a small book off the shelf and went to the counter. He hated leaving a place without buying something, and he wanted to maintain an illusion of a fairly normal round of shopping. Just in case his pursuer hadn’t yet realized that Griffen had noticed them.

By now Griffen was more than a little edgy. He really didn’t like the constant attention and intrusions that he had been forced to accept since learning of dragons. Keeping his route different from his usual, he headed over to Royal. He picked up his pace, hoping to force his watcher to do the same. Then he abruptly ducked into Pirates Alley, a narrow walkway leading to Jackson Square.