Dragons Luck

Now everyone was in motion.

Few panicked as most would, screaming or ru

Several, like Kane and Tail, stepped toward the fray. But braced as they were, something in their posture told Griffen they intended to go down fighting but knew they were going down.

The changelings exchanged a glance, and vanished.

Among the screams and shouts, Griffen could hear chanting. The vodoun and other human practitioners casting… something. He didn’t know and didn’t care what.

He was pushing through the people roughly, heedless of any damage he might do, intent on getting to Lizzy.

Val scrambled to her feet, but he knew he would reach Lizzy first this time.

But someone was already there, Lowell, and two other vampires. Whether they had just been close, or had come close to act, they leaned toward Lizzy, and Griffen could see them drinking her energy. A swirl of air, a press of heat, a taste of madness spread from her to them, and the strength of it had her down on one knee, shaking.

“Vampires… Dragons hanging out with… vampires?!” Lizzy said.

“Didn’t do your homework, did you? Ahhh… such despairing madness,” Lowell said, and for the first time he looked dangerous.

His eyes were a dark, smoky red. No other physical changes showed, but his shadow seemed to boil, as alive and moving as the fog on the floor.

Lizzy snarled and picked up a piece of debris from the fight, a table leg. She lunged forward and slammed it into Lowell’s chest. Lowell vanished.

The vampires’ co

And Lizzy moved as if her bones were liquid. Val’s fist cracked the marble floor, and Lizzy kicked her knees out from under her. There was a brief struggle, and their positions were reversed.

Lizzy straddled Val from behind and took Val’s head in her hands.

And Griffen yanked her off by her throat. His hand was a claw, his arm covered in thick scales. He could feel his tail thrashing behind him. Lizzy’s feet dangled high above the ground, kicking.

It had worked on George, but George wasn’t a dragon. Lizzy pried Griffen’s fingers free with strength that should have been impossible. She held his wrist in her hands, put a foot to his chest, and kicked, sending him tripping over his sister and flying through the air herself.

She landed gracefully several feet away and actually bowed.

“Oh, this is fun! None of you can stop me, no one can ever stop me! Screw it all, this is too much fun to stop! First one to die loses!”

Lizzy laughed, and for just a moment Griffen felt despair. It actually looked as if even he and Val couldn’t stop this lunatic dragon.

Then again, it wasn’t just Val and him.

“I can stop you.”

Lizzy turned, and so did everyone else. There was no one there, just a vague disturbance of the air. Then Hobb stood there, dropping whatever glamour the fey used to hide. Robin appeared as well, several feet behind him, fear plain on her face.

“You?! You?! How do you think you can stop Lizzy?”

“With this,” Hobb said.

He held up a small pocketknife.

Griffen expected her to laugh, she should have laughed. Instead, she looked insulted. Claws grew again at the ends of her fingers, and Griffen knew with a certainty the changeling had just committed suicide.

“With that, you would take a dragon with a letter opener? You are too stupid to live,” said Lizzy.

“Well, you would know all about that,” Hobb said.

He flicked open the blade, a plain, straight blade. He closed his eyes for a moment and drew the blade against his knuckles.

Blood welled over his fingers, and he clenched his hand into a fist.

Lizzy looked uncertain; she seemed fascinated by the dripping blood.

“What’s that for?”

“This.”

Hobb stepped forward, his face resolute and grim, and slammed his fist as hard as he could into her mouth. She didn’t move, didn’t bother blocking, just let him hit her.

It didn’t even move her head back, didn’t even split her lip. All the blood on her face was his. She ran a finger over her lips and sucked idly at the crimson smear.

“Well, that was cute, now if you don’t mind I’d like to kill you and get on with my—”

Lizzy took a dizzy step backward and almost fell over. “What did you—” she started to say, and almost fell again.

“Ms. Valerie, I would hit her now. I don’t know how long it will last with a dragon.” Hobb called out, stepping away from the staggering Lizzy.

Val didn’t question, she approached cautiously, just in case it was another act. She stopped as George called out to her.

“Start big, work up from there.”

He drew his sword, and it was obviously not a costume foil. He tossed it to her, and she plucked it from the air, staring at the still-dizzy dragon. Griffen wondered what good a sword was.

“Kill… must… kill,” Lizzy sputtered.

“Must I?” Val said.

She shoved the blade through Lizzy’s right eye.

Lizzy screamed and ripped the sword from Val’s hand, throwing it away. She struck out again, clumsily, and Val blocked it easily. Her next hit sent Lizzy to the ground, and this time Valerie didn’t hesitate, didn’t stop. At first it was still a fight, then just a beating, all of Val’s rage and frustration given a way to vent itself.

The crowd had gone still when Hobb had acted and went silent now. No one knew what to say.

Griffen saw a tear on his sister’s cheek, and even in the quiet only his acute hearing heard her whisper, “I suppose I must.”

Griffen saw her dig her hands around Lizzy’s throat. The other dragon was barely conscious, and blood flowed from more than just the ruined eye. Val started to squeeze.

“Val, stop, don’t do it!”

Val didn’t stop, but tears still flowed over her face.

“She won’t stop, Griffen. You have seen it. What other way?!”

“We will find one. You don’t have to be… like her.”

“I have to protect… everyone,” Val said.

“Actually… that’s more my job description.”

Griffen usually was tough to surprise, but the shocks he had received in the last few minutes had burned out his resistance. He stood with his mouth hanging. He knew that voice, and of all the people he did not expect tonight, this one was more surprising than Lizzy.

He was dressed as a ghost, if you can call a sheet with holes in it a costume. Everyone was pretty much looking puzzled at him, no one but Griffen and maybe Mai or Val recognizing just the voice. Few even recognized him when he pulled the sheet off, though most stiffened when they saw the revolver in his hand.

Detective Harrison looked happier than Griffen could remember seeing him ever before. A vice detective must always enjoy coming out from undercover.

“Ms. Valerie, most of what I’ve seen tonight has been self-defense. You don’t want to make my life hell by having to drag a pretty lady like you in for murder, do you?” Harrison said.

Val stared as openly as Griffen. Harrison idly waved with the revolver. Despite how little that must have meant to her just then, Griffen was relieved when his sister released Lizzy’s throat and stood up.

Lizzy smiled, her su

“Din’ wan kill you anyway…” she said hoarsely, blood bubbling from her lips. “Like… to be…’untie Lizzy.”

With that, she smiled brighter, and her remaining eye rolled up into her head. She passed out, though she kept breathing, ragged and slow.

Griffen filed what she’d said away for later.

“Detective Harrison—” Griffen started.

“Shove it, McCandles. You have a hell of a lot of explaining to do.”

Harrison looked around the room, and for a second his eyes seemed haunted. Even before the fight, he had to have seen many things that night, too many things.