Dragons Wild gm-1

by Robert Asprin

  Unfortunately, that meant she needed to get some eggs. Like so many people visiting and living in the area, her fridge held very little in the way of supplies. A few leftovers, some soda and favorite snacks, and a bottle of good wine, because one never knows when it could come in handy.

  So, she stopped at the local A&P, the closest thing to a proper grocery, just a few doors down from Yo Mama’s. As she approached, she saw some of the average early morning crowd on the street. A drunk passed out in a doorway, a few musicians and street performers resting against a building and sharing a cigarette, and a few shopkeepers in the process of hosing down the sidewalk and opening up their fronts. There always seemed to be more people who hadn’t gone to bed yet than there were early risers.

  She was just about to enter the store when she caught the rank smell of too many cocktails and not enough bathing. She started to turn abruptly, but before she could finish found a hand palming her rump. Valerie stiffened, letting out a hiss that was as much rage as shock, and finished her turn.

  “Hey, baaaaby.”

  The man before her was dressed in filthy jeans and a shirt that seemed more a collection of stains than actual cloth. His matted hair and almost black fingernails would have suggested he was homeless, but his shoes and watch were both high quality. All this was a secondary observation to Valerie. First was the fact that even facing him he was trying to maintain his balance and his grip on her behind.

  Valerie grabbed the man’s wrist and jerked hard enough to fling him into the wall. He stumbled and cracked his face against the brick, long scratches embedding in his cheek. Whirling, back to the wall and braced, he jerked out a knife that even Valerie knew was substandard. A little pocket knife that probably couldn’t open an envelope.

  “I am not your baby,” she said.

  “Bitch, I kill you for that!”

  “Baby, no. Bitch. I can do that.”

  She reached out as if to grab the knife, and he slashed at her hand. While he was focused solely on the weapon, she took a half step forward, and slammed her other foot into his crotch. He sank to the ground, eyes shut and groaning. She ripped the knife out of his hand blade first, reversed it, and pressed it under his nose. His eyes popped wide again.

  Which was, of course, when two police officers stepped out of the A&P with a bag of groceries.

  “Now, there’s something you don’t see every day,” one said, looking at the man on the ground with Valerie standing over him with a knife.

  “Miss, could you drop the blade! Now!” said the other, one hand resting on the butt of his gun.

  Valerie did as she was told, and stepped away from him. The man gratefully shut his eyes again and rolled into a ball. The police stepped forward, guns still in holsters but clearly ready to clear the leather.

  “Whoa, whoa. You best be holdin’ it.”

  The officers and Valerie glanced to the side, and one of the street performers had stood up and was striding across the street to join them. He was a tall, thin man with very dark skin and very white clothes. Bleached so well they practically shone. The police saw his approach, and actually relaxed marginally. One nodded his way.

  “Slim, you see what happened?” the officer said.

  “Sure did. Dude saw Ms. Valerie here looking all fine in her workout clothes and then forgot everything he ever did know about manners. When she reminded him, he thought he would cut her for the trouble.”

  The two officers looked from Slim to the man and woman. Valerie, tall, attractive, and in sweat-stained but otherwise clean apparel. The other, filthy, dirty, and obviously still drunk. They nodded to each other and relaxed more fully.

  “Ma’am, do you want us to run him in? The little weasel might try to push for assault, but I doubt it.”

  Valerie caught Slim’s shake of a head out of the corner of her eye.

  “No, that’s all right. I got mine in,” she said.

  “That you surely did.”

  The officers shared a grin, and picked up their forgotten groceries. Valerie and Slim watched them head around the corner and out of sight.

  “Thanks, Ms. Valerie. I knows this idiot, and the last thing he needs is more trouble with the po-leece. We both owe you,” Slim said.

  “You’re welcome, but how come you seem to know me so well?”

  “Ah, well, to answer that…”

  Slim bent down and picked up the knife, looking over it with an expression of disgust. He shrugged, and pressed it against the downed man’s belly. The drunk gave a pathetic squeak, and tried to curl tighter into himself.

  “You open your eyes right now!” Slim said. “Right now, I say. Good. You think you seen some tourist babe fresh from the hotel and you’d have some fun. Right? Well, I gots news for you, son. This here is Griffen McCandles’s sister you tried pawing.”

  The man’s eyes shot wider still as he looked from Slim to Valerie. He tried to blubber an apology, but his words still would not come. Slim nodded and straightened up, and without looking chucked the knife squarely into the nearest trash can.

  “That should take care of things. Good morning to you, Ms. Valerie.” Slim nodded and sauntered away, and Valerie stood watching him go. A mixture of emotions warred through her, holding her in her spot. By the time he was gone, her eyes had narrowed dangerously. She started to leave, turned back, and kicked the man once more in the stomach, then stomped off.

  The other performers cheered from their perch across the street.

  Twenty-seven

  Once in a while, everyone needs advice.

  Valerie found herself pacing back and forth in Mose’s living room, which wasn’t really large enough for her stride. After about four steps, she had to turn and start back the other way. Mose watched her progress and leaned back in his chair, seemingly completely relaxed. It was a good act, considering her nervous energy had him practically twitching. Being in tight quarters with an agitated female dragon was something he had learned from long experience to avoid. He was thinking that he either needed to calm her down or jump out the window and seek cover.

  “What am I doing here?” Valerie said.

  “Well, not to put too fine a point on it, but I was about to ask the same thing,” Mose said.

  She waved off his comment with an impatient gesture.

  “Oh, I didn’t mean here, Mose. I meant here!”

  “Thank you for clearing that up.”

  Valerie drew her self up sharply, but saw his twinkling eyes and the laughter lines on his face start to deepen. With an exasperated sigh she folded herself into a chair. Sitting stiff backed and wire tight, she seemed to tower over Mose’s relaxed form. Her expression, however, had relaxed marginally, and she clasped her hands in her lap to keep them from fidgeting.

  “I’m not making much sense am I?”

  “Well now, I wouldn’t go that far. Let me take a guess.”

  Mose steepled his fingers and looked over Valerie closely. She didn’t realize some of the changes that showed in her. Her strength and natural confidence had grown, as had her pride. Though she hadn’t changed dress habits as drastically as her brother, what she wore began to cling to her differently as she began to hold herself differently. More noticeably, though, she had a new light burning in her eye, that even with Mose’s long experience he couldn’t quite place.

  He looked over her long enough, that she felt like getting up and pacing again. Finally he opened his hands wide and spoke.

  “You meant here as in New Orleans. Big Brother Dragon has been changing and growing and coming into his own, and you’re wondering where yours is. Feeling restless.”

  “More like useless. I came down here to protect Grifter, even if he thinks it was his idea to protect me.”

  “And you’ve been doing a fine job at it by my reckoning.”

  In a flash she was up on her feet again and Mose fought a reaction to wince. She tried to pace, gave up on it, and contented herself to lean against the back of the chair. Her hands gripped it so h
ard it creaked, but she didn’t seem to notice.

  “Fine! How do you figure fine! I haven’t done a single thing, and he’s got his other protectors now.”

  “Jealous?”

  Mose braced himself, but it was a necessary risk. Instead of another outburst, Valerie looked shocked, and with the shock came serious consideration. She sighed and leaned more against the chair, folding her elbows under her to brace herself.

  “Oh, hell, I can’t be. It’s good that he’s got things working so well. It’s only; I don’t seem to have a place in it right now. Grifter doesn’t even realize that we are seeing each other less and less each week, and he doesn’t even think to ask what I’ve been up to in between.”

  “Which brings up a damn fine question. What have you been up to? More to the point, what got you so agitated that you found yourself at my door?”

  “Er…”

  “Are you blushing?”

  “No! Of course not.”

  She turned away from him, and as a gentleman, Mose discreetly looked out the window. After several moments passed, she spoke again. This time her voice was softer than he had ever heard from her, and more than a little lost.

  “Let’s just say I’m not used to being saved in my brother’s name. It should be the other way around.”

  “Ah. Now you are being a silly little girl.”

  “WHAT!?”

  Now she really did tower over Mose, seeming to have swelled several inches. Her already well-defined muscles strained in tension, and Mose had to quell his imagination. For just an instant, it had felt much warmer in the room. As if a blast of heat had come out of her mouth with the exclamation.

  “I’m sorry, did I say ‘little girl’? That was wrong of me.”

  Mose watched carefully as she seemed to deflate, and carefully kept his tone mild and bland.

  “No, it’s usually the boys that have such easily bruised egos. The insecure, overly macho ones at that. Surely you don’t have anything in common with that sort; do you, dear?”

  “Okay, no need to rub it in. Make your point.”

  “First, sit down. And try to relax a bit. You’re impressive enough without having to try and intimidate an old man.”

  “I wasn’t trying—”

  “Sit!”

  Valerie found herself sitting without realizing it, and looking deep into Mose’s eyes. They flashed in a manner she hadn’t seen before, and his relaxed pose was gone. Now he was straight and tall, and seemed filled with strength that normally lay quiet and dormant in him. He made sure he had her attention, then leaned back again, not quite going as relaxed as before.

  “Now it’s my turn to talk and yours to listen. Okay?”

  He waited for her to nod and gave one in return. As he spoke, he ticked points off on his fingers.

  “First of all, you don’t know what a mark you have made here. And not just because you are Griffen’s sister. I bet there isn’t a doorman, shill, or bartender who doesn’t nod to you when you walk by. And considering from what I’ve heard you haven’t been spending most of your time in their establishments. But you are known just the same.”

  “What do you mean you’ve heard?”

  “And that’s the second thing. If you haven’t figured out by now that everyone talks about everybody in this town, you aren’t as smart as I know you are. Big Brother doesn’t ask after you? That’s because if anything goes wrong, you can bet he would hear about it in twenty minutes flat. Good news takes longer, and gets a bit more respect privacy wise, but that filters in, too.”

  Mose held up a finger as she began to interrupt again. She shut her mouth sharply.

  “Third, none of that matters. If you think you aren’t keeping Griffen safe, you’re underrating yourself. And I don’t just mean like with Gris-gris.”

  He sighed and shook his head, then stood and walked over to a small bureau. After a few clinking sounds, he walked back over to Valerie and handed her a glass filled with rich brandy. He sat again, cradling his own glass and took a long sip.

  “In some ways, you’ve got it a lot harder than he does, Valerie. You’ve got a tighter line to walk. You wonder what you are doing in New Orleans, and how that helps your brother. Well, I’ll tell you, you are keeping him safe, by being safe yourself. Wouldn’t be the first damn time a dragon went through family to manipulate or hurt another one. Not to mention in some circles you would be considered a prize and target on your own merits. Here, he knows you’re safe, and you know you’re keeping him likewise.”

  He took another sip and this time she joined him, rolling the amber fluid around in her mouth thoughtfully.

  “See, the thing is, the more active you are in his operations, the more danger you put yourself in. I know that isn’t easy to accept, but you really have to balance out how much you are helping him in the long run, by sticking your neck out in the short. And if you went anywhere else, he’d have his attention divided, and as good as he seems to be adapting that would be downright deadly.”

  Silently, Mose pondered that those were exactly the reasons he was glad Griffen hadn’t told her about the most direct threat to him. What help she could offer would be outweighed by his own worry.

  “I think I understand,” she said, and leaned back in her chair, thinking over and over his words.

  “If you don’t, you will. I want you to think hard about it, and we’ll talk again. The best thing you can do is live your life, well and happy. ’Cause you are the boy’s joy and hope, and if something happened to you, everything we’ve been working to build would crumble to the winds.”

  Valerie rose wordlessly and set her empty glass on the table. She looked over Mose thoughtfully, and leaned down and kissed his cheek. As she turned and walked out he watched her very carefully, and at least part of his attention was on just how nice a sight he was watching. He chuckled to himself as the door closed and shook his head.

  “Mose, you’re getting too damn old for those kind of thoughts,” he said to himself, and rose to pour another drink.

  He was doubly glad now that he had advised Griffen to keep his sister in the dark about the George.

  Twenty-eight

  As soon as Griffen rolled into Yo Mama’s, Padre caught his eye and jerked a head toward the back booths. Detective Harrison was already there, nursing a cup of coffee and studiously ignoring the other customers.

  Griffen briefly considered reversing his course and easing back out, but it was too late. Harrison had already seen him and beckoned to him with a small motion of his hand.

  Heaving a silent, inward sigh, Griffen complied. He really wasn’t feeling up to dealing with the detective tonight, but it seemed he didn’t have much choice.

  “Okay, McCandles,” Harrison said without preamble. “I think we’ve gotta plan here. I’ve been talking to a couple a boys down at the precinct, and they’re willing to give a hand. Lucky for you they don’t like the Feds any more than I do.”

  “Okay. Lieutenant.” Griffen nodded. “You have my undivided attention.”

  The detective glanced around, then slid a slip of paper across the table.

  “That’s my own cell phone number,” he explained. “When you spot one of these jokers following you, give me a call with the location and a description. I’ll relay it on to whoever’s closest, and we’ll handle it from there.”

  “Wait a minute,” Griffen said. “I have to call you? How am I supposed to spot these guys? They’re professionals. I don’t know anything about tailing people or how to spot someone following me.”

  “It’s not all that hard.” Harrison shrugged. “It’s actually pretty hard to tail someone if they’re watching for it. Ask your buddy Padre there for a few pointers. He used to be a private investigator. I’m more worried about what we’re going to do with them once we catch them. I mean, we can always find some reason for bracing them, but unless they declare themselves to be federal agents, it might be tough to tell them from some of our homegrown muggers.”

 
“I might be able to help you there.” Griffen dug into his pocket and produced his own cell phone. “Remember I told you I talked with Stoner? Well, before he walked up on me, he called me on his cell phone. That means I’ve got his number.”

  “Okay. What does that get us?” the detective said.

  “Well, I figure these people watching me have to report in somehow, and it’s my guess they’re using cell phones themselves. When you stop them, see if they have Stoner’s number in their directory. Even if they don’t, there should be one central number they all have to report to.”

  “That could work,” Harrison said. “Not bad, McCandles. Well, let’s see what we turn up in a week.”

  He rose to leave, then hesitated.

  “I know I’ve asked this before, Grifter,” he said, “but do you have any idea why this Stoner guy has it in for you? I mean, this whole terrorist thing stinks on ice. What’s his real problem?”

  “You wouldn’t believe it if I told you,” Griffen said with a smirk.

  “Try me.”

  Griffen looked at him levelly for a moment, then shrugged.

  “The way it was explained to me,” he said carefully, “Stoner is a dragon. As such he collects power and has done a pretty good job so far. The problem is, he has it in his head that I’m a dragon, too, and am just coming of age. He’s afraid that I may be more powerful than he is, so he’s having me watched and tracked in case I become a threat. I try not to think about what he would or could do if he decided I was dangerous.”

  Harrison stared at him.

  “This is a joke, right?”

  Griffen leaned forward and blew gently on the detective’s now cold cup of coffee. A small column of steam rose from the cup. He looked at it, then back at Harrison.

  “I know,” he said. “I have trouble taking it seriously myself.”

  “I didn’t know you had been a private eye,” Griffen said.

  He was still finding that a little hard to believe. Even though he was getting used to the idea that almost everyone he met in the Quarter had a story behind them, Padre just didn’t seem the private-eye type. He was in his mid to late forties with longish hair pulled back in a ponytail. It had some streaks of gray, as did his mustache and goatee, and combined with his thin, wire-frame glasses, he looked more like a hippie than like anyone vaguely connected with the establishment.