Dragons Luck

Fifty

It was the night of the masquerade ball, and Griffen simply wasn’t in a party mood.

He sat alone in his apartment, fully aware that he was supposed to have been at the ball ten minutes before, helping with the final setup. Griffen had insisted that he should help, even though Estella had assured him everything was covered. That was all before Slim’s death.

Griffen had given his word, as unnecessary as it might have been, and now had broken it. Such a small thing. As if anyone really cared whether or not he helped hang a few streamers or carried a punch bowl. Yet he couldn’t help thinking about it. If only because it kept him from thinking of heavier issues.

No one had heard anything about the garou since they had taken off that afternoon. It seemed impossible that a pack of wolves on two legs could stomp around such a small area as the Quarter without anyone noticing, but that was exactly what they were doing. Either Griffen had underestimated them, or Tammy was helping with more than just tracking. The changelings were supposed to be good at hiding.

The other shifters had all been seen. They had been poking around the Riverwalk and the Irish pub, and had been wandering around the Canal Place shopping center last he had heard. They seemed harmless, and Griffen doubted they would be any help at all.

Harrison also had apparently dropped off the radar, but then that was normal for the detective. Griffen knew the deadline Harrison had given him was almost up, but didn’t know what to do. Their next talk would most likely be happening in a police-station interrogation room.

All in all, Griffen felt helpless. What did he know of murder investigations? Less than he knew about running a conclave, and look at the mess he’d made of that. He couldn’t even bring himself to attend the last event.

So he sat. Wearing a well-cut suit that he had last worn to a funeral. He didn’t even have a mask. Ridiculous; every other shop in New Orleans had masks. From Chinese knock-offs to local-made pieces so elaborate they were a form of art. Griffen hadn’t even bothered looking for one.

There was a knock at his door.

Griffen turned, about to tell whoever it was to leave. His words died as the door opened. As did his thoughts. His brain shut down for a few minutes. Proving that, dragon or not, he was still male.

Mai stood in the doorway, dressed like Griffen had never seen before. The basic style was an oriental dress. An embroidered collar at her throat gave way to an oval cut from the fabric, showing off some of her… assets. Slits up to the hip revealed legs Griffen knew weren’t as long as they now seemed. What made the effect more startling was that the dress, skintight and hugging every curve it didn’t expose, seemed to be made of black, iridescent snakeskin. Scales glistened in sharp contrast with her skin, highlights rippling and shifting with every breath.

A slim matching mask somehow emphasized her eyes, making them seem to smolder. Her hair was piled into an elaborate shape with long, sharp chopsticks protruding, and her nails were nearly three inches long.

Dragon Lady.

Those two words were the first coherent thoughts Griffen had after her entrance. From the way her eyes darkened and her lips twitched, Griffen knew she had caught his reaction and enjoyed it. He mentally shook himself and got to his feet.

“You were supposed to pick me up,” Mai said.

Her voice matched her outfit. Dark, entrancing, dangerous. Griffen had to drop into his poker face. He had never seen her slip into a role like this, and the combined effect was… powerful.

“I was?” he asked, honestly puzzled.

“Yes, but you didn’t know it,” Mai said. “You didn’t give any thought at all to bringing a date to the dance, did you?”

Griffen would have smacked himself if he hadn’t already stepped up his self-control. Of all the stupid things, and it didn’t even occur to him. Of course he had been busy. He didn’t have a clue what sort of messages he would have sent showing up to the masquerade ball alone.

He shrugged it off with a laugh. It sounded only a little forced.

“I didn’t even remember to get a mask,” he said.

“I thought not, lover.”

Mai bit her bottom lip, eyes lighting up with what Griffen could only interpret as mischief. Her hand moved slowly, drawing Griffen’s eye with it, as she reached through the hole in her dress. Those long, sharp nails actually left the faintest of lines across her skin as they dove beneath the neckline. He was unsurprised, but greatly disappointed, when her fingers came back out. They held a masculine version of her own mask in dark, glittering snakeskin.

Someday, Griffen thought, I’m going to have to worry about just how well she can push my buttons.

“I, uh… I don’t remember inviting you,” Griffen said.

“You would have if you thought of it. I assure you.”

“Look, Mai, I’m not even sure I’m…”

“Going. I know, lover.”

Mai smiled, then laughed. It was a full, throaty laugh. Suddenly, without any perceptible change in posture or attitude, she became her old self. Or at least, the one Griffen knew. Her tone and attitude were back to normal, excited, energetic, playful.

“Oh, that was fun. You are such an easy mark sometimes, Griffen. And the party is going to be fun, too. You have no idea how much I’m looking forward to this!”

Griffen felt his cheeks flush. Easy mark, was he? He was getting ready to tell her to leave when she stepped forward. Dragon Lady attitude or not, she wore that dress well, and he found himself trying to track the play of light along the scales.

“Fun? I can’t see how it can be anything but a complete bomb.”

“Because you have no idea what to expect. Believe me, you have no idea how rare mixed parties of this scale are. I’ve only been to two before, and those were much smaller. I think the only reason this fool conclave got started was to have an excuse for the ball at the end of it.”

Mai moved up to him, close enough to press against him but stopping just shy of that. She stood up on her tiptoes, half-draping her arms around his neck as she slid the mask onto his face. She leaned her face up, lips close to his, whispering as she tied the mask.

“A little death isn’t going to get in the way of that. In fact, if there is any place to go to forget such things, it is there. It’s not your dark apartment, all alone except for your brooding.”

Despite himself, the flirting was lifting Griffen’s spirits.

“You are just saying that because they won’t let you in without me,” he said.

“They are awfully nervous about party-crashing dragons. Besides it’s more fun to crash on the arm of the one man no one is going to argue with. Like going to a film premiere with the director.”

She closed the last half inch of distance and kissed him. The scales of the dress felt warm and almost alive under his hands. Her teeth pulled lightly at the bottom of his lip.

“Please?” she said, not quite letting him go.

“Welllll…” he said, drawing it out as much as he could.

It was amazing how quick one’s mood could change. With the right motivation.

“Besides, aren’t you dying to see if your little sister actually shows up with the dragon hunter?” Mai said. “Enemies dancing together in polite society, making small talk in a potentially hostile environment. Won’t it be fun to see them watch one another’s backs?”

“Somehow I knew you would know about that. And you’re right, damn it.”

Valerie had been worried about something; maybe George stepped on people’s feet literally as well as figuratively.

Mai grinned and slipped out of Griffen’s grip. For a moment, she looked like a child who had just gotten the present she wanted. She even took a little spin before taking one of Griffen’s hands in both of hers.

“Come on, then. If we leave now, we can be almost perfectly fashionably late,” Mai said.

Griffen let himself be drawn out the door, mostly because it was the first chance he had gotten to see the back of her dress. From the back of the collar down, laces crisscrossed over an exposed spine almost to her tailbone. Definitely not a traditional oriental element.

He half realized that he was beginning to look forward to the night.

The other half of him thought that getting his hopes up was probably very unwise.