Robert Asprin's Dragons Run (12 page)

The
tiny Asian woman leaped over the head of the bulky, pasty-faced male enforcer and clung to the peeling brick wall with her claws. Her long, straight, black hair had been pulled out of its neat chignon into frantic strands. Mai hated Melinda for making her ruin her manicure and her hairdo. The other enforcer, a taller, leaner male with a shock of brilliant orange hair, leaped to grab her ankle. She scrambled up a few feet and kicked at his face. He dodged, but she caught him in the cheek. He hissed.

Only yards away, outside the mouth of the alley, thousands of New Yorkers weaved their way down the sidewalk, heading toward the subway to go home, that five o’clock look on their faces. The businesspeople, male and female, wore suits. The fashionistas wore designer labels. Those who wanted to be thought “in the know” wore black. Mai hoped one of them would stumble her way, perhaps to indulge in a little freelance mugging, and alarm her would-be assailants long enough for her to escape over the rooftops.

“What an unexpected gift,” Melinda said, watching the battle from the entryway. She was a short, dumpy woman with nondescript brown permanent-waved hair, obviously dyed. Mai suspected it had long ago gone to gray. Melinda was too vain to let her age show. Those pointed Jimmy Choo heels she had on were far too young for her. If there was any justice, though Mai had long ago given up believing in justice, she hoped they hurt like hell. “Giving me a chance to kill you in decent privacy.”

“If we were in Chinatown, you’d be the one up here,” Mai growled.

“I am never foolish enough to go there,” Melinda said, examining her nails. She buffed a red-painted forefinger on the sleeve of her coat. “Not without a sufficient escort. Something you should have kept in mind, dear. But it won’t trouble you for long.”

That’s what you think,
Mai thought, edging sideways toward a fire escape. Redhead clambered up the wall after her like a spider. Below them, Blocky sidled between the Dumpsters, keeping his eyes on them. Mai searched for an advantage. She had no fear of losing her grip. New York buildings were easier to scale than climbing walls in the gym. Their ancient brickwork, pipes, conduits, and rainspouts were such good handholds, she wondered that there weren’t more burglaries. She admitted she had an advantage with her dragon strength and natural claws. A pity it was still daylight. In the dark, she could effect a full transformation and flit away on spread wings.

Bundles of black coaxial cables snaked up the side of the building she was climbing. Redhead was close behind. Hiding the cables from view with her body, Mai slit them with her talon. He should get enough of an electric shock to distract him.

Instead, she heard a bellow through a window.

“Goddammit, the cable just went out!”

“Call the super,” a female voice shouted back. “This is the fifth time this month!”

Mai glanced over her shoulder. Her pursuer grinned at her. All right, so electronics weren’t her long suit.

“Hurry up and finish her, Dean,” Melinda said. “I have a dinner date.”

“Take your time, Dean,” Mai said, in a mocking tone. “She could stand to miss a couple of meals.”

Mai was more worried than she sounded. The truth was, she couldn’t afford to be caught. None of her people, the Eastern dragons, knew she was in town. They all thought she was still in New Orleans, where she was assigned. Her honored head of the family was already angry with Mai for failing to bring Griffen McCandles under their control. She had already had over a year to do it. The task wasn’t as easy as she had first thought it would be, and it was growing more difficult all the time. Griffen was learning wisdom in that place, something he had shown little sign of gaining back in college. In spite of herself, Mai was impressed with his progress. She was fond of him, but clan loyalty was stronger than her individual wishes. Not to mention that if she wanted to continue to live on the very generous allowance she received, she would have to do what she was told. If she did not succeed soon, she would be superseded by another dragon, or team of dragons.

She had run into another snag that prevented her from taking more drastic action. Griffen’s sister, Val, had become dear to her. She had never dreamed such a thing was possible. In all her long years, and Griffen would never learn the true total from her lips, she had yet to make a real friend. Val had reached out to her, offered her trust, and saved her life even at the risk of her own.

In all her long years, no one else had ever done that for Mai, not without expectations in return. Val had done it because that was what friends do. Mai was suspicious of such openness. In her experience, vulnerability equated with death. But she liked it. She had come to care for Val, and she felt innately protective of her.

When Val had disappeared Mardi Gras evening, only one person could have been responsible: Melinda. Mai sought for witnesses who could tell her where the elder dragon had gone. It had taken bribery, threats, cajoling, and some honest detective work, but she trailed Melinda and her minions to the Big Apple.

To her dismay, Mai had not yet found a trace of Val. She wasn’t staying in the extremely expensive suite in the Trump Towers with Melinda and Melinda’s insane daughter, Lizzy. Val was not resident in any of the other suites nor in any other hostelry close by. A
very
nice young man in the New York public records office had checked for her, and Melinda owned no private homes in the five boroughs, at least under that name. Mai was reduced to tailing the other dragon through the city like a gumshoe.

Evidently, electronics was not her only short suit.

“You followed us like an elephant trampling through Bubble Wrap for the last week,” Melinda taunted her, as she dodged and swung through the alley like it was a filthy jungle gym. “You couldn’t have been more obvious if you had brought Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade with you. I cannot imagine what makes you dog my footsteps like that. If you want to know where I’m going, just ask me. I would be delighted to tell you personally, to your face, to go jump in a volcano.”

Mai bounded off the top of a Dumpster and grabbed for a rung of the fire-escape ladder. With a loud screech, it slid downward, taking her with it. The hair on the back of her neck stood straight out with fear. She let go of the rusty metal and dropped to the alley floor. More swiftly than she would have believed, Blocky closed the distance between them. He grabbed her around the body, trapping her arms at her side. She kicked for his crotch. He shifted her so both her legs were beside his hip, leaving her feet flailing at air. He grinned in her face. Mai hissed. Headbutting him would hurt. Instead, she bit him hard on the nose. He bellowed and squeezed his eyes shut.

Dragon skin, at least that belonging to those of nearly pure blood, was known to be impenetrable to anything on Earth. That is, with one exception: dragon teeth. Otherwise, a baby dragon’s fangs would remain helplessly beneath the surface of its gums. It takes time for teeth to erupt, but they can and do work their way through the tough epidermis. Mai couldn’t bite his nose off, but she was pleased to see that she had drawn blood.

He lost focus, and his grip slackened. Mai didn’t wait for a second chance. She slithered downward, out of his arms. Redhead saw her move and went for her. Mai tumbled in a backward somersault on the sticky pavement, coming up on her feet. She sprang. She kicked off against an empty Dumpster. Before the metal receptacle finished ringing, Mai had her arms around Melinda’s neck. She towed the elder dragon backward into the confined space between two Dumpsters. The enforcer dashed toward them.

“Back off!” Mai ordered Redhead. He windmilled to a stop.

“Don’t be silly!” Melinda gasped. “Kill her before she kills me!”

“I’m not in the mood for this, Melinda,” Mai said in her ear. “Today is your lucky day.”

“What? What do you want?”

“A life for a life.”

“Whose?”

“Yours for Valerie McCandles. Where is she?”

“Why is she any concern of yours?”

“She’s my friend.”

“Really.” Melinda turned her head in Mai’s grip to look her in the eye. “You? You have friends?”

Mai swallowed. It was a weakness. She was not accustomed to admitting to any. She had made an error. She kept her face as impassive as possible. A fellow Eastern dragon would have seen through her façade, but no ordinary dragon would have seen any emotional response whatsoever. She made her tone austere.

“We have our reasons for wanting to know her location. They may be similar to yours.”

Melinda was under no such restraint on her feelings. Steam came out of her nostrils and ears. “You won’t get her, Mai.”

“So you do have her! Every dragon in the world knows you’re expecting a grandchild. Of course you want to make sure it comes into your hands when it is born. But we doubt Val’s safety. I need to see her.”

“The Eastern dragons have no business with my grandchild!” Melinda said. “Strangle me if you can. I’ll never tell you where they are.”

Mai thought about it for a moment. She could snap the elder dragon’s neck. She had killed before.

“So be it,” she said. She tightened her grip.

Horrified, Blocky and Redhead hovered a few feet away, looking for an angle to attack, but she was too well protected in her niche. With a tremendous shove, she pushed Melinda forward. The elder dragon stumbled on her narrow shoes. The two enforcers rushed to keep their employer from hitting the ground. In that split second, Mai grabbed the handle of one Dumpster, pulled herself up, and scrambled up the nearest drainpipe. In seconds, she was on the roof.

Before she started running, she heard Melinda’s taunting voice below.

“You’re getting soft, Mai! I might actually believe you have learned to care! Watch yourself! It’ll get you killed!”

Griffen
sat between Penny and Fox Lisa in the rear of the black Lincoln Town Car. He dreaded the long drive to Acadia Parish. The vehicle was a replacement for the one that had been totaled by the garbage truck in front of the Irish pub. Horsie sat in the front passenger seat beside the driver, a man of approximately Horsie’s age but in far better shape. Winston Parmalee was Penny’s head of security. A thirty-year veteran of the Marines, he had a sapphire-hard glare and an iron gray crew cut you could have landed a jet on. He had made it clear on several occasions that he didn’t approve of Penny’s amateur guardians. Even allowing Griffen to sit in on the briefing for her visit to the bayou was a major concession. He didn’t reject Fox Lisa since she was a devoted campaign worker, but he hated having Griffen, known to host illegal poker games, anywhere near his candidate. Behind the limo, an unofficial caravan of press vehicles pulled away from the curb.

“Be happy to drop you off anywhere,” Winston offered, as he swung out of the parking lot of Penny’s campaign headquarters on a drizzly Tuesday morning.

“Sure,” Griffen said. He would have been glad of any excuse to get out of going, though his conscience would have slammed him. Winston could undoubtedly handle any physical attacks, but what if something supernatural jumped out of the woodwork?

“Oh, now, let’s all just get along,” Penny said. She leaned forward and patted Winston on the shoulder.

“The public is likely to draw the wrong conclusions if Mr. McCandles is present,” Winston said.

“I think they will draw the right conclusions, won’t they?” Penny said. Her tone was so bright it was almost brittle. “That he is a concerned citizen who has given up some of his very valuable time to support me. Isn’t that right, Griffen?”

She clutched his wrist with her nails. Griffen suppressed a grunt. If he hadn’t had dragon flesh, he would have looked like a suicide victim.

“I’m a concerned citizen,” Griffen assured Winston. “I won’t get in the way, and I will stay out of the cameras. I don’t want to be on the evening news any more than you want me there.”

Winston grunted. “There would be no chance at all if you weren’t there.”

“Now, stop it! He’s coming along, and that’s that!” Penny said, her voice rising almost to a shriek.

Griffen eyed her with dismay, but neither Horsie nor Winston seemed surprised by the outburst. Fox Lisa, dressed in a dark green business suit and a bow tied at her neck that hid all her tattoos, gave Griffen a nervous look. Her job at this rally was to introduce Penny to the crowd, which meant memorizing a short speech and speaking into a microphone before an audience. Fox Lisa had the speech down pat.

“But every time I think of opening my mouth in front of everyone, my throat goes dry,” she had told Griffen.

“I’ll be there with a bottle of water,” he had promised her.

She clutched his hand in both of hers. Griffen squeezed her fingers gently.

Since he had spoken to George five days earlier, Griffen felt he could relax a little. The shape-shifter assassin and the shadowy organization behind him wasn’t after Penny or Val. It wasn’t easy to kill a dragon. Chances were that the people backing Duvallier didn’t know about Penny’s species. He wouldn’t have given long odds on that since they did know about Duvallier. Griffen held out hope, though, because Duvallier hadn’t said he intended to kill Penny. Penny was a fighter. She was armed, knew martial arts, and had alarms and bodyguards within almost constant reach. Griffen did not know how much more he could be expected to contribute to her safety. He hadn’t yet seen any threats he could handle better than Winston or any of her other security agents, all of whom openly questioned his presence.

The man who had driven the garbage truck had come to two weeks ago with no memory at all of how he had come to be driving his vehicle the wrong way up a one-way street in the middle of the night. No trace of alcohol or drugs could be found in his bloodstream, so the police cited him for dangerous driving and left it at that. People with whom Griffen had discussed it either shrugged their shoulders as one of those inexplicable things that happens in New Orleans or put it down to bad juju. Since Rose had not reappeared to confirm the latter, Griffen was left with no answers. The worst thing was that he was getting bored. Fox Lisa might hang on every little detail of the election, but having seen some of the workings from the inside, Griffen no longer felt privileged. The next time he talked to his uncle, he was going to ask for a more fair division of labor.

Except to look up at them peevishly once in a while in a silent demand for quiet, Penny ignored the rest of them and spent the long drive west reading documents from a briefcase at her feet. With nothing else to do, Griffen couldn’t help but read over her shoulder. Penny read the draft of a request for funding, ran down a checklist of school-board members, and read letter after letter from constituents. Those ranged from computer-generated form letters to scrawls on large-lined notebook paper that could have been written by schoolchildren but on close perusal had not. Griffen was grateful for the excellent education he had had and wished everyone could say the same. Penny was clearly in favor of better schools, as she said several times as she dictated answers to the letters into a pocket recorder. Whatever sharp comments she made on the side to the unknown secretary that would be typing these replies, Penny was kind and forthright in the body of the letters. She might speak fluent politicianese, but she never talked down to her correspondents. She was frustrated by the limitations on her powers to change their lives. Griffen developed respect for her, though he would have hated to work for her full-time.

After a few hours winding their way through the inevitable road construction, Winston turned into a gravel drive that led down a long road overhung with dark green Spanish moss and bright green lianas. On either side of the road, the ground sloped down into soggy wetland. The towering ranks of dark-trunked mangrove trees crowded the land. At the end of the winding drive stood a group of nondescript cinder-block buildings painted white, with tiled roofs. Several other cars were already in the parking lot around them. A sweating bald man in a white Oxford shirt and a bow tie waited until the car came to a stop and pulled open the door.

“We’re honored, Representative,” he said. “Just as honored as can be. Everyone’s lookin’ forwa’d to hearin’ you speak.”

“Well, that’s so nice of you, Mr. Anton,” Penny said, graciously, allowing him to hand her out of the car. Upright, she stood at least five inches taller than the bald man. “I’m pleased to be here. What you and your folks here have accomplished is a boon to the environment.”

“Where’s the ladies’ room?” Horsie asked, interrupting. She glanced behind the Lincoln at the horde of reporters pouring out of their vehicles and hoisting their cameras and microphones. “Penny needs to freshen up a little.”

“Well, right there,” Mr. Anton said. He pointed to a recessed door with a screened vent near the top. “Please help yourself.”

Horsie took the briefcase and recorder and pushed Penny into the ladies’ room. She stood outside the door, heading off the handful of reporters who tried to follow Penny inside. Instead, she took a sheaf of papers from the briefcase and distributed copies to each of them.

“Just give the girl some privacy,” Horsie said with an engaging smile. She gathered up the nearest reporters in both arms. “We’ve had a long drive. You wouldn’t want her to say something wrong just because she’s tired out, would you? Here are some talking points she’s going to be discussing today. Now, if you’ll just come with me, I’ll give you some exclusive information that I am sure you all want to hear. Mr. Anton, come with me, and you can answer their questions, too!”

She persuaded them into a gaggle and led them deeper into the property. On the other side of the buildings, a crowd of about two hundred people waited, murmuring to one another. With the grove as a backdrop, a low stand had been erected and furnished with a podium and half a dozen folding chairs.

Fox Lisa and Griffen were left with the austere Winston in the parking lot. Griffen inhaled the heady scent of the trees, so different from the smell of the French Quarter but seeming just as ancient. The breeze off the brackish water of the swamp was chilly. Fox Lisa hunched her shoulders.

“I doubt there was any good reason to bring you along,” Winston said, his lips pursed. He had donned a pair of dark glasses against the strong light, rendering him into an expressionless statue. He was approximately the same height as Griffen but seemed taller because of the breadth of his shoulders. The front of his dark suit coat draped against his chest revealed a boxy outline. Griffen knew he was carrying a large handgun in a shoulder holster and at least two other weapons concealed elsewhere about his person. Griffen had a knife, almost standard issue for someone who lived in the Quarter. Fox Lisa had her pistol. Winston lifted his chin as a couple of uniformed Louisiana State Troopers climbed out of their patrol car. “Stay here.” He went to meet the officers.

It was eerily silent. Griffen could hear a few birds calling in the distance and a jet streaking overhead, but little else. Then his ears perked up.

“Do you hear that?” he asked Fox Lisa.

She strained to listen. “No. What is it?”

“I hear howling.”

“Well, there’s coyotes all over this state,” she said. She eyed him mischievously. “There’s also the loup garou.”

“I know,” Griffen said absently, peering into the shadows cast by the orchard center building’s eaves. “I didn’t think they went around in daylight.”

Fox Lisa looked sour. “I suppose you’re going to tell me you met some of them.”

“I did,” Griffen admitted. “A few of them came to that conference in October. I haven’t been in touch with any of them since.”

She put her hands on her hips in annoyance.

“You met the loup garou?”

With a wary look toward Winston, Griffen hushed her.

“When we have time, I’ll tell you all about the people who were there,” he promised. “For now, just help me watch out for Penny. I want to get back to the city before tonight. I have a couple of games running in two different hotels.”

Fox Lisa let her mouth relax in a grin. “I guess I’m just nervous. And a little jealous. I’ve lived here all my life. My folks used to scare me into behaving with horror stories about the loup garou and the ghosts who live in the graveyards. You hang around with ghosts and all those other things.”

“Believe me,” Griffen said, “your parents were right to warn you. I wouldn’t want you to run into one.”

Fox Lisa patted her purse. “It’d have to move faster than I can pull the trigger.”

“They can move . . .”

“Reeeeeerrrrrrrrrgh!”

The hoarse scream tore the air. Griffen cast around for a moment, then realized it came from the ladies’ room. He slammed open the door and ran in. Fox Lisa was close behind him.

Penny had been shoved against the wall between two hand dryers. With claws spread at her throat was a lithe, hairy creature with a long jaw, triangular ears, and a long tail, clad all over with thick black fur. Red eyes glared out over a long muzzle. A loup garou! Its head whipped around in surprise. It snarled.

Griffen leaped at the beast. He grabbed it around the throat and belly, and pulled it away from Penny. It twisted nimbly in his grasp, coming up with jaws open. Griffen twisted his face away. It bit his shoulder. He headbutted it in the face. It flailed at his chest with its claws, struggling to get free. It shoved all its weight into his midsection. Griffen lost his balance. He fell backward onto the cold concrete floor. The beast fell on top of him, biting at his face and neck. Griffen rolled over, taking the beast over with him. It was smaller and lighter than he was. He used his weight to hold it down while he freed one hand to shove its mouth away. It snarled and writhed, emitting an unearthly squeal. It clamped its jaws on Griffen’s wrist. The sharp teeth couldn’t penetrate his skin, but it hurt.

Fox Lisa was suddenly at his side, feet spread, her pistol in both hands pointed at the creature’s head.

“Lay off, or I’ll blow your brains out!” she shouted.

The loup garou looked up at her in horror and lay flat on the floor, its arms and legs limp. Its eyes lost the red light and faded to pale brown.

“What the hell are you doing in here?” Penny shrieked. She drew back her toe and kicked Griffen in the ribs. “You should have stayed outside!”

“I heard you scream,” Griffen gasped. He clambered to his feet. So did the lycanthrope.

“I didn’t scream,” Penny said, her eyes flashing with fury. She pointed at the loup garou. “She did.”

“She?” Griffen asked, eyeing the lycanthrope in astonishment.

The door burst open, banging against the cinder-block wall. Winston and the state troopers burst in, guns drawn.

“What happened?” he demanded.

Penny recovered her wits at once and brushed back her hair. It had become slightly disarranged in the melee.

“Nothing. I was just having a discussion with a supporter here.”

“This is one of your supporters?” Winston asked dubiously. He turned. Griffen goggled. In that split second while everyone’s attention was turned away, the loup garou had changed into a woman with long dark hair and a deep mahogany complexion. Her ankle-length skirt and peasant blouse were black. She wore no shoes. Griffen supposed they were harder to manifest than clothing.

“How’d she do that?” Fox Lisa demanded.

The loup garou glared at them.

Penny found a smile somewhere and pasted it on her face. She looked so demure and coy that Griffen would never have guessed her life had been in danger a moment before.

“You see? It’s all settled. Now, if all you gentlemen would remove yourself from this female holy of holies, I have to get ready for my speech.”

Horsie appeared behind them with the entire press crew in tow. “Honey, what happened?”

Penny put a gentle-seeming hand on the transformed female’s arm. Griffen saw the loup garou wince.