Dragons Luck

She really didn’t want to go there. Especially since he was right. As soon as they were in his apartment, she had taken control and kept it. Not just control of the situation, but control of herself. She had almost hurt him with her strength when they first began.

What he’d missed was how much good it had done her. Controlling herself while abandoning herself, it had been a difficult balance, but it had given her what she needed. She felt herself again. Despite never having used quite these means to “center” herself before.

Gris-gris smiled.

“Well, damn, never heard that one before,” he said.

His hands slid to her hips, and, with gentle pressure, he rolled her over. She felt the line of his body press against her back, and craned her neck to look back at him. A gentle but firm bite on the back of her neck stopped her, and his arms wrapped around her, hands beginning to wander.

“Nnn . . . what do you think you are doing?” Valerie said, shifting against him.

“Shut’n up, ma’am,” he said. “But if you can’t talk with me, you might want to figure out who you can.”

Valerie started to answer, and it turned to a gasp. Gris-gris chuckled a satisfied, masculine chuckle. Then it was quite some time later before either was in a mood for thinking again.

Still, he had raised an interesting thought.

Twenty-two

More and more Valerie had been living off her own money. Ever since she started her bartending, she had paid for her own food and drinks and clothing and entertainment. She was actually damn proud of that. Before New Orleans, her lifestyle had been mostly supported by her uncle, just as Griffen’s had been.

Now the only thing she wasn’t paying for was the rent, which she could have managed if she switched from part-time to full-time. Of course it was nice not to have to worry about it, and she might end up working more anyway just to fill the time. Still, it was a good feeling to be self-sufficient.

It also meant she often lost track of just how much money Mose’s gambling operation had to be bringing in. Walking up to his home again, a private residence tucked away from the hustle and bustle of the Quarter streets, Val found herself wondering if Griffen had bothered to check into the figures of his new “business” partners.

Especially since Mose owned his place, the place they were staying, and who knows how many others. Not to mention seeming to employ Jerome full-time, and the shills, dealers, and others in the gambling ring to whom these were essentially part-time jobs. For an operation on the gray side of legal, or worse, it was amazing how profitable it all had to be.

Val pushed that thought aside. It wasn’t why she was here. In fact, she had been very careful to mostly stay out of the gambling side of Griffen’s new life. To her, Mose was a source of information on what it was to be a dragon. That was more than complicated enough for her tastes.

She had Gris-gris to thank for the idea. Mose was someone she could talk to. Not about everything, maybe. She didn’t trust anyone fully. Even her brother couldn’t be trusted sometimes. Like when it came to his not making a fool of himself. But when it came to dragon business, Mose was the top contact on a very short list. She had only waited for the last of the marks on her face to fade before approaching him.

She used the key she had been provided to open the street-level gate and started to Mose’s front entrance. Inside, she could hear the murmur of voices. The closer she got, the more she recognized Mose’s calm, quiet voice. The second voice was Jerome’s, and he was anything but calm.

“Damn it, Mose! I deserve some answers. I’ve earned that much,” Jerome said.

“That you have, son; that you have. But you don’t need them.”

“The hell I don’t. Oh, maybe I can do my job without ’em, but that doesn’t mean I don’t need them.”

“Jerome, I’m not ready to . . .”

Mose drifted off and Val, who was still several feet from the door, could hear him sigh.

“You might as well come in, Valerie. It’s not locked,” Mose said.

She realized sheepishly that if she could hear him sigh, he could hear her walk. Though how he knew just who it was she couldn’t be sure. She walked the rest of the way to his door and let herself in.

“I’m sorry, Mose, I didn’t mean to—” she started.

“Didn’t think you meant to eavesdrop, Valerie. Way we were talking, it would have been hard not to overhear. Though I’d take it as a courtesy if you’d give a shout at the front gate if you aren’t expected,” Mose said.

“Fair enough.”

Valerie took one of the vacant chairs, which left Mose, Jerome, and her all looking at each other. Mose seemed a bit tired to her, but it was Jerome who really caught her eye. His face was drawn, darkened rings under his eyes, and his posture was wire tight. If she hadn’t known any better, she would have thought she was looking at a man right on the edge of his resources.