Dragons Luck

“And that is just the problem. You haven’t aged. You’ve got just enough blood in you that you could keep knocking heads into your sixties, and every sports commentator in the country will be screaming about steroids and drugs and by that time, probably, cloning. You can’t keep playing a game for twenty- and thirty-year-olds without gaining the wrong type of notoriety,” Flynn said.

“That’s what I got into this for. You promised me fame!” Waters said.

“I promised you a chance at fame, which you blew by being a hothead. And I told you the conditions were that after ten years, you retired and went and wrote cookbooks or something. Or, God forbid, coached.”

“You stupid vampire. You made a fortune off of me, and I got screwed.”

Flynn stiffened, perhaps because of the insult. His tone grew sharp.

“Compared to most clients, you gave me pennies. And I should ruin you for flying down to New Orleans with some cockamamie scheme of trading yourself to the Saints. Idiot.”

“At least I seek fame, instead of just money. Is it true you take IVs of melted gold to get you going in the morning?” Waters shot back, flushing angrily.

“Oh no, I just swim in it, а la Scrooge McDuck,” Flynn said.

Griffen laughed at Flynn’s easy volley, and Waters grew more sullen. Flynn winked at the young dragon, even though he didn’t look much older than midthirties himself. Griffen doubted his age matched his face.

“Pull up a chair, Griffen. No reason for you to stand there.”

Flynn pushed a chair toward Griffen. A drink was already waiting, and as Griffen reached into his wallet, Flynn waved him off, putting a few bills on the bar. The Quarter had broken Griffen of refusing free drinks, but still the gesture surprised him from an utter stranger.

Waters put a hand on the back of the chair, knuckles grazing Griffen’s back.

“No, don’t pull up a chair. I’m not done talking with my agent about extending my ball contract.”

“Not a chance, Waters,” Flynn said. “You don’t have anything to offer me.”

“You mean besides the money from the contract?” Griffen said.

The other two dragons exchanged a glance, for the first time having a meeting of minds. Waters burst into a chortling laugh that set Griffen’s teeth on edge. Flynn’s smile became a smirk, but he still shot a bit of a glare at the other.

“Stow it, Stew. He’s new.”

“New nothing—he’s a baby! This is the kid who scared Stoner? Big tough government dragon!”

“Thanks for the drink. Glad I could give you a few laughs in exchange,” Griffen said, starting to rise.

Waters rose, too.

“Where you going, baby?” he said.

Flynn glanced at the other two dragons.

“Sit down, Griffen, for a moment,” he said. “Waters is an ass, but I didn’t mean any harm. See, for the most part, the big dragons in this country know each other. Not quite a good old boys’ network, more everyone keeping track of everyone else. Now, Waters isn’t a big dragon, not even tops in his industry, but you qualify, or will. So it was a bit of a shock you didn’t know me,” Flynn explained.

“Meaning you are a big dragon?” said Griffen, not taking his chair again and not taking his eyes off Waters.

“I’d say yes if I weren’t so damn modest.”

Flynn winked, and Griffen found himself smiling again. But lost it quickly as Waters cracked his knuckles loudly, vying for attention.

“He’s agent for every major dragon in entertainment. Sports, movies, news, stage, even books,” Waters said.

“Though I’ll be damned if I see much money from the last. They do all come to me,” Flynn said.

“And give you ten percent?” Griffen said.

“Sometimes as much as forty on a few cases. It’s amazing what some people will sign,” Flynn said.

Griffen cocked his head, looking at Waters.

“And your beef with me seems to be?”

“No beef, just figured I’d get a little of that fame I been wanting. I smash your face in, maybe I can sign on with Stoner after I dump this scum sucker,” Waters said.

He took a step toward Griffen. Though he didn’t show scales, his skin seemed to darken, harden. It was as if his dark skin were turning to brick, or stone, but it still moved and rippled like flesh.

Griffen cocked his head the other way.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Griffen said.

A soft growling tugged at the attention of the three dragons.

Two dogs, medium-sized, glared up at Waters. A moment ago they had been asleep in the bar. Now their ears were back and teeth bared. The larger one’s shoulder blades began to tense.

“You think I can’t pound down a dog?” Waters sneered.

The smaller dog barked, a surprisingly loud bark. It drew the attention of the people in the bar and out on the street. One of whom began walking toward the entrance.

“Griffen,” Maestro said. “Was expecting you up the street for pool. Is there a problem?”

That last phrase was said with a bit of edge. His hands were in plain sight, but Griffen had heard a few stories in the past few months. Dogs Waters could handle. This, maybe not.

The bartender looked over.