Dragons Luck

“You got that right,” Jerome said with a brief grin. “You know, don’t you, that a lot of them will already be thinking that you’re at the bottom of the trouble with Slim.”

“Yeah, I know,” Griffen said. “What I’m going to do is flat out tell them that I had nothing to do with it. There’s no way to prove that right now, so they’ll just have to either believe me or not. It’s still early, so I’m going to try to catch some of the attendees in the hotel lobby bar, then check a few of the other clubs they’ve been hanging at. I’ll leave it to the ones I catch to spread the word to the others.”

Jerome looked around.

“Like you said, it’s still early. Let’s talk this out a little over a drink before you stick your neck out. I think there’s a bar around here somewhere.”

That got a laugh out of Griffen. One was never far from a bar in the French Quarter.

They stepped into one of the quieter bars available and ordered a round, carefully choosing seats well away from the other customers and the bartender.

“So, what have you got on your mind?” Griffen asked, settling in and taking a sip from his drink. “And can you keep it short? I really have to get over to the conclave.”

“That’s what I what to talk about,” Jerome said. “You’re so wrapped up in that conclave you aren’t thinking.”

“C’mon, Jer. I thought we were past that.”

“I’m not talking about business,” Jerome said, shaking his head. “I’m talkin’ about what’s goin’ on now. Something smells about the whole deal.”

“What do you mean?” Griffen said, cocking his head to one side.

“That’s what I’m talkin’ ’bout,” Jerome pressed. “You got so much shit goin’ on, you don’t have time to think. Well, take a few minutes here and think. You think it’s a coincidence, Slim getting killed so soon after you went head-to-head with him? While you’re in the middle of tryin’ to moderate that conclave?”

“Well, what else could it be?” Griffen said.

“It could be that someone’s tryin’ to set you up,” Jerome said, pointedly. “If it isn’t a frame for a murder rap, then at the very least someone’s out to embarrass you big-time.”

“I think you’re stretching a bit to think that,” Griffen said, skeptically.

“Well, I think you’re stretchin’ if you don’t think that,” Jerome shot back. “Look, all I’m sayin’ is to think about it and watch your back. If I’m wrong and it is all just coincidence, there’s no harm done. But if I’m right, and you keep trying to wave it all off as coincidence, you could really get blindsided.”

Griffen started to speak, then hesitated. Taking another sip from his drink, he stared at the wall for a long minute.

“All right,” he said at last. “I’ll consider it seriously. My first question would be who would want to set me up? I’m getting along well with everyone at the conclave . . . well, nearly everyone.”

“All it takes is one,” Jerome warned. “Besides, it doesn’t necessarily have to be someone from the conclave. You’re not only a dragon, you’re the head dragon in this area. That makes you a target. Every time you take a breath, you’re gonna upset somebody . . . and they’re going to keep coming after you until you stop breathing. Get used to it.”

“Do you have anyone specifically in mind?” Griffen said.

“Haven’t gotten that far,” Jerome admitted. “Didn’t you and Val go sideways to a couple of Melinda’s boys a while back?”

“Yeah, but we haven’t seen or heard from them since,” Griffen said, then hesitated. “Did I mention to you that George is back in town?”

“The one who tried to kill you a couple months ago?” Jerome said, sitting up straight. “He’s in town, and you didn’t let us know?”

“I think it was more that he was testing me than trying to kill me,” Griffen said. “And as far as him being in town, he says he’s just here on vacation. As a matter of fact, he’s Valerie’s date for the masquerade.”

“Uh-huh,” Jerome said. “You’ve got a known supernatural hit man in town, someone from the conclave turns up dead, and you think it’s a coincidence?”

“He only acts when someone is paying him,” Griffen pointed out. “Which would still leave us looking for someone with a motive. Heck, I’d be more likely to suspect Flynn than George.”

“Flynn? West Coast big-time dragon Flynn? He’s in town?”

“Yeah. I met him a couple of weeks ago, and he’s been giving me advice on how to run the conclave,” Griffen said. “Why? Do you know him?”

“Never met him, but I’ve heard he’s a major power player,” Jerome said. “He’s not one I’d figure to be giving out free advice.”

“Sounds like you’ve been talking to Mai,” Griffen said with a laugh.

“Heard about him long time before I met Mai,” Jerome said. “If she doesn’t trust him, I’d say she’s with the majority. Anybody else in town you haven’t told me about?”

“That’s it. But I take your point.” Griffen finished his drink.

“I’ll go pass the word on to the conclave. You see if you can round up Val and Mai and meet me back at my place. Maybe between us we can sort this thing out.”