Dragons Wild

“I’ll admit I’ve always been lucky,” Griffen said with a smile. “Then, too, I’ve always been fond of money. Isn’t that another trait of dragons?”

“Actually,” Malcolm said, “dragons are fond of power. Money or gold is simply one way of gaining it. Some turn to politics or warfare to achieve the same thing. There are several who have gone the route of becoming entertainers. If you look around our modern society, not to mention history, it isn’t that hard to spot the dragons lurking there. Usually around power, always at or near the top.”

Malcolm’s expression darkened. The look he suddenly shot Griffen was filled with greed such as he had never seen. Griffen could hear his pulse beating away wildly as he watched the executive force himself to stay relaxed. Griffen wasn’t sure what set him off more, the expression, or the obvious show of iron-willed control.

“Check me on this, Uncle Mal,” Griffen said, keeping up with Malcolm’s thought. “I’ll be the first to admit that I’m operating with limited knowledge, but I’ve always thought that your basic power broker wasn’t wild about sharing that power with anyone else.”

Malcolm raised his eyebrows in pleased surprise. His expression slipped back into his more neutral mask.

“Exactly right,” he said, nodding at the youth. “Dragons are as solitary as they are greedy. Oh, they may put on a show of being friendly, and many are quite charismatic, some to a point of using another form of mind control called glamour, but underneath it all they’re pretty self-serving. While temporary alliances are occasionally formed, they usually only last until the objective is achieved. There are some ongoing power blocs, mostly to keep track of and counter the doings of other power blocs, but even those are tenuous and prone to realignment.

“That brings us to your situation.”

“Me?” Griffen said, suddenly sitting up straighter.

His expression was attentive, but inside all he could think of were the dangers and pitfalls in the current situation. A part of him was curious, but most of him would have been very glad to be anywhere but this room. Thoughts of a job were long past. He was more interested in making sure he got out of the building with his skin intact.

“That’s right. You see, your parents were both near purebloods. That’s an expression we use to recognize those with minimal human blood in their line. Alone they were each quite powerful, and united they were strong enough to worry some of the power blocs. When they produced not just one, but two offspring, that worry grew to open fear…enough to inspire some factions to engineer their deaths.”

Griffen’s head cocked, body stiffening. He rarely let himself think of his parents, and didn’t care for Malcolm’s comments about them so far, nor for the dark implications whirling in his mind. He began to suspect that this was the key to this whole puzzle. Malcolm didn’t seem to notice the change in his posture, or just didn’t care.

“Now that you’re coming of age, however, things are heating up again. You see, with two near purebloods for parents, the other dragons are assuming that you’ll have rare strength, particularly once your secondary powers develop. Many fear that, despite your youth, you’re potentially more powerful than they are. Can you see what that means?”

“I’ve got an idea,” Griffen said, “but tell me anyway.”

“You’ve become a focal point of the dragon hierarchy. Some will be content to wait and see what powers you develop and what use you decide to make of them. Others will make every effort to recruit you as an ally. I fear, however, that there will be others who will simply try to kill you or have you killed just to be sure those powers aren’t used against them.”

“I see,” Griffen said. “Tell me, you keep saying that all this is coming down the road at me. What about Valerie?”

If other dragons might be out to kill him, where did that leave his situation with the “dragon” in the room? If Malcolm was so deranged by guilt over losing his brother that his mind has slipped into this dementia, what would be the next logical step? If logic could apply. Would he wish to kill a rival dragon, even his own nephew? Would the executive have a gun in his desk? Or would he try to rip Griffen’s throat out like an animal?

He swallowed, and tried his best to keep his breathing regular. Malcolm had not once taken his keen eyes off of Griffen, and the younger man realized he didn’t want his uncle to know just how fast his heartbeat was going at the thoughts of his possible death.

“I’m sure others have kept an eye on her, but your sister has a ways to grow yet before she’s a factor,” Malcolm said. “Besides, as wild and undisciplined as she is, I believe there are other plans in store for her. Using her for breeding stock without her being aware of it comes to mind. For the moment, however, it would be best to focus on your problems.”