Robert Asprin's Dragons Run (37 page)

In spite of her exhaustion, Val regained her feet. She held her arm tightly against her side. Griffen headed off Melinda and glared down at her.

“How dare you kidnap my sister!”

Melinda was unapologetic. “She came with me of her own accord.”

“I didn’t intend to stay forever,” Val insisted.

“You should have given me notice.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re working for me, sweetheart,” Melinda said.

Val’s face turned even redder.

“That job was fake. Everything was a sham!”

“Not my affection for you, Valerie. It’s clear you need medical attention.” Melinda sniffed. “And a shower. We need to get you back. Henry, help me take her out to the car.”

The blond man reached for Val’s hand.

“Come with me, dear,” he said. “We’ll get you a penthouse suite while we’re waiting for the plane home.”

“Oh, no!” Val said. She sidled a little unsteadily to the left. “Don’t let him touch me!”

“Don’t be silly,” Henry said, with an imperturbable expression. “We only have your best interests at heart.”

He reached for her again. Val dodged him. Henry followed her as if he could read her mind. Griffen moved to intercept Henry. He didn’t know why Val was so frightened of him, but it didn’t matter. If she feared him, he was Griffen’s enemy.

Griffen had a good head in height on the other man, but Henry moved with surprising speed. Gris-gris and Mike broke off their argument to block Henry from following Val.

“He ain’t gonna touch her as long as I’m alive,” Gris-gris said. He tossed the knife from one hand to the other. It flashed in the air. Henry held out his hands, touching both men on the arms.

“Now, there’s no need for violence,” he said. Mike’s expression softened, but Gris-gris looked more fierce than before. He glared at Henry.

“You can’t charm me, demon. I wearin’ my witch-bag.”

Henry tried to move past him. Gris-gris held the knife up to his face.

Val squeezed backward between a pair of chairs into the second row and made for the open door. She clutched her side as if it hurt. Mai put an arm around her to help her run. Henry dodged his pursuers and ambled swiftly after her.

“Come back, dear. Everyone is looking at you!”

“Leave me alone!”

Mike raced past Griffen and leaped into the air. He tackled Henry and brought him down to the carpet. Camera flashes went off all around them. Mike hauled Henry to his feet, hauled back his fist, and punched him in the jaw. Henry’s head snapped back. He went limp and sank to the floor at their feet.

“Now, why did you do that?” Melinda asked. She signed to her minions to pick up the blond man and lay him on a row of chairs.

“Because Val said he’s a threat,” Griffen said. “It’s over, Val. You can come back.”

Val and Mai halted just past the registration tables. Jerome escorted them over. Griffen gave Val a hug.

“We are going to have a long talk later.”

Val raised her chin defiantly. “Yes, we are.”

Gris-gris tapped her on the arm.

“Hey, lady,” he said.

“Hey, Gris-gris,” Val replied, smiling though tears were standing in her eyes. Gris-gris took her face between his hands and kissed her solidly on the lips. Val wrapped her arms around him and hugged him so tightly he squeaked. Mike watched them, somewhat dismayed.

Mai stood by, seeming small and forlorn. Griffen gathered her in his arms. It felt good to hold her after so long. The questions he needed to ask her didn’t seem as important at that moment.

“Thank you,” he whispered. “I owe you.”

“You most certainly do,” she said.

Malcolm
stalked over to confront Melinda, his usually passive face furious.

“I hold you responsible for this catastrophe,” he said. “You had no right to interrupt this event.”

“Me?” Melinda said with an air of injured innocence. “They’re the ones who assaulted my secretary. Look at him!” She swept a hand toward the unconscious Henry.

“Don’t you worry,” Penny said, descending on them with the press and the police at her back. “I will be pressing charges. Detective Harrison!”

“Yes, ma’am?” Harrison said. Penny pointed an imperious finger.

“Take these . . .
people
into custody. For disturbing the peace and endangering the public!”

“Yes, ma’am.” Harrison nodded to his brothers-in-uniform, who came forward with handcuffs and plastic restraints.

As they arrested Melinda and her bodyguards, from the rear of the ballroom came four men in white coats and flat painter’s caps. Griffen only had a moment to register their curious presence before a pale, naked man dashed into the chamber.

“Hey,” Jerome said. “Who’s the streaker weirdo?”

The man paused for a moment on the threshold, panting and drooling like the Tasmanian Devil, then tore straight toward Val. It took a running dive and latched onto her ankles. She screamed and punched at it.

Griffen gawked, but he was surprised into inaction only for a moment. Gris-gris reacted first. He leaped on the male’s back and dragged its head up. It had no hair and heavy-lidded eyes like a lizard.

The bald white monster! It looked just as Holly had described it.

Gris-gris held his knife to its throat.

“You let her go this second!” he hissed.

Like a snake, it writhed and flipped over onto its back. Gris-gris flew off into the chairs, scattering them like toys. The spectators had retreated, screaming. The creature made another leap at Val. Malcolm and Mike grabbed its legs. They dragged it several feet. It twisted and fought loose. It raked a handful of claws down Mike’s chest, tearing half his shirt off.

“Don’t hurt him!” Val screamed.

Mike pulled back. His skin, dragon-tough, was unmarked. Val let out a sob of relief. Gris-gris crouched in a fighter’s stance, knife in hand, moving for an opening. Griffen and Jerome joined in the fray, trying to restrain the crazed demon. It seemed determined to get at Val no matter what was in its way.

A fifth man in a white coat appeared at the doorway. He pointed at the naked male.

“There he is, men! Grab him! We need to get him back to the asylum!”

George!
At last!

The five demon hunters converged on the group to help subdue the creature. It bit and clawed like a wolverine. Even ten of them weren’t enough to hold it down.

Griffen glared at Melinda, as the bucking, kicking demon bit his ear.

“This is your creature!” he said. “Call it off!”

“I can’t,” she said, peevishly. “Henry is the only one who can control it! And you ruffians knocked him out!”

“I can control it,” Penny said. Confidently, she pushed her way into the midst of the group. “Hey, fellah,” she called. Her musical voice caught the creature’s attention. Slowly, Penny started to move, the dance seeming to come into her from her feet upward. She writhed and twisted, closing her eyes to listen to music only she could hear. The room fell oddly silent.

The cameras focused on her. Penny moved her hips and shoulders. Her hands fluttered upward and down again, describing without words a paradise of sensation that Griffen yearned to know. He could tell that every male in the place experienced the same feeling. Instead of a blue T-shirt and khakis, he pictured her in translucent veils, sparkling with jewels.

That included the demon. It stopped struggling. Its beady eyes fixed on the strawberry blond woman, following her every move like a hungry dog seeing its dinner approaching. Penny sidled closer, her eyelids lowering suggestively. The demon watched her with fascination, its muscles sagging, falling limp. Penny danced a step nearer and whirled, her hair streaming behind her.

The demon’s nostrils twitched. It threw up its head suddenly. Before the posse of dragons and demon hunters could tighten their grip on it, it kicked loose. It had caught Penny’s scent.

Dragon!

It leaped for her, hands clawing for her neck. She fell to her knees. It throttled her, screaming wildly to the ceiling. Griffen scrambled after it, catching one cold, naked foot in his arms. The demon hunters swarmed it, trying to separate predator from prey. There seemed to be no way to control it. It raked its clawed feet down legs and bellies, drawing blood from the shape-changers.

Suddenly, Duvallier was in their midst. He shoved past George and his men and put a finger to the demon’s forehead.

He whipped off his dark glasses. The red eyes almost crackled as the flames behind them brightened. The demon cringed.

“You got no right to be here,” Duvallier said. He put his hands on the creature’s shoulders and pressed downward. It slumped to its knees. Griffen watched, astonished. It
whimpered
. It had taken a dozen men to subdue it, and Duvallier had taken it down with a touch.

The others rushed in to help Penny up. She had trouble swallowing. Her long, slender neck had purple bruises on it. Fox Lisa and Horsie put their arms around her, straightening her hair and clothes. Unfortunately, the cameras were right there to record her in her disheveled state.

Horsie moaned. “Guys, please! She’s been assaulted! She needs to go to the hospital.”

Duvallier let go of the creature. It sat on the floor, its head nodding limply. Black handprints marked its shoulders.

“It won’t be no trouble now,” he said.

The demon hunters swarmed in to wrap it up in restraints. Four of them hauled the now-quiescent creature out of the room. George stood on the threshold.

“Sorry, folks. Escaped lunatic. Got to get him back for his therapy.” He followed the others out.

“Well, son?” Duvallier said to Griffen.

Griffen was impressed and respectful. “Is that something you can teach me to do?”

Duvallier laughed. “If you live long enough to grow some wisdom, I’d be proud to teach you some things. Fire’s been my friend a long time. It ought to be yours, seeing as how you have the heredity.”

“Take ’em down,” Harrison said, pointing at Melinda and her escort. The other two police officers moved in with handcuffs. Val waved an arm in protest.

“Don’t arrest Mike!”

“Ms. McCandles?” Harrison asked.

“He didn’t have anything to do with that thing, I’m sure!”

“How do you know?” Gris-gris asked. “He came in with ’em!”

“I came here to defend Val,” Mike insisted.

“She’s my lady!”

“Well, she’s been my girlfriend for the past several months.”

“You got to her while she was hypnotized. It don’t mean nothin’.”

“I’m not going to argue with you. She made a choice, and the choice was me.”

Val turned to confront them. Both of them had had their clothes torn to rags by the bald demon, but they were already fighting over her. Part of her liked it, but the rest of her was fed up with conflict.

“Enough. Enough already!” she barked. “I belong to me, not either of you! If I choose to sleep with one or both of you, or a whole platoon, it’s
none of your business
!”

“Hear, hear,” Mai said.

“Whatever you say, lady,” Gris-gris said, contritely. “I just missed you like a piece of my soul.”

“I have come to love you, too,” Mike said. “These months with you have been magic.”

“Oooh,” Val said.

At the soft noise, Mike looked hopeful. Val was annoyed. It wasn’t meant for him. She clutched her side. A pain hit her in the ribs. No, it was lower than that. Agony rippled through her belly. She sagged to the floor. Everyone suddenly came to loom over her. Her lower body felt as if it didn’t belong to her. The baby kicked fiercely at her from the inside, as if demanding to be free.

“What’s wrong?” Griffen shouted. He knelt beside her and held her hand. Val tried to answer him through the haze. Mike’s and Gris-gris’s faces swum over her head.

“Wrong?” Melinda said, breaking away from Harrison. “Nothing’s wrong. Everything’s right. She’s having this baby, that’s what’s going on!”

“Now?”
Griffen asked.

“Looks like it!”

“But it’s months early, isn’t it?”

Melinda looked concerned. “It’s the second baby that takes eleven months, you know. The first one can come at any time.” Her answer was flippant, but she did look worried.

“We’d better get her to the hospital,” Griffen said.

Ms. Opal bustled up and took Val’s other hand.

“I called the paramedics and told them two stretchers instead of one. My, my, but this was an event!” She looked sternly at Griffen. “Y’all gonna pay for the damages, gentlemen.”

“Yes, Ms. Opal,” Griffen and Gris-gris chorused.

•   •   •

The
ambulance screamed away along Baronne Street. Gris-gris and Mike had both insisted on riding with Penny, Val, and the paramedics. The police cars had departed with their cargo. Griffen wished he could be a fly on the wall to listen to Melinda trying to reason with Harrison. The irresistible force was about to meet the immovable object. He watched until the red lights were out of sight, then went back inside to deal with the chaos of the interrupted fund-raiser.

A man in a red T-shirt lettered with
ST. GEORGE’S HOSPITAL
fell into step with him. Griffen glanced at it and kept walking.

“You were late. What happened?”

“Mai took my car. I need to find out from her where they left it. Goddamned Prius had no power in the mountains. It just crawled up the slopes. I was lucky to get here the same day as that demon. Lucky Debbie called in all local hunters. The extra manpower and my expenses are going on your bill. Your sister led me on a real wild-goose chase.

“But did you really bring her back?” Griffen asked.

“She would not have gotten away from Melinda without my help. That thing is a watchdog on her estate. No, I did not escort her to your presence. Yes, I was instrumental in getting her out.”

“Okay,” Griffen said. “I’ll pay the bill. Thanks. Are you all right?”

George grimaced.

“I’ve got a score to settle on my own account, but nothing that can’t wait. But I want to talk to your zombie friend. I want to know how he did that.”

“You and me both,” Griffen agreed. “Come in and have a drink. The bar’s open for another half hour.”

“Thanks.” George opened his phone and hit a key. “Debbie? Mission accomplished. I’ll send you the sitrep, but you’re not gonna believe it. It’s a doozy.”

•   •   •

Malcolm
sat on a chair beside the registration tables. His mien was glum. Griffen stood beside him and surveyed the remaining players. One wall had several dents in the plaster where chairs, and bodies, had flown into it. A pool table had been knocked halfway off its trestle. Griffen fervently hoped the slate bed hadn’t been cracked. A quality table like that cost about twelve thousand dollars.

The camera crews had gone. The majority of the spectators had fled, screaming, and were probably giving their side of the story to the press. Griffen dreaded watching the evening news. It wouldn’t be good for their side.

Malcolm cleared his throat.

“I am afraid that the majority of the donations will need to go to pay damages,” he said. “After the prize money is deducted, I fear there will be little left to pay campaign debts. It would seem that Representative Dunbar’s run for governor is over.”

“I know,” Griffen said.

Malcolm looked up at him.

“Though we were unsuccessful in our enterprise, allow me to say that I appreciate all of your efforts in this matter, Griffen. I am glad to see how well you are growing up. I cannot say I fully understand this city or your relationship to it, but you have done well. You are, as your friend Jerome might say, the big dragon here.”

“Thanks, I think,” Griffen said.

Fox Lisa and Mai came over, arm in arm. They gathered Griffen in a three-way hug.

“How are you doing?” Fox Lisa asked.

“I need a drink,” Griffen said. “And about eighteen hours sleep.”

He felt a tap on his shoulder.

“Wait a minute, you can’t go yet,” Elmer said. “We still got a match to finish. Mr. Duvallier wants to see it.”

“Not really,” Griffen said.

“Yeah, really. You promised him.”

Griffen gawked.

“No, I didn’t.”

“Sure did,” Elmer said. “You told him that in exchange for letting Penny alone you’d face his champion. That’s me.”

“You?”

The other man grinned. He took off his sunglasses. Griffen could see that his eyes were unnaturally sunken—or perhaps not so unnaturally, if you considered that Elmer was a walking corpse.

“I was national champion three years running in my day. I want to see if you can beat me. Twelve frames so far. Come on, son!”

Griffen followed him back to the table in the middle of the room. Maestro was waiting for them. He racked up the balls and stood back. At the side of the room, Duvallier and Miss Callaway sat placidly watching. Duvallier waved to Griffen.

Griffen took a deep breath and chalked the tip of his pool cue. He didn’t have to help out with Penny’s campaign any longer. He could go back to his business. His uncle said he was proud of him. His sister was going to have a baby. Life had turned from bad to good in the course of an afternoon.

He leaned over the table. The worried hubbub had given way once again to gentle banter and the peaceful clacking sounds of people playing pool.

Griffen drew back his cue and broke. The one ball shot away from the pack and rolled toward the far-left pocket. Without waiting for it to land, he moved a quarter of the way around the table, sighted down his stick over the cue ball at the two. He tapped it and watched it scoot into the nearest pocket.

The tension of the last months drained away. He fell into a rhythm of angle and shot that was like a dance. He let himself move with it. He sank the nine ball. One frame down. Elmer racked the balls. Griffen broke them. Two frames. Three frames. He was going to run the tables until they pried the cue out of his hand. He wasn’t the greatest pool player in the world, but there and then, he could not lose. He felt it. He would defeat Duvallier’s champion and bring the whole mess to an end.