Free Robert Asprin's Dragons Run by Jody Lynn Nye Page B

patted her purse. Griffen remembered she had a loaded gun in it that she knew how to use. “We’re both packing. I won’t say Penny’s a better shot than me, because she’s not—but she isn’t afraid to pull the trigger. And she’s a brown belt. I’ve seen her throw some pretty big men across the room. That’s how she keeps in shape. She’s also got a head of security on her campaign staff. Maurice is a bouncer at a club near the Superdome. You want me to give him a heads-up?”
    “This . . . might not be that kind of attack. I don’t know what it might be or how to counter it. Not yet, anyway.”
    Fox Lisa nodded solemnly. “Griffen, I’ll do everything I can to help her. She’ll make a great governor. I believe in her. If that means blasting the shit out of some werewolf, it would be my pleasure.”
    Griffen shrugged. “When I know anything I can tell you, I will. You know that.”
    Fox Lisa grinned. “I don’t mind. I stopped thinking I knew everything about the time I turned thirteen.”
    “Hey, Grifter!”
    Griffen turned to see Jerome sidle into the pub. He was a tall, muscular, African-American who had been Griffen’s best friend in college and was his second-in-command running the gambling operation. Griffen waited until Jerome picked up a chilled glass of beer from the bartender, then shoved a chair out from their table with his foot.
    “Hi, Jer. How’d the games go?”
    “No problem.” Jerome glanced around. He caught Malcolm’s eye and nodded to him. Malcolm nodded back. Penny Dunbar shot a curious glance his way, then returned to the conversation. Griffen watched this silent exchange with interest. It shouldn’t have surprised him by then that Jerome knew Malcolm McCandles. Griffen was all too aware how many people had been watching him as he grew up. A prophecy about a powerful young dragon had come to be centered on him. Whether it was true or not, the focus of a lot of dragons was on Griffen. He would really have appreciated having it confirmed, so he could get on with his life, but that was unlikely. Instead, he had to settle for picking up clues and nuances where he could. “Any news about Val?”
    “Nothing. Gris-gris called to ask me the same thing. It’ll be a couple more days before they let him out, and he’s jumping to start looking around as soon as he can.”
    “He really should not rush a belly wound,” Jerome said. “But trying to keep Gris-gris down is like trying to stuff bees back into a hive.”
    “I know.” Griffen frowned.
    Jerome nudged him with the back of his hand. “Don’t worry, Grifter. I’m sure Val’s fine. I’ve got some ears and eyes looking for her, too. Hey, here’s tonight’s takings. We did okay. Doughboy asked me for a loan.” He mentioned a runner who also helped with the catering arrangements. The nickname referred to his wide belly and high voice. “He’s got child support to pay. I made a note of the amount. He never asks, so I made an executive decision.”
    He slid an envelope under Griffen’s hand. Griffen slid it off the table and into a pocket.
    “You know more about this business than I do,” Griffen said. “If you think this isn’t the beginning of a trend, I respect your judgment.”
    “He’s as honest as anybody. He just got caught with empty pockets. It could happen to anyone.” Jer lifted his chin toward the other table. “Anything I can help out with on this?”
    “I don’t know yet,” Griffen said. He explained what he could. Jerome’s face went blank as he listened, as if he was psyching out fellow players at a poker table. “I hope it’s nothing.”
    “Rumors like that get started all the time.”
    “I’ve heard something . . . more substantial,” Griffen said. “It’s more than rumor, but I think less than fact.”
    Jerome nodded. “You can count on me, when I have time.”
    “Thanks, Jer,” Fox Lisa said.
    Griffen gave him a wry look. “If that’s an obvious warning not to waste all