however tempting.
“I heard you talking with Bone,” Lisa said, stepping into the silence. “It sounds like you’re as big a movie buff as he is.”
“It’s an old passion of mine,” he said with a shrug. “Things are always clearer and more easily resolved in movies. I guess the romantic in me is drawn to that.”
“Well, I happen to have one of the biggest collections of videos and DVDs in the Quarter.” Lisa smiled. “And my apartment’s only a block and a half from here. Maybe we could watch a movie together.”
Griffen felt his resolve weaken.
“That would be pleasant,” he said. “When did you have in mind?”
“Actually,” she said, wetting her lips with the tip of her tongue, “I was thinking about right now.”
For a moment Griffen was taken aback, then he remembered that this was the Quarter, where people would go to a party or head for a different bar at two o’clock in the morning. Then he realized that Lisa was inviting him back to her apartment.
Looking into her bright eyes, his resolve crumbled and he smiled.
“As I said, that sounds pleasant.”
They never did get around to watching a movie.
The place Jerome took Griffen and Valerie to was one of those small houses on a side street in the Quarter. It was set back slightly from the street and had its own fence and gate with room to park two cars in front of it.
Even in his brief time getting to know the neighborhood, Griffen knew that he was looking at expensive property, even though it did not look particularly pretentious. Parking was at a premium on these streets, with people paying ninety to a hundred and fifty dollars a month for an enclosed, secure parking place. A home like this one, with its own secured parking, meant money.
Jerome punched a code into the keypad mounted on the pedestrian gate, and led Griffen and Valerie up onto the porch. He knocked once, lightly, then opened the door on his own. Apparently they were expected.
While speculating about this meeting, Griffen had found himself wondering the most about exactly what Mose would look like. His visions of the man ranged from a ponderous fat man to one that was skeletally thin. If this was a movie, that would be how the role was cast. Powerful crime leaders should look dominating…or, at least, impressive.
The man sitting in the easy chair of the small living room they stepped into was nondescript. In fact, he looked so ordinary that Griffen would not have looked at him twice if they passed on the street. Medium height and build with short-cropped white hair, he could have been a doorman or cook, or maybe a shop owner. Even his dress, consisting of a plain sports shirt and a pair or khakis with his feet shoved into a pair of slippers, was unremarkable.
Perhaps the only noteworthy feature about him was his face. His milk-chocolate-colored skin was lined with deep smile wrinkles, and his dark eyes twinkled with vague amusement, as if he were waiting for you to catch onto a joke.
Griffen found himself liking the man before a single word had been spoken.
“Mose,” Jerome said. “This is Griffen and Valerie McCandles. Grif, Val, this is Mose.”
“Griffen. Miz Valerie,” Mose said, half rising from his seat. “Been looking forward to meeting you both. Just make yourselves comfortable. Can I get you anything? A drink? Some coffee?”
“Coffee would be fine,” Griffen said, taking the lead as they seated themselves on the sofa. “Val?”
She nodded.
Mose nodded to Jerome, who disappeared into the depths of the house.
“Well, before we start talking about our setup here in the Big Easy,” Mose said, “I expect you have some questions about being dragons. As I understand it, this is all pretty new to you.”
“Very new,” Griffen said. “Questions? Oh, only a couple dozen off the top of my head.”
Mose smiled.
“Fire away. I probably can’t answer them all, but maybe we can make a start of it.”
Jerome reappeared with a tray laden with coffee, cups, and the condiments including a small plate of croissants. The conversation paused while they all helped themselves.
“Well, for openers,” Griffen said, settling back, “everyone keeps talking about our ‘secondary powers’ starting to show as we come of age. What can you tell us about these ‘secondary powers’?”
“Not much,” Mose said. “Don’t think I’m trying to hold back information, though. It’s just that the powers have been diluted over the centuries, and now it’s hard to separate what’s fact from what’s brag or legend.”
“You mention centuries,” Valerie put in. “If you don’t mind my asking, just how old are you, Mose?”
The old man laughed.
“There them that say everyone calls me ‘Mose’ because I’m as old as Moses. Truth to tell, I’m not that old…and they’ve been calling me ‘Mose’ even when I was young. Say I’m over a hundred and fifty years old and you’ll be in the right neighborhood. But don’t start asking me about the old days or I’ll never shut up. Nothing as boring as an old man talking about how things used to be. You’ve got to realize, though, that a lot of what you learned as history to me are memories…and I got lots of memories. Mostly these days I try to keep focused on the here and now. That’s enough to keep me busy.”
He cocked his head at Griffen.
“But you were asking about the ‘secondary powers.’ Again, it’s hard to tell for sure, because even those that have some tend to try to keep them secret. Draws less attention that way.”
“My uncle Malcolm lit a cigar just by blowing on it,” Griffen said.
“Yeah, I’ve heard that some can do that,” Mose said. “Of course, Mal is a half blood. Folks like Jerome and me who are lesser bloods don’t have as many powers.”
He picked up a cigarette lighter from the coffee table, lit it, then held his hand in the flame as he continued.
“I’ve always been good with fire. I could hold my hand here all day and it wouldn’t burn me. I’d feel some heat, but it wouldn’t hurt.”
He extinguished the flame.
“Dragon skin is one of the secondary powers that pops up in varying degrees. I don’t burn and I don’t bruise. Now, if you was to stick me hard with a knife, I’d bleed like a human…but even then, it wouldn’t penetrate too far. It would be like trying to stick a human through a thick leather coat. You could get through, but not as easily as if you were just dealing with bare skin.
“Some say that the closer to pure-blood you are, the tougher your skin will be. I’m not sure you could get through Mal’s skin with a knife at all. A true pureblood is supposed to be able to shrug off bullets. Of course, even though the skin doesn’t break, I’m not sure what it would do to the bones underneath if you got hit with a big enough caliber.”
While he was considering trying the flame trick, Griffen mentally decided holding off testing whether or not he was bulletproof for as long as possible.
“There are all sorts of things some say dragons can have as secondary powers.” Mose continued. “Dragon skin and breathing flame are both pretty well-known and documented. Size changing and shape-shifting are talked about, but you don’t actually see it very often.”
“How do those work, exactly?” Valerie said. “I mean, is it like the Human Torch from the
“As I understand it, it’s kind of like your voluntary muscles,” Mose said. “I mean, the dragon skin, if you get it, will always be with you. As to the others, once you discover you have it, you have to train it and learn control.”
“How do you do that?” Griffen said.
“Like I say, it’s like a muscle you just learned you have. Imagine if you were just learning to use your arm.
