my temper tonight. I hadn’t played the docile mortal in a long, long time, but even I remembered that glaring and back talk were strictly not allowed. I just wished I could remember the rest of it. Being a beautiful, silent attendant who responded instinctively to her dragon’s every whim wasn’t as easy as it looked. Even back when this had been my full-time life, I’d never been anywhere near as good as my mom. She could tell what my dad wanted from a single look. I had to rely on hand signals.

“Remember, let me do the talking,” Yong said as our car started down the long spiral ramp that served as both the VIP and service entrance to the bottom of the Rentfree chasm. “If this is going to work, the Gameskeeper has to believe you’re mine, and kept humans—”

“Don’t speak,” I finished with a sigh. “I know.”

“I was going to say, ‘are deferential,’” he replied, handing me the briefcase we’d prepared earlier.

I sighed again as I hefted the hard leather case into my lap, looking warily out the tinted window at all the limos that had been crammed into the arena’s underground parking deck. “Did you make an appointment?”

“Of course not. Dragons don’t make appointments.”

“What? How do you know he’ll even see us, then?” According to Nik, the Gameskeeper was the biggest deal in the Underground, and important people didn’t see anyone without a prior request. I knew that my dad understood that because he was the one who’d taught it to me, but while I was starting to panic, my father just smiled.

“We don’t need an appointment because we’re not going to see him,” Yong said, reaching down to straighten the points of the pink ribbon at the base of my high collar. “I’m allowing him to see me. Our visit is his privilege, puppy. That is what it means to be great.”

I was so boggled, I didn’t even flinch at the hated nickname. I simply could not understand how my dad—reduced to a tiny fraction of his former strength, wearing an outlet-store suit, relying on a briefcase full of money that wasn’t his—could be so cocky. It must have been an inborn draconic superpower, because when our car rolled to a stop at the curb in front of the arena’s red-carpeted VIP entrance, the weariness that had clung to him since he’d woken up fell away like a shed skin. I’d driven down here with my dad, but it was the Great Yong, Dragon of Korea, who stepped out of the vehicle, looking down his nose at the armored humans guarding the VIP door with a sneer that made me feel like a lowly worm just for being in the same vicinity.

“I have come to speak with the Gameskeeper,” he pronounced, his voice rumbling with a predatory menace no human throat could copy. “Inform him that the Dragon of Korea has arrived.”

That was it. No explanation, no please, just wild demands out of the blue. Typical dragon behavior, in other words. If guarding that door had been my job, I’d have been pulling my gun and calling for backup, but the poor men in front of my father did no such thing. They looked as if they were having trouble staying on their feet, actually, their hands shaking so badly that their guns were rattling.

The reaction struck me as odd. Given the place they were guarding, I’d have thought they greeted monsters all the time. Then I remembered dragons didn’t usually deign to visit the Underground, which meant these men had probably never seen one in person before.

That explained it. Your first dragon was a unique experience, and not one you could prep for. Even Nik had gone to his knees the first time he’d seen my father. These poor babies were clearly new to the phenomenon as well, because the magical predator-induced terror was reducing them to jelly before my eyes.

And I loved it. After so many years of being on the receiving end of dragon bullshit, it was incredibly satisfying to have all that power on my side for once. So much so that I fell into my part without thinking, standing behind my father with his briefcase in my gloved hands and a smug smirk on my made-up face that I’m sure made me look just like the little spoiled doll I was dressed up to be.

“I-I’m sorry, sir,” the guard on the left stammered when he’d finally recovered enough of his wits to string words together again. “But the Gameskeeper isn’t seeing anyone at the—”

“I did not ask what he was doing,” my father said, his glowing eyes narrowing to slits. “I am here, therefore, he will see me.”

“Yes, sir,” the guard whimpered, surrendering the fight at once. “I’ll show you to the Game Room where you can be entertained until—”

“No,” Yong snapped, causing both men to flinch as if the word had been an actual bite. “I did not come here to be entertained. I came to speak with your master. He is in the building, yes?” When the human nodded, my father lifted his chin. “Then you will take me to him. No stops, no stalling. Is that understood?”

He punctuated the order with a growl I felt all the way to the pit of my stomach, and I wasn’t even in his direct line of fire. The guards were, though, and the sound set both of them scrambling. There was no more back talk after that. They simply opened the armored doors and stood aside, cowering in the alcoves as they waited for my father to pass.

He did so like a cold front, sweeping down the red carpet and past the security cameras as if he owned the place. I followed at a respectful distance, keeping my eyes sharp as we walked out of the parking deck and into a very different part of the Gameskeeper’s arena.

When I’d come in through the front gates last night, everything I’d seen had

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