Tink looked nervous. As if he would get blamed for the other changeling’s behavior. Tammy started to idly run a finger through Griffen’s hair.

So, Griffen thought to himself, this is what a gangster with a moll on his arm must feel like.

“So, Griffen,” Tammy said as the game went on, “I really like New Orleans. I was even thinking about moving here. Say… do you know where I might find a place to stay? Or, maybe have some place I could… sleep. For a while.”

No, if gangsters felt like this, they would shoot all the molls. Tammy was as subtle as a brick.

“I’m not sure that would be such a good idea, Tammy,” Griffen said.

Her hands tightened against him.

“What isn’t a good idea?” she said.

The card game had all but stopped. This was far better entertainment.

“Uh… would you excuse us? Tammy, can I talk to you, privately?”

“You can talk to me now! What isn’t a good idea? Moving, or being close to you? Don’t you like me?!”

He wished he had moved her away from the table earlier, but it was such a sudden shift that it caught Griffen flat-footed. He had forgotten how damn mercurial the changelings could be. And that last question was almost shrieked, and there just wasn’t any good answer to it.

Griffen, in the tradition of brave, i.e. stupid, men throughout history, tried to answer anyway.

“It’s not that, Tammy, but I already basically have two girlfriends as it is, and—”

It was not the time to think on whether or not Fox Lisa or Mai would mind the changeling girl for a night. Besides, with Tammy, he doubted it would ever be just “one night.”

“Two! Two?! Well, then what’s one more?”

“Tammy, relax, let me explain.”

“Explain… I thought you wanted… I thought we had… YOU BASTARD!”

Tammy slapped him, and it hurt. It actually hurt as if he had been hit with a baseball bat. He looked down and saw that her hand was the color of wood. Though there was a slight crack in it, and tears streaming down her face.

“Ow!” she said, whirled, and ran away.

Griffen instinctively started to rise and follow.

“Stop.”

Griffen looked over at Tink, who was shaking his head.

“I’ve seen her like this before. If you follow her, it will mean you love her, and you will never be rid of her.”

“I didn’t mean to…” Griffen said.

“I know. Nothing you did, or said, would have happened with a sane, normal girl. But our Tammy—she’s something special, even for a changeling,” Tink said.

He shook his head and stood.

“Cash me out, will you? I can follow her at a distance, and if she catches me… Well, it wouldn’t be the first time. Trust me, Griffen, you don’t want to follow, I learned that one the hard way,” Tink said.

Tink collected what was left of his stake and strolled out into the night. Griffen watched him go, knowing Tink was right but his instincts telling him what a brute and fool he had been.

“Relax, McCandles. That truly was not your fault. That one is unbalanced,” Lowell said.

“No one could have done better at that point. You made the right choices,” Margie said.

“Yeah, we spread it round. You in da clear. She just crazy.” Kane nodded vigorously.

Somehow that didn’t comfort Griffen. He could only imagine what the rumor mill would make of this one.

And he certainly wasn’t in the mood to play cards anymore.

Flynn knew there was someone in his room.

He had been out for an evening stroll, reviewing in his own head where things stood. Griffen seemed sufficiently distraught, the pressure of the conclave blending nicely with the pressures he had been heaping on. All that was needed was one last plan, one last push. Something from within the conclave itself perhaps. Flynn already had a seed of an idea, and the walk had been just the thing he needed for it to blossom.

Then, a few feet from his door, he knew someone was inside, waiting for him. Flynn wasn’t sure which of his senses had provided the information, nor did he care. The first thing a dragon learned, a proper dragon, was to trust the gestalt of data that showed more of the world than any single sense. It was a trick that the young McCandles seemed to have grasped only barely, but then Flynn knew he wasn’t a proper dragon. Not yet.

Flynn paused for only a moment before opening the door. The matter was rather straightforward. If whoever lay in wait was in his class, they already knew he was in the hall. If they weren’t, there was no threat, and he might as well find out who’d had the stupidity to break into his room.

Of course, he hadn’t considered the possibility of someone in a class all their own. He regretted opening the door as soon as he saw Lizzy, sprawled on her stomach on his bed, flipping channels on his TV.

“A hundred channels, and the funniest thing on is the news,” Lizzy said, not bothering to look up at him.

“Perhaps you should go to a movie?” Flynn suggested.

“Hey, that’s a great idea!”

Lizzy bounced off the bed and was reaching for a tattered leather coat that had been draped on a nearby chair. Her hand stopped a few inches from it, and she turned back to Flynn.

“Say, that was almost clever. You are almost as good at glamour as little Nathaniel.”

Well, it had been worth a try, Flynn thought. Out loud he simply said, “Better, more subtle. But you are… difficult.”

“You’d be amazed how often I am told so. Hey, do you get pay-per-view in this joint?”

With that she was back on the bed, remote in hand. Flynn sighed inwardly and pulled out another chair, sitting with his back to one corner of the room. He watched her aimlessly flip through movie listings, feet kicking in the air like a child. The problem with dealing with Lizzy was he was never sure how much was insanity and how much an act. Mostly the first as far as he could tell. He had a much better time sparring with a professional like Mai.

With his expressions carefully schooled, he bided his time, trying to figure out what Lizzy wanted. He was still getting over the shock of finding her here of all places. Had his attention really been so focused on McCandles that a powder keg like her could go unnoticed? Or had she just arrived?

“Long see no time, or is it the other way around?” Lizzy said.

“Look, Lizzy, I told you before. I won’t help you start an ‘acting’ career without permission from your mother. I am not stepping sideways on her for you.”

“And anyone else who told me no like that would be dead before they finished.”

“Which you tried last time, so skip it,” Flynn said.

Flynn didn’t mention that they had both been lucky to walk away from that. He wasn’t used to such a… physical confrontation. Most dragons considered themselves more elegant than that.

“Mumsy still thinks that the limelight would be too much for her delicate daughter. She says it’s just better all around if Lizzy stays home,” Lizzy said.

“Safer anyway,” said Flynn.

“Exactly. Besides she wants to get her hooks in you herself. She says you go to all the best parties.”

“Ahem… so then what can I help you with?”

Lizzy sat on the edge of the bed and looked at him for the first time. Flynn found himself fascinated by the broken eyes and the confusing mix of emotions that played across her face. Anger, fear, doubt. And random sparks of happiness that gave her a smile so cold Flynn found his heartbeat increasing slightly.

“I came to kill Valerie McCandles.”

“I won’t even help you get out of your mother’s house. You think I’d help you kill someone?”

“Who says I need your help to kill anyone? Lizzy could kill the pope if she wanted to. Not a bad idea that, not bad, but I certainly don’t need some pampered agent to help me with a kill! Not me, not Lizzy.”