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A small, slim figure stood silhouetted by the hall lights in the rectangle of the door frame. She stalked in. No dragon of her blood needed lights to locate him, just as he did not require them to see and identify her.

"Well, well, Mai," he said. "Welcome, Princess-who-is-not."

She did not startle. The slamming-open of the door was for effect, not to surprise. She knew he would be alert.

"What are you doing here?" she demanded. In the dark, he saw not the human lineaments of her face but a flickering mask of power that would identify her no matter what shape she wore.

"Since ten o'clock, I have been waiting for you," he said.

"No! I mean, what are you doing in New Orleans?"

"The concerns of the elders are my concerns," Jordan said. "As they should have been yours."

"They are my concerns!" Mai said. The conversation was not going as she intended it to. She tightened her hands into fists. She had crossed paths with Jordan Ma before, several times. He was insufferable and proud, but clever. He had gone to a lot of trouble to make the elders think that he was more valuable than he was. She did not want him interfering in her mission. She must take control of the situation and keep it.

It had taken her hours to scan the city and find him. Of course, he occupied a luxury suite in a fancy hotel. To her annoyance, it was not far from her own hotel. He was aware of her search. She knew that would be likely. She hated that he seemed amused by her.

"What do you want?" he asked, sounding almost bored. "I would like to go to bed, soon. Not with you, of course."

"Are you responsible for the death of an Eastern dragon? One of our own kind?"

"I assume you mean the traitor to our cause," Jordan said. The shadow of his face was drawn into an expression of scorn. "Jesse Lee was warned."

"He was a child! He had promise."

"But not for us. Once he removed himself from the clan, he was on his own, a ronin, as the Japanese humans call it. He knew the risks. He chose his fate."

"But why kill him? His desertion was months ago."

"I did not kill him," Jordan said. She could not tell from the shadow of his face if he was lying. He was too good a poker player. "You must ask those who performed the deed. I would see to it that they are well rewarded." He smirked. "You do not care about others. I assume he meant something to Griffen McCandles."

"I do care what became of this child!" Mai exclaimed. Jordan waved away her protest. He treated her as if she did not matter. She resented it. "Why are you here?" she repeated. "What are you doing invading poker games?"

"Do you have any authority to ask?"

"Don't you know who I am?"

"If you must ask me that, then you must know I do not care," Jordan said, with a supercilious smile her claws itched to tear off his jaws.

"Then enlighten me. You will enjoy dangling that little bit of knowledge that you possess."

"The elders are tired of waiting for you to perform the task for which you were sent. You have been making excuses all this time. They are displeased."

"My arrangements are intricate," Mai said. "They want influence over Griffen McCandles. I cannot engineer that in a crude fashion. He is not a fool. He will rebel against blunt force."

Jordan flipped a hand. "The Lee sprout died very easily. It would be as simple to dispose of McCandles if he does not comply."

Mai felt panic rising in her belly. He would not think of trying to kill Griffen? "But the elders want him alive. They have a purpose for him. I am here to steer him to that purpose."

"You are not acting swiftly enough. They think that you have become soft. You prove their thesis, as you are upset over the death of a mere card dealer. You are becoming attached to the subject of your maneuverings. Instead, McCandles has power over you. The elders have warned you before, but you have shown no signs that you heed them. It is time for others to step in. You have become ineffective."

Ineffective? Mai felt her tail grow behind her. Her claws emerged, smooth and sharp as a machete. Mai leaped for Jordan, claws out. She raked her talons across his chest. They ripped open his jacket and shirt, and drew tiny lines of blood.

He took moments longer than she to transform. With longer arms and legs, he had the advantage of reach. He paused as she struck again, then wrapped her in his limbs. She struggled in his grasp. He bent his jaws to the back of her neck. One bite, and she would be eliminated as a nuisance. But she snaked her head back, and breathed.

Fire did not destroy a dragon as it did a lesser mortal, but it hurt. Jordan's muscles contracted. He squeezed. Mai gasped. He was not as powerful as she, but he was strong. He crushed her in his grasp. Her head snaked wildly on its long neck. She bit at him again and again.

"Ow!" he bellowed. He snapped back, and she bit his flickering tongue. Jordan lost his focus. What a dirty fighter the little female was! He dropped forward, still holding her. The floor boomed under their combined weight. Furniture went flying.

"Oof!" Mai grunted. She had landed on her back. She scrabbled at his belly with all four legs until he spread his wings and lifted off her just to get away. He fled to the bedroom, heading for the full-length glass doors that led to the balcony. She gathered herself and sprang.

She crushed his wings to his back. He fell to the floor again. Mai bared her sharp teeth and went for the nape of his neck. Jordan twisted in her grasp. Suddenly, she lost hold of him. She found herself flying through the air. Glass splintered as she crashed into the long mirror on the wall. Mai recovered in the time it took her to fall to the floor. Jordan had the French doors open and stood on the wrought-iron balustrade, ready to spring into space. She shot forward on all fours, and fastened herself around his ankles. He toppled backward and twisted to bite her. Mai slapped his head sideways and hissed at him.

"Is that all you have?" she asked. "Tell me your purpose here! Tell me!"

Jordan's eyes blazed. He snapped at her nose. Mai recoiled in pain. Now she wanted to kill him. She dug her talons into his side.

Jordan bellowed. He clamped his teeth on her shoulder. They rolled on the floor.

The delicate sound of a wind chime tinkled in Mai's ear. Jordan's glowing eyes dampened for a moment. Mai realized it was his cell phone ringing. He used Gilbert and Sullivan's "Three Little Maids from School" as a ring tone? What a wimp! She knocked his chin upward with the top of her head and bit his throat.

With difficulty, he turned on his belly and tried to crawl toward the bedside table. Mai hung on to him, clawing and biting. He must not reach it. He would not reach it. He was no match for her!

The telephone tittered on through the verse and on into the chorus. Abruptly, the noise stopped. Jordan halted and dropped to his belly. Mai was almost thrown off. He took advantage of her loss of balance to snake a claw up and grab the joint of her wing. He yanked downward. Wings were delicate and prone to breakage. Mai had to follow where hers went. Jordan flipped her over so her throat faced up.

Suddenly, a shadow loomed over both of them, blocking the light from the window.

"Jordan, you didn't answer your phone. . . ."