"You might understand that we have no good reason to trust your family," Griffen said. Melinda's eyes flashed as if they were made of crystal. "Your son seduced my sister, and you whisked him out of town so he didn't have to answer for that. Your daughter--you know what she did."
"And your sister took revenge on Lizzy. She is still recovering. I have spent months taking care of her. She is upset that Valerie would attack her like that."
"It wasn't revenge. She was only protecting herself."
"I told you and Valerie I wouldn't disagree with you on that. Lizzy is difficult to control. Nathaniel . . . has his interests. I deplore his approach, but I understand the urge. He behaved dishonorably, but your immediate reaction to him would have been out of proportion."
"I don't think so," Griffen said. "My sister feels that she was raped. Anything I did to him in her defense would have been disproportionately small in comparison. To have used glamour on her to rob her of free will is no better than putting rohypnol in her drink."
"That is a very strong accusation."
"You've heard it before," Griffen said, offhandedly. "Your last try to arrange a meeting, as you call it, was another attempt to seduce her."
"And she thrashed my messenger," Melinda said, with a dismissive wave. "Dale doesn't possess the talent for glamour. He would have gone no further than she wanted him to, but it doesn't matter. She sent him away. I thought it better to make my approach directly to you."
"Fine. Tell me what you are here for."
"I want contact. I am tired of waiting. You do not have any right to keep me from my grandchild. I want to see Valerie. I will see Valerie."
"I will fight you to the death to protect my sister and her baby," Griffen said. "You know what they say about dragon fighting dragon. I don't give a damn about that. I will use everything in my power to keep you from bothering her."
"Bothering her?" the deep voice rose. The few human customers looked up nervously. No one wanted to get in the middle of an argument between strangers. They had no idea what was really going on.
"You're scaring the straights," Griffen said, with amusement he did not feel.
Melinda visibly put herself under control. "You both are reading more into my intentions than is there. I just want to meet with her. I've been waiting very patiently, caring for my daughter. I don't have all the time in the world. Lizzy will be fully recovered soon."
Griffen felt the hair on the back of his neck stand up. Scales broke out on the backs of his hands. Hastily, he forced both reactions to subside, but she had seen his alarm.
"No, she won't be coming back," Melinda said, with a glint in her pale eyes. She could tell exactly what Griffen was thinking. "I will make certain of it. But my business here is not concluded. I have a right to speak with Valerie. That child will be of my blood as well as your line's. You don't know how important it is to protect it. And the potential it carries is immense. I don't want it to grow up deprived of both sides of its family. The support of one's clan is vital. Dragon families are more vital than any human's. Malcolm McCandles has a lot to answer for, raising you as if you were pedigreed dogs, with a kennel master instead of foster parents. He knew there were other families in the dragon community who would have given you a home after you lost your parents, who would have taught you what you needed to know."
"That's none of your business," Griffen said.
"Both of you like to use that phrase," Melinda said. "But it is my business. Like anyone who wants to assure the future for our species, I am interested in Valerie's well-being and that of her child. I want to give the next generation my full support."
"There shouldn't even be another generation on the way yet," Griffen said, bitterly. "My sister hasn't even finished college. Thanks to your son. And both might have ended if any of your daughter's attacks had been successful."
Melinda looked pained. "Please. As you say, my children are not good at handling personal relationships or settling down. You can understand that I am seizing the opportunity as I can. This may be my only grandchild."
Griffen felt the poignancy in her words. He almost gave in at that moment, but she was still Melinda. He knew Mai distrusted her, and Mose had been wary of her.
"Maybe we can work something out," Griffen said. "Under normal circumstances I would agree, that both sides should support a baby on the way, but these aren't normal."
"The circumstances are as normal as they get for dragons," Melinda said. "You have no idea."
"I don't want to know. My sister is the only one I care about. But let's declare a truce. I will talk to her. You stop phoning her and having her followed. If she says no, then you leave her alone until and if she wants to make contact with you. Her word is final."
"Nothing is final when you live as long as we do," Melinda said.
Griffen looked grimly pleased.
"The same goes for you," he snarled. He held out his hand and willed the power of the scepter into it. A flame rose from his palm. He clenched his fist, and the fire snuffed out. It hurt, but it was an effective show. Melinda smiled.
"Ah, you are coming into your gifts. Very well, I will abide by a truce. Please assure Valerie I really do only have her best interests in mind."
"I'll tell her. The decision is hers, though."
"Good enough for now," Melinda said. She nodded sharply. The two dragons pretending to shop for books fanned out to flank her. She glanced at Griffen, then headed for the door.
The bell jingled before she reached it. She stopped as the door opened inward. Etienne strode in. He scanned the store. His face lit up as he spotted Griffen.
"Mr. Griffen! Glad to find you here. I gotta ask you somet'ing."
That means money, Griffen thought. "What can I do for you?"
Etienne pointed to the nearest bay of shelves. "Well, let's just take a moment alone over dere where we gots some privacy."
Melinda snorted at him. Etienne noticed her. He removed himself from her path and sketched a deep bow.
"My lady."
Melinda raised her chin and strode out past him. Griffen eyed him curiously. Etienne met him with a bland smile. He took Griffen's arm.
"How do you feel about addin' some extra advertisin' in the newspaper Sunday supplement for the krewe?" he asked. "Half the proceeds go to our charity. Some of the others are kickin' in for a half-page ad. It'd be about a thousand. Mean a lot to have your support."
"Another thousand? This is running into serious money," Griffen said, feeling as if he was being fleeced by an expert.
"You have it, or so I hear," Etienne said. He gave Griffen a knowing glance. Griffen wondered how much of his intel was gossip and how much was clairvoyance.
"Less than I had before," Griffen said. He had a mental picture of bags of cash with wings fluttering out of the window like in an old cartoon. He wanted to say no, but it was hard to appear stingy when everyone else was being generous. Jerome had told him of a voodoo deity that appeared in disguise to ask for charity. It was bad karma to refuse. As tightly as he was stretched, giving to those less fortunate was important. "All right." Etienne slapped him on the back.
"It's all for a good cause. Hey, don't forget. Your final costume fittin' is day after tomorrow. Don't be late, okay? The tailor's fingers are about to fall off, all the people she's gotta fit, even though I told her you're somet'ing special."
"I know, I'm king," Griffen grumbled.
Etienne smiled. "Good, ain't it? See you at the first ball."