“Everyone has been out of sorts and serious lately. Silly, isn’t it? I mean, after all, no one’s tried to kill any of us in a few weeks. Things should be springtime and light.”

“Yes. Silly,” said Mai.

The two stared at each other. Val, tall and strong. Mai, small and delicate. Mai’s expression was absolutely unreadable, as blank and lovely as a doll’s. Val tried, but something leaked past. A touch of spark in her eyes, as if daring Mai, or the world, to react first.

“Is it Nathaniel’s?” Mai inquired, face still unreadable.

Val’s face broke in a mixture of surprise, sadness, and, above all, relief. She sank into a chair, holding her face in her hands. Not crying, but showing signs close to exhaustion. Mai approached slowly, almost cautiously, and wrapped her arms around Val, hugging her.

“Yes,” Val said, then more angrily, “Yes! That son of a bitch.”

“Literally, from the rumors I’ve heard from Melinda.”

Mai tried a gentle smile, but Val was still angry as she looked up. Weeks later, and she was still furious at the dragon, Nathaniel, who had come to New Orleans specifically for the purpose of trapping her. Using seduction and magic to affect her will and defenses.

“Was it the glamour? Normally I’m safe, careful. Did that bastard magic me into forgetting myself?” Val asked, and pulled herself away from Mai.

Letting her arms drop to her sides, Mai took a step back. She thought for a few moments and gave a bare nod.

“Most likely. The glamour probably added to the excitement, the rush, and we know your judgment was affected.”

“Then he wanted this to happen.”

“No . . . well . . . maybe, but I doubt it. He wanted you, wanted to bed you. He pushed with his glamour for that. That is what you got caught up in. To think much past that might be his mother’s style, but as calculating and manipulative as he can be, he tends to focus on the short-term goal.”