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THE FACTS OF DRAGON LIFE
The next morning, Math had untangled himself from Bethany’s long, silky limbs and left her asleep in her bed, snagging a piece of cold pizza from one of the boxes on the coffee table as he let himself out. He puffed a wisp of dragonfire at the bottom of the slice to freshen it up and ate it on his way to his car.
The bubbling cheese seared the roof of his mouth, but he stuffed it in. He was starving for some reason, far more than usual, and was going to need the calories.
After parking his car on the roof of the casino’s structure, Math texted Bethany from it that he’d be back that night and to clear her schedule for the evening.
Then he ordered another two dozen roses to be delivered to her place right away, rush order.
Flowers weren’t enough.
He called a bakery in another of his company’s casinos, the Silver Horseshoe, and ordered a chocolate cake for delivery to Bethany’s place.
That seemed better.
Probably.
He tucked his cell phone into a special backpack with extra-long straps from the trunk of his car, packed with a change of clothes and a stick of deodorant. After a furtive glance around to make sure no one else was parking their car up there, he shucked his clothes from the night before—he hadn’t minded the walk of shame at all—and tossed them into his back seat before he locked the doors and dropped his car keys into the backpack.
The early morning sunlight warmed his dragon marking on his right side and ribs. The warmth felt good, like he could sun himself on a rock if he’d had time. Most dragons liked to bask, whether in human or dragon form, at least occasionally. That’s why Math had a bit of an all-over tan.
He looped the backpack around his bare arm and leaped for the sky. His golden dragon snapped into being, flying in the light of the morning sun. The backpack band fit snugly around his foreleg, and he stroked his wings in the air and flew.
He sailed for an hour or so to the hills above Los Angeles and alighted on the roof of an enormous house. A changing room held robes for dragons who hadn’t figured out the backpack trick yet. Math changed into his business suit from the backpack, which was a little wrinkled, and carried his laptop into the King and Queen’s abode for his scheduled meeting.
He paused on the way to call the Tiffany store in the Silver Horseshoe, ordering a platinum bracelet for Bethany. He stopped there only because he didn’t want her to have to tell him he was being creepy.
But he wanted to see somethingshinyon her.
His dragon rumbled, approving ofshiny thingson Bethany’s soft skin, before it coiled and slept again.
And now, on to the business meeting.
Forensic accounting had been one of Math’s specialties during his MBA. Other people hadn’t liked combing through spreadsheets and data to see how the thieving had happened, but Math walked the straight and narrow road for the businesses he managed.
He demanded that the dragon clan pay their contractors, vendors, and small businesspeople on time and in full. Those people had worked hard and fulfilled their ends of the deal. They deserved their money. Most of them were mom-and-pop outfits with just a couple or a dozen employees who also depended on those paychecks being cut on time and couldn’t wait a few more days for their money because the client hadn’t bothered to pay up yet.
That morning, he got to tell King Llywelyn that someone had been stealing from the dragon clan, which was why he’d flown back to the Californian dragon enclave to discuss the problem.
Bad news should be delivered in person.
They sat in King Llywelyn’s private office in the residence, a splendid space with sumptuous velvet curtains framing the wide wall of windows. The royal residence was built on a cliff overlooking the Pacific Ocean, and waves crashed on the boulders far below.
Math held his computer on his lap and told the old king, “Evidently, the Dragon’s Den Casino is in arrears with its vendors and contractors. They’re threatening to sue, and they would have an excellent case. Someone on the inside has been delaying payments to them, a tell-tale sign of malfeasance and unethical practices, and investing the capital that had been earmarked for those invoices. The invoices were paid months late, and the interest from the millions invested is simplymissing.”
“That’s horrendous,” the king said, shaking his head and glaring at the paper in his large, weathered hands.
“I can’t believe it, either,” Math said. “I can’t believe we didn’t catch them sooner.”
“It’s insane.”
“We need to institute fail-safes to keep this kind of theft from happening again.”
“Mathonwy, look at me,” King Llywelyn said.
Math looked up, startled. “What?”
The king scrutinized Math’s face, even leaning across his desk to get a better view of him. “You’re falling into mating fever.”
