“We’re not crazy, we just have different priorities,” I said. “You’re one to talk, you know. You’re the only dragon I’ve ever met who actually spends money on shoes.”
The word “dragon” hung in the air between us for a moment, silent and accusing. Finally, Brenna blinked, and said, “You know, no human has ever called me a dragon before. Not even you.”
“Times are changing,” I said.
Brenna smiled. “I guess so.”
I’d only been on the set of Dance or Die for a week before I’d realized Brenna Kelly was a dragon princess—the term we still used, out of long habit, for the female members of an extremely sexually dimorphic species. The males were giant, fire-breathing reptiles the size of a bus. The females were attractive, human-looking women with perfect skin, perfect hair, and a tropism toward amassing as much gold as possible. It was just that in Brenna’s case, she preferred her gold to take the form of sequins and shiny shoes. She was the only materialistic dragon princess I’d ever met, and I had liked her instantly.
Getting her to like me back had been a bit more complicated, since once I’d known what she was, I’d felt obligated to tell her what I was: a Price, a cryptozoologist, and a liar, appearing on the show under a fake name. She’d responded with “You’re a dancer first,” and I’d known we were going to be friends.
Her smile faded as she drove on. “So, Verity, I’m sure you were wondering what I wanted to talk with you about.”
“Not really,” I said. “You’re a dragon. I’ve never wanted to pry, but I assume you have a Nest?”
She nodded. “My sisters think I’m strange for enjoying spending money as much as I enjoy making it. As long as I give half my earnings to the Nest, they don’t mind so much. I make valuable connections they can exploit for a profit. There’s a lot of work for pretty girls who don’t want to be big stars in this town. We can always find another photo shoot or music video that wants a few of us for set dressing. Private parties, too. Not the sex kind—we avoid that sort of intimacy with humans—but the sort where we just need to wander around being decorative.”
“So I assume that when they heard there was going to be a reunion show, they pressed you to talk to me.” I paused. “Wait. Adrian said the reunion show was your idea. Did you . . . ?”
“Please don’t think badly of me. I just needed an excuse to talk to you without calling out of the blue, and I thought this might be a nice opportunity for you. Something I could do that wouldn’t cost us a lot of money. We’re hoping to need it very soon.” Brenna cast a quick, hopeful look in my direction.
I nodded slowly. “I can put you in touch with Candy. She’s William’s primary wife, and she’s handling all of the visitors who come to see him and discuss breeding.”
Brenna looked appalled. “What? No. I don’t want to borrow another woman’s husband. None of us are looking to become the other woman. We’re better raised than that. Our mothers saw to that.”
“Then what are you looking for?”
“I understand how this is going to sound, because you’re human, and your species has the luxury of doing things rather differently than ours.” That apologetic note was back in her voice. “There’s one male in the world. We didn’t think there were any, and while we can keep having daughters by ourselves forever, we require a male if we’re going to have any sons. William . . . when you found him, you opened the doors for our species to continue, for us to have a future. But that means we don’t have the option to be coy and demure.”
“Uh-huh . . .” I said, somewhat confused.
“You know the Manhattan Nest. Would you be willing to act as our go-between, to help us arrange the purchase of one of their sons?”
I said nothing.
Brenna, who was a dragon, no matter how human she sometimes seemed, said hurriedly, “We have money. We have oodles of money. There are over sixty of us in the Nest, and we’ve been in Los Angeles since the twenties. We own and rent property, we have investments, and we’re willing to liquidate as much as necessary in order to offer a fair price. Every Nest has its own strengths and weaknesses, and we’ve learned that you have to spend money to make money—that’s something a lot of dragons never grasp. So we have more funds on hand than most. We have sufficient space at the Nest to house a fully grown male, and we have all the deeds and property documentation to make sure he’d never have to be moved. We could be good wives, Verity. Not my generation, it’s too late for us, but our daughters. They could grow up with their husband. They could learn to love each other. We could give them that.”