I said nothing.
“Love is a human aspiration, and yours has been the dominant culture for so long that we want it, my sisters and I. We want it for our daughters. We don’t want to pay for a conjugal visit with someone else’s husband; we want to bring a husband home, and raise him in love, and see him grow to love his new family.” Brenna slanted a glance at me, as if gauging my reaction. “We’re not human. It’s not in us to give something for nothing. I know if our positions were reversed, I would feel for the daughters of Manhattan, and I would still demand payment. It would show their seriousness, and their dedication to taking care of our boy. Please. They know you. They’ll trust you. Please, help us.”
Candy didn’t necessarily trust me—she tended to view me as only temporarily outside the Covenant, which was an unfortunately common attitude in parts of the cryptid community—but William did, and money spoke loudly where dragons were concerned. I wanted to balk at the idea of selling a baby like it was a goldfish, but what other choice did the dragons have? Their species was on the verge of dying out. Male dragons were born the size of human infants. They could be moved while they were young. Once they became adults, like William, they were stuck.
“I’d need you, and at least one other representative from your Nest, to go to Manhattan with me,” I said slowly. “William and Candy will want to meet you. You’d have to be willing to pay for transport. There’s no way we’d be able to take the baby on a plane.”
“You may never hear these words from another dragon as long as you live, but: we are willing to pay whatever it takes,” said Brenna. “If you want to charge us a negotiation fee, we’ll give it to you. Even if things fall through, we’re willing to pay you for trying.”
The Be-Well Motel was visible up ahead, neon sign guttering like a bug zapper the size of a billboard. “I wouldn’t charge you for this,” I said. “Helping the cryptid community is my job.”
“Does that mean you’ll do it?”
My human sensibilities had their objections. I did my best to shunt them aside. Candy and I weren’t the best of friends, but her fierce devotion to her Nest, her husband, and her children was unquestionably sincere. If she and William were willing to agree to this, I had no place objecting to it—and that meant I also had no place refusing to set up the conversation.
“Yes,” I said. “I’ll do it.”
Brenna pulled up to the curb in front of the Be-Well and turned to look at me. Her eyes were bright with tears, catching and throwing back the neon glow until they glittered on her cheeks. “You don’t know how much this means to me,” she said. “We can never repay you.”
“We’ll figure something out,” I said. “I’m honestly glad to help.”
“Bring your boy by once the season’s over, and I’ll introduce you to my Nest,” she said. “Meanwhile, anything you need, you just let me know.”
I smiled. “Sure thing. It’s good to see you again, Brenna.”
“Likewise,” she said.
I slid out of the car, taking a deep breath of the fragrant evening air. The smell of the neighborhood had changed as we drove from the relative sterility of the studio housing into a rougher, wilder neighborhood. Garbage, rotting leaves, and urine—not all of it canine—addressed my nose, undercut by the ever-present scent of the sea. This was the Los Angeles I felt most at home in, the one where danger and elegance existed side by side, beautiful and terrible and dangerous.
Brenna leaned across the seat as I closed the door. She pressed a button to roll down the window, and asked, “You sure you’re all right to get yourself home again? You don’t want me to swing around and pick you up?”
“Tempting, but I need a good run if I’m going to get through tomorrow,” I said. “I’ll get myself home safe, I promise.”
“Anyone else, I’d call you a liar,” she said. “Be safe.” The window rolled back up, and she pulled away, leaving me standing alone on the sidewalk.