“You’ve only been here for four years,” Charlie sighed. “Four from thirteen is nine. Even if twenty-one is a step up from seventeen, nine is still more than seven.”

“I know that.” The pale jacket he’d made from the pile of old newspapers left on the roof had no pockets, so he added some and shoved his hands in them. “Dragons ace math.” He’d thought that maybe . . . “How did you know that’s what I meant?”

She shrugged. “First thing I thought of. What does essentially immortal mean?”

“Dragons are killed, usually by other dragons, but they don’t die. However, as all my uncles have pointed out, singly and collectively, there’s never been a half-blood before, so there’s no way of knowing for sure.” Someone hit their horn, someone else yelled abuse. Jack leaned out over the edge of roof and saw a group of teenagers flipping off an SUV speeding away down 13th. He didn’t get humans his age. They weren’t children, they weren’t adults, and they expected to be treated like both. No reason to drop a giant rock on them, though.

He turned back to Charlie to find her folding the quilt. Over the welcome return of her scent, the heavy knit sweater she wore smelled of Graham, and Jack smoked a little, unable to stop his reaction.

“If I took you back two years . . .” His teeth snapped together as he closed his mouth at her gesture. “If. Would the Court teach you?”

The protections around the Courts his uncles complained about had been put in place to keep the Dragon Lords out—there having been extended disagreements in the past on who the apex predators were. The Dragon Lords had been willing to fight it out, but to their surprise, the Courts had a well-honed sense of self-preservation tucked under their silken arrogance. Contact between the two races had been minimal for centuries. Minimal, and usually violent. “I don’t know,” Jack admitted reluctantly. “They don’t like us much. Dragons,” he added to be clear. “They don’t like the Dragon Lords much.”

“They don’t like Gales much either,” Charlie reminded him. “So, that’s a last resort. There’s plenty of the Court here, though. Wouldn’t hurt to check with them and see if they can stop it.”

Jack shook his head. “They won’t care. They can go home.”

“The full-bloods, sure, but would they be willing to open their lands to their descendants?”

“No.”

“So would they be willing to let their children and grandchildren die?”

“Yes.” When she looked startled, he shrugged. “They’re assholes, you know that. But there’s stuff about the MidRealm they like, a lot, that they won’t want to give up. Maybe that’ll be enough. If they do anything, if they can do anything,” he amended, “it’ll cost.”

“Doesn’t it always.” While they’d been talking, the air had warmed enough he could no longer see her breath when she sighed before saying, “We should at least check the price.”