Page 1 of Always Say Yes to a Dragon

1

Elle

The red dragon, Az’zael, was back, and he’d brought a friend—Niemrin, I assumed, based on the bright green scales. They wore the most ornate suits I’d ever seen, embroidered at cuffs and collars, as if to disguise the fact that they were both apex predators.

They were seated in my section. I forced myself to walk at a sedate pace to the hostess stand. Jen, a short, curvy Asian woman, was the hostess that day.

“Jen, what the hell?” I hissed.

She gave me an apologetic smile. “Sorry, Elle. Maya waited on the red one last week and dropped almost every plate and cup she touched. Cal served him the week before, and I thought he was going to have a panic attack right on the floor.” Maya and Cal were our two most experienced servers. “I’ve never seen you lose your cool with a customer, so…”

“So it’s my turn on dragon duty.” I tucked a stray hair back into my messy bun. “Okay. Fine, but ask the kitchen to put all their tickets through first.” I didn’t want to spend any more time than necessary with two dragons focused on me. Just the idea made my breath hitch and my pulse kick up.

Worse, I didn’t just have the same healthy fear my coworkers had. I kept finding my eyes inexplicably drawn to the fitted suits and glittering scales.

After several deep breaths in which I pretended I wasn’t about to talk to two beings who looked like holdovers from the Middle Ages (and topped seven feet), I approached the table, customer service smile fixed in place.

The first time Az’zael ate at Norma’s Kitchen, Jen and I had to scour the restaurant before finding a beat-up, uncomfortable-looking chair with slots cut out between the back and the seat to accommodate winged species. Someone else must have looked for the chairs today, because although Az’zael sat in that same chair, Niemrin perched on a barstool.

In their humanoid forms, dragons were an odd mix of lizard and human. Flat faces, slit nostrils instead of raised noses, narrow eyes, no discernible ears, and colored scales on every visible inch of their heavily muscled bodies.

I’d never seen their larger form up close. A month or so ago, one of them—Az’zael, I think; I’d caught a flash of red—flew over Norma’s Kitchen in his massive second form while Jen, Maya, and I were on break. Maya had been bitching at Jen over some petty bullshit when a shadow fell over us, and I ushered everyone inside. He was too high in the sky to notice us, but the shadow of a massive beast blocking out the sun while I was just going about my day was the most intense mixture of terrifying and comforting I’d ever experienced.

The dragons had the power to destroy us but had promised to protect instead.

Now, Az’zael’s eyes, with their unnerving cat-eyed pupils, tracked every step I took. Niemrin ignored me, speaking to his companion, every sharp tooth on sparkling display.

“Hi, welcome to Norma’s Kitchen. My name’s Elle, and I’ll be taking care of you today.” My words came out too fast, my heart beating in my throat. I took a deep breath. “Can I get you started with something to drink?”

“Rocket Science IPA.” Niemrin didn’t even look up from the stack of papers in front of him. Seemed they were here for a working lunch.

Az’zael’s slit-pupiled eyes tracked to my face and held. “I’ll have the PayCheck Pilsner, please.”

“Great, I’ll be right back with those.” I felt a flush creep up my cheeks. If one of the dragons had to be polite, did it have to be Az’zael? I found something about the deep red of his scales unnervingly compelling. Not to mention his intense gaze.

Which probably meant that Az’zael had a hair-trigger temper and would burn this place to the ground at a moment’s notice. Every man I’d ever been interested in, much less dated, had been a grade-A asshole.

“Thank you, Elle,” Az’zael said.

Something shivered over my spine and settled low in my belly. It should have been fear, what with Az’s intense gaze and the way he’d deliberately used my name, but it was warmer somehow.

Idiot. He’d eat you in one bite.

I scurried to the bar and breathed down the bartender’s neck while she poured the beers. Even though I had other tables, I didn’t dare leave those two waiting any longer than necessary. I didn’t know if dragons were patient, and I didn’t want to find out.

I could have sworn Az’zael’s eyes followed me. Sweat broke out across the back of my neck. What would he do if I took too long? Foolish images of intimate punishments—images I’d only let myself enjoy in the privacy of my own thoughts—flashed before my eyes.

I blinked them away. Juvenile fantasies aside, Az’zael and Niemrin had free rein to do whatever the hell they wanted in this city.

After years of trying to lure in a couple of dragons, Niemrin and Az’zael had “claimed” Kilinis as part of their hoard, and in exchange they acted as protectors. Their presence attracted investors, prestige, and interest that all fed back into the city.

Supposedly. Az’zael and Niemrin had claimed Kilinis eight months ago, so I was still in wait-and-see mode.

When I had the beers, I delivered them to the dragons’ table. “Here you are. Do you need a few more minutes to look over the menu, or are y’all ready to order?”

“I’ll take a burger,” Niemrin said, cradling his beer mug in one clawed hand. I’d thought a mug, with its thick walls and stout build, would be more appropriate for large dragon appendages than a regular glass, but it still looked comically undersized.

Az’zael pried his eyes off my face long enough to scan the menu. “What do you recommend?”

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