Page 1 of Dragons & Dumplings
Chapter one
Booths & Beginnings
Mei
Thelittlebelljingledas the diner’s door swung open with a blast of cold, November air, and I nearly dropped the plate of steaming dumplings I was holding when I saw the frost dragon standing in the doorway.
I stared, openly entranced. I had never seen one before. He stood a solid head and a half taller than my paltry five foot four, and he wore a tailored silver suit and button-up vest that looked very out of place in a casual diner. But it was his face that really drew my attention. He had white hair that could have been made of snow, and deep-set, glacial-blue eyes over sharp cheekbones and a jaw that could have been chiseled from an iceberg. His expression was so grim, that I couldn’t even picture him ever smiling. Ridged silver horns spiraled away from his hairline, just above his pointed ears, and pointed nails akin to claws tipped his smooth, uncalloused hands.
In other words, he was breathtaking.
He looked around slowly, taking in the retro 1950’s style counter and red vinyl booths without a single flicker of emotion on his icy features. And when the frost dragon slid into an open booth, the temperature in the diner dropped by at least 10 degrees.
His slit-pupiled eyes met mine, and I startled, flushing with embarrassment that he had caught me staring. “I’ll be right with you!”
Jolted into motion, I carried the plate of steaming dumplings I held to the witch and shadowmancer who had ordered them, while trying to get my heart rate to return to normal. I asked the shadowmancer quietly, “Is that a real ice dragon?”
The shadowmancer, Thorne, glanced over at him and nodded. “Definitely. Those horns plus the pale complexion? I’d wager he’s from one of the Northernmost fleets. Though it’s rare to see one venture this far south.”
Thorne had spent a good deal of time as an adventurer before settling down in Willowmere, and he possessed a wealth of information on most magical creatures—and their weaknesses.
His girlfriend and my new friend, Clove, raised an eyebrow. “Why do you look so unnerved?”
I lowered my voice and pretended to be organizing their condiments. “Because according to my parents, fire drakes like us don’t exactly get along with frost dragons in particular. The war between the fire drakes and frost dragons in China was the reason my parents fled their homeland in the first place.” I fingered my own red horns self-consciously.
“That’s all in the past though, right? Willowmere is a safe haven for every race of magical folk.” Clove’s turquoise eyes narrowed as she scrunched her nose.
“I sincerely hope so,” I mumbled, straightening my spine and my resolve. “All the same, it’s a good thing my parents are away at a conference right now.”
As far as I knew, there were no active draconic wars in America—but tensions between opposing elemental dragons were still high. I wasn’t sure how my parents would react to this sort of dragon waltzing into our diner, but I was glad I didn’t have to find out. I was determined not to make assumptions based on stereotypes, however, and while he was a patron here, I had no intention of being anything but courteous.
Grabbing a menu, I strode over to the newcomer and plastered my best customer service smile on my face. “Welcome to The Hearthstone Diner. My name is Mei, and I’ll be your server this evening. Can I get you something to drink while you take a look at the menu?”
“I’ll take an ice water.” His voice was cool and deep, like the depths of the ocean. I thought it sounded nice, until he looked me up and down and added, “If you can manage that without melting it all on the way.”
My warm smile turned rigid. Maybe therewasa good reason fire drakes hated frost dragons, after all. Even handsome ones. “Somehow, I think I’ll manage.”
I turned on my heel and tried valiantly not to stomp all the way to the kitchen. Was that dragon an asshole toallservice workers, or was I just special? I felt my body temperature rising along with my temper, and had to pause and take several deep breaths to calm myself down. Having my hair burst into flame would only prove his point.
I put some ice cubes in a glass of water, being careful not to actually melt them. I was torn between wanting to prove him wrong and melting them anyways out of sheer spite. But if my name was mentioned inanotherbad review of our little family diner, I would never hear the end of it from my parents.
So with a smile that most definitely didn’t reach my golden eyes, I returned to the frosty dragon’s booth and set the glass down with a flourish—ice cubes intact.
“What can I get for you?” I pulled out my notepad and pen, and refrained from adding a sarcasticYour Royal Highnessto my question.
He had the audacity to sniff, as if the menu chock-full of secret family recipes was cheap slop from a fast food joint. “I suppose I will try the Glacial Surf and Flamebroiled Turf—without the spice.”
I scribbled his order down and snapped the notepad closed so loudly that he actually flinched. “Coming right up.”
Why would he come to a fire drake-owned diner and ask for somethingwithout the spice?That was like going to a bakery to order a cupcake without the frosting! That would practically be just a muffin!
I returned to the kitchen and sidled up to Pyra, a fire sylph and the best chef in Willowmere—other than my mother, of course, who was currently swapping cooking tips at the conference with my father. Pyra was finishing up another batch of Dragonfire Dumplings, the diner’s most popular dish.
When I silently handed her the ticket, she did a double-take, her brows scrunching and flames springing to life in her hair. “Who the blazes orders somethingwithout spiceat a place like this?!”
“Thank you! That’s exactly what I was thinking!” I gestured animatedly, a habit I had picked up from my parents. “He’s some new drifter in town.”
I almost added that he was an ice dragon, but thought better of it. If Pyra knew, then it would only be a matter of time until my parents did, too. And although the frosty stranger was certainly rude, evenhewasn’t bad enough to warrant the firestorm of my mother’s disapproval.
