After the dark elves

Chapter 1

1      

“Here it is.” Nin smiled and spread an arm toward the front of the four-story, solid gray apartment building, her enthusiastic flourish making her purple pigtails bounce. 

“Uh.” I’m sure there were better words to describe my first reaction to the monolithic poured-concrete structure, but they eluded me. The sign above the double glass doors read Paradise Cove. Hah. “You said your friend owns this?” 

“And will give you a good deal on the rent, yes. He promised.” 

“How good of a friend is it? And did he pick it up at the same time as he purchased matching gulag barracks in Russia?” 

Nin’s brow creased. Maybe gulag hadn’t come up on her word-of-the-day apps when she’d been learning English. But as usual, she pieced together the meaning behind my sarcasm. “You do not like the style? I believe it is called brutalism. Is that not perfect for an assassin who brutalizes people for a living?” Her smile returned. 

“I’m a half-elf assassin. That means I like trees and leaves and nature and junk.” There wasn’t a single tree lining the busy street behind us, and the cars honking and buses rumbling past assaulted my sensitive ears. “Didn’t you say this is supposed to have a water view?” 

I turned to face a gas station across the street. Lake Union was in that direction, but I couldn’t see it through the blocks of intervening buildings. 

“Or was your friend referring to the pond-sized puddle that was blocking the exit of the alley where we illegally parked?” I shook off my still-damp boot. 

This was supposed to be my day off, and my therapist Mary had made me promise to relax. Hunting for an apartment in the overpriced Seattle area was possibly not the most relaxing thing I could have chosen. Just finding a parking spot around here was stressful. But I didn’t really know how to relax. Mary had suggested I get a massage but had been nonplussed when I’d asked if I had to take my weapons off for that. 

“Perhaps the lake is visible from the upper levels.” Nin reached up to pat my shoulder, avoiding the sword scabbard strapped to my back, Chopper’s hilt poking up behind my head. Since she was a quarter gnome, she could see the weapon. To most mundane humans, it was invisible unless I took it off. “Let us go inside,” she added. 

“That’s not necessary. Thanks, Nin, but this isn’t quite my style.” 

“But it is only two blocks away from Dimitri’s coffee shop. Now that you are a partial owner, it will be good for you to be close so you can keep an eye on everything. His soft opening is this week, remember.” 

“I remember. But my apartment in Ballard isn’t that far away.” The apartment my landlord had strongly suggested I leave, due to everyone from dark elves to orcs to government agents coming by this summer to ransack my unit. He didn’t even know my now-frequent visitor Zav—or Lord Zavryd’nokquetal, as his fellow dragons called him—was the one responsible for crushing the outdoor chairs on the rooftop deck on a regular basis. As Zav had informed me often, dragons landed where they wished. 

“Did you not say the rent is being increased?” 

“Yeah, and mine is going up a lot more than anyone else’s. The landlord wants me gone.” 

“I do not think it is legal to single out specific tenants to pay higher rent than others. Come, we have a meeting with Mr. Jeong, the superintendent.” 

Reluctantly, I followed her through the front door. 

Mr. Jeong, a thin man with white wispy hair ringing his bald pate, was as short as Nin. I felt like an ogre towering over them in the small, stark lobby. My senses told me that he didn’t have any magical blood, so he couldn’t see Chopper or Fezzik, the compact submachine pistol in my thigh holster. 

Even on days off, I rarely went anywhere without my weapons. In theory, there shouldn’t be anyone after me right now—we’d cleared the dark elves out of Mt. Rainier, and Zav’s sister and all the dragons who hated me for killing one of their kind had left Earth—but I had irked plenty of magical beings over my career, so I always felt like a walking target. 

Mr. Jeong greeted us politely and led us off on a tour of the building. 

“This is the recreation room.” He pointed through an open door to two Ping-Pong tables, a stained mustard-yellow couch, and a wood-framed tube TV that was as old as the building. “And the laundry room.” It featured dirty white coin-operated washers and dryers from the ’80s. One was shaking and rattling like a paint mixer as it crept away from the outlet restraining it by its power-cord leash. 

“And now I will show you to the available unit.” 

“Can’t wait,” I muttered. 

Nin frowned as she swiped a finger across a layer of dust covering a wall-mounted vending machine offering generic boxes of detergent for two dollars apiece. When she walked out, her shoe made a sticking noise as she passed over a suspicious dark spot on the cement floor. Maybe Paradise Cove wouldn’t meet her standards after all. 

Mr. Jeong led us through a fire door and into a cement stairwell more suited to a parking garage than a residence. 

“No elevator?” I asked. 

“No need. There are only four floors. You will get excellent exercise.” 

I shot Nin a dirty look as we climbed, imagining ascending with laundry baskets and arms full of groceries. 

“Perhaps if you got some roommates, you could afford to rent a house,” she suggested. “That is what I do. You have seen my house in Queen Anne. There is a fenced yard and a washing machine and dryer on the covered porch. It is very nice.” 

“I can’t have three roommates. I have to have privacy for my dragon visitor.” 

Mr. Jeong frowned back at us as he headed down a whitewashed hallway on the third floor. 

“I did not think he stayed over.” Nin raised her eyebrows. “But perhaps you could put a whiteboard on your door to leave messages or have a do-not-disturb magnet to alert your roommates.” 

“How very college dormitory.” 

Besides, Zav did not stay over. He visited to pick me up to go hunt villains out of town when he deemed my Jeep—my human conveyance—too slow. A couple of times, we’d hung out on the couch and I’d shown him the delights of Deadliest Catch and Ice Road Truckers, but he’d been clear that we couldn’t be romantically involved until I learned enough magic to protect myself from enemies who liked to compel me to attack him. 

Mr. Jeong unlocked a door and took us into a single room that served as the kitchen, living room, and dining room. “Here we are. The rent is very affordable. Only sixteen hundred dollars a month. No credit check required if you pay first and last months’ rent today.” 

“Is that not less than you pay for your current place?” Nin asked. 

“It’s the same, and my current place is a lot nicer.” Maybe not orders of magnitude nicer, but it was in a modern building with a parking garage and had a small balcony with room for a little table and two chairs. I walked to the window to see what kind of view there was. It looked out into the alley, right down onto the pond-puddle, my Jeep, and a giant trash bin overflowing with cardboard boxes. “Is there parking?” 

“There is street parking,” Mr. Jeong said. 

“Legal street parking?” I opened the window and poked my head out to make sure there wasn’t a ticket distributor in sight. 

“Many of our residents save money by not owning a car and using public transportation.” 

“That’s not going to work for me. I travel for work.” 

“We were told that there’s a water view,” Nin said to Mr. Jeong. 

“Yes. You can see the lake from the roof.” 

“Oh, is there a deck up there?” 

“No.” 

I rolled my eyes. “Nin, I’ve seen enough. I’m going to pass.” 

“We should at least check out the bedroom. Maybe there is a better view from there.” Nin looked around the apartment for a door leading to a bedroom. 

“It’s right here.” Mr. Jeong stepped forward to what I’d guessed were double doors to a closet and pulled down a Murphy bed. The previous renter had left the sheets. How thoughtful. 

“You’re right, Nin. The view from the bedroom is fabulous. It looks right at the refrigerator. Maybe I can stick some nice art on the freezer door.” 

Nin spread her arms. “The options in your price range are limited. The cost of housing is very high in Seattle. I know this because I am still saving to buy a home and bring my family over from Bangkok. I read an article that said the booming tech industry is responsible and that people are calling this the next San Francisco. This is problematic for anyone who is not in the tech industry.” 

“Tell me about it.” 

I sensed someone with magical blood walking through the alley below and looked out the window again to check. My hand strayed to Fezzik as I anticipated some threat. 

But it was a thin older woman packing a purse instead of a gun. Admittedly, the purse was large enough to carry a gun—and twenty boxes of ammo—but I doubted she was dangerous. She wore a slouch hat and a white T-shirt with a giant tarot card in the front. The orcs who liked to attack me usually favored black leather and metal. 

“Can you not take on more freelance work?” Nin asked. “Your duties for Colonel Willard do not take up all of your time, do they?” 

“Most of it. And helping Zav takes up the rest.” 

“Does he pay you to help?” 

“Dragons don’t have money.” 

Mr. Jeong was still in the room, and his eyebrows climbed at this second mention of dragons. 

“Val,” Nin said sternly. “That is unacceptable.” 

“I can’t help it. Zav isn’t in the tech industry either.” Besides, he’d promised he would soon take me through a portal to the elven home world to help me find someone to teach me magic. I could do pro bono work for a while if it led to me learning how to more thoroughly defend myself. “What is that woman doing?” 

Tarot Lady had stopped to cup her hands around her eyes and peer in the window of my Jeep. I’d left it partway down because it was a sunny August day, but she would need a coat hanger to unlock the door. Given the size of her purse, it was possible she had one. 

But what could she want? I hadn’t left my weapons or anything valuable in the Jeep. My camping and climbing gear were still in the back from my trip to Mt. Rainier, but they were twenty-year-old army surplus items, not hoity-toity REI finds that people might want to steal. 

My keys were in my pocket, so there was no way the woman could drive off with the Jeep, but I patted it to double-check. The government had lent me the vehicle. I could not let it be stolen. 

“Val?” Nin came over, but before I could point out the suspicious visitor, Tarot Lady opened the car door. 

“What the hell. I locked that!” 

I tried to open the window, tempted to take a shortcut down to the alley, but it wasn’t designed to open. Another checkmark against brutalism. 

Snarling, I sprinted for the door, nearly mowing over Mr. Jeong on the way out. If I lost that Jeep, I was screwed.

Chapter 2

2      

As I burst out the front door of the apartment building and sprinted up the sidewalk, I sensed Tarot Lady with her magical blood take off up the alley. On foot and not in my Jeep, I hoped. With the traffic zipping past on the busy street, I wouldn’t have been able to pick up the sound of the engine. Either way, she was moving fast. Had she sensed me? 

“Not how I imagined my day off,” I grumbled, running faster. 

When I raced around the corner, the Jeep came into view, still where I’d parked it behind the trash bin, but with the driver’s side and rear door wide open. The woman was sprinting up the alley, holding her slouch hat to her head as her big purse banged against her hip. I paused long enough to slam the doors shut—my camping gear had been rummaged through but was still there—and tore after her. 

Tarot Lady disappeared around a corner and onto the next block, and then I sensed her traveling upward. What was she doing? Climbing a building? 

Even though I could sense partial- and full-blooded magical beings, I couldn’t detect normal people, and when I charged around the corner, I almost ran into a woman walking her Doberman. The dog barked at me, and I veered abruptly to go around. My target was halfway up the side of a brick building, her large purse dangling as she climbed. Her hat and her pumps were in danger of falling off. 

The dog walker was staring at her, and I almost stopped and did the same. Tarot Lady had to be in her fifties and didn’t look remotely athletic. Was that elven blood flowing through her veins? She reminded me more of Nin, who was a quarter gnome. 

I’d climbed numerous buildings in my life, and I started up after her, using window frames and divots and cracks in the old brick facade for handholds. The dog walker pulled her phone out as she alternated gaping at me and at Tarot Lady. 

Who was she going to report us to? The police? The owner of the building? Cirque du Soleil? 

Tarot Lady reached the top and vaulted acrobatically onto the roof. Her hat tumbled off and fell toward me. I snatched it out of the air as she disappeared from view and stuffed it in my waistband. 

My fingers found holds that most people’s wouldn’t, and I reached the top of the three-story building seconds after my prey. She’d taken off toward a fire-escape door that should have been locked, but she waved her hand, and it opened before she reached it. 

Growling, I sprinted faster and caught her before she could descend more than a couple of steps into the interior. 

“Let go!” she cried, swinging her purse at me. 

I caught it before it could batter me—a good thing since it had the heft of a wrecking ball. 

“Not until you tell me who you are and explain why you were snooping in my Jeep.” 

I glared at her, then glared at the purse, though I was already starting to feel like a bully. Tarot Lady could have joined Mr. Jeong and Nin in the shorties club, and I could have picked her up and tossed her over my shoulder, purse included, without much trouble. 

“I’m Janice Lindberg, and because you’re one of his weird gang members.” She wrinkled her snub nose at me and tried to pull away. 

“What?” I’d been accused of a lot of things in my life. Running with a gang wasn’t one of them. “I think you’ve got me mistaken for someone else.” 

“No way.” She—Janice—tried to pull away again, but I easily restrained her. “You’ve been at that supposed coffee shop all the time, and I’ve seen you carrying in boxes.” 

Coffee shop? Was this about Dimitri’s new business? His coffee-stand-slash-yard-art-slash-alchemy-lotion shop? 

“At Dimitri’s?” Even if I possibly knew what she was talking about, I was puzzled. “The only boxes I carried in there were loaded with the parts for his new espresso machine.” 

Technically, it was a new-used espresso machine refurbished by Gondo, Willard’s new assistant who, like all goblins, fancied himself a tinkerer. 

“I’m sure that’s just a front. I work in the building next door, and I’ve seen the night-time deliveries.” 

I eyed her tarot-card shirt and returned her hat to her. “Are you the psychic?” 

“I run Star and Moon House, yes.” 

This time, when she tried to pull out of my grip, I let her. 

“I was working late last night, and my daughter came by. She was attacked right out front by a vampire.” Janice pronged two fingers into the side of her neck. “Don’t pretend you don’t know anything about it. You people are getting deliveries from a vampire. I can sense the potions in those boxes. That kid who rented the place is trouble. I could tell the day he walked into the building.” 

I rubbed the back of my neck. At six-and-a-half feet tall and with the build of a refrigerator, Dimitri did look like trouble, but he was a lot less likely to beat someone up than I was. He wouldn’t hurt anyone. Zoltan, his vampire alchemist partner, wasn’t exactly menacing either, but he did drink blood, as all vampires did. 

Had he been foolish enough to attack someone outside the shop? I’d always assumed Zoltan was subtle with his blood-sucking, slipping into his neighbors’ houses when they were sleeping and leaving them none-the-wiser, but I didn’t truly know him that well. 

Janice pointed a finger at my nose. “I’m going to get to the bottom of what’s going on over there, one way or another. I’ll not have a vampire attacking my children or clients or anyone else in the neighborhood, and I don’t want all those dirty goblins and orcs next door to my established, respectable business either.” 

I clamped my lips shut on an urge to point out that her bead curtains and window ledges lined with crystals and other woo woo knickknacks didn’t strike me as overly respectable. Dimitri didn’t need his friends picking fights with his neighbors. 

Janice waved her finger. “Watch out. If you’re involved, I’ll find out about it, and I’m not afraid to call the police. If I have to, I’ll call that special army facility that assassinates magical criminals in the city.” 

I almost laughed, since I worked for that facility and was the assassin, but if the woman’s daughter truly had been attacked, I didn’t want to make light of it. If Zoltan had been responsible, I’d clobber him myself. 

“Is your daughter okay?” I asked. 

She squinted at me, as if suspicious of the inquiry. 

“I took her to the ER. Her neck was cut up, and she broke her wrist when she tried to fight him off. If I hadn’t come out there with Boomer, it could have been a lot worse.” 

“Boomer? A gun?” 

“My softball bat. I about took that jerk’s head off. Don’t judge me for being small. I had thirty-four home runs last year on our team.” 

“Did you get a good look at the guy? Are you sure it was a vampire?” 

“I saw his fangs, and I sensed him. I know a vampire when I see one, the filthy scum.” 

“What did he look like? Besides the fangs?” 

“He had a ski cap on that covered his face. I didn’t see anything except a flash of blood-stained fangs. Fangs stained with my daughter’s blood.” 

Did Zoltan own a ski cap? He usually answered his laboratory door in an old-fashioned suit and bow tie, so it was hard to imagine him flirting with active wear. But how did I know he didn’t have a stash of ski masks for going out in search of his meals? 

“What time was it last night?” I asked. “Do you remember?” 

“Ten. Like I said, I stayed late for a client, and she’d just left.” Her tone turned anguished as she added, “My daughter was bringing me a frittata. She’s a chef at Bella e Buona.” 

“I’ll look into it. I’m sure Dimitri had nothing to do with it. He’s a good guy.” 

Janice was shaking her head before I finished the sentence. “Tell him to keep his grubby gang members away from my building.” She backed down the stairwell. 

I let her go but couldn’t help but call after her, “I’ll tell him that if you stay out of my Jeep. My locked Jeep. I don’t keep vampire paraphernalia in there, I promise.” 

She turned and fled. 

Sighing, I leaned against the doorjamb. Maybe investing in Dimitri’s new shop hadn’t been a good idea. I’d only opted in because Nin had gotten involved and she had a proven track record for starting businesses. But she also had never hired or partnered with any vampires before. 

As I was debating whether to follow Janice down the stairwell or go back the way I’d come, my phone buzzed. Dimitri’s name popped up. 

“Are your ears burning?” I answered. 

“What?” Clangs and the noise of a dozen conversations made it difficult to understand him. 

“Never mind. We need to talk. Are you at the coffee shop?” 

“I’m at the yard-art store, yes. But Val, we need to talk.” He either hadn’t heard me, or he agreed emphatically. “I’ve got a problem.” 

“According to your neighbor, you are the problem.” 

“What?” he asked again, raising his voice. 

“I’ll explain later.” 

“I need your help. My barista and I may be in danger.” A crash sounded in the background, and Dimitri groaned. “At the least, my art is in danger. You’re my security expert. Are you coming?” 

“I’m coming.” I hung up and shook my head. What had happened to my day off?

Chapter 3

3      

Hoping we wouldn’t run into Janice Lindberg again, I parked the Jeep near Dimitri’s new business. Nin came with me instead of going back for the lunch rush at her food truck. When I’d relayed the neighbor’s story and Dimitri’s call, she’d been concerned. 

“There are so many magical beings here,” Nin whispered as we walked up to the old yellow house that had long ago been converted to a commercial property. 

It didn’t have official signage yet—the last I’d heard, Zoltan and Dimitri and Nin were arguing over names—but a piece of paper in the window proclaimed it was the soft opening for Fremont’s newest and best source for YARD ART AND HEALING TINCTURES (that was in all caps and on the top) and coffee (that was scrawled in tiny writing at the bottom). 

“It is somewhat alarming.” I’d sensed the numerous magical beings before we’d gotten out of the Jeep, the auras of at least two dozen goblins, shifters, ogres, trolls, and kobolds. It reminded me of walking into the now-closed Rupert’s bar on Capitol Hill. I hoped there wouldn’t be axe-throwing inside here, though that would have explained the crash I heard over Dimitri’s phone. 

Nin and I paused at the bottom of the steps leading to the front door. The ogres I’d sensed were visible through the recently cleaned window, their broad shoulders and shaggy yellow-haired heads surrounding the espresso cart. They had better not be harassing the young woman Dimitri had hired to make coffee. 

A thump sounded inside, followed by raised voices. 

“Put that down!” Dimitri ordered. 

“Perhaps we should call for backup,” Nin said. “I did not bring any weapons.” 

“Do you have backup?” 

“Usually, you. But you know a dragon. Can you call Lord Zavryd?” 

“I was working late with Lord Zavryd last night to capture three orcs who had the bright idea of blowing up a country bridge and ambushing cars full of people after they tumbled into a ravine. The orcs claimed they only needed money, but they happened to be killing people with their scheme. Apparently, this wasn’t the first world where they’d done this. Zav insisted that we catch them in the act, so he could be sure they were the orcs on his list, which involved me pretending to stumble into their trap and fall into the ravine myself. Here’s a tip for you. You can’t pretend to fall into a ravine without actually falling into it. Luckily, I landed in a creek full of wet boulders that softened my fall.” I rubbed the lingering bruises on my backside, glad for my body’s faster-than-average healing ability. “After getting back late, I told Zav I was taking today off and didn’t want to deal with bad guys or dragons.” 

Nin gazed blandly at me as I relayed this story. “So, you cannot call Lord Zavryd?” 

“No. It’s not like he has a cell phone anyway.” 

Another crash came from inside, followed by swearing. 

“Then we will have to be diplomatic.” Nin lifted her chin. “I will go first.” 

“Good idea. You know how I handle diplomacy.” I loosened Fezzik in my thigh holster and followed right behind her in case her tongue wasn’t as smooth as she thought. 

We stepped into the front room of the shop and found it much more crowded than expected considering we hadn’t done any advertising yet. All of the visitors were magical, either full-blooded or half-blooded. Dimitri, with his one-quarter dwarven blood, had the least noticeable aura of anyone inside. 

There were only four tables, all up front and near the espresso stand, and they were all taken. Elsewhere, ogres, trolls, and shifters sat on display cases or lounged against curio cases full of Dimitri’s up-cycled decor and Zoltan’s alchemical tinctures. Several shelves and pieces of yard art and housewares had been knocked to the floor. Dimitri was running around with a dustpan and a broom that he was using like a halberd to push customers away. They all had coffee mugs or paper cups in hand, so they had to be customers. 

“Val!” Dimitri blurted when he spotted me, then raised his voice to address the room. “The Ruin Bringer is here!” 

I groaned as more than two dozen sets of eyes swiveled toward me. 

“If you fight,” Nin said, “lure them outside so they do not damage the premises.” 

“I thought we were going to be diplomatic.” 

“I will be diplomatic with the ones who don’t attack you. We will know those are the reasonable customers and worth keeping.” 

Why did everyone want to use me as bait? 

Nin stepped out of the way as chairs scraped on the battered hardwood floors and magical beings rose to their feet. A nearby shifter lifted his face and sniffed the air in my direction—I was pretty sure I recognized him as a werewolf from Gregor’s Gang and wondered what had brought him all the way from West Seattle. 

“It is true,” the werewolf said, lifting his hands toward the rest of the gathering, a gathering that was now poised to spring in my direction. “I’d heard rumors, but I didn’t believe them.” 

I’d been about to dart outside, as Nin requested, but I paused on the threshold and raised my eyebrows. 

“She is marked,” the werewolf said. “She has been claimed by the dragon that has been flying around Seattle.” 

I groaned as more sets of nostrils lifted into the air, sniffing. Others simply nodded. 

“You can sense his aura on her.” 

“Everyone, sit down,” the werewolf said. “It would be suicidal to attack the mate of a dragon.” 

Just as I was thinking that I’d be able to walk in without a fight, an ogre with a coffee mug in one big hand and a half-eaten king-size Hershey bar in the other plunked down his snacks and stepped toward me. “Trogg is not afraid of a dragon. Trogg would have much status among his people if he slew the Mythic Murderer.” 

His head almost brushed the ceiling, and his sleeveless hide vest revealed bulging shoulders like boulders as he looked me up and down. He pulled a spiked club out of a sling on his back and hefted it like a cartoon character from the Flintstones. 

“Trogg might be made chief.” 

“Trogg might find out if ogre corpses fit in the city morgue,” a goblin seated at a table with his kin said with a snicker. There were three other goblins with him and no fewer than twelve espresso cups between them. Gondo had mentioned that his people enjoyed coffee. 

The ogre curled a lip to sneer at the goblins, but he took another step toward me. Though tempted to draw Fezzik, I didn’t want to shoot up the business I was a partial owner in. 

“Did he pay for his coffee?” I asked Dimitri, wondering if this guy was an actual customer or a thief who had been wrecking his art and bullying the help into giving him food. 

Dimitri glanced at the wide-eyed barista. She nodded. 

Hell, I didn’t want to eviscerate paying customers. 

Trogg lumbered toward me with his club raised and scraping the ceiling tiles. A few of them crashed down behind him, and Dimitri groaned. 

I jumped out of the doorway and down the stairs, landing in a crouch on the walkway, with Chopper in hand. Movement to my left caught my eye. Janice was walking up the sidewalk and gaping at me. Oh, fabulous. 

Trogg rushed down the stairs, swinging his club, and I had to focus on defending myself. 

More than a dozen of the other patrons ran out to watch—and make bets. Money changed hands faster than tickers updating on the stock exchange. 

The ogre feinted at me a few times with his club before committing to a massive downward swing at my head. I sprang to the side before he could nail me into the pavement, then swept Chopper back toward my opponent. The magical blade flared blue and sliced through the club with only the slightest sensation of impact. 

I darted past the startled ogre and kicked him in the back of the knee. His leg bent, and he stumbled forward, not quite face-planting. The second kick went to his butt and caused him to topple. 

A familiar aura came within range of my senses—I almost missed it due to the auras of so many magical beings nearby, but this was a very powerful and very distinct aura. Zav. 

Trogg staggered to his feet. 

I pointed my sword at him. “Dimitri’s is a peaceful gathering place.” We needed to come up with a better name for the shop. “If you can’t keep your weapons holstered, you can stay out of here.” 

Trogg growled, clenched the remains of his club, and crouched like he would spring. A shadow fell over the sidewalk, a great winged shadow. Several of the magical beings who’d been watching scattered, leaving their beverages behind to flee. Others gaped up at the huge black dragon soaring into view, their eyes mesmerized. 

Inside the doorway, Nin gave Dimitri a high-five. Nin appeared ecstatic at this development. Dimitri watched Zav’s landing dubiously. 

As he dropped down beside me, Zav shifted into his human form, his black robe, trimmed beard and mustache, and short dark hair impeccable, as always. He slipped an arm around my waist and gazed at Trogg, who’d frozen in his crouch as he gaped at us. 

“I am Lord Zavryd’nokquetal, and this is my female.” Zav’s voice rang out as if he had an amplifier. His power crackled over me, and as always, I had to resist the urge to stare at him, as mesmerized as the onlookers. “You dare lift a weapon in her presence?” 

“I’m handling it,” I whispered to Zav. “Why don’t you go inside and get a coffee?” 

But Zav was focused on the ogre, his eyes flaring with violet light, indignation on his handsome but oh-so-haughty face. His muscled arm was tight and possessive around me. As much as I appreciated having him as an ally, this was entirely unnecessary. I’d been handling the situation. 

Trogg looked at his stump of a club and tossed it aside. Zav used magic to knock him off his feet. 

The ogre pitched forward to his hands and knees and stammered, “Trogg sorry, Lord Dragon. Trogg didn’t know.” 

“You’re sorry, Lord Zavryd’nokquetal.” 

I swatted Zav on the chest. “I told you. Nobody can pronounce that.” 

Occasionally, Zav let out a hint of his sense of humor, such as it was, but this wasn’t one of those times. 

“How did you not know, ogre? My mark on her is clear. You are not fit to speak to the mate of a dragon, and if you ever raise a weapon to her again, I will punish you until you wish you were dead.” 

“Trogg won’t.” He tried to get to his feet, but Zav’s magic held him prostrate. 

“Don’t be a bully.” I elbowed him in the ribs. “Let him go.” 

Zav turned his glowing-eyed gaze on me, but I refused to look away or be intimidated. 

None shall raise a hand against you, he spoke silently into my mind, unless they want me as an enemy. My mark tells them this. The ogre sensed it, but he chose to ignore it. Do you deny this? 

No, I don’t, but he’s an idiot, and I was handling it. Let him go. I’ll buy you a coffee. 

If the goblins hadn’t consumed it all. 

Zav’s eyes narrowed. Was he going to ignore me and magically beat the snot out of the ogre? How did I convince him that I could take care of myself and didn’t need an overprotective boyfriend around? Especially since we weren’t even having a romantic relationship, aside from a few wayward kisses that we’d both agreed were a bad idea. 

Funny how I forgot just how bad of an idea they were when he was standing next to me, his body pressed against mine and his electric power tingling all along my nerves. Even if I could take care of myself, there was a tiny part of me that was thrilled that Zav wanted to protect me. 

You are unharmed? he finally asked. 

Yes. 

And you do not wish him punished for his presumptuousness? 

No, I don’t. 

Very well. Zav twitched an eyebrow, and the magic pinning Trogg to the ground disappeared. 

The ogre sprinted away without looking back. About a dozen onlookers remained, staring at Zav and me. 

You can also let me go, I added. 

He was gazing down at me with a look that suggested he had something besides coffee in mind. I remembered it well from the hot tub, but even if I’d been in the mood to test his resolve about not having a relationship with me right now, I wouldn’t have done it in front of a crowd. 

Or does vanquishing my attackers get you randy? I cocked an eyebrow, figuring sarcasm was the way to dissipate amorous feelings. It had always worked with my human boyfriends. 

Holding you and having your soft parts pressed against me makes me randy. He looked down at my chest. 

A part of me was titillated that he felt that way, but… 

Then we should probably avoid such compromising positions. 

Yes. Zav took a deep breath and his arm loosened around me, but he let his fingers drag as he slowly withdrew, and a tingle of magic flowed from the tips. That ignited my nerves even more than the powerful magic of his aura, and I almost forgot about my resolve not to engage in a make-out session in front of a crowd. 

“If you’re going to use your magic on me like that,” I murmured, “we better find an elf to teach me how to defend myself soon.” 

His eyes flared again. “Yes. I have apprehended many of the criminals hiding here on your world and turned them over to the Dragon Justice Court.” He lifted his chin. “Soon I will take you to Veleshna Var to see your father, and we will find an elf who will instruct you on your inherent powers.” 

I bit my lip, far more pleased by his willingness to take me to meet my father than any of his posturing toward my enemies. “Good. Thank you.” I stepped away from him, so neither of us would be further tempted toward hanky-panky, and gestured toward the front door. “Coffee?” 

“What is coffee?” 

“A beverage. Lots of people love it.” 

“Do you?” 

“No. It tastes like burnt water to me, but I’m told I’m weird.” 

He gazed at me, and the first hint of humor entered his eyes. “Yes. This is true.”

Chapter 4

4      

Dimitri had already cleaned up a lot of the broken housewares, so the shop wasn’t too much of a mess inside, other than abandoned mugs and napkins left on tables, shelves, and display cases. But there was a weird scent in the air that I couldn’t blame on the espresso maker. 

“Did something spill?” I wrinkled my nose and looked at Dimitri. “Something toxic?” 

“Several of Zoltan’s products were knocked off shelves.” Scowling, Dimitri stalked toward a back corner with his broom and dustpan. 

“That’s probably a yes, then.” My nostrils twitched, and I hoped the spilled potions didn’t set off my sensitive lungs. It was my day off. I wasn’t supposed to need to use my inhaler on my day off. My lungs were relaxing, just like I was. 

“They’re not toxic.” Dimitri bent and picked up a lid with a beige smear of goop under it; it was all that remained of a ceramic jar. “This is a healing lotion for your face. It’s supposed to make those dark circles under your eyes go away.” 

“I’ve heard sleeping straight through the night does that too, but I wouldn’t know.” 

“Tam.” Dimitri turned toward the barista. “Can you get a mop?” 

The barista had been staring at Zav, who’d trailed me into the shop, with wide eyes. She scurried into the back, appearing relieved at the order to leave the room. 

Tam worked for Nin in the afternoons and evenings and had a hint of magical blood, so she must have met some of Nin’s magical clientele—those who purchased her weapons rather than her food-truck fare—but a dragon was above and beyond the norm. 

“What happened, Dimitri?” Nin peered around, her gaze pausing on the single table that hadn’t been vacated. The four goblins were still there, and a new one had come in. Gondo. “Why did all those magical beings come here and make a mess?” 

“I don’t know. I just opened yesterday, and this week is supposed to be a trial run. Other than putting out a sign, I’ve hardly told anyone about it. I thought it would be a challenge to get business, but they all showed up early this morning and have been coming for hours.” Dimitri shook his head as he swept. “Coming for coffee, I should say. None of them wanted Zoltan’s tinctures or my housewares. That was the whole point of us opening this business. I don’t even know how they found out about this place.” 

My gaze shifted back to Gondo. “I may have an idea.” 

Dimitri was sweeping up broken ceramic and didn’t hear me. “Can you come by a few times a day to loom threateningly with your sword, Val? Now that you kicked that ogre’s butt—literally—the others should know to leave you alone. Especially if you smell like dragon.” 

Zav had been silent, either ignoring the exchange or deeming it unworthy of his participation, but his chin rose at this. “Neither a dragon’s aura nor mark smell. It is a magical emanation that those with attuned senses can detect.” 

“Don’t be offended by Dimitri,” I told Zav. “He’s not very smooth. He just told me I have bags under my eyes.” 

I headed over to the chattering goblins. One was standing on his seat, which almost made his head level with mine, and speaking in his native language while gesticulating expansively to his buddies. 

Goblins were always expansive and perky, but this fellow was extra amped up. The others were bouncing and jittering too as they listened raptly, one thumping a wrench on his thigh. Another was building what looked like a rubber-band ball during the discussion. Gondo was sipping from a mug, relatively calm compared to the others, but he’d only just arrived and was on his first cup. 

“Willard doesn’t have any work for you today, Gondo?” I didn’t bother to activate my translation charm, not particularly wanting to solve the mystery of what goblins discussed with each other while amped up on coffee. 

“She said I’ve already done all I need to do for her today and that I should go out into the community and gather intelligence for her. She also forbade me from touching her paper shredder again, even though I added power to the motor and quadrupled its capacity to shred.” 

“She didn’t like that?” 

“It’s a little noisier than it was before. I believe it disturbed her phone call in the other room.” 

“Are you the reason all these interesting beings came to visit today?” I waved toward where the ogres, trolls, and others had been. 

Only Zav was in that area now. He was examining some of Dimitri’s housewares, but there was a bored glaze to his eyes. I assumed he hadn’t flown in solely to protect me from posturing ogres and was surprised he hadn’t yet stated what he wanted. Being circumspect, polite, and patient wasn’t his way. 

“I may have mentioned to a few people that I refurbished the espresso maker for a new establishment that would be friendly to magical beings.” Gondo tilted his head, his thick white hair in a tousled nest. “Didn’t you wish me to spread the word?” 

One of the jittery goblins bobbed his head and sipped from a mug with a grin and a wink. 

“Not to ogres and trolls and werewolves.” I glanced at Nin, who’d come over to listen. 

“Why not?” Gondo asked. “They consume a great deal of food and beverages. You should add sandwiches to the snack bar there. Ogres like giant triple-decker sandwiches with big piles of meat and bacon and rosemary.” 

“Rosemary?” 

“It’s an ogre favorite.” 

Nin took out her phone. My first thought was that she meant to call the police, but she started tapping notes into a text app. 

“What are you doing?” I whispered. 

“Making sure we stock the inventory our customers want.” 

“I’m positive that Dimitri doesn’t want his customers to be ogres.” 

“The magical community needs a place to congregate now that Rupert’s is closed,” one of Gondo’s buddies said. 

I shook my head. “Unless ogres need tinctures for their under-eye bags—” 

Nin stopped me with a hand on my forearm. “We should discuss this with the other owners before ruling out who we want as clients.” 

“I doubt Zoltan is going to agree to huge brutes who smash his wares, and he’s the only owner who isn’t here right now.” 

Nin pointed to a tip jar full of dollars on the espresso cart. “If they pay and can be convinced not to destroy anything, we will accommodate them. I believe this morning’s problems are due to a narrowness of aisles between display cases and shelves.” 

Before I could reply, Zav strode up to us, looming behind Nin. Almost everyone loomed in comparison to Nin, but his approach unnerved all of the goblins except for Gondo. They scattered, leaving their partially consumed coffees behind. Gondo merely scooted his chair back. 

“I will speak with you,” Zav told me. 

Apparently, his period of standing politely to the side and waiting for me to finish was over. 

“I told you last night that this is a day off for me, and I’m not going to do any research for you or come along to be bait for an ambush. You and Willard have been running me ragged for two weeks straight. Besides, I need to speak with Dimitri about a vampire issue.” I plucked one of the almost-full coffee mugs off the table and placed it in Zav’s hands. “Here, try this.” 

His nostrils twitched as he stared down at the dark liquid. I squeezed past and caught Dimitri on his way to empty a dustpan. 

“Hey, was Zoltan here last night?” I glanced out the front window. The psychic’s shop wasn’t visible from here, but she was visible, standing out on the sidewalk and speaking into her phone. 

Even though our dubious customers had dispersed, Janice didn’t look happy. If Dimitri’s shop truly did end up as a hangout for the magical, he would have to figure out how to put an illusion of some kind over it to hide it from the non-magical. Unfortunately, that would mean regular people wouldn’t notice it or come in to buy his wares, but this was too busy an area for mundane people not to notice all the strange beings through the windows. 

“Zoltan doesn’t come here.” Dimitri emptied the dustpan in a trash bin and frowned. “But he’s started putting barcodes on all of his stock to track it, so he’s going to find out stuff was destroyed today.” 

“Are you sure he doesn’t come here and wasn’t visiting around ten last night?” 

Dimitri stopped to face me. “He doesn’t leave his carriage house except to feed, and he prefers local blood.” His lip twitched in distaste. “He had a delivery sent last night, but he pays someone to pick up his shipments.” 

“I ask because your psychic neighbor got in a skirmish last night with a vampire in a ski mask. Her daughter was bitten and had to go to the ER.” 

“A ski mask? That’s not Zoltan’s style.” 

“You don’t think he would adjust his style if he had a mission that was important to him?” 

“Mauling a girl in Fremont also isn’t his style. You can’t trust anything Lindberg says. She’s a flake. She believes all that psychic stuff and tries to sell it to people at ridiculous prices. She wanted to read my palm for ninety-nine dollars.” 

“She talks to you? She thinks you run a gang.” 

“Now maybe. She came over a few times when I was first moving stuff in and cleaning this place out. She wanted to put brochures for her business by my cash register. It wasn’t until our first customers started showing up that she stopped talking to me.” 

“Have you had any trouble with her?” I waved toward the window, though Janice was no longer in view. “Anything you’ve told Zoltan about that he might have taken into his own hands?” 

Dimitri shook his head. “You’ve got the wrong vampire, Val.” 

“If that’s the case, we may have a problem.” 

How well would Dimitri’s business fare if the word got out that a vampire was attacking people on the sidewalk out front? 

“That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you. Though now it sounds like we’ve got two problems. Ogres like bulls in a china shop and a proliferation of vampires.” His gaze shifted past my shoulder, and he lowered his voice to mutter, “Maybe three problems.” 

I sensed Zav behind me before I turned. Dimitri mumbled something about taking out the trash and disappeared into the back. 

“This is loathsome.” Zav held up the coffee mug. 

“I agree. I don’t get the appeal.” As I looked down at the mug—interestingly, he’d consumed half of it before reaching his decision—I noticed he wasn’t wearing his usual slippers. His tidily trimmed toenails were on display in a pair of double-strap Birkenstock sandals. “You’re experimenting with footwear again?” 

“A sign at a local mercantile proclaimed that these were comfortable, unlike the boots, and that my feet would not grow unpleasantly warm, as they did in the high-tops. The merchant assured me that they are not gay.” 

“I’m not entirely positive that’s true.” I rubbed my face. I couldn’t believe Zav was still worried about his slippers. It had been weeks since that dummy at the ice cream shop had snubbed them. “But now, you’re more likely to be mistaken for a cultural studies professor at the U.” 

“I am well-educated and could teach on any number of subjects. I know much about the cultures of lesser beings throughout the Cosmic Realms.” 

“I guess those could be right for you then. I can’t promise they won’t get as many comments as the slippers.” 

“Only a fool dares make derogatory comments about a dragon’s attire.” Despite the words, Zav looked down as if considering the choice anew. 

Dimitri returned from the back and would have slipped past, but I caught his arm and pointed to Zav’s feet. “We’re having a debate. Are these something a modern, uhm, masculine guy would wear?” 

“Well, those aren’t feminine, and ugly-chic is in again, so I guess.” Dimitri glanced at Zav’s face and hurried past. 

“Ugly-chic?” Zav squinted suspiciously at Dimitri’s retreating back. 

I grinned at Zav and patted him on the arm. 

He returned his focus to me, glancing down at my hand on his sleeve. At first, I thought he would object to me presuming to touch him, but he laid his hand on mine, fingers stroking my skin and making me forget all about sandal fashion. Maybe menacing my enemies did make him randy. 

“Can you sense any vampires in the area?” I changed the subject since this wasn’t the appropriate place for randiness. 

“I did not come here to discuss vampires or footwear.” 

“Is that a no?” I knew one wouldn’t be out in daylight, but the fanged ski-mask wearer could be holed up in a nearby basement. 

“I do not sense a vampire. Val, I am pleased that you have assisted me with capturing several criminals and returning them to the Dragon Justice Court for punishment and rehabilitation.” His eyelids drooped, so that he was gazing at me through his lashes. “You vexed those orcs very much. And you know it pleases me when you vex my enemies” 

“Yes. You’ve told me that before. I have to admit, I like it that you like it.” 

“I must check in with my family today, but tomorrow, I will take you to the elven home world of Veleshna Var.” 

“You’ll what?” 

“Did you think I would not fulfill my promise?” 

“No, but I figured it would be after you’d collected all of your criminals.” 

“I have caught up with my brother, so I can take a short break.” His eyes narrowed, and he lifted his hand to the side of my face, fingers sliding through my hair. The power of his aura—of him—wrapped around me, and a buzz of energy raised gooseflesh all over my body. “Also, I do not want to wait until I have completed my entire assignment to tysliir with you.” 

“My translation charm isn’t active,” I murmured. 

My gaze caught on his mouth, a mouth not that far from mine, and the urge to lean into him came over me. A vague notion that we were in full view of the rest of the shop kept me from doing exactly that while asking for more details. 

“I want you in all ways that a dragon takes a mate.” He shifted closer, his chest close to mine, and the power of his aura made my knees weak. “Your kin will teach you how to defend your mind in the elven way, and then I will claim you with more than magic.” 

“I’m agreeable to that, but in a bedroom, not a coffee shop.” I rested a hand on his chest, intending to push him away, since I was sure the others were watching us, but Zav leaned in closer and kissed me. It was a smoldering kiss that made me forget about pushing him away—and forget there were witnesses—and I found myself crushed against his hard body as his other arm wrapped around my back. 

I will claim you where I wish, he informed me telepathically as his mouth slid against mine, his power flooding my body with heat and desire. And you will find it too pleasing to object. 

You better wish it in a bedroom, I replied in my mind, my lips too busy for talking, because we’ve both learned that assassins lurk in public places. 

He broke the kiss, and I regretted the words. I knew his history and how real a threat assassins were to him and his family. 

Assassins can also lurk in bedrooms, he informed me. 

I know. I’m sorry. But there won’t be any in one we share. I’ll have Sindari stand guard outside to make sure. I could imagine how delighted Sindari would be with that task, but I didn’t take back the words. Zav had still never delved into my thoughts—never scoured them as other dragons had—to learn what I was truly thinking, but he seemed to trust me now. I didn’t want to do anything to change that or make him doubt me. 

Good. If the tiger is wise, he will ensure nothing interrupts our first mating. Or the thousands that will follow. 

Thousands, huh? 

Thousands. His smile was cocky as he gazed into my eyes, but as he slid his hand from around my back, his fingers trailing across the thin material of my shirt, he teased me with his magic again, magic that lit up my every nerve. We will battle by day and mate by night. This is how it will be. 

Our kiss hadn’t lasted that long, but I was breathless as he walked away. I groped to fight off the disappointment of his touch, magical and otherwise, leaving me. 

Tomorrow, he spoke into my mind as he walked out the door, we will go to see your people. 

Thank you. 

Nin, Dimitri, and Gondo were watching from the espresso stand, the very witnesses I’d expected. As Gondo sipped his coffee and smiled, I remembered that he was Willard’s informant now. News of the public kissing display would probably get back to her. Oh, well. She was rooting for a half-elf–dragon wedding, anyway. 

“I can tell this is going to be my most interesting business,” Nin said. 

My phone buzzed. My daughter’s name showed on the display along with a text. 

Are we still on for sword-fighting lessons? 

I winced because it was later than I’d realized. I’d either been caught up in the new vampire problem—all of Dimitri’s problems—or that kiss had gone on longer than I’d realized. 

Yes. I’ll be right there.

Chapter 5

5      

We met at Yost Park, not far from Thad’s house in Edmonds. It was close enough that Amber could ride her bike over—though she complained vehemently about the hills along the way—so I wouldn’t have to pick her up. As far as I knew, Thad was still dating Shauna, AKA “the girlfriend,” a woman who had made it clear she found me loathsome and a threat, so I didn’t want to show up at their house or interact with Thad in any way that might make her jealous. I didn’t think she was a good match for him and hoped he dumped her of his own accord, but I wouldn’t do anything to prompt that. 

“Wooden swords?” Amber eyed the practice weapons I carted out of the Jeep. “I was hoping to poke you with something sharper.” 

“And were you hoping I poked you with something sharper too?” 

“No. You could have a wooden one, and I could have a steel one. That would even the odds, don’t you think?” She smirked at me. 

Her blonde hair was back in a ponytail, and I fancied we looked similar—exactly like the mother and daughter we were—but she would have objected to the comparison. I was in my usual jeans, combat boots, and tank top—it was warm enough that I left my duster in the Jeep—and she wore far girlier attire: teal printed leggings and a loose pink terrycloth hoodie that left her midriff on display. A few teenage boys in the swimming pool area watched her as we headed for the pickleball courts. They weren’t in use, so I planned to claim one as a flat practice area. 

“For your first few lessons, we’ll mostly go over footwork. There won’t be much poking.” 

“That’s disappointing. I’d really like to learn to poke people. Especially dragons.” Amber grimaced. 

She hadn’t told me exactly what happened when Zav’s sister, Zondia, had shown up at the house to question her about me. All I knew was that it had bothered her enough that she’d asked Thad if she could learn how to use a weapon. Having me be her sword-fighting instructor had been his idea, not Amber’s, and I didn’t think she was excited to spend time with me. I wouldn’t get cheesy and emotional and say that I was excited to spend time with her. 

“You don’t want to try that unless you get a magical sword,” I said. 

“Will that happen? When I’m good enough?” Amber picked up one of the wooden swords. “I want to be able to take care of myself if any dragons show up and pin me down and hurt me.” 

“I want you to be able to do that too.” My heart ached at the knowledge that she’d been hurt by dragons, not once but twice. And both times were because I’d made the mistake of inserting myself into her life. It was possible Zondia would have found out about her even if I hadn’t encountered Thad and Amber at the lake earlier that summer—Zondia had been thorough in her research—but I still blamed myself for all this. I would do my best to teach Amber. 

We worked out for about an hour, and I tolerated a lot more lippiness than my combat instructors had ever taken from me, but she was a civilian as well as my daughter. I’d been in the army when I’d been learning this stuff. I remembered my mouth getting me in trouble and doing a lot of push-ups in between rounds. 

During a break, with sweat streaming down her face, Amber lifted her hands. “When do we get to the part with the swords?” 

“Soon.” 

“You said that hours ago.” 

“We’ve only been practicing footwork for—” I checked my phone, “—fifty-two minutes. Your swim team practices are longer than that.” 

“We get to rest between sets. You’re barely giving me any breaks. These are different muscles than I use for swimming.” She waved at her thighs. 

“Just be glad I haven’t made you paint a house or wax cars.” 

Her forehead furrowed. “What?” 

“I thought you watched movies from the eighties. Classics, right?” I’d been aggrieved when she’d called The Princess Bride a classic. How could movies I’d grown up watching be lumped in with those hokey black-and-white flicks from the dawn of television time? “You never saw The Karate Kid?” 

She wrinkled her nose. “I don’t like sports movies. Or Jackie Chan.” 

I almost corrected her on Jackie Chan, then remembered that there had been a remake I hadn’t seen. “What kinds of movies do you like?” 

She shrugged. “Stuff about high school kids.” 

That sounded about as scintillating as watching paint peel. I groped for another topic to discuss while she rested, but I doubted we’d seen any of the same movies or listened to the same music. Thad had said she liked dresses and was into fashion, but as my wardrobe attested, I was not. 

“Your father said you’re interested in beauty pageants,” I remembered. “Did you see Miss Congeniality?” 

Amber hadn’t been born yet when that came out, but maybe it was another classic that she’d watched. 

“Yeah.” Her eyes widened at some realization. “Oh man, Val. You’re just like the girl that Sandra Bullock played.” 

“I’m not that bad.” 

“Yes, you are.” She grinned. “Did you ever beat up a bully in grade school to save a wimpy kid? And then get rejected by the wimpy kid? And then punch him?” 

“No. Your grandmother homeschooled me. I didn’t get any opportunities to beat up anyone at school until I was fifteen.” 

“Maybe that’s why you’re so weird. And dress like Rambo.” 

What did that mean? That homeschooling had shaped me or that a lack of kids to beat up had? 

Did normal parents find things their children said mystifying, or would I be more in tune with her if I’d been around her whole life? Probably the latter. 

I was about to put her back to work when my phone buzzed. I half-expected it to be Willard—she’d said she wouldn’t have a new assignment for me until next week, but it was possible Gondo had reported in and she wanted to goad me about the dragon kiss. But it was an unfamiliar number. 

“Yeah?” 

“Is this Val-mey-jar Thorvald?” a woman asked. 

“It’s Val. Who’s this?” 

“I’m Tanya Drake, the executive assistant for Mr. Bernard Weber. Mr. Weber is interested in hiring you.” 

“To do what?” I hadn’t heard of a Bernard Weber and would look him up after I got off the call. My number was in the digital rolodexes of some locals with the means and need to hire an assassin with my unique skillset, but I’d heard of most of those people. “I’m pretty booked right now.” 

Booked to go to Elf Land with Zav and learn wizarding skills. 

“Mr. Weber needs you to drop your other clients and come work for him.” 

“We don’t all get what we want.” 

“He’s willing to pay you two thousand dollars a day for the next two weeks and will include combat bonuses if it comes to that.” 

“Two thousand dollars a day?” I mouthed but didn’t say out loud. It was gauche for an assassin to be impressed by some rich guy’s offer of payment. “To do what?” 

The executive assistant—I wonder if Willard called Gondo her executive assistant when she talked about him—had avoided mentioning that. 

“To be his bodyguard while he’s in town and go to some events with him. He also wants you to take a look at the security on his estate. He’s had some trouble with corporate spies using magic and wants a professional assessment of some new items he’s installed.” 

I thought of Dimitri’s bear-holding-fish statue that shot darts at intruders and wondered if those were the kinds of items this Weber guy had installed. For his estate. I smirked as I imagined Dimitri’s tacky yard-art defenses lining the mile-long driveway of some business mogul’s property. 

“Are you interested, Ms. Thorvald? Mr. Weber heard you’re the best and only hires the best.” 

“Oh, I’m sure.” I wanted to go with Zav tomorrow, but the idea of depositing a check for twenty-eight thousand dollars was appealing. With that much, I could finally pay off the auto loan I was still getting charged for, despite the loss of the vehicle at the beginning of the summer. “When would this gig start? Like I said, my schedule is full.” 

“Mr. Weber wants to meet with you tonight to finalize the details. He’s in a bit of a bind and would like you to start immediately.” 

If I accepted, there would be no trip to Elf Land, at least not for a couple of weeks. Would Zav mind delaying? It sounded like his horny bits would, but it wasn’t like I would instantly learn how to use my elven powers as soon as I showed up in their world. This would be a long process. Two weeks couldn’t make that much of a difference. Zav could hunt down a few more criminals while I was on this mission, and then we could go. 

“What happened to Weber’s last bodyguard?” I asked. 

“Mr. Weber hasn’t had one before. He travels in civilized society, not among hoodlums. His current problem is a recent development.” 

“I guess it wouldn’t hurt to meet with him.” 

“Excellent. I’m texting you the address. Do you have a dress?” 

I’d been about to hang up and almost stuttered at the last question. “A dress?” 

Amber had flopped down dramatically on the pickleball court, but she lifted her head at this mention of her favorite article of clothing. 

“What would I need a dress for?” I asked. 

Amber rolled her eyes and shook her head. I was questioning needing a dress for a mission, not specifically owning one, though as it happened, I didn’t own one either. 

“Mr. Weber doesn’t want people to know he’s hiring a bodyguard. You’ll act as his date at events and in public venues.” 

Ugh, Zav wasn’t going to like this. Well, he could get over it. I needed him to figure out that I didn’t want a jealous boyfriend looming at my side whenever I spoke to a man. Maybe this would give me an opportunity to work on that with him. Or maybe I’d tell him I’d heard some of his criminals were in China and that he should clear out of the state for two weeks. That seemed simpler. 

“As long as I can pack my gun,” I said. 

That earned another eye roll from Amber. 

“So long as it’s hidden,” was all Tanya said. 

She hung up and sent the address. 

“Laurelhurst. Right on the water. That’s about what I figured.” 

At least it wasn’t that far from where I lived. Just separated by a few socioeconomic strata. 

Amber sat up, her brows perking. “So, you’re going dress shopping?” 

“I’ll see how the meeting goes first.” I wasn’t buying anything unless I was positive I would take the job and had money in my hand. Mr. Weber had better be prepared to give me a retainer. 

“Do you even know where to go?” 

“To buy a dress?” I shrugged and thought of the closest shopping center. “Alderwood Mall?” 

“Oh, Val.” She said it like I was the kid in math class who couldn’t figure out how to carry the one. “To go work for some guy in Laurelhurst? You’ve got to go to The Shops at the Bravern.” At my blank look, she added, “In Bellevue.” 

“Great. I not only need a dress, but I have to fight traffic to get one.” And why did I have visions of Julia Roberts in Pretty Woman waltzing through my mind? There was another classic that Amber probably hadn’t seen. 

“If the job is ongoing for a rich client, you’ll need a few. Black tie, cocktail, business casual, country club casual… Do you have a simple skater dress?” 

I envisioned kids at a skate park rolling down the ramps and doing jumps in dresses. 

I was positive Amber didn’t have enough magical blood to read minds, but my facial expression prompted another eye roll. 

“You need help, Val.” 

“I have an appointment with my therapist later this week.” 

“With your wardrobe.” 

“Are you offering?” I tried not to make my smile too hopeful so she wouldn’t read it as desperate. Even if the idea of dress-shopping horrified me, I wouldn’t mind spending time with Amber. Maybe she would be less lippy if sweat weren’t streaming down her face. 

“Uh, will you buy me something?” 

This seemed a tad manipulative, but one couldn’t expect altruism from a teenager, right? Besides, taking me dress-shopping would probably be a lot of work. People deserved to be paid for work. 

“A skater dress?” I offered. 

“You don’t know what that is, do you?” 

“I’m hoping it’s an item of clothing that doesn’t cost more than fifty dollars.” 

“At Goodwill, maybe.” 

“Is Goodwill an option?” 

“No.” 

As I headed back to the Jeep, I decided to ask this guy for three thousand a day. Only an amateur didn’t negotiate on salary. An amateur who didn’t have a teenage daughter with expensive tastes.

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