Sinister Magic: An Urban Fantasy Dragon Series (Death Before Dragons #1) - Lindsay Buroker Page 0,9
in the side door, but I didn’t want to interrupt her day business. Since she also had magical blood, I could sense her working inside near the fryers. Her grandfather on her mother’s side had been a gnome, and she’d known him long enough to learn his trade of making magical weapons.
One of Nin’s assistants was at the window, handing out wrapped paper bundles of beef and rice. My stomach rumbled as the scents of grilling meat and spicy sauces teased my nose.
People chatted amiably in line, nobody glancing at the sword or gun I carried, since their magical glamours made them invisible to people without the blood to see through such things. Nobody glanced at me either. My height usually made me stand out, but the men and women were in groups or pairs, more interested in their private conversations than people-watching.
Strange, but in the crowded square, I felt a twinge of loneliness. Dr. Brightman’s words about my dearth of social connections came back to me, but I brushed them aside with irritation. I did fulfilling work that few others could do, and I helped people. That was enough of a social reward. Enough of a connection.
Besides, where would I go to seek new friends? The magical community feared and hated me, because they knew what I did. Many of them believed I would go after even the innocent among them if someone paid me enough—not true. And humans…
Unfortunately, humans couldn’t be relied upon to take care of themselves if they ran into the magical, and that happened frequently in my company. I’d made a lot of enemies, so blackmail, assassination attempts, and drive-by shootings were a regular part of my life. I didn’t tell anyone I had a daughter or an ex-husband who lived in the suburbs north of Seattle, just as I didn’t draw attention to my mother in Oregon. Forming new relationships would only get people I cared about hurt—or killed. I’d learned that painfully from past experience.
“One suea rong hai,” the assistant said, handing out a meal wrapped in paper.
I stepped to the front of the line. “I’ll take one of those and—” I raised my voice so Nin would hear it, from where she was now putting more rice in the cooker, “—I’m in need of something off the special menu.”
“They only serve beef and rice here,” a shaggy guy in dreads behind me said. “It’s a thing.”
“Thanks for the tip.” I shooed him back to give me an appropriate three feet of personal space.
Nin leaned into view, waving a slender arm and smiling. Her short black hair had been bleached as long as I’d known her, and this week, it was dyed purple. “It is not the usual hours for the special menu, but for a good client, of course, come inside, please.”
I left my puzzled advisor behind and waited at the side door until it opened. I stepped into a workspace that was more like a closet than a smithy, but all manner of completed rifles, pistols, and specialty pieces hung on pegboards. Boxes under the counters held stocks, barrels, and bolts, along with boxes of wildcat cartridges for the weapons. The place reverberated with magic, at least to my senses.
Nin gave her assistant a few instructions and stepped inside with me, closing the door so the people waiting for food wouldn’t see this area. That made the tight space even tighter. I had to duck my head to keep from bumping it on the ceiling.
“Thanks for slipping me in, Nin.” I pulled out Fezzik and showed her the bent front sight. “I probably could have used some pliers to fix it, but I didn’t know if that would void the warranty.”
Her brow furrowed, but only for a second before she got the joke, then laughed. Even though Nin had only been in the country for five years, she’d about mastered American sarcasm and idioms, as far as I could tell. She spoke English slowly, but her words were precise and easy to understand.
“You are funny. What did you fight?” Nin took the gun from me and pulled out her tools. “Did my baby perform well?”
“It did. I got the last of the wyverns that killed those kids outside of Portland. And then I let a dragon throw me around.”
The tool kit slipped from her fingers and clattered to the floor. I managed to catch Fezzik before it suffered a similar fate.
“A dragon?” Nin gaped at me. “You are joking again?”