“Jildarin?” Rylana joined her at the window.
“Yes. Maybe you should go cheer him up. My rent is coming due soon. I need the chef to keep working so customers will come and tip me.”
Rylana looked around at the dining room, at soot on the walls and ashes coating the floor. The air stank of smoke, and she worried it would take more than a broom to return the Dragon Diner to an appealing place to eat.
“What makes you thinkIcan cheer him up?” Rylana hadn’t had any luck bolstering Jildarin in the kitchen.
“He thinks Rolf and Gniknik are twits and that I’m a slut.”
“He told you that?”
“No—I doubt he knows the word—but he looks disapprovingly at me whenever I go home with a man, no matterhowhandsome and charming he is, and thinks I shouldn’t flirt with customers. It’s not my fault that Ilikeflirting. And men. Besides, they tip a lot better when you bolster their egos a bit.”
“Well, I’m the one who gave him the scar on his temple,” Rylana reminded her. “I doubt I can cheer him up. He considers me an enemy.”
“Then you’re theperfectperson.” Zalani smiled and pushed her toward the door. “Enemies are the only ones you can trust to be honest with you. Go talk to him. For the sake of Rolf’s children and my rent money.”
Rylana had no idea what else she could say to Jildarin but walked outside to try. It would be a shame if he gave up on the contest and Yerin won.
19
When Rylana steppedout of the diner, Jildarin had disappeared. One of the peacekeepers must have turned off the alarm gongs that emanated from the nearby pillars, because the night had grown quiet.
Shutters drawn, the bakery as well as most other stores on the street were closed for the day, but soft yellow light emanated from the coffee shop, and people were visible through the window. Outside, mist fell, wreathing the streetlamps, and a few hooded pedestrians hurried along their routes.
“It’ll be hard to chat with Jildarin if I can’t find him.” Rylana headed for the alley, though she doubted he was lurking there. Might he have headed out of the city for another hunt? Or to do… whatever his brother had been alluding to earlier?Mating? “Maybe he went to the wine party,” she murmured.
When she peeked around the corner to the alley, she didn’t see anyone, but her instincts warned her of a threat behind her. She spun about, reaching instinctively for the sword that wasn’t at her waist, but she wasn’t quick enough. A strong arm pulled her against a hard chest, and a hand clamped over her mouth.
Fear swept through her as well as a sense of indignation and betrayal that she would be attacked in Tranquility. Where had those cursed peacekeepers gone?
“You seek to take advantage of my distraction and slay me?” Jildarin asked.
“What? No,” Rylana tried to say, but his hand muffled her words. She stomped on his foot and drove an elbow backward, the discussion with Zalani about him still considering her an enemy springing to mind.
She landed her blows, but he endured them without releasing her.
“No,” he murmured to himself. “You were attempting to assist my diner when I arrived.”
She nodded. Yes, she had been.
“And you have sold my stoves.”
Another nod.
Jildarin released her and stepped back. “You are a strange enemy.”
“Because I’m nottryingto be your enemy.” Rylana turned to face him. She’d thought—hoped—he was past being suspicious of her, but having an arsonist target the diner had probably set him on edge again. “The war is over.”
“Long before the war, humans considered dragons enemies.”
“I’d never met a dragon before the war. I rarely considered them at all.”
He blinked a couple of times, as if he couldn’t imagine someonenotconsidering dragons.
“There weren’t any in Tranquility before you and your brother arrived.” There at least hadn’t been any in her youth. Rylana didn’t know if any had visited in the more distant past. “I don’t thinkI’mthe strange one here.”
Jildarin gazed at her, and she expected a rebuttal, but what he said was, “You are perhaps not theonlystrange one.”
