Free Breaking Ties by Vaughn R. Demont Page B

to chuckle. Tapping the notebooks, I say, “I’m studying magic. Can you think of a better way for me to be prepared?” Though she does have a point. “I know a trickster. I’ll ask him what he knows about the methods of the Phouka.”
    â€œI heard. A Coyote. They are fools.”
    I nod. “Indeed they are, and proud of it.”
    â€œMy apologies, my liege. I misspoke.” I quirk a brow, but she continues. “They are idiots . Nothing more than walking embodiments of id, and they all steal .” She snorts, a few white sparks issuing from her nose.
    â€œPersonal experience?” I fight not to grin. “I don’t suppose you took stock tips from one of them?”
    â€œLuckily my broker talked me out of it. I would’ve lost most of my hoard. Instead, I shorted the stock and made a decent profit. One only needs to remember the tale of the Impecunious to never trust financial advice from a stranger.”
    I wince, but that’s because I know the guy. Dave, my former boss and current flatmate. Well, all dragons have a title affixed to their names. His mother is apparently the Munificent, his father is the Opulent. Dave, or Davinicus, is called the Impecunious, which means pretty much broke. It’s not a term of endearment. He met a Coyote who sweet-talked him into investing his hoard in a junk stock and promptly lost everything but his building. Suffice it to say, he’s a little sore about it.
    â€œYeah, I heard about that. So are you going to go get lunch or what?” She waits expectantly, tapping her foot, and I shrug. “What, you want my order?”
    â€œYou’re ordering me to take a lunch break, sir?”
    â€œMore I was wondering, since you’re so loaded, and if you have enough liquid assets, could you get me something? I didn’t have time to stop for breakfast, and I’m mostly running on magic. I’d conjure food but it’s all empty calories.” I smile beatifically. “Please?”
    She fights off rolling her eyes, but nods. “At least you said please. Mother used to tell tales of the ways the Ra’keth would enforce discipline. The Munificent says you may be different. For now I will trust her judgment. What would you like me to bring you, then?”
    â€œBurger and fries? Small on the fries. Ask for the burger rarely legal.”
    She furrows her brow at the term, but I explain. “Rare as legally allowed. Only a couple places in the City know the term, mostly because the phrase hasn’t gotten around yet. Obviously, get whatever you want for yourself.”
    She smiles at that and just before turning to leave says, “I’m a vegetarian. When I’m in this form, at least.”
    Well. Learn something new about dragons every day, I guess. It’s a damned sight better than the first thing I learned from living with Dave. The best way to put it is this: Dragons snore like chainsaws having angry sex.
    I have to admit that she’s likely correct about the flying practice. “Flies like a dropped egg” sounds like an insult, to be sure, and since I’d rather not deal with her condescension, I might as well get in a little practice on my lunch break.
    I put out my sign that’ll direct patrons to the main desk and tell my supervisor I’m taking my lunch, and head to the roof.
    It’s clear up here, a little bit of a breeze, though the abundance of cigarette butts flips all the wrong switches in my brain, reminding me that attempt number twelve to quit smoking is not going as planned. I can conjure my own smokes, and I won’t get lung cancer. But it’s a habit I picked up while I was with Heath, one of the last vestiges of my life with him, and I’d prefer to cut it clean, nice and neat. Or jagged and sloppy, as long as I don’t need any of these damned things anymore.
    Suffice it to say, it takes me a couple minutes to clear my head and focus. I’m