One: Best Laid Plans
Bellatrix ‘Trix’ Wicker
The plan was simple:
Step one: Get the dragon drunk.
Step two: Take back the ruby necklace
Step three: Break the curse
The Root Cellar was filled to the brim with the usual crowd. I absently wiped the counter while I scanned the crowd looking for the dragon. A pair of dark elves were whispering in the corner. A group of humans were clustered together around a large table playing cards. A goblin and a dwarf looked to be negotiating some kind of trade. But no dragon.
It took me three months to find him and another three to learn his full name. Nicodemus Brande. Did the full name of a dragon have the same power as the full name of a fae? I didn’t know. I hoped I wouldn’t find out.
And I shouldn’t need to if my plan worked. All of these months I’d spent working at The Root Cellar. Biding my time. learning his habits. Nicodemus Brande came into this tavern twice a week. Once to do business in town to add treasures to his horde. Once to sit in this tavern, for a reason I had yet to discover. But he always ordered the same thing.
A double of Tilly’s Runeshine.
He would sit at the same table in the corner. Sip it slowly and scan the room like he was looking for something. But what?
He already had a horde of treasure.
He already had a beautiful castle on the mountain.
He even had gaggles of women (and some men) who were dying to go for a roll in the hay.
Fates know that Ebony, the other barmaid had tried. She insisted that she would wear him down, claiming he was “just her type.” With his dark messy hair and sharp blue eyes. He somehow walked the line between apex predator and effortlessly sexy. Like he didn’t care how he looked, but he still managed to look good.
It had to be some kind of magic.
Ebony was serving the elves in the corner swaying her hips and batting her eyelashes. The woman was shameless… but she did get a ton of tips.
“Wick-ed Trix. By the gods, what the hell are you doing in this dump?”
Ah shit.
I knew that voice.
Chase Madden strolled into the tavern like he owned it. Though the cocky bastard walked into every place like he owned it, him and his ‘guild of thieves’ would steal the shirt off your back and you would thank him for the honor of it.
“Chase, I—”
“Don’t.” He held up a hand, that familiar crooked grin spreading across his face. “I know that look. You’re working. And here I thought you’d given up the life for... this.” He gestured around the tavern with obvious disdain.
“I’m just serving drinks,” I said, forcing my voice to stay level. “Look, I’m busy tonight. Can we catch up later? Tomorrow maybe?”
His brown eyes lit up. “Tomorrow? Really? Because I was thinking we could—”
“Chase.” I grabbed his arm, desperation creeping into my voice. “Please. Just... not tonight.”
He was about to respond when the tavern door opened. The conversations didn’t exactly stop, but they definitely quieted. Even the air seemed to shift.
Nicodemus Brande stepped inside.
Six feet of lean muscle and predatory grace. His dark hair was windswept from flying, and those sharp blue eyes swept the room with casual authority. He moved like liquid shadow, every step deliberate. When his gaze passed over me, I felt it like a physical touch.
“Well, well,” Chase murmured beside me, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. “Interesting choice in marks, Wicked Trix.”
My blood went cold.
Before I could respond, Chase’s fingers wrapped around my wrist and he was pulling me toward the back door. “We need to talk. Now.”
The alley behind The Root Cellar reeked of stale ale and worse things. Chase released my wrist but stayed close, his expression serious for once.
“A dragon, Trix? Really?” He ran a hand through his sandy hair. “What the hell are you thinking?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I crossed my arms, going for innocent. “I’m just a barmaid.”
Chase laughed, but there was no humor in it. “Cut the shit. I’ve known you since we were kids running cons in the lower district. You think I can’t spot you casing a mark?” His eyes narrowed. “The question is, what could possibly be worth risking a dragon’s wrath?”
“It’s none of your business. Not anymore.” I straightened, putting some distance between us.
Chase swiftly covered his hurt with a smirk. The male was so arrogant, how I hadn’t noticed in all those years, I shook my head, nope. I was not going there tonight.
“If it’s coin you need –”
But I didn’t let him finish, lifting my chin. “It’s not about coin.”
“Then what?” His voice softened, and for a moment he looked like the boy who used to split his stolen bread with me. “Trix, whatever it is, there has to be another way. Dragons don’t just kill thieves—they make examples of them. Slowly.”
The desperation I’d been fighting all evening clawed at my throat. “You don’t understand. I don’t have a choice.”
“There’s always a choice.” He stepped closer, and I caught that familiar scent of leather and adventure that used to make my heart race. “If you need money—”
“It’s not about money!” The words came out sharper than I intended. “And as I said before, it’s none of your business anyway.”
Chase stared at me for a long moment, then his shoulders sagged. “Damn it, Trix. You’re really going to do this, aren’t you?”
I said nothing. What could I say? That my grandmother was dying? That in days or weeks, I’d be cursed with terrible luck for the rest of my life unless I stole from the most dangerous creature in three kingdoms? That my mother had damned me to save herself?
“Fine.” He backed toward the mouth of the alley. “But promise me something. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”
Despite everything, I snorted. “There isn’t anything you wouldn’t do.”
That crooked grin returned, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “Exactly. So be careful, Wicked Trix. The world would be a lot less interesting without you in it.”
He winked and disappeared into the crowd on the main street, leaving me alone with the smell of garbage and the weight of what I was about to do.
I took a deep breath, smoothed my skirts, and headed back inside. Nicodemus was already seated at his usual table, and Ebony was sashaying over with his drink.
Time to get a dragon drunk.
