Izabella
âWhere are you? It sounds like a party.â Dawn was never one to actually ask where I was for safety reasons. She was likely checking her equipment or my sanity., possibly both.
âCairo.â She knew the tone of voice I was using, playful, flirty, totally being sarcastic.
âBitch, please.â Itâs nice when your best friend and business partner knows you well enough to call you on your shit.
I was not, point of fact, in Cairo and hadnât been there in years. Iâd probably have to wait for another decade before I could even visit. The last time was quite messy and you donât piss off a lich without some consequences. I had warm feelings, thinking about it. That was one hell of a time.
âYouâre humming. Must be in a good mood.â Dawnâs rich alto tickled my ear via the untraceable worm lodged in my ear canal that sent a signal back to the one that matched hers. Custom earwig transmitter and receiver pairs were one of the many things she engineered while Iâve known her.
She later sold the originals to several governments and promised never to make them again. So she invented even better, longer range versions she kept to herself. While she was in New York, I could be in Texas, chatting with her as if we were using open communication lines. We had tested it at longer distances and discovered a communication lag of a second or two when youâre separated by continents. Still, having a dedicated untraceable communication system was invaluable in my line of work.
If it wasnât for Dawn, Iâd never manage half the jobs I pulled off, nor would I have made it out of Cairo. Her talents seemed endless, especially with tech. To have her as my best friend was priceless for so many reasons, besides her being a dragon. I often wondered what the hell I brought to our friendship besides complications.
Like tonight, I didnât have to do this. I could have obtained everything I needed without going anywhere near the target, but I couldnât leave well enough alone. Dawn trusted me; trusted my judgment. I was taking an enormous risk for what was little better than an infatuation. In my line of work, that was dangerous. Cairo level of dangerous. Itâs probably why I mentioned it. That job was on my mind and I wondered, not for the first time tonight, if I was about to make an epic fucking mistake. But like any addict, I thought I knew what I was doing and could avoid what happened in Cairo.
âWhatâs not to like? A few drinks, a few questions, an exchange of information. Itâll be a quick in and out.â My current target was a history professor that had an artifact my anonymous client wanted desperately and had spared no expense. A monthâs worth of surveillance finally pushed me to complete the job. I couldnât keep watching him from a distance. I had to take his measure, size him up, play a little cat and mouse to see if he squeaked.
âDoesnât hurt that heâs easy on the eyes.â
âIf you say so.â Her soft laugh sent a tingle down my spine, or rather the nerve cluster that represented it. Fifty years of working together and flirting like we did, yet neither one of us had made a move. Sometimes her voice would caress parts of me, like a memory. Surfacing, then gone too fast to completely recognize it as something other than a shadow.
âWhatâs occupying you this evening besides me?â I asked, wanting to change the subject. I worried, as a friend, that Dawn spent too much time in her den instead of living. Dragons could be solitary, especially during certain times in their lives. Most preferred company. Dawn preferred her lab and gadgets.
Iâd found her once, feverishly working on something with several weeks worth of food packaging piled around her. Dragons had amazing capacity for food and focus. I hadnât really worried until I found her passed out once. Between virtual notes spread over every surface via some magical means and the massive piles of takeout containers, once I had her awake and responding, I made her promise me sheâd never do that again.
She agreed once I bribed her with a fancy bath house membership that catered specifically to dragons, for which she had regularly scheduled appointments. Along with access to the award winning chef on staff who would make her anything her heart desired while she relaxed. It was worth every cent, otherwise, what was the point of being a world class thief if you couldnât spend your stolen wealth on your best friend.
Dawn was quiet a moment before she answered. I could almost hear her tinkering with something. âThe usual foray into the world of dating with the hope of some physical release to round out a lack luster evening.â
The dating app had been another suggestion. Her long braids, soft golden brown skin, and eyes with the deepest, darkest, green youâd likely ever seen outside of anyone but her family, made her look like a warrior goddess. Some even had mistaken her for that a time or two. She always had opportunities for dates, and other activities which also helped her relax. At least she said it did after letting slip once that dragons were mostly omnisexual and some times polygamous if their pheromone connections with their mate were agreeable. Her parents were proof, based on the stories she told me.
âWhat about the witch you were seeing?â
âWho? Felix?â
âYeah.â
âThe sex was nice.â She sighed. I would have sworn I could hear her thoughts. Physically, she could overwhelm most individuals. Being a dragon gives you certain advantages. Felix had accomplished what few had, keeping up with Dawnâs stamina and drive.âWas a bit full of himself. Got competitive about it. Over heard him talking to a mate of his about having a dragon under his thumb.â
âHe didnât.â
âHe did!â She scoffed. âLike I was at his beck and call. As if. Lout. Caught him saying this as I was coming back from the loo. Reminded him that dragons have rather sensitive hearing and next time his junk needed attention he could use his thumb since he was supposedly so good with it. Then I threw my drink in his face and left.â
I laughed. Heâs lucky it was just a drink. Dawn wasnât a violent individual. Preferred to solve problems with tech whenever possible. âIâm sure that left an impression.â
âHe deserved it. Wanker.â
âAgreed.â
Her beautiful accent was some combination between Northern British and New Yorker. She once told me she was part of some high born dragon family. Landed gentry on one side, noble lineage on the other. Made it sound like she was part mage too, but she never said for sure. Sheâd always apologize after talking about them, showing me pictures. Iâd never met them in person. It was too dangerous. She told me it was to keep them safe from what we did. I believed her. She would rarely visit unless it was a formal family function and always apologized for leaving me behind. While I was envious, I coped with it. The last thing Iâd ever want to do was endanger Dawnâs family.
In a way, her family was my family, too. They were the only ones I knew after Dawn rescued me. It was a job gone horribly wrong in Scotland and we left as soon as I could move. From the pieces I could put together, I was supposed to have stolen a book, but there was a fire and I almost didnât make it.
Over the years, Iâd thought about that failed job. Maybe the book had been a trap. I never asked why, but counted it a blessing that sheâd been there. That was fifty years ago. Iâve had a few close calls since, like Cairo.
My first memory after the accident was of Dawn. While I couldnât remember the job I was doing, or who I was before the fire, I did remember languages, a whole host of skills that werenât common place, and my name. Thatâs it. Searches and various forays into darker parts of different organizations resulted in nothing. I was a walking ghost, and looked like one. Or a vampire that was perpetually underfed, depending on who you talked to.
Itâs why I felt guilty for taking this risk. Still, what trouble could a handsome history professor really be?
The advantage to these kinds of jobs was that often the targets donât call in the local public safety folks to investigate. Itâs usually private firms or insurance investigators.
Insurance didnât care much about rules, or catching anyone. They were more concerned with recovering the item. That and authenticating artifacts was legit work that kept authorities from looking at our operation too closely.
These days, Dawn preferred we worked on those jobs instead. Creative acquisitions wasnât her obsession, it was mine. So she caved every once in a while when the money was good and the set up didnât present a lot of risk. Except when I decided to add it because I needed more of a challenge.
Though that was a lie. I needed to see his face, in person, instead of on a holo. I wanted to give him a moment that might outweigh his sadness, if only for a little while. Least I could do before I robbed him.
I stopped at the entrance to a popular club on the famed sixth street of Austin, Texas. âWell, Iâm here. Wish me luck.â
âIz, you donât need luck.â
âI donât?â
âNo, love, you have me. Luck is a fickle bitch. Wouldnât rely on her to watch a hen lay an egg much less help.â
âSuch words.â
âAnything for my favorite acquisition expert.â
âSave your flattery. I have work to do.â
âYeah, yeah. Ping me when youâre ready. Itâs a quiet night over at the university. Should be a cake walk for you.â The surveillance Iâd set up was still functioning. Dawn would keep a watch on things while I obtained the final pieces I need to gain access.
âThen letâs hope it doesnât rain.â I paused communications by tapping the tragus of my left ear. Dawn could monitor me in other ways. The dragon always had a backup after Cairo.
The club I walked into was dark with a rustic ambiance. It was simply called The Lounge. How original. The name was in block letters across the buildingâs brick front between the first and second story.
Despite the basic name, the seating was designed for intimate conversations and had privacy barriers that generated a susurrus effect. Honestly, it reminded me of a old world vampire barâsoft lighting, shadows, and slightly dangerous.
These days, most vampires preferred to meet in more lighted situations, like twenty-four hour diners and brightly lit arcades. Most figure if they were going to risk their undead lives drinking unfiltered, they should have a pretty good look at who they were getting it from. Of course there were apps for that.
Luckily, the history professor wasnât a vampire, but he had a rather staunch friend in his department that decided he had been lamenting his previous relationship too much. I sympathized with her. She finally reached her breaking point a few nights ago and signed him up for this speed meeting event then sprung it on him when he least expected it.
If it was up to me, I might have tracked down his previous partner and given him a piece of my mind over the professorâs broken heart, but I wasnât in the revenge business. Acquisitions paid better and drew less attention, most of the time.