Chapter 1 #2
Without waiting for a reply, I flipped my ruby-red braid over my shoulder and stalked back to the kitchen, my own pupils narrowing to angry slits. Once I was out of sight of the diners, I exhaled a whole load of sparks into the brick oven.
“That bad, eh?” Pyra asked drily.
“I’ve had worse.” I walked over to watch her work, feeling mildly better. “How’s that Surf & Turf coming along?”
“Nearly done. Why? Is the customer getting antsy already?” The flames flared before dying back down.
“Pretty much.” I rolled my eyes.
“Hang on a sec, and I’ll have it ready for you.” Pyra moved deftly, and quickly plated the perfectly cooked and barely seasoned steak and lobster with a tasteful flourish.
“Thanks, Pyra.” I took the plate from her, forming red scales on the palms of my hands so the heated ceramic wouldn’t burn my skin.
I marched over to Mr. Ice Cold and displayed the steaming meal.
“Finally.” He gestured to the other side of his computer, which I very obviously couldn’t reach, and said without looking up, “Just put it there.”
I felt my face turning red, and scales raced from my hands and up the rest of my arms as my temper flared.
Why had he wanted his food so quickly if he was just going to ignore it while it grew cold?
! I had half a mind to place it right onto his keyboard and see how well the plastic fared under the heat.
But if I did that, he’d probably sue. Or worse, leave a bad review.
With an internal sigh, I placed the plate behind his laptop with a halfhearted, “Careful, it’s hot.”
He scowled, and absently reached for the plate with one hand, while still typing with the other. The instant his snowy skin clamped onto the heated ceramic, he hissed in pain and quickly withdrew his hand to his chest.
He finally looked away from the screen and turned his furious, ice-cold eyes on me. “Why didn’t you warn me it was hot?!”
I just stared back at him. “I did. Just now.”
“No, you most certainly did not!” he retorted icily.
“Oh, yes she did! Even we heard her,” chimed in the regulars seated in the booth next to him. I gave them a thumbs-up and made a mental note to give them some free dessert.
“Why did you ignore my warning?” I bit back.
“I— I didn’t mean to,” he mumbled, looking down as pink stained his pale cheeks. He clutched at his hand, which was indeed starting to blister. “How am I supposed to make my deadline now?”
Some of my inner fire banked at the look on his face. It wasn’t like I didn’t understand how deadlines and pressure could make even the most patient dragon a little crabby. With a long-suffering sigh, I grabbed his water, which only had ice chips left in it now, and held out my scale-less hand.
“Give me your hand.”
He stared at me like I’d grown a second head. “What?”
“Give. Me. Your. Hand,” I repeated.
When he tentatively held it out, I grabbed his wrist. A jolt went through me at the contact, at the cool and calming balm of his skin and the magic that lay beneath it.
At the same time, it felt like a flicker of my own fire went out to him, warming the ice in his veins.
The startled look on his face told me he had felt it, too.
Shaking off my surprise, I carefully dipped his hand into the cup, not caring about the water sloshing onto the tiles that I would have to mop up later. The crease between his brows immediately eased in relief.
“Wouldn’t it be better if I just conjured a ball of ice to hold?” he asked.
I shook my head. “That would make it much, much worse, because of the huge temperature discrepancy. To treat mild burns like this, it’s best to hold the affected skin under cool, not cold, running water.”
“I imagine you’ve had plenty of experience with burns.” A little bit of that sass crept back into his tone.
“You don’t know the half of it.” My serious tone seemed to throw him off. Carefully, I set the glass, with his hand still in it, on the table. “Just keep your hand there while I go get some bandages for you.”
I kept my own personal stash in the backroom, so it only took me a moment to grab what I needed. When I returned to his booth, I gently removed his hand and patted it dry with a towel. He winced, but didn’t complain.
I probably shouldn’t, but… “I’m going to draw out the heat. It might sting for a second, but it will feel much better afterwards.”
I closed my eyes so I could focus on sensing the heat that lingered in his skin, radiating out from the burns.
It felt like his own magic was fighting it, but to little effect.
It seemed ice dragons really were weak to fire, even more so than I expected.
Even a regular human’s skin would not have been burned as badly as his was.
Using my own magic, I pulled the heat from his wound, allowing it to settle across my own skin like a warm blanket.
After all, this level of heat was nothing to a fire drake.
When I opened my eyes, I found icy blue ones only inches away. I jerked back, nearly dropping his hand in surprise.
“What did you just do?” he whispered, his voice shaky. “The heat, the pain…it’s gone.”
“I just…drew the heat into myself, with my magic.” I frowned. “Don’t ice dragons do the same with the cold?”
He looked away first. “Right. Of course.”
Trying to ignore this man’s strange reactions, I squeezed a huge dollop of gel out of my aloe vera tube and slathered it all over the burn. I then carefully wrapped his fingers and palm with bandage strips until every last shred of pink skin was covered.
“You seem like you’ve done this before.” This time, there was nothing condescending about his tone.
“I’ve had plenty of practice.” I belatedly realized I was still holding his hand, and released it. The instant I did, my temperature rose, and snowflakes formed on his eyelashes.
Huh.
“Just keep it clean and covered, and re-apply the aloe vera gel whenever it starts feeling too warm,” I instructed, gathering up everything except the gel.
“You’re…giving this to me?” He looked at the gel like it might bite him, his slitted pupils dilating.
“Yes, I have plenty more at home. Besides, you need it more than I do right now.” I moved to leave, but the ice dragon caught my wrist in his uninjured hand. That strange sensation zipped through me again.
“Thank you, Mei,” he said so quietly I barely heard him. “And…I’m sorry for what I said…earlier.”
My pupils slitted again as I narrowed my eyes at him. An apology was the last thing I had expected to hear. He seemed genuinely remorseful. With his soothing ice cooling the heat of my temper, I almost felt inclined to forgive him.
Almost. Maybe I’d reserve judgment until I saw what kind of tip he left me.
“I appreciate that, Mr…?” I trailed off expectantly.
“Yuri. Yuri Glacien.”