City in the Dragon's Eye (Dragon Reich Book 1) by Jordan Loyal Short

Author:Jordan Loyal Short [Short, Jordan Loyal]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2024-02-12T00:00:00+00:00

Viktor followed the thug with the red tattoos into the campus cafeteria. A sparse crowd of holiday diners sat at long wooden tables eating stew from wooden bowls. The soft shuffle of feet and murmured voices lent the place a sleepy atmosphere. Overhead, cobwebs hung from the rafters.

The enforcer barged into the hall with all the subtlety of a thunderstorm, turning every head in the building. He marched over to one of the lunch ladies, growling threats until she opened her cash box and doled out a gold coin. Just as the thug was about to grab it, the lunch lady closed her fist around the coin, her hairy lip trembling. She whispered something that made the gangster go pale.

“Nice,” Viktor whispered.

The goon’s head swung around to discover who had said that. Viktor ducked behind one of the tables pretending to tie his shoe. He waited out the thug, imagining a few good one-liners the lunch lady might have said. Beside him, a women slurping broth looked down at him with a total lack of curiosity. The door exiting the cafeteria slammed and Viktor shot to his feet, scrambling after the extortionist.

It turned out that he was easy to follow, stopping as often as he did, hassling the shopkeepers of every kiosk and corner shop on campus.

Part of Viktor wanted to intervene, but he kept telling himself he needed to follow the brute until he led him to the rest of his gang. Plus he was still quite stoned and figured it best to let the smoke mellow a bit before he really got into it with these guys. Even as the intoxicating effects started to subside, Viktor kicked himself for getting distracted when he had important things to do. It had seemed like something the old Viktor would have done. At the time, it seemed like a way to get back a little of what he’d lost. But now he felt foolish and wished he would just sober up already.

The gangster continued on his rounds, leaving the beautifully maintained campus, and heading back toward the seedier areas closer to the water. He went from peddler to peddler, rounding up coin. At one point, Viktor watched the thug argue with a shirtless tattooist. The two squared off, bickering. The brute grabbed the tattooist by the neck, spitting threats in his face until the street artist finally decided it was better hand over payment than to take a beating.

Before heading off the thug surveyed his surroundings. As his eyes swept over him, Viktor snatched a dress off a street vendor’s rack and held it up to himself, trying to blend in.

“Oh,” said the shopkeeper, an old woman wearing a comical amount of rouge. “I like that on you. It would really show off your calves.”

“I’ll think about it,” said Viktor.

The enforcer moved on and Viktor smiled at the old woman, putting the dress back. After a moment of indecision, he decided to talk to the tattooist instead of pressing his luck following the thug.

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