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The Dragon Racer
17.1 Brynna

17.1 Brynna

Fourteenth Race

Brynna

Being in an unfamiliar bar made it harder to resist the temptation of the pumps and the optics. The bartenders at Jesse's regular had started to recognise Brynna, to understand her desire to stay sober. It didn't take a genius detective to guess why he'd asked her to meet here, but it wasn't a good sign either.

This place was quainter than the regular. She hadn't ordered any of the overpriced food, but she'd have bet it would come served on roof slates or a pried-up floorboard or something. At least that meant they had a frankly silly range of teas available. She'd chosen something which contained at least four fruit extracts and was almost purple in the cup.

The flavour was intense but the steam was at least helping somewhat with the headache. She'd spent all day on the phone trying to make contact with Tam Duffy's management. Like most guitar boys, he was all over the place. Brynna couldn't tell when he or his PR team slept, but they seemed to do it a lot.

She almost didn't recognise Jesse when he walked in. This place was gloomier than the regular, but it was more than that. Instead of his usual long coat and suit, he wore shirt sleeves and a sweater vest, sandy hair combed over so that he looked like nothing so much as a golf dad. As he entered, he was removing a drab green beanie from his head.

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Brynna took a long, slow breath. The change of location had been unnerving. Seeing Jesse's clumsy attempt to disguise himself rammed the point home. She waved a hand to the bartender and pointed in the mobster's direction. She didn't like Jesse, but it might be better if he didn't show up on a tab here. And he looked like he could use the kindness.

He saw her gesture and pointed wordlessly to a pump, then made a show of labouring himself onto the stool next to Brynna's, leaning heavily on the bar. Brynna leaned forward too. "How bad is it, dear?"

"Bad," he muttered. "Why'd you call me, Miss Brynna?"

"I want you to put me in charge of… the dragon girl." Brynna caught herself. Maybe it was better not to risk any names getting overheard. "She needs a PR team badly, dear, for all our sakes."

Jesse's narrowed eye glared sidelong at her as a full pint glass landed in front of him. "Why'd you want to get any closer to this mess, now of all times?"

"I'm not a fool, dear. I see which way the wind's blowing, I see the trouble we're in. I don't think my mermaid is far enough away to be safe. If you're not safe, she's not safe. And the longer this goes on between those kids, the worse that gets."

"And you think you can help?"

"Of course I can help, dear. I'm no miracle worker, but the least I can do is field some of the heat for her."

After a moment he nodded, one short, sharp movement. "Get out of here. Scram, now. Better it looks like you left right after I came in."

Brynna looked at her half-drunk tea. It hadn't been cheap, and neither had Jesse's pint. But she stood up, quietly placed some money on the counter, and walked out without another word. She wasn't given to chills, but the night air outside didn't feel like it matched the late-summer evening colours of the sky.