Page 1 of No Room at Dragon's Landing

Chapter One

Cyrus

A shrill squeal made everyone in my otherwise-quiet B&B stop what they were doing. Gertrude, sitting at her desk, knitting instead of working on the accounting, dropped her needles and chenille yarn and slapped her hands over her ears.

“I can’t believe we’re here!” The human female twirled in a circle, almost hitting other patrons with her tornado of bags and suitcases.

“Checking in?” I asked, chuckling. This was our first time being open for Dragon Fest, but we were ready. I’d made sure of it. The rooms were booked solid. The cleaning staff had worked so hard making sure everything was spotless. They always did a good job, but they knew as well as I did that the reviews from those who stayed during the festival would solidify the business and make sure we were booked in the future.

“Yes! Wait, are you a dragon?” The female whipped out a sheet of paper from her pocket—her printed-out reservation. Not necessary, of course. We had an online booking system and after typing in her confirmation number, I realized who she was. This was Trixie Scales, the human dragon seeker. While not famous in our circles, she was an influencer. At least, that was what others called her. She’d even made a note to tell us about her social media fame in the note section of her booking.

Didn’t matter to me. We gave each and every person here the same treatment—every guest.

“I’m sure you’re going to meet a lot of dragons this week. We’re honored to have you staying with us. Here is your room key. Arnaud will take your things to your room and answer any questions you have.”

The female cocked one eyebrow. “But you didn’t answer me.”

There was a time in history, not so long ago, that humans would’ve been put off by our kind, frightened beyond reason of dragons and shifters in general. Now they were fascinated and eager to learn. “We may not tell you directly, but there will be signs, human.” I allowed my eyes to flick between my human ones and my golden dragon ones with the slim, vertical pupil—the eyes every dragon had.

She gasped and bounced up and down, squealing again.

“Is this how it’s going to be all week?” Gertrude grumped, watching for the elevator doors to close on the guest before she complained.

“Yes. Be nice.”

“Cyrus Talon, I am always nice. And by ‘nice,’ I mean, I’m quiet.”

I snorted and shook my head. Gertrude was my aunt and a damned fine accountant, but she tended to be on the tail end of the spectrum on human and shifter relations. In her day, dragons stayed in the mountains with their hoards and their mates, happy to hide away, only flying when the conditions were absolutely safe and sound.

Now, every day was safe and sound, thanks to the new shifter regulations. No hunting animals in certain areas. No trapping or snaring dragons.

No hunting us down for our treasures or, worse, to cut off one of our scales.

“Good. You do that. I have that new sauna coming in today, right?”

She clicked the mouse after retrieving her needles and yarn from where she’d dropped them. “Yes. Delivery is today. And I hired someone to put it together. They’re waiting for our call about the delivery.”

“Huh?” I paused to answer a phone call and then turned to her. “Why are we paying someone to do what I am perfectly capable of doing?”

“Because you insist on manning the front desk even though you are the owner of this establishment and handling everything else including the management. You don’t have time. In fact, you don’t have time to fuss about it either. Say thank you.”

She was the only one allowed or dared to talk to me that way.

Also, she wasn’t wrong.

I was burning the candle at both ends and had been since we opened six months ago. New businesses grew with hard work and tireless efforts. I wanted to be the example to the other workers, not just some stiff in a suit, sitting behind closed doors in a plush chair, doling out orders.

Real managers work as hard, if not harder, than every other employee.

“Thank you. I’m going to go check on the menus for the week. Derrick said he wanted me to taste some things.”

Gertrude laughed. “Oh, what a hard job you have.”

I made my way through the lobby and checked on the coffee bar. I wasn’t surprised to find the coffee was fresh and the cookies still warm in the case. Arnaud took care of all things lobby, including the freshly baked cookies. He also carried suitcases to rooms because he claimed there wasn’t enough to keep him busy and, above all, that man loved to stay busy.

“Derrick?” I called out loudly. We only served brunch, which included some breakfast items but our chef never failed to surprise me.

“Here.” He walked over and slid a menu in front of me. “What do you think?”

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