“That’s all right,” he told her. “My last name is Dragon.”

“Doctor Dragon?”

“Doctor Drake Dragon.”

“Oh dear.” She giggled. “We’re both cartoons.”

“You realize, of course, that we must get married.” He said this with a perfectly straight face, which made her laugh harder.

“It’s just too good a story to tell our grandchildren,” she agreed. “But first I have to do this. So good-bye.”

“Come down and have breakfast with me instead,” he coaxed.

Interestingly, she was tempted. He really was a stone fox. And she hadn’t been on a date in…let’s see, she had been able to legally drink for three years, and there was that guy who took her to the rave right after…

Wait a minute.

“Wait a minute!” God, she was slow this morning. “You’re the blind guy from the alley!” Except he didn’t seem blind. He’d checked her pupils, for crying out loud.

“Yes,” he confirmed.

“You don’t seem very blind.”

He hesitated and then said again, “Have breakfast with me.”

“Why?”

“You might as well. I’m not going to let you jump.”

She sighed. “Well. I am hungry.” And I can ditch this guy after I cadge a free meal off him. “Okay. Lead on, MacDuff.”

Chapter 5

He offered her his arm when they were at street level, and her smell shifted to amusement—ripe oranges. After a moment, she grasped it.

“Cripes, I can’t even get my fingers around your bicep. D’you work out, like, nine times a day?”

“No. But I like to keep in shape.”

“Y’know, we don’t have to go anywhere fancy,” she said. “We could just get a cup of coffee.”

“You’re underweight for your height. We’ll get a proper meal.”

“Bossy,” she coughed into her fist.

He smiled. “Yes.” It was all he could do not to gape at her like a schoolboy. He had no idea why he could see her, but the effect hadn’t worn off with daylight…she was like a flame in a street of shadows. “I’m afraid it runs in my family.”

“Can I ask you something? How come you don’t use a dog? And where’s your cane? Didn’t you have one last night?”

“I get around pretty well,” he said, avoiding her question. “I’ve been blind all my life. It’s all I know.”

“Oh. Well, like I said, you don’t seem blind.”

He shrugged. Humans always told him that.

Over a breakfast of three pancakes, six pieces of toast, and two cups of coffee (hers), and a bowl of oatmeal (his), they talked.

“Don’t you want some ham or bacon? Please, order whatever you like. I can assure you I’m good for it.”

She shuddered. “No, thanks. I’m a vegetarian.”

“Oh.” Hmm. That could be interesting. “You know, that’s really not the best diet for an omnivore.”