Dragos stilled. “Where did you get that?”
“My Queen gave it to me and ordered me to use it,” Morgan told him. “But it does more harm than she promised.”
He tossed it high in the air, and the amulet fell to the ground on Dragos’s side of the barrier. Dragos bared his teeth. “What happened to the ‘my Queen commands, and I am compelled to obey’ shit?”
Morgan raised his eyebrows. “She did command, and I have obeyed. But now I am done.”
With that, he turned and walked away. Within a few steps, the fire appeared to swallow him whole. At the same moment, the barrier melted away.
Scooping up the amulet in one giant claw, Dragos lunged after the other man, but Morgan had disappeared completely from his sight and his senses.
After stalking around the area for several moments, eventually he gave up the hunt. Instead, he turned his attention to the deadly amulet he clutched in one claw. The amulet was made of a large, faceted onyx stone that reflected the dying fire.
Normally, onyx didn’t work well for holding magic. The harder jewels, like diamonds and rubies, worked the best for containing magic. Whoever had created the amulet had had a particular flare for Death magic.
As partial as the dragon was to items of jewelry, there were some things too dangerous to hoard.
He concentrated his Power on the amulet, working to crush the magic even as he squeezed his claw to crush the stone.
At first both magic and stone resisted. It was incredibly strong. Drawing on more Power, and all of his strength, he gritted massive teeth and strained until he felt an invisible snap, and the onyx broke. He crushed it until there was nothing left but dust.
Chapter Ten
After he destroyed the amulet, he turned his concentration to the fire that still blazed in places. Pulling hard, he drew the flames back into him. For a brief time he was immersed in fire. Closing his eyes and breathing deeply, he let his consciousness be immersed in the brilliant heat.
When it subsided, he contacted Aryal telepathically. The herd of infected here are all incinerated. I killed a couple of Hounds, but I didn’t manage to kill Morgan. He’s gone.
Too bad, the harpy said. Vindictiveness tinged her voice, like the sharp edge of her claws. You okay?
Yes. Morgan gave me the source of the contagion. It was magical in nature. I’ve destroyed it. As he talked, he launched into the air. I’m going back to Tatiana’s. Work with Shane until you’re sure the rest of the infected are burned. I might have destroyed the source, but they can still spread the contagion through their bites. Report back when you are all confident the job is done.
Understood.
There was no way Dragos was going to show up at Tatiana’s without making sure he had gotten rid of any lingering traces of the amulet. Flying due west for a half a mile or so, he dove into the ocean until he reached the sandy floor. Scooping up clawfuls of sand, he surfaced again and scrubbed at himself until he felt certain that he was entirely clean.
Only then did he head back to Bel Air, winging through the distance at a tired, leisurely pace.
This time, he landed a couple of blocks down the street and shapeshifted back into a man so that he could walk the rest of the way toward the large, sprawling mansion. The sun had not yet set, but it was low enough in the sky that it had gone down below the silhouette of the surrounding houses, throwing deep shadows across the lawns and the street.
As he walked, he admired the ultra-landscaped lawns in front of the other Bel Air properties. He said in Pia’s head, I’m so glad we don’t have a lot of flowers and other plant froufrou around our house. I’d never feel comfortable about shapeshifting, in case I accidentally knocked shit over with my tail, or trampled a rose garden.
Which is exactly why we don’t have all that. There was a smile in Pia’s voice as she replied. Between you, Liam, all of the sentinels and various other Wyr, if we had any kind of fancy garden, it would get trampled to dirt inside of a month. If you can chitchat lawn care, should I take it to mean that whatever situation was out there is taken care of?
Yes, you should. I’m walking up to Tatiana’s house right now. I’ll tell you about it later. He paused. He hadn’t had anything to do with either the interior design or landscaping of the house. Pia had done all of that, and she had thought everything through very thoroughly. He told her, You are a wise woman.
Pleasure warmed her voice. I do have my moments, don’t I? But then … I have other moments too. Dragos, I have to confess something. Tatiana nailed me down about your memory loss, and I couldn’t find a way to wiggle out of admitting the truth.
Oh, for fuck’s sake, he sighed. He felt a brief impulse to strangle the Light Fae Queen. How much does she know?
Well … pretty much an abbreviated version of everything. I never would have volunteered to tell her anything, but she had already guessed that the contagion hadn’t really messed with your thinking. She told me quite a story, both how she and Isabeau became estranged, and also something of your time at the Seelie Court.
Briefly, he wrestled with his pride, and pragmatism won. Did she give you any indication what I was doing at Isabeau’s Court?
Not really. She indulged in some speculation, but she didn’t know anything for sure. She said you and Isabeau sort of flirted, but sort of acted edgy around each other. She didn’t know if you were ever lovers, or even if you had parted on friendly terms.
As Pia talked, he grew close enough that Tatiana’s mansion came into view.
He told her, I don’t remember any other lover but you.
I don’t believe you.
I don’t. I know the facts of other lovers, but all the real, visceral memory, or any emotion has burned away. Those lovers happened to someone else, the man I was before I met you.
She had stepped out onto the lawn. Eva and a couple of vigilant Light Fae guards stood with her, but as the Light Fae guards were actually guarding her, he didn’t mind them so much. When they saw him, they didn’t draw their weapons. Another win for the day.
Pia saw him at the same time. He started walking faster, and she gathered her skirt up in one hand and broke into a run. She flew down the driveway, and the eager light on her face was simply everything.
She hit him in the chest with her full weight, flinging her arms around his neck. Laughing, he spread his feet wide to absorb the impact and snatched her close. She held him so tightly, she damn near strangled him, and he knew he all but crushed her ribs.
Burying his face into her neck, he growled, “I hated not being able to touch you.”
“I know. I felt the same.” Greedily, she stroked the back of his head, and his shoulders. “You’re okay? Quentin and Aryal—they’re okay?”
“They’re fine. From the way Aryal talked, I believe Shane is fine too, but I don’t know anything about Shane’s men.” He rubbed his face in her hair, tightened his arms until she squeaked, then eased his hold on her. “Come on, let’s go inside. That way I can tell this story just once.”
Together, they turned and walked to the house. He kept his arm around her shoulders, and she slipped an arm around his waist. She told him telepathically, I gave myself the injection.
He had no longer been worried, but still, the confirmation lightened his spirits. Good. That means you’re going to feel tired and achy—or do you feel that way already?
I’m pretty tired, she admitted.
She never complained about it. Not once. Everything she said about the pregnancy was filled with a positive attitude and eagerness for the new arrival. He replied, I take it that means you do feel achy too.
She shrugged. It’s okay.
He tightened his arm around her shoulders and said aloud, “And that means you need to go to bed soon. See, I’m figuring out your encoded messages.”
She gave him a brief, laughing glance.
Tatiana herself came to the front door, meeting them as they were about to step in. She smiled at him. “I just heard from Bailey. They have
a few areas they need to scour, but she thinks the tide has turned now.”
“It has,” Dragos said.
“Come back to the family room and tell me what happened.” Turning, she led the way to the back of the house.
Settling on one of the couches, with Pia curled at his side, he told Tatiana and Pia about the encounter with Morgan, and the amulet, which he had destroyed.
“I don’t know how she could let something like that loose in the world,” Tatiana murmured, looking ill. “We skirted so close to catastrophe. As it is, I’ve lost hundreds of my people.”
Something teased at the back of his mind, and he paused, waiting to see what came of the sensation. It felt like memory … or almost a memory. Then, in the next instance, the feeling was gone. Frustrated, he shook his head.
“Isabeau needs to die,” he said crisply. Pia rested her head on his shoulder, and he pressed a brief kiss to her forehead. “But then, so many people do. And the reality of it is, she’s very well guarded. She has full control over her Other land, and her Hounds appear to be completely loyal to her. And Morgan is—formidable. I’ll never understand how obsessive people can command such fanatic loyalty.”
“Well, she has more than her fair share of the Light Fae charisma, which would help.” Tatiana’s gaze fell to Pia. Suddenly her face softened, and she smiled. Looking back up at Dragos, she put a finger to her lips.
He raised his eyebrows. Then he tilted his head to look into Pia’s face. She had fallen deeply asleep. Her lashes cast long shadows on the curve of her cheeks, and her soft, full mouth had gone lax.
She whispered, “I remember those days too, when I was pregnant.”
“Tatiana,” he said in a soft, gentle voice, so as not to disturb his sleeping wife, “if you try to kick me out tonight, I’ll make it my personal mission to tear Bel Air down around your ears.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it,” Tatiana said quietly. “You have helped us tremendously today, and I am very grateful. We still need to adhere to the terms of the diplomatic pact, but I think we can get away with you staying one night. And frankly, what you choose to do with the rest of your week is none of my business. I’m certainly not going to be spying on you, should you and Pia meet up somewhere while she is out and about this week.”
“Thank you,” he said, relaxing.
“For tonight, I’ll have one of my guards show you where her suite is.”
The Queen stood, and he gathered Pia’s warm, soft weight into his arms and stood also. Then he paused. One other thing, he said telepathically.
Tatiana paused as well, and looked at him inquiringly.
Don’t poke at my wife about her Wyr form, he said. He gave her one of his hardest warning looks. I mean it, Tatiana. Leave her alone about it. She told me you had questioned her in D.C. Her Wyr form is shy by nature, and in the early days of our mating, it was a real strain for her to contemplate being with me. She gave up a lot to be my mate. She’s had to adapt to the limelight, and I won’t have her bullied or pressured over it.
The Light Fae Queen pursed her lips in a disappointed moue. Oh, very well. She paused. By the way, I’ve heard a preliminary report from my doctors who are studying your blood samples. They’re quite electrified at what they’re finding. They think they’ve isolated the contagion and might be able to develop something from it, which will be hugely useful if there are any more outbreaks. Also, apparently your blood is intensely magical in nature, but then nobody is surprised by that. And there’s something else—something truly unique, and they don’t know quite what to make of it.
Pia had already tried to heal him before his blood had been drawn. Was it something from her, or was it something inherent to him? Had she healed him after all?
Maybe the protocol had suppressed her nature but had not entirely negated it. Her blood might have worked, but very slowly. Or perhaps he had thrown off the effects of the contagion, himself.
They would never know for sure.
For now, he injected scorn into his mental voice. Tell me, have any of your doctors ever studied dragon’s blood before?
Her brows twitched together. You know they have not.
He snorted. Then of course it’s truly unique.
Cocking her head, she smiled wryly. You do have a point.
He reached out for Grym. I hear they’ve isolated the contagion.
They sure have, and in record time, Grym said. There’s a celebratory air right now in this lab.
Time to destroy all the blood samples. Make sure they’re incinerated, so that not a single cell is left.
You got it. Oh, the weeping and gnashing of teeth that will shortly commence.
Dragos smiled to himself. They hadn’t preserved every one of their secrets. But they had managed to preserve the most important one.
Then Tatiana stepped to the door, opened it, and he carried Pia through to the hallway, and up to the suite.
* * *
Pia walked along her favorite trail, enjoying the fall colors.
Wait a minute. She had already done this before. Remembering jolted her so that she realized she was dreaming.
Tilting her head, she walked slowly and listened for a small, stealthy rustle. Sure enough, she heard it, behind her and a little to the left.
She didn’t turn around or do anything to spook her small shadow. Instead, pretending to ignore it, she walked along slowly, thinking.
Soon, she came to an area where the trail opened up and the land flattened to form a high, grassy meadow atop a bluff that overlooked the land’s long decline. Eventually that decline would lead to their house, which was half hidden by the surrounding trees. Beyond the house lay the flat blue shimmer of the nearby lake.
Strolling through the small meadow, she picked a spot and settled cross-legged on the ground, looking over the countryside. The scene was beautiful, with rolling hills covered with the brilliant gold, yellow and vermillion of the fall foliage. She loved everything about upstate New York in the autumn.
A small rustle might be approaching. Happiness filled her. Cocking her head, she listened to the slight, cautious sounds behind her and fought not to laugh. What would her shadow decide to do now?
Something sharp poked her in the lower back, over her left kidney. She swept a hand behind her to move the stick, or weed, or whatever it was, but her hand encountered nothing but air.
Hm.
The sharp something poked her again.
Moving gently, so as to not frighten the wary shadow away, she twisted to look over her shoulder.
Underneath the slender spire of a horn, fierce gold eyes looked back at her.
Oh, holy gods. She froze. She didn’t even dare to breathe.
The small creature standing just behind her shoulder was … was …
It was small like a newborn foal, all gangly legs and overlarge head, with a narrow, racy body. And it was dark bronze all over, almost exactly the same shade that Dragos was in his dragon form, with the colors darkening to black at the legs, nose and tail.
And it had that slender horn at the middle of its forehead. The horn would lengthen and sharpen as it grew to adulthood, but for now, it was short and well suited for a baby’s developing neck muscles.
“Oh, Stinkpot,” she whispered. “You’re so beautiful.”
And so frightening.
This was the creature that carried the fiery Power that Liam had sensed. Those eyes, that coloring, were so like Dragos. If its personality was as fiery as its Power, it would have a royal temper. A temper that might even override all the instincts of its Wyr nature, instincts that would urge it to run and hide, or take the less obvious path to avoid detection and danger.
Swishing its tail, Stinkpot bent its head to nibble at the yellowing grass. While it acted like it was distracted, Pia carefully, carefully tightened her stomach muscles and leaned back to see if she could catch a glimpse between its slender, gangly legs.
Oh my God. Stinkpot was male. Delight, wonder and sheer terro
r clanged through her head like a three-bell alarm.
She whispered, “Are you okay if I pick you up now, darling?”
At the sound of her voice, Stinkpot flicked an ear but didn’t appear to be otherwise concerned. Moving slowly and gently, she twisted around to stroke his neck. His body was that of a newborn foal, but he carried the promise of power in the regal arch of his neck, and in the deep width of his chest.
He would be fast, she knew. Faster than almost anybody else, and he would be able to run for miles without tiring. She could see it all too well in her mind’s eye. He would be talented at running all right, but instead of running away from danger, he would run straight toward it.
Stinkpot shifted and reached, as if to nibble at another blade of grass. It also happened to bring his neck closer underneath her hand, so that she could scratch more skin.
“I see what you’re about now, young man,” she crooned gently. “And I already know that you’re going to like keeping your secrets. Are you going to be sneaky too like your daddy?”
He let out a whuffle, as if agreeing, and she couldn’t hold back any longer. Reaching around him, she picked him up and gathered him close. He didn’t protest or struggle. As she settled him in her lap, he folded those ridiculous, overlong legs and tucked his head in the crook of her arm. Bending over him, she buried her face in the thick, coarse hair of his mane.
Funny how love works. Peanut had stolen her heart, and she adored Liam with all of her being. Now Stinkpot stole her heart all over again.
Both her sons were thieves, yet somehow she felt her heart still in her chest, beating hard from wonder, and it was full to bursting.
A large hand cupped her hip, traveled up the curve of her torso and flattened against the middle of her chest. Dragos murmured in her ear, “Pia, it’s all right. You’re just having a nightmare. Wake up.”
As she startled, the dream vanished.
“Ssh, calm down.” Dragos’s voice was slow, deep and easy. He kissed the back of her neck. “Your heart is racing ninety miles an hour.”
Pia Does Hollywood Page 12
