Dragon Bound (Elder Races #1)(77)

A moment later his face darkened with rage, the swift transformation so inexplicable and unexpected, she recoiled. He strode toward her and yanked her against his side.

“She’s not alone. We’re here. We’ve got her,” said Graydon from around the corner, behind her. The gryphon had followed her. He stood not five feet away, relaxed but alert with his back against the wall.

She looked around as Dragos glared down the hall. Rune had planted himself several feet farther away. He was still arguing with Tiago and Tricks, but he had positioned himself between them and Graydon and Pia.

The rigidity left Dragos’s body and his expression eased. That was when Pia caught up. She pinched her lower lip between thumb and forefinger. His look of rage hadn’t been for her. It had been for her bodyguards. She said to him, “If I ever make you that mad—again—you will give me a chance to apologize, right?”

He pulled her hand away from her mouth and kissed her swiftly. “You won’t make me that mad again.”

She was all too aware of the young shaggy male’s fascinated gaze. Dusky color painted her cheekbones. She patted Dragos’s arm and murmured, “As long as you believe that, big guy.”

He turned, pulling her with him. “Pia, this is one of my assistants, Kristoff.”

She met the shaggy Wyr’s gaze, which was lit with appreciation. He gave her a shy smile. “Hi.”

Pia’s day brightened. Not everybody disliked her at first sight. She said, “It’s nice to meet you.”

“Take ten,” Dragos said to Kristoff. He led Pia into his office.

Vertical blinds were pulled back from the two outer walls, and the large office was filled with bright, hot, early-afternoon sunlight. She blinked, dazzled. She gestured at the door and said, “I didn’t mean to interrupt. They were all busy talking outside and I thought I would just take a quick peek—”

“They were the ones interrupting. They’re making enough noise to wake the dead,” Dragos said. He punched a button on the wall. With a near-soundless motor purr the vertical blinds closed over the windows, remaining half open but providing some shade from the blinding blaze of light. “Your arrival was a welcome bonus.”

Her attention returned to the windows and the cloudless bright blue sky outside. “We heard thunder?”

He sighed. “Tiago’s Wyr form is the thunderbird. Lightning and thunder come when he really loses it. It’s something to see in battle. Normally his temper is much better controlled, but everybody’s on edge right now.”

Pia caught sight of the two landscapes hanging on the inner walls. “Oh, these are magnificent,” she breathed. She walked toward them. The aerial landscape effect had been created by a mix of media, with paint, cloth, glitter and beads. The day landscape had a river cutting across the canvas. The night landscape conveyed an impression of towns scattered over a patchwork land. They couldn’t be more perfect for him. She could just see him sitting at his desk and looking at them as he imagined flying overhead, and he contemplated all the parts that comprised the whole. She turned to smile her delight at Dragos. “More patterns.”

His expression lightened with surprise and pleasure. He said simply, “Yes.”

A tapping made them both turn. Tricks stood with a sheepish smile in the open doorway. She said to Pia, “I’m so sorry you had to witness what happened in the hall.”

Grinning, Dragos said to the faerie, “Goddamn, ma’am.”

The faerie’s cheeks darkened. She said, “What, you’ve never said something stupid in a fit of temper?”

“Never,” said Dragos. He snagged Pia’s wrist and pulled her with him as he leaned back against his desk. As she settled at his side, he drew light circles on her back.

Pia coughed. He looked at her. She muttered behind her hand, “Big roar, last week?”

His fingers slid under the hem of her shirt, and he pinched her. Pia jerked upright and huffed at him.

Preoccupied with her own sense of grievance, Tricks didn’t notice their byplay. She said, “Dragos, you’ve got to do something. Tiago’s giving me fits.”

“Clearly,” said Dragos.

Tricks scowled. She told Pia, “I’m great friends with all the other sentinels, but I barely know this guy. He’s always off somewhere fighting things. Over the last two hundred years we’ve had maybe a dozen conversations whenever he’s been called back to New York. Suddenly he’s seething and snarling around the place, thinking he can tell me what to do?” The faerie turned to Dragos. “He’s a junkyard dog. He shouldn’t be allowed in the house. Would you please send him back to South America?”

“The South America contract is unimportant. I canceled it a half hour ago,” said Dragos. “We’re pulling the rest of the troops home.”

Tricks’s slender shoulders sagged. She wore the expression of someone watching her life crash in pieces around her. Pia’s mouth slid into a sympathetic pout. She knew just how the faerie felt.

Tricks gave her a grim smile. “How about some alcohol with lunch?”

“Sounds good to me,” said Pia.

FOURTEEN

Pia and Tricks said good-bye to Dragos and left his offices. In the hall, Graydon and Rune were talking to Tiago. Tricks ignored the trio as she sailed past them. Tiago glared after her. The handsome laughing man Pia had glimpsed so briefly was once again supplanted by the hatchet-faced assassin. Pia matched the faerie’s shorter stride and kept her expression scrupulously neutral.