Dragon Bound (Elder Races #1)(98)

Even if she tried she might not make it out of the Tower. There were a hell of a lot of stairs down to the street level. She might have five minutes to get out of the building, ten at most if she locked the bathroom door and the sentinels thought she was taking her own sweet time doing female things in the bathroom.

And what would she face if she did manage to get out? The danger from Urien and his forces hadn’t gone away just because she was having a bad day and needed to get the hell out of here.

Be smart for once. Don’t add another thing to your stupid list.

Nausea surged again. She closed her eyes, clenched her fists and fought her body for control.

Behind her, Bayne said, “Pia? Is everything all right?”

She took a deep breath, braced her shoulders and turned. She said, “Dragos said I could go anywhere. I need to go out.”

God knew what the expression on her face revealed. It could not have been good, for the gryphon regarded her with a sober face and concerned eyes, quite unlike his earlier cheer. “Can you tell me what you need?” he asked. “I would be more than happy to get you anything you want—”

Her self-control slipped its leash. She went into a meltdown. She whirled and kicked the door, which resonated with a hollow, metallic boom. The sound was kinda like a bomb going off in your face. It was kinda like finding out you’re pregnant when you shouldn’t be. Yeah, kinda like that.

“I need to go out,” she shouted. She pushed against the closed door with her fists. “I am not all right.” Kick. “I need to not talk about it. I need for Dragos to leave me the hell alone.” Kick. “I need for you to stop asking me questions and just take me where I need to go. Will you f**king do that for me or not?”

Suddenly Aryal was there. Both sentinels moved to stand on either side of her, their faces turning still and watchful. They moved like soldiers, athletic bodies light on their feet. Bayne’s easygoing demeanor had vaporized. He blanketed her in protective male energy and put a gentle hand on her back. “Of course we will,” he said. “We will take you anywhere you need to go.”

“Bayne,” Aryal said.

“Standing orders,” he said to her. The harpy’s lip curled but she said nothing.

Pia’s breath shook out of her. She turned blindly to the elevator. Bayne guided her inside. He kept a steadying hand on her shoulder while Aryal shifted to stand between her and the elevator doors. She wrapped her arms around her middle, staring blindly at a point between Aryal’s shoulders as the penthouse elevator plummeted eighty stories to the ground floor.

The doors opened and they strode out. Aryal remained on point while Bayne moved so close beside her his shoulder brushed hers while his sharp gaze roamed over the large, crowded ground floor. Then they pushed out the revolving doors into sunshine and a busy New York street.

She paused, one hand pressed to her abdomen. She could hardly believe it. They had actually kept to their word and taken her outside the Tower.

Silently Bayne urged her forward, toward a black Porsche SUV that had appeared as if by magic and idled at the curb. Aryal glanced around with a sharp gaze, tangled hair blowing across her angular face as she slid into the driver’s seat. Bayne opened the rear door for Pia. She climbed in, twisted around and barred him from sliding into the seat along with her. For a brief moment his gaze met hers, and the kindness and concern in his eyes pierced through her internal upheaval. Then he stepped back, closed her door and moved to the front passenger’s seat.

“Okay, Pia,” said Bayne. Aryal’s frigid gaze met hers in the rearview mirror. “Where to?”

“Brooklyn.” As Bayne’s hand went out to hover over the car’s GPS system, she said, “I’ll give you directions as you need them.”

The two sentinels exchanged a glance. “All right,” Aryal said.

The Porsche pulled into traffic.

Pia huddled in her seat and stared out the window as they passed the Fifty-ninth Street subway station. Dragos said in her head, Pia, what are you doing?

She closed her eyes. It had been too much to hope that the sentinels would keep quiet about their outing. What she wouldn’t give for a little privacy right now.

Don’t talk to me, she said to Dragos.

You left the Tower. His mental voice was so quiet and controlled it sent a chill down her spine. You promised you wouldn’t.

She snarled, I said don’t talk to me, you son of a bitch.

A heartbeat, and then, his calm quite stripped away, he demanded, What’s happened?

Shut up. Get out of my head.

Pia, goddammit. When she didn’t answer he roared, WHAT THE FUCK DID I DO NOW?

His telepathic shout reverberated in her skull. She clapped a hand to her forehead. Don’t yell at me like that. I can’t think! Give me a minute.

Her body felt numb, her seat belt the only thing anchoring her in place as Aryal suddenly cut across traffic. How could Dragos even ask her that? How could he not realize that she would know, now that she had made the full change to Wyr?

I’m sorry for shouting at you. He turned coaxing. Bayne and Aryal won’t say anything, just that you’re upset and they’re taking you where you need to go. Gray’s worried about you. We can talk about anything that’s wrong, can’t we? Pia, please. You’re killing me here.

Whatever else anyone might say about him, he had a wily wisdom that could slip inside a person like a stiletto. She wiped her eyes and tried to process. You don’t know . . . anything . . . about what’s going on?