Dragos Goes to Washington (Elder Races #8.5)(15)

Bayne helped himself to another slice of ham. “The not-so-good news—there are thousands of people outside the White House, protesting the summit. It’s been all over the news. There’s been backlash to that as well on the news, with some idiots on the other side putting down the human protestors for being close-minded bigots.” The sentinel looked at Pia. “I know you were looking forward to doing some sightseeing if you could find any time, but I don’t recommend it. Not for this trip.”

The pleasure died from Pia’s expression, and she looked tired and pale again. She said quietly, “Of course, that doesn’t matter.”

It did matter. Anything that drained the smile from her face mattered. Likely nothing dangerous would happen in any potential sightseeing jaunt, but there could be some unpleasantness.

Dragos told her, “Civil unrest happens all the time. Look at the sixties and the Vietnam War. We’ll come back when things have calmed down. I’ll take you sightseeing, myself.”

“I’d like that,” she told him. Abruptly, she set aside her cutlery. “If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go get ready for the evening.”

He glanced at her plate. She had eaten perhaps half of her food.

Eva stood too. “I’ll check to see if they’re done ironing your dress and bring it up if they are.”

“Thanks.” Pia stepped close to press a kiss to Dragos’s forehead. She told him telepathically, I ate what I wanted. Don’t fuss.

I don’t fuss, goddammit, he growled.

She chuckled in his head as she walked away. Keep telling that to yourself, my love.

He glowered at her plate but didn’t say another word.

*     *     *

Breathing evenly, Pia climbed the magnificent staircase on shaky legs.

She managed to get to the bathroom in the master suite before she began vomiting. Rushing to the bathroom sink instead of the toilet, because it was closer, she made it just in time before her body struggled to rid itself of everything she had just put in her stomach.

When she finished, she hung her head, panting, while she tried to think.

I’m usually healthy as a horse.

(Heh. Horse.)

Why would I start vomiting now, of all times? The timing seems awfully suspicious.

Putting her hand to her abdomen, she sent her awareness into her body again. This time, she wasn’t distracted by the jet landing. She didn’t do just a cursory scan, but went deeper than she had before.

No life spark. Not even the tiniest, newest hint of a little spark.

Unwelcome tears filled her eyes. It was stupid to feel such disappointment. She needed to find some emotional ballast. They had barely started to try to get pregnant. Realistically, it could take them a very long time before they either got pregnant or eventually gave up.

And she was okay with that, except . . . why was she shaky and vomiting all of a sudden?

“I can’t get sick,” she muttered. “Not now of all times. This trip is too important.”

Let alone the question of what was making her sick. She didn’t get colds. She rarely, if ever, caught the flu, and anyway, flu season had barely started. It was far more likely for her to break a limb than to come down with some kind of illness.

Glancing at the sink had her stomach lurching again. Quickly, she turned on the water to rinse out the basin as footsteps sounded in the bedroom.

Eva called out, “I’ve got the dress.”

“Great,” she said, watching the water swirl away the last of the evidence.

“You sound so thrilled,” Eva told her dryly. Pia hadn’t had a chance to close the bathroom door, so Eva appeared in the open doorway. The other woman frowned. “What’s wrong?”

Straightening from the sink, Pia wiped her mouth as she replied, “What makes you think something is wrong?”

Eva’s dark gaze narrowed. “Because you look like shit.”

Eva was utterly devoted to her, and completely loyal, except, Pia knew, in one instance. If Eva thought something was wrong with Pia, she would tell Dragos in a heartbeat, despite what Pia might have to say about it.

And if Dragos thought for a second that something was wrong, he would overreact.

He would ditch the summit and fly her personally back to New York to a whole herd of Wyr doctors.

But despite what Dragos said about civil unrest, this summit was too important to ditch. People protested any number of things, yet this issue had infiltrated the U.S. government. Lawmakers were unsettled, and that meant the worst kind of trouble if they couldn’t repair relations.

Pia wasn’t exactly sure what the worst kind of trouble would mean. Her imagination wasn’t good enough to create something that seemed dire enough, but she did know the schism would be felt across the entire country and throughout the rest of the world.

What was a bout or two of vomiting in the face of something like that?

So she lied. Well, misdirected, at least.

“I was up all night having crazy monkey sex,” she said, turning away from Eva’s too-sharp gaze to go back into the bedroom and look for her purse. “Of course I look like shit. That’s why I’m going to slap ten pounds of makeup on my face after I take a shower.”

Eva shrugged. “Okay. Need anything else?”

“No thanks, you can go get ready now.” With Dragos so touchy at the moment, Eva was not just Pia’s main bodyguard but probably her only one for the week.