Dragos Goes to Washington (Elder Races #8.5)(21)

“Of course not,” he snapped. “I was holding myself in check, goddammit.”

She considered him for a moment then said telepathically, I actually believe you think you are. Tiago said you and Pia were in a mating phase.

We are. Goddammit, of course Tiago with his sensitive sense of smell would pick up on that. Dragos might just buy some KO Odorless Odor Eliminator and join the Right to Privacy movement himself.

“Well, just so you know,” Niniane said aloud, patting his arm, “I’m pretty sure I overheard Ferion and Pia setting up an assignation for tomorrow at noon, for somewhere called the Paradise Motel.”

That snapped his gaze away from the dancing couple. He glowered at Niniane. “What the f*ck are you talking about? Pia would never set up an assignation with Ferion.”

“I know, right?” Niniane let out a peal of laughter. “Even smart men can be such dumbasses.” When he glared at her, she sobered somewhat and told him, “Stuff that mating nonsense down deep somewhere before you do something stupid. I mean, Dragos . . . Pia and Ferion? Come on.”

“You never used to talk to me that way when you lived in New York,” he said, his eyes narrowed.

“I never used to do a lot of things before I became Queen,” she said matter-of-factly. She gave him a small charming smile. “Besides, you like me, and I’m not telling you anything your brain isn’t already telling your hormones. You’ll deal with it.”

“Dictatorial little shit,” he muttered. “I don’t see you dancing with anybody.”

Her smile faded, and she looked sidelong at Tiago, who stood with his arms crossed, talking with Bayne.

“Yeah, well, I can call out irrational behavior, but I can’t necessarily stop it, can I?” she muttered in reply.

That snagged his full attention. Turning away from watching Pia on the dance floor, he studied Niniane as he switched to telepathy. Everything okay, pipsqueak?

She gave him a quick smile. Oh, everything’s fine. Don’t worry. Tiago and I just have a completely different relational dynamic than you and Pia. You and Pia are all out there—rings, public displays of affection, matrimony and a child, etc. But Tiago and I have to be more discreet about our relationship.

He frowned and rubbed his jaw. Is that a problem?

She shook her head. No, not as things stand currently. I’m pretty sure we’re a well-known secret in Dark Fae society, but as long as we don’t flaunt anything, they’re accepting it. They’re accepting him.

That’s good, he murmured.

It is, but there’s always that slight tension, you know? He has to refrain from making any public statement of claiming me, and in return, I try to act with a little more sensitivity about things, like dancing with other males in public. We’re balancing things just fine.

As he listened, his gaze fell on the vice president and her husband, dancing the waltz. He asked, What if the balance shifts?

Niniane’s mental voice remained firm and strong. We don’t let it shift. Right now, we’re both engaged, challenged and satisfied with our status quo. If we decide we want to do something else, or have a different definition of our lives and relationship, I’ll abdicate and we’ll go somewhere else.

Go somewhere else.

They would have to, since, much as the Dark Fae had accepted Tiago for what he was, they would never accept a marriage between their Queen and a Wyr ex-sentinel. Curiously, he asked, You could give up all that power, now that you have it?

Absolutely, if it was the right thing for either Tiago or me—for us both. She gave him a quick smile. And anyway, my point is, we’re in a different place than you and Pia are. So even though you’ve got all those mating hormones running around in your dragony head, keep your sights fixed on why you and Pia broke up Jered and Isalynn before they came to blows. There’s a lot at stake here.

Point taken. He crossed his arms. And, I might add—again—I haven’t killed anybody yet. I should get credit for that.

She patted him on the shoulder and switched to verbal speech. “Let’s just keep it that way while we’re all in D.C., ’kay?”

He shook his head grimly. “I’m doing my best, pipsqueak.”

She snorted. “I’d say we’re all probably doing our best to at least appear to get along. Which is pretty pathetic when you think about it. If you really have to eat somebody, at least please wait until Tiago and I leave for home again.”

His mind switched gears. “You’re not going to attend the Masque in New York?”

Annually, on the winter solstice, the Elder Races celebrated the Masque of the Gods. Dragos always threw a lavish party in the city for the event, and when Niniane lived with them, she used to love attending.

She sighed. “No, I’m afraid not. The solstice is still two months away, and we can’t stay that long, not with the time slippage being what it is between Earth and Adriyel. We have things we need to attend to back at home.”

“Understood.” He crossed his arms. “Pia will be disappointed, but there isn’t much that can be done about that.”

She grinned up at him. “You’ll just have to come visit us in Adriyel someday.”

He raised an eyebrow. “That would be an interesting trip.”

“I can just see it now,” she declared, spreading out both hands. “Everybody would shit themselves to have the dragon come onto Dark Fae land. It would be glorious.”