Lord's Fall (Elder Races #5)(16)

Hell, she was woefully inadequate. There wasn’t a single thing that qualified her to act as the Lord of the Wyr’s mate, except that she was actually his mate.

When she confessed how nervous she was about the trip, Dragos hadn’t exactly been unsympathetic. But he had certainly been less than helpful. Once he finally conceded to her arguments and she accepted the Elves’ invitation to visit, the whole subject occupied the area of settled in his mind.

“You’re going to be great,” he said. “Don’t sweat it. Just be yourself.”

“You’re no help at all,” she mumbled into her pillow.

She sounded drugged. She felt drugged. She was lying on her stomach on the bed while he massaged her neck and shoulders, his powerful hands digging into her muscles with slow, sensuous care. Whenever he touched her, he moved his hands as if he savored every sensation, every curve and hollow of her body, and that was possibly even more intoxicating than the actual massage itself.

“Of course I’m not any help,” Dragos said. “I don’t actually want you to go.” He paused, then scratched the edge of his fingernails lightly along the bare skin of her back as he asked slyly, “So does that mean you’re going to cancel the trip?”

She shivered all over and sighed. “No.”

“Then shut up and go,” he told her. His gentle tone was in direct contrast with the brusque words.

She lifted her head and stuck out her tongue at him. It was a stupid, childish thing to do, especially when she had been enjoying that back rub so very much.

He retaliated by rolling her onto her back, taking hold of her jaw gently and leaning over her with a machete smile. Just before he brought his mouth down to hers, he muttered, “I’ve got better uses for that, you know.”

Boy howdy, did he have better uses for that.

• • •

While the Offices of the Elven High Lord, Calondir, were located in downtown Charleston, his consort Beluviel had invited Pia to Lirithriel House at three o’clock for tea. The house, along with its famous gardens, was the public face of the Elves. It was located an easy half an hour’s commute from Charleston and it bordered the actual heart of the Elven demesne, Lirithriel Wood.

The rain had stopped late in the morning. They traveled through a green countryside that sparkled in the pale yellow light of a winter afternoon sun. As they drove north, the sense of land magic grew more powerful. They passed through a small town with several shops and restaurants along the stretch of road that approached Lirithriel House. Pedestrians packed the quaint, Colonial-style cobblestone side streets. The Elven-run businesses enjoyed a robust tourist trade, no matter what the season.

Eva drove Pia’s SUV again. Everyone maintained the same positions they had traveled in the day before. All the psychos wore black. Pia couldn’t decide if that actually dressed them up or made them look like drug dealers. Maybe both. It did make them look scarier, at least as far as she was concerned.

She tugged at the edge of her lavender Dior wool Grisaille Bar jacket and checked her patent leather, peep-toed pumps for scuff marks. Beluviel was famous for her beauty and style, and Pia had looked hard for the right kind of outfit to wear for their first meeting. With the help of Stanford, the personal shopper Dragos had retained for her, she had settled on a suit that conveyed a sense of Jackie Kennedy’s suits—or at least she hoped it did. The jacket, matching dress and shoes cost as much as a quality used car.

Just months ago she would have been really happy to own that car. She and her mother had lived frugally throughout her childhood, while her mother had put their diminishing resources into hiding escape packs with cash and new identities in various places throughout New York.

Her mother’s version of setting aside nest eggs for a rainy day had been more like preparing for immediate evacuation in case of catastrophe. After her mother’s death, Pia had honored those choices by leaving the escape packs untouched while she had lived on the modest income she made tending bar.

She thought it might boost her self-confidence if she wore something high-end and classic when she met Beluviel, but instead that morning the expensive suit just added to her nervousness. She was going to spill something down the front of that gorgeous wool suit or break a heel, she just knew it.

You can take a girl out of a Target store, she thought, but you can’t take the Target store out of the girl.

“Stop fussing,” Johnny muttered under his breath. “You look fine.”

Pia took a deep breath and looked sideways. Johnny had his nose buried in his video game again. Compared to the others, his narrow bone structure was almost delicate. “How can you tell? I don’t think you’ve looked up once since you turned that thing on.”

An angelic-looking smile touched his lips, an expression that was there and gone again so fast, she would have missed it if she hadn’t been watching him. “Scoped you out when you came down the stairs earlier. I’d commit murder to borrow that suit. Those shoes would be too small for me though.”

She turned to look at him again. In the front seat both Eva and James had gone still and watchful, and while she applauded their protective instincts, it wasn’t necessary.

She said, “Are you any good with makeup?”

Johnny’s gaze lit up, and he looked from his game.

Eva snorted. “He’s better than anyone I know.”