Lord's Fall (Elder Races #5)(61)

Dragos frowned. That meant Grym had stayed home to keep the peace in New York, which was standard protocol for the sentinels when something extraordinary called them away, but the last bit puzzled him. Plus two?

When I made the announcement to halt the Games, Rune asked me what happened, so I told him, Graydon replied. At least I told him what I knew. He and Carling came to help.

Reaction pulsed through Dragos, every bit as complex as when he had first caught that faint whiff of Rune in the arena. He looked around the chaos in the Elven cell block. Those who had died had been discovered, and a frantic effort was being made to revive them with CPR. Unfortunately, it wouldn’t work. Their spirits had already left their bodies, although he doubted anyone would appreciate it if he pointed that out.

He said to Calondir, “There is nothing else I can do here.”

Distracted, Calondir nodded. “I will be up momentarily.” The High Lord’s gaze lifted to his. “We must not delay any longer.”

“Agreed.” He said to Graydon, I’m on my way.

An echo of his earlier thoughts ghosted through his head again as he walked outside, Miguel following close on his heels.

You should have said something earlier.

I should have listened better to you.

He stepped into the death-scented night, caught sight of Pia and Eva standing with Rune and Carling, and clenched his jaw as he strode toward them. Everyone else swirled away from him, like sparks shooting from the flames of the forest fire, each one a bright but ephemeral light. Even the Elves, who were so long-lived in comparison to many others, seemed ephemeral to him, and so easily extinguished.

He stopped and crossed his arms when he reached the quartet. His frowning gaze traveled from Pia, who stood side by side with her bodyguard, to Rune and at last to Carling, where his gaze lingered. The witch returned his regard with equanimity, her expression calm.

Whatever she and Rune had done when they had gotten together last summer, they had caused reality to shift so that the other gryphons felt it a continent away in New York. And they had done it not once, but three times—four if Dragos counted that last, strange ripple that had occurred in the confrontation in the meadow at the Oracle’s. The events were disturbing and mysterious, and Dragos did not like disturbing mysteries.

“I am surprised that you are still alive,” he said to her.

Carling smiled. “No one is more surprised about that than I am.”

The dragon took jealous note of the affectionate glance she gave Rune and that he returned.

Then Dragos relaxed and shook his head, and finally let it all go.

“I’m not sorry,” he said to Rune. “We were overextended, I didn’t know she was salvageable, and you were not expendable.” He paused then added slowly, “But I should have listened when you asked me to.”

Rune sucked a tooth, considering what Dragos said. Then he replied, “I think I was in denial about mating for a long time, and I should have said something sooner. But I’m not sorry either. You were pigheaded and autocratic.”

There was that word again. Dragos sighed. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Carling put a casual hand over her mouth. Pia didn’t even bother to hide her smile. “Do you know how much the blasted Games are costing me?” Dragos demanded. “I never would have bothered to hold them to replace just one sentinel.”

Rune grinned. “I’ve seen Cuelebre Enterprises’ bank accounts. You can afford it.”

Dragos glowered at his former First. He asked telepathically, Are you doing well—is she well?

The gryphon sobered. We’re both very well, thank you. It’s good to see you and Pia doing so well too.

Dragos switched back to verbal conversation. “And what are you two doing? You’ve got a hell of a lot of talent gathering in Miami. It’s making people nervous.”

Rune and Carling exchanged another intimate, smiling glance.

Rune said, “We decided to collect underutilized resources. I like the consulting I’ve been doing for the Miami Police Department. We’re setting up a consulting agency, only we’re going to expand and take it international.”

“Consulting for what?” Dragos asked.

His mind shifted as he mulled over that piece of news. A “consulting agency” run by Rune and Carling would have almost limitless possibilities. It could be useful to contract out some things to an agency that was not officially connected to the Wyr demesne. And it would be very useful to have access to Rune’s particular talents again, to . . . talk things over with him from time to time.

They might never be what they once were, but they could be something else, something new. And who the hell knew? Maybe it would even be something better. Something without him being the lord and Rune his servant. Something that was more simply and equitably friendship.

“Let’s talk about it later,” Rune told him. “We’re still working on definitions.”

He nodded and clapped Rune on the shoulder. The other man gave him a crooked smile.

Just then Graydon walked up, his hands in his pockets. Dragos watched from lowered eyelids as Pia threw her arms around the big man, who hugged her back.

Graydon told him, “It might not look like it at the moment, but we’re actually pretty organized. The Elves are taking us in groups of ten to wait at the crossover passage. We’re ready to go whenever they are.”