Peanut Goes to School (Elder Races #6.7)(6)

Since July, Dragos had spent a virtual fortune on a variety of books on history and politics, both human and Elder Races, and the subject of each cluster of books focused on the gaps he had discovered in his memory.

Along with reading obsessively late into the night, he spent long hours talking to each of the sentinels, while major corporate decisions had been put on hold. His businesses, along with the Wyr demesne itself, were treading water but not making any forward strides.

Thankfully, they had the most active time of the political season behind them for the year. Dragos’s assistants, especially Kris, were dedicated to the point of obsession, and with the sentinels’ help, Dragos could afford to take time to concentrate on his own healing.

She asked, “How is it going?”

“Nothing new.” He growled, “I’m learning a lot.”

The frustration was evident in his voice. During the first few weeks of his recovery, he’d had several strong episodes of spontaneous memory retrieval. Now he recalled almost everything from the last few years, but since then, he had discovered that he’d lost entire centuries, and it had been at least ten days since he’d had his last breakthrough.

And, as he was quick to point out, so much of what had really happened in history had never made it into any book. Most of Dragos’s life, in fact, including any number of private wars, feuds, pacts, and betrayals.

Closing her eyes, she rubbed his wide, muscled back. “I’m so sorry.”

And she was. She was terribly sorry about his frustration, and she understood how the whole experience contributed to him looking at the world through even more distrustful eyes. He believed that they were more vulnerable now, and what he didn’t know could possibly hurt them one day.

But in a way, she couldn’t relate. She didn’t care about what had happened that far in the past. All that really mattered to her was that he was hers again, that he remembered her, that he had regained his physical health and he loved and needed her as much as he ever had.

The Wyr demesne was strong. They had all kinds of help and protection, and they could rebuild anything else.

She asked, “Is there anything I can do to help?”

He buried his nose in her hair, took a deep breath and sighed. “You help just by being here.”

“Well, that bit is easy,” she told him with a smile. “Because I wouldn’t be anywhere else.” After a pause, she added more gently, “I do get concerned sometimes at how hard you’re working. It’s only been a month since you got hurt, so you might very well have more memories return. But I hope you can come to terms with the fact that you might not, either.”

“I’ll cross that bridge when I come to it,” he said. The tone of his voice had turned dark and edged. “But I’m not there yet, and in the meantime, I won’t let go of a single moment of my life without a fight.”

That ferocity of his was one of the very things that had drawn her to him in the first place. He wouldn’t let go of anything of his without a fight. And he was the meanest, nastiest fighter she knew.

Drawing comfort from that now, she lifted her head, and he responded readily, cupping her chin and covering her mouth with his, until everything else fell away in the brightness of the fire they created together.

Chapter Three

* * *

School was every bit as interesting as Liam thought it would be.

Well, actually the schooling bit wasn’t very interesting, but Mom and Dad had already warned him that he would know a lot more than other first graders. Be patient, they had said. Your school experience is going to be different from everyone else’s.

Everything else was awesome.

His teacher’s name was Mrs. Teaberry, and she was pretty old. He couldn’t tell what exactly Mrs. Teaberry was—he wasn’t very good yet at identifying other peoples’ natures—but she might be part Fae. Her hair was gray, and she had interesting lines on her face that moved around as her expression changed.

There were twenty kids in his class, and he watched them with fascination. Some were boisterous and excited, and others seemed timid and shy. One of them cried quietly for a few minutes, hiding it behind one hand. He felt bad for her, but as he sat across the classroom from her, there was nothing he could do to help.

There was no sign of the Dark Fae girl, so she must be in another class. He was sorry about that, as he liked how her eyes sparkled.

The teacher talked a lot, and he got bored and stopped paying attention. His gaze wandered over to a collection of books she had on a bookcase in one corner, behind her desk. Those weren’t kids’ books. Those were adult books, with titles that contained words like learning methodology, and first-grade literacy.

He had never read anything like those books before, and they piqued his interest.

When morning recess came, he slipped out of line, doubled back into the classroom and went to explore the teacher’s books. He had flipped through almost all of them when Mrs. Teaberry walked back into the empty classroom.

The wrinkles on her face shifted into an expression of surprise. “Liam,” she said. “What on earth are you doing? You’re supposed to be outside with everybody else.”

He closed the last book and slid it back on the shelf. “I wanted to read your books first.”

She laughed. “You mean you’re done looking at them. They’re a bit too old for you.”