Pia Saves the Day (Elder Races #6.6)(6)

Scowling, Eva flexed her hands. “I’m not leaving you.”

The other woman was still covered in dust from the site. Pia glanced at her and shook her head. “You’re not going into Liam’s nursery like that. God only knows what he can sense of what’s happened, and he already sounds frightened enough as it is. I don’t want you upsetting him any further.”

Looking abashed, Eva ducked her head. “Sorry,” she muttered. “I didn’t think. I’ll get cleaned up and be right back.”

Without further delay, Pia went into Liam’s nursery. Hugh was cradling and walking him. As soon as Liam saw her, he wailed louder and tried to throw his body forward, reaching for her.

A sharp sliver of feeling wormed its way into her frozen heart. Gathering Liam close, she walked over to the rocking chair and pulled his favorite blanket around him.

Looking up into Hugh’s worried expression, she said, “See that we’re not disturbed until the sentinels arrive.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he said, his voice soft and careful. “I’ll keep watch outside the door.”

“Thank you.”

As he eased the door shut behind him, she turned her attention to Liam. The toddler had clenched both fists into the front of her T-shirt. As soon as her eyes met his, his small face crumpled. The sliver of feeling in her heart grew larger until it was a hot, agonized pain, and she fought back tears of her own.

“Shh, my sweetest darling,” she whispered, stroking Liam’s silken head.

He put his cheek against hers in a gesture at once so mature and loving, it broke the tension in her spine, and she wrapped around him tightly. He clung to her, and neither of them moved until the door opened some time later, and Graydon strode in.

Graydon was the biggest of the sentinels, a burly, mild mannered giant almost as large as Dragos in his human form.

Just like Dragos, as always when Graydon entered the room, the available space seemed to shrink, due as much to the potent force of his personality as to his size. He wore the sentinel’s usual outfit of black T-shirt, jeans and boots—clothing that was sturdy enough for a rough, often violent lifestyle and easy to discard when damaged—along with a Glock in a holster clipped to the waist of his jeans.

As soon as he saw her and Liam in the rocking chair, he strode toward them, went down on one knee and would have taken them into his arms if she hadn’t stopped him with one hand pressed against his chest.

She couldn’t bear to be hugged at the moment, or she might break down. And she didn’t have time to break down. She had too much to do.

One look into Graydon’s darkened, sober gaze, and she could tell that he had already heard at least some version of what had happened.

She patted him on the chest in silent apology for rebuffing his hug, and he took her hand. He told her telepathically. Everyone else is downstairs, except for Alex, who drew the short straw, and Aryal, who went down to the construction site to try to find out how the accident occurred.

Unsurprised, she nodded. Whenever a situation was serious enough to call for the full strength of the sentinels, they always left one of them behind in New York to handle whatever might arise while the rest were gone.

The lawyers are here too?

His jaw tightened as he nodded. Them too. And I wasn’t sure what you meant by treasure, but I brought rough, uncut jewels and gold.

That’s fine, she said.

His rugged, weather-beaten face looked tight with worry. What do you need right now?

Steeling her spine, she told him, I need for the sentinels to find out where Dragos has gone. Just track him down. It’s important you keep your presence cloaked. Don’t approach him, and don’t try to talk to him. He took a blow to the head. He was bleeding profusely, and—and—Graydon, he’s not himself right now.

His hand tightened on hers. What do you mean? The stories we heard have been pretty confused. What really happened out there?

Cupping the back of Liam’s head, she met his gaze. I mean the only reason he didn’t kill me earlier was because Eva knocked me out of the way.

His eyes dilated in a quick reaction to her words. That’s impossible. He would die before he ever hurt you.

Of course he would, she snapped. Her mouth worked as she fought to keep her face from crumpling as Liam’s had earlier. If he remembered me, he would.

Graydon’s indrawn breath was sharp and audible. Okay, we’ll find him. I swear it.

Do it fast, she said tightly. There’s only so much I can heal. When Quentin and Aryal were so badly injured in the spring, I could help them, but only to a certain extent. Too much time had passed, and they both ended up scarred.

Also, much of her Wyr nature still remained a mystery to her. She had no idea if the healing properties in her blood would help Dragos’s mental state, or if she could only heal physical wounds.

That was assuming she could coax the dragon into letting her close enough to heal him. If Dragos had suffered some kind of traumatic amnesia, there was a possibility he might never recover his memories.

And he had snapped at her.

Snapped.

Closing her eyes, she tightened her jaw against the memory.

Wyr mated for life, but nobody fully understood why. It was a complicated process involving emotions, sexual attraction, timing and opportunity.

What if Dragos couldn’t remember that he was Lord of the Wyr? That she was his mate? What if he never remembered? Could he live as though he had never mated before?