Pia Does Hollywood (Elder Races, #8.6)

Pia Does Hollywood (Elder Races, #8.6)

Thea Harrison



Chapter One


Dramatic music ebbed and swelled on the widescreen TV.

“Here it comes,” said Liam, poking Pia in the ribs with an insistent finger. “One of my favorite zombie movie quotes ever. Wait for it….”

For Halloween that year, Liam had set a goal to watch (and in some cases rewatch) all the zombie movies available for rental or purchase. Halloween had since come and gone, and now, in early November, he had fallen behind, but he was still determined to persevere until he had finished all of them.

The young actor came on the screen. Pia couldn’t remember the guy’s name.

Then Liam said along with the actor, “In those moments where you’re not quite sure if the undead are really dead, dead, don’t get all stingy with your bullets.”

When he finished, he cackled.

She ran her fingers through his honey blond hair, relishing his cheerful mood. “You have the whole movie memorized, don’t you?”

His dancing violet-blue gaze slid to hers. “Of course.”

“Why do you like that line more than any of the others?” she asked curiously. “It’s a pretty funny movie.”

Actually, in truth, she wasn’t a big fan of zombie movies, but she also wasn’t about to tell Liam that. If this was what he wanted to do, why then, she wanted to do it with him.

Their lives were busy and demanding, and took them away from Liam too much as it was. And childhood was so brief and fleeting at the best of times, but even more so for Liam, as he grew at such a fast rate. As a result, she threw herself into everything he wanted to do with complete enthusiasm. No reservations—she was all in, every time.

“I do like all the rest of it,” Liam said, his gaze cutting back to the television screen. “I just don’t want to quote too much while it’s playing, so you can enjoy the movie too.”

My good, sweet boy, she thought. Even when he’s acting like an adorably normal, obnoxious kid, he tries to be considerate.

They lay on the carpeted floor together, their bodies making a T. Pia stretched out parallel to the couch where Dragos lounged, one leg draped off the couch, his foot planted on the floor.

Dragos was working on his laptop and half watching the movie along with them. Pia rested one hand around his ankle, enjoying the simple, tactile contact. Liam lay facing the TV with his head propped on her abdomen as a pillow.

Outside the family room windows, the November weather had turned sharp and cold as a wet, slushy mixture of rain and snow fell, but inside, they were warm and cozy. A fire crackled in the fireplace, filling the place with soft golden light. Pia had a cup of hot cocoa, made with coconut milk, that sat cooling on a coaster on one of the end tables, but she was too comfortable and happy to move.

At least not yet. She would have to move soon enough.

As the Cuelebres’ part of the diplomatic deal they had made last month with the other Elder Races demesnes and the human government, later that evening she would be taking the company jet to fly to Los Angeles to visit with the Light Fae Queen, Tatiana, for a week.

The diplomatic deal stated that each of the seven U.S. demesne leaders was supposed to send a family member to another demesne to visit for a week to foster good will and peace among the demesnes’. The whole concept came from a Medieval practice of nobles sending their children to live in other nobles’ households as hostages.

Supposedly, the diplomatic pact would lessen the likelihood of inter-demesne violence in the modern day United States, but whatever human idiot in the president’s administration had thought up the scheme didn’t really know jack shit about the Elder Races, their long memories, and their proclivity for holding grudges over centuries.

A week’s visit wasn’t going to fix anything. In fact, depending on how well or badly that family representative acted, it could very well cause more resentments and bad feelings between the demesnes. Or even outright war.

Also, it couldn’t have come at a worse time. They had so much to do to get ready for the massive Masque that Dragos hosted in New York on the winter solstice that preparations always began a few months early, so Pia wasn’t going to be forgiving that anonymous fool in a hurry for proposing the idea.

Dragos, in fact, wanted to reject the pact outright. He wasn’t a fan of decisions made by consensus. At the best of times, he fought to rein in his autocratic instincts whenever the seven demesne leaders needed to convene over anything, and he had especially opposed this particular arrangement. But in the end, Pia told him, it would be easier to acquiesce on this one issue than to dig in their heels.

She could have waited to go later, after the Masque and sometime early next year. In fact, Tatiana had even emailed her the previous day, suggesting that she come at a later date.

But when Pia thought of the reason why that option wasn’t attractive, she lost her crankiness and began to smile.

All things considered, it was better for her to suck it up, get on the plane that night and get the damn visit over with, despite how much she dreaded spending the week with the Light Fae Queen and her nosy questions. So she emailed Tatiana back, thanked her for the suggestion, and said she would be touching down in L.A. the next morning as originally planned.

Dragos would be traveling to Los Angeles too, under separate cover. He didn’t volunteer how he was going to make the trip, and she didn’t ask. Probably he would relish the chance to stretch out his massive wings and fly cross-country in the darkness and solitude, but they had agreed—if she didn’t know what he was doing, she could say with perfect sincerity that she had traveled alone to the Light Fae demesne.