Pia Does Hollywood (Elder Races, #8.6)(11)

“And you as well.” Bailey nodded a greeting to Pia’s guards, tucked her hands behind her back and inclined her head toward the waiting motorcade. “If you’d like to come this way, please.”

“Certainly.” Pia accompanied her to the appropriate Porsche, climbed inside with Eva, and with that, her week’s visit officially began.





Chapter Four





Once the jet had taken off safely, Dragos had turned his attention to making his own journey.

As fast as he might be able to fly, he couldn’t beat the jet to California. If he chose to stay in dragon form for the trip, he wouldn’t arrive until the evening of the next day.

There wasn’t a thing wrong with that decision, and he almost chose to do it. The long, solitary flight did sound appealing. Having to relate to so many different creatures on a daily basis was wearing, and if he didn’t get regular time to fly alone, he grew short-tempered and snappish. Well, more snappish than usual.

On a whim, more than anything else, he decided on a different mode of travel and called the Djinn Soren to give him a quick trip. Traveling Djinn style meant that he could get to California hours before Pia. He could still enjoy a long flight and plenty of solitude, and also be ready and waiting when her plane landed.

Sometimes it was very handy to have a Djinn owe you a favor. A few weeks previously, Soren had asked Dragos if he had any information about an upcoming commercial venture between the Nightkind and the witches’ demesne. It just so happened that Dragos had developed an extensive file on the subject, and he had given a copy of the file to Soren in return for a favor. All he had to do was request the trip.

Dragos’s face and form were too distinctive, so instead of booking a stay at a luxury hotel in the city, he chose a modest, remote motel bordering the nearby Angeles National Forest. After Soren had dropped Dragos and his luggage off, he checked in quickly, threw his travel bag on the bed and left again to shapeshift and take to the night sky.

Dragos didn’t care for L.A.—although he had laid claim to New York long ago for tactical, political and business reasons, he wasn’t fond of any city and only tolerated them at best—but he did appreciate southern California’s balmy climate. The salty breeze off the ocean was the perfect combination of warm and refreshing.

By the light of a half moon, the dragon stretched out his wings and coasted on the thermals. He wore his cloaking spell to prevent detection, and after a few hours, he felt relaxed and tension free. He flew offshore some distance and dove into the water, fishing until he had eaten his fill. Then he gained altitude again and winged north to watch the ocean waves break against the cliffs of Big Sur, relishing the solitude and the clear, brilliant starlit night.

He had circled back around in a leisurely fashion, arriving at the airstrip in plenty of time to watch the arrival of the Light Fae motorcade.

Tatiana had a few formidable magic users in her court. One of them was the captain of her guard, Shane Mac Cartheigh, so Dragos made sure to be circling very high in the air over the site and cloaking his presence tightly, as the troops poured out of the vehicles.

The dragon’s sharp gaze could pick up small prey from two miles away. He had no trouble picking out the individual soldiers. He saw Tatiana’s daughter Bailey direct the troops with a wide sweep of her arm. They jogged to every end of the airstrip and studied the surrounding countryside, weapons ready.

He approved of their security measures, but why was Bailey directing Light Fae troops instead of Shane? Last he heard, she didn’t live in California but resided somewhere rather remote. Puerto Rico, or maybe Jamaica. She and Sebastian Hale ran a security company. Hale was Wyr and an excellent fighter, and Dragos made sure to track excellent Wyr fighters who weren’t his own.

No wait, Hale had mated and retired. Bailey ran the security company alone now. So why was she here?

After thoroughly searching the perimeter, the troops down below converged again around Bailey. A few moments later, the Cuelebre jet came into view. Watching approvingly as the jet touched down in a textbook perfect landing, Dragos chatted with Pia until the jet’s airstairs were deployed. Then Quentin and Aryal appeared, began to descend and froze halfway down the stairs.

They sensed something too. What did they sense?

He said in Aryal’s head, What is it?

The harpy didn’t evidence any surprise at his presence. She said tersely, Quentin and I think it seems like a lot of troops for a simple pickup.

It is. He told her about watching them spread out and search the area around the airstrip. A group of that size was able to establish a secure perimeter very quickly.

From the distance, he saw the harpy shrug. That’s probably it. Private airstrips don’t have the kind of security that airports do. They were being thorough and efficient before we arrived.

Probably, he agreed. We do tend to be paranoid.

Just because you’re paranoid, blah blah blah, etc., Aryal told him sourly.

I wondered where Shane was, and why Bailey is here, he said. She usually lives in Jamaica. Or Puerto Rico. Whichever one it is.

You’re so nitpicky, Aryal told him. Now I’m wondering that too. Maybe he’s on vacation. Does Tatiana’s captain take vacations?

The dragon snorted. I have no damn idea.

Aryal said to him, Pia says to go ahead. What say you?

We are being nitpicky, he told her. So go ahead, but keep a watchful eye out. Report back to me if you notice anything unusual.