Pia Does Hollywood (Elder Races, #8.6)(23)

Belatedly he caught up with everything that she had said.

Stinkpot?

She had sworn more in the last three minutes than she had in the last six months, but he had gone well past the point of any desire to laugh. Crossing his arms, he glared back at her but complied. He watched as she strode over to the other Wyr. After a silent exchange with them, Quentin reached into his pocket to pull out something and hand it to her.

She swiveled and jogged back, but instead of stopping in front of him, she continued past. “Come on,” she said over her shoulder as she headed back around the corner toward the decontamination chamber.

He threw a wary glance at the Light Fae by the front door. They were watching him closely. As he spun to follow Pia, he noted security cameras mounted high along the corners of the walls. He would bet all the jewelry in his pocket that he was being watched right now.

Rounding the corner of the building, he came upon Pia, who had opened up a pocketknife. Her face tight with determination, she gestured to him. “Come on. Pull the bandage back.”

“Damn it, Pia,” he growled. “This isn’t private either. We’re being watched.”

She blinked. “What do you mean?”

He jerked his head up, toward the direction of the security camera, and she rolled her eyes. She looked beyond fed up. In fact, she looked like she had joined Basket Case and driven straight to Crazy Town, and he knew if she wasn’t stopped, she really would shout the f*cking secret to the whole f*cking world.

He needed to derail that meltdown, if he could. Glancing around, he eyed the decontamination chamber.

“Take a breath,” he told her. “The camera won’t be able to see anything we do behind a few layers of plastic. Come on.”

It was her turn to follow him as he led the way through the thick plastic flap. Ignoring the sharp, acrid smell inside, he turned to face her.

Still wearing an expression that told him she was close to the edge of panic, she rotated her wrist at him. “Hurry up. Pull back the bandage.”

“Lower your voice,” he whispered. “The plastic will stop the camera from seeing what we’re doing, and it might muffle our voices somewhat, but there are still a lot of people around with very sharp hearing.”

“I don’t care,” she muttered. She gripped the knife like she meant to stab herself with it.

He roared, “I care! I mean it, Pia. Get a f*cking grip.”

Freezing, she stared at him. For a moment, her mouth wobbled precariously, then she firmed up. The strain was evident in her voice as she said, “I apologize. It’s just—Dragos, when I weigh the secret against the thought of possibly losing you, there’s no contest.”

At that, he wanted even more desperately to put his arms around her. Instead, he whispered fiercely, “One way or another, it’s going to be okay. But we’ve got to think our way out of this. We’re not going to get there if either one of us is in a panic. Understood?”

Jerkily, she nodded. “Yeah.”

“Okay. Get braced. This isn’t pretty.” He pulled back the bandage and showed the bite wound with the slowly expanding dark streaks to her.

He watched as the sight hit her like a blow. She swallowed and blinked rapidly. “Does it hurt?”

“No,” he said tersely. “It should, but it doesn’t.”

Giving him another terror-filled glance, she took the knife and held her hand over his forearm.

Uneasy at exposing the open wound so close to her, he muttered, “Careful, don’t touch me.”

“I’m not touching you!” she flared. Then, giving him an apologetic look, she said more temperately, “Just hold still.”

He did, clenching his fist as she drew the pocketknife across the end of one forefinger quickly. Bright blood beaded in the cut. She squeezed her finger, forcing the blood to flow more freely until a few precious drops fell onto the open wound.

He had said they had to think their way out of this, but he couldn’t help but feel they were fast running out of options. If this didn’t work … well, they would cross that bridge when they came to it.

If it did, the gods only knew how they were going to explain their odd behavior or his unexpected healing in such a way to keep the f*cking secret.





Chapter Seven





Together, they stared at the bite mark while Dragos waited for the signature wave of her Power to wash through him. Her healing Power was an amazing, unstoppable sensation, unlike anything he had ever experienced. When Pia healed him, he felt like he was bathed in light.

Nothing happened.

The moment dragged on, weighing down both their shoulders. Pia rubbed her forehead, and her mouth shook again. “It didn’t work.”

“Well, now we know,” he said. He slapped the bandage back into place over the wound. “So now we’ve got to think about alternatives. Let’s go talk to Tatiana. I want to know how this outbreak happened, why the f*ck they didn’t warn us, and what measures they’re taking to contain it. Maybe they’re close to finding some kind of effective antidote.”

Straightening, she nodded. “While you were showering, Tatiana’s captain arrived and went inside.”

“Let’s go see what they have to say for themselves.”

They pushed their way out of the plastic-draped chamber and walked to the front lawn again, where Quentin, Aryal and Eva, along with the Light Fae, were waiting.