Pia Does Hollywood (Elder Races, #8.6)(39)

She whispered, “I remember those days too, when I was pregnant.”

“Tatiana,” he said in a soft, gentle voice, so as not to disturb his sleeping wife, “if you try to kick me out tonight, I’ll make it my personal mission to tear Bel Air down around your ears.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” Tatiana said quietly. “You have helped us tremendously today, and I am very grateful. We still need to adhere to the terms of the diplomatic pact, but I think we can get away with you staying one night. And frankly, what you choose to do with the rest of your week is none of my business. I’m certainly not going to be spying on you, should you and Pia meet up somewhere while she is out and about this week.”

“Thank you,” he said, relaxing.

“For tonight, I’ll have one of my guards show you where her suite is.”

The Queen stood, and he gathered Pia’s warm, soft weight into his arms and stood also. Then he paused. One other thing, he said telepathically.

Tatiana paused as well, and looked at him inquiringly.

Don’t poke at my wife about her Wyr form, he said. He gave her one of his hardest warning looks. I mean it, Tatiana. Leave her alone about it. She told me you had questioned her in D.C. Her Wyr form is shy by nature, and in the early days of our mating, it was a real strain for her to contemplate being with me. She gave up a lot to be my mate. She’s had to adapt to the limelight, and I won’t have her bullied or pressured over it.

The Light Fae Queen pursed her lips in a disappointed moue. Oh, very well. She paused. By the way, I’ve heard a preliminary report from my doctors who are studying your blood samples. They’re quite electrified at what they’re finding. They think they’ve isolated the contagion and might be able to develop something from it, which will be hugely useful if there are any more outbreaks. Also, apparently your blood is intensely magical in nature, but then nobody is surprised by that. And there’s something else—something truly unique, and they don’t know quite what to make of it.

Pia had already tried to heal him before his blood had been drawn. Was it something from her, or was it something inherent to him? Had she healed him after all?

Maybe the protocol had suppressed her nature but had not entirely negated it. Her blood might have worked, but very slowly. Or perhaps he had thrown off the effects of the contagion, himself.

They would never know for sure.

For now, he injected scorn into his mental voice. Tell me, have any of your doctors ever studied dragon’s blood before?

Her brows twitched together. You know they have not.

He snorted. Then of course it’s truly unique.

Cocking her head, she smiled wryly. You do have a point.

He reached out for Grym. I hear they’ve isolated the contagion.

They sure have, and in record time, Grym said. There’s a celebratory air right now in this lab.

Time to destroy all the blood samples. Make sure they’re incinerated, so that not a single cell is left.

You got it. Oh, the weeping and gnashing of teeth that will shortly commence.

Dragos smiled to himself. They hadn’t preserved every one of their secrets. But they had managed to preserve the most important one.

Then Tatiana stepped to the door, opened it, and he carried Pia through to the hallway, and up to the suite.

* * *

Pia walked along her favorite trail, enjoying the fall colors.

Wait a minute. She had already done this before. Remembering jolted her so that she realized she was dreaming.

Tilting her head, she walked slowly and listened for a small, stealthy rustle. Sure enough, she heard it, behind her and a little to the left.

She didn’t turn around or do anything to spook her small shadow. Instead, pretending to ignore it, she walked along slowly, thinking.

Soon, she came to an area where the trail opened up and the land flattened to form a high, grassy meadow atop a bluff that overlooked the land’s long decline. Eventually that decline would lead to their house, which was half hidden by the surrounding trees. Beyond the house lay the flat blue shimmer of the nearby lake.

Strolling through the small meadow, she picked a spot and settled cross-legged on the ground, looking over the countryside. The scene was beautiful, with rolling hills covered with the brilliant gold, yellow and vermillion of the fall foliage. She loved everything about upstate New York in the autumn.

A small rustle might be approaching. Happiness filled her. Cocking her head, she listened to the slight, cautious sounds behind her and fought not to laugh. What would her shadow decide to do now?

Something sharp poked her in the lower back, over her left kidney. She swept a hand behind her to move the stick, or weed, or whatever it was, but her hand encountered nothing but air.

Hm.

The sharp something poked her again.

Moving gently, so as to not frighten the wary shadow away, she twisted to look over her shoulder.

Underneath the slender spire of a horn, fierce gold eyes looked back at her.

Oh, holy gods. She froze. She didn’t even dare to breathe.

The small creature standing just behind her shoulder was … was …

It was small like a newborn foal, all gangly legs and overlarge head, with a narrow, racy body. And it was dark bronze all over, almost exactly the same shade that Dragos was in his dragon form, with the colors darkening to black at the legs, nose and tail.

And it had that slender horn at the middle of its forehead. The horn would lengthen and sharpen as it grew to adulthood, but for now, it was short and well suited for a baby’s developing neck muscles.