Pia Does Hollywood (Elder Races, #8.6)(7)

Uneasy at being so vulnerable and dependent, after the first two doses, both Pia and Dragos had insisted they learn to give her the shot in case Dr. Medina wasn’t available to administer it. Pia was due to have her next shot in two evenings.

Dragos touched her cheek gently with the callused tips of his fingers, lingering over the kiss. Then he pulled back and told her, “Have a good flight. I’ll see you soon. I’ll get in touch with you in the morning, after you’ve landed.”

She nodded and gave him a smile. “Sounds good. Talk to you in the morning.”

Eva put the car in gear while Dragos slammed the door.

As they drove away, Pia glanced back. Dragos never moved to go back inside. Instead, he stood watching her leave.

The next time they talked, it would be in secret in southern California. She watched him too, until his tall, dark figure and their glowing, inviting home faded into the darkness.

Only then did she turn to face the direction in which she was going. Belatedly, she realized she hadn’t put on her seat belt, and with a muttered curse, she yanked the belt around her body and jammed it into the buckle.

“Good job being all reasonable with his lordship, dumbass,” she muttered to herself. “If you’d only let him dig in his heels, you wouldn’t be making this trip right now.”

And to hell with the rest of the world.

“Anybody would think you really weren’t going to see each other for a week,” Eva said with a chuckle.

All her good mood from that evening vanished. Scowling, she crossed her arms and sank down in her seat. “You never know. The Light Fae demesne doesn’t have an edict forbidding him to cross their borders like the Elven demesne did when we went to South Carolina, but he’s still not supposed to be along for this trip. Even though he’ll be in L.A. too and I’ll be able to talk to him, I might not actually get a chance to see him for the whole week.”

Eva shook her head. “I don’t believe it. That man’s too sneaky, and I mean that as a total compliment. If he wants to see you, he’ll find a way to make it happen, whether he’s supposed to or not. Only question is how he does it. I can’t wait to see how he pulls it off.”

Pia’s scowl lifted and she began to smile. “You do have a point.”





Chapter Three





Pia’s security team had already boarded the plane.

She heard the familiar arguing voices as she and Eva stepped into the cabin. Her astonished gaze took in Quentin and Aryal’s presence as they sprawled on one of the couches.

The two sentinels looked lethal and relaxed, even as they sniped at each other. Quentin’s sexy, scarred face wore a subtle amused expression, while Aryal scowled as she scratched a long-fingered hand through her tangled black hair.

Pia laughed out loud. “He never told me he was going to assign you two to the trip.”

Quentin stood and stepped forward to press a kiss to her cheek. “He didn’t want to say anything, in case you thought it might be a bad idea.”

Aryal remained in her slouched position, one leg thrown over the arm of the couch? although she raised a few fingers in nonchalant greeting when Pia looked at her.

“No offense,” Pia said, “but I do think it’s a bad idea. While I love you two—yes, I’ve grown to love even you, Aryal—neither of you are known for your skills in diplomacy.”

“That’s not our job, cupcake,” Aryal told her as she kicked one booted foot. “Diplomacy is your job. Our job is to make sure nobody kills you.”

Within the space of five words, Aryal had already managed to get her irritated. No matter how many times Pia told her not to call her cupcake, the harpy persisted.

She threw up her hands. “Stop it. Nobody else but Graydon uses that nickname. Why do you keep calling me that?!”

Aryal’s face went blank for a moment. Then, with a slightly baffled expression, she said, “It’s—it’s just so fitting. With your frothy blond hair, cute painted toenails and bright, pretty outfits, you are a cupcake.”

Pia dropped her hands, lowered her chin and glowered at the harpy for a long moment. She said, “You’re not even trying to be offensive right now, are you?”

Mutely, Aryal looked sidelong at Quentin as she shook her head. Eva had moved to the back of the cabin. As the other woman caught Pia’s attention, Eva rolled her eyes.

Eva and Aryal couldn’t stand each other. Pia had once said to Dragos that they were worse than oil and water. Eva was oil, and Aryal was a naked flame.

This wasn’t just a bad idea. It was terrible.

Behind Pia, the door to the cockpit opened, and Alex, one of the two mated Wyr-ravens that worked as co-pilots, stepped into the cabin. “We’re ready to take off when you are,” he said, smiling at Pia. “The sooner the better, of course. The temperature outside is dropping fast.”

Oh, for God’s sake.

Pia turned her back to everyone else and looked at Alex. “You answer to me on this trip, correct?”

To his credit, Alex didn’t look at the others either. “Yes, ma’am. You’re the ranking Wyr official on board.”

“Then we don’t take off until I tell you to,” Pia told him. She swiveled back to look at the other three. At the back of the cabin, Eva contemplated the ceiling with her generous lips pursed. Aryal had turned to inspecting her fingers, while Quentin’s handsome expression grew more amused.