The Wyr demesne and Dragos himself were facing too many challenges at once to deal with any one of them effectively. Dragos had broken several treaties with the Elves in his pursuit of Pia last May, and those treaties had not been repaired. Border strife continued with the Elven demesne, along with an ongoing trade embargo that had put several New York businesses under and was seriously hurting several more. Dragos’s multinational corporation, Cuelebre Enterprises, had bailed out several floundering companies and provided low-interest, long-term business loans to help out others, but they were all stopgap measures that didn’t really resolve the core issue.
In the meantime, Dragos’s corporation, along with the rest of the world, had taken its own hits in an ongoing global recession. Diversification, along with aggressive streamlining and retrenching, had kept the corporation leaner but running strong, but that had taken harder work and more top-heavy manpower at a time when Dragos could ill afford to expend the energy.
Then there was the problem of being critically short staffed. Dragos had lost two of his seven sentinels in quick succession last summer. The first one to go was his warlord sentinel, Tiago Black Eagle, who had mated with the new Dark Fae Queen, Niniane Lorelle. Then Dragos lost his First sentinel, Rune Ainissesthai, who had mated with the Vampyre sorceress Carling Severan. Dragos and Rune had parted badly, and Dragos still refused to talk about it. He had moved two people into sentinel positions as a temporary stopgap, but now he had to go through the process of setting new sentinels into place.
To top it all off, there was the amorphous Freaky Deaky Something that hung on the horizon, the strange voice that Dragos had heard through an impromptu prophesy given by the Oracle of Louisville, Grace Andreas. The Oracle and her family had since relocated to Miami, where Pia and Dragos had traveled to meet with her in a follow-up consultation last autumn. Unfortunately, Grace couldn’t add much to the original vision since, as she said, specific prophecies did not repeat themselves.
Grace did offer them a piece of advice, while they sat at her kitchen table and two young children played outside with, of all things, a very large, indulgent and good-looking Djinn. “The person or Power behind the voice from the vision is either already in your lives, or it will be,” Grace told Pia and Dragos. “Don’t let that knowledge weaken you. There’s no point in trying to avoid it, because the actions you take might actually cause you to come into contact with it sooner than you would otherwise. Act from your strengths, and live your lives in a state of readiness. You were lucky. You were given a warning. Most people don’t get that.”
The memory of that conversation played through Pia’s mind as she exited the bathroom stall and washed her hands. She also thought of all the other issues, along with the added stressor of having just left her mate. Eva’s antagonism shouldn’t even be on the list of challenges she had to face.
The psychos were a well-trained unit. They would have a strongly defined internal order she didn’t yet have a handle on, and that would be reinforced by the five canines’ pack instinct. Each one would be highly opinionated and would make up his or her own mind about Pia, but none of them would go against their alpha, and no doubt several of them would take their cue from how Eva and Pia’s relationship developed. Right now Pia was just an annoying, disliked outsider they had to bodyguard. She had to turn that around and establish a different working relationship with them now before Eva’s lack of respect became too entrenched.
The other two women had taken advantage of using the facilities too, first Andrea, then Eva, while one remained on guard at the door.
Pia dried her hands deliberately, then turned. Andrea guarded the door. Pia met the other woman’s gaze. She said, “Get out.”
Andrea’s blonde eyebrows rose. She glanced at the closed bathroom stall, which opened. Eva stalked out, her whole magnificent body flowing like gleaming black oil.
Pia said to Andrea, “Wrong response.”
Eva jerked her chin. “Go on.”
Andrea opened the door and backed out without a word.
Pia went to the door and flipped the lock. The snick sounded over-loud in the silent restroom. It wouldn’t keep anybody out who was determined to get in, of course, but it was a strongly symbolic barrier—and the sound would tell any sharp, listening Wyr ears to stay out of what happened next.
She turned, leaned back against the door and met Eva’s sardonic gaze. Pia said, “I thought briefly about just kicking your ass, but we would have to take that outside and I don’t feel like getting wet and muddy. Besides, you’re not worth it.”
Amusement sliced across Eva’s bold features, and her black eyes sparkled. “You’re sadly deluded if you think you could take me, princess.”