“Fine,” he bit out. “Let’s go.”
Just before he turned away, he saw Eva glance into the open doorway of the bedroom, and her eyes grew very wide. Realization flashed. Fuck. He spun back, even though he knew he was already too late.
Eva asked in a hushed voice, “Uh, princess? Are you aware that you’re illuminated?”
? ? ?
It was an idiotic mistake.
Pia had lifted her head off the pillows to watch Dragos stride away, her body thrumming with frustrated hunger again. She felt like they hadn’t made love in months, not days. He should always dress in black, because he sure did give Satan a run for his money on being wicked hot. He moved so fast and light on his feet, it would be disturbing to see in such a large, muscular man if it wasn’t so damned sexy.
He was already preoccupied with what lay ahead of him, and she was distracted with lust and just plain stupid. She realized it as soon as Eva looked in the bedroom and her black gaze went wide. Even though Pia threw the dampening spell back on that very instant, it was too little too late.
Remember that slow-moving train wreck? The one you were just bitching about the other day? And who was driving that train again, dumb ass?
You, that’s who.
She launched off the bed and moved faster than she ever remembered moving in her life. As she leaped toward Eva, she called out sharply, “I’ll take care of it, Dragos.”
She reached the doorway, registering every shift in Eva’s expression, the simple astonishment shifting to shock at her urgent speed. In the next instant, Pia had her hand fisted in the front of Eva’s shirt. Eva grabbed her wrist reflexively, glanced at Dragos and froze.
Pia looked at Dragos too, at his calm, expressionless face and the death in his gold eyes. I am mated to the biggest psycho of them all, she thought. She said strongly, “I said I’ll take care of this.”
His attention shifted from Eva to her. There was no way to tell what he was thinking. She shifted her body so that she came between Dragos and Eva, and she pointed toward the hallway door and Miguel, who also stood frozen. “Go.”
Dragos tilted his head at her in wordless acknowledgment, turned and left, taking Miguel with him.
She took a deep breath and only then realized that she was shaking. So much to do, so much to do. Build a relationship, stop Armageddon, save a Wyr here and there. It really did never rain but it poured.
James, Andrea and Johnny had been in the other rooms, but they weren’t any longer. Something that had been said, or perhaps some instinct for danger had roused them. They stood tensely in the doorways of the other bedrooms, Andrea and Johnny in one, James in the other. Quickly she calculated the angles of the doorways in relation to each other. None of them could have seen into her bedroom, and Miguel had been standing by the hall door, so he hadn’t seen anything either.
Pia told the others, “Go back to bed. Now.”
Slowly, they backed into their separate rooms, even though she could tell all their fight-or-flight instincts had kicked into high gear.
Only when they shut their doors did she turn her attention to Eva, who hadn’t moved or spoken. It was the first time she had ever seen Captain Psycho truly subdued.
Pia loosened her hold on Eva’s shirt and pointed silently into her own bedroom. As the other woman stepped inside, she followed and closed the door behind her.
She asked quietly, “You haven’t by any chance been talking telepathically with any of the others in the last few minutes, have you?”
“No,” Eva said, very low. She turned around, her sober black gaze fixing on Pia’s face.
Even though she was pretty sure that Eva got the full implication of what had happened, she still said, “You realize you saw something you weren’t supposed to see. Your life is on the line here.”
Eva said, “I got that.”
The tension in Pia’s body wouldn’t let her stand still, and she started to pace. “This isn’t your fault,” she said, still keeping her voice very soft. “This is all my fault. I was careless and preoccupied. This should never have happened, and I’m so sorry, Eva.”
“This is about your Wyr form, isn’t it?” Eva whispered. “Why you don’t talk about it, or identify what you are.”
She moved to the window and looked out, rapping out a hectic, uneven rhythm on the pane with her fingers. The shadowed river was beautiful, but one end of the pile of covered bodies was visible, and she couldn’t keep her gaze from drifting to them. So much unnecessary death, so much pain.