Dragos Goes to Washington (A Story of the Elder Races)

“I need that list,” Johnson said. “Along with footage of the recordings to back it up.” His somber expression turned sour. “And I would appreciate a list of all the people who came here wearing that scent blocker. Up until now, I’ve ignored the Right to Privacy movement, as I thought it would blow over once we got things on a better footing, but not anymore.”


Johnson might have the luxury of ignoring it up until now, but Dragos, for one, wouldn’t be ignoring anything to do with the Right to Privacy movement. In fact, he planned on investigating it thoroughly and having extensive dossiers created on every prominent person involved.

“Of course,” Dragos told him. “You’ll get the full list of everyone I noted, so you can compare it with the shortlist compiled from the security footage. Your killer will be one of the humans on the shortlist. And naturally, we’ll open our home up to your people for a thorough investigation.”

“Thank you.” Johnson stepped forward and extended his hand. Dragos shook it. “And thank you for your calm and incisive thinking, and for your help as the authorities resolve this matter.”

“You’re welcome,” Dragos told him. When Johnson made as if to withdraw, he maintained his grip until the other man met his gaze. “It’s important to me that we remain allies, Ben, just as it is important to every other demesne leader here, which is why we’ve all come. But make no mistake—we’re not here because we’re apologetic. We’re here because we’re concerned about Elder Races violence, just as we’re also concerned about human abuses and violence—the hundreds of people killed in school and theater shootings, and the thousands killed in terrorist attacks. Violence against police, along with police bigotry and brutality, and the tragedy of what happened at Devil’s Gate. We’re willing to work together with you as partners to lessen these incidents, but none of us are willing to become scapegoats.”

The president’s expression tightened, but he gave Dragos a short nod. “Understood.”

As Dragos released the other man’s hand, for the first time in a long time, Pia spoke up telepathically. She said softly in his head, You’re sexy when you’re incisive and imperious.

The dragon in his head hadn’t receded and preened at the compliment from his mate. He gave her a sidelong smile as he told her, I didn’t know how the conversation was going to go or how difficult it might get. All I knew was that we needed to walk out of this room allies, but Johnson also needed to know—the Elder Races aren’t going to be his bitch, just because some humans decided to throw a hissy.

That’s my dragon politician I know and love so well, she crooned.

He laughed softly. They watched as Johnson squared his shoulders, strode for the double doors and threw them open.

A noisy crowd of guests had gathered outside in the hall. Tumultuous noise blasted into the room, as everyone tried to talk or shout at once. The president stepped forward and raised his voice to address them.

Pia rolled her eyes and said, I can’t even deal with all the drama llama.

As Dragos cocked an amused eyebrow at her, she collapsed in a dead faint.

*

Pia dreamed the dragon coiled around her in a white heat and raged at anybody else who tried to come close. All the protestors with their slogans and placards had to remain outside on the sidewalks.

You’re not helping any, she tried to tell him. We need to get the dinner on the table, or the soufflés will be ruined. We can serve Mr. Colton in the closet. There’s already a place setting on the desk.

But she was wrapped in thick cotton wool that made it impossible for her to move or say the words out loud.

Then the dragon picked her up and raced around with her, as they searched for her spinach soufflé so that she could eat it before it fell flat. I’m not hungry, she wanted to tell him, while in the kitchen, Gennita sniffled over the endive salad.

The Djinn Soren appeared in a swirl of Power, but he was a member of the Elder tribunal. He wasn’t one of the demesne leaders, and they didn’t have a place at the table for him.

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