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

She thought back then shook her head. “No, I’m afraid not.”


“You rolled your eyes and said, ‘I can’t even deal with the drama llama.’” He chuckled then rubbed his eyes. “It wasn’t funny at the time, though, dammit.”

“I’m so sorry.” She leaned against him, and he shifted to put his back against the headboard while keeping one arm around her. She curled against his side, one leg draped across his hips. “Do they have any idea who did it? Who killed Colton, I mean?”

After a moment, he told her, “After studying the footage from the cameras, security narrowed the suspects down to three people—Aaron Davis, Janice Wilmington and the speaker’s security detail. And a few hours ago, they found the murder weapon. It was exactly what I thought, a gauntlet with curved blades welded to the ends of the fingers and thumbs. The murderer had it custom made.”

She shuddered at the thought. “Where was it?”

“The killer had pried up a board and stuffed it under the floor in one of the bathrooms.”

“I know we own this house, but I’m so glad this didn’t happen in our actual home,” she told him. “I would feel so violated if it had.”

His hold tightened. “We would never have had any of those assholes in our home.”

“True.” She had to think a moment to place the names with titles and faces. Aaron Davis was the vice president’s chief of staff, Janice Wilmington was the majority leader. She couldn’t remember what the speaker of the House’s security detail looked like. Curiously, she asked, “Who do you think did it?”

“I’m positive it was one of the two men, Davis or the security guy. Colton was a tall man. Wilmington isn’t tall enough to have inflicted the wounds on him, at least not at the angle the cuts at his throat were made. As for why, I really don’t give a damn. I just want them all out of my house and gone for good.”

He pressed his mouth to her forehead, and they rested for several minutes.

“Bed rest for two days.” She sighed. “I didn’t bring any books with me. I thought I was going to be too busy to read this week.”

“I’ll go out and get you something to read tomorrow,” he whispered. He began rubbing her back in long, soothing strokes. In no time, she grew sleepy and relaxed.

“Pregnant,” she murmured. “I feel so gleeful about that, I could bust. We’re pregnant, and we have no idea what it is.”

“I could try to scan again, but I don’t want to force it,” he said quietly.

“No, I don’t either. He or she will come out from behind that cloak when they’re ready.” She smiled sleepily. “Not knowing is kind of fun, kind of like a Masque or Christmas present.”

“What an interesting future we’re going to have,” Dragos said. “I’d like to keep the news to ourselves for a little while, if you don’t mind. Let’s just enjoy it for a few weeks, then we can tell Liam and our close circle. Is that all right with you?”

“That sounds perfect.”

This time she fell asleep peacefully, and she had no more bad dreams.


Late the next morning, when she woke up, Dragos was still in bed with her, although he had showered and dressed, she saw, when she rolled over. He was busy reading some kind of typed report, which he set aside as she gave him a sleepy smile.

“What are you doing here?” she asked in a sleep-blurred voice as she stretched. All the muscle aches had eased, allowing her freedom of motion. “Why aren’t you at—what was supposed to happen this morning? I can’t remember it now.”

He raised his eyebrows at her. “You collapsed last night, remember? I get to stay at home today to make sure you’re recovering.”

“Hmm.” She hummed contentedly as she lifted her face for his kiss.

“Are you hungry?”

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