Pia Does Hollywood (Elder Races, #8.6)

He roared, “I care! I mean it, Pia. Get a fucking grip.”


Freezing, she stared at him. For a moment, her mouth wobbled precariously, then she firmed up. The strain was evident in her voice as she said, “I apologize. It’s just—Dragos, when I weigh the secret against the thought of possibly losing you, there’s no contest.”

At that, he wanted even more desperately to put his arms around her. Instead, he whispered fiercely, “One way or another, it’s going to be okay. But we’ve got to think our way out of this. We’re not going to get there if either one of us is in a panic. Understood?”

Jerkily, she nodded. “Yeah.”

“Okay. Get braced. This isn’t pretty.” He pulled back the bandage and showed the bite wound with the slowly expanding dark streaks to her.

He watched as the sight hit her like a blow. She swallowed and blinked rapidly. “Does it hurt?”

“No,” he said tersely. “It should, but it doesn’t.”

Giving him another terror-filled glance, she took the knife and held her hand over his forearm.

Uneasy at exposing the open wound so close to her, he muttered, “Careful, don’t touch me.”

“I’m not touching you!” she flared. Then, giving him an apologetic look, she said more temperately, “Just hold still.”

He did, clenching his fist as she drew the pocketknife across the end of one forefinger quickly. Bright blood beaded in the cut. She squeezed her finger, forcing the blood to flow more freely until a few precious drops fell onto the open wound.

He had said they had to think their way out of this, but he couldn’t help but feel they were fast running out of options. If this didn’t work … well, they would cross that bridge when they came to it.

If it did, the gods only knew how they were going to explain their odd behavior or his unexpected healing in such a way to keep the fucking secret.





Chapter Seven





Together, they stared at the bite mark while Dragos waited for the signature wave of her Power to wash through him. Her healing Power was an amazing, unstoppable sensation, unlike anything he had ever experienced. When Pia healed him, he felt like he was bathed in light.

Nothing happened.

The moment dragged on, weighing down both their shoulders. Pia rubbed her forehead, and her mouth shook again. “It didn’t work.”

“Well, now we know,” he said. He slapped the bandage back into place over the wound. “So now we’ve got to think about alternatives. Let’s go talk to Tatiana. I want to know how this outbreak happened, why the fuck they didn’t warn us, and what measures they’re taking to contain it. Maybe they’re close to finding some kind of effective antidote.”

Straightening, she nodded. “While you were showering, Tatiana’s captain arrived and went inside.”

“Let’s go see what they have to say for themselves.”

They pushed their way out of the plastic-draped chamber and walked to the front lawn again, where Quentin, Aryal and Eva, along with the Light Fae, were waiting.

The other Wyr joined them, questions in their eyes. Aryal’s gaze dropped to the bandage Dragos still wore, and she swore, while Eva’s face tightened and Quentin blew out a breath.

Together, the group of Wyr strode toward the front entrance of the house, where several guards stood. As they drew near, the guards swung around to stand in formation, and all of them had their guns trained on Dragos.

Bailey was with them. She stepped forward, her expression regretful. “I’m so sorry, Dragos,” she said. “But we can’t let you in the house.”

“That’s preposterous.” Pia gestured angrily. “Look at him—he’s in perfect control of himself.”

“Yes, he is, for now,” Bailey agreed. The Light Fae woman gave them an apologetic glance. “But that could change quickly, and if it does, we won’t be able to reason with him. And even without his ability to shapeshift, your husband is still very powerful. He could do a lot of damage, and infect a lot of people, before we could stop him.” She turned her attention to Quentin, Aryal and Eva. “None of us want to hurt any of you, but we may not have any choice. You may not have a choice either, and you all need to be prepared to face that fact.”

Pia whitened, while Aryal rubbed her face and swore.

“She’s right,” Dragos said, interrupting whatever Pia might have said next. He asked Bailey, “Where are we going to meet?”

“My mother is willing to let you into the back garden,” Bailey told them. “Shane will be there, and she’ll be surrounded by guards, but it’s a compromise of sorts, and it would allow us to discuss possible next steps.”

“Fine. Let’s go,” Dragos said. As they strode around the house to the back, he asked, “What about the neighbors? These houses and yards are large, but that’s no real protection, either for them, or for any sensitive discussions we might have.”

“That’s not an issue,” Bailey told them. “Bel Air has already been evacuated.”