Pia Does Hollywood (Elder Races, #8.6)

Too bad, the harpy said. Vindictiveness tinged her voice, like the sharp edge of her claws. You okay?

Yes. Morgan gave me the source of the contagion. It was magical in nature. I’ve destroyed it. As he talked, he launched into the air. I’m going back to Tatiana’s. Work with Shane until you’re sure the rest of the infected are burned. I might have destroyed the source, but they can still spread the contagion through their bites. Report back when you are all confident the job is done.

Understood.

There was no way Dragos was going to show up at Tatiana’s without making sure he had gotten rid of any lingering traces of the amulet. Flying due west for a half a mile or so, he dove into the ocean until he reached the sandy floor. Scooping up clawfuls of sand, he surfaced again and scrubbed at himself until he felt certain that he was entirely clean.

Only then did he head back to Bel Air, winging through the distance at a tired, leisurely pace.

This time, he landed a couple of blocks down the street and shapeshifted back into a man so that he could walk the rest of the way toward the large, sprawling mansion. The sun had not yet set, but it was low enough in the sky that it had gone down below the silhouette of the surrounding houses, throwing deep shadows across the lawns and the street.

As he walked, he admired the ultra-landscaped lawns in front of the other Bel Air properties. He said in Pia’s head, I’m so glad we don’t have a lot of flowers and other plant froufrou around our house. I’d never feel comfortable about shapeshifting, in case I accidentally knocked shit over with my tail, or trampled a rose garden.

Which is exactly why we don’t have all that. There was a smile in Pia’s voice as she replied. Between you, Liam, all of the sentinels and various other Wyr, if we had any kind of fancy garden, it would get trampled to dirt inside of a month. If you can chitchat lawn care, should I take it to mean that whatever situation was out there is taken care of?

Yes, you should. I’m walking up to Tatiana’s house right now. I’ll tell you about it later. He paused. He hadn’t had anything to do with either the interior design or landscaping of the house. Pia had done all of that, and she had thought everything through very thoroughly. He told her, You are a wise woman.

Pleasure warmed her voice. I do have my moments, don’t I? But then … I have other moments too. Dragos, I have to confess something. Tatiana nailed me down about your memory loss, and I couldn’t find a way to wiggle out of admitting the truth.

Oh, for fuck’s sake, he sighed. He felt a brief impulse to strangle the Light Fae Queen. How much does she know?

Well … pretty much an abbreviated version of everything. I never would have volunteered to tell her anything, but she had already guessed that the contagion hadn’t really messed with your thinking. She told me quite a story, both how she and Isabeau became estranged, and also something of your time at the Seelie Court.

Briefly, he wrestled with his pride, and pragmatism won. Did she give you any indication what I was doing at Isabeau’s Court?

Not really. She indulged in some speculation, but she didn’t know anything for sure. She said you and Isabeau sort of flirted, but sort of acted edgy around each other. She didn’t know if you were ever lovers, or even if you had parted on friendly terms.

As Pia talked, he grew close enough that Tatiana’s mansion came into view.

He told her, I don’t remember any other lover but you.

I don’t believe you.

I don’t. I know the facts of other lovers, but all the real, visceral memory, or any emotion has burned away. Those lovers happened to someone else, the man I was before I met you.

She had stepped out onto the lawn. Eva and a couple of vigilant Light Fae guards stood with her, but as the Light Fae guards were actually guarding her, he didn’t mind them so much. When they saw him, they didn’t draw their weapons. Another win for the day.

Pia saw him at the same time. He started walking faster, and she gathered her skirt up in one hand and broke into a run. She flew down the driveway, and the eager light on her face was simply everything.

She hit him in the chest with her full weight, flinging her arms around his neck. Laughing, he spread his feet wide to absorb the impact and snatched her close. She held him so tightly, she damn near strangled him, and he knew he all but crushed her ribs.

Burying his face into her neck, he growled, “I hated not being able to touch you.”

“I know. I felt the same.” Greedily, she stroked the back of his head, and his shoulders. “You’re okay? Quentin and Aryal—they’re okay?”