Lord's Fall

THIRTEEN

Pia had slipped into a half doze, slumped against the arm of the couch, when running footsteps in the hall roused her. She jerked upright to a sitting position. Someone shouted in the distance, and the psychos rose to their feet.

“Don’t tell me that’s more bad news,” she said, her voice blurred with sleep.

James strode to the window to look out. “It’s good news this time. Our peeps have arrived. They had to have pushed hard to get here so fast.”

She imagined they did push hard, as she could not personally recall ever hearing of Dragos himself summoning the Wyr to war. Granted, she was only in her twenties, but that was still a long enough period to cause people to take note.

She stood and moved to the window along with the others, and they all stared at the fantastic sight outside. A gryphon coasted in the air low over the river, wings outspread and steady as he headed for the torch-lit clearing. The golden feathers on his eagle’s neck and the tawny fur on his gigantic lion’s body were dark brown and deeply shadowed in the uncertain light. He carried three people on his broad, muscular back.

Behind him came another gryphon, similarly laden with passengers, his huge body seeming to float impossibly in the air. Then came a third. Pia smiled at the strangely beautiful, deadly sight.

Graydon, Bayne and Constantine were here, along with at least nine other Wyr.

A harpy flew in close after the third gryphon, her body and wings a study in grays darkening to black. She moved with powerful, confident assurance in the air, wheeling with precision to pass out of their line of sight and land in the clearing.

That was Aryal. Bleh, but okay. She had to admit it was far better to have that harpy with you than against you.

“Lookee there,” said Eva. “Them’s the big guns. They gonna smack that bad Elfie a good one.”

Andrea and Miguel laughed, and Pia smiled.

“That mean we can take off for Atlantic City?” Johnny asked. He still chewed a bite of his meal. “I want to practice counting cards again.”

Eva smacked Johnny on the back of his head although clearly there wasn’t any real strength behind the blow. In the next moment Pia became too preoccupied to pay attention to any of the psychos’ antics.

A large darkness sliced the night air. Like her experience with the Elven sculptures and the High Lord’s home before fire had damaged it, at first she couldn’t figure out what she was actually looking at. Then her perspective shifted and the scene became clear.

A pegasus soared over the river, his wingspread as wide as any of the gryphons. His wings and massive horse’s body were pure, unrelieved black. A glimmer of torchlight rippled over him, highlighting a powerful chest and long sleek legs. She caught a glimpse of his proud, arched neck and a graceful equine head.

“Whoa,” Eva whispered. “Now that’s a fine sight you don’t see every day.”

Unlike the gryphons, the pegasus carried just one passenger, a tall figure that appeared to be male. Pia wasn’t sure, but she thought the rider might be Quentin, her old boss and current friend—and quite possibly one of Dragos’s future sentinels. She still couldn’t get over the fact that Quentin was part Wyr. Her heart twisted. If he was also part Elven as she had always guessed, then the devastation here would hit him very hard.

Close on the pegasus’s heels came another gryphon.

A fourth one. Like the pegasus, this gryphon carried only one passenger.

Rune was here. His rider must be his mate, Carling Severan.

Did Dragos already know that Rune and Carling had come? Should she say something to warn him? Dragos had a huge telepathic range, but he had been silent for some time and she suspected that meant he was still busy with the beguiled Elves, and she didn’t want to disturb his concentration. God only knew what he might be involved in.

Pia turned abruptly from the window. “Come on,” she said. “Let’s go.”

She didn’t wait but strode for the door, and the others sprang to assemble in a protective formation around her as she stepped out of the apartment. The halls were abandoned, everyone occupied elsewhere. She picked up speed as she reached the exit, and so did everyone else.

The clearing was a hive of activity. She paused to take it all in, and naturally her psychos all paused along with her. More torches had been set at regular intervals, and the whole area was well lit for the new arrivals.

Several Elves worked at the sad task of carrying out the covered bodies that lined one end of the clearing. Pia wasn’t the only one affected by the sight. Andrea muttered a curse under her breath, and James shook his head, the corners of his mouth turned down.

Pia said, “I don’t need all of you to stay with me, if you feel like helping.”

“Go on, kids,” Eva said. “I’ll hang with her. Just stay close to hear any news. I expect we’ll be heading out soon.”

Johnny touched Pia’s shoulder, gave her a small, grave smile and everyone but Eva took off.

A few Elves stood in the middle of the open clearing and waved their arms as they looked skyward. Pia glanced up as well. The smoke or fog had cleared, and parachutes dotted the clear, starlit night sky. Landing in a limited space at night was going to be tricky. She had a feeling more than a few of the arrivals were going to end up in the river.

Almost directly across from where she had paused, Graydon and Bayne talked with Ferion. Both gryphons were heavily armed and dressed in fatigues. Bayne rested his hands on his hips while Graydon rubbed the back of his neck as he looked around. All three of the males wore grim expressions.

Aryal stood nearby, arms crossed as she watched Wyr glide into the clearing. “Hurry up,” she told them as they landed. As usual the harpy’s dark hair was windswept and tangled, the angle of her high cheekbones accentuated by the flickering golden light. “Grab your chute and get out of the way. Move fast and keep moving.”

Hugh and Johnny leaped to help the new arrivals bundle up their parachutes as they landed.

Aryal shot a scowling glance across the clearing. The look in the harpy’s stormy gaze was sharp as a blade. Her glare was so intense, Pia found herself looking in the same direction to discover Quentin standing beside another male. Both men were tall, well formed and handsome, but that was the extent of their similarity. They were almost perfect in their contrast to each other.

Pia rubbed dry, irritated eyes and studied the male standing by Quentin. He was drop-dead gorgeous, with a lean, graceful body, a proud, strong face, mahogany skin, gleaming black hair and a brilliant dark gaze that took in everything around him. He was probably the pegasus that had flown in after the gryphons.

Then she turned her attention to Quentin. Like the gryphons, he was dressed in olive green fatigues and he was armed. It was a huge difference from the casual suits and designer jeans he wore at his bar Elfie’s. He used to have longer, dark blond hair that he kept bound back in a tight queue, but he had cut it for the Games. Now it was military short, which emphasized his spare, graceful features and piercing blue eyes. He looked almost like a stranger to Pia, even though she had known him ever since she had started work at Elfie’s.

Quentin returned Aryal’s stare, his own gaze glittering with such naked hostility that Pia had to blink. Whoa. Not that she blamed him in the slightest. Aryal could make a porcupine appear warm and cuddly, and the harpy was much more likely to make enemies than friends. As Pia watched, Quentin turned away to look around at the chaos in the clearing. His gaze was shadowed and his expression turned tight and bitter. Her heart squeezed. Whether or not he was part Elven himself was beside the point. She knew he’d had connections in the Elven demesne. He had lost friends here.

She wanted to walk over and hug him but resisted the impulse. He held himself in such a way that suggested physical overtures might not be welcome at the moment. Instead she turned her attention to the reason why she had hurried outside in the first place, and she looked for Rune and his Vampyre mate, Carling.

They stood together, well out of the way of those who were parachuting in. Rune was the most handsome of the four gryphons, with a tall, lean swordsman’s body and even, tanned features. His mate Carling was also one of the oldest known Vampyres and one of the most beautiful women Pia had ever seen. The last time Pia had seen Carling, her dark hair had been chopped short. It had grown longer since last summer, and now it brushed the nape of her long, graceful neck.

Rune and Carling talked with a tall Elven woman. It took Pia a few moments to place her. Then she recognized Sidhiel, the Elder tribunal Councillor for the Elves. Sidhiel had been one of Carling’s wardens when the Elder tribunal had placed her under quarantine. Neither Carling nor Rune appeared to hold any grudges over that. As she watched, the Elven Councillor nodded to the other two and strode quickly toward the main building, her features set in a mask of grief.

Pia kept her focus on Rune and Carling as she walked around the edge of the clearing, Eva keeping pace at her side. Despite the activity and noise level, something attracted Rune’s attention and he turned to watch her approach.

Even though she hadn’t known him for long before he left, Rune seemed different from how she remembered him in New York. He looked a touch sharper, his expression darker. Or perhaps that was just his reaction to his surroundings. She gave him a wry smile as she reached him. “Heya, slick.”

Rune’s smile chased the darkness from his face. He pulled her into a brief, hard hug. “How are you doing?”

“I’m good, thanks.” She hugged him back. “We got pretty warm for a little while, but it’s cooled down some.”

“I can see.” Rune glanced around, his lion’s gaze flaring with reflected torchlight.

Pia tapped him on the arm, and his attention came back to her. I don’t know who got in touch with you, but it’s good to see you, she told him.

He said, Gray called me.

She glanced at Graydon affectionately. God love him, Graydon really was true blue, right down to his bones. She turned back to Rune and said aloud, “I just wanted to tell you Dragos might snort and growl when he sees you, but don’t pay any attention. He’ll be glad to see you, no matter what he might say.”

At least she was pretty sure that was true. Or maybe she was just hopeful. One thing about being in so far over your head that you couldn’t see shore—you just had to strike out in some direction and hope for the best, because the surest way to drown was to tread water and stay where you were.

“I am not above saying I told you so,” Carling murmured. “Neither one of you communicated with each other very well last summer, and you both need to get over it and move on.”

Rune looked at his mate sourly. Carling raised her eyebrows and widened her eyes in response. Their nonverbal interaction was so like a married couple’s that Pia had to smile. Whatever had added edges to Rune’s expression, it didn’t seem to have anything to do with his relationship with Carling.

Just then Pia’s skin prickled, and the tiny hairs at the nape of her neck raised. She turned around as Dragos stepped out of the building.

Immediately his attention focused on them. His machete-edged features went still, and those gold, dangerous eyes of his reflected the lights from the nearby torches. He strode toward them, a natural juggernaut with a force of will that could move heaven and earth if he so desired. Both Wyr and Elves scrambled to get out of his path.

Nobody did expressionless quite like Dragos did, the muscles in his massive body coiled with intent. Even though she felt an intimacy with him that stemmed from some deep, instinctive recognition, in some ways he was the most unpredictable person she had ever met.

Then of course after whatever happened next, they had that whole war thing with Gaeleval to consider. Every day with Dragos turned into an adventure. She took a deep breath and braced herself for a bumpy ride.

Just after the runner had brought the news that the Wyr had arrived, Graydon said in Dragos’s head, We’re here, all the sentinels except Grym, who got the short straw. We brought a hundred of our strongest Wyr just as you ordered. Some are regular army, and some are from the Games, plus there’s two more.

Dragos frowned. That meant Grym had stayed home to keep the peace in New York, which was standard protocol for the sentinels when something extraordinary called them away, but the last bit puzzled him. Plus two?

When I made the announcement to halt the Games, Rune asked me what happened, so I told him, Graydon replied. At least I told him what I knew. He and Carling came to help.

Reaction pulsed through Dragos, every bit as complex as when he had first caught that faint whiff of Rune in the arena. He looked around the chaos in the Elven cell block. Those who had died had been discovered, and a frantic effort was being made to revive them with CPR. Unfortunately, it wouldn’t work. Their spirits had already left their bodies, although he doubted anyone would appreciate it if he pointed that out.

He said to Calondir, “There is nothing else I can do here.”

Distracted, Calondir nodded. “I will be up momentarily.” The High Lord’s gaze lifted to his. “We must not delay any longer.”

“Agreed.” He said to Graydon, I’m on my way.

An echo of his earlier thoughts ghosted through his head again as he walked outside, Miguel following close on his heels.

You should have said something earlier.

I should have listened better to you.

He stepped into the death-scented night, caught sight of Pia and Eva standing with Rune and Carling, and clenched his jaw as he strode toward them. Everyone else swirled away from him, like sparks shooting from the flames of the forest fire, each one a bright but ephemeral light. Even the Elves, who were so long-lived in comparison to many others, seemed ephemeral to him, and so easily extinguished.

He stopped and crossed his arms when he reached the quartet. His frowning gaze traveled from Pia, who stood side by side with her bodyguard, to Rune and at last to Carling, where his gaze lingered. The witch returned his regard with equanimity, her expression calm.

Whatever she and Rune had done when they had gotten together last summer, they had caused reality to shift so that the other gryphons felt it a continent away in New York. And they had done it not once, but three times—four if Dragos counted that last, strange ripple that had occurred in the confrontation in the meadow at the Oracle’s. The events were disturbing and mysterious, and Dragos did not like disturbing mysteries.

“I am surprised that you are still alive,” he said to her.

Carling smiled. “No one is more surprised about that than I am.”

The dragon took jealous note of the affectionate glance she gave Rune and that he returned.

Then Dragos relaxed and shook his head, and finally let it all go.

“I’m not sorry,” he said to Rune. “We were overextended, I didn’t know she was salvageable, and you were not expendable.” He paused then added slowly, “But I should have listened when you asked me to.”

Rune sucked a tooth, considering what Dragos said. Then he replied, “I think I was in denial about mating for a long time, and I should have said something sooner. But I’m not sorry either. You were pigheaded and autocratic.”

There was that word again. Dragos sighed. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Carling put a casual hand over her mouth. Pia didn’t even bother to hide her smile. “Do you know how much the blasted Games are costing me?” Dragos demanded. “I never would have bothered to hold them to replace just one sentinel.”

Rune grinned. “I’ve seen Cuelebre Enterprises’ bank accounts. You can afford it.”

Dragos glowered at his former First. He asked telepathically, Are you doing well—is she well?

The gryphon sobered. We’re both very well, thank you. It’s good to see you and Pia doing so well too.

Dragos switched back to verbal conversation. “And what are you two doing? You’ve got a hell of a lot of talent gathering in Miami. It’s making people nervous.”

Rune and Carling exchanged another intimate, smiling glance.

Rune said, “We decided to collect underutilized resources. I like the consulting I’ve been doing for the Miami Police Department. We’re setting up a consulting agency, only we’re going to expand and take it international.”

“Consulting for what?” Dragos asked.

His mind shifted as he mulled over that piece of news. A “consulting agency” run by Rune and Carling would have almost limitless possibilities. It could be useful to contract out some things to an agency that was not officially connected to the Wyr demesne. And it would be very useful to have access to Rune’s particular talents again, to . . . talk things over with him from time to time.

They might never be what they once were, but they could be something else, something new. And who the hell knew? Maybe it would even be something better. Something without him being the lord and Rune his servant. Something that was more simply and equitably friendship.

“Let’s talk about it later,” Rune told him. “We’re still working on definitions.”

He nodded and clapped Rune on the shoulder. The other man gave him a crooked smile.

Just then Graydon walked up, his hands in his pockets. Dragos watched from lowered eyelids as Pia threw her arms around the big man, who hugged her back.

Graydon told him, “It might not look like it at the moment, but we’re actually pretty organized. The Elves are taking us in groups of ten to wait at the crossover passage. We’re ready to go whenever they are.”

“Calondir said he would be out momentarily.” Speaking of which, Dragos turned to Pia. “I need to talk to you.”

Rune gave him a nod, then he, Carling and Graydon backed away. Eva made as if to join them. “Don’t go far,” Pia said to her.

Eva smiled. “I won’t. Just gonna hang a little out of the way.”

Dragos waited until the bodyguard captain had stepped several feet away. Then he considered Pia’s upturned face. It was impossible for him to feel more for her than he already did. She had been through so much last year, and the thought of anything else happening to her made him more than a little crazy. He laid the tips of his fingers along the gorgeous, slender curve of her neck.

He said, I want to see you in that harem outfit again, bells and all.

Her eyes lit up, and a grin played around the corners of her mouth. I wouldn’t mind seeing you in that sheikh outfit again either. The half-bared chest is a good look on you.

She looked so mischievous he had to smile, even as he clenched with the desire to kiss her senseless. He flashed to an image of bending her back over his arm as he ravished her mouth, and he could tell by her heavy-lidded expression that she had caught the drift of his thoughts.

He stroked along the delicate curve of her collarbone, relishing the satin softness of her skin. His callused fingers were so rough in comparison he made sure his touch was light and careful so that he did not mark her.

Then his smile faded, and as he grew serious, so did she. He said, I want you to stay here when we cross over.

She pursed her luscious lips as she studied his face thoughtfully. I’m not going to do that, Dragos.

His autocratic side fought to take control. He battered it into submission. I really want you to change your mind, he told her. The gods only know what we’re going to find on the other side of that crossover passage, but whether it happens directly on the other side or some distance away, we’re going to see more bloodshed. It’s going to get ugly and dangerous, and while you have many strengths that we have only just begun to explore, you are not a creature of war.

She nodded slowly. That’s true, I’m not. But even though I do know things are going to get ugly, I’m still not going to stay behind.

He pushed air out of his bared teeth as frustration clawed at him. He growled, “This decision does not make sense to me. You are going to hate it.”

“That’s also true,” she said quietly. “I will. But you would not stay behind while I crossed over to an Other land, would you?”

He glared at her. “The two scenarios do not compare.”

She rubbed the back of her neck. “In a way they don’t, but in a way they do too.” She gave him a level look and said in an even softer tone of voice that nevertheless held an edge of inflexible steel. “As Eva said, you’re Powerful as shit and older than dirt, but I will not stay behind when there may be any risk to you. That’s not going to happen, Dragos. I’m pretty easygoing most of the time, and there aren’t very many lines I feel the need to draw, but this is one of them. I know you’re going to be in the thick of things, and I will be on hand if you need healing. I may also get involved if any of the sentinels are critically injured, or if there is anything I can do for Beluviel. She was kind, and that matters a lot to me. Other than that, I have no grand agenda nor do I have an ax to grind. I will be sensible, and I will keep my guards around me, and I am going. End of discussion.”

“End of discussion?” he said, staring at her. He was fairly certain he had never heard anyone say such a thing to him before.

One corner of her mouth lifted. “Yup.”

He bent over her until they were nose to nose. “Do not think for one minute that I have forgotten how you ordered me out of the room earlier,” he whispered.

“Actually I had kind of forgotten about that.” Her gaze widened. “I did, didn’t I?”

“Yes, you did.” He slid his own hand to the back of her neck, gripping her gently. “Do you know what I thought?”

She shook her head, staring at him mesmerized. “Huh-uh.”

He growled, “I thought it was sexy as hell.”

Her lovely, triangular features lit up. Surreptitiously she slipped her fingers into the edge of his black fatigues at his waist, and she tugged at the material gently. “I don’t suppose we could put off this whole war thing until we got ten or twelve hours in the sack, could we? We could send a note to Gaeleval and ask him to take a day off.”

Invisible fire danced along his skin. He bent to brush her lips with his. “If we had any chance of that succeeding, I would be all for it.”

“It’s been much too long,” she whimpered.

He swallowed the tiny sound she made as the fire reached his brain. Before Pia, he had gone centuries between taking lovers, and he had never felt the lack. The women meant nothing. He had never remembered their names, and now he couldn’t remember their faces.

He mouthed against her pouting lips, “We still haven’t added manacles to any of the bedrooms. That’s going to be the first thing we take care of when we get back home.”

“Yeah, okay,” she muttered, as her body trembled. He slipped an arm around her waist, holding her against him. Her head fell back and she looked at him with glazed, unfocused eyes. “Dragos?”

“Yes,” he murmured. They were surrounded by people, but there was nobody else, anywhere, nobody at all.

“We’re going to get married, right?”

He would have smiled at how dazed she looked, except he knew exactly how she felt. What they generated together was blinding. She was not only the most precious person in the universe to him, but she was also the most powerful. “I can’t believe you framed that as a question.”

She tried to scowl at him. “I was using the question as a conversation starter.”

He licked at her lower lip. “And?”

She didn’t sound like she could breathe right. “And I wanted to know if we were going to go on a honeymoon too. We haven’t even gone on a date yet.”

He lifted his head. Actually, he hadn’t thought much beyond the big diamond ring and a lavish public display where the whole world watched as he claimed her. “Of course we are going on a honeymoon,” he said. “What kind do you want?”

She heaved a big sigh. “No bodyguards,” she said dreamily. “No urgent business calls, and no sentinels. No housecleaners or staff of any kind—and certainly that means no Stanford, even though he’ll claim to be heartbroken, of course. If you think he wouldn’t dream of intruding on our honeymoon, think again. He would insist that I need a dresser, and I’m not talking about a piece of furniture.”

She surprised him into snorting. He was loving the sound of a honeymoon more and more as she talked. “I’ll swear there’ll be no one but us,” he promised. “Along with the peanut, of course, because he won’t be born by then. We’ll have our honeymoon as soon as I get the sentinels settled into place.”

She looked at him from between her eyelashes. “That means a quick, quiet wedding, you know,” she remarked casually. “There won’t be time to set up anything else.”

He frowned. “Wait a minute.”

“I love the idea,” she gushed. She threw her arms around his waist, hugging him tightly. “A quiet wedding and a quick getaway, and we’ll be all alone. Do you realize we haven’t even really been alone since we were kidnapped by Goblins, and we escaped and ran away? The only private time we get is when we close our bedroom door—and even then somebody may call or get in touch with you telepathically over some emergency or other.”

He had to admit, she had a point. He scowled. “I was planning on a big wedding.”

She gave him a coaxing smile. “I don’t know why. You don’t even like crowds, and you hate having your picture taken.”

Apparently she was full of good points tonight. “We’ll talk about this later. I can only give in so much, you know.”

“I know,” she said soothingly. “It’s so hard being you.”

“Well, it is,” Dragos admitted. He grinned as she laughed. “You pretty much got everything you wanted in this conversation, didn’t you?”

Her laughter died and she gave him a completely serious look. “I feel that is how every conversation should go.”

He wrapped her up in his arms, crushing her to him. In the periphery of his vision, he could tell many others in the clearing stared at them both, but they counted as nothing to him. “I will find you armor, and you will stay surrounded in the middle of the army.”

“Whatever you say,” she said meekly. “As long as you agree with me.” She laid her head on his shoulder.

What a sneaky tyrant she was turning into. Actually, she wasn’t all that sneaky. He was utterly enchanted with her bossiness.

Yes, for the first time in his existence, he was truly vulnerable. He cradled her close, savoring the weight and feel of her in his arms. He only lifted his head again when a stir passed through everyone in the area.

He turned to look and Pia did too, as Calondir exited his damaged home, along with a dozen Elven warriors. The High Lord was dressed in plate armor and armed with two crossed swords at his back.

He smiled at the sight. Who would have thought it? For once he and Calondir were going to fight on the same side.

While he had come to treasure the profound differences in nature between him and Pia, Dragos also would not be who and what he was if his blood didn’t quicken at the possibility of an upcoming battle.

Payback and death weren’t the dragon’s only companions. He was on intimate terms with chaos and strife too.