Lord's Fall (25 page)

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.

•   •   •

J
ust 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.