No, assassination wasn’t the most preferred course of action, at least not in this case. He could work to discredit her. Hire human spies to dig up dirt on her. That might have some merit, but it still wouldn’t dispel the antipathy against the Elder Races and the Wyr that she had whipped up.
He needed to think of something else to address that particular problem. And in case that didn’t work . . . what other contingency plans could he set into place?
Just then, Xavier del Torro, regent of the Nightkind demesne, and Tatiana, the Light Fae Queen, strolled up, and he set aside that train of thought with a mental note to pursue it later.
The evening passed in a grueling haze of forced pleasantries and hidden tensions.
And, occasionally, some not so hidden tensions.
The Light Fae Queen Tatiana apparently refused to talk to the Elven High Lord Ferion, not even in pleasantries, and she cut him dead when he approached. The gods only knew what that was about.
And at one point the head of the Demonkind assembly and the head of the witches demesne broke into a soft-voiced argument.
Jered and Isalynn’s dislike for each other was well known. As they smilingly engaged in a quiet spat, Pia poked Dragos in the ribs and said in his head, People are taking note of this. We’d better break them up.
He almost rolled his eyes, but as he glanced around, he saw that Pia was right. Others were watching the two, some covertly but others with quite open, and not particularly friendly, interest.
Moving together with Pia, he took hold of Isalynn’s arm and walked away with her while Pia distracted Jered.
Think of it. The dragon was practicing diplomacy.
He chuckled to himself, even as Isalynn hissed under her breath at him, “Let go of my arm, Dragos!”
“Not until you and Jered are far away from each other,” he said. He switched to telepathy and said bluntly, Pull your shit together, Isalynn, and smile at me like you mean it, because if you don’t think we’re on trial right now, you haven’t been paying attention. And you’re a lot more stupid than I thought.
Damn it. You’re insufferable at the best of times. I hate it when you’re right. She took two short, angry breaths, then turned to show her teeth at him.
His cold gaze ran over her bold, attractive features. He didn’t care that her dark gaze still snapped with anger and dislike. All her facial muscles had moved in a close approximation of a smile, and that was all anyone else would see.
He walked her over to a buffet table where they helped themselves to refreshments. As two congressmen approached, he left her to converse with them and circled back around to find Pia.
Pia did end up dancing twice, once with President Johnson, and a second time with Ferion, while both times Dragos held himself in a clench and managed not to bite anybody’s head off.
Not even Johnson’s relative age helped. Despite being a politician in his sixties, Johnson wasn’t an old, ugly fucker. He was still a handsome, fit son of a bitch, and as he whirled Pia around the dance floor, she threw back her head and laughed more than once.
And watching her waltz with Ferion felt like someone just out of eyesight was raking talons down a blackboard. His hands tightened into fists as he imagined grinding the handsome Elf into the polished floor.
“Dragos, is that a flame I see coming out of your nostrils?” Niniane asked.
As he had been obsessing over Pia’s dance, the little Queen had maneuvered to stand directly in front of him, her head tilted sideways as she squinted at him.
He sucked in a breath, swallowing down the fire, and growled, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“It was too. That was a tiny little flame.” She pointed an accusing finger at his nose. “What are you trying to do, create a general panic and destroy everything everybody is trying to achieve here?”
“Of course not,” he snapped. “I was holding myself in check, goddammit.”
She considered him for a moment then said telepathically, I actually believe you think you are. Tiago said you and Pia were in a mating phase.
We are. Goddammit, of course Tiago with his sensitive sense of smell would pick up on that. Dragos might just buy some KO Odorless Odor Eliminator and join the Right to Privacy movement himself.
“Well, just so you know,” Niniane said aloud, patting his arm, “I’m pretty sure I overheard Ferion and Pia setting up an assignation for tomorrow at noon, for somewhere called the Paradise Motel.”
That snapped his gaze away from the dancing couple. He glowered at Niniane. “What the fuck are you talking about? Pia would never set up an assignation with Ferion.”
“I know, right?” Niniane let out a peal of laughter. “Even smart men can be such dumbasses.” When he glared at her, she sobered somewhat and told him, “Stuff that mating nonsense down deep somewhere before you do something stupid. I mean, Dragos . . . Pia and Ferion? Come on.”
“You never used to talk to me that way when you lived in New York,” he said, his eyes narrowed.
“I never used to do a lot of things before I became Queen,” she said matter-of-factly. She gave him a small charming smile. “Besides, you like me, and I’m not telling you anything your brain isn’t already telling your hormones. You’ll deal with it.”
“Dictatorial little shit,” he muttered. “I don’t see you dancing with anybody.”
Her smile faded, and she looked sidelong at Tiago, who stood with his arms crossed, talking with Bayne.
“Yeah, well, I can call out irrational behavior, but I can’t necessarily stop it, can I?” she muttered in reply.
That snagged his full attention. Turning away from watching Pia on the dance floor, he studied Niniane as he switched to telepathy. Everything okay, pipsqueak?
She gave him a quick smile. Oh, everything’s fine. Don’t worry. Tiago and I just have a completely different relational dynamic than you and Pia. You and Pia are all out there—rings, public displays of affection, matrimony and a child, etc. But Tiago and I have to be more discreet about our relationship.
He frowned and rubbed his jaw. Is that a problem?
She shook her head. No, not as things stand currently. I’m pretty sure we’re a well-known secret in Dark Fae society, but as long as we don’t flaunt anything, they’re accepting it. They’re accepting him.
That’s good, he murmured.
It is, but there’s always that slight tension, you know? He has to refrain from making any public statement of claiming me, and in return, I try to act with a little more sensitivity about things, like dancing with other males in public. We’re balancing things just fine.
As he listened, his gaze fell on the vice president and her husband, dancing the waltz. He asked, What if the balance shifts?
Niniane’s mental voice remained firm and strong. We don’t let it shift. Right now, we’re both engaged, challenged and satisfied with our status quo. If we decide we want to do something else, or have a different definition of our lives and relationship, I’ll abdicate and we’ll go somewhere else.
Go somewhere else.
They would have to, since, much as the Dark Fae had accepted Tiago for what he was, they would never accept a marriage between their Queen and a Wyr ex-sentinel. Curiously, he asked, You could give up all that power, now that you have it?
Absolutely, if it was the right thing for either Tiago or me—for us both. She gave him a quick smile. And anyway, my point is, we’re in a different place than you and Pia are. So even though you’ve got all those mating hormones running around in your dragony head, keep your sights fixed on why you and Pia broke up Jered and Isalynn before they came to blows. There’s a lot at stake here.
Point taken. He crossed his arms. And, I might add—again—I haven’t killed anybody yet. I should get credit for that.
She patted him on the shoulder and switched to verbal speech. “Let’s just keep it that way while we’re all in D.C., ’kay?”
He shook his head grimly. “I’m doing my best,
pipsqueak.”
She snorted. “I’d say we’re all probably doing our best to at least appear to get along. Which is pretty pathetic when you think about it. If you really have to eat somebody, at least please wait until Tiago and I leave for home again.”
His mind switched gears. “You’re not going to attend the Masque in New York?”
Annually, on the winter solstice, the Elder Races celebrated the Masque of the Gods. Dragos always threw a lavish party in the city for the event, and when Niniane lived with them, she used to love attending.
She sighed. “No, I’m afraid not. The solstice is still two months away, and we can’t stay that long, not with the time slippage being what it is between Earth and Adriyel. We have things we need to attend to back at home.”
“Understood.” He crossed his arms. “Pia will be disappointed, but there isn’t much that can be done about that.”
She grinned up at him. “You’ll just have to come visit us in Adriyel someday.”
He raised an eyebrow. “That would be an interesting trip.”
“I can just see it now,” she declared, spreading out both hands. “Everybody would shit themselves to have the dragon come onto Dark Fae land. It would be glorious.”
He barked out a laugh as the orchestra finally stopped playing that infernal waltz, and Ferion escorted his mate back to him.
She looked beautiful, as always, but underneath the bright vivacity of her makeup, she also looked tired. He put an arm around her. “We’re done for the night.”
“Are you sure?” she asked. Her gaze darted over the dance floor. “Nobody else has left yet, I don’t think.”
“Someone has always got to be the first,” he replied. “Besides, it’s almost eleven. We’ve put in a respectable enough showing.”
“Okay.” She leaned against him in relief.
They began the long, tedious process of saying their goodnights, until finally they were able to climb into the back of the limo and relax with big sighs. Eva and Bayne settled in the seats opposite them.
Bayne was the closest to the mini liquor cabinet. Dragos told him, “Pour me a double scotch, would you?”
“Sure.” As Bayne handed the drink to him, he asked Pia, “You want anything?”
“Just water,” she said. Her words disappeared into a wide yawn. “I guess for a fairly disastrous event, it didn’t go too badly?”
Dragos snorted as he swallowed amber liquid and felt a pleasurable fire burn down his throat. “I guess you could say that.”
Opening the cold water bottle that Bayne handed to her, she slid off her shoes and curled against Dragos’s side. The soft, warm weight of her body resting against his felt soothing, and he let go of the tension that had tightened his muscles all evening.
She asked him telepathically, What are we going to do if we can’t smooth things over?
I’ve been thinking of contingency plans all evening, he admitted. Finishing his drink, he held it out to Bayne in a silent request for another. He thought of the conversation he’d just had with Niniane. We always said that if we needed to walk away from my position we would, but that wouldn’t solve the problem for any of the other Wyr.
No, she sighed. In fact, it might make things worse for everybody else. If we walked away, I would want to take all of them with us.
At that, an idea burgeoned in his head, and he went still as he thought it over.
It was sweeping and drastic, but it was also the first idea all evening that made his uneasiness subside.
If worst comes to worst, he promised, we will take all the Wyr with us. At least, all the Wyr who want to come.
Chapter Six
Pia lifted her head to stare at him. He looked alert and focused, as he always did when his mind was racing.
She didn’t know if she should be amused or maybe even a little frightened. She said uncertainly, You do realize it’s physically impossible to run away with the world’s entire population of Wyr. Don’t you? I mean, isn’t it? Even if we could corral them all together. Oh lordy, that would be like trying to herd thousands of cats all at once.
Chuckling, he kissed her. Don’t worry, worst is not going to come to worst.
But if it did, she insisted.
If it did, I think we should take a leaf from the Dark Fae’s example, he told her. They never did invest entirely in integration into human society¸ which is why they have such a thriving culture in Adriyel.
You mean leave New York? She felt her eyes widen. Completely?
He laced his fingers with hers. You know our house in the Other land, the one where I like to experiment with what technologies can be brought over from Earth?
She thought back. You told me about it . . . last May, I think, but you haven’t mentioned it since.
I’ve been too busy to tinker around with that project, he said. But that land is massive. It’s roughly the size of Greenland, only unlike Greenland, there’s lots of arable farmland, lots of clean water, and clear, fresh skies, and almost no people. That’s one of the reasons why I like it so much. More importantly, at least right now, the main access to the Other land is near our estate in upstate New York. He met her gaze. That land is mine, and it has limited entry points which makes it easily defensible, along with plenty of natural resources.
She sat up straight as she turned the thought over in her mind. Yes, there was tremendous possibility, but there were huge obstacles as well.
She said slowly, You’re talking about transplanting a lot of people who don’t know how to live without modern Earth technology. Many of them live in cities, and they buy their groceries along with everything else they need in stores.
Well, I didn’t say it would be easy, or that it should happen quickly, he replied. Or even if it should happen at all. But if worst came to worst, and we couldn’t find a way to continue living peacefully with humankind, we would have a place to go that would be safe and sustainable. I just need to hire a team of civil engineers and maybe some Dark Fae consultants to lay the groundwork, so that we’re not caught completely vulnerable and unprepared.
Oh yay, we get to build a whole new utopian society in our free time? She yawned again.
Potentially, he said, chuckling. A whole new potential utopian society. If worst came to worst.
I’ll be honest, she confessed. I’m too tired to really absorb an idea of this magnitude. I can’t imagine the kind of infrastructure you would need to lay down that would support thousands of people, let alone the training programs you would need to help them acclimate to such a different way of life.
That’s okay. He hooked an arm around her and pulled her back against his side. Because the worst isn’t going to come to worst. Things will smooth over.
She didn’t believe him. Perhaps things might smooth over, but Dragos never relied on blind optimism as a viable course of action. She had no doubt that very trait was one of the reasons why he was still alive, and so successful.
Her heavy eyelids refused to remain open any longer and drifted shut. You’re still going to hire that cadre of civil engineers and consultants, though, aren’t you?
Hell, yes.
They might have only been together for eighteen months, but in some ways, they already knew each other so well. She smiled, and the smooth rhythm of the limo’s engine lulled her to sleep.
When she woke up again, they had arrived back at the Wyr residence and he was carrying her up the magnificent staircase. He had slipped her high heeled shoes off, and they rested on her stomach.
“Shades of Rhett Butler,” she muttered, putting her hand on the shoes to make sure they didn’t slip off and fall to the floor.
“What’s that?” He bent his head toward her. “I’m sorry I woke you.”
“Mmph. Don’t be sorry.” She yawned again. “I have to get ready for bed anyway.”
He rested his cheek against the top of her head. “I was going to zip you out of your dress.”
Her tired body pulsed at the idea, but overpowe
ring as the mating instinct could be when it held her in its grip, instead of perking up, she felt rather ill. Scratching her thigh, all she could look forward to was shedding the Dior so she could spread some lotion over her itchy skin.
“Much as I would love to,” she mumbled, “I’m too exhausted tonight.”
“I wasn’t suggesting we do anything.” He used her feet to push open the bedroom door and carried her inside. “We both need a good night’s sleep to face tomorrow and the rest of this week.”
He set her gently on the end of the bed, and she braced her body upright with both hands planted on the mattress. “We have all those horrible people coming over here for dinner. Actually, I like several of them individually. It’s just that so many of them don’t like each other, and when they all get together, all these squabbles break out.” She rubbed her forehead as she thought of the Coltons. “Only some of them are just plain horrible.”
“Don’t think about that right now.” He shed his jacket and pulled off his tie with a sigh. “Think about crawling between nice, cool sheets and turning off the light.”
As she was thinking of the Coltons anyway, her mind went to what had happened earlier, and she started to snicker.
“What?” He glanced at her curiously as he stripped off his shirt.
She deepened her voice to mimic him. “I look forward to having you for dinner tomorrow.”
A wicked grin lit his hard face. “The look on their faces was my one pleasure of the evening.”
While he strolled into the bathroom to brush his teeth, she went to sit at the vanity to smooth cleansing cream over her face. As she wiped off the cream and makeup with tissues, her true complexion appeared. She looked dead-fish white, with blotchy areas where she had been rubbing her skin and dark circles under her eyes.
She made a face at herself in the mirror. When Dragos got tired, he just looked more rugged and dangerously sexy, with a piratical hint of dark beard shadowing his lean cheeks. When she was exhausted, she looked like something a cat might throw up.
He left the bathroom, totally nude, and climbed into bed, and it was her turn to use the bathroom. She forced herself upright and went to brush her teeth as well, and splash the last of the cream off her face. Her skin was still blotchy from where she had rubbed it with tissues. She frowned at her reflection and shimmied out of her dress.