Pia Does Hollywood

by Thea Harrison

  “I know, I’m sorry. I a-p-p-pologize, but I’ve had a sleepless night. I was looking for my mother everywhere, and nobody’s around, and nobody showed up for work either, even when I tried to call in and take a sick day, and …”

  His short amount of patience snapped.

  Staring into her brimming gaze, he said in a quiet, compelling voice, “Stop this meltdown immediately. You’re calming down now. You’re growing quite calm, do you understand? And lucid. You are definitely growing more lucid.”

  “But you don’t understand,” she sobbed. “There’s nobody around.”

  Hm. Sometimes, when the subject was overwrought like this, it took his beguilement a little while to take effect. Plus, there was always the possibility that she was delusional. It was very difficult to beguile a delusional person until he actually understood what they were delusional about.

  “What do you mean, there’s nobody around?” he asked. Beguilement also didn’t work very well when he let his own impatience get in the way and upset people, so he tried to curb the sharpness of his tone. “Of course there are people around. There are cars and people in the street right now. You’re growing calm and lucid now, remember? In fact, you’re feeling so calm, you’re quite capable of using your keys to go get that necklace for me to examine.”

  Abruptly, she did calm down. Her sobbing stopped as if a switch had been thrown, and her twisting hands loosened.

  “There aren’t any people in my neighborhood,” she whispered. “My mom lives on the next block. She’s gone too. We always have breakfast together, but she wasn’t there when I let myself in. When I called the police and told them my mother was missing, they said they would drive by her house to check into it, and get back to me. I haven’t heard from them either.”

  Okay. He had tried his hardest not to engage, but that snagged him. He repeated, “There are no people at all in your neighborhood.”

  Mutely she shook her head.

  Perhaps this was the delusion he needed to understand to make his beguilement effective. Crossing his arms, he frowned. “How do you know this?”

  “Because I live there!” the woman cried. “I know!”

  Abruptly, he decided he’d had more than enough of talking to her. He snapped, “What’s your address?”

  Jumping at the sharp command in his voice, she blurted out an address.

  He held out one hand. “Give me the keys.”

  The woman hesitated, then started shaking her head. “I-I don’t think I c-can do tha—”

  Oh for the love of all the gods. Injecting all his strength into his voice, he told her, “Shut up and give me the goddamn keys.”

  Her hand jerked out, offering the set to him. Taking the ring, he rifled through them until he found the right key to unlock the display case. Scooping up the firebird necklace, a matching bracelet and dangling earrings, he gave them a brief, very thorough look.

  The workmanship was top-notch. He was looking forward to examining the pieces in greater depth, but for now, he shoved the jewelry into the front pocket of his jeans. He told the woman, “Tell your boss to bill me.”

  She stood frozen and mute, staring at him with huge eyes.

  Because he had, in fact, told her to shut up. Well, that would wear off soon enough, but thank the gods, not while he was around.

  Slapping her keys on the counter, he let himself out of Crazy Town and into the welcome fresh, sunlit air. Rotating first one shoulder, then the other, he angled his head and looked up and down the street.

  Yes, there were people around, both shoppers walking down the sidewalks and people driving by in cars.

  He was just about to dismiss the woman forever as a mental case, when one small detail caught his attention.

  Everyone walking down the street was human. There weren’t any of the Elder Races in sight.

  That happened quite often, actually. There were far more humans than people of the Elder Races. … But he was standing in front of a popular Elder Races shop, which strengthened the likelihood that he would see a member of the Elder Races—any of the Elder Races—quite a bit.

  Frowning again, he turned his attention to the cars passing by. The next five vehicles were filled with humans too.

  It was probably just a huge, boring coincidence. But Tatiana had guards barricading her street. And it had seemed like she had sent a large number of troops to meet Pia’s flight.

  Fuck it. He would go check out Basket Case’s address and determine for himself whether or not there was anybody around.

  When he consulted Google Maps briefly on his smartphone, he found Basket Case lived in a neighborhood north and to the west. Pulling his cloaking tightly around him, he shapeshifted and took to the air. By car, he guessed it would take Basket Case a good forty-five minutes to drive into work. Sometimes he pitied wingless creatures.

  As he flew the distance, he turned over various thoughts in his mind like searching for the spark of jewels in a mound of earth.

  People, any kind of people, tended to congregate in enclaves and cluster in clumps. Sure, there were crossovers, but overall, families liked to flock to family-oriented amusements and neighborhoods. Hipsters flocked to whatever hipsters liked to do. Dragos was acres and miles and continents away from being a hipster, so he had no real understanding of that new subset of society, but he thought it involved drinking lots of artisanal coffee and organic wines.

  Those who were religious behaved in the same way. They went to church, or synagogues, or temples, and enjoyed social outings together. The Elder Races also followed the same behavioral trend. They tended to shop at Elder Races stores and live in neighborhoods filled with Elder Races creatures.

  The Light Fae were no exception. As a people, they tended to be clannish anyway, and Basket Case had said her mother lived on the next block over from her. It stood to reason that Basket Case probably lived in a neighborhood filled with Light Fae.

  Her mother was missing. Her co-workers and manager, who were in all probability Light Fae as well, had not come in to work.

  Locating the street on which Basket Case lived, he coasted down the length of it until he reached her block. Then he landed, shapeshifted and walked down the middle of the tree-lined street until he came up to her address.

  It looked like a modest, smart neighborhood, with a mix of single-family homes and other houses that appeared to be divided into apartments. Along with oaks and other varieties of trees, palm trees dotted either side of the streets. Fences were painted; lawns were well kept. While modest, this was not a neighborhood in decline.

  No cars traveled down the street to disrupt the direction of Dragos’s stroll.

  Nobody mowed their lawn.

  He began to listen closely for any signs of movement in the houses he passed. There were none. A couple of houses stood with their front doors open. Silence beat down on his head, along with the strength of the southern California sun.

  Basket Case had not been delusional, after all. There were no people in her neighborhood.

  Some people might think that meant he owed her an apology. In fact, if he considered WWPD, she would definitely say that he did, but as far as he was concerned, it was a moot point, as he had no intention of ever speaking to or seeing Basket Case again. There was just so much of the rest of his life to live, which took a far greater urgency.

  Wait, there was a sound. It came from some distance away, perhaps a couple of blocks over to the right. It sounded metallic, like a trash can had been knocked over.

  He broke into an easy jog, reached the end of the block and turned right. The small sound of his own footsteps overrode what he had heard, so he had to stop once or twice to listen again before moving forward.

  There—more sounds came from down this street. It was virtually a replica of the street he had just left. This was all part of the same neighborhood.

  On his left, a house stood with its front door open. He passed several more houses with open doors.

  Who leaves thei
r door open when they leave their house? People evacuating, or in a panic, except how could Basket Case live in this neighborhood and not be aware of an evacuation or a panic? Had she gone out the evening before, so she wasn’t home to notice this general air of abandonment?

  His mind shot to the unpleasant heart of the matter. Was he really going to have to talk to her again, after all?

  There. He stopped.

  The noises came from behind that stucco house. Now that he was closer, it sounded louder, like there were several creatures making it. A pack of dogs, perhaps, rooting through an alleyway. If people had left in a hurry, some of them might have abandoned their pets.

  He walked around the side of the house. A six-foot-high privacy fence surrounded the backyard, so in the last several feet, he gathered up speed and leaped over it.

  The backyard was charming and as well kept as the rest of the neighborhood. He jogged to the back fence, gathered himself and leaped again.

  As he landed in the alley, he startled a group of people.

  Quite a large group of people, all Light Fae, in various modes of dress. To a one, they were streaked with blood and open wounds.

  Staring, he straightened from his landing crouch as the group whipped around to glare at him. Their eyes were all black. No whites.

  Some had only half their faces, the remaining flesh looking as though it had been chewed by wild beasts.

  People tend to flock, and these were no exception either. Moving as one, they hurtled at him. They were incredibly, impossibly fast. There wasn’t enough room in the alley for him to shapeshift and launch. Then he thought to turn and leap back over the fence.

  As he crouched to spring, the foremost of the group gathered into a huge leap and landed on his back, knocking him off balance. It was followed by two more. Then the entire group was upon him. Pain flared as one of them bit him on his arm, tearing through the skin.

  Like the snick of a trigger on a gun, Dragos’s mind clicked over to Plan B:

  Fight savagely and throw lots and lots of fire.

  He cut loose.

  Chapter Five

  Tatiana’s residence reminded Pia of classic old Hollywood grandeur. The white mansion had Corinthian-style columns in the front, large receiving rooms and a large pool in the backyard surrounded by an immaculately kept garden.

  The furnishings inside were classic old-world Hollywood too. Pia’s suite had a massive four-poster bed in the bedroom with a peach coverlet and sheer drapes tied back, and antique Chippendale furniture. She had a sitting room all to herself, with a wood fireplace and two divans, and her bathroom had a walk-in, marble bathtub with gold furnishings.

  After unpacking and admiring the view out her windows, she texted Eva. I’m ready to go downstairs.

  Within the next breath, a rap sounded on her door. Eva didn’t wait for a reply but opened it and stuck her head in. “I’m ready too.”

  Unless they encountered a situation that warranted a change in plans, for now, while Pia was in the Light Fae Queen’s residence, she would have one guard with her at all times, so that Quentin, Aryal, and Eva could rotate shifts around the clock.

  Pia hoped that would help to generate a relaxed atmosphere among everyone, and besides, the other two were close by if anything happened.

  She stepped out in the hall and took the stairs with Eva by her side. Just like earlier at the airstrip, Bailey had evidently been waiting for them, and she moved smoothly to the bottom of the stairs to meet them.

  At least Bailey wasn’t flanked by ten more guards inside the house, Pia thought wryly. Because that would be awkward.

  “Are you all settled in?” Bailey asked.

  “Yes, thanks,” Pia replied cheerfully. “The place is magnificent. Is it all right if we look around?”

  “Sure,” Bailey told her. “I’ll come with you.”

  “Are you my babysitter?” Pia asked, smiling.

  The Light Fae woman returned her smile, but like before, on the tarmac, it was brief and faded again quickly. “It’s my pleasure to spend time with you.”

  So she is my babysitter, Pia said to Eva. I don’t mind. I suspected there would be somebody, but I did at least expect some kind of greeting from Tatiana when I arrived.

  Guess a Queen’s gotta do what a Queen’s gotta do. Eva’s mental voice sounded dubious.

  Pia, who had been on the receiving end of many events that needed immediate attention, didn’t feel nearly as dubious about Tatiana’s absence. Things happened, and when you were a demesne leader (or his mate), sometimes you had to react quickly.

  Bailey turned to indicate the direction of the rear of the house, and as they fell into step beside her, she said, “My mother asked me to apologize for her. She had planned to be free to greet you personally, but in the last two days she’s been dealing with an unexpected situation. I’m sure you know how it goes.”

  “I do, actually,” Pia replied. “We’re often disturbed in the middle of the night for one reason or another. Demesne business never seems to stop.”

  “I get it,” said Bailey. They reached double French doors, which she opened. She led them onto a wide verandah. “You and Dragos are one of those places where the buck stops, aren’t you?”

  “Yes, we are.”

  “My mom is too. It’s one of the reasons why I mostly live somewhere else. I love my family, but I don’t want to eat, drink and sleep all things Light Fae. And I really didn’t want to go into the family business. I have about as much acting ability as a tin can.”

  “What do you do, at your home?” Pia asked her curiously.

  Her first impression of Bailey had been one of tough competence, but the other woman hadn’t seemed all that friendly during the motorcade ride to Bel Air.

  Now, she received a different impression. Once they stepped inside the Queen’s home, Bailey seemed to have relaxed, and as a result, she had grown more talkative.

  “I run a security company out of Jamaica,” Bailey said.

  “What does a security company do?” Pia asked.

  “It can involve anything from supplying bodyguards for specific events to either running expeditions or providing security for them. One of the most interesting expeditions we recently undertook was to retrieve a magical library from a deserted island.”

  “You’re talking about Carling Severan’s library, aren’t you?” Pia said, her attention snagged by the scenario. “I heard about that. It must have been a fascinating trip.”

  “Yeah, it was. That was the trip my business partner Sebastian found the love of his life, mated and retired.” Bailey gave her a sidelong grin. “But usually things aren’t quite so eventful. On a daily basis, my job mostly involves a lot of drinking and suntanning. When we take on jobs to pay the bills, it can often involve a lot of fighting too, so by and large that makes me happy. Only thing I don’t like is the paperwork. Sebastian, my former partner, used to take care of most of that, but now that he’s retired, I’ve been drowning in it.”

  Out of the corner of her eye, Pia saw Eva smile. Pia told Bailey, “My husband hates paperwork too, which is why he has several assistants.”

  “Yeah, assistants.” Bailey heaved a sigh. “If you don’t do it yourself, you have to be a manager for somebody else who does. Or even a couple of somebody elses. I’m just not sure running a business by myself is going to work out. It takes away from the drinking and the suntanning.”

  Pia laughed. “Bummer.”

  As they talked, they stepped outside to walk the grounds. In the growing heat of the sunny morning, Bailey unbuttoned the jacket of her uniform, shrugged out of it and slung it over one shoulder. Underneath she wore a shoulder harness and gun over a plain white, short-sleeved shirt. The shirt hugged her lean torso and supple, muscled biceps.

  Pia had gotten used to the sight of armed people as a daily occurrence a long time ago, but she couldn’t help but wonder—if Bailey was comfortable enough in her role to shed the uniform, why did she still feel the need to go a
rmed?

  After all, Bailey was essentially in her own home, and there were other guards around. When sentinels or other military personnel visited Pia and Dragos’s house for any length of time, they disarmed, left their weapons in a safe place—usually Dragos’s office—and relaxed. It was only when they were making a brief stop that they didn’t bother.

  Did Bailey stay armed because Pia and her three guards were here? Or was it some other kind of Light Fae protocol? If Bailey was supposed to be on duty, perhaps she was required to be armed at all times.

  And if she ran a security company in Jamaica, what was she doing here in southern California?

  Pia filed those questions away to pursue another time. Hopefully, everybody would relax during her visit, and she might find a time to ask some of them at a later date.

  The grounds were beautifully landscaped. They weren’t as glorious as the former Elven High Lord’s consort Beluvial’s grounds were, but Beluvial had a special gift for growing things.

  Still, the Light Fae Queen’s gardens were beautifully kept and worthy of being featured in Home & Garden. When Pia thought of the sturdy, no-nonsense landscaping of grass, mulch and trees that they had decided to do around their home in upstate New York, a pang of homesickness washed over her.

  Thrusting that aside, she focused on the present. “The weather is gorgeous,” she said, taking a deep breath and turning in a circle to admire the cloudless blue sky. “When I left home last night, we were getting a combination of rain and snow, with a forecast of more snow through today.”

  “Did you bring your swimsuit?” Bailey asked. “L.A.’s forecast for the next week is more weather like today’s.”

  “I didn’t think to pack it,” she confessed.

  “No problem. Mom keeps a variety of swimsuits for guests, or if you want, we can always send out for one.” Bailey had taken them on a big circle around the property, and as they turned to stroll back in the direction they had come, she added, “Sorry, I’m not as good at hostessing as my sister Melly or my mom. I should have asked you if you’ve eaten breakfast already.”