Read Online Pia Saves the Day by Thea Harrison - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Thea Harrison
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lights crisscrossed the land, following roads and highlighting houses. The scenery reminded her of the artwork that hung in his offices in New York.
When they neared their land, he slowed and circled, approaching the area in an oblique fashion. She had no doubt he was searching the area with all of his considerable senses, but she already knew what he would find.
Nothing, and no one. The property had been abandoned the day before, and except for a few safety lights, their house lay dark and deserted. Patiently, she waited for him to arrive at the same conclusion.
Apparently he did, for in an abrupt change of course, he landed in the wide clearing in front of the house and set her on her feet. As she watched, he changed back into his human form and strode over to take her arm again.
“A lot of people were here recently,” he said. “Where did they go?”
“We knew you weren’t thinking clearly.” Snapped at her. She closed her eyes, willing the nightmarish image away. “But we also knew the dragon might come back. I ordered everyone to stay away until I told them they could return.”
She took him up to the house. As they approached, his glittering gaze took in everything—the darkened, empty trailers a short distance away, the few cars that were still parked to one side of the house, the piles of building materials, two Caterpillar tractors resting at the edge of the nearby tree line.
Pausing on the front step, he turned to look over the clearing again, and he made a low sound of frustration at the back of his throat.
“Why do I remember some things and not others?” he muttered. “Those are cars. Those two vehicles are bulldozers. This apparatus attached to the side of the house is scaffolding. You called your friend on a satellite phone. You lit the fire with a BIC lighter. All those details are readily available, yet I wouldn’t know my own name if you hadn’t told me.”
Heart aching, she shook her head. “I don’t know. The mind is a complicated, mysterious thing. We could consult with doctors who specialize in traumatic brain injuries. They might be able to help.”
Other than giving her one quick, frowning glance, he didn’t respond to her suggestion. Instead, he grasped the doorknob and turned it. The door was unlocked. He pushed it open.
Twisting her hands together, she followed him into the house. Inside, the renovating materials—ladders, drop cloths, cans of paint and various tools—had been stacked neatly to the sides of the open spaces.
Silently, Dragos strode through the ground floor. She followed, flicking on light switches as they went.
His pace picked up until she had to trot to keep up with him. He paused in the doorway of his large, state-of-the-art office, and she hovered at his shoulder. “My scent is all over this room.”
She told him, “That’s because this room is yours, and you spend a lot of time in here. It’s one of those complicated concepts.”
His jaw flexed. She thought of all the places he would want to explore, that room would be at the top of the list, but after one more sweeping glance, he left it and moved on, prowling through the rest of the house, his presence brooding and intense.
She followed him everywhere he wanted to go—out on the patio, through the palatial kitchen, downstairs to the lower level.
Once, he paused for long moments in the hallway just outside of the hidden panic room. Hope surged again as she watched him. It was an exhausting, out-of-control feeling, as if it was a creature that existed entirely separate from her own needs or wishes.
But he said nothing, and after a few moments, he moved on.
Nerves started to get to her when he took the stairway up to the second floor. She felt strung out, as if she had drunk too much caffeine for too many days. At the top of the stairs he hesitated and turned right. Her heart started to pound, and her hands shook.
She thought, I should say something. I need to warn him.
“You’re
When they neared their land, he slowed and circled, approaching the area in an oblique fashion. She had no doubt he was searching the area with all of his considerable senses, but she already knew what he would find.
Nothing, and no one. The property had been abandoned the day before, and except for a few safety lights, their house lay dark and deserted. Patiently, she waited for him to arrive at the same conclusion.
Apparently he did, for in an abrupt change of course, he landed in the wide clearing in front of the house and set her on her feet. As she watched, he changed back into his human form and strode over to take her arm again.
“A lot of people were here recently,” he said. “Where did they go?”
“We knew you weren’t thinking clearly.” Snapped at her. She closed her eyes, willing the nightmarish image away. “But we also knew the dragon might come back. I ordered everyone to stay away until I told them they could return.”
She took him up to the house. As they approached, his glittering gaze took in everything—the darkened, empty trailers a short distance away, the few cars that were still parked to one side of the house, the piles of building materials, two Caterpillar tractors resting at the edge of the nearby tree line.
Pausing on the front step, he turned to look over the clearing again, and he made a low sound of frustration at the back of his throat.
“Why do I remember some things and not others?” he muttered. “Those are cars. Those two vehicles are bulldozers. This apparatus attached to the side of the house is scaffolding. You called your friend on a satellite phone. You lit the fire with a BIC lighter. All those details are readily available, yet I wouldn’t know my own name if you hadn’t told me.”
Heart aching, she shook her head. “I don’t know. The mind is a complicated, mysterious thing. We could consult with doctors who specialize in traumatic brain injuries. They might be able to help.”
Other than giving her one quick, frowning glance, he didn’t respond to her suggestion. Instead, he grasped the doorknob and turned it. The door was unlocked. He pushed it open.
Twisting her hands together, she followed him into the house. Inside, the renovating materials—ladders, drop cloths, cans of paint and various tools—had been stacked neatly to the sides of the open spaces.
Silently, Dragos strode through the ground floor. She followed, flicking on light switches as they went.
His pace picked up until she had to trot to keep up with him. He paused in the doorway of his large, state-of-the-art office, and she hovered at his shoulder. “My scent is all over this room.”
She told him, “That’s because this room is yours, and you spend a lot of time in here. It’s one of those complicated concepts.”
His jaw flexed. She thought of all the places he would want to explore, that room would be at the top of the list, but after one more sweeping glance, he left it and moved on, prowling through the rest of the house, his presence brooding and intense.
She followed him everywhere he wanted to go—out on the patio, through the palatial kitchen, downstairs to the lower level.
Once, he paused for long moments in the hallway just outside of the hidden panic room. Hope surged again as she watched him. It was an exhausting, out-of-control feeling, as if it was a creature that existed entirely separate from her own needs or wishes.
But he said nothing, and after a few moments, he moved on.
Nerves started to get to her when he took the stairway up to the second floor. She felt strung out, as if she had drunk too much caffeine for too many days. At the top of the stairs he hesitated and turned right. Her heart started to pound, and her hands shook.
She thought, I should say something. I need to warn him.
“You’re
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