Page 17 of The Pixies' Chosen

Groaning, I sink down onto the small stack of books that is now serving as a bench for me on the coffee table since they are otherwise absolutely useless to me now at my current size, and glare at my living room. At least I got the chance to decorate before I was shrunk, but the festive decorations aren’t lifting my mood quite as much as they usually do. I’m just so… bored. What the hell do pixies do when they aren’t going at it like rabbits?

Not that I’m complaining about that part. Not at all. Tryst was exactly the sort of enthusiastic and considerate lover that girl could dream of, and he was well equipped to make those dreams even sweeter. And with two! I shake my head in wonder, a smile briefly curling the corners of my mouth before disappearing again as I groan and drop my head into my hands.

So boring.

Leveling a disgusted look at the remote beside me, I give the power button a savage kick. Predictably, my foot bounces off it without making any impact on the button. If it had sunk even the tiniest bit, it would have at least been gratifying. As it stands now, it just pisses me off.

“You suck even more,” I tell the remote. “I loyally maintain you with fresh batteries so that I can enjoy my horror-thon, and this is what you do? You would think as often as I’ve mashedthose buttons down that they would have at least some give to them. Bastard.”

I know that I’m starting to drop into the depths of self-pity now, but I think it’s warranted. I haven’t so much as shed a tear of frustration since being rudely shrunk so I’m probably due a good cry… or scream. Maybe both.

A miserable sigh escapes me, and I can barely rouse the enthusiasm to glance up when I hear a hum and the rustle of the drapes covering our little entrance as Tryst enters with a glowering Havoc in tow. The male’s nose twitches, and his expression immediately darkens, no doubt in response to the smell of sex filling the space.

I have to hand it to the species. For such tiny bodies, they can certainly sex up a space thickly with their pheromones.

Great. Might as well have more to lump onto the misery pile. Without lifting my chin from my palm, I arch an eyebrow in Havoc’s direction, just waiting for whatever barb he has prepared for me. Instead, he throws something large and furry with a suspiciously long, naked tail and a squeal of surprise escapes me, and I nearly fall off the stack of books as I scrabble away in an attempt to escape what looks like a giant brown mouse.

He threw a mouse at me! “I can’t believe you threw a mouse at me!” I shriek as I stare at it, appalled, as it bounces off the book and flops, clearly dead as a doornail and twice as disgusting.

Swallowing back my nausea, my gaze slowly lifts back to him as I wonder what he is going to lob at me next. I am surprised, however, when he merely narrows his eyes at me, his body language like a hunting predator ready to pounce as his wings flare and flutter behind him.

His dark gaze darts over to Tryst, his brow dipping in what I bet is annoyance as he leans against a long spear. “What is going on with this crazy female now?”

I snort softly in derision. Of course, it would all be because I am crazy. “It’s not crazy to not want dead mice chucked at you,” I snap. “What the hell do you expect me to do with it anyway?”

Havoc rolls his eyes upward and gestures to the rodent with a nasty smile. “Eat it, of course. I am certain Tryst can help you prepare it over a fire if you are incapable.”

Eat it? Is he serious? My stomach roils as I stare at it. It has to be another one of his cruel jokes. And here I was complaining about being bored. I’ve had freshly killed food before. My aunt had chickens, and there were many occasions where my cousins and I were sent to fetch a chicken for supper, but a chicken is a chicken, and a mouse is a mouse. And no mouse is passing between these lips if I can help it.

Thankfully, Tryst moves to action and immediately snatches the mouse off the floor with a contrite grimace. “I will just take this away. Havoc, give Ammayi some of the seeds you have gathered instead, and I will go find something more suitable.”

Havoc’s black eyes narrow on him and then on me, but he finally shrugs and unloops the sack from his shoulder to drop it on the coffee table by my feet. Sunflower seeds spill out of it, and an excited little sound escapes me as I spot their tan and black striped shells. Cracking a seed open, I give Tryst a grateful smile, and he returns it sweetly as he hoists the rodent over his shoulder before zipping through the air toward the exit. The seed is as big as a foot-long sub, and I nibble on it hungrily while I watch Tryst depart and do my level best to ignore Havoc’s presence altogether.

Unfortunately, the seed is bland as hell and after a while it becomes a chore to eat as it takes on a distinctive cardboard taste and consistency in my mouth. I make a face as I chew. Who knewa bit of salt and heat made that much of a difference? Man, I wish the seeds were roasted into a deliciously salty snack.

Sighing heavily, I continued to nibble little bits off the large seed, my enthusiasm dimming by the moment. I am therefore ecstatic when Tryst returns moments later with a leaf holding several cuts of fire-cooked meat, the scent of which makes me salivate as I toss aside the half-eaten sunflower kernel and eagerly reach for the stick laden with meat that he hands me. Now this is more like it! There is a shadow of apprehension and guilt that seems to whisper from him and through me, but I’m guessing that has to do with wherever he stole his ill-gotten gains from.

Havoc frowns at the meat, his mouth opening slightly, and I brace myself for more snide commentary. Tryst thankfully shuts him down by thrusting another meat-laden stick his way with a stern glare that seems to have gotten its message across because he accepts the food with a cool smile as his eyes turn speculatively on me.

Not in the mood for more of Havoc’s head games, I turn away from him as I give the meat in my hand a sniff and my stomach rumbles happily. It smells like chicken. He must have found a home where someone was preparing dinner and stolen some of the meat off the table when no one was looking. I really ought to reprimand him and explain to him that it is not right to steal food from other people, but at this moment my moral high ground is below sea level and ravaged by Hurricane Hunger sweeping through.

We can discuss liberating meat from the kitchens of others later, I decide as I pluck off a piece of meat. No need to get overzealous while we’re still working out logistics. I am sure leaving the forest for a human city presents enough challenges for them without throwing on a human mate, and I am grateful for their caring—even Havoc’s, as ungracious as it frequentlytends to be. Still, I have to appreciate the fact that he tried, even if Tryst is the one who produced something that is actually edible. An A for effort in any case, regardless of how off the mark it was. I don’t know what made him think I would eat a mouse, but I can forgive and forget just as long as he doesn’t throw any more dead things at me.

I shake my head in wonder and send up a silent thanks that at least Tryst has some common sense when it comes to feeding me. And his cooking skills aren’t too bad either, I decide as I blow on the fragrantly spiced meat in an attempt to cool it as it scorches my fingers. The moment I’m certain it won’t sear my tongue, I pop it into my mouth with a happy moan.

Mmm. Good stuff. I lick the grease from my fingers with a happy little hum and have the misfortune of looking up to find Havoc’s gaze pinned on me, the corners of his dark pewter mouth curled in a cold smirk. I frown back at him, confused. He’s so damn creepy at times, and that is something coming from someone deep into the horror fandom. Perhaps I should be glad that he wants nothing to do with me, but my traitorous little black heart protests that I am, in fact, not happy about it, and I shrug off that thought as I devour every bit of food off my stick. I even lick the stick itself, bemoaning that it’s all gone even as my stomach objects to the idea of me taking another bite of anything at all.

Tryst’s eyes sparkle at me as he sets aside his own stick and drops his hands gracefully to his thighs, his crossed legs giving me teasing glimpses of his inner thigh from beneath his loincloth.

“Now that you have filled your stomach and solved that problem, why not tell us why you were looking so unhappy when we entered,zini?”

I look at him curiously, but Havoc grins evilly from where he is reclined at Tryst’s side. “It means tiny annoying one.”

I gape in offense but Tryst thwacks Havoc in the back of the head with his wings as he buzzes them irritably at the male, his anger washing over me with shocking clarity.

“It does not,” he retorts before giving me an exasperated smile. “Ignore him.Zinijust refers to someone who is adorably small. Then there is alsoafa, which means cherished love—just so you know in advance before Havoc tries to sell you more nonsense.”

Havoc shrugs casually but his smile merely grows, and I narrow my eyes at him suspiciously.

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