Page 24 of The Pixies' Chosen

The male grunts, but he doesn’t break his insane speed. He zips sporadically, banking right and left at hard angles as he deftly avoids colliding with much bigger beings and objects. For whatever reason, Havoc keeps at roughly head height, or just above it, following the streets rather than flying higher over grassy stretches and out of the way. I can’t even begin to imagine his reasoning; I merely cringe and whisper a litany of apologies no one hears as he careens past pedestrians. No one except perhaps Tryst, who caught up with us quickly and weaves through the air with Havoc above the streets in a dance of pixie lights. Catching my eye, he grins and winks at me, his wings a shimmering blur of blue brightened by his light.

I groan softly and bury my face in Havoc’s neck, knowing that their chaotic flight along the streets is likely drawing the attention of those walking on the sidewalks. I peek around his shoulder, and sure enough heads are turning our way as we zip by, and the excited voice of children breaks through the air with unadulterated excitement.

Despite the nauseating speed, I loosen my iron grip around Havoc’s neck to look around curiously. Peering down, I smile as my gaze falls on a small green child no older than five or six with prominent pointed ears peeking up from her braids, missing front teeth between her fangs, and the brightest yellow eyes I’veever seen. She giggles as we pass, her chubby hands breaking free from her parents’ hold to wave in the air at us.

“Momma, pixies! Look, pixies!” she shrieks, and my lips tip in a tremulous smile at the pure joy in her face.

Tryst spins in the air toward her playfully, and to my surprise Havoc grins and follows suit as both pixies dart around in dancing displays of light that light up her sweet face. Her grin widens further, her giggles ringing as other children cram closer, human and nonhuman alike, their smiles melting my heart, and I smother a giggle against Havoc’s shoulders as he spirals through the air, diving and weaving among the children in a complicated dance with Tryst that draws a murmur of appreciation from all those present.

I wave shyly to the children as they point toward us, my heart lightening further before we peel off and the laughter of the children slowly fades as they shrink into the distance and disappear within the crowd that grows progressively thicker as we enter the city park.

My chest tightens and I feel as if my heart stutters with wonder and delight as the first of the lit-up Halloween decorations comes into view. Light forms scenes on their metal frames, and massive ornaments stand in festive displays. Ghosts haunt over giant artificial jack-o’-lanterns, reapers stand in silent escort amid witches, vampires, and all manner of spooks of the season, larger than life and filling my world entirely with their special magic in ways that I thought I wouldn’t be able to enjoy again. I smile as I take it all in, my eyes falling with excitement on the cosplayers who come to the park in the spirit of the festivities.

There are the usual zombies doing their collective walks to the amusement of onlookers with their fun interpretations and twists on zombiehood. There are also witches cackling and stirring their pots of brew, and distributing their brew, whichI know from experience are very real drinks of juice and something harder for the adults. All available for a small fee to those who pass.

These are familiar sights and are quite nostalgic. And yet sprinkled among them are nonhumans as well now who seem to have adopted the holiday and gotten into the spirit over the years with a certain splash. Werewolves dance around in shorn, bloody clothing in mimicry of human lore, despite it being in common knowledge that they are actually very much the opposite. Trolls and orcs stroll along selling candy and popcorn wearing spooky versions of their traditional clothing as festive music blasts out from a stage.

I shake my head in wonder. I haven’t been to the downtown Halloween events in years. Like most things considered childish, I quit going when I was a teenager and sipped some of the coven’s forbidden hard cider with my friends. I hadn’t realized how much it had blown up into an all-out party. Leaning forward dangerously with my hands clasped around Havoc’s neck, I visually inhale everything as we fly effortless among the crowds. When necessary, Havoc takes us a little higher so that I always have an unobstructed view of a world blown-up and large with holiday magic that hasn’t been this great since I was a kid and first fell in love with Halloween when Papa took me to the downtown festivities.

I laugh in wonder as I allow myself to hang from Havoc’s arms as everything whirls leisurely around me despite his rapid flight. With everything so large, we’re like small planets orbiting around suns, and everything feels brighter, larger, more colorful, and more alive. Havoc grins, and my heart nearly stops at his devastating beauty. It’s like I’m in the embrace of some sort of dark god whose eyes are lit up just for me. I have never seen Havoc smile before, but now I want him to always smile. I want to have him look at me this way always and forgetthe contemptuous sneers and dark scowls in my direction. His chuckle warming my ear, he spins in place before drawing me close to his body to flit in a dizzying rhythm with the music pounding through the park.

We’re dancing! I laugh louder with delight and release my death hold on him to spread my arms wide as he spins me round and round. Another pair of arms encircles me as Tryst plucks me from Havoc’s embrace, and while his flight is less maniacal, my hair flows freely on the air as we weave and spin. Back and forth they pass me between them, my breath hitching with excitement between each transfer as it grows more playful.

Even Tryst’s face is lit up in ways it has not been for days, his joy tangible and echoing through me. He doesn’t think I’ve noticed the touch of sadness in his eyes when he thinks I’m not looking, but I have. I’ve felt it deep within the core of me, mingling with my own sadness and it has made me feel even tinier and more helpless. This is better—so much better. I hug him tightly to me as we whirl again, my skirt and curly hair fluttering madly around us. I know my hair is going to be an impossible rat’s nest when I go to comb it out before bed tonight, but this is worth it.

Tryst is still laughing when we finally alight in a tree near the stage, giving me the best view I could ever hope for of the performing band. I tap my foot on the wide expanse of the branch and grin over at Havoc as he drops down beside us, his violet light shimmering brighter than I think I’ve ever seen it before—even brighter than when he was flirting with Inika.

No. No, I’m not going to ruin the mood thinking about that.

Tryst murmurs something to Havoc before flitting from the branch. I watch him leave, suddenly feeling a little uncertain. I’ve never been left with Havoc before. I glance over at him and his gaze softens as he peers down at me. I give him a nervous smile and then inwardly curse myself as the warmth in his gazeslowly recedes as an air of awkwardness descends between us. I fidget in place, clueless of how to remedy this. Technically, Havoc has been the one being insufferable to me, but I really haven’t gone out of my way to draw him in either while I’ve been throwing myself eagerly at Tryst’s open affection.

I wince inwardly.Way to go, Ammayi. Just go ahead and make it a party of two with Tryst and pretend like Havoc doesn’t even exist—like that hasn’t been making Tryst absolutely miserable too.

The merriment of the last little while seems to grow more distant by the moment so I’m relieved when Tryst returns with a walnut shell. He’s breathing hard, but he grins as he holds it aloft.

“There is a walnut tree not too far away,” he breathlessly explains. “I cracked it open and removed the fruit so that I can get this for us.”

He hands the shell to me and the sweet smell of hot cider rises to my nose, the warmth of its steam driving the chill from my cheeks. A slow smile stretches across my face with delight as I bring the shell to my lips and sip. I refuse to dwell on the fact that the shell wasn’t thoroughly washed first. If I’m going to nitpick everything, I might as well sentence myself to never enjoying anything. Besides, I’m reasonably confident that they wouldn’t give me anything that might make me sick.

Immediately my mind goes back to the mouse that Havoc brought back and force myself to regard it carefully. He wasn’t trying to torture me back then, was he? Did pixies really eat mice? I try to think carefully about what might be reasonable for a pixie to hunt for meat and feel an immediate wash of guilt. Gods, did he really try to provide for me, and I basically kicked it back in his face? I’m such an idiot.

I glance over at him and a cautiously optimistic feeling settles within me as I pass him the shell. A faint smile pulls at his lips ashe accepts it. For a moment I’m charmed by the surly beast. He is gruff and a bit grouchy, not to mention has a biting sense of humor, but he isn’t so bad. And Tryst obviously loves him, which means he must have some redeemable traits. I will have to ask him about it later.

“Hey, pixie… Midnight. You up there!” a male voice bellows.

Curious, I glance down at the same moment my males peer over the branch to a goblin grinning up at us. A goblin with a familiar, adorable little girl in his arms and a curvy brunette on his arm in a gothic witch getup. The goblin’s face lights up as he spots me, and he crows happily.

“Ah, look at you. You have your own little family, eh, Midnight? I knew that never would there be a lone pixie. You have a small hive, but size isn’t everything.”

Havoc rolls his eyes, and I almost take it for his usual pissy expression except I catch a glimmer of amusement in his dark eyes. “The name is Havoc, fool Grimsal!” he shouts back.

It is obvious that this Grimsal hears him because the goblin bursts into laughter and quickly relays Havoc’s words to the woman beside him before peering back up at us.

“A human mate too, I see. Humans are lusty mates, so enjoy her well,” he calls only to be elbowed sharply by his mate. “Oof! Wicked woman!” His grin suddenly widens as his face lights up. “Oh—an idea! Come by our home tomorrow. We are having a pumpkin party. It’s just us so not much of a party, but you are invited, and we will have snacks. Never was there a goblin house without plenty of snacks… and liquor,” he adds thoughtfully, making his daughter giggle when his mate scowls at him.

She shakes her head in exasperation but then beams up at us in the tree. “Grimsal was talking half the night about you and not seeing pixies migrating to the human world before. We’re planning to return to this part of town tomorrow afternoon, so if you’re interested in coming just meet us here around noon.If not, then it’s no bother,” she adds with a cheerful grin, and I immediately understand why the goblin fell in love with her.

They are clearly a good match and that suddenly makes me very self-conscious of my own shaky relationship with the males beside me. I can’t even imagine Havoc tolerating doing something so family-centered with me when he’s spent days avoiding any sort of intimacy. But I’m surprised when he glances briefly at me and Tryst and nods.

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