Page 17 of Perfectly Perfect Pixie

“Good evening, Mr. Peaches.” The witch, who’d been introduced as Mattie, short for Matilda, was congenial enough. Golden highlights shot through her wild, red hair and glinted in the car lights Lucroy’s driver had left on. The night had crept in, and darkness blackened the surrounding countryside as she stood just outside my boundary.

I shot a glance at Lucroy. “Um, Peaches is fine.” I wasn’t comfortable with the additional title.

Mattie’s eyes crinkled with her happy grin. Clapping her hands in front of her chest, her bangles and rings clinked together, the sound of metal sharp against the backdrop of crickets and frogs.

“Wonderful! Pixies are always such a delight.”

My wings fluttered, sprinkling the area in dust. Mattie’s eyes narrowed, focusing on the golden haze surrounding me. Reaching out, she held her hand palm up. My dust vanished almost as soon as it hit her skin. Witches and warlocks had tried, and failed, to capture pixie dust—to turn it into something more stable. Something more usable. Maybe that was my true issue with them. The greedy gaze that followed my dust was unsettling.

Needlessly clearing his throat, Lucroy moved closer, sidling up to me and placing a hand on the small of my back.

Mattie’s sharp gaze didn’t miss the contact.

“Perhaps, we should get on with the introduction.” Lucroy’s voice was pleasant enough, but it still sent a shiver down my spine.

Mattie must have felt the same way. “Of course.” She clapped again, the wide sleeves of her dress pooling around her elbows. “But first.” Mattie pulled a box out of her pocket, popping open the top like she was getting ready to propose. Instead of a ring, a small, triangular plastic object was inside.

Blinking, I stared at the light blue plastic, completely perplexed.

“It’s so you can understand,” Mattie clucked when I twittered, completely dumbfounded.

“Understand?” I sent another glance Lucroy’s way, my eyes pleading for a better explanation.

Shifting, Lucroy’s fingers slid along the silky fabric on my back. His touch was cool but lit a fire under my skin. “Apparently, sprites are too small, their voices too quiet, for most to hear,” Lucroy clarified.

“Not only that,” Mattie hurried to amend, “their language is a series of clicks and pitches. Without this,” she held up the box with the strange blue plastic piece, “you wouldn’t be able to understand a word they said.”

“Oh.” My eyes lit up, and I flew closer to the object that had suddenly become much more interesting. “And this little thing will help with that?” It looked like a chunk of oddly formed plastic, as if it had been warm and someone had just dropped a little blob on a plate and allowed it to cool.

Mattie tsked, lifting the plastic from its box. “It might look simple, but it’s a challenging piece of spellcraft. You think the price I’m asking is for the sprites alone?” A single, crimson eyebrow shot up, highlighting Mattie’s gold-green eyes. “Even I’m not that greedy. You’re paying for my skills as much as the sprites, my sunflower pixie friend.”

I wasn’t willing to call this witch my friend, but I certainly didn’t want to make her my enemy. Witchcraft wasn’t something you messed around with.

“Here.” Mattie held the chunk of plastic out to me. “Place it in your ear.”

Before I could grab it, Lucroy’s fingers plucked it from the box. Holding it up to me, Lucroy asked, “May I?”

Heat flushed my skin. Tilting my head, I pushed my hair behind a pointed ear, clearing the way. As always, Lucroy’s touch was gentle, his skin cool but not uncomfortable.

“There,” he said while settling it into my ear canal. Surprisingly, it wasn’t as uncomfortable as I thought it would be. “How does it feel?”

I shrugged. “Not bad. It’ll take some getting used to, but I don’t think that will be hard.”

Lucroy smiled, just the slightest tilt of his lips, his fangs covered. Fingertips ghosting across my cheek, Lucroy reached behind my ear, pulling my hair from behind and settling it around my shoulders.

“So soft,” Lucroy murmured. I wasn’t sure if he even realized he’d spoken aloud.

I was so caught off guard I nearly forgot Mattie was there. Movement caught my attention, the shift of her long, flowing dress finally pulling my gaze toward her. Rustling around in the back seat of Lucroy’s car, Mattie pulled out a wooden box that took up nearly the length and width of her chest.

“Mr. Moony, if you wouldn’t mind?” Mattie held the box out to Lucroy, and he took it with ease. Sliding up a small window on the box’s side, Mattie leaned toward it and said, “You can come out now. Peaches, the pixie we spoke of earlier, is here and ready to meet you.”

I watched with bated breath as I waited. The dimmed glow within the box brightened, lighting up Mattie’s face and showing off the grooves of age. Something infinitely small but exceedingly bright slid out of the box and landed on Mattie’s outstretched palm. Its wings were a blur of motion, parts of its body nearly obscured behind the near-blinding luminescence. Hardly larger than a Christmas tree light and three times brighter, the sprite flared.

“Peaches?” A tiny, high-pitched voice echoed in my right ear, making me jump.

Lucroy was beside me in an instant. “Are you well?” Lucroy asked worriedly.

“I’m fine. I just . . . Did you hear that?”

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