Page 16 of Perfectly Perfect Pixie

“You don’t have to do that.” Peaches’s voice, much closer than it had been, turned my head. Now on his knees, Peaches leaned into me. “You don’t have to meet with Arie. I don’t want you placing yourself in danger. Not on my account.”

My ancient heart swooped. Peaches’s words softened my blunt edges, easing something in my soul I was sure had been vanquished long ago. “Your concern is appreciated, but you have nothing to worry about. Solitary wolves, even alphas, are no match for a vampire of my age. Did you not see what I did to the foolish wolf that threatened to cut your throat?”

Peaches swallowed, and his face paled. It was easy for me to forget that not all species were as impressed by blood and gore. Most were. Pixies were a rarity.

“I . . . I did. I don’t want anyone else dying on my account. I don’t even know if Arie is responsible for the aphids. It’s just a theory.”

“A very sound theory.” I defended Peaches’s judgment. “Everything will be fine. I’ll question Arie, and I’ll get your sprites. We’ll make your home safe and well. Trust me.” Trusting a vampire wasn’t always in one’s best interest. Honor wasn’t something highly touted within our society. Some even saw it as a weakness. Vampires could be ruthless and weren’t afraid to do what was needed to secure territory and safety. Just like fairies, we were tamer now, but the predator still lurked, ready to strike. In some ways, fairy law had made us more dangerous, not less. Now the danger was hidden and difficult to spot.

Regardless, Peaches had nothing to fear from me. At least not where Arie Belview and his sprites were concerned. Peaches’s blood, soul, and life were another issue. The more time I spent with the golden-blond pixie, the more I became convinced Peaches should stay safely tucked within his orchard, strengthening his barrier until it rejected me.

ChapterSeven

PEACHES

“One of my contacts came through.”

I’d stayed awake all night, waiting on Lucroy’s call. I’d been tense, flying here and there. My wing muscles ached, but they were no match for the pain in my heart. Everything in me deflated like a balloon that’d run afoul of a sharp object. Only, unlike the balloon, my deflation was lifesaving.

“They did?” Those two words rushed out of my mouth in a hopeful question. “Are you sure?”

Lucroy chuckled, low and deep. The sound sank into my soul, nesting there and taking root. “Positive. There is no reason for them to lie. Besides, dealing in sprites isn’t illegal as long as the sprites consent to their sale and relocation. It is my understanding that the sprites in question have lost their home due to deforestation. They are desperate to find a new, safe place to live. Having a pixie in the area will seal the deal. Of that, I am certain.”

“Okay. Good. That’s really good.” I didn’t like the idea of uprooting a sprite family. The fact they needed a home made the idea more palatable.

“Peaches.” Lucroy’s voice grew serious again. “I have to ask, are you certain this is your wish? Once the sprites are on your property, they will be difficult to extricate, should you wish it. I don’t know that you’ll be swarmed, but you won’t be alone with your trees and land any longer.”

I swallowed hard, well aware of the peaceful solitude I was giving up. To be fair, I’d rarely been around sprites and had no idea if they’d constantly be up in my business or if they understood boundaries. In the end, it didn’t matter. My orchard did. The aphids had already done far too much damage, and waiting would only worsen the matter.

“I’m sure,” I answered with as much confidence as I could muster. “How much?” Those two words weren’t nearly as sure.

Lucroy threw out a number that made my stomach drop. It could have been worse—a lot worse. Still, it would take every last cent of savings plus a little more. Swallowing hard, I said, “I’ve nearly got that much, but not all of it.”

“It’s nothing,” Lucroy answered, voice cool and entirely without concern. “I will see if I can talk her down. I doubt I can get the price much lower, but vampires can be very persuasive. If the price is still more than you have, we can work out an agreeable payment system. As I said earlier, I would happily make this a gift, but understand if you are uncomfortable with the idea.”

I couldn’t believe how kind Lucroy was being. Vamps weren’t known for their altruistic generosity, prompting the question: Why? “Not that I’m not grateful, but . . . why would you do that?”

Silence. The quiet stretched on long enough that I double-checked my phone, making sure the call hadn’t been dropped. Hushed and so silent I had to strain to hear it, Lucroy answered, “I fear the answer would frighten you.”

I stared at my phone, lips parted, words failing. Finally, I got my shit together and asked, “Why? Why would—”

“Peaches.” Lucroy’s tone was the same he’d used with Leon last night. “There are some questions that should not be asked. For now, be at ease. The sprites come with no strings attached. Should you come to an agreement with them, they are yours, free and clear. Now, if it is agreeable with you, I will set up a meeting tomorrow evening, after sunset. Would you prefer the meeting here, at Dusk, or at your orchard?”

“The orchard.” I didn’t hesitate. “If this is going to be their home, I want the sprites to be able to see what they are agreeing to. I want them to be happy here.”

Lucroy had said sprites would be nearly impossible to get rid of once I allowed them into my orchard. Even if they irritated the shit out of me, I couldn’t imagine sending them away. A safe home was something everyone deserved.

“I’ll call you with an exact time this evening. Try to get some rest until then. Good day, Peaches.”

Silence hung in the air. I stared, watching as my phone screen timed out and blackened. My brain buzzed, running on adrenaline, worry, fear, and a hint of arousal. My body was a different story. I felt drained. Between spending hours away from my land and the stress of the aphids, I was wiped.

Despite the ache in my back, I grabbed a blanket and flew out of my cottage. The sun would be up soon, and I planned to spend the day napping, cradled within the arch of my favorite tree.

* * *

Witches were . . . different. I’d met a few over the years but generally steered clear. I didn’t necessarily have anything against them, but I was properly wary.

More human than any other species, witches and warlocks didn’t fall too far from the Homo sapiens branch of the family tree. Some even thought they should be classified ashuman. Genetically speaking, there wasn’t much difference. Witches and warlocks shared the same genome. What was different was that they had ‘turned on genes’ straight-up humans didn’t. Witches and warlocks demanded they be placed in another species category, and fairies relented. I thought fairies just didn’t care all that much.

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