Page 25 of Perfectly Perfect Pixie

With his hands on his hips, Leon whispered, “I don’t like it.”

“I don’t either, but that has little to do with what will be. Come, let’s forget about this obnoxious and completely unwelcome bit of paper. The evening is young, and I have important guests arriving in less than an hour. I do not want this latest bit of information to sour the night.” I’d been looking forward to seeing Peaches again, and not even the threat of vampire council investigation was going to ruin it.

“Do you want me to hang around tonight, keep an eye on things?” Leon’s dark gaze focused on me, his intentions clearly protective.

“That would be appreciated. Have you anything to report yet?”

“No.” Leon shook his head. “Only whispers, but nothing concrete, and I don’t want to make decisions based on hearsay. I will say this, you’ve got a lot more loyal nestmates than disgruntled ones. Most are happy living under your rule. They’ve prospered and don’t want to go back to living under a hard hand.”

Most of the vampires in my nest had come to me, seeking either asylum or a different atmosphere. Some thrived under strict governance. Others did not.

“Thank you, Leon.” I placed a weighted hand on Leon’s shoulder, edging him back toward the bar. “Now, try to place this unpleasant council business from your mind. Johnny has informed me that his cousin gave him a prime bottle of honeysuckle mead, and I’m afraid our dubious bartender has every intention of seeing a drunken pixie or two this evening.”

Leon stared at me with a slight head tilt, crimson eyebrows raised, revealing fathomless black pools. “You don’t say? It’s been a moon or two since I’ve seen a drunk pixie. That might make hanging out here worthwhile.” Leon cracked a smirk, fangs tucked behind amused lips.

“Just remember, both those inebriated pixies will be off-limits.” My warning was foolish. Leon wouldn’t do anything untoward. Still, I felt the need to say it. My protective instincts toward Peaches were nearly insatiable and beyond my control.

Leon darkly chuckled. “Don’t worry, Lucroy. I’ll just sit back and enjoy the show.”

“Excellent.” The envelope in my hand felt weightier than mere ounces. “If you’ll forgive me, I would like to take this note and bury it somewhere safe.”

A quick nod was Leon’s response, and I made for my underground home. My nestmates didn’t need to know of the council’s interest in the wolf I’d rightfully slaughtered. No matter the council’s ruling, I couldn’t find it in me to regret my actions. There’d been no true thought behind them. I’d acted on instinct. I hadn’t survived for over six hundred years by ignoring my vampiric instincts. I had no intention to start ignoring them now.

ChapterEleven

LUCROY

“Goddess, have you ever tasted anything like this?” Phil asked, cheeks flushed a rosy pink. He was on his second glass of honeysuckle mead. Sedrick’s arm was anchored around Phil’s waist, tucking him in close. Pushing his cup toward Sedrick’s lips, Phil said, “You need to try this.”

Sedrick’s indulgent eyes spoke volumes. “I think it’s a little sweeter than my tastes, sweetheart.”

Phil blew air through his lips, making a raspberry sound before merrily smiling and declaring, “More for me and Peaches!”

“Ohhh, absolutely.” Peaches reached for the bottle of honeysuckle mead, pouring a healthy dose into Phil’s glass and topping off his own.

Sedrick’s low chuckle filled the air as we shared an amused glance across the table. Vampires didn’t get traditionally drunk, at least not on alcohol. We were known to getblood drunk, but that was a different matter altogether. Although, to be fair, blood-drunk vamps often acted just as foolish as our pixie paramours.

“This is fantastic mead!” Peaches eagerly nodded, placing an exclamation point at the end of his statement. “Fauns make the best honeysuckle mead.”

So far, Peaches hadn’t slurred his words. With a third of the bottle gone and two-thirds to go, I figured it was only a matter of time.

“You’ve had this before?” Phil’s grass-green eyes widened as he leaned across the table. Pink pixie dust filled the air as Phil’s wings beat furiously with excitement.

“A couple of times. It’s too expensive to drink all the time.” Peaches sagely answered.

“Expensive?” Phil’s wings fluttered before they shut down. Eyes flying to the glass in his hand, Phil suddenly looked appalled. “Sedrick, did you know this is expensive?” Phil held up his half-empty glass. “Why didn’t you tell me? I don’t—”

“It’s a gift,” I hastened to answer, stilling Phil’s worries. “From Johnny,” I added, lest Phil became flustered that I’d footed the bill.

“Oh.” Phil’s cheeks flushed, and he cuddled closer to Sedrick.

The werewolf certainly didn’t mind. I wouldn’t have minded if Peaches followed suit. Golden pixie dust drifted around me, and when I glanced down, Peaches’s large, golden eyes stared up at me.

It had been a few centuries since I’d felt flustered, long enough that I hardly recognized the emotion. My slow heart picked up speed. Even stimulated, my heart rate was far slower than a living human. My borrowed ogre and human blood sped through my body just a little faster. Enough I felt its warmth. Or maybe that was Peaches’s body heat I was borrowing.

“It was really nice of Johnny to do that,” Peaches said, voice soft enough I had to lean in to hear him. Peaches met me halfway, tilting his head up and going up on his knees. “It was also really nice for you to invite me into your home, Lucroy.”

Dusk was an extension of my home, so Peaches wasn’t wrong. Regardless, I longed to take him deep into the earth, into my living space. Vampires weren’t known for their altruistic ways. I wanted Peaches to myself. At the same time, I didn’t want to hoard him. Dragons hoarded. Vampires gloated. We paraded our prized possessions. Vampires enjoyed feeling like they had one-upped each other, that we had something coveted and craved, something no other could possess.

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