Page 35 of Perfectly Perfect Pixie

Peaches met me outside his cottage. The weather was cool, bordering on cold. Vampires cared little for the outside temperature. Our bodies registered it, but only as a vague bit of knowledge.

Peaches was different. His body was still very much alive and very much affected by the coolness. Wings thrumming, Peaches hovered above the ground. A lavender-colored pair of pixie boots covered his feet. Golden-hued, loose-fitted pants covered him to his shoes. A lavender-colored shawl was draped around his shoulders, the fabric falling between his beating wings.

“Lucroy?” Peaches questioned when I stepped out of my vehicle. The crunch of light gravel sounded beneath my footfalls. “Is something wrong?” Peaches worried his bottom lip, plumping it.

The closer I got, the more heavenly Peaches smelled. I’d drank my fill of ogre-tinged human blood tonight. I didn’tneedto feed. Want was a completely different matter.

“Good evening, Peaches. Please don’t worry. Everything is fine.” That wasn’t completely true, but many of my concerns weren’t Peaches’s, and I had no desire to weigh him down with my worries.

“Oh.” Relief flooded Peaches’s face. “I’m glad. When I felt you pass through the barrier, I was concerned something had happened. I called earlier, and Johnny said you weren’t available. He said he’d leave a message, but I expected a phone call, not a personal visit.”

Johnny had made sure I’d gotten Peaches’s message. I would have contacted him tonight, regardless. I was still pleased he’d been the one to reach out first.

“I wanted to see you, not just hear your voice. Is that all right?” I dearly hoped last night’s amorous attention hadn’t been completely alcohol-fueled.

“It’s fine.” Peaches blushed. Bright white lights could be seen dashing here and there deep in the darkness. A few sprites zipped past Peaches, doing the equivalent drive-by dining. I doubted Peaches even noticed.

“It looks like the sprites are working out well.”

“They are,” Peaches eagerly answered. “They’ve cleared nearly all the aphids, and the trees are already recovering. I can feel their relief, and they really like the sprites. Honestly, I think we’ve had it wrong for a long time. I think sprites might be more important for forest health than we thought. My orchard may not be a forest per se, but it’s close enough and really benefiting from the sprite’s attention.”

Peaches always spoke with passion when it involved his land or his orchard. “That is good to hear. Alpha Voss was concerned with your choice. Or perhaps, he was more concerned that he was not consulted, or perhaps, involved.”

Huffing, Peaches crossed his arms. “I didn’t want to worry him or Phil.”

I took a step closer. Taking a chance, I carded my fingers through Peaches’s hair. A slight breeze lifted his long strands, dancing them around his waist. Peaches didn’t lean into my touch like he did last night, but he didn’t pull away either. If anything, he looked confused. Perhaps flustered.

“Sedrick is an alpha, Peaches. And he’s not just any alpha werewolf. He’s an alpha who views you as part of his pack. You could do much worse in life than having an alpha like Sedrick Voss claim you as family.”

Head tilted down, Peaches finally leaned into my touch. “I know, but like I said, I didn’t want to worry them.”

“I understand, and I was happy to help. However, it might be wise to remember what Sedrick is in the future. I believe you injured his alpha werewolf pride.”

Werewolf politics were only slightly less messy than vampire ones. As a general rule, the werewolf hierarchy was less deceitful than the vampire equivalent. Most saw alpha challenges as barbaric, but I disagreed. They were more to the point, and, in the end, there were fewer casualties than in vampire power plays.

“Okay.” Peaches’s voice was soft, barely a whisper carried by the wind.

I wanted to stay like that, to capture the moment and hold it in my hands like I held Peaches’s cheek. But time cared little for my wishes.

A sprite swooped in, grabbed a piece of dust, and careened into my hand. It was barely a love tap but disturbed the moment long enough that Peaches pulled away. I dropped my hand, shoving both into my pants pockets.

Peaches giggled, righting the startled sprite before it zipped back into the orchard.

“I wondered if you might have a few minutes to talk. Tonight.” I glanced behind Peaches, toward his cottage. It appeared just as quaint as I remembered.

“Of course.” Peaches’s wings stopped, and his feet hit the ground. “We should probably go inside. The sprites seem a little ornery tonight, and that would give us a bit more, uh . . . privacy.” Peaches rubbed the back of his neck, pulling my attention toward the fragile skin. I could hear the rush of blood through his body, the pounding of his heart, and his quick, shallow breaths.

“Please, lead the way.” I followed, watching the rapid-fire beat of golden wings, a light haze of sparkling dust left in their wake as Peaches flew toward the cottage.

The inside was just as charming as the outside. There was a small fireplace, a low, nearly banked flame within that warmed the space. A small kitchenette lined the side, and on the other was a door I thought led to a bathroom. A loft overlooked the living area, and although I couldn’t see it, I thought it was Peaches’s bedroom.

Like he’d said, the cottage was small, but it didn’t need to be larger, not for a nature pixie that spent just as much time outdoors as in.

“Would you like to sit? I’d offer you something to drink, but I don’t really have any . . .” Peaches fluttered his hands toward the kitchen, and I knew the implications.

“Thank you, but I ate well before heading over.” I chose the only chair that had a back. It was another aspect of pixie homelife that was different. Peaches’s chairs were more like well-appointed stools. Peaches chose a blue floral one and sat across from me.

“I’m sorry. About last night.” Peaches’s eyes twitched here and there, his gaze going anywhere but meeting mine. “I can’t remember the last time I had honeysuckle mead, and it tasted so good. Johnny’s cousin really is a master. I’m afraid I drank a little too much and said and did some things last night that might have been a little . . . forward.”

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