Page 26 of Perfectly Charmed Pixie

Although I was still a little fuzzy on the details, I answered confidently, “Most likely. The magic won’t be exactly the same, but I haven’t run across much yet that I wasn’t able to do. I need to get a better look at the used charm you brought with you. I’d also like to see the active one.”

Trying to keep my libido under wraps, I took a more professional perusal of Parsnip’s body. Pixies didn’t exactly dress with modesty in mind. Regardless, I didn’t see a charm anywhere.

“It’s hidden,” Parsnip answered my unasked question. “There was an…incident with a witch.” Parsnip stiffened, and his leg started shaking—tapping out an intermittent rhythm. “That incident has had continuing consequences. It is an unfortunate, ongoing issue. I learned to hide it after that. I’ll let you see it, but I’m not taking it off unless absolutely necessary.” Lifting the fabric of his pants, Parsnip pulled the silky, cream fabric up…and up, exposing a shapely calf and thigh.

My throat went dry, making me wish I’d accepted Parsnip’s earlier offer of water. Shifting so he could cock his right thigh out, Parsnip twisted a little so I could get a better look.

“Mind if I…” I waved at the charm.

“Go ahead. I’ll hold still.”

Sliding off the couch, I went to my knees, bent over Parsnip’s outstretched leg. Sweet Gaia, he smelled fantastic. It was a soothing blend that wafted over and through me. My larger hands looked brutish compared to his delicate petiteness. The black tips of my fingers and nails stood out harshly against his cream-colored skin.

Focus Van, I internally scolded. I was a professional and needed to pay attention to what I was looking at. With effort, I managed to push back my emotions, allowing my warlock instincts to the fore. With the barest touch, I could feel the magical signature pulsing within the charm. It was foreign magic, something that didn’t belong, something that made me want to rip the thing from Parsnip’s body. But mixed with that repugnant signature was Parsnip’s life force. It was such a tiny aspect of the magic, and yet, it was the beating heart of it. Without that life force, the charm would be a useless hunk of rock and metal.

It was an intricate piece of work. My professional side could appreciate that. I could also appreciate the flaws. It wasn’t perfect. Few magical charms were. Witches and warlocks twisted magic to suit our needs or the needs of our customers. Gaia allowed it, but our work rarely matched hers and absolutely never exceeded it.

“Well?” Parsnip asked, breath a little raspy. “What do you think?”

Half of me was reluctant to pull away. I wasn’t certain when I’d get another opportunity to be this close to Parsnip again. The other half of me was relieved. The magic felt so wrong nestled against his skin.

Sitting back on my haunches, I lowered my eyelids, focusing on the strains of magic pulsing through Parsnip’s charm. I could tease out the individual threads, reading their code and what they imbued. What I came away with surprised me.

“Color,” I whispered, torn between awe and utter confusion. “It’s a color obfuscation. Why?” I couldn’t figure out why a pixie’s color would be worth giving up this much of their life force for. “Did you not like being…whatever color you were before?”

Parsnip snatched his leg back, covering it and hiding his flesh from my hungry gaze. “Iamthe color I was before,” he snapped, voice full of anger and grief.

“You’re…what?”

I didn’t know what to make of it. I’d never heard of a pixie spontaneously changing colors. Not without chemical aid or some other form of magic. Products were available, marketed as enhancements for pixie’s naturally colorful hues. Most added a little sparkle or glow under the special lighting at pixie clubs and bars.

Parsnip huffed and then hopped off his seat, flying back and forth and filling the air with dust.

Rising, I stood in front of the couch, watching his movements, my eyes flicking back and forth as if I were watching a tennis match.

“The details don’t matter,” he stated. “It’s not something I want to talk about. Lance didn’t need to know, and neither do you.” Parsnip certainly had a defensive side, and the power button was clear as day.

Silently contemplating Parsnip’s anger, I tasted another emotion fueling it—fear. That realization punched a hole in my gut. Parsnip was afraid. I wasn’t sure if he was afraid of what would happen if his secret got out or if it was a fear rooted in the cause of his changed color. Maybe it was a little of both, or perhaps that latter spurred the former. Whatever the reason, I didn’t like it. Parsnip shouldn’t be afraid. Maybe he didn’t know it yet, and maybe I wasn’t fully on board with the idea, but Parsnip was mine. Gaia knew I had a lot of flaws, but one thing I did was protect what was mine. Georgiana knew that. Maybe that was the reason she left Byx with me.

I wanted to force the information out of Parsnip. I wanted to reach into his brain and compel him to spill all the secrets he was hiding. I didn’t want to do it for malicious reasons. I wanted to know so I could figure out how to make that fear go away. I wanted to be able to protect him from further harm.

And I could do it. I had the knowledge and the skill. But that kind of magic left a mark, and the process was painful. There was no way I could do that. Not to Parsnip. Not to my one and only. I’d have to wait. I’d have to be patient. Georgiana would laugh her ass off at the thought.

Pinching the bridge of my nose, I inhaled deeply and counted to ten. It didn’t escape me that, once again, my nose didn’t so much as twitch. I’d wondered before if it was part of his charm. Now I knew differently. There wasn’t a hint of magic in that charm that would change Parsnip’s dust into something less nasally noxious.

It was another bit of unnecessary proof that the pacing pixie was my one and only.

“All right,” I finally said, halting Parsnip’s flight path.

“All right? Just like that?” He stood, or, well, hovered, above the ground, fists planted on his hips, looking like a strange version of Peter Pan.

I decided to amend my comment and added, “For now.”

Parsnip’s mouth opened, and his cheeks flushed.

I ended the tirade before it began. “Take it for what it is. I’m agreeing to help. I can make the charm you need, and I can do a better job of it than this Lance warlock you’ve used in the past.” Lance’s name sounded toxic on my tongue. “And, I won’t ask a lot of questions. Not right now.” Decreasing the distance between us, I cupped Parsnip’s chin. It was fast becoming a favorite move. “One day, you’re going to tell me. One day, you will trust me enough to share your pain with me. I know that day isn’t today. There’s no reason it should be. But I promise you, I won’t betray your secrets. You’re safe with me, Parsnip.”

The temptation to lean in and kiss those plump, pink lips was nearly too much, especially when Parsnip’s tongue darted out, wetting their surface and making them glisten. Something told me the move wasn’t intentional. For all his gruff posturing, in some ways, Parsnip struck me as a naïve innocent. I didn’t detect malevolent intent, and none of the charms I wore did either.

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