Page 64 of Perfectly Charmed Pixie

When Ray asked me if I could think of any warlocks that would take the pixie commission, Lance’s name came to mind, but I’d dismissed him because I didn’t think he could complete it. I’d seen Lance’s work firsthand. It had gotten the job done, but the charm was the equivalent of a bull in a china shop. It left a mess in its wake.

Parsnip momentarily stiffened before he answered, “Not a peep. I’m not sure if that’s good or bad.”

“Time will tell.” It always did. “If he does make any more threats, you let me know, and I’ll follow through on my threat.” I had absolutely no reason not to.

“Thanks.” Parsnip sounded sincere, but he still carried a lot of tension in his shoulders.

Twisting his head this way and that, Parsnip’s neck popped loudly. When I glanced up, his gaze was trained on the crystal, but I didn’t think he saw its perfect lavender color. Eyebrows pinched and lips little more than a thin line, Parsnip definitely had something on his mind.

“Are you still worried about Lance?” I asked, setting down my work and focusing on my one and only.

“What? Oh.” Parsnip tilted his head. “No. I mean, yes, but that’s not what’s bothering me.”

“Care to share?”

Parsnip’s arms quivered, his fingers shaking enough that he dropped the stone. I caught it as it tried to take a nosedive to the floor.

“I’m sorry.” Parsnip jumped out of his chair, wings a blur of motion. “I didn’t mean to drop it. Did I ruin it?”

“You didn’t ruin a thing.” Twisting, I scooted out from under my workbench and patted my lap. “Come here and tell me what’s got you so upset.”

Parsnip eyed my thighs. I thought he’d decline, but instead, he flew toward me, slamming into my chest hard enough that I’d never been so glad for the back of my chair. Nestling in, Parsnip wrapped his legs around my waist, desperately clinging to me.

“Hey.” I rubbed his back, trying to soothe him. “What’s wrong?” I hated the hummingbird rhythm of his heart, the constant quiver in his limbs, and the way his fingers dug into my shirt.

Wiggling, Parsnip managed to nuzzle his face into the crook of my neck. His breath warmed my skin.

Seconds slipped into minutes until, finally, his heart slowed and the shivering stopped. I thought I’d have to prompt him again, but Parsnip softly said, “I got a call from Parsley.”

“Is your brother okay?” Fresh waves of worry filled me.

“Parse is fine. He…he had some information about a newly rescued pixie. They think there’s a new pixie trafficking ring in operation.”

The vice squeezing my chest clamped down harder. My arms tightened too. “Tell me about it.”

Parsnip did, or, at least, he told me what was known, which wasn’t as much as I’d hoped. I wished the story ended with the capture of the ringmasters, but it didn’t. I sat there, holding Parsnip as he let it all out. His words were heavy, and I knew they fueled the fear constantly inside him.

“I can’t believe other species would do something like this.” Parsnip sounded forlorn and maybe a little lost. “Why? I mean, as much as I claim otherwise, at least I understand why ogres would do it. It’s a disease, a drug many can’t overcome. But that’s not what’s going on with other species.”

“Greed,” I grumbled. “Greed is a drug all its own.”

A violent shudder rolled through Parsnip. “Peaches and Phil came over to the house last night.”

I wasn’t sure where the change in topic had come from and silently rolled with it.

“I look at them, so full of love and happiness. They’re lucky they don’t know what it’s like—being held captive. Fading. I won’t lie and tell you I’m not jealous of that fact, but more than that, I fear for them. All pixies are in danger. I don’t think… If something like that happens again, there’s no way I’d last another six months. I wouldn’t be able to hang in there. I…” Parsnip’s voice trailed off into incoherent babbling.

With overwhelming effort, I pushed down the instant rage. The mere thought of Parsnip held somewhere against his will… It was nearly too much. But my one and only didn’t need blind anger. He needed stability and reassurance.

Slipping my hand up Parsnip’s leg, a fresh shiver wracked his body, and I could only hope this one was due to the feel of my flesh. When I reached my goal, I let my large palm settle over the charm resting below.

“Listen to me, Parsnip. This”—I pressed down on the charm—“is a guarantee that you will never be alone. No one can ever take you somewhere I can’t find you. I’m connected to the charm, and as long as you have it, then I will come for you. I don’t care how many ogres or other species stand between us. I will not allow you to be kept again. Do you understand?”

Quick, harsh breaths of puffed, warm air hit my damp skin. Raising his leg, Parsnip pressed into me, rubbing against my hand and thigh. “Promise?”

“Promise. Now and always.”

Parsnip’s hand snuck its way up my chest, the soft pads of his fingers resting against my neck as he asked, “Why? Why do you care? Why would you make that kind of promise? You hardly know me. You—”

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