Page 3 of Perfectly Charmed Pixie

Sprites!my brain screamed as panic set in.

“I wondered how long it would take them to realize we had visitors. And another pixie at that.” Peaches didn’t sound alarmed at all.

What in the hell was wrong with him?

My feet thudded on the ground, wings dropping and pulling in tight. I took two, maybe five, steps back. I couldn’t imagine the horror visibly written across my face. My eyes felt impossibly, painfully wide.

“S-sprites,” I stuttered. “You didn’t tell me there were sprites. I—” I had no idea what to say.

It took every bit of control I had to keep my wings pinned to my back. Instinct told me to fly away, to zoom out of Peaches’s orchard and back into the car. I could slam the door shut, locking out these little pixie dust thieves.

I couldn’t stand the idea of anything cannibalizing my pixie dust. I’d had enough stolen already. And that didn’t even begin to touch the knowledge that my dust might taste different now. It was magically enhanced to change its color. Would the sprites be able to tell? Would they immediately know something about me was wrong?

High-pitched clicks and squeaks slammed into my brain, making me cringe. By the look on Divia’s face, I wasn’t the only one. Mike just stood there, eyes wide and sparkling with childlike joy. I never thought I’d be jealous of a human. I was wrong.

“Holy shit, that’s amazing.” Mike’s words echoed the wonder-like gaze lighting up his face.

“That’s one word for it,” Peaches answered, tone soft as he held out his hand and two sprites landed on his palm. “They’ve been a great addition to the orchard, but sometimes they can be a little mischievous and invasive.” Peaches tilted his head, eyelids narrowed. “Now, don’t give me that. You know I’m right.”

Was he talking to them? How in the goddess’s name could he understand a word they said?

“How…?” I started, unsure how to end.

Lucroy tapped his ear and answered, “Translator. Witch-made. Peaches can understand what they are saying.”

I sucked in a breath, tasting the fresh, crisp air on my tongue.

“They want to know if they can taste your dust,” Peaches said, tone apologetic. “They live here, and I don’t mind if they eat mine, but I—”

“No.” The word was out of my mouth before I could think of a kinder way to phrase it. “Absolutely not,” I followed up, unable to hold in my fear. Turning on Divia, I stabbed a finger into her chest. “You didn’t say anything about sprites.” The words hissed through my barely parted teeth.

“I didn’t know,” Divia answered calmly. “They seem perfectly harmless though. I fail to see what the issue is, Parsnip.”

She failed to see?“That’s because you’re a damn siren and don’t produce pixie dust. They couldn’t care less about you.” Anxiety raised my voice, pitching it higher.

The sprites clattered, their sounds driving a stake into my brain.

“Hush,” Peaches said, talking to the sprites in his hand and surrounding us. “He doesn’t want you to taste his dust, and that’s the final word. You know the rules.”

The whizzing lights dimmed before they flew away, their flight path much slower than when they’d arrived.

“I’m sorry about that,” Peaches apologized immediately. “I should have thought to mention them, knowing you’re a pixie. I’ve just become so accustomed to them, and they don’t really cause any harm. If anything, it’s the opposite. The orchard has greatly benefited from having them here.”

Creaking limbs broke through the evening air. The crack of branches as they reached out for Peaches clear to every ear, even Mike’s.

Holding out his arms, palms up, Peaches flew a few feet off the ground, head thrown back. “They love the sprites,” Peaches hummed, sounding a little drunk. “My trees are happy to have them here, to provide shelter and protection.”

Mike’s sense of awe transferred to Peaches, and I couldn’t even blame him. There was nothing like a pixie in their natural, bonded environment. It was a thing of wonder. The next time I glanced in his direction, Mike had the presence of mind to lift up his camera and start filming. I didn’t think the pictures would do Peaches justice.

Clearing my throat, I pasted on my best smile. This one far faker than when I’d first arrived. “It’s okay. I’m sorry if I overreacted.” My heart still hammered. It would be a long time before I got over the jolt of anxiety wildly thrumming through my veins. “It was just a surprise, that’s all. As long as they respect my boundaries, then it’s fine.”

It wasn’t fine. It was about as far from fine as you could get, but I had a job to do, and I was a professional. I’d spent the last six years getting over my trauma, and damn it, I wouldn’t let my past derail my future.

Lowering back to the ground, Peaches immediately went to Lucroy. It was like they were attached by an invisible tether. Maybe they were. I had no idea how beloveds worked.

“If you wish to get out of our contract, I believe Peaches and I would both understand.” Lucroy’s practical, nonplussed tone soothed some of my anxiety.

Divia shot me a look, one that said I’d better get my shit under control, or else I’d be in for it later. It was the kind of look that demanded you suck it up and go along. At my slight nod, the creases around Divia’s lips eased.

---