“Of course.”
I could visualize Parsley waving his hands in the air as if my thanks were ridiculous.
“You know, I didn’t even hesitate when I told Pom you’d be willing to take Petunia in.”
“No reason you should have. My home is always open.”
I grinned, and my chest loosened a little. There was something peaceful knowing you could count on a facet of life. Parsley was that constant.
We talked for fifteen, maybe twenty more minutes. I gushed about Vander’s charm and how great it was. I was glad I could honestly tell my brother how good this charm felt. Parsley sounded relieved.
I couldn’t bring myself to let him in on Lance’s threats. Because of that, I didn’t tell him about Vander’s counterthreat. I still couldn’t believe he’d done that.
By the time I ended the call with Parsley, I was a mixed bag of emotions. On the one hand, talking with my brother almost always eased my mind and soul. On the other, the idea that another pixie trafficking ring had started, and it was being run by species that weren’t ogres, scared the shit out of me.
I stayed there, lying on the hard floor, my wings stretched out behind me. I wasn’t sure how long I lay there, or would have continued lying there, but my ringing doorbell pulled me from my impromptu lounging spot.
Unsure who it was, I hoped it was Vander and also knew I’d be disappointed when I looked through the peephole and he wasn’t there.
I was disappointed. I was also curiously perplexed when a sheen of pink and gold pixie dust clouded my stoop. A shot of grass-green eyes peeked back at me.
“Parsnip? Are you home?” Another knock sounded on the door.
“You’ve got to do it harder,” Peaches said. “Like this.” A heavier pounding sounded.
“I didn’t want to be rude.” That was Phil.
“It’s not rude. It’s knocking,” Peaches argued.
Warm humor lit me up from within. Still confused, I opened the door, just a crack, and peered out at my visitors.
“Surprise!” Peaches shouted, wings fluttering and pulling him to eye level with Phil. “Divia said you weren’t feeling great, so Phil and I thought we’d stop by and cheer you up. Don’t worry. I didn’t bring any of the sprites along. Although they wanted to come and were very disappointed.” A large, honestly concerned grin lit up Peaches’s face.
Phil was more sober. “If we’re bothering you and you’d rather be alone, just say the word and—”
Peaches shouldered past the larger pixie. “He’s a social pixie, Phil. Of course he wants company.”
I stood there, door open, while I was joined by Peaches and Phil. With my lips parted, I stared as they took over my house.
“I brought apple cider. It’s the best, and I’m not just saying that because it came from my trees,” Peaches boasted.
“Yes you are,” Phil teased. “But in Peaches’s defense, it is the best cider.”
“It most definitely is.” Peaches twirled, gaze scanning the room as if he’d lost something. “Phil, where are the kids? I thought they were right behind us. They—”
“We’re here.”
I flew off to the side as a young werewolf male strode in, followed by a younger female.
“Hey, you Parsnip?” The young male held out his hand. “I’m Dillon, and this is my sister, Ruthie.”
Dillon was only a little shorter than me, so I didn’t really have to lean down to shake his hand. Ruthie was a little smaller.
“Cool place,” Dillon announced. “Not as cool as our home but—”
“Dillon! That’s not polite,” Phil scolded, his cheeks flushed pink.
“But it’s not,” Dillon protested. “No house is as cool as ours. Right, Ruthie?”