Page 98 of Purrfectly Peculiar Pixie

Sedrick’s growl rumbled through his chest. “By pack law, Queen Silvidia should be the new alpha. She’s the one that finally killed that asshole.” We all knew it grated on Sedrick, that he’d been denied the honor of dispatching Arie Belview. “Regardless, somehow I’ve still been saddled with digging through the Belview pack trauma.”

“It’s not the Belview pack any longer,” Phil corrected. “It’s the Voss pack, and it’s Dillon and Ruthie’s legacy. You will make it a pack worthy of respect and of your niece and nephew.” Phil’s tender smile matched his gentle touch as his fingers raked along Sedrick’s beard. “Arie’s pack is so desperate for honorable leadership. You’re the perfect alpha for the job.”

I couldn’t have said it better. “The Magical Usage Council agrees and has offered whatever support they can give.” I wasn’t really certain what that was, but the offer had been made and I wanted to make sure it was relayed.

“Will you have time, with the mine as well?” Lucroy asked.

“I’ve spoken with Burt and Ollie. That land belongs to the dwarves as much as it does me. We’re still working out the details, but I’m planning on turning it over to them. They’ll have majority stock in the mine. I hired Ray to take care of the legal details.”

Lucroy smirked, barely short of showing fang. “And how is Hellfire faring now that he is back to doing menial legal work?”

“Damned if I know,” Sedrick answered while pulling at his beard. “Fairies are hard to read.”

“Not that hard,” Phil said. “Ray is happy, although I’m sure that has a lot more to do with Wendall than legal work.”

Johnny walked up, placing fresh glasses of honeysuckle mead, burnt rum, and a beer for Sedrick on the table. Leaning in, Johnny whispered, voice just high enough for all of us to hear. “Wendall told me that he and Ray agreed to officially share their bonds.” Johnny glanced over his shoulder. “Wendall was all kinds of embarrassed when he told me, but you know how that kid is. Don’t worry, I plan on pestering him. I’ll know when the deed’s done and when it is, I expect congratulations all around.” Johnny pointed a finger at each of us before trotting off.

“Well, I’ll be damned.” Vander grinned, wide and bright. “It’s about time.”

Leon’s fingers found mine, entwining together and squeezing tight. Bonds were important. Bonds of love. Bonds of friendship. Bonds of comradery. When I was assigned this mission, I never dreamed I’d find all three.

Glancing at Leon, there was no doubt where I belonged. My mate would never try and cage or change me. When the Magical Usage Council sent me on the next mission, he would be right there by my side. Johnny could run the bar without him, and Lucroy and Peaches agreed to open the orchard to Lucroy’s nestmates when they needed their king.

Leon was mine and I was his. We’d make Rutherford Haven home base, but it didn’t hem us in. Everyone needed a touchstone, a place where they felt welcome and safe. Rutherford Haven would be that for us. It would be the physical representation of the love we held for each other in our hearts.

Without giving it much thought, my clothes fell away as I transformed into my Pallas’s cat form. Crawling onto Leon’s lap, I dug my claws in and kneaded his pants. Purrs rumbled through the air and Leon’s slender fingers slipped into my thick fur. There was no place I’d rather be. No place that had ever felt safer. No place I’d ever felt so warm.

Leon was my mate, and I was his perfectly peculiar pixie beloved.

Epilogue

Erasmus

Some graveyards were more peaceful than others. On a scale of one to ten, with one being blissfully silent and ten being rave level ear piercing, I’d place Trinity’s Holy Cross Cemetery at a two. Soft murmurs of souls long gone filtered in and out of my brain like soft elevator music. Overall, their hums were content and distant with the passage of time. The dead were like that. The more time passed, the quieter they became. Only the truly pissed or wronged souls retained their loud tenor.

My witching hour walk would have been far more peaceful if I’d been alone. Unfortunately, I’d gained a rather unique shadow since visiting Rutherford Haven. I doubted anyone else could claim the willing company of a djinn.

“Your work is very morbid,” Aurelia stated flatly. There was no judgement. She was merely stating the facts as she saw them. Her words were a variation of similar statements she’d made over the past few weeks.

“To some,” I answered, mimicking my own familiar answer. I didn’t bother telling Aurelia that I wasn’t technically on a job. I’d finished that work earlier in another cemetery. That plot of land had been a level nine. It was loud and made my head pound. Many of the graves were less than a decade old and their inhabitants were not a content group.

While my paying job only entailed speaking with one particular soul, the others chattered away, vying for my attention. It had been difficult keeping them away long enough to concentrate on Antony Livingston.

I smirked at the memory. Mr. Livingston was a firecracker in life and death. He was none too pleased his grandchildren exhumed his body and even less happy they’d hired me to interrogate him.

Antony’s grandchildren were typical clients—greedy. Stocks, bonds, jewels, and cold hard cash weremissing,and they wanted to know what their grandfather did with it. I knew the answer as soon as I walked over his grave. Antony Livingston had literally taken his fortune with him to the grave. The end of his casket was packed with his wealth. I’d only needed to open the upper part of the casket to speak with him. His wealth was safely concealed at Antony’s feet.

I could have forced him to tell his grandchildren the truth. I didn’t. Instead, I’d first asked Antony why he’d hidden the valuables, not where. His soul could do nothing more than tell me the absolute truth, and that truth was coldly brutal. Some used wealth for good. Some squandered it. Some used that money to do nothing but sow evil. Antony Livingston’s grandchildren fell into that latter category.

After learning the truth, I’d laid Antony’s soul to rest, closed the casket, and walked away. I’d also returned the entirety of my retainer. I didn’t want a cent from Antony Livingston’s relatives. Threats, curses, and violent outbursts followed me out of that cemetery and drove me into the comforting arms of Trinity’s Holy Cross.

The cool comfort of an old graveyard was akin to taking a warm bubble bath. Tension eased and my muscles loosened. My brain quieted and my skin felt less prickly. With every step, I left a little more of my anxiety behind.

“Do you believe those men will follow through on their threats?” Aurelia asked, amping my anxiety back up a couple of notches.

I shrugged. “Not if they know what’s good for them. I already sent Pops a text. He’s making the appropriatenotifications.” It was handy having a powerful warlock in your back pocket. My warlock also happened to be my father, Nikodemus Holland.

“I see.” Again, there was no inflection, just quiet acceptance. I’d yet to figure out why Aurelia kept popping up in my world. I should feel threatened and yet I didn’t. If she’d wanted, Aurelia would have taken me out by now. She had reason to do just that. I was one of the few who knew the secret to her demise, and I was the only one who knew that had the power to act on that knowledge. It would take less than five minutes to return Aurelia’s soul to her body, eliminating all the magical manipulation that made her the powerful djinn she was.

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