Page 39 of Purrfectly Peculiar Pixie

“No.”

“I’ll be back soon,” I reassured before flying off to my room. I quickly grabbed my phone and a premade sandwich from the fridge. A bottle of water finished off my hasty meal and I made quick work of getting back downstairs to Lucroy. He was in the same position I’d left him, heavily leaning against the bar.

“All ready,” I assured, holding up my sandwich, water, and phone as proof.

“Excellent.” Leon walked toward the reinforced double doors. His gait was steady but more languid than I was used to witnessing. While he could be awake at this time, it didn’t look pleasant or comfortable.

The doors swung open, and Leon headed down the stairs first. The chilled air hit me, and I relaxed into the feel.

“I can turn the heat up if you’d like,” Leon assured. “Lucroy made certain the heating system is in good working order since joining with his beloved.”

“It’s fine,” I reassured. “I like the cold.”

Leon turned, a half grin lifting his lip. “Not a typical pixie, are you?”

I laughed. “Not even a little.”

ChapterFourteen

Leon

I woke with a thirst that was difficult to control. It was tempered by the warm body snuggled up at my side.

Phlox. Phlox was beside me. He’d followed me downstairs and stayed the day. In the quiet space I could hear the rush of his blood as it flowed through his arteries and veins. Phlox’s heart rate was steady and languid. Unless one were in the throes of a nightmare, sleep often did that.

My fangs itched, desperate to drink from the delicious fountain lying beside me. Were I a younger vampire, I might have succumbed to that desire. I don’t know if it was my age or my greater desire to protect Phlox, even against my baser needs, that stayed my instincts.

Nuzzled into the crook of my arm, Phlox’s cheek pressed against my upper chest, the crown of his head tucked into my neck. His wings were spread out behind him and fluttered every once in a great while. One arm was stretched across my chest. My cold, unconscious form hadn’t bothered him a bit. That knowledge eased my mind.

Phlox’s long hair lay across my arm, its silken feel wonderous. My fingers curled into those strands, allowing them to dance and skitter as they slipped through. Perhaps it was the flex of my fingers or maybe it was simply time for Phlox to wake because not long after, he stirred.

Stretching like a cat, Phlox snuggled in closer. Licking his lips, he sighed and whispered, “Good evening. Sleep well?”

“Like the undead.”

Phlox lightly smacked me on my abs before stretching again and rolling back. He couldn’t complete the motion without sitting up and readjusting his wings.

“How about you? Did you sleep well?”

“Mm-hmm. Like a baby.” Phlox yawned. His wings fluttered. It seemed more instinct, or perhaps that was his own way of stretching his wing muscles. Turning, Phlox slipped his legs over the edge before pushing off the mattress. He stretched which made me wonder if it had more to do with his Pallas’s cat side than pixie.

Cracking his back, Phlox loosened a grateful sigh that went straight to my dick. He was a vision. If I could wake to this every evening for an eternity, it still would not be enough time. How had I lived without this? Had it even been living? At the time, I’d thought so. I’d enjoyed much of my second life. Now, looking back and not seeing Phlox there, I realized thatlivingwas an overestimation of what I’d been doing. Existing now seemed more apt.

Phlox shuffled across the room. His wings twittered now and again but not enough to lift him off the ground.

“Do you keep blood in here or do we need to head upstairs for that?” Phlox didn’t wait for an answer before he pulled the refrigerator door open and let out a happy sound. “Ah-ha! Found it.” Phlox pulled out a chilled bottle that once would have been appealing. Now, thoughts of drinking its contents curdled my borrowed blood and made my stomach cramp.

“Do you like it heated up?” Phlox questioned innocently while looking around the small kitchen. “I see you’ve got a microwave and there are some cups in the drying rack.” He grabbed one and set it upright on the counter.

I lay there fighting my nausea. “It is of no importance. I am not currently hungry,” I blatantly lied.

Phlox turned, the bottle neck grasped within one hand. “Not hungry?” He glanced at the bottle then back at me, his eyes narrowed, and nose scrunched in confusion. “Vampires are always hungry when they wake up and you can’t tell me what you took from me yesterday was enough to last through today. Especially when you needed extra energy to heal the wounds from the sun.”

“Regardless, I am not currently hungry.” I sat up, forcing my legs over the mattress edge but not standing. “Although, I would imagine you are. I will let you out and so you can—”

“Stop.” Phlox held up a hand before setting the bottle down on the counter with a loud thud. Fisting that hand and settling it on his hip, Phlox’s wings sprang to life, lifting him off the floor. His bare toes dangled. His toenails were a deep, dark blue with a halo of ochre at their tips.

I swallowed, my throat dry. Phlox’s heart rate sped up, and his blood gushed through his body, loud and tempting.

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