Page 10 of Purrfectly Peculiar Pixie

Leon’s lip twitched. His blacker-than-night eyes flicked over my hovering form. Part of me wished I knew what he was thinking. An even bigger part of me wasn’t sure I wanted to know. He’d already said I wastiny. Some might not see it as an insult. It wasn’t a compliment either. Why I wanted one of those from this ginger-haired vamp I had no idea.

“This way,” Leon said, sweeping an arm toward a set of stairs tucked behind the bar. “The apartment is on the second floor. It is recently vacated, and Johnny assures me is clean and ready for a new occupant.”

Leon led the way, and I flew behind him. I could have walked and if we were in the company of those who needed to breathe, then I would have. Most pixies preferred flying. We liked being off the ground, even if it was only by a couple of feet.

The stairs were a little steep, not that I minded given I flew and didn’t climb them. My position gave me an excellent view of Leon’s backside. He wore black, fitted jeans and a dark gray three-quarter length sleeve shirt. It was casual and immaculate all at the same time. Those jeans hugged a firm tush.

My cheeks heated and I shut down my lusty thoughts. Vamps and pixies didn’t really co-mingle. At least, that used to be true. As word circulated about Lucroy and Peaches bonding, that was slowly changing. I wasn’t sure if that was for the better or worse. The Magical Usage Council reached out to the Vampire Council. Thankfully, it appeared we were all on the same page regarding pixie safety. Nirgal was very clear on this. The ancient vampire did not want any pixies harmed in vampires’ quest for the sun. No one knew if Lucroy and Peaches were an isolated case or not. Did all pixie blood allow vampires to walk in the daylight? Was it just nature pixies? Did the pixie have to be the vampire’s beloved?

There were too many unknowns for anyone’s comfort. Time would tease the answers free, but until then, it was anyone’s guess. The lure of the sun was a powerful mistress and pixies were becoming increasingly concerned that it wouldn’t be only ogres we had to worry about.

The opening of a door pulled me from my inner thoughts, and I followed Leon into a small, but well-appointed one-bedroom apartment. A quick glance around confirmed my earlier thoughts. I’d definitely stayed in worse.

“There is a small galley kitchen with a two-burner stove, microwave, and refrigerator. Our last resident had little need for more than the fridge and microwave.”

“Who lived here last?” I casually asked while setting down my meager belongings.

“Wendall.”

I perked up. “Wendall Galen?”

Leon nodded. “He was a zombie then and his dietary needs were…sparse.”

I chuckled. “I’ll bet.”

“To my knowledge, Wendall was happy here and found the apartment agreeable. The bedroom is just through there and it has an attached bathroom. The apartment has its own thermostat. You may make the area as warm as you desire.”

Pixies did like being warm. More to the point, we liked not having to wear heavy clothing to protect us from the cold. Pixie skin was sensitive. I wasn’t sure if mine was as sensitive as typical pixies. I knew I didn’t get cold as easily and even preferred it over heat which wasn’t pixie-like at all. I got my cold affinity honestly from my mother and father.

“As Lucroy said, should you need anything, you have but to ask.”

“Thanks, Leon. This isn’t bad. I’m sure it will be more than adequate for the time I’ll use it.” How long that would be was anyone’s guess. Truth be told, no one even knew if using me as bait would work. As much as being captured scared the hell out of me, I also wanted it to happen. It needed to happen. This pixie trafficking ring needed to be shut down in the worst way and the ones in charge needed to be put down in the most egregious way possible. Most likely, I wouldn’t participate in that side of things. I wasn’t averse to bloodshed, but that didn’t mean I craved it either. I was, however, vindictive—something else pixies weren’t supposed to be.

Auntie Tandra said I got my vindictiveness from my father’s genes. She was probably right. I hadn’t known my mom either, but I’d heard enough stories to know that my mother, Perovskia, wasn’t the type to hold a grudge. According to Auntie Tandra, my mother was never upset with my father’s abandonment. In fact, she didn’t view it that way at all. It had been a fling, one that no one could have expected a child from. Some species mixed okay and offspring were expected. Pixies and shifters weren’t two species known for their genetic compatibility.

Some might call me a freak of nature. Auntie Tandra never made me feel that way. She’d claimed the opposite—that I was a fortuitous gift. She said my mother felt the same. I only had Auntie Tandra’s word on that, but I’d seen photos of my mother holding me in the few precious months we’d had together, and she looked happy enough. More than happy. I was probably prejudiced, but as Perovskia’s child, I had a right. My mother had been gorgeous and in pictures with the two of us together she radiated unmitigated joy.

Auntie Tandra was right. I’d been wanted. I’d been born with an abundance of love. Maybe my mom had a sixth sense that she wouldn’t be around and felt the need to shower me with as much of it as time allowed.

It was a silly notion. My mother hadn’t known she’d be captured by an addicted ogre. She hadn’t known she’d be placed in the hot sun, withering and fading faster than a typical captured pixie. My mother had been a rare nature pixie—one that thrived in the cold and wilted in the heat. My mother’s affinity for cold was how she’d met my father. The frigid Mongolian cold isn’t a place most pixies vacation. I doubt my father had ever seen a pixie up close and personal. According to Auntie Tandra, my father had been mesmerized.

I’d been ruminating, stuck in my head, and hadn’t realized Leon was just standing there, his blown pupils a black abyss of emotionlessness.

At some point I’d stopped flying and my bare feet comfortably rested on a soft rug. Shifting toward the couch, I cautiously asked, “Is there something else you need?”

Instead of verbally answering right away, Leon’s head tilted ever so slightly to the side. It was a barely-there movement, something I wouldn’t have noticed if I hadn’t been so observant.

Was he trying to intimidate me? My wings instinctively fluttered, scattering a fresh batch of dust. If that was his game, then he’d have to try a hell of a lot harder than that. This wasn’t my first vamp rodeo.

Building up a huff of steam, I was getting ready to lay a verbal smackdown on this vamp when he finally uttered, “You are a uniquely marked pixie.”

Was that another insult?My brain struggled. There was no tone to attach to the words. It was like getting a text without an emoji.

Deciding to go with the words themselves, I nodded and answered, “So I am.”

Leon blinked, his long, red lashes briefly covering his obsidian eyes. I waited for him to say more and was on the verge of kicking his vampire ass out of my new apartment when he walked toward the door, a casual “I like unique,” whispered past his lips.

Leon’s parting comment flushed my cheeks. I opened my mouth a couple of times, ready to say goddess only knows what at the now closed door, Leon well on his way down the stairs. In the end, the only sound that made it past my lips was the rattle of my teeth as my jaw tightly clamped shut.

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