Page 29 of Perfectly Petite Shorts
Byx’s hair was a darker shade than mine, and I brushed herbangs from her face, tucking her hair behind a slightly tipped ear. “Is that why you transported to him?”
My daughter shrugged as if the answer wasn’t important. At her age, it wasn’t. Or, more to the point, she didn’t understand the importance. Brownies pulsed with magic, and we often found ourselves at its mercy. Magic often led us into unfamiliar territory. Brownies were often left scratching our heads, wondering why we’d done something or made a particular decision. At the end of the day, we didn’t question it. As long as we listened, the magic never steered us wrong. Ignoring the magic was what got us into trouble.
Leaning down, I pressed my lips against Byx’s forehead. “Sleep well, sweetie.”
“Night, Momma,” Byx whispered.
My heart ached as I stared at my little girl. I’d seen my future and knew I wouldn’t live long enough to see Byx grown. I wouldn’t be there to help guide her and keep Byx safe. There was time yet. Of that I was certain. I’d held Vander’s fingers within my own, and they’d barely begun to darken. The warlock sitting at my deathbed had darker-tipped fingers. Vander was older then. How much older, I wasn’t certain.
Byx’s breathing evened out as she succumbed to slumber. She’d be hungry when she woke. Giving magic away always came with a price. Thankfully, that price was typically paid in rest and food.
Pushing up from Byx’s bed, I gave my daughter one final glance before heading back into the living room. I wasn’t meant to be by Byx’s side, but the warlock taking up my couch was. It was time to learn more about my guest.
Vander was where I left him, appearing just as awkward and ill at ease as before. Legs bent and knees nearly to his chest, Vander looked ridiculous with his arms splayed out across his legs and clasped hands scrunched against his chest.
He hadn’t noticed I’d returned, and I took the opportunity to examine him a bit closer. Vander was so young. He barely had a hint of white at his temples and only a single charmed ring adorned his fingers. How on earth a warlock this young and inexperienced was out on his own was beyond me.
I rounded the couch, coming into Vander’s visual zone. His small flinch let me know I’d surprised him. It also revealed he wasn’t nearly as at ease as I wanted him to be. “You’ll come to no harm while under my roof,” I promised.
Eyes narrowing, Vander studied me before giving a faint headshake. “You shouldn’t make promises you can’t keep.”
I bristled. “Are you questioning my word?” Brownies did not make promises lightly.
“No,” Vander hastened to appease me. “No, that’s not what I meant.”
“Then what did you mean?”
Vander’s fingers nervously carded through his dark hair. “You don’t know who I am. If you did, then you’d never make such a promise.” He swallowed hard enough for his Adam’s apple to bob. “I won’t hold you to your promise.”
More curious than offended, I asked, “Who, exactly, are you?” Obviously, he was a warlock. A very young and inadequate warlock if the state I’d found him in was any indication.
Vander let out a mirthless bark of laughter. Slapping a hand over his mouth, his head turned toward the hall leading to Byx’s room. “Fuck. I hope I didn’t wake her.”
I waved him off. “Byx exerted a lot of magic today. Trust me, it will take more than a loud noise to wake her.”
Vander was obviously relieved. “I’m glad to hear that. Not that she’s exhausted because she helped me. Just that—”
“I know what you meant. Now, I would like to know why you believe I will be upset upon finding out who you are.”
Eyes downcast, Vander stared at hisnearly ringless fingers. “You seem to know my first name, but not my last. It’s Kines. My father was Viktor Kines.”
I sucked in a breath. “Viktor Kines.” I wanted to make certain I’d heard correctly. Vander’s rounded shoulders and quick nod was conformation. “I see.” My lips pursed as my mind turned that new bit of knowledge over. While I’d never met the warlock personally, Viktor Kines’s reputation was well known, as was his manner of death. Brownies did not take kindly to being cheated and double-crossed.
Vander’s body was still. His chest rose and fell with effort and his skin was pallid. Closing the distance between us, I hopped up on the couch, sitting next to him. We had to have looked comical, and yet I couldn’t find it in me to care.
Slowly reaching across the small gap between our bodies, I allowed my fingers to lightly rest on his forearm. Vander flinched but didn’t pull away. Inhaling deeply, I said, “You are not your father.”
Vander let loose another bark of laughter, this one darker than the one before. “I’m exactly like my father. You know why Maxine beat the shit out of me?” Vander’s dark eyes sparkled with unshed tears and malicious, self-degrading pain. “Because I cheated at cards. I might as well have stolen from her.” Head hanging again, he shook so hard the couch vibrated. “I was so fucking desperate that I walked into The Dancing Pixie with the intention of cheating my way to a fast payday.”
My fingers tightened on his skin. “You said you were desperate?”
Vander blew out a deep breath. “The reasons don’t matter. Only my actions.”
It was my turn to grunt. “While that sounds exceedingly noble, it is also a load of bullshit.”
Vander’s head snapped up, his eyes momentarily wide.
“Oh, don’t look at me like that.” I chuckled. “Brownies curse too. Sometimes, the occasion calls for it.”
