Page 28 of Perfectly Petite Shorts
My brain clicked into gear. “How do you—”
“How do I know your name?” Her laughter was soft and warmed more than my skin. “It’s a long story. How about we fix your eyes so you can see me properly?”
I wasn’t about to argue. Similar warmth spread across my face, decreasing the swelling. Blinking, I found myself staring into deep brown eyes sitting in a lighter brown face. I wasright. She was a brownie. Brownies were named that for a reason. It wasn’t a terribly creative reason, but it was what it was, and I’d never once heard them complain. All brownies were similar. While they were different shades of brown, all wore that color in the most spectacular of ways.
As soon as I could see her properly, I said, “I told her to stop. Honest to Gaia, I’m not ever sure where she came from. I just woke up, and Byx was there, her hand on my chest and—”
“Hush.” She placed a finger on my no longer cracked and busted lips. “I know what she did, and I know what you tried to do. I’m Georgiana, by the way.”
“Vander,” I answered. “But I guess you somehow already know that.”
“I do.” Her smile was soft and warm, but there was a hint of sadness I didn’t understand. “It’s nice to finally meet you. Although, I’ll admit, this wasn’t how I expected it to happen.” My face must have expressed my inner confusion because Georgiana simply smiled wider and reached for my hands. “Here, let me take care of that too.”
Heat swarmed around my fingers, the bones mending, taking their broken pain with them. Inhaling, I stared at my functioning fingers and frowned. “Maxine will be very disappointed when she sees me up and moving so soon.”
Georgiana’s head cocked to the side. “I assume this Maxine was the one who laid you on your ass.”
“You assume correctly. And, just to be clear, Maxine is a big-ass troll.” Pride was a damnable thing, and for some reason, I didn’t want this brownie to think I couldn’t take care of myself.
With a roll of her large brown eyes, Georgiana replied, “All trolls are big. They’re born big. Come on, Vander.” She stood and held out her diminutive hand.
I hesitated taking it. “I can’t pay you.” I licked my dry lips. “I should have told you that before you healed me. That’s onme, but I don’t care how much you squeeze me, I don’t have shit to offer.”
“I don’t remember asking for payment.”
“I—” My mouth opened and slammed closed. “Nothing’s free.” That was one of the firstlessonsmy dad had taught me.
Georgiana shrugged. “I wouldn’t necessarily agree with that. Payment can be seen in many different ways. Money is only one option.”
I scoffed. “It’s the only one anyone I’ve known has ever been interested in.”
“Then I’d say you haven’t been hanging out with the right individuals.”
My scoff turned into a chuckle. “Yeah. I think that’s fair to say.”
She offered her hand again. “Then come with me, and let’s see if we can introduce you to a different atmosphere.” When I didn’t immediately reach for her hand, Georgiana glanced around the alleyway, her little nose scrunched in distaste. “What do you have to lose?”
What indeed?Nothing. Abso-fucking-lutely nothing at all. I finally grasped her hand. Georgiana’s fingers looked delicate within my larger hand. It was deceiving. That tiny hand held more magic than I’d ever be able to conjure. Brownies were like that. They buzzed with the stuff. It was a heady feeling, touching her skin.
I was surprised how steady I felt when I got my feet under me and stood. Carefully pushing away from the brick wall that I’d called home for the last Gaia only knew hours, I followed Georgiana out of the alley and into the waning sunlight.
“So, where are we going?” I asked while stuffing my hands into my pants pockets. The concerned glances we garnered as we wandered down the street had nothing to do with our sizedifferences and everything to do with the dried blood on my shirt and the tears in its fabric.
“Home,” Georgiana answered. “We’re going home, Vander.”
Georgiana
My guest looked lost. Vander’s dark eyes peered into every corner as if he expected something sinister to jump out at any moment.
“Make yourself comfortable while I put Byx to bed.” While my daughter was still young and small, holding her within my arms was becoming increasingly difficult. Byx hadn’t drained too much of her magic while healing Vander, but she’d definitely tired herself out. Between her first transportation and mending flesh and bone, Byx was beat.
Vander’s eyebrows shot skyward. “I can just go.” Thumbing his hand toward the door, Vander motioned at the exit.
“Sit,” I commanded. I’m not embarrassed to say that I put a hefty magical push into that single word. Vander immediately sat. His tall, lanky frame appeared beyond humorous sitting on my petite, brownie-sized couch. Given how well he’d complied, it was all I could do to refrain from calling him agood boy. Instead, I gave a nod of acceptance and continued carrying Byx to her bedroom.
Byx’s bed fit her well, which meant she’d need an upgrade soon. Brownies aged slower than most species. We started small and remained that way. However, we did grow, and when Byx stretched out, her toes nearly came to edge of the mattress.
“I like him, Momma. He feels good,” Byx said on yawn. Snuggling under her covers, Byx shivered before settling.
