Page 2 of Of Pixies and Promises (Fae Guardians)

Chapter

Two

S id popped a lit cigarette onto his bottom lip and let it dangle. He wasn’t supposed to smoke. The digger’s diesel plumes were bad enough that the Tainted fae might learn humans were in their territory. Still, as he took a drag, he found he was out of fucks to give.

Sid was a Reaper—one of the elite squad of fae killers—until recently, when a Fae Guardian crushed his hand and destroyed half his motor function. Now Sid was relegated to patrol duty— glorified babysitting— and his perspective on everything had changed.

He inspected the surgical scars on his hand with distaste. He wasn’t sure he’d be let back into the field to hunt unless it was a suicide mission. Sid might be pissed off and bitter, but he wanted to live.

Part of the reason he became a Reaper in the first place wasn’t to kill fae but to get out of the stifling, crowded, diesel-soaked concrete city.

Seeing gray every day did something to his head.

He pulled the cigarette from his mouth and scowled at it.

He’d picked up the nasty habit while recovering.

It occupied his mouth, so he didn’t have to talk to people, meaning uncomfortable questions remained unanswered.

Questions like, why did Silver—Sid’s ex-lover—leave humanity to be with the fae?

Silver hated them as much as anyone, but as a “Well-blessed” human from the old world, she’d developed special abilities that both awed and frightened her.

Then she fucked a vampire—the same fucker who broke Sid’s hand.

Granted, at the time, Sid had just discovered Silver’s betrayal, and his emotionally stunted brain couldn’t process his feelings.

It had confused him. He was about to clock her in the face when her vampire mate crushed his hand.

Sid had never raised his hand to a woman—unless she was the fae enemy.

He didn’t think he’d have gone through with it.

Not because Silver and he had bumped uglies or because she was a deadlier Reaper than him.

It was because Silver hadn’t been attacking him at the time.

His actions had sprung from a place of bitterness…

Silver’s betrayal stung. The hit to his pride hurt the most.

He wasn’t in love with Silver. Never had been. The entirety of their relationship was to scratch each other’s sexual itches, no questions asked. The hit to his pride came from the fact that he should have seen Silver falling for one of the fae. He should have protected her.

Ahh. Who was he kidding? That wasn’t the reason either.

He wished he could place his discontent solely at the feet of Silver’s affair with the enemy, but before she’d even come on the scene, he’d started to see the holes in President Nero’s propaganda.

Nero said the fae were tainted, poisonous feral beasts…

but Sid saw a different story. He saw fae with families.

Lovers. Friends. He saw them thriving where humans weren’t.

The only way to deal with this discontinuity was not to feel at all.

He became a walking, talking killing machine.

Until Silver removed the wool covering Sid’s mind. If she—one of the most vicious Reapers he’d ever met—could have a change of heart, then what the hell was Sid doing fighting for an asshole like Nero?

A flying bug knocked his cigarette from his lips. Shit . He stomped on it before it caught fire. When he looked up, the bug flew at his face. He swatted, but it dodged his hand, circled, and targeted him again.

“Sid!” shouted one of his team. “Need help carrying this crap.”

He glared into the forest, waiting for the bug to attack again.

Strange things existed out here. One could never be too careful.

What seemed like a bug could be something else.

But after one of the workers shouted again, he ducked under a Jurassic-sized fern and walked back to where they were digging up cobalt.

His gut churned like the soil caught in the digger’s claws.

“Over here,” called Brian.

Sid had spoken two words to Brian since the start of the mission. Now, apparently, the science man thought they were friends.

“We need help carting this to the truck,” Brian said, wiping sweat from his brow. “The barrow broke. It’s rusted through, so we’ll have to bucket the load across.”

Rusted through . All the metal in Crystal City was old.

It had been smelted, forged, and recycled a thousand times.

The only way they’d found this cobalt deposit was through a freak coincidence, but getting out to survey the land had been difficult.

And if fae discovered them poking around where they shouldn’t, returning would be hard.

It was a smash-and-grab situation.

Carting goods was not in Sid’s job description, but he supposed the faster they loaded the truck, the safer it was for everyone.

Dumping his rifle, he hauled a bucket of rocks and trudged through the forest toward where they’d stashed their truck.

They arrived in Elphyne through a human-built portal machine that used fae mana for fuel.

They only had enough fuel for one round trip.

Everything had to be loaded on the truck, and the digger had to be ready to collect by a precise time, or they missed the portal home.

Sid emptied his load into the truck’s tray. He flexed his scarred fist, noting how it hurt less in the wild than in the city. When he returned to the dig sight, he found Brian discussing something with another worker.

“What is it?” Sid asked.

“There’s a lot of cobalt here,” Brian explained, gaze darting into the forest. “And I mean a lot . If we return with more people, equipment, and soldiers… the supply would help us go a long way in this war against the Tainted Ones.”

Sid hadn’t taken the time to learn the second worker’s name, who wore spectacles and operated the surveying instrument.

“You’re saying it’s worth a battle?” Sid asked. “If the Guardians find us, it will get bloody. We might miss the portal home.”

“It’s worth it.” Brian nodded. “Every load we bring back means more bullets, guns, and airships. The Professor said that with enough cobalt, we could store energy to power the portal devices.”

“We’d better get these loaded then.”

Sid shucked off the rest of his weapons and protective gear. They weighed him down. Left in only a shirt and fatigues, he reloaded his bucket, gritted his teeth, and headed back to the truck but stopped as he cleared the trees. Someone was inside the truck. Someone not human.

Fairyfloss pink hair flashed about the cabin, then disappeared in a blink. Sid’s knuckles whitened on the bucket as he went into Reaper mode. His eyes darted about. His senses strained. The wind rustled the leaves. Insects chirped. The soft sound of voices and the digger floated in from a distance.

And then came the unmistakable buzzing of fae wings.

He slowly put down the bucket but remembered he had no weapons.

He’d removed them to lighten his load as he worked.

Stupid . He was out of practice. Pink flashed again—this time from behind the truck.

Sid didn’t think it had noticed his arrival, so he crouched and peeked beneath the chassis.

Two dainty, bare feet padded along the dirt on the other side.

The hem of a pale gown and the tips of wings trailed behind.

Female.

Normally, he’d be there in an instant to slice her throat. But his eyes darted to his scarred hand, and he frowned. With Silver, his first instinct had been violence, but look where that got him—confused and with a dodgy hand. No. Maybe it was time to try talking first and using violence second.

Straightening, he walked forward on quiet boots. The closer he went, the more glimpses he caught through the gaps in the windows. With every inch of mystery uncovered, he became enthralled with her.

The wings at her back were shaped like a dragonfly’s.

Light shone through the membrane and cast prismatic light around her.

She was shorter than him—maybe five-foot-three.

Her pretty heart-shaped face crinkled in thought as she inspected the tires.

A thin scrap of gossamer fabric barely covered curvy hips and breasts but then flowed down to her feet.

The rest of her gown was made from ferns, leaves, and vines as though they’d grown to complement her body shape and hide the most intimate parts.

A flat, taut stomach was on display. A tiny pink jewel winked at her belly button.

It matched the glossy color of her lips.

She looked like a fairy version of Cinderella on her way to a ball.

What was she doing out here?

Pieces of her puzzle didn’t match the dainty. It started with paint around her eyes that glimmered and streaked down her cheeks like warpaint. It finished with the sharp, piranha-like fangs inside her pouty little mouth.

This pixie was a delicate but dangerous thing.

He’d seen wings like hers pinned in the president’s greenhouse at the top of Sky Tower.

He’d also heard about pixies, of course.

But had never seen one in real life. From what he understood, they preferred to stay in bug size unless visiting cities out of their natural territory, and then they grew to human size to fit in.

This was the side of Elphyne he’d been blind to. He’d spent so much time hunting the monsters while humans raided that he’d not taken in the beauty.

“What kind of magic is this?” she mumbled as she leaned through the open window and poked the truck’s dashboard.

Magic? His lips twitched in the corner, wanting to smile.

He must have made a sound because she glanced up.

Their gazes clashed. Long dark lashes framed violet eyes so vibrant that he was shocked.

Like him, she was frozen in place. He should be launching at her, covering her mouth to stop her from screaming…

but inexplicably, he stepped backward. He didn’t want to alarm her.

“You shouldn’t be here,” he warned quietly.

His words shocked her out of stasis. Those prismatic wings fluttered so hard they became a blur, and she flew over the truck to land closer to him.

“ You shouldn’t be here,” she shot back. “And you shouldn’t have been smoking in these parts. You could have set a fire.” She stomped on the crunchy, dead leaves. “Look. It’s kindling.”

He blinked. That bug flying in his face must have been her. He raised his palms. “You’re probably right.”

“I am?” Her eyes widened incredulously, then narrowed as she folded her arms petulantly. “Of course I am.”

Her fangs looked extra sharp up close. And those pouty lips looked extra plump.

Like most fae, she was a death wrapped in a pretty package…

all the easier to lure prey. They sized each other up.

Her violet eyes dragged a slow, assessing path from his boots to his sweat-soaked shirt.

Her brows lifted in the middle, and that pouty bottom lip disappeared between her fangs.

Was she checking him out?

Brian burst into the clearing with two soldiers hot on his heels. He aimed his rifle at the pixie. Something lurched inside Sid’s chest, and he twisted to face Brian, arms wide, blocking the pixie.

“Don’t,” he warned.

Brian jerked his gun at Sid. “Get out of the way. She’s risking the operation.”

“I know,” he growled. “I’ll take care of it.”

Just don’t kill her.

The thought of her blood soaking into the crunchy soil made his stomach curl.

For some stupid reason, he was reminded of Silver.

Just a flash. Then he was back in the present and backing up, getting closer to the pixie.

Her garden scent grew stronger. Why wasn’t she flying away?

He glanced over his shoulder and glimpsed a pale face, frozen limbs, and dormant wings.

Fear.

He’d seen that look in the eyes of his kills a thousand times right before he popped a bullet into their head.

All fae knew about the magic cutting metal bullets humans used.

If she tried to fly, Brian would shoot. She was in her human-sized form and an easy target.

Maybe she didn’t have enough mana to shrink to the bug size. Or maybe she was just afraid.

He nabbed her delicate wrist.

“Come with me,” he growled. “When we’re done, you’re free to go.”

Big violet eyes blinked at him.

“Are you insane, Sid? She’ll find a way to escape.” Brian retrained the rifle on them.

What the fuck? Sid glowered at Brian.

“Put it down, Brian. I’ve got this.”

“Move, or I’ll shoot through you, Sid.”

“Brian.”

“We can’t afford to get caught. We need the rest of the cobalt supply.”

The pixie mumbled something under her breath.

Sid strained to catch it, but then he smelled fuel.

His gaze swept down, registered the damp soil, and knew the pixie had cut the fuel line during her tinkering.

Before his eyes swept back up, before his lips could part to shout a warning, Brian squeezed the trigger.

The gun fired.