Page 10 of Perfectly Petite Shorts (Perfect Pixie)

“I would suggest bleeding the pixie, but Nirgal would not approve.” The cold, indifferent tone Cassius used to speak of forcefully taking Peat’s blood made him shiver.

“As fond as Nirgal is of Peat, he would end your second life without so much as a word should you do so.” Gashan didn’t sound any more distraught over Cassius’s death than she did Peat’s.

“True,” Cassius coolly answered.

“And I doubt the chateau would allow harm to come to him,” Gashan added. “Peat has already woven his essence into the very foundation. The chateau would protect him.”

Peat sent a grateful pulse through the wall he was leaning against.

“That is as is should be,” Cassius answered. “Despite our earlier misgivings, Peat is an exceptional home-and-hearth pixie. I had not realized how empty our home had become. Surprisingly, I find Peat’s presence agreeable.”

“As do I,” Gashan answered. “It is a far more pleasant environment. I’ve noticed the change in our younger nest mates. Each day they grow fonder of the pixie. I would be most reluctant to lose him or cause Peat harm.”

That’s a relief , Peat thought as he slumped against the wall.

His emotions had sped across a shaky landscape and finally come in for a soft landing.

Peat clung to his wall for a few more minutes, listening with half an ear as Cassius and Gashan’s conversation moved away from Nirgal’s lack of appetite and Peat’s meal potential.

Quietly backtracking his steps, Peat thought he could do with a breath of fresh air and headed to the patio.

The night air was cool to the point of chilly.

Sitting on a nearby chair, Peat pulled his shawl around his shoulders.

Was Nirgal really okay? And if not, was there anything he could do to help?

Peat chewed on his bottom lip, puffing it up.

Did Nirgal want his blood? And if so, would Peat be willing to donate it?

Peat’s full-body shiver had little to do with the cold and everything to do with the memory of Nirgal’s fangs.

They were enormous. The thought of those sharp teeth biting into his skin…

Peat slammed his eyes closed, but that didn’t take away the vision or the cringe of phantom pain.

Nirgal’s teeth could do some serious damage—damage Peat wouldn’t recover from.

N irgal

Nirgal’s hunger was…odd. He couldn’t even truly remember what human hunger felt like.

Nirgal vaguely remembered feeling a deep craving when he was a younger vampire, but it had been centuries since he’d experienced it.

Even now, with the fresh memory of Peat’s enticing scent cloying against his senses, Nirgal wouldn’t exactly call his desire a craving.

But he did want Peat’s blood. There was no denying that.

There was also no denying the fact that the scent of any other blood nauseated him.

It was a conundrum. Was this what Lucroy Moony had felt?

Is this what had driven the Southeastern American King to risk vampiric lore and sip from Peaches’s veins?

For the briefest moment, Nirgal contemplated contacting King Moony, but his pride would not allow it.

At least, not yet. Perhaps he would become desperate enough later.

Until that time, Nirgal would cling to his pride as tenaciously as possible.

Opening the door of his crypt, Nirgal’s lips pulled back in distaste. Gashan had left another meal at his door. The blood’s scent was disgusting. How in the world had he ingested this in the past?

Walking away from the cooling blood, Nirgal made his way up the stairs and to the chateau above.

It was such a delight, having something to look forward to.

The pleasure pushed away his growing fatigue.

It was becoming increasingly challenging forcing his body from slumber.

Nirgal did not blame Cassius and Gashan for their concern.

If they understood just how hard it was for him to wake, they would be even more persistent.

Running his fingertips along the limestone walls, Nirgal marveled at the gentle hum that now greeted him.

Had the chateau and surrounding grounds ever felt this alive?

If so, it was beyond Nirgal’s memory. Peat had well and truly woken his nest’s home.

He’d resurrected the very foundation. Truly, the pixie was a wonder.

Reaching the top of the stairs, Nirgal opened the door leading to his residence. One of his nestlings walked by, her cheeks rosy from a recent feeding. Contented peace surrounded her as she dipped her head and offered the barest hint of a smile.

Seeing his nestlings so settled and at ease filled Nirgal with pride.

While he might not be as magnanimous of a king as Lucroy Moony, Nirgal had long ago lost interest in lording his power over those he considered part of his nest. It would be incredibly simple to do so.

Where was the challenge in that? Where was the satisfaction or pride?

There was none. Controlling his nest by force was a hollow victory. Nirgal found such things worse than boring. He had no need to constantly demonstrate his power. Those who truly had power and did not fear others soon learned that lesson.

Walking the rooms of the house, Nirgal kept his ears open, listening for the gentle hum of his pixie’s wings. While diminutive, Peat’s small wings made the sweetest of sounds when they fluttered. The magenta pixie dust they spread held a magical quality all its own.

But as Nirgal walked the rooms, Peat was nowhere to be found.

A niggle of concern worked its way into Nirgal’s brain.

Descending the chateau staircase, Nirgal came across one of his youngest nestlings, a vampire only three hundred years into their second life.

Stopping, he asked, “Have you seen Peat?”

His nestling’s eyes momentarily widened, showing off deep ebony orbs. With a slight bow, he answered, “Last I saw him, he was headed toward the back patio. I am sorry, ancient one, but I have not seen him recently. Do you wish me to find him for you?”

Nirgal waved off his nestling. “No. If I require assistance, I will let you know.”

“Thank you, sir. Please do not hesitate to do so.”

Nirgal walked away, leaving his nestling standing on the stairs.

Making his way to the back patio, Nirgal opened the door, walking out into the chilly night.

Considering Peat was huddled under his too-thin shawl a few feet away from the door, Nirgal didn’t have to look long.

The wave of relief that swept through his body was undeniable.

“It has been far too long since I felt the cold, but I believe it is too chilly for such light outer wear. Would you like for me to bring you a heavier blanket? I believe we have several in the chateau to meet our donor’s needs.” Nirgal stepped closer to Peat.

Head snapping his direction, Peat’s eyes widened, showing off an array of magnificent magenta. “Nirgal. I didn’t hear you.” Peat quickly stood, shifting his bare feet back and forth. Pixie dust floated down from under the shawl wrapped around Peat’s shoulders.

“Apologies. I fear my movements are unintentionally silent.”

Peat grinned and waved Nirgal off while his cheeks flushed a lovely shade of pink. “No need to apologize. If I had normal wings, I’d move a lot more silently also.”

Nirgal shook his head. “Not true. Wings hum. I find the sound of yours uniquely soothing.”

Peat’s blush darkened. Head hung, Peat’s long hair covered his features as he looked down and away. “That’s… I’m not sure what to say to that.”

“I do not believe any words are required.”

With an exasperated huff, Peat pushed a lock of hair behind the slightly pointed tip of an ear. “How do you always know the right thing to say?”

Nirgal gave an oddly human shrug. “I’ve had centuries to contemplate responses. Even so, I believe you are being far too generous with your praise.” Nirgal did not believe he’d ever been told something so erroneously kind.

Whether it was truly the correct word choice or not, Peat kept his silence as he stared into the darkened night. Tiny willow wisps of light could be seen darting in and out. The sprite colony was already busy.

“They’re industrious little fellows, aren’t they?” Peat said, mirroring Nirgal’s thoughts.

“They seem quite content and eager to shape their new home.”

“The forest is happy they’re here.” Peat’s tone was soft and sounded distant.

Nirgal wasn’t certain how that worked. Peat was a home-and-hearth pixie but shared an affinity for the woods. Peat had informed him his connection wasn’t nearly as strong as a nature pixie’s would be, but since the surrounding lands were part of the chateau, it called to him as well.

“Have they been bothering you?” Nirgal asked, truly hoping that wasn’t the case. He desperately wanted the sprites and his pixie to get along.

Peat shook out his long hair, the ends barely kissing the swell of Peat’s rump. “No. They’ve been adhering to our earlier agreement. I don’t think they’ve realized yet that I’m outside.”

“Ah. Well, that is good to hear.”

Silence settled once more. The quiet would have been comfortable enough if Nirgal didn’t suspect Peat had something on his mind that needed aired out. Patience was key, and Nirgal had developed that particular trait centuries ago. After all, when one had an eternity to live, time became irrelevant.

Bullfrog song soon joined the soft, nightly chorus. It was amazing how peaceful the sounds of darkness were. Nirgal stood there, sentinel still, his body positioned to block the light breeze from touching Peat’s poorly clad body.

Crickets soon joined the evening melody, and finally it seemed Peat was ready to speak.

“Why aren’t you feeding?” Peat bluntly asked without any sort of segue. Peat’s head turned, his bright eyes staring up at Nirgal with worry.

“Why do you assume I am not?” Nirgal countered, temporarily avoiding the question.