Page 15 of Perfectly Petite Shorts (Perfect Pixie)

I pulled out the wad of cash. Barney’s appearance was the reason I hadn’t been able to give the were-flamingo a refund.

I needed every dollar I could scrounge up.

My father had died worse than penniless.

He owed shady characters like Arie Belview more than I’d be able to pay off in a lifetime.

It was an unending battle with no light in sight.

Some days it didn’t seem worth it to go on, to keep trying. It would have been a lot easier to throw in the towel and give up. I hated to think about all the times I’d considered doing just that. I had no idea what kept me going, what made me get out of bed each and every morning.

Wad of cash in hand, I made my way back to the door and slapped it in Barney’s outstretched fingers.

“It’s all I’ve got.” I’d tried holding back before and it had taken me over a week to be able to get out of bed after the beatdown I’d gotten. I wouldn’t make that mistake again.

Barney meticulously counted out the cash while I waited to see if I’d close the door of my own volition or if I’d be knocked out on the floor by the time Barney left.

“Good news, Vander.” Barney’s grin held just a hint of sarcasm. “Looks like I don’t have to physically remind you about paying your debts.”

I wanted to scream that they weren’t my debts, but I’d already done that and knew my pleas fell of deaf—or maybe uncaring—ears.

“Take care, kid.” Barney tilted his head my direction before walking off. For someone so large, his footfalls barely whispered across the aged, piss-scented hall.

Unlike the were-flamingo, I didn’t peek out and watch Barney leave.

I closed the door and leaned my forehead on its chipped surface.

“I’ve gotta find a way to make more money,” I lamented to the empty room.

Gaia knew I wouldn’t get far plying my questionable warlock wares.

I needed to figure something else out and fast. Too bad everything that came to mind left me broken and bleeding in the end.

G eorgiana

How were humans still alive? It was a question I’d pondered on more than one occasion.

I rarely spent much mental energy on the thought.

It was pointless. Somehow, they continued living despite all their attempts to the contrary.

They were a fragile species. That fragileness filled my bank account and kept Brownies Bits and Boggles in the red.

“Does this truly work?” an older human gentleman asked as he held up a charm filled with a potency potion. Brownies Bits and Boggles was also a consignment store, and the current charm he held was witch made.

“Of course it works,” I answered while trying to keep the offense out of my tone.

“I do not sell poor merchandise.” I tried to remember that the human hadn’t meant to offend me.

Humans were often skeptical. They probably had a right to be.

It wasn’t like there was an oversight committee that regulated such things.

One had to rely on the reputation of the maker, and I had an excellent reputation.

Brownies didn’t lie. We didn’t cheat either. There was no need.

Brownies were magic. We didn’t just manipulate it.

Magic coursed through our veins. It made up our cells and every bit of our DNA.

We were an honest species because there was no reason not to be.

Some thought brownies were foolish, that we could have more power and influence on world affairs.

Bah . What did we want with that? Let fairies flit about and hold to their precious laws.

As long as Fairy left us alone, we couldn’t care less what they did.

“Apologies,” the human said before coughing into his hand.

“It’s just… My girlfriend is much younger than I am, and she expects a lot more in the bedroom than I’m currently able to sustain.

” His cheeks flushed with what I presumed was embarrassment.

“The pills my human doctor gave me work, but only for a time and I’m not supposed to use them on a long-term basis.

” His cheeks flushed a brighter shade of crimson.

“I require something a bit more long lasting.”

Stepping off the riser behind the front register, I walked to the human.

He was a good two feet taller than me. Probably not that tall for a human, but nearly all humans towered over brownies.

Considering I was average height for my species, I had to tilt my neck back to look up at my latest customer.

Patting him on the thigh, I said, “I believe you will be quite satisfied with Melody’s work.

” I nodded my head in the direction of the charm in his hand.

“She’s a very skilled witch and stands behind her product.

I assure you, the potion is well worth the price.

” And I’d collect a tidy commission as well.

The human puffed out his chest. “I will take your word for it. A friend of mine suggested your establishment and advised I wouldn’t be disappointed.”

I grinned, showing off the tips of my slightly pointed teeth. Brownies weren’t carnivorous, but you’d never know it by looking at our teeth.

“Wonderful. Bring the charm to the desk and I’ll ring you up.” I hurried over to the riser, easily stepping onto its surface and elevating my height by about two and a half feet. I’d had the riser built so I could be eye level with the majority of my customers.

The human passed over his card, and I rang him up.

Smiling, I carefully packaged the charm and handed it over.

I had no doubt the man would be back, eager to spend more of his money on another one of Melody’s charms. And if his bedroom activities got a little out of hand and injury befell his fragile human body, then he’d likely be in the market for a little of my healing mojo.

Even the most well-crafted witch healing charm was no match for a brownie gifted in the healing arts. I was one such brownie.

“Have a good evening,” I said as I walked the human to the door. The bell over the door chimed as it swung closed. Turning my back, I sent a wave of magic toward the door, locking it up tight and turning the open sign to closed. “Closing time,” I sang out to the empty store.

Walking back to the register, I cleared out the day’s totals while happily humming. While I enjoyed my job and business, I enjoyed my daughter more. Byx was the light of my life, and I missed her while I worked.

I was fortunate that my grandmother, Lilian, was able to watch my little Byx while I was gone.

No matter what the species, being a single mother was never easy.

I didn’t harbor any ill will towards Byx’s father.

While I’d cared for him, our joining wasn’t a love match.

We’d both known that, and when I became pregnant, I had no expectations.

Byx’s genetic donor had no interest in helping raise her, and I hadn’t argued.

I did not want anyone in my daughter’s life that didn’t believe the sun and moon rotated around her.

Quickly finishing my closing routine, I took a second glance around the shop before I focused on Lilian’s home, instantly transporting my body there.

I reemerged in Lilian’s living room. My grandmother barely glanced my direction when she said, “Byx is taking a nap.”

“Any problems?” I stepped around Lilian’s sofa as I joined her in the kitchen. My grandmother was in the middle of washing today’s dishes, and I grabbed a towel to help dry.

“She’s getting fussier,” Lilian answered after a brief pause. “You know what that likely means.”

Unease swirled within my chest and sent butterflies fluttering in my stomach. “Has she faded yet?”

Lilian’s lips pursed before she gave a slow nod.

“I’m pretty sure she phased out earlier today.

I’m sorry to say I wasn’t watching her the entire time.

Byx gained my attention when she grew quiet.

By the time I glanced her direction, she was coming back into focus.

I could be wrong, but I believe she briefly phased out. She’s at that age.”

Lilian was right. Byx might be a little young, but it wasn’t unheard of for brownie children to undergo their first transportation at her age. Especially children that held as much magic as my daughter.

Lilian’s hand rested on my shoulder. “I know it’s scary, but this family hasn’t lost a child in over four centuries. Byx won’t turn into another Alberto.”

Everyone in our family knew Alberto’s tale. It was our own whispered nightmare. It was the fate all brownie children faced when first learning to transport.

That was a poor way to describe it— learning .

Transporting wasn’t something that was actively taught.

It was an innate ability. The first time it happened was the most dangerous.

It was often spontaneous, unplanned, and many times the children wound up in strange places.

The lucky ones simply transported from one part of the house to another.

The truly unlucky children transported to another dimension—to a place no one could reach them because no one knew where they were.

Those children didn’t understand their abilities well enough to get back and every now and again, a brownie was simply lost .

That’s what we called it—lost. No one could stomach the thought of saying what had truly happened, that those children were most likely dead.

Did we know that for a fact? No. And that is what allowed us to live with the fantasy that they were simply lost somewhere and would reappear at a later date.

Very rarely, that did indeed happen. But more often than not, when a child disappeared during their first transport and couldn’t be found, they would never be seen again.