Page 17 of Perfectly Petite Shorts (Perfect Pixie)

The other troll shrugged his massive shoulders and pushed the door open. “Ain’t none of my business. Maxine will make sure you leave a little smarter than you enter.” With a nod, he said, “Go on. Ain’t nobody here gonna hold your hand.”

I swallowed hard, feeling the tingle of my earlier burnt rum light a fire inside my belly. Quelling my shaking limbs, I nodded toward the troll and strolled inside like I owned the place. If I played my cards right and cheated like dad taught me, soon enough, that might just be true.

Gaia, I was an idiot.

S hit . I’d forgotten how hard trolls hit.

I’d also forgotten how bad their breath stank.

“Fuck, don’t you guys’ ever floss?” I barely dodged the second punch.

Gaia, my mouth got me into more trouble than my shitty warlock skills.

Still, if I’d had a few breath mints on me, I would have tossed the overgrown menace a few.

“You’re a card-carryin’ idiot, you know that, Vander?

” Maxine’s bulging biceps hung at her sides, her fingers fisted.

The frilly lace gently kissing her wrists looked as out of place as the vibrant floral pattern decorating her dress.

The bright pink-and-orange flowers clashed with Maxine’s puke-green skin.

I considered making another comment regarding Maxine’s fashion sense but figured that would get me about as far as my first one, and I didn’t relish another fist to the gut.

“Pay up, you cheatin’ piece of shit,” Maxine demanded.

“I didn’t cheat. I won that game fair and square,” I lied through my blood-stained teeth.

“Bullshit,” Maxine seethed, her voice gruff and very unladylike. Not that female trolls were remotely considered the paragons of antiquated female characteristics .

I grinned through the pain in my split lip. “Prove it.” My chin jutted out along with my foolish pride.

Maxine’s responding grin wiped mine away.

“Oh, I don’t have to prove it. I know it, and that’s good enough for me.

” Tossing her beefy arms into the air, she did a half twirl.

“I don’t see anyone else in this alley that’s gonna come to your rescue, and you sure as shit can’t rescue your own damn self. ”

I bristled, stupid pride well and truly pricked. “I’m a fucking warlock. I could—”

“What?” Maxine taunted. “You’ll do what?

You can’t manipulate an ounce of magic without it blowing up in your face.

I’ve seen what you can do , Vander. Shit, you’ve got what?

One or two barely white hairs along your temple.

And look at your fingertips. Barely a hint of black.

You should still be nursin’ at your momma’s tit, not out cheatin’ at cards. ”

I ground my teeth as rage burned deep within. I wanted to scream. I wanted to weave some kick-ass spell or throw a powerful charm at Maxine—something that wouldn’t just fuck her up but shut her up too. Nothing hurt as bad as the truth.

“It’s my money. I’m not giving it back.” I reversed a step only for my back to connect with a literal brick wall.

The alley Maxine had cornered me in was too damn tight and stank nearly as bad as Maxine’s breath.

My eyes darted left and then right. Nothing but a couple of dumpsters were there to witness my inevitable beatdown.

Despite the odds, I wasn’t giving up my recklessly earned cash.

I couldn’t. I needed that money for rent.

My one-room apartment was shit, but without it, I’d be out on the street, and winter was a poor time to find yourself homeless.

Maxine’s grin grew, scrunching her yellow eyes. “Is that what you really think?” Arms raised, Maxine held one hand open while grinding the opposite fist into her palm. “You really wanna get hurt that bad?”

Was that a legitimate question? Of course I didn’t want to get beaten.

There were a lot of things in my life I hadn’t wanted.

I hadn’t wanted my human mother to die when I was five years old.

Despite what a shitty fuckup my warlock father had been, I hadn’t wanted him to bite the big one when I was barely old enough to feel magic, let alone manipulate it.

But that’s not the hand Gaia had delt me.

Was it any wonder I cheated when I could?

I’d seen what life had to throw my way when I played it fair.

I wasn’t about to sit back and wait for the next catastrophe to befall me.

But as I looked into Maxine’s murderous gaze, I had to face the facts that my current tactics weren’t bearing the best fruit either.

Slowly easing right, toward the closest road and away from the dumpsters blocking my way, I said, “Maybe we can work something out.” I licked my lips, tasting the metal tint of my own blood. “I’m a fair hand at cards and I—”

Maxine’s raucous laughter cut me off short. “Oh, that’s rich comin’ from your mouth. I can’t figure out if you’re stupid or deluded. It don’t matter to me. Only, I hate thinkin’ that I’m beatin’ up on someone whose got a mental deficiency.” Maxine tapped her temple. “That don’t sit well with me.”

“I am not mentally deficient,” I screamed. Damn my idiotic pride. Maxine had given me a possible way out of this, and I’d thrown it away. Maybe I really was an idiot.

“Good.” Maxine was back to grinning. “Because I’m really looking forward to beatin’ the shit out of you.”

Done with words, Maxine’s meaty fist swung.

I dodged the first two, but the third caught me on the chin and bounced the back of my head off the brick wall.

Pain lanced through my brain, making my vision swim.

Maxine turned into a hazy blur of half a dozen trolls.

Her garish, floral dress swirled with nauseating color.

I’d like to say I got a hit or two of my own in, but that would be a lie. I don’t even think I managed to rip a single hole in that damn dress. The best I could claim was splashing it with my blood, adding crimson to the kaleidoscope of color.

I’m not sure how long Maxine used me as her punching bag. I didn’t think she’d kill me outright. Maxine wasn’t that kind.

“You always gotta do shit the hard way, Vander.” Maxine’s noxious breath assaulted me again, her lips close to my ear. Her voice sounded like muffled static. I barely registered her hand rummaging around in my pockets. I might as well have been a corpse for all the fight I had left in me.

Maxine’s shoe nudged my shoulder. I think I grunted but wasn’t certain. All I knew was that some type of animalistic sound exited my mouth.

“Do yourself a favor and don’t come around the club again. Next time I won’t be so sweet to ya.” Chuckling, Maxine wandered off. The sound of her heavy footfalls faded as the cold wind blew into the alley.

I lay there, each breath an act of agonizing pain.

Forget about a couple of broken ribs. I had to wonder if Maxine had left a single one intact.

Wheezing, I somehow managed to push myself up.

I leaned into the cold wall. My mouth opened, little more than a silent scream pushing its way through.

My eyes were swollen shut, my mouth was full of blood, and more than a few teeth were loose.

I had absolutely nothing left. Maxine was right. I was a shit warlock. I couldn’t even make a pain charm without fucking it up. Even the best warlock couldn’t do healing magic, but they could mask or even dismantle pain. I should have been able to do that at the very least. Only, I couldn’t.

I had the juice to do it. Too much juice.

My magical manipulation was wild and untamed.

No matter how hard I tried, I just couldn’t seem to get a handle on it.

Worthless as he was, if my father had lived, he could have at least taught me control.

I could have taken it from there. But he hadn’t lived long enough.

Dear old dad had gone and gotten himself killed.

My father, Viktor Kines, was worse than a screwup. He was the kind of warlock that gave other warlocks a bad name. He’d made poor decisions in his life but none as bad as when he decided to cross a brownie. One did not cheat a brownie and expect to come out the other end alive.

Then again, one might say the same thing about cheating a troll.

I wanted to laugh but couldn’t muster the energy.

Besides, managing even the slightest chuckle would have hurt like hell.

Like father, like son. All my life I’d wanted to be the exact opposite of my father.

But here I was—broken and bleeding in some shitty alley.

No one was out looking for me. No one would miss me when I was gone.

Facts were facts. I was a fuckup just like my father.

That cold, harsh truth reverberated through my battered brain as my body finally succumbed to welcome darkness. I let it come, not even attempting to fight it. If Gaia had any mercy at all, I wouldn’t wake up.

G eorgiana

“How are things going?” Almeria was one of the witches who sold consignment goods in Brownies Bits and Boggles.

She was a talented witch but hated marketing herself.

That was true of a lot of witches. Many had their heads stuck in the clouds and couldn’t be fussed with putting up with their clientele.

Almeria was, perhaps, the poster child illuminating this problem.

“Well, overall,” I answered while going through the latest wares Almeria brought. My eyebrow rose as I stared at one and asked, “A love potion? Really, Almeria?”

Her giggle made Almeria’s many bracelets jingle and dance, adding a metal cadence to the sound of her mirth.

“Oh, Georgiana, you know me better than that.” Picking up the charm, Almeria twirled it within her slender fingertips.

“It’s not really a love potion. I wouldn’t make something like that.

Goodness, Fairy law would be all over me if I tried to pilfer something like that to the public. ”