Page 7 of Perfectly Petite Shorts (Perfect Pixie)

The point was, houses always gave off some kind of emotion, but this… There was nothing. Simply nothing. Peat wasn’t certain if the house truly held no life or was simply slumbering. Regardless, it left an emptiness in the pit of his belly and nausea creeping up his throat.

Nirgal walked him through room after empty room. Not that the rooms were unfurnished. There was simply no soul. Most thought houses were little more than brick and mortar. Home-and-hearth pixies knew different. At least, that’s what Peat had always thought. He was currently doubting all he’d known.

They worked their way down the stairs and the second level was no different than the top which was no different than the main floor.

The more he explored, the more Peat knew he couldn’t take this job.

He’d never imagined the reason he’d turn it down would be due to the house itself and not its vampiric owners.

Swallowing down his growing nausea, Peat’s head twisted this way and that. His magenta-tipped hair swirled around his shoulders as he desperately searched for some spark of life. Anything would be better than this emptiness.

“Peat?” Nirgal’s voice softened with his obvious concern. “Are you well? Forgive me but you appear pale.”

Peat shook his head. “I…I’m sorry, Nirgal. It’s just…” Peat wasn’t certain how to put his concern into words. He finally settled on, “The house isn’t what I expected.”

Nirgal’s head tilted and Peat swore those crimson eyes dug right into his soul. With a sad grin, Nirgal said, “If you can stomach it, I have one final space to show you.”

Could he? Peat wasn’t certain. He could feel curious eyes watching him.

He wouldn’t say the chateau was filled with vampires.

He’d seen a few here and there, peeking out of doorways or standing stock still in rooms where, Nirgal explained, said vampires stayed.

Each of those rooms had blackout curtains or, in most cases, steel shutters that kept any and all sunlight out.

Peat wanted to pull back and head for the exit.

What was the point in seeing more? He couldn’t take this job.

It was making him physically ill to be in the place.

And yet…some of those watching eyes held hopeful curiosity.

That was most likely speculative fantasy, and yet, Peat couldn’t shake the feeling that he was right.

And then there was Nirgal. His host had been so very polite. Peat hadn’t felt threatened since his earlier freakout in the entryway. While he didn’t necessarily owe this vampire anything, Peat thought it would be impolite to cut and run.

Offering a smile he didn’t remotely feel, Peat said, “Lead the way.” The small squeeze Nirgal gave his fingers made Peat think the vampire was grateful.

“Sir,” Cassius interrupted. The vampire’s obsidian gaze flittered from Peat to Nirgal. “Are you certain that is wise?” Cassius clasped his hands behind his back. “Does Peat need to see where you dwell?”

Peat felt Nirgal’s fingers stiffen in his before twitching. “I do not see the harm,” Nirgal flatly stated.

“But, sir—”

“Come.” Nirgal tugged on Peat’s hand. Had the vampire wished, he could have torn Peat’s arm off. The motion was purposefully gentle.

Just as before, Peat followed as he was led to yet another artfully carved wooden door at the end of a small hall.

Peat soon learned that door was not what it seemed.

Opening it revealed a thick core of steel.

While Nirgal acted as if opening the door was effortless, Peat thought it was likely anything but to anyone of lesser strength.

“Ah! I had wondered if the light still worked.” Nirgal sounded pleased as a dim light barely lit the stairway leading down.

Peat leaned over, staring into the dark pit that seemed to go on forever. For the first time, he was hesitant to follow.

“Um… I…”

“It is perfectly safe,” Nirgal reassured. “This stairway leads to my private crypt. It is the final living area of the chateau.”

Peat was positive there was nothing living regarding the chateau but kept those thoughts to himself. For now. Eventually, he would need to tell Nirgal why he couldn’t accept the job.

Wary, Peat took the first step, and then the second.

The space was cool. It was damp as was to be expected but didn’t leave him feeling wet.

It was a comfortable dampness. Each step took him farther down into a black hole.

The trip should have increased Peat’s discomfort.

But that’s not what he felt. It was…odd.

That sickeningly empty feeling left Peat.

He wasn’t sure what filled it, but there was…

something. Focusing on the feeling, Peat thought it was like a heartbeat—so slow it was nearly nonexistent.

That wasn’t quite the right phrasing. Homes didn’t have a circulatory system, but they did vibrate.

It was difficult to parse this feeling out.

It was even more difficult to tell if it was truly there.

Peat had almost convinced himself he was mistaken when that thrum sounded again—deep, resonant, and mournful.

The feeling hit Peat so hard he stumbled. Nirgal was there to block his fall as Peat fell into the vampire’s waiting arms.

“Are you well?” Nirgal asked. “Did you trip? Forgive me. I’ve walked these steps so many times I hardly pay attention. I fear they may not be as even as they once were. ”

Peat shook his head as a fresh shiver wound its way down his spine. “N-No. It’s not that. I…” He hardly knew what to say or how to phrase it. With a wane smile, Peat pulled out of Nirgal’s hold. “I’m sorry. Please, lead on.”

“If you are certain.”

Peat was sure he saw concern in Nirgal’s bloody eyes. “I am. Thank you.”

Nirgal’s hands left Peat’s shoulders but momentarily hovered, waiting to see if Peat would falter.

When he didn’t, Nirgal turned and continued their descent.

A few more steps and Peat found himself standing on flat, solid ground.

Limestone covered the floor, lined the walls, and held the ceiling at bay.

Dim light filtered in from the stairway.

“Here we are,” Nirgal said when he came to the only door in the alcove. “This is where I stay.” Nirgal’s hand hovered over the door, hesitating. “I am afraid this room is not as beautiful as the chateau above. So few have been allowed entry I hardly saw the need for…more.”

“I am not impressed with things , Nirgal.”

Nirgal’s lips twitched. “Then how am I to impress you? I am afraid I have been a vampire far too long to contemplate another method.”

“I suppose we’ll simply have to figure it out as we go,” Peat answered, uncertain where that response came from. He still wasn’t at all sure he was going to accept this job.

This time, Nirgal’s lips did more than twitch.

They spread into a wide grin. Most vampires didn’t show their teeth unless they meant to intimidate or threaten.

Peat didn’t think Nirgal had a choice. “A challenge. How delightful.” With an effortless push, Nirgal opened the door and said, “Welcome to my personal dwelling.”

Peat barely took a single step into the room when a gasp fell from his lips.

It wasn’t what his eyes saw that took his breath away, but the deep thrum of the home desperately reaching out to him.

“Goddess,” Peat exhaled. “It’s so lonely.

” Grasping the fabric over his heart, tears filled Peat’s eyes.

“So very alone,” Peat whispered and felt the chateau pulse with pain.

Peat had thought anything would be better than the emptiness he’d felt earlier.

Not for the first time, Peat considered just how wrong he’d been.

N irgal

Simply standing there, doing nothing, was difficult.

Nirgal wanted to reach out, to hold this gentle pixie in his arms. Peat’s scent was overwhelmingly pleasant.

It was as if he’d known it all his life instead a handful of minutes.

Peat’s presence permeated every cell and dug down into what might still be left of Nirgal’s soul.

Many questioned whether vampires retained their souls when born into their second lives.

Nirgal began doubting long ago, but Peat’s presence made him wonder if his might still be present.

The genuine heartbreak Peat radiated was unquestionable. Peat felt Nirgal’s home keenly, reflecting a suspicion Nirgal had been nursing for centuries. That suspicion had only intensified upon returning from his trip across the sea.

Nirgal remained still as Peat tripped across the room, laying his hands on the limestone wall. Peat’s body shuddered, and he leaned his cheek against the cool rock. Tears leaked down his face, dripping to the rocky floor below.

“Peat?” Nirgal finally spoke, that single word whisper quiet.

Nirgal waited as Peat inhaled several times. The beautiful pixie didn’t sob. His tears were nearly as silent as the tomb they stood within. Time was unimportant and had long ago lost all meaning. Nirgal was content to stand there, waiting.

“I thought it was dead,” Peat finally said. Waving a hand in the air, Peat half-ass pointed upwards, indicating the chateau. “ There was nothing. I’ve never had that happen before. I mean, there’s always something . What I feel isn’t always pleasant, but every home has personality.”

“And the chateau did not?”

“No.” Peat tried to shake his head but simply wound up rubbing his cheek against the rough limestone surface. “It made me feel sick.”

Nirgal’s heart thudded. Peat could not leave.

The very thought nearly sent him into a rage.

And yet, if that was Peat’s wish, Nirgal knew he would not stop him.

He could not and would not do anything that would cause this pixie physical or emotional harm.

There was no questioning the thought. It wasn’t speculation. It was simply fact.

And yet here he was, watching as tears continued streaming down Peat’s face. Was he not, in fact, allowing harm to come to the pixie?