Touched by a Sprite

by E. A. Reynolds

  “Unlike you,” Kirkyn drawled dryly, and Ennis flashed a brief smile.

  “He’ll be worse,” Ennis told him, his gaze hardening, telling Kirkyn Wayfaire he had more than a few dealings with the demon that hadn’t gone smoothly.

  “Then, he’ll lose his life and his territory, because this guy is desperate. He’s running out of time,” Kirkyn said coldly. “Therefore, we need to get to forming a line of defense against these creatures instead of dicking around.”

  “I’ll set up a meeting, but I can’t guarantee he’ll take it.”

  “And you? Are you prepared to work with me in the event he won’t?” Kirkyn asked.

  “Tell me how we can help.”

  * * * *

  Baylee took in the wide-open space that was to be the new shop in the Homefront, one of the chain of hotels his cousin, Alisa, and her husband owned. Alisa had hired him to manage this one six months ago when he’d moved to the city.

  At the moment, the hotel was operating at limited capacity while the store was being finished. The plan was to stock many of the common items people forgot to pack, as well as some clothing and baby items.

  “The shelves will be brought in tonight,” the foreman told him, a hand on his hip as he glanced around. “Is your boss happy with the built-ins?”

  “Everything is perfect,” Baylee replied, recalling what his cousin had said last night.

  The blond man smiled. “I’m going on break in…” He looked down at the watch on his hairy arm. “Ten minutes. Do you want to grab a coffee?”

  Baylee returned his smile, but it didn’t cause so much as a flare of heat in his body. Even after all this time, his body didn’t react to even the cutest of men.

  “I’d love to, Parker,” Baylee said. This was the perfect human to kickstart his normal dating life with again. He was hungry for the simple contact that having a boyfriend brought, as well as the warmth and happiness that resulted from a decent relationship.

  But he doubted Parker would be anything more than a friend.

  “Great. Why don’t we go over to the Uncommon Cocoa Bean?”

  “That’s a great idea.” He loved the coffee there, as well as the pastries.

  “I better get back to work,” Parker said. “You want to drive over together?”

  “That sounds good,” Baylee said and backed out of the room.

  “He’s cute,” Alisa said from behind him. “But be careful. He’s human, and you’ve changed.”

  “So what?” he demanded grumpily. But she was right. He wasn’t the same innocent sprite barely aware of his powers he’d been before he’d come to live here.

  He and Alisa hadn’t grown up together. They’d connected five years ago before he met the demon, before he’d become a stalker victim and nearly lost his mind.

  Like him, she was only half sprite. They’d both been born of the same family but to human mothers. It was Alisa who’d tracked down her heritage and learned of the sprite community that lived near water in New Orleans.

  Most of the family had died off or moved away, but those who remained had been more than willing to welcome him when she’d brought him here to meet their sprite grandmother.

  His human family had no idea what he was. They’d merely considered him a psychic freak, so he’d been estranged from them even before faking his death.

  “Be careful you don’t seduce him,” she said. Though she spoke, her words sounded more like sighs of water, but he understood her every word as if she’d used English.

  “I’m not going to do that,” Baylee muttered. He knew very well how easy it was for him to affect a human’s feelings for him.

  He was also aware he could kill with the loss of his temper.

  “You really should take Grandmother’s advice and find a nice sprite your age.”

  He thinned his lips in anger. However, Baylee knew he might eventually have to settle for one of his own kind in order to avoid the risk of exposing his family to humans.

  “We’re just having fun,” Baylee told her. And that was all he was after. Baylee was still trying to heal, or at least that was what he kept telling himself.

  “As soon as this store is finished, Blade and I are going to leave for New Orleans. Can you handle managing the hotel here?”

  “Sure,” he said quickly.

  “My assistant will stay behind and help you settle in,” Alisa told him. “Blade is eager to return home to his family.”

  Blade, her husband, was a half water sprite, too. Their union as he understood it had been an arranged one between the two families that just so happened to be a love connection.

  “That’s fine.” He shrugged. It would be nice having someone familiar around on a daily basis. He didn’t need her help since he was already familiar with the job.

  “Don’t be mad.” She took his arm and led him away from the store. “I trust you, and so does Blade. In fact, it was his idea to hire you on. He wants the business to stay in the family, and he considers you family.”

  He squeezed her hand. “Thanks, Alisa.”

  She kissed his cheek. “I’m just happy your stalker didn’t actually kill you,” she said, giving him a warm look. “I would have missed you so much.”

  Alisa didn’t know the full truth, and he had no intentions of telling her. It was better that she kept believing the trouble had been only six months rather than three years and had been with an abusive human that he didn’t want to kill.

  When they reached her office, the faint scent of water lilies floated on the air.

  “Smells like Grandma,” Alisa murmured with a grin and then rapped on the door before opening it.

  Their grandmother, Clarity Lily, stood at the window looking out at the pond that ran along the property. Paddle boats would be brought in for the summer season, and the tennis courts were already home to a junior competition stop on the road to the US Open. He had suggested that to Alisa four years ago when he’d first seen the hotel, and she’d had the courts remodeled and brought up to code to host the tournament as well as a local summer league of amateurs.

  The matriarch turned to face them, her blue eyes almost like waves. Her lips tilted into a smile on her nearly smooth face. “Hello, children,” she said warmly, and they both went to hug her.

  “What brings you by, Gram?” Alisa asked, perching on the edge of her desk facing the older woman.

  “I thought it was time to have a chat with my grandson,” she said and gave Baylee an affectionate look.

  “What about?” he asked.

  “Matrimony, of course,” she said with a grin. “Didn’t your cousin tell you this was a family with a tradition steeped in arranged marriages? We had no choice once the number of human children began to grow.”

  “Arranged?” he asked, scrunching his face.

  “Yes,” she said and gave his cheek a light pinch. “I have two of the most perfect men you could ever want all ready to meet you.”

  “While I appreciate that, Grandmother, it’s not the best of ideas,” Baylee told her. Never would be. He couldn’t marry. The risk to the man who did take his hand would be too great if that demon ever found him.

  “Of course it is,” Gram said. “The Loch family lives in Ireland, so you’d be going to live there someday, but the Lake family resides here in the city. I’m sure that will be your choice given your attachment to the area.”

  Baylee laughed bitterly. He had little attachment to anything but his life. While Baylee wanted a future here, he’d run if he had no choice, which was why he didn’t object to Alisa’s assistant staying behind.

  “Gram, I can’t,” Baylee said, backing toward the door. “It’s way more complicated than I can explain, yet so simple. I just can’t do this to anyone.”

  “What are you talking about?” she demanded with a frown. “Come back here, young man.”

  He shook his head, turned, and rushed from the room. His heart twisted in his chest and drops of water sprinkled his head.

  Running
out into the receiving area where guests were checking in, and their luggage loaded onto a cart for transport to their rooms, Baylee slammed into a hard body.

  “Omph.”

  Gentle, calloused hands steadied him. He looked up, prepared to dazzle Parker with a smile, only he was staring into dark blue-gray eyes in a brown face. The concern in that stare almost melted his heart. Almost.

  Baylee pulled free and staggered, prompting his savior to reach for him again. His heart did that erratic tattoo he’d never been able to stop any more than he could stop that breathless spiraling out of control feeling that swept over him when that demon was around.

  “Are you okay?” the man asked in a low timbre that was smooth and darkly sexy.

  “Y-yes.” Easy, he warned himself. Stay cool.

  “Are you sure? You look a little shaken,” the guest said.

  “Uh. Sorry. I should have been watching where I was going,” Baylee said and disentangled himself.

  “No. It’s no big deal as long as you’re okay,” he replied.

  “I am, thanks,” he said. He turned and walked away as quickly as he could and almost ran into Parker.

  “Hey,” Parker said. “You ready?”

  “Yeah.” He could use something a little stiffer to calm his rattled nerves. “Why don’t we go?” Baylee glanced back to see if the demon was watching him. He prayed the demon saw nothing in his face to remind him of the man he’d mated.

  Chapter Two

  Kirkyn turned away though he drew in the air, allowing the delicate scent of water lilies to fill him. The scent was pure, unlike any essential oil that it could be made of. And it was fresh and intriguing, but he didn’t look back.

  He just continued to savor it, wishing he could bottle it, because it always lifted his spirits when he was down.

  “Are you ready to go?” his assistant, Astarte, asked. Her almond-shaped brown eyes were cool as always. She was a hunter demon. The species was always attached to a powerful family as security. Most stayed with the same family forever, while others allied themselves with organizations much as mercenaries.

  Astarte’s family had been with his for three hundred years, and the loyalty ran deep and true. Kirkyn knew why his uncle had attached her to his small unit after his mate had run from him.

  She was strong and capable of doing what had to be done to prevent him from exposing the family as demons if necessary.

  She carried a set of tranquilizers that would not only paralyze him but keep him heavily sedated until family could retrieve him.

  “Where is Snevil?”

  “He’s coming,” she said. “He was getting some intel from Baraq.”

  As if on cue, the attractive blond with the startlingly blue eyes joined them, shades in hand. Snevil wore his shades more as a fashion statement, while Kirkyn wore his as protection against the sun. He wore sunscreen especially made for their demon skin as a shield against the sun’s harmful rays.

  He would burn on summer days due to his sensitive skin. He was a pure demon with no human blood or DNA, which had meant the allergy to intense sunlight that was carried by his father’s side of the family had been perpetuated in him.

  His gray spade and shadow spade forefathers had learned to adapt to this realm after being outed from their own for being freaks—incubus. They were a lowly demon there and got little respect for their hungers to feed, especially off humans.

  “You forgot these,” Snevil said, holding the shades out to him.

  “Thank you.” It was a cloudy day, but he rarely went out without the protection for his eyes. They could become swollen shut if he looked directly into the sun.

  “We can stop at that little coffee shop down the street and go over the intel before deciding on our next move,” Astarte suggested.

  “We’re going to meet this Drinzel and his right-hand there in fifteen minutes,” Kirkyn told them. “So, we don’t have time to go over the file thoroughly.”

  “Do you think he’ll comply?” Astarte asked. “I’d hate to alert Bancoo of our presence so soon. We need to at least get the lay of the land before we have to strike out blind.”

  “I know what you mean, but there is a chance Drinzel will decide to align himself with Bancoo out of stupidity or the assumption that he can take him.”

  “That could already have occurred,” Kirkyn murmured as they climbed into the truck they’d bought on arriving in town. It would be used for driving home rather than flying. He hated flying. “So, keep your eyes open. Anything pertinent on Drinzel from our database or from Wayfaire?”

  Astarte started the vehicle after they’d all put on their seatbelts.

  “Quick stats,” Snevil began, “He’s an American bred of a low-level pleasure demon mother and human father. In fact, there are only two pure-bloods in his family.”

  “He’s not a night stalker or a death stalker?”

  “No. He gives the impression of being a death stalker, but he’s not,” Snevil replied. “According to our database, the mother put him in military school, and he served five years in the service before joining Simmer’s organization.”

  “Any history of true violence?”

  “Not like you mean,” Snevil replied. “There are no flags on him, but the pleasure demon isn’t known for loyalty to anyone but his own. So, if this guy thinks you’re there to take from him, and I’m sure he will, then he’s going to side with Bancoo.”

  “Tell Baraq to contact the local water sprites as well as tree sprites. I want them on board before the gnomes have a chance to get their hooks into the land,” Kirkyn ordered.

  “We’ll do better with the wood nymphs,” Astarte said, keeping her tone non-confrontational. “They can do battle, whereas the sprites might not be as sturdy or powerful.”

  “You heard the lady,” Kirkyn said, and Snevil snickered.

  “Shut up, jerk,” Astarte muttered.

  Kirkyn knew the guys didn’t consider her as anything other than one of them. She wasn’t a girl or a woman, but a warrior dude.

  * * * *

  Drinzel studied the file on the demon who’d approached him. It was nearly empty, which meant there was nothing to substantiate what the demon had said about himself.

  “I tapped a few sources, and the word on the street is that Bancoo is a pestilence demon looking to take over.”

  “That could have been spread by Wayfaire,” Drinzel commented.

  “He’d have nothing to gain by that,” Kamoa retorted. “He’s an honest demon, more or less. If he’s spreading this rumor, then I’d say we need to take heed.”

  “I’m not giving up my territory to anyone,” Drinzel said. “I’ve earned the right to rule here, and that Council has no right to tell me I have to allow someone else to come in here and take over.”

  “We should hear him out before passing judgement,” she suggested. “The fact is, if the rumor is true, we’re going to be in a fight for our lives against this demon.”

  “Get more information on him,” he ordered tightly. He wasn’t going to lose the city or the other parish that had fallen into his hands. He had the mayors in his pocket, and with Simmer out of the way, he could have a nice life here.

  His club was thriving, and the dude ranch was coming along nicely. He didn’t want to rule the world. He just wanted to have a better life than he’d had growing up. What was so wrong with that?

  Being a whore’s son had gotten him ridiculed and abandoned by his father. Drinzel wanted more for his own life, for the family he planned on starting.

  “Still, we have our own issues with Wayfaire,” he said quietly. “He’s not going to let the club stand any longer than he has to. I’m sure he knows by now some of what goes on there.”

  Kamoa gave him a considering look. “You aren’t thinking this Bancoo guy would be a better ally? He’ll want to take our territory on for his own.”

  “I can handle him,” he snapped. “In fact, if I play my cards right, I can convince him that Wayfaire is a probl
em. He can have his lands and leave mine alone.”

  Kamoa’s stare was all doubt. “I don’t think he’s a demon we should pick a fight with. He’s not in the national registry of demons, and you know pretty much every demon is. That only means one thing, Drin,” she said. “He’s from another realm.”

  “Get some real facts,” he ordered her. “I want to know exactly what I’m dealing with. Put someone on him.”

  “I’ve done it,” she muttered. “But he can’t get close.”

  “Put a woman on him then. Even demons like to fuck.”

  * * * *

  Kirkyn glanced across the coffee shop to find the lithe man from the hotel having coffee with the guy from the shop where construction was going on. The blond wasn’t human, he could smell it like beer wafting off a drunk frat boy.

  If he remembered correctly from his own travels, the construction worker was demon. They were called ghosts, because it was damn near impossible to pick up their vibrations or their scents unless you were other like them.

  And as a gray spade shadow demon, Kirkyn was different and had the senses to pick them up.

  They were the servants, infiltrators trained to corrupt, to twist minds, to taint the good and turn them against their own. This small core of elite soldiers worked for and answered to only the leaders.

  Where there was one, there was a small team. That meant Bancoo was planning to take over the hotel and its surrounding property.

  “Astarte,” he said quietly as the demon looked his way.

  “Yes?”

  Kirkyn tipped his head to him, and the demon gave him a faint smile before turning back to his date.

  “Do a search on the hotel’s crew,” Kirkyn said, suppressing the anger rumbling to life inside him. “I want to know everything from their mothers’ maiden names and their demonic type, to when they shitted last.”

  “That could be messy,” Snevil teased, and she gave him the finger.

  “What are you looking for?” Astarte asked with a frown. “And why do you think the sprites would employ demons? Freshwaters don’t often work with them.”