“Later,” she called as she drifted upward, light as a child’s balloon. A song tingled in her lungs, bubbling up through her mouth. An old, old ditty passed down through the generations, one that lured the wisps like a siren’s song at sea.
Which meant one was nearby.
April held the notes in her mouth and chest. She had to ensure there wasn’t a cluster of them. Her lungs were near bursting by the time she spotted it.
Cobalt blue flames licked the night air. The green heart of the trapped soul flickered and glowed in time to its beating pulse. Bright, dim, dim, bright.
April opened her mouth and let the musical notes escape. Fairy bell–clear, they chimed in the Gulf breeze. The orb of light bent in her direction, as if the wind pushed it toward the music. She hovered midflight, wings flapping. The wisp slowly stretched and strained, moving toward her.
She guided it to Chulah, who was alert and prepared to strike, slingshot at the ready. His eyes widened as he spotted the wisp behind her. Quickly, April flew up and out of the path of the rock.
Bull’s-eye.
High-pitched wailing filled the darkness like a banshee. The wisp’s light collapsed in upon itself and extinguished, sending wisps of smoke upward in spirals.
The green heart transformed to a pure white light. It skittered like a five-year-old jumping out of sheer joy and pleasure.
An image of an elder chieftain washed through her mind—a wrinkled, dignified face framed with feathers in his hair. An old soul at last free to cross over to the After Life.
A tinge of disappointment gnawed at April. How nice it would have been if the soul happened to be the councilman the Fae sought. Ha. As if her luck would ever amount to that.
“You there, April?”
She touched the crystal at her throat and drifted down, solid, human legs touching ground. “Here. We make a great team, don’t we?”
“So far, so good.”
Gaining his complete trust wasn’t going to be easy. But she was up for the challenge, and the hardest part was won.
April crossed her fingers behind her back for luck.
Chapter 8
April frowned and tapped a foot impatiently. There had been no sharing of Chulah’s tent last night. Which freaking disappointed the hell out of her. For a whole week, she’d been careful not to touch or tempt him, to prove that she wasn’t casting enchantments. And still he’d made no move to reach out to her first.
“What’s got you all twitchy this morning?” Steven asked with a wry smile. He picked up a dust rag and swiped the countertop for the millionth time.
“You know, at some point we’re going to have to actually open this damn place to the public.” She flinched as he tossed her the rag, grabbing it awkwardly a millisecond before it slapped her in the face.
“Until then act busy, in case someone wanders in,” he warned. “We have to maintain appearances and behave like we have a credible reason for being in Bayou La Siryna.”
Not really, not now that Chulah had agreed to help them. But unfortunately, she had nothing better to do this morning. Lazily, she walked up and down the aisles. Not how she envisioned this morning. She had thought to spend the day lying in Chulah’s tent—or at least his bed in the cabin. But no, he claimed to need a few hours’ sleep before working at his motorcycle shop.
The fate of the world was at stake and he wanted to work. She could hardly expect him to drop the entire routine of his life for a woman he’d met a week ago. Not even a real woman either.
A fairy.
“Bet you haven’t had breakfast,” Steven observed. “Saw you came in at the wee light of dawn. But I knew you were out hunting with Chulah again, so I didn’t worry about you last night.”
Irritation flared in her gut. She could take care of herself without his snooping around and watching her. No doubt reporting everything to the Council.
“As long as you’re in human form,” he continued, “you need to do certain things like eat and sleep or your frail body will collapse.”
“How do you know so much about it?” she asked, trying to keep her patience.
“I’ve been around,” he answered vaguely. “There’s a pot of grits on the stove and milk in the fridge. Maybe with a full belly, you’ll stop your grousing.”
She reckoned it couldn’t hurt. April entered the break room with its small kitchenette and dutifully served up a bowl of grits and poured a glass of tap water. She took a large swallow.
“Bleh.” How could water taste so bad? It had a coppery, chemical tang with no nectar sweetness. She banged the glass on the table. Maybe the grits would be better. She scooped a spoonful and ate. Double bleh. Felt like a mouthful of sand.
“You’ve much to learn about human cuisine.” Steven barged in and bustled about the kitchenette. He placed a dollop of butter in her bowl. “Now try the grits.”
April frowned but determinedly forced another spoonful down her throat. “Whoa. This is a million times better.”
“Wash it down with fresh milk,” he said, setting a glass by her bowl.
Dutifully, she took a sip. “It’s better than the water.”
“Hold on.” He rummaged in a cupboard and returned with a box, spooning out brown powder and stirring it in her glass. “Now try.”
She took a delicate sip. What. The. Fairy. April closed her eyes, savoring the sweet goodness. “What was that brown stuff?”
“Powdered chocolate.”
“I want to put it on everything from here on out.”
“It doesn’t go with everything,” he cautioned.
April regarded him suspiciously. “You lie.”
Steven threw back his head and laughed. “Try it for yourself.”
April’s mood improved, a result of Steven’s companionship and a side effect of sugar goodness. “Seriously. How did you get picked for this job? Most fairies want as little to do with the human world as possible. Yet I can tell you’re accustomed to their realm, that you’ve spent a fair amount of time here.”
Steven sat across from her and nibbled on a cookie. “I’m almost as much at home with humans as fairies. Not surprising.”
“It is to me. I’ve never known anyone else like you.”
“Why shouldn’t I be comfortable between the worlds? My father is human and my mother Fae. Just like yours. As halflings, we’re the best suited for this mission.”
“Is that the only reason we were chosen?” she asked wistfully. It would be nice to have been picked for her brains or her abilities.
Steven put down the cookie and swallowed a bit of her chocolate milk. “I thought you knew.”
She shook her head and sighed. His words only confirmed what she’d guessed.
Steven scraped back a chair and stared. “The pure Fae are unable to live in flesh and blood for more than a day or two.”
“And to think I went before the Council and queen and begged them for the chance to come here.”
“Oh, no. There was never any doubt that you would be the one chosen to be in the world.”
She blushed to think of how she’d practically lain prostrate at the Council members’ feet, desperate to be granted human form and contact Chulah. How they must have laughed behind their sleeves the whole time she pleaded for the opportunity.
He covered her hands with his own. “You are special. Don’t let them destroy your spirit. I know how you feel. All my life, they’ve made me feel inferior for my halfling heritage.”
“Halfling.” She gave a bitter laugh and pulled her hands from his. His pity was worse than his gruffness. “I’m so sick of that word.”
“It doesn’t matter.” His voice lowered, turned coaxing. “C’mon, April. They’re ignorant. We can’t help who we are. We had no say in the matter.”
Impure. Halflings. They didn’t belong in either world. Humans didn’t believe in their existence and the Fae only regarded them as creatures to be used.
“How many others are like us?” she asked curiously. She’
d never known another besides herself.
“Only a handful. Some have renounced the Fae realm and pass for human in their land. But if the Fae catch you trying to do it, you could be in a lot of trouble.”
“Is that what you’ve done? Renounced your Fae nature?”
“Not totally. As long as I provide them a valuable service, the Fae begrudgingly allow me to pass between the worlds at my own risk.”
The meal settled heavy in her stomach and she pushed away the plate, reliving all the old memories. Her mother didn’t want her, had deserted her infant daughter in the Fae realm knowing that they would never accept a halfling. Maybe her mother scorned her, too. Her biological father might not even be aware of her existence.
Other, more insidious thoughts wormed around her brain. Maybe she was destined to be like her mother. No wonder she’d been drawn to Chulah. Half of her biological body craved physical contact with a male human, and her spirit longed, like a human’s, for a loving, accepting mate. Chulah had only happened to be in the right place at the right time, and she’d fixated on the man.
In the end, he would reject her like everyone else.
“I’ve been a fool,” April said, twisting the words past the cramping pain in her throat. “I was so sure I could find my mother, win the love of Chulah, and gain the admiration of the Fae and the shadow hunters.”
Steven smiled wryly. “Hardly realistic.”
“So what can I realistically hope for? Can Chulah eventually convince the other hunters to help my—” she ground out a barking laugh, had started to say my kind but realized she didn’t have a kind “—that is, to help the Fae against a common enemy?” April scraped the chair back from the table and paced the claustrophobic room, seething. It was so clear now. No matter what she did, the Fae would never accept her. “And if we succeed at defeating Hoklonote...what then? Stay in the Fae realm and be treated like trash? That’s no life.”
“It’s not so bad. You get used to it.” Steven bent his head, gazed at his clasped fingers. “They mostly ignore me, and I come and go as I please.”
April pulled out a chair and sat next to him. “But are you truly happy?”
“I’m...content. Most of the time.”
“Sounds lonely to me.”
He lifted his head, settled his smoky gray eyes upon hers. “There’s always hope. I have my dreams.”
April waited. “What are your dreams?” she finally prompted.
His fingers drummed the table and still she waited for an answer. She wouldn’t ask again.
“Like anyone, I’d love to find a mate,” he said slowly.
“You should.” April nodded vigorously. “Absolutely. Surely there’s someone for everyone. Another halfling, perhaps?”
He said nothing, but sorrow and longing pinched his features. Steven stared at her like she was the essence of nectar in an unearthly beautiful flower.
Oh, no. So that was how it was for him.
He stroked her hand, his thumb tracing circles inside her palm. His touch glided upward, past her forearm and up her shoulder, at last cupping the side of her neck. It wasn’t the thunderbolt touch of Chulah, but it was warm and sweet.
“What are you doing?” April asked weakly.
Steven pulled back. “I’ve spoken too soon. You still imagine you love Chulah.”
“I do—” April stopped. What did she really know of love? Only that she wanted it. She rubbed her forehead, sighing. “I’m confused.”
“Of course you are.” He stood and patted her shoulder. “I’ve bumbled my way this morning, blurting out things you weren’t ready to hear. Forgive me.”
“There’s nothing to forgive. Don’t apologize for speaking the truth.” She bit her lip, sorry she couldn’t offer Steven more comfort. A bit of hope. If only she could learn to love him...
It would be the perfect solution to their mutual loneliness. A little love would be better than none at all. But she could muster no enthusiasm at the prospect. April shut her eyes, remembering Chulah’s kiss, the feel of his arms wrapped around her body.
No one else could ever do.
Her lips trembled and she firmly clamped them shut, fought back the rise of tears. Steven didn’t deserve to see her cry over another man.
But when she opened her eyes, Steven had vanished.
* * *
Chulah dropped a wrench on his big toe. “Son of a—”
“Whoa, boss.”
Chulah slid out on the mechanical creeper board and glared at J.B. “As if I don’t hear you cussin’ like that a thousand times a day.”
“Yeah, but I ain’t the Man.” J.B. hooked his thumbs in his overalls and winked, the fat folds of his triple chin wobbling with mirth. “Must be lack of sleep got ya grumpy. Hear tell you been busy most nights with that new chick in town. A hot blonde.”
Chulah’s annoyance deepened. “Maybe you should pay more attention to your own business, Slim.”
“Mine ain’t near as interestin’ as yours, though.” J.B.’s grin grew broader.
They’d known each other since they were knee-high to a possum and Chulah had never seen him get riled. He always reacted to any barb with a good-natured grin.
J.B. held out a cold water bottle. “Figured you might have worked up a righteous thirst, hard as you been at it today.”
“Thanks, man.” Chulah gulped down half the bottle, swiping his mouth as he came up for air.
“Seriously, boss. Why don’t you knock off early this afternoon? We’re all caught up round here. I’ll finish up Linc’s Honda Shadow here for ya. Go home and catch up on some shut-eye.”
An excellent idea. Chulah rubbed the back of his neck where he’d kept a lack-of-sleep headache. Hunting nights with April and then working all day at the shop were getting to him. It had been almost a week and there was still no sign of Hoklonote.
Just as worrisome, a change had come over April. She’d grown distant. They’d worked together, finding the occasional wisp and releasing its spirit. But in all their nights together, she hadn’t once tempted him to kiss her by touching his arm or bestowing on him her innocent-yet-sexy smiles.
Why should she? April got what she wanted. He’d gone out on a limb and helped her. There was no more need for seduction and pretense to persuade him to get her way.
He should be glad.
They each had a job to do. A fling would only interrupt their concentration.
Chulah left the shop with its smell of brake fluid and grease and hopped on his motorcycle. As he sped down the road, the crisp air invigorated his weary mind and body. Somewhere along the familiar path toward home, he took a detour and found himself downtown by the Pixie Land store.
Chagrined, he parked the bike and headed to the door. Can’t leave well enough alone, can you? If April’s upset about something, that’s her own business.
Right.
Bells tinkled a warning as he entered. Damn if the place didn’t smell of violets. And what the hell was the matter with him? Since when had he ever been so enamored with the scent of flowers?
Like never.
Chulah straightened his shoulders. He was here to discover what was wrong with April. It was only for the good of their partnership. Maybe there was some crucial element about their mission that she was withholding for fear of losing his cooperation.
A flash of red beard shone in the mirrored shelves, fragmented and bright. Steven emerged from the back of the room. “Oh, it’s you,” he said flatly, halting momentarily before walking behind the cash register.
“Good to see you, too.” So much for the small talk. “April home?”
“No.” Steven opened an account ledger and promptly ignored him.
“Mind if I take a look for myself?” Without waiting for an answer, Chulah walked past him and bounded up the stairs.
“Suit yourself,” Steven called to his retreating figure.
Chulah rapped on her apartment door. “April?” Knocked again, louder.
But there was
no response and no noise to indicate she was home. So Steven had told the truth. Chulah trod back down to the main floor and stood in front of the counter. “Any idea where she went?”
The man refused to look up from his ledger. “Not a clue.”
Chulah closed the book and Steven at last raised his face. “Have you got a problem with me?”
His face turned almost as red as his beard. “No.”
“So you’re just rude to every potential customer who walks in the store?”
His mouth twisted. “Only the ones who run around with April at all hours of the night doing who knows what.”
“She always let you know where she’s going and when to expect her back,” Chulah said sharply. “Kinda ballsy of you to make that comment.”
Steven drew himself up stiffly, although he was still a good foot shorter than Chulah. “I’m supposed to be her guardian while she’s here.”
More like the Fae’s spy on April, he suspected. “Even so, her private life is none of your business. Unless...” Chulah stopped short. “You’ve got a thing for April, don’t you?”
“And that is none of your business.”
Aha. No wonder he was such an ass at their first meeting. A frisson of doubt niggled at Chulah. April claimed to have loved and watched him for years, but maybe she had feelings for this strange little dude as well. “How long have you known April?”
Steven crossed his arms. “Long enough.”
Chulah nodded at the stone Steven wore around his neck, identical to the one April wore. “Are all the Fae as annoying as you?”
“Don’t call me Fae. I’m a halfling. Like April. Only difference between us is that she actually cares that the rest of the Fae look down on her. As for me, I’m content to go my own way.”
He lied. Of course he cared, but Chulah didn’t call him out on it. “Women are more sensitive than we are. Guess that holds true for humans as well as fairies.”
Steven nodded and some of the hostility melted from his sharp eyes and stubborn chin. “She’s been moody all week. I kinda made her face some hard truths on why she’s even here in the first place. She deluded herself into believing the Council had picked her special for this mission. She’d secretly hoped to win you and the other shadow hunters’ allegiance and then climb her way into acceptance with the Fae.” He snorted. “A foolish dream.”
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