For a Pixie in Blue

by Cecilia Randell

  He tsked at Vivi, and the cub looked over at him but didn’t leap as she normally would have.

  They’d been very well behaved so far. Their understanding of the delicacy of the situation was amazing; either that or they were simply growing accustomed to the general tension permeating everything. Vivi gave a little chirp and then stalked back to where her brother sat watching Phillip. The boy cub’s claws flexed once and then retracted.

  Yeah, these cubs definitely had a high understanding of the situation. They had figured out that to be around Blue and Forrest, they had to tolerate Phillip, but they still knew him for the threat he was.

  With a rustle, Blue emerged from behind the screen, and all breath left Felix.

  He’d thought her pretty, in a cute way, and admired her courage. He enjoyed her smiles and her positive outlook.

  Now he saw her as beautiful.

  Whoever had selected the dress had known what they were doing. The deep blue emphasized her eyes and the streaks in her hair. Those were a little lighter now and her natural color was coming in at the roots, but it didn’t matter. The attendant must have secured it back somehow because only a few tendrils were loose; the rest was twisted into some kind of complicated bun.

  She stepped forward, and small stones sewn to the skirt twinkled.

  She looks like...

  He swallowed.

  She looked like royalty.

  She looked like someone his parents would welcome into their circle.

  Beside him, Phillip jerked away from the wall and took a few quick steps toward her before stopping short. “Blue,” he said, and the same awe that Felix felt echoed in his voice.

  It snapped Felix out of his daze.

  It also struck something in him; he could understand Phillip, at least a little. Felix would protect Blue from the monster her old friend had become, but in another life, in another time, would Felix have been any better?

  What right do I have to this woman?

  And those were the words of an old hurt that no longer mattered.

  He pushed off from the wall and adjusted his armor. “Ready?” The word was curt, and he knew he should try to smile for her, but he couldn’t, not in that moment.

  Her gaze jerked to his, and her eyes narrowed. When her upper lip curled into a sneer, he saw it for what it really was—she was sending him a mini-snarl, a message, and his own lips twitched in response.

  Then Garfield let out a squeaky growl and swiped in his direction with a paw, claws sheathed.

  Felix let out a harsh laugh.

  The attendant looked as though they were crazy, and Phillip wore a smug smile.

  But Felix knew. That snarl was all for him. And it was enough for now.

  Schooling his features once again into neutral, he gestured to the door. “We go then. Time to meet new... hosts.”

  Phillip stepped past him and toward the door, his shoulder clipping Felix’s. Felix didn’t so much as sway.

  Blue gave him a small smile now that Phillip was turned away and gathered the leashes attached to the cubs’ harnesses. She only had to drag them a little. She stopped in front of Felix and held out handle loops. “Do you mind?”

  Felix took them, the tips of their fingers catching in the smallest of connections. “No.”

  She gave him one more smile and then joined Phillip. Her shoulders pulled back, and her chin went up.

  And Felix followed behind, leading the cubs along. He didn’t mind one bit.

  TREVON

  Trevon lowered the comm. This latest message wasn’t great, but it also wasn’t bad. It was just one more thing to take into consideration.

  The Oriun Family wanted to talk.

  He grimaced. Talk, such an innocuous word. It covered so many things. Talk.

  No, what they wanted to do was assess this latest move by the Padilrian government—and the Prizzoli—and see if there was any advantage to be gained from getting involved further. And also to decide if there was any advantage in supporting Trevon’s efforts to defy the Alliance in their edicts regarding the imprisonment of Blue. For it was imprisonment, no matter the wording of the official documents.

  His comm pinged.

  A conference has been called.

  Ian Finnegan this time. Trevon was almost certain he could gain the new family head’s support, as Finnegan knew the true repercussions of these crystals in the wrong hands. Trevon would just need to figure out a way to twist the exact support into his own favor—if Trevon were going to start a war, he would need to make it worth the other family’s while. Honor would only push them so far.

  But he could count on Finnegan to bring home the seriousness of the situation to the other families, at least. Though that could work against him if Ian decided the best course was to confine Phillip—and Blue—to the Prizzoli’s care.

  When? He sent.

  Two weeks.

  Trevon’s grip tightened on his device. Two weeks was not a lot of time. He still needed to ensure Blue was going to be secure here on Padilra. He didn’t trust the Padilrian government. They were a relatively new addition to the Alliance, and the fact that they had already threatened to withdraw without even hinting at talks or compromise indicated that they would have no problem with a war. And if they had no compunction about starting one, neither did he.

  He would ensure the problem was eliminated before it began. He’d never liked a bully.

  He smiled. His mind raced with lists of things to do: get his team in place ahead of time, talk to the other families and feel out where they stood—see which he could call in markers from—liaise with Demil and the Order, put pressure on Brendan Faust, get bribes in place for the Alliance senators, and...

  A squeaky growl came from the hall, muffled by the door, but he recognized it. Blue and her piquet. What would she say if she knew what he planned?

  His smile grew.

  Probably slap him and insist he find a better solution.

  What she didn’t realize was that he had to act, to challenge the current state of the Alliance. Not just for her, but to show the Padilrian government that they couldn’t simply push the other worlds around. The Alliance had grown dependent on the crystals exported for use in data and manufacturing—yes, Trevon saw the irony in this—and Padilra felt they could hold this over the other worlds. Well, he would call their bluff. If it was the Prizzoli putting the pressure on the Padilrian Parliament, then he would certainly call their bluff as well, crystal gods or no.

  Sometimes a man needed to take a stand.

  He headed for the door to the hall, tugging his cuffs into place. Time for the next few steps in this dance.

  MO’ATA

  Standing at the end of the hall while waiting for Blue to leave her room, Mo’ata had to resist the urge to hit something. Again.

  Blue needed his calm, not his anger.

  He shifted, the stiffness of the armored uniform he wore a stark contrast to the leather he’d grown used to in his role as War Chief.

  Beside him, Forrest wore a new set of armor that had been found for him. There hadn’t been time to have a custom set made, and the shoulders were a little big on the younger man, but he filled it out well.

  Forrest was much more than just a vestige of Blue’s life before Karran. The young man had barely known Blue when Mo’ata himself had first met her. And yet he’d been devoted even then.

  Just as Mo’ata had become.

  “I am glad you are here,” he said, keeping his gaze on the closed door opposite him, the door behind which Blue was changing. And the door behind which Phillip stood. His stomach twisted again with the thought of that monster so close to his shopa. Felix had entered with them, because of course they would never allow her anywhere alone with the boy, but it grated on him still.

  He wanted to take her and hide her from the world. When she’d accused him of wanting to wrap her in a “fluffy cloud blanket”, she had not been far wrong.

  It was one thing to train her and have her explore
and seek out new adventures, as she called them. It was something far different to have her stuck in a situation that seemed to have no good solution, a situation she had not signed up for. A situation where she was a mere pawn at the whims of a people who had no right to demand her help.

  “What?” Forrest broke into Mo’ata’s thoughts.

  “I am glad you are here. I am not sure I have said it yet. We have talked some, as when Zeynar arrived. But you also need to know that I appreciate you being here. For her.” He took a breath, blew it out, and finally looked at Forrest. He only had to look down a few inches. When had that happened? “There are two people I know I can trust. In all of this, you and I are the only ones I am sure do not carry ulterior motives or torn loyalties.”

  “I think you may be underestimating them. Even Jason and Zeynar.” The last words were uttered with a disgruntled tone. Forrest glanced between the door and Mo’ata and then leaned in close and lowered his voice. “Phillip, he… I’ve had to face a few truths. He’s not the friend I used to know. I’m not sure he was even before being connected to the crystal. And you’re right. I will do what I need to for Blue. Whatever that is.”

  Mo’ata’s gaze met the blue of Forrest’s, and he nodded, once. “When this is over and she is safe, we should go on a date.”

  Forrest’s eyes widened. “Uh, well... I mean, not that you’re not attractive, but I don—”

  “Dating is when you spend time with someone and get to know them, correct?”

  “Yes, I guess, though—” Forrest’s eyes narrowed. “You’re messing with me, aren’t you?”

  Mo’ata shrugged. “Maybe a little.” He shifted his stance a wider, finding a more comfortable distribution of weight. “I am learning to appreciate a judicious use of humor.”

  Forrest grinned. “Blue’s rubbing off on you, isn’t she?”

  Raising a brow, Moa’ta answered, “Maybe.”

  “Since you asked so nicely, then, how can I say no? When this is over, we’ll go on a bro-date. I’ll even let you pay, since I have no money here.” Forrest frowned, and Mo’ata suspected one more worry had been heaped on his shoulders.

  “When this is over, we will sort it out.” Mo’ata clasped his shoulder.

  “If it ends.”

  “It will.” His words were soft but harsh. Mo’ata refused to contemplate an end to this where Blue did not come away with him. He didn’t know how they would get to such an end, but it would happen.

  The door across from them opened, and Blue stepped through.

  Mo’ata’s breath caught, and beside him Forrest inhaled sharply.

  She was beautiful. He’d known that, but...

  The dress she wore brought out the streaks still in her hair and accentuated a slight glow to her skin. It skimmed her upper half and outlined her breasts before flaring out at the waist. It was a midnight color, and stones sparkled along the hem and sleeves.

  She looked like the night sky, like something untouchable and bright.

  She looked like...

  “Did Zeynar pick the dress?” Mo’ata could have kicked himself for the words. Why would he ask her something like that instead of telling her—

  “You look pretty,” Forrest said.

  Instead of telling her something like that.

  “You do, shopa. You look lovely.” He couldn’t quite keep the longing from his tone.

  Phillip stepped up beside her and threaded his arm around hers, pulling her into his side just a little. “It’s like the prom I never got to go to, huh, Fo?” He appeared relaxed and the smile on his face was easy, but there was a tightness to his shoulders that warned Mo’ata they needed to back off.

  “It sure is.” Forrest kept his tone easy as well, though he stood straighter.

  Blue shot Forrest a look Mo’ata couldn’t interpret, but there was probably something to this “prom” he should learn about.

  The pair stepped fully into the hall, and in that moment Mo’ata saw a different future. One where Blue had never come to Karran, where Phillip had never been connected to the crystal and corrupted—where Blue never loved him, and where he had never met her.

  A small sound, part groan, came from Forrest. The younger man’s eyes were trained on the couple as they turned to head to the end of the hall.

  Sometimes a person couldn’t change the past. But he could be grateful for the twists of fate.

  Felix stepped beside him holding the cubs’ leashes. They grumbled at his feet but weren’t being particularly hostile, which was a good indicator that Phillip was stable for the moment. A door two rooms down opened, and Trevon stepped into the hall, his dark suit both setting him apart and showing his unity with the others.

  “It never would have happened.” Forrest stepped away from the wall and bent to scratch Vivi behind the ear. “They never would have ended up together. Not unless he changed a lot.” He gave the cub one last rub and set off after Phillip and Blue.

  Mo’ata nodded to Felix and gestured. The mercenary followed after Forrest with Mo’ata and Trevon just behind him. Jason stepped from his room and fell in, bringing up the rear.

  Chapter 3

  BLUE

  Blue stood in the Grand Hall of the Padilrian Embassy. Columns of cream and gold marched down the sides of the room, and the ceiling arched above her in an echo of Earth cathedrals. Rainbows of light filtered through glass stained in reds, blues, and golds.

  She bowed, just as Levi had taught her—a precise thirty degrees, head bent to forty-five, with the left hand pressed flat to her chest, just over her breasts. She kept her gaze focused on the floor, not because protocol demanded it, but because she needed the moment to steady her thoughts. Something welled in the back of her throat, something that could have come out as either a scream or a laugh. Neither was ideal for this situation.

  And what a situation it was. There she stood, wearing a midnight gown, beads of crystal scattered across the skirt like stars, meeting delegates of the Padilrian government and of the Prizzoli. Phillip and Forrest flanked her on either side while Mo’ata, Jason, Felix, and Trevon were ranged behind her. And Levi, poor Levi, stood to one side with the Prizzoli delegation. Her gaze flicked in his direction. She could just make out his lower half and the clenched fists pressed into his thighs.

  The whole thing was pure insanity. It was like someone wanted Phillip to trigger and go crazy all over the place. Or maybe they were simply doing what she did, only on a grander scale, playing into crazy-boy’s delusions to keep him happy. This is how dictators are born. And because she had no choice, she went along with it.

  A throat cleared in front of her, and her gaze shot back to the floor, tracing along the swirls of gold in the cream stone.

  It was quite pretty.

  Fabric rustled as the Padilrian delegation straightened. She swallowed, loosening the tightness in her throat, and followed their lead. A man with the same dark skin as Levi, but with dark eyes too cold and calculating to be trusted, stepped forward. Clad in a moss-green coat cinched in at the waist and embellished with golden embroidery, he extended his right hand. “Blue Faust. I greet you.”

  Blue stepped forward and held out her hand. Behind her, Phillip made a low sound—part groan, part growl—and the man stiffened. She made a gesture with her free hand, cutting off Phillip as she clasped the delegate’s hand in her own.

  “Greetings, and may the light shine on your house.” The traditional words spilled from her lips in Common just as she’d practiced, clear and strong.

  The man’s grip tightened. “The light shine on your house.” He released her but didn’t step back. “I am Lord Elias. The Padilrian people welcome you to our home and hope that your stay with us is comfortable and productive.” His expression was as smooth as his voice, giving no hint of what he may be thinking.

  Blue suppressed her eye roll but couldn’t quite hold in her snort. It escaped as a small huff, and Elias’s mouth turned down for a brief moment.

  What you mean is you hope I
don’t kick up much of a fuss about my virtual imprisonment.

  The Padilrian delegation moved back, and the Prizzoli moved forward. Leading them was an older woman, her hair covered in a red cloth that matched her crimson robes. The material was the same as the jacket Levi had once lent to Blue, with symbols sewn into the hem and sleeves. Her expression was blank, much as Elias’s had been, the thin skin of her face stretching over bones and folding into spider-line wrinkles. She looked like a doll that would shatter at a touch.

  Blue bowed, just as she had before, this time bringing her right hand to her breast in the proper greeting to the Chief Elder. The woman returned the gesture, holding it for a bare second, and then straightened.

  “Greetings, Blue Faust.”

  They went through the same routine, but when Blue reached out to clasp hands with the Chief Elder—the only name given—Phillip surged forward, grasping Blue’s wrist and yanking her back.

  “No,” he said. “You don’t touch her.”

  The entire gathering pulled in a breath, sucking all the air from the room. Purple flickered in Phillip’s eyes, and Blue thought she caught an echo of it—paler—dancing in the elder’s.

  Crystals and gods and politics, oh my.

  “No,” Phillip said again, tugging her closer. This didn’t seem like the normal possessiveness. That was filled with arrogance. Now, Phillip’s eyes were wide, his face pale in fear. He was… protecting her?

  “Phi,” Blue said, laying a hand on his arm. “Phi, look at me.”

  Phillip didn’t take his gaze from the elder.

  “Phi, could you loosen your grip? My hand is starting to hurt.” Blue kept her voice gentle, using the coaxing tones that usually worked on him. He relaxed his hold but didn’t fully release her.

  “Don’t touch,” he whispered, his lips stiff.

  “I won’t,” she said.

  “Promise?”

  She patted his arm. “Promise. But we have to finish the greetings, okay?”