I wasn’t sure if they couldn’t smell the skeet like I could or if they simply didn’t know what one smelled like to recognize the scent. Regardless, my fur fluffed up when the skeets began moving. They wouldn’t get away from me this time! I would not allow them to injure my tribe. Keeping Wendall and everyone else safe was more important than risking a stern talking-to.
“Fairy… But that could mean they’re dangerous,” Ruthie said.
“I believe that is what has the scuttlebutt so concerned.” Aurelia seemed to be the only one that understood.
I let instinct take over. Scrambling over Ruthie’s lap, I used the table to launch myself at the wall. The sound of clothes shredding filled my ears as Dillon and Ruthie followed my lead, transforming into their furry halves. Shouts of alarm and censure sounded around us. I couldn’t let them distract me. I was hunting skeets!
The skeets took off, running in the same direction. I slid down the wall only to land on Ruthie’s back. Her dire wolf form was huge. Digging my claws into her fur, I latched on tight. I wasn’t sure what it was about their wolf forms, but Ruthie and Dillon now seemed able to find the skeets.
Dillon howled, long and deep before leaping over a chair, slipping under a table—toppling it over and crashing to the floor. Bodies scrambled out of our way as we raced through the bar.
The skeets separated, one going low and the other high. Loosening my hold on Ruthie’s fur, I jumped back onto the wall, scrambling up the surface as I chased the skeet down. It made a mistake, heading to a corner where there was no hole. Whipping around, the skeet hissed, baring its needle-sharp teeth. Three tails lashed out at me, and I dodged and weaved, leaping from one wall to the other as I avoided the poisonous barbs at the end of those tails.
The skeet shifted and threw its tails wide, sailing over my body. It reared up on its four rear legs, exposing its fleshy underbelly. Ducking low, I went in for the kill. Opening my mouth wide, I chomped down, catching the skeet in its middle. The satisfying crunch of its small bones was music to my ears. The blood slipping down my throat and coating my fur was an added delicacy to the juicy meat settling inside my belly.
Bloody carnage stained the corner of the wall. I wanted to take time to relish my victory, but we still had another skeet on the loose. I used my vantage point to view the scene. If the situation had been different, it would have been humorous.
Broken tables and chairs littered the floor like so much splintered wood. Broken glasses and their fluid lay on the floor, creating pools of shimmering dampness. All the pixies were in the air. Phlox was in his Pallas’s cat form, his pixie wings fluttering madly as he stayed aloft. The vampires had all transformed, their elongated fingers tipped with deadly talons and their eyes bled crimson. Alpha Voss was partially transformed but kept his bipedal form as he stared at his niece and nephew, a low growl rumbling from deep within his chest.
Ray was in his warrior fairy glory. Wings of fire filled the air while he held his blazing sword aloft. Wendall was by his side. He’d been practicing and had more control over his own wings of water. They undulated and broke like the tide.
And there, in a corner on the other side of the room, wasthe remaining skeet. Parsnip, Phil, and Peaches flew over the top of it, scattering their dust. The dust hit the skeet, outlining its shape before the dust faded. The pixies were pointing at the hissing thing, adding to the cacophony of noise.
Scrambling down the wall, I ran as fast as I could. Dillon and Ruthie were dangerously close. If the skeet got them with its poison, it could prove fatal. I would not lose a member of my tribe.
Slipping around and between legs and feet, I skittered to a stop just in front of Dillon’s nose, slapping it back with my tail. I twisted and madly chittered at him, bullying him into backing up. Dillon let loose a low growl. I didn’t want to fight him, but I would if that would keep him safe.
“Alpha Voss, tell Dillon and Ruthie to back away.” Ray’s cool, controlled voice slid through the mayhem. “Tell them to do it now.”
Sedrick didn’t question the order. Words little more than a growl, Sedrick used his alpha voice. “Dillon. Ruthie. Stand down, and come to me.”
Dillon flipped his head from side to side.
“Now.” Authority dripped from those three letters.
Dillon crouched low and slunk to his alpha. Ruthie acted similar though not as subservient.
“You know what that thing is?” Warlock Kines asked Ray.
“It is a skeet and is of Fairy.”
“Then what the fuck is it doing here?” Phlox asked. He’d transformed back into his pixie form.
“I do not know,” Ray answered. He remained in his warrior attire but pulled his wings in and dowsed his fiery sword.
King Moony didn’t sound impressed. “The how is currently unimportant. Despite its minuscule size, Hellfire Rayburn appears concerned. Therefore, I am inclined to sharethat concern.”
The skeet continued hissing and spatting, swinging its tails and jabbing the air with their poisonous tips. It could dart up the wall any minute. I’d follow but didn’t relish the thought of doing so again.
“I’ve heard Aunt Silvidia mention them before. Didn’t she ask the Master of Beasts to take care of a nest?” Wendall moved closer, and I barked at him to stay back.
“You heard correctly. Skeets are very dangerous. Their poison can—and has—killed fairy children. Adult fairies survive their sting, but it can take well over a century to truly heal.”
“Well, shit.” Vander lifted his hands, and sigils appeared in the air. Speaking a language I didn’t understand, Vander slammed his hand into the sigils, and they flew forward, surrounding the skeet. “I trapped the thing, but it won’t last forever. How do we get rid of it?”
“I believe you have what you require.” Aurelia crouched beside the skeet, poking at Vander’s shield with her finger. “The scuttlebutt has already eliminated one.”
“There was another one?” Parsnip asked. “Goddess, how many of these things are here?” He twirled in the air as if trying to find more.
