He lifted into the air out of reach. “I’ve got to go.”
I gaped at him as he disappeared into the vent, leaving me with an itch I had no way of scratching.
In a fit of anger, I grabbed my pillow and flung it at the wall before dropping my head on the bed. I fought the urge to cry. Pixie dust was the worst.
Alches made a rumbling sound.
“Don’t laugh,” I warned him.
That was the last thing I needed; for a guardian of a Fae realm to find my plight amusing.
“I don’t suppose you have a solution,” I asked as the prickling sensation deepened, edging into real pain.
Alches rose, hopping off the bed. He stretched first his back legs and then his front before he shook his body all over. Finished, he plopped onto his butt and yawned, showing me a row of very sharp teeth and a mass of swarming tentacles.
“Very nice,” I told him, not meaning it. “If you didn’t know, you could have just said.”
Some guardian he was. He couldn’t even do something as simple as this.
I glanced at the book lying on my dresser. Maybe the sentient Fae artifact would have a clue. I’d picked it up from a magical library a while back. Since then, it had been mildly helpful on occasion.
Alches finished yawning, his eyes getting a suspicious gleam.
“No,” I warned with a sinking feeling. “What are you doing?”
His maw opened, tentacles snapping out to wrap around the artifact.
“Stop!” I screamed. “Don’t you dare!”
Too late, as his tentacles dumped the artifact down his throat. Alches belched as I watched him in wordless dismay.
The book was not going to like that.
I threw my covers back and got out of bed to kneel in front of him. “Spit it out. Spit it out right now.”
Panic filled me as Alches evaded my hands.
I didn’t know the long-term effects an artifact would have on a realm guardian that ate it, but I was betting they wouldn’t be good.
“That’s an artifact, you dumb dog.” I took a breath. “I’m going to count to three and you’re going to spit the book out.”
Alches tilted his head, looking adorable with his wide snout and wrinkly face.
“One. Two.”
Alches’s eyes laughed at me.
“Two and a half,” I said through gritted teeth.
Alches rose to four paws, a brief hope filling me before it died a quick death. He padded toward my dresser. The shadows there wrapped around him as he vanished from view.
I slumped on the bed. “Damn it. I should have known that wouldn’t work. Now what do I do?”
I was out of options and it felt like shards of glass were embedded in my skin. Little zings of electric pain zipped down my nerve endings every other second.
This was so annoying.
As a teen I’d had eczema. This felt a little like that. Only about a hundred times worse.
