Deborah yelped, coming to her feet in an abrupt move that sent her chair slide across the room. She stared down at the island in confused horror as Inara shoved herself to her feet. The pixie was covered in tufts of a pink cotton candy looking fuzz, her face tight with suppressed fury.
“Did you know?” Inara asked me with a threatening growl.
I bit my lip, trying very hard not to laugh.
“What is that?” Deborah shouted, interrupting. “Is that a pixie? For real?”
“Know what?” I asked, ignoring the human.
The barest hint of a snicker slipped out before I composed myself.
Don’t smile. She’ll kill you if you smile.
“You did know,” Inara snarled.
I set an elbow on the counter as Deborah went very still, finally coming to the realization that the pixie and I knew each other.
“You mean about the traps Thomas had installed throughout the air ducts?” I propped my chin on my hand and raised my eyebrows at Inara, unbothered by her sharp inhale of rage. I shook my head with fake regret. “Nope. No clue.”
I straightened from the island, not wanting to chance the pixie taking it into her head to stab me in the eye.
She’d tried it before.
I shot her a pointed look. “I guess he wasn’t as unaware of your passage as you thought.”
Maybe this would be a lesson for her. As sneaky as she and Lowen were, they weren’t infallible. At least this time the traps were non-lethal. Next time, she might not be so lucky.
Inara trembled from the force of her anger, looking like she might levitate off the counter at any moment.
Or explode. It could really go either way.
Inara tried to move her wings, her frustration deepening when they only partially flexed. The cotton candy fluff restricted their opening and closing, limiting her mobility. I was betting that was the reason she’d crashed into Deborah’s bowl.
“When did you get a human?” Lowen asked, dropping onto Deborah’s shoulder out of nowhere.
Deborah’s screech made everyone in the room flinch.
Lowen darted out of the way as Deborah flailed in a circle while slapping at her shoulder.
“Deborah, stop,” I yelled. “He’s not on you anymore. Stop hitting yourself.”
Deborah wasn’t listening. By this point, she’d added full body shimmies to her repertoire as she hopped up and down.
“Deborah,” I said again. “Enough!”
My shout got through to the human. She finally stopped.
“Your screaming was beginning to irritate me,” I explained at her questioning look.
It was like she’d never met a supernatural before.
“She’s not as bad as you the first time you saw us,” Inara drawled. “Or do you not remember your own dance.”
“Bullshit. I never screamed like that.”
My panic at finding a pixie in my apartment had involved a cinnamon binge instead. The spice was a known allergen to pixies. I’d scattered it over every available surface in hopes they’d be forced relocate.
Much to my dismay, it hadn’t worked. Instead, my house had smelled like a cinnamon roll for months.
