Page 53 of Pixie Problems
“What’s up, buttercup? What’s going on with you?” My Insight was steadily pulsing whenever I’d been around her lately, which often indicated depression. Lucky was usually bubbles and gossamer and giggles; not a black raincloud trailing after her and defeat in her eyes. She was totally allowed to be whatever she was feeling, but I hated to see her usual spunk and can-do attitude subdued.
Lucky’s lower lip trembled. My heart twanged and I squeezed her arm a little to let her know I was here for her. “I’m just—tired, Dice. I’m tried of getting up every day, telling myself that I’ve got this, I can have a good day, I can overcome the twisted leprechaun luck that makes everyday miserable, only to go to bed crying, failing completely and feeling utterly defeated.” She squeezed her eyes shut, and a silent tear traced down her face. “I try so hard,” she whispered. “But it never matters. I’m tired of being the butt of people’s jokes, of having people move away whenever I enter a room or walk down the street, tired of it affecting my dating life.” She whimpered. “I get it, I really do, but it hurts.”
Okay, my first thought? I was going to start kicking butts and taking names. My second was a silent plea for some bright idea to come to me that would let her know I was there for her, and that I wouldn’teverbe one of those people who made a wide berth around her because they were terrified her chaos was contagious. My grandpa always told me toshoot straight and say what you need to, so I tried that advice, hoping it would work.
“I don’t know what you’re going through, Lucky, but I promise to never ditch you, I will always stick up for you, and I will always be here for you. Even if I’ve got a lot going on in my life. I know depression and discouragement suck, and I know sometimes it feels like things won’t get better, but I promise they will. It might not be in the exact way that you think it will, but it will.” I squeezed her arm again.
Lucky sniffled and squeezed me back. My life had been so crazy lately with getting the apothecary ready for the grand opening and Hux’s pack coming after me, and then going into essentially Moonhaven’s very own protective witness protection, that my relationships had slid a bit. I couldn’t keep up with everything. I was just one small pixie. I needed about five more of me. But I vowed to myself that I would try, for my friends’ sakes, to be a little bit more present in their lives.
“You’re missing a certain pixie in your life, huh?” I teased, trying to lighten the morose mood we had going between the pair of us.
She chuckled. “Well, that goes without saying.”
I laughed. “Are you still watching Jeopardy at Nick’s house and yelling at the tv?
“Yes? Why?”
I grinned. “Just wanted to make sure that Nicky knows that even though you’re a leprechaun, you’re wicked smart.”
She scowled at me, and I busted up laughing. “Kidding! Kidding! You’re astonishingly brilliant, bodaciously clever, and feverishly fiendish, your highness. Please don’t hurt me.”
She snorted. “As if I can. I’ve seen you shoot two shifters like you were vying for the title offastest gun in the west.”
It was entirely possible I was, but I was a humble pixie, so I refrained from saying so.
Lucky, as though she could read my less-than-humble thoughts, shoved me slightly and said laughingly, “Dice! Humility is a virtue!”
“Yeah, it doesn’t tend to be a pixie virtue. I’m just saying.” I grinned innocently at her, and she rolled her eyes.
This is why pixies needed friends. They kept us grounded and humble.
I laughed and leaned back against the concrete wall at my back again. It was cold outside in just my piñata costume. I didn’t know how, but Lucky was warm and toasty and radiating heat, so I suctioned myself to her side, and let her warm me up.
And then I saw movement at the end of the dark alley, and before I even had the conscious thought to do so, I had my gun out and pointing toward the dark shadow that had moved. “Show yourself!” I demanded grimly in a loud voice.
Had some of Hux’s pack been waiting for me to isolate myself? Joke was on them. My bodyguards were just around the corner giving Lucky and I space to talk. At my hard statement, August flashed to my side, and his vampiric gaze had already found the dark moving shadow before Cy ran to my side with his big, ground-eating strides. They both sniffed the air, and then both of them relaxed and stationed themselves at the end of the alley closest to Lucky and I, keeping an eye on us but clearly viewing whoever was in the shadows as safe.
Even though they’d deemed the shadow a non-threat I didn’t relax my stance. “Now,” I demanded. “Or else I’ll just start shooting. I’ve had it up to my eyeballs with all the stalking lately.”
“Ducky?”
“Grandfather?” Lucky asked tremulously, moving away from the wall a step, and dragging me with her. And then her ‘grandfather’ dropped the green and gold ball of magic he’d been holding and was suddenly standing in front of us, sweeping Lucky into a giant hug. Since Lucky refused to let go of me and was clinging to me like a baby koala, I got swept into the hug as well.
I blinked bemusedly at the dark alleyway.
Her grandfather’s magical aura was making my skin buzz, and I had the most euphoric feeling come over me.
It was called a leprechaun buzz and it was seriously potent. Only full leprechauns gave it off. I tried to tune their conversation out as her grandfather pulled back, his palms on Lucky’s shoulders as he scanned her from head to toe, but it was nearly impossible because Lucky still refused to let go of my arm.
Full-blooded leprechauns were an enigma. For one, other than a few branches of supernaturals, they were amongst the rarest. Only one percent of all supernaturals were leprechauns. Despite their proclivity for amassing large amounts of groupies, and despite the fact that like ninety-nine percent of them loved being the center of attention, children were rare among their kind.
Leprechauns had dark green hair that they claim heralded back to their Irish roots, generally pale white skin, and shiny gold eyes, like the gold that they seemed to amass nearly effortlessly. They radiated a euphoric luck energy in a ten foot radius around them, and because it felt so good to be around them, and just being around them tended to generate better luck in your life, most of them had large amounts of groupies that just followed them around wherever they went. Bystanders hoping for a contact high.
Most leprechauns ate this up, but very rarely you got your hermit leprechauns. Those leprechauns that hated what their magic did to others and wanted no part of it. They became the ultimate hermits, because their magic was as much a part of them as breathing, and they couldn’t turn it off. These leprechauns tended to live on the fringes, sometimes isolating themselves so completely that they only saw a living, breathing person once a year when they had to go to a large town to stock up on food and essentials.
Lucky’s grandfather looked to be in his forties—it was just how supernaturals rolled. I didn’t even blink at apparent age discrepancies anymore. He had the leprechaun shiny gold eyes, dark green hair and pale skin. He was handsome; most leprechauns tended to be attractive, much like vampires. It was part of their natural charisma.
I pulled out of my thoughts as Lucky tugged on my arm. “Dice, this is my grandfather Liam.”
