L. BANKS - Cursed To Death

It was no wonder the Pixies and garden Faeries didn’t greet them when they entered the gardens at Chaya. Sasha took one look at Hunter’s five o’clock shadow and surly mood, and if she were one of the wee folk, she would have avoided him, too. But she wasn’t much better-two Shadow Wolves that looked like they’d seen the worst side of the moon.

Sasha trudged forward, undaunted, keeping her voice low and calling out gently. If Penelope worked at the tea salon, then the Pixie staff or garden Faeries would know whoever else she worked with, so they could track that person down. They’d also know who the Pixie was in the photo. Somebody had to know something. But after a moment, Sasha stopped walking.

“I know Pixies and Faeries are unusually shy, but it’s just way too quiet out here.”

Hunter nodded and glanced around. “We have done them no harm and have helped them in the past-why would they hide from us?”

“Listen… nothing,” Sasha said, standing very, very still. “Not even crickets or morning birds.”

On guard, both Shadow Wolves moved slowly toward the small mansion that had been turned into a delicately ornamented teahouse. Sasha motioned with her chin toward a long shadow cast by a weeping cherry tree. At this point, they couldn’t worry about the Fae investigators. There was probable cause to enter Chaya via break-in. Within moments, she and Hunter had entered the shadow, coming out of it inside the shadows within the abandoned salon.

A thin film of dust covered the surfaces of once gleaming wood furniture and privacy screens. The gorgeous hardwood floors had lost their luster and dust sat in the crevices of intricately carved panels. Sasha and Hunter shared a look.

“This place looks like somebody got out of Dodge in a hurry. I don’t get it.”

A small pssst sound gave them a start, causing both wolves to spin in its direction only to spy a small, frightened Pixie. She stood in a tiny pool of light that was coming in around the shuttered windows, and she hugged her fragile arms to her body, her large brown eyes changing colors rapidly as she spoke.

“I heard the news,” she squeaked. “That is the only reason I am coming forward-you Shadows helped us before, but this is so tragic, just so very wrong!” The Pixie glanced around again. “I’m not even supposed to be here, but I heard you’d come to this place last night… I hoped you’d come here in the early morning.”

Sasha gave Hunter a glance that told him to stay back. The small Pixie was beginning to turn blue-green, her glamour totally faded, which could only mean that she was scared half to death. Large tears slid down her cheeks and Sasha immediately knew this was the Pixie in the photo.

“We’ll help you,” Sasha said in a gentle voice. “But we have to know what’s going on.” She squatted down to bring her gaze more level to that of the small person before her. “What’s your name?”

“Pixie Gretchen,” she said, as two more large, opalescent tears rolled down the bridge of her button nose. She tossed her strawberry-blond curls away from her face and lifted her chin, obviously trying to be strong. “They killed her.”

“Who?” Sasha said carefully.

“Poor Desidera,” the Pixie whispered and then covered her face.

Sasha glanced at Hunter, who remained stoic. “I meant, who killed Desidera?”

“The spell-casters.” Gretchen lowered her palms away from her face.

This time Sasha didn’t just glance at Hunter, she held his gaze for a moment before returning her line of vision to the Pixie. “You mean the Vampires?”

The mention of Vampires made the Pixie dash back and forth within the pool of light for a few seconds.

“They must be the ones stealing our magick-but who knows how they’ve cast such a spell? Our magick has been waning for months. That’s why we’ve been in hiding. Desidera learned something by consorting with them… Penelope said she wasn’t herself since the night before last, and I’ve been waiting here for word… we all have. Then the night moths told the Faeries about Desidera’s flaming… oooohhhh… so horrible!”

Hunter cast a sidelong glance at Sasha.

“When was the last time you spoke to Penelope?” Sasha chose her words carefully, beginning to add up facts in her head as she spoke.

“Yesterday, when she got off from work in the afternoon… She works for Ethan McGregor, you know.” Gretchen looked between Sasha and Hunter. “What have you not told me?”

“When Penelope gets off work at Ethan’s, she comes directly here to work?” Hunter addressed the Pixie in a low, calm rumble, trying to keep his voice modulated.

“She used to… when we were open,” Gretchen said, now beginning to wring her hands. “But now she just comes by regularly to bring us honey and other supplies we need, as a friend. We, the Fae, are very private, and leaning on charity from those outside our community is very difficult indeed. That’s the only reason she started adding full shifts at that other place.”

“The Blood Oasis?” Hunter asked as gently as possible.

“Ohhh, that evil, evil place-yes!” The Pixie grabbed her hair with both hands and shook her head. “Penelope was going there too much and Desidera was worried about her, rightfully so. Penelope wanted Desi to dance there with her and I guess she finally gave in… and because the Vampires wanted her to join the club so badly, I think they let her in deeper than they even let Penelope. After that, Desi just wasn’t the same. She told us not to worry; she’d heard something that she had to tell Sir Rodney.” Gretchen bit her lip. “She was trying to help us, trying to be sure our magick would return. It had all come down!”

Sasha hugged herself, new worry roiling in her mind. So, Rodney was also playing games-he wasn’t just going to hook up with a lover; he was there to learn what Desidera had found out. For a moment, Sasha’s heart froze. Please, God, Sir Rodney couldn’t have killed that girl… But she shook the thought. It didn’t make sense. If Desidera was going to tell him something about those committing sorcery against his kingdom, killing Desidera would be the last thing he’d do. Besides, why would he have called her in to investigate the crime? It would have been easy for him to simply sweep the matter under the rug. A dead Phoenix in the paranormal community wouldn’t have shown up on her personal radar. And, if Desidera didn’t tell Penelope, then why did she end up dead? One thing was for sure, she needed to make a visit to Sidhe to get in the Seelie king’s face about withholding intel.

“Did Desidera tell you what she learned?” Sasha finally asked, bracing herself to deliver the bad news about Penelope.

“No. She wouldn’t tell us because she wanted to keep us out of it, wanted to protect us. She said it was too dangerous,” Gretchen replied, stifling a sob. “Not even Penelope could pry it out of her, and now Desidera is dead.”

“That’s not your fault,” Sasha said as she stared down at the distraught little being. “Did the night moths tell you anything else?” She glanced at Hunter and then back at Gretchen.

“No. I went into hiding as soon as I heard about Desidera. I should really go back to our secret mound,” Gretchen said, glancing around nervously. “I’ve been gone too long already.”

“But why wouldn’t you just have other Fae help you, then, instead of the Phoenixes?” Sasha said, trying to stay the Pixie’s leave.

“Sir Rodney said that for security reasons we should keep our fading-magick problem to ourselves until he could investigate,” Gretchen said in a bitter tone. “But Penelope saw our condition with her own eyes as we closed the tea salon temporarily… That is not common knowledge; I don’t believe McGregor even knows. Everything has been going fallow and so hard to cultivate the more our magick wanes. We’ve told Sir Rodney all of this, but his investigation is moving slowly-Thompson Loughlin hasn’t made a dent in things and we’re left at the mercy of fate! We had to eat.”