5. Phil
Phil
I was still reeling, still floating high. I had a job. A real, honest-to-goddess job that I was born to do. The ache in my wing muscles dampened my excitement a little but didn’t extinguish it completely.
Peaches and I’d celebrated well into the night. I’d gotten no sleep the previous night, and that, combined with the few winks I’d gotten last night, didn’t bode especially well. It didn’t matter. I was too giddy to let insomnia get me down.
Sedrick hadn’t exaggerated when he’d said his home was outside of town.
Ten miles might be true, but it felt more like thirty.
Pixies flew all the time, but we weren’t necessarily built for long-term flights.
I left plenty early to give me time for a couple of breaks along the way.
I hadn’t lied. My wings were bigger and stronger than most pixies.
Even so, that didn’t mean the journey was easy.
I didn’t look forward to making it again tonight when I left.
No matter. It was worth it.
The countryside was beautiful. I liked the city, but this was nice too. I wasn’t sure what kind of work Sedrick did, but the way it sounded, it was hard physical labor. The rough skin and calloused hands added to that impression.
I’d never heard of Sedrick Voss before he came through the boarding house doors. That wasn’t a surprise. I wasn’t the most social pixie around. Peaches said that was a good thing. He’d met a handful of social pixies and said they were annoyingly chipper. I trusted Peaches and took his word for it.
I glanced down at the map in my hands. Instead of street names, it had landmarks. I didn’t need to follow roads since I was flying there, and Sedrick thought this would be easier. So far, he seemed right. I saw another landmark on the map ahead and knew I was close.
Less than three minutes later, Sedrick’s home came into view. Any other home-and-hearth pixie would probably think it was nothing to write home about. I didn’t plan on writing a letter, but I would tell Peaches about it when I got back to the boarding house tonight.
Sedrick’s house wasn’t unkempt . . . exactly. The maintenance looked done and kept up with, but it was stark and lacked any sense of charm. I wasn’t sure werewolves cared about that, but it was noticeably absent.
Average in size, the metal roof was in good shape, but the surrounding grounds were overrun.
I had enough energy to fly over to the back garden and barely contained my inhale of shock.
Sedrick had said the gardens could use some work, but this was .
. . extensive. I might need to ask Peaches for some advice.
I landed by the side of the house, then walked around to the front. The windows were dirty but intact. Shutters lined their sides and appeared to be in working order. We didn’t get too many violent storms, which were more muted in the city. I’d heard that outside the city, they could be worse.
The house was covered in wood siding. Stones formed the foundation and came halfway up the sides.
The door was large, wooden, and imposing.
There was a small window at the top; if I’d been a normal-sized pixie, I would have had to fly up to see through it.
Given my height, I could stand on my tiptoes and peek inside.
I took a minute to tug on my t-shirt. I’d chosen to wear the same clothes Sedrick had seen me in yesterday.
Mr. Buttons told me that Sedrick liked the rough style and was concerned about his niece and nephew and their possible behavior.
I didn’t have any experience with were children and thought it was a good idea to take Sedrick’s word for it.
He knew better than me. I wasn’t comfortable in the heavy boots, thick jeans, and tight t-shirt, but if it was necessary for the job, I would wear them.
I’d been prepared to wear them for my job as a bouncer, and Sedrick hadn’t asked me to cut my hair, so that was a huge win.
He hadn’t asked me to hide my pixie wings either, and instead of cutting my hair, I’d used my scissors to make slits in the back of the t-shirt.
Peaches wanted me to cut the other two t-shirts I owned, but I wasn’t optimistic enough to risk ruining good clothing.
There was no guarantee this job would work out, and I couldn’t afford to purchase more t-shirts if I needed to beg Mr. Moony for my previous job back.
Nervous, I took two calming breaths and centered myself. Knocking on the door in a haze of pixie dust wouldn’t make a very good first impression.
Sedrick answered the door before I had time to knock more than once.
Unlike pixies, werewolves typically ran on the tall and muscular side.
Their role in a pack didn’t always dictate their physique, though there were stereotypes.
Sedrick was all alpha. My employer screamed power from the crown of his lush, dark hair to the tips of his sometimes-clawed toes.
I’d been too nervous during our first encounter to realize things I should have.
Sedrick was perhaps the most handsome male I’d ever seen. My heart raced, and nerves were no longer the only culprit.
“Good morning, Phil.” Sedrick glanced down at his watch and gave a satisfied nod. “And on time too. How was your flight?” He stepped away from the door, indicating I should come in.
Thickly swallowing, I forced my wings to behave and took my first step into what I hoped would be long-term employment. “It was fine,” I lied. My back muscles ached, and my wings were exhausted. That probably helped keep them in check more than my willpower.
Sedrick gave me a look that clearly said he didn’t completely buy what I was selling but let it go without further comment.
Dark eyes clinically ran up and down my body, and Sedrick gave an approving nod.
“At least you’re dressed for the job.” Sedrick snorted, and his lip pulled back in disgust, or perhaps disapproval.
“You’re the only pixie I’ve met that doesn’t wear flimsy clothes.
The hair’s good too. Nice and practical. ”
I barely stopped my hand from running down the braid I’d meticulously tucked my hair into. My chest squeezed. I’d much rather be in what Sedrick considered impractical clothing. He didn’t know the jeans, t-shirt, and boots weren’t my preference. I didn’t plan to enlighten him.
Instead of commenting, I surreptitiously glanced around the room and frowned. The place wasn’t a disaster per se . . . “Mr. Voss—”
“Sedrick,” he corrected. “Or Sed if you’d like.” Sedrick rolled his shoulders. “It makes no never mind to me.”
Sedrick’s heavy footfalls echoed across a wooden planked floor. Their tenor changed when he got to the brick-lined kitchen floor. I followed his movements and was dismayed that the kitchen was in even worse condition.
“It’s a mess, I know.” Sedrick sounded more exasperated than ashamed.
“I’ve never been much of a housekeeper. It’s just been me out here for a lot of years.
I kept things picked up and half-ass clean, but I didn’t put much more effort into it than that.
Honestly, I don’t have the time or the inclination.
” Again, there was no shame in his voice.
“I suppose it’s not everyone’s cup of tea.” I tried to be congenially polite. Sedrick’s stoic features didn’t hint whether or not he appreciated my effort.
“With Dillon and Ruthie here now . . .” Sedrick sighed heavily. “I suppose it’s fair to say things have gotten out of hand.”
I thought that was being generous but kept up my internal mantra of staying polite and asked, “Are Dillon and Ruthie home now?” Yesterday was a bit of a blur, and I couldn’t remember if Dillon was in school or not. My scattered memories told me Ruthie might be too young.
Sedrick nodded in the direction down the hall. “They’re in Ruthie’s room. Dillon’s old enough that he can keep an eye on his sister for a few minutes. I thought it would be a good idea for us to talk privately before you met them.”
“Of course.” My words came out a little too eager, and I cringed at my voice.
Not all home-and-hearth pixies liked kids. Posey was a good example. She didn’t necessarily dislike them, but she didn’t feel a special connection to them. Now that I was an adult, I liked kids. I’d pretty much hated them when I was one, mostly because they’d been cruel.
Sedrick grabbed a cup of coffee lurking on the counter behind him. With all the dirty mugs littering the area, I was surprised he picked up the correct one.
I waited for him to take a gulp, watching his Adam’s apple bob along his shaved neck. Sedrick’s beard was neatly trimmed and cut close to the skin. Werewolves were hairy even in their human forms.
“I don’t believe in sugarcoating things.
You’ll find that out about me soon enough, but best to get it out of the way from the beginning.
Dillon and Ruthie lost their mom and dad less than a month ago.
Their father, William, was my brother. Their mother, Kelsie, was his mate. It’s been . . . difficult.”
My wings fluttered, sending a fine mist of pixie dust into the air. My heart ached for a couple of kids I’d yet to meet. “I’m sorry to hear that. It must be a difficult time.” Words were never enough in situations like this, but they were all I had.
“Thank you.” Sedrick’s lips twisted with grief. I got the feeling he didn’t allow himself to grieve nearly as much or as often as he should. Dillon and Ruthie had lost their parents, but Sedrick had lost his brother. Werewolves were pack by nature, and family was sacrosanct.
Thinking about pack, I wondered why Sedrick’s pack wasn’t helping him take care of his niece and nephew. I should have thought about that yesterday, but I’d been so excited and stunned by the prospect of a true job that I hadn’t considered it.