33. Sedrick #2
“Goddess, Phil must have been devastated.” Peaches sounded like I’d punched him in the gut.
“And he didn’t even tell me.” That punched sound turned into a wounded plea.
Head snapping up, Peaches said, “I had my bonding ceremony a few days ago. Phil was there, and he looked . . .” Peaches shook his head.
“Phil didn’t look good. I knew something was wrong, but when I asked Posey and Mr. Buttons, they told me not to worry.
I was so wrapped up in my ceremony, I didn’t push. I should have. I . . .”
“Obviously, Phil didn’t want you to know or worry,” Ray said.
“He can’t help it.” I desperately wanted to hit something, to punch it until it felt my pain.
“What do you mean?” Peaches asked.
“He’s a home-and-hearth pixie,” Ray answered for me. “Caring is in their nature. It’s wrapped so far into their core that it’s difficult for them to overcome those base instincts, even if it is not in their best interest.”
I heard the door at the end of the hall open before Dillon said, “Peaches?”
Peaches spun. I didn’t think his smile was forced. There was too much sadness lingering around its edges to be fake. “Hey, Dillon. Ruthie.” Peaches opened his arms and allowed Ruthie to hug him. She was careful of his wings. Dillon also looked like he wanted a hug but wouldn’t admit to it.
“Have you seen Phil?” Dillon pressed in closer, head tilted up and eyes begging more than his voice.
“I saw him a few days ago.”
“How was he?” Dillon eagerly asked.
Ruthie released Peaches and moved in closer to her brother.
Dillon automatically clasped her hand. “Is his new job going okay? Uncle Sed told us Phil’s working in a bar.” Dillon wrinkled up his nose. “I don’t think that will make Phil very happy.”
“A bar?” Peaches sucked in a heavy breath and his head whipped toward me.
“You don’t mean Dusk, do you?” When I didn’t answer right away, Peaches’s wings fluttered wildly.
“Oh, no. No, no, no, no.” Peaches gave his flight version of pacing.
Dust flew everywhere. Taking a cue from Ray, I quickly ducked into the kitchen and grabbed three hand towels.
I passed the two smaller ones to Dillon and Ruthie and motioned them to cover their noses.
Their eyes still watered, but sneezing fits were avoided all around.
“Phil’s a terrible bouncer. Mr. Moony will make him cut his hair and—”
“No, he won’t,” Ray interjected. “He didn’t. Phil’s working behind the bar. He just has to put his hair back so that it doesn’t get into any of the beverages.”
Thankfully, Peaches calmed. “Thank the goddess.” Slumping, Peaches placed his forehead in his palm. “I’m sorry. I’m not thinking clearly. I just saw Phil a few days ago, and he looked ill, but his hair was still as lovely as ever.”
“Phil’s sick?” Dillon asked before I could.
Peaches looked taken aback for half a second, realizing what he’d said. He shot me an apologetic look before Peaches gave a faint nod. “I’m sorry, Dillon, but he didn’t look as healthy as he should.”
“How so?” Ray moved a little closer, eyes narrowed.
I wanted to say something, to ask pertinent questions and grill Peaches on Phil’s health, but the words wouldn’t come.
My heart thudded, and my palms were sweaty with worry.
Phil couldn’t be sick. Pixies weren’t like humans.
They didn’t fall to bacterial or viral ailments, and he was too young for anything more serious.
Peaches worried his bottom lip. When Phil did that, my heart tripped over itself.
My heart didn’t so much as skip a beat. “His skin coloring was off. It’s hard to explain, but he looked kind of gray and translucent.
It was difficult to tell, but I think he’s lost weight too.
” Peaches shook his head. “I didn’t see him eat a thing at my bonding ceremony, and the food was delicious.
Phil has a sweet tooth, and he didn’t touch the cake.
” Peaches sighed. “He looked so tired. I tried to tell myself he was just working too hard. I know things around here have been difficult, what with the gnomes and . . .” Peaches spared Dillon and Ruthie a worried look.
“Our ridiculous grandpa,” Dillon spat, crossing his arms over his chest and stomping his foot.
“Yes, well . . . that too.” Peaches seemed unsure what to say, his agreement clearly written across his face.
I’d finally pulled my head out of my ass and was ready to pummel Peaches with a litany of inquiries when Ray interrupted my train of thought.
Instead of questioning Peaches, Ray turned his attention to my niece and nephew.
Knowing Ruthie still didn’t speak, Ray spoke directly to Dillon.
“Dillon, this is important, and I need you to think carefully and answer honestly. Can you do that for me?”
Dillon’s eyes widened before he puffed out his chest and gave a firm nod. “Of course.”
“Good. Have you ever seen Phil do anything you thought was odd?”
Dillon scrunched up his nose. “Phil does a lot of odd stuff. He likes to clean and do laundry.” Dillon added a dramatic roll of his eyes at the laundry part.
Ray gave a hint of a smile. “Yes, well, I suppose that would seem odd to some. But I’m talking about something else. Like maybe doors opening before Phil touched them—that could be cabinet doors, the refrigerator, windows . . . anything really.” He bent over, looking intently at Dillon.
“Oh.” Dillon scrunched his nose again but for a totally different reason.
I knew my nephew well enough to know that he was thinking.
“Yeah, sometimes. More recently. The cabinets did that a couple of times while he was fixing dinner. I don’t even think Phil realized it.
He was looking down at the counter and reached up, and it just sort of opened.
” Dillon shrugged like it wasn’t a big deal.
Ruthie frantically tugged at Dillon’s shirt and pointed to the window in the kitchen and then at the garden.
Dillon’s confused expression suddenly brightened. “Yeah, Ruthie’s right. That day the gnomes attacked. The window opened and closed on its own when Phil grabbed Ruthie and me. I’d forgotten about that.”
Ray sucked in a whistled breath. Straightening, Ray stared at the window Dillon pointed to.
“Ray—”
“Was there anything else that struck you as odd, anything the house did in response to Phil?” Red crept into Ray’s eyes, narrowing his dark black pupils.
Dillon shifted his weight from foot to foot. He looked embarrassed about something or maybe guilty.
“Dillon.” I knelt by my nephew and placed a hand on his shoulder. “It’s okay. You’re not in trouble. We’re just trying to figure some things out, that’s all.”
At least, I thought that’s what we were doing. Honestly, I wasn’t completely sure where Ray was going with this. If Peaches’s rapid wing flutter and fidgeting fingers were any clues, I thought he knew. It seemed like the werewolves in the house were the only ones still in the dark.
Dillon blew out a breath that seemed to come from the depths of his very toes. “That day when the other fairy came to the house.”
“Hamish McIntyre?” Ray asked.
Dillon shrugged. “Maybe. I know he works for Grandpa Arie.”
Ray and I shared a knowing look. “What about it?” I kept my voice calm and even.
My wolf pushed, wanting to exert its dominance.
It would be the quickest way to an answer, but I didn’t think it was needed.
Dillon just needed a little bit of time and patience.
Unfortunately, I was rapidly running out of both.
“I, uh . . .” Dillon shuffled his feet again. “I kind of lost control, Uncle Sed. I just wanted to protect everyone,” Dillon pleaded.
“Trust me, buddy, I know the feeling.”
Dillon offered up a grateful smile. “Phil told me to stay back, but I couldn’t. I transformed and tried to attack the fairy lawyer.”
I swear my heart stopped. When it thudded to life again, it was at an accelerated, frantic speed. I’d known Hamish came to the house, but this part . . . Phil and Dillon had kept the details to themselves.
Words wouldn’t come. Had Hamish wanted, he could have killed Dillon with barely a whisper of effort. At the very least, he could have easily taught my nephew a very painful lesson. But Dillon hadn’t been injured.
“Phil stopped me.” Thankfully Dillon kept talking. “He grabbed me around the scruff and held on tight. I didn’t bite him, Uncle Sed,” Dillon pleaded. “I swear I didn’t, not this time.”
“That’s great,” I managed to whisper. “I’m really proud of you for recognizing Phil as pack.”
“I did.” Dillon sounded rightly proud. “Grandpa Arie’s lawyer wanted to come in the house.
Phil told him he couldn’t do that, but the fairy tried anyway.
That’s when I transformed.” Dillon stared down at his feet, shame clearly evident.
“He wasn’t even scared. That lawyer smiled and moved closer.
I thought he would just do what he wanted, but he didn’t.
He just sort of . . . stopped.” Dillon’s head came up, and confusion lit his eyes.
“I’m not really sure what happened. The fairy kept doing this weird thing with his hand.
” Dillon made a tapping motion into the air.
“He did that a couple of times before he backed up and said, ‘interesting.’ Hamish looked the house over and then walked away. When we got back inside, all the shutters were closed, and the house was dark. I remember hearing the front door slam behind us and the lock engaged, but I don’t think Phil did that. ”
“Oh, Phil.” Peaches ran a hand through his hair, turning and walking toward the door leading to the garden.
My previous conversation with Ray tumbled through my brain, connections slotting into place.
Standing, I ruffled Dillon’s hair. I left the palm of my hand on the crown of his head.
I’m not sure if it was meant to comfort Dillon or me.
I knew the answer when I reached for Ruthie and pulled her to my side.