“Wait a minute! How do you know this?”
Chynne grinned. “No one pays much attention to pixies, even to notice they didn’t truly leave when told.”
The pixie had kissed him. Wycke suddenly felt the urge to rub his cheek. “That’s how you know about my magic. When you touched me.”
“Yes. A simple touch reveals so much, especially with you so unguarded. The shiny jewelry on your wrist allows you some concealment, but with practice, you can hide your strength all on your own, a skill you will soon need to master.”
“You were there when I spoke to my sister. Then my brother appeared.” Wycke narrowed his eyes. Where’d the knife land… “You’re working for him, aren’t you?”
Chynne emitted a very cat-like hiss. “I told you. My master is a powerful sorcerer. I might be bound against my will, but I have standards.”
“So, my brother happened to arrive today, right as Saris and I talked. Do you think he has ill intent?” The last thing they needed: Radre with powerful allies.
Examining an extended claw, Chynne said, “King Radre hasn’t had a single intent in his entire life that wasn’t ill. Now, I believe you’re planning a trip to the human realm?”
“What business is that of yours?”
Chynne grinned, displaying pointy teeth. “I have traced the last known location of Sir Lyvianne—partner.”
CHAPTER TWELVE
Human Realm
“Wow, this box is heavy. What’s in here, bricks?” The load lightened the moment the words left Piers’ mouth. He leaned against the back of the elevator next to a similarly burdened Jess, pretending the box still weighed a ton. No need to freak her out about something he didn’t understand himself.
“At least we don’t have to lug them up five flights of stairs anymore.” Jess’s hair formed a messy, turquoise halo around her face, having escaped her scrunchy long ago. The purple elastic band hung precariously from a single snarl beneath one ear.
Piers grinned, balancing the box against the wall to pluck the band from Jess’s hair while willing the box she carried to be slightly less heavy, though not too noticeably lighter. Would it work for her? “I know, right? On-site laundry, elevator, gym access. One hell of a lot better than our last apartment.”
“Because we finally got decent jobs.” Jess stepped out the moment the elevator doors opened.
Piers carefully hoarded everything given to him by Uncle Lee. If he stood a chance in hell of explaining their existence, he’d sell the jewels or coins to afford a better place. He could claim his uncle gave them to him, not a total untruth, but someone might accuse him of stealing or something. Someone like him didn’t walk around with a fortune in jewels.
Coins, jewels, and a book he couldn’t read. Then again, deep down, maybe he didn’t want to part with his inheritance. “I miss Edoardo, though.” The man who’d given Piers a job when he’d needed one had retired, closing the restaurant.
Ed’s cousin Max came by with a bartending job offer on the day of the announcement—two days after Piers’ twenty-first birthday, just when he’d started worrying about future employment.
Yes, the universe treated him well sometimes.
He followed Jess to their new home, propped the box against the wall, and keyed open the door. The fresh paint smell drifted into the hallway. “After you,” he told her.
“Do you want me to put this box down and kick your ass? Don’t go giving me the little lady act.” Jess huffed a strand of hair out of her face—which fell right back over her eyes again.
“Nope. Not me. I saw a spider here in the hall earlier. I know how much you hate spiders. A great big hairy one with lots of eyes and legs and shit too.”
“Spider?” Jess shot through the door.
Piers whistled and sauntered into the apartment.
“You asshole!” She dropped her box on the couch and chased after him.
“But you love me.” Piers flashed his most appealing grin, twisting away from her grasp.
Jess’s glare softened. “Yes, I do.” She slowed, following Piers into the bedroom he’d claimed.
“Can you believe we each have a room now and don’t have to take turns sleeping on the pull-out couch?” He placed his box on the dresser and glanced out the window. The sixth floor provided a good view but wasn’t high enough to freak out Jess If-God-Wanted-Me-To-Be-Up-This-High-He’d-Have-Given-Me-Wings Russo.
More than the wings tattooed on her back. One of Piers’ most detailed designs: a black dragon with red eyes, wings stretched wide, gaping maw displaying a mouthful of teeth.