Once he finished, he went to the kitchen to prepare breakfast. He reckoned a plate of scrambled eggs with bacon and a cup of coffee couldn’t hurt in putting the man in a slightly better mood. And Jim desperately needed all the help he could get when it came to improving the man’s mood.
He had just finished preparing food when the man strolled into the kitchen, a thunderous expression on his face. Jiminy looked at him, smiling faintly.
“Would you like some coffee and eggs?” He offered. The man looked at him with murder in his eyes.
“What the hell is going on in here?”
* * * *
Dominic woke up to the smell of bacon and coffee. He was hungry like a wolf and his throat was tight with thirst. He didn’t remember the last time he was so hungover. It had to be when he was still a teen. He wondered briefly what he had to drink last night. Did he guzzle a whole bottle of vodka or something? And then it hit him.
He hadn’t been drinking. Not at all. He had a man break into his house and drug him with some weird aphrodisiac. A man who had wings, and had to be crazy, as he kept babbling about werewolves and fairies and god knows what else. And from the smells in his bedroom, the man was still in his apartment.
Dominic dragged his protesting body from the bed and stood up with a groan. He stretched, his back popping as he did so, and groaned again. Then he quickly put something on and strode purposefully toward the kitchen to deal with the intruder. His face took on a thunderous expression as he entered his kitchen and saw the man wearing his shirt and cooking on his stove. The man turned and smiled a small, uneasy smile.
“Would you like some coffee and eggs?” he offered and the top of Dominic’s head nearly blew off at the man’s gall.
“What the hell is going on in here?” he drawled through his clenched teeth instead of answering the ridiculous question. He noticed with satisfaction that the man did look quite uneasy and even contrite.
“Um,” he said quietly, putting away the spatula he still had in his hand. As soon as it was down on the counter, the little man started to wring his hands. “I wanted to prepare some food for you, to show you how sorry I was for what happened yesterday. I swear I never planned it this way. I simply wanted to check if you were trustworthy. I never knew you were a werew—” He paused and gulped before he corrected, “A wolf shifter. I would never risk coming into the house of a paranormal with my wings exposed otherwise.”
Dominic’s eyes kept getting narrower and narrower the longer the man spoke. So he was dealing with a loony after all. He supposed that gave him some leeway with the whole breaking-and-entering thing if the man was as cray-cray as he seemed. Still, it didn’t give him the right to drug people out of their minds. Dominic decided to be gentler, though. What was the saying about not making crazy people angry? He didn’t know. He was never good with sayings and proverbs, kept mixing them all the time. Anyway, he decided the best approach to the whole thing was to keep calm and keep the man here until he could call men with a straitjacket to put the poor madman in.
Dominic schooled his features into a calm mask and decided to play into the man’s scenario. He sat at the table and asked gruffly, “How do you expect me to eat anything you made? You drugged me, remember?”
“Oh!” The little intruder looked really surprised, as if he truly didn’t think about it. And he probably didn’t. He was crazy, after all. He kept looking between the two plates he had prepared and the table where Dominic sat. Finally he seemed to come to a solution as he smiled broadly and grabbed both plates, setting them on the opposite sides of the table. “I’ll eat some of your plate” he said, “so that you see it’s not drugged.” He smiled, pleased with his idea. Then he frowned. “But can’t you smell it? I thought you werew—um, wolf shifters,” he corrected, “had an exceptional sense of smell?”
Dominic scowled, not knowing how to answer. Then he sniffed his plate, still playing into the man’s game. He was quite surprised when he did indeed seem to smell more than usual. The bacon smelled as delicious as usual, but its scent did seem to be richer. The eggs, though…They smelled a bit stale and with a hint of some kind of chemicals. Nothing significant, maybe a washing liquid. Dominic frowned and glanced at the man across from him.
“I might have a good sense of smell, but how do I know that your drug hadn’t affected it? What if it’s still in my system?” The man seemed annoyed at that.
“You know,” he huffed, “I understand that fey don’t come to this world often, and pixies even more rarely. I get it that the humans all but forgot about us, but for some ridiculous fairy tales—what a name, too—but I thought paranormals would know more about our mutual history. We used to mate with your kind quite often back in the day. I bet some of you still have traces of fey blood flowing through your veins. Anyway”—he pinched the bridge of his nose as if annoyed—“after you grabbing at my wings like that and your statement right now, I understand you all forgot about us, too.
“Okay, so here’s the short version of ‘pixie dust 101.’” He made quote marks with his fingers. “The dust affects all paranormals, but it doesn’t affect humans. It is highly addictive. It can be deactivated by a spell, which I unfortunately forgot.” He smiled sheepishly, then continued.
“It may cause severe trauma to some paranormal species if mating heat is not fulfilled, but for werewolves, it ends up with hangover-like aftereffects. There is no lasting damage and the dust doesn’t linger in your system after the heat has passed.” He sighed and looked back at Dominic, then finished. “So, no, your sense of smell is not impaired because of it, but so that you’re certain, I’ll try some of your food to assure you it’s not drugged.”
Then he murmured under his breath so lowly that Dominic was surprised he heard him loud and clear since his lips were barely moving. “Not that I could create any dust on my own. We can only produce it if somebody else is touching our wings, but I bet your people forgot all about it, too.” The man seemed offended about his species being so forgotten and Dominic had to fight against himself not to smile. The little intruder was cute when he was pouting.
Dominic mentally shook his head, discarding the crazy thought. The little man was crazy, not cute. Dominic would not be lusting after a madman. He gave himself a mental shake and then fed a few bites of food to the man. After he was satisfied his food and coffee weren’t drugged, he dug in, wolfing it all down quickly. His uninvited guest did the same, and soon they were finished. It was time to get some answers then. Dominic sat back in his chair, seemingly relaxed, and looked into other man’s eyes.
“Now, tell me what’s going on in here. Why did you break into my apartment? Who the hell are you, and what do you want from me?” he said in a steady voice and looked at the man across from him expectantly. He needed some answers first before he called medics to take the crazy man away.
* * * *
Jimmy knew it was time to explain everything to Dominic Sawyer. He didn’t look forward to it, that was certain. He sat back in a wooden chair and shoved his hand through his longish blond hair. Just thinking about the situation made him frustrated.
“Okay, where to start?” he wondered aloud, not expecting an answer, and was startled when it came.
“How about you tell me all about your wings and that drug you used on me?” said the man, and when Jim looked at him, he saw him watching Jim’s back closely. Just then, Jim felt it. His wings were fluttering. Again.
Ever since he was a kid, he’d had a problem with stopping the flutter of those damned appendages every time he was excited, stressed or simply anxious. Tim was much better at concealing his wings, but Jim simply couldn’t help it. He often wasn’t even aware they were fluttering until somebody else pointed it out to him. Now, Dominic’s eyes were piercing the borrowed shirt as if trying to see through the thin fabric. Jim looked the man back in the eye and answered.
“Fair enough. I guess it’s as good place to start as any.” He took a deep breath and started explaining, the whole concept of having to d
o it absolutely foreign to him. Fey were secretive creatures, especially when in an unfamiliar world surrounded by humans and other paranormals who were often known to be very, very unfriendly toward them.
“My name is Jiminy Jones,” he started after a big intake of breath. “My twin brother Timiny and I are both fey. Or, to be more specific, pixies, hence our wings, something only pixie-fey have. A while ago, we decided to leave our plane of existence and come to the human world. You have to understand, it is not usually done. Fey are not very fond of mankind or other paranormals, and pixies are especially wary of them. A few centuries ago we were hunted and kept as slaves for our mating dust, which can serve as an extremely potent drug and aphrodisiac. My brother and I decided to come here anyway, though, and we were quite happy. That was, until several months ago.
“That was when my brother went missing. He went to a meeting with one of our suppliers—we own an internet gift-shop—and he never got there. After the supplier rung me asking about it, I tried to reach Tim, but it was pointless. He didn’t answer his phone, and there was no way for me to track him. I contacted police, but they couldn’t help me. That’s when I decided to ask my friend Tyler for help. He’s a tiger shifter, you know, and he agreed to do some investigating. But then he disappeared as well. When he finally called me after weeks of silence, he told me something horrible.
“He had gotten a trail of Timmy. He followed it to a seemingly abandoned warehouse, and that’s when he got jumped by several paranormals and put into a cage. They almost starved him in there until he could get rescued. Then he discovered that Timmy indeed got kidnapped by the same people, but before Tyler got there, he was already sold to a different person. That’s why I needed a private investigator’s help. He gave me a number to one that is paranormal, but he was busy with another job, and as I needed someone as soon as possible, he gave me your agency’s contact details. I wasn’t going to risk some shady individual working on my brother’s case, so I wanted to check if you were trustworthy.
“I know it wasn’t the best idea to sneak into your apartment and spy on you, but I’m not known for my common sense. It’s Tim’s feature. I’m the hotheaded twin. So I did it. I know it was stupid and reckless, and I’d never do it if I knew you were a wolf shifter. I’m not suicidal, after all. We pixies aren’t very strong with our magic, so encroaching on another paranormal’s turf is like having a death wish. And you’d probably have beaten me up easily yesterday if you didn’t grab at my wings.” A little huff of indignation entered his voice. “I’m incapable of stopping the dust from being produced once my wings are being stimulated,” he said. “If you were a human, it wouldn’t affect you besides making you more horny than usual, but since you’re a werewolf…Well, other paranormals get into a kind of a heat once the dust enters their bloodstream and that’s what happened to you. I didn’t mean to drug you. It was an accident and I am sorry for that.”
Jim finished and looked at the other man expectantly. He had explained himself and it was time for the detective to react. He didn’t know what kind of reaction he expected, but it wasn’t the total and utter disbelief with a touch of pity that showed on the bigger man’s face. Anger, yelling, shouting, even beating he was prepared for. But not that look as if he was a crazy lunatic who ran away from a looney bin.
“You don’t believe me,” he stated, not believing that fact himself. “How can you not believe me?” he asked, more himself than the other man. “You’re a werewolf, Aren’t you like, supposed to smell a lie on me or something? Hear my heartbeat changing when I lie? Or do what the hell you people are doing to know when somebody is lying to them?! You are known amongst paranormal races for being able to recognize truth from a lie, for goodness sake! Do your thing and see that I’m telling the truth!” He almost shouted, frustrated beyond belief. The man lifted his hands in a calming gesture as if he tried to appear as nonthreatening as possible.
“That’s just the thing, Mr. Jones. I am not a werewolf or any other thing you called me. I’m human. And werewolves do not exist. Neither do any other paranormals, fairies or anything like that. They’re fantasy creatures. They’re not real.” He spoke slowly, as if to a child or the madman he was taking Jiminy for. Jim felt anger bubbling within him. He had had enough of this man. He’d wasted too much time already and wasn’t prepared to look for another investigator, so Dominic Sawyer would have to do. Sure, he was sorry for what he did to the man, but his worry about his twin was much greater than any feeling of guilt he could have. He needed Dominic’s help and he was going to get it. But in order to do it, he had to convince the man that he was telling the truth.
“I have no idea why you think paranormals are not real, since you are one yourself, but I have no time for this.” He spoke in clipped tones, standing and moving away from the table. “I need your help, and in order to give me that help, you need to believe I’m telling the truth,” he said, removing his borrowed shirt.
“So I’m going to show you something nobody from this plane of existence has seen for a while,” he said, pushing his hair away from his face and seeing that the man stood up as well and stood in a doorway to the kitchen, as if trying to prevent Jim from escaping. Jim snorted internally. He had no intention of running.
“I will show you my true self,” he said instead. “Something that we usually only show to our chosen mates. So you just stand there and watch. And don’t try to come closer. It wouldn’t be good if you accidentally touched my wing again. The dust is much more potent when in that form. There is no telling what it would do to you,” he warned.
Then he closed his eyes and concentrated, calling his pixie essence to the surface. It wasn’t that he would change forms like shape shifters, no. Fey weren’t designed that way. But all fey were magical creatures. Magic was in the center of their beings and it shone through them. In order to move freely amongst humans, they had to conceal it deep within themselves, otherwise, every human they encountered become fey-struck. They would fall into an instant infatuation and become obsessed with that fey. They couldn’t eat, couldn’t sleep, and sometimes then died before they could fight off the spell.
Paranormals were different, but they, too, felt an instant attraction to a fey’s true form. That was why it was easier to hide it from them, too. But Jim felt he had no choice. The longer his brother was missing, the greater chance he would be harmed, and Jiminy couldn’t allow it. He had to do everything in his power to save Tim, even if it was endangering their secret and risking being forced to go back to the fey kingdom. There were worse things than going home. Jim exhaled loudly when his felt his magical light encompassing his form. He changed, he could feel it. He opened his eyes to see Dominic Sawyer’s expression.
Chapter Four
Dom was dumbstruck. There was no other word to describe it. He watched the man—no, the creature—before him with his jaw hanging wide open as he felt his entire world shifting. Everything he thought he knew about the world was false. There were other creatures amongst humans. Dominic couldn’t deny it any longer, as he watched the most beautiful sight before him.
The man that he thought cute before, the same that he wanted to fuck when he was drugged, stood before him, and yet it wasn’t him. He was different. Different in a way Dominic couldn’t even start to comprehend.
When the little intruder had finished his story, all Dominic could feel for him was pity. The poor lunatic believed in werewolves and fairies, and if his brother truly did disappear then he had probably gone off the deep end right then. Dominic didn’t even know what to say to the man when he questioned his disbelief with more weird stories of werewolves and lie-sniffing or some other bullshit. He blurted the first thing that came to his mouth. He knew he shouldn’t aggravate the crazy man any more than he already was, but he couldn’t stop himself. He simply told him there were no such things as werewolves or fairies. And boy was he wrong!
When the man stood up in an angry huff, Dom had immediately moved to block his escape route. He was
n’t going to let this lunatic roam the city unattended. But the man didn’t try to run. He didn’t try to attack Dom, either. Instead, he removed his shirt and said he was going to prove his words were true.
Fat chance, Dominic had thought, and yet when those weird, movable wings spread widely behind the man, he got his first spark of unease. He didn’t know what they were made of, but it wasn’t any material he was familiar with. Then the man warned him to stay away, something about the dust being more potent in his true form, and closed his eyes.
It wasn’t until his wings started a steady movement, one pair forward, one backward, that Dominic felt true doubt for the first time. Something was happening with the other man and Dom had to stop himself from rushing forward. To do what? He had no idea. And then the glow started.
It started slow, somewhere deep within the man’s uncovered torso, and moved to encompass his entire body. When it finished, the man was glowing with a soft golden light, and his features changed, morphed into something closer to perfection. Even his hair seemed to flow in the air as if moved by a gentle breeze. The smell of fresh flowers filled the air and Dominic could have sworn the world ceased to exist but for the two of them. There were no noises outside the little bubble encompassing them.
Dominic couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe, and couldn’t think. All he could do was look at the perfection before him and feel a deep yearning to go to him, touch him, and please him. He had never felt anything like it. Then the man opened his eyes and Dominic couldn’t hold his gasp. They looked like sparkling gems so iridescent in color that they didn’t seem real. There was no way something like this was possible, Dominic thought. No human could have such eyes. No human…
Yes, Dominic was ready to admit, the man before him wasn’t human. Dominic clutched the doorframe so hard his fingers whitened. He made a conscious effort to close his still-hanging jaw and he spoke after swallowing loudly.
Reality Check Page 3
