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Pixie Noir (Pixie for Hire Book 1)

Page 29

by Cedar Sanderson

I opened my eyes to find myself back in bed. My mother was standing at my side, smiling down at me, with tear-dampened eyes. “Are they gone?” I asked.

  “For now, son.” She shifted her gaze, and I felt Bella move further onto the bed next to me. “Will you make him stay in bed long enough to heal?”

  I started to laugh at that, and choked. My mother realized what she had said and blushed. Bella’s giggle made me look at her, and she was holding one hand over her face, but I could tell she was blushing, too.

  “Bella, will you marry me?” I blurted out. I had meant to do it with wine, and roses, and moonlight overhead... but here, flat on my back, with my mother on one side and Bella crosslegged on my sickbed, would have to do. It had been put off too long, while I couldn’t ask her for her hand, while my family was disgraced in Fairy eyes and I would never have been accepted as a princess’s suitor. I wanted her, her company, her mischievous laugh, and most of all, that brilliant, sparking mind of hers, throwing off ideas like electricity and lighting me up like a bonfire. Her body might have been the first thing I saw, but I’d fallen for her mind.

  She dropped her hand, her mouth open in a little oh of surprise, and I realized that she had given up on me as anything but a friend and lover.

  “Lom...” she started, then stopped again, looking at my mother. “Lucia. Can we?”

  I snapped with more irritation than a man should have to use during a proposal, “We damn well can, and no one is going to stop me!”

  My mother gurgled with laughter, suddenly girlish. “Bella, it would be a joy to call you daughter. And Lom’s right. He could have done this before, but it would have been trouble. What he just did...” she choked up.

  “Bella, please.” I don’t know what I was pleading for, her to answer me right, or just her to stop stalling and answer me at all.

  She leaned over me, her long, loose hair falling like night around us, shutting out the world and making just the two of us in our own universe. Her eyes shone like stars.

  “Yes.”

  The End...

  In a small room far away, a raven poured a dragon a cup of coffee strong enough to float a mule shoe - with the mule still attached. The dragon shuddered, but sipped anyway.

  “Should we call them for this?”

  “We must. She is more powerful than either of us, and he keeps her in check.”

  The dragon sighed, and nodded agreement. He took another sip of the black substance his friend called coffee, and shuddered again.

  Author’s Note:

  In the beginning of the book, you will have noted an accident involving a moose, that claimed the lives of Bella’s parents. This is based on something that happened in real life, to a childhood friend, but in that case, it was a bison wandering on the Alaska Highway. When I sent this story out to beta readers, I was surprised to discover that the large herd of bison living wild in the Delta Jct. area of Alaska is not well known, so for that reason I changed it to a moose. However, I couldn’t resist adding this little trivia titbit to the end of the book. So now you know, and can impress your friends.

  Bio:

  Cedar Sanderson is a writer, blogger, and businesswoman who can be found in her office pounding the keyboard when she isn't out walking the dog. Her work has been published by Stonycroft Publishing, Naked Reader Press, and Something Wicked. She is the author of the young adult novel Vulcan's Kittens, and her second novel, Pixie Noir, will be released late 2013. She writes regular blog columns at Amazing Stories Magazine and Mad Genius Club, in addition to her own writing blog, where she posts almost daily. She prefers science fiction, mostly writes fantasy, and dabbles in non-fiction when her passion is stirred.

  Other Titles by Author

  Short Stories and Novellas

  Voyageur's Cap (Published by Naked Reader Press) - Space Pirates and the return of the Hudson’s Bay Company.

  Memories of the Abyss - She may be crazy, but she knows her only friend was murdered.

  Stargazer - Science fiction short story of a mother’s love.

  The Twisted Breath of God - A story of second contact with aliens.

  Little Red-Hood and the Wolf-Man - Who’s afraid of the big bad wolf? Not little Red with her shotgun!

  Dwarf’s Dryad - Who rescues whom from the Witch and her rapunzel?

  Plant Life - Exploration of a new planet and first contact.

  Snow Angel - A mother’s love can defy any power, even that of angels.

  Novels

  Vulcan’s Kittens - A novel of mythological beings and their children.

  Excerpt from Memories of the Abyss:

  She sat in the warm afternoon sun, her face tilted toward the warmth, eyes closed. It was finally spring, and she cherished the heat against her skin, she had been so very cold all winter. She was trying to wait, to be quiet, and it was hard. She wanted to be up and doing, searching for a way to happiness.

  Memories flooded her mind, forcing her back toward the cold. She remembered sitting with her back to the bed, on the floor, knees to her chest. He stood over her with a look of disgust on his face.

  “You’re a worthless sack of shit, you know that?”

  She flinched, burying her face in her knees.

  “Look at me, Violet. You can’t hide behind your rose-colored glasses. Look around you.”

  She looked up, not at him, but around her at the cluttered bedroom. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been allowed out, even to the laundromat, so there was a pile of laundry. A few books, but none of them hers. He’d told her hers took up too much space, and she was wasting time reading, anyway, so they had to go.

  “I’ll clean it up,” she spoke softly, trying not to trigger the cough.

  “You’d better. I have to go to work, this place had better be spotless when I’m home.”

  He walked out of the room and she could hear him moving around in the next room. She didn’t move, not yet. When he was gone and she was safe again. The outer door opened and closed, and Violet collapsed to the floor, sobbing and coughing. She couldn’t stop the wrenching coughs, and crawled toward the kitchen, where she vomited on the tiles. Having to clean that out of the carpet would be impossible, she knew.

  She lay on her side, feeling the welcome coolness against her fevered body. She knew she had pneumonia. She also knew he’d never let her get treated for it. He’d say they couldn’t afford it. She stared up at his television, game systems, and grimaced. His toys were more important than she, so why wouldn’t he let her go?

  Violet opened her eyes and jerked up with a gasp, back into the warm spring sunshine, away from the cold places in her mind. She relaxed again with a sigh. He couldn’t hurt her anymore, she was safe. Her lips curled up in a smile, and she took an experimental deep breath. The good green scent of growing things, and no pain. She took another, knowing that the years had left scars inside her, but today they didn’t hurt, at least.

  A hand on her shoulder made her flinch, before she looked up and saw who it was. Violet smiled a little at her friend, and Lori sat down next to her on the step overlooking the green lawn.

  “Nice day, isn’t it?” The dark haired woman asked.

  Violet nodded, looking at her. She reached a tentative finger out and tucked a lock of Lori’s hair behind her ear. The older woman looked startled, fleetingly. Violet watched the emotion run across her face and disappear.

  “Vi, you ok? Having a bad day again?”

  Violet let her face relax and her smile go lopsided, conveying her chagrin at transparency. She shrugged slightly.

  Lori took one of her hands and rubbed it. “Feeling cold?”

  Vi reached her free hand up toward the sun, tipping her head back and letting the light bathe her face.

  “It does feel nice and warm, doesn’t it. I’m glad you came outside.”

  Lori touched Vi’s shoulder again gently, but Violet was prepared and didn’t flinch.

  “Vi, I wanted to get your take on something.”

  Violet
looked straight at Lori, one eyebrow raised slightly.

  “You know that Walter died, right?”

  Violet nodded, feeling her brow furrow slightly. Walter had been a sweet old man.

  “I don’t think it was natural causes. Something wasn’t right there.”

  Violet sat back slightly, sighing a little. She shook her head. Lori might be right, but what could Vi do that her nurse couldn’t? Her past was dead, and she had buried it along with the man who had killed her soul.

  Lori stood and squeezed her shoulder. “Think about it. Let me know in the morning, all right? Time to go in, now.”

  Violet stood slowly and preceded the nurse with her soft soundless shoes into the big, cold stone building. She paused at the door and looked over her shoulder at the sunlight still flooding the broad veranda. It would be there tomorrow, she reminded herself, and then stepped into the building that smelled of industrial disinfectant. She looked at her feet, shoulders hunched, until they came to her room and she could feel safe again.

  Lori came in with her.

  “Do you need anything, Vi? All set until morning? Jake has night shift, you know. He’ll come if you need him.”

  Violet nodded tiredly and sat on her narrow bed. Lori looked sadly down at her, and Violet smiled at her to show the woman that it was all right, really. It wasn’t the nurse’s fault, and she was a friend when she didn’t have to be. Lori sighed and went out, locking the door when it was shut behind her.

  Vi sat on her bed for a long time, staring at the blank wall in front of her. Painted cream to add some warmth to the clinical atmosphere, she wasn’t really seeing it, she was looking into her memories. Walter had been quiet, almost mousy. He’d rarely spoken in group session, although to Vi herself he had come out of his shell and become almost garrulous. She supposed it was so much safer for him to talk to a woman who could not, herself, utter a word.

  After a long time of sitting in utter stillness recalling their conversations, she stood up and took a notebook from her desk drawer. This was a rare privilege, for an inmate, but she supposed she was a rare inmate. She sat and began to transcribe some of the more relevant passages of his monologues. It hadn’t been entirely one-sided. Her mind slipped back to their first chat, in the communal room.

  “Hi, you’re Violet, right?” he had plunked down next to her on the couch. Violet had just shivered and looked away.

  “You can’t talk, they tell me. You used to, but now you can’t.” He fell silent, but didn’t move, and slowly Violet sneaked a peek at him.

 

 

 


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