Sinister Seductions (Book 1 The Flower of Bottesford Series)

Chapter 8: Ari

Somehow, in some way I will never be able to figure out, I made it out of the woods and back to the park’s entrance. Seconds after being out of sight of Eve, exhaustion took me hard and I wanted to collapse where I stood. The demanding days of travel coupled with the emotional turmoil of the evening had well and truly wiped me out.

I called a cab to pick me up from the park, even though I knew it was no more than a fifteen minute walk from the park to the safe house. But the idea of physically moving that far made my whole body hurt somehow, and I knew I would likely be taking a nap on someone’s front lawn if I even tried to attempt it.

For the first time in a long time I almost fell asleep in the back seat of the taxi. My mental exhaustion so extreme it almost obliterated my natural distrust of strangers and the ingrained habits of years of training with the Council. It was likely only the in depth mind techniques taught by Cyrus that kept me going and functional. I would have to tell him they worked when I got back.

It was nearly 5:00 A.M. when I found myself finally fumbling with the keys to the door of my temporary home, unable to find the right one. As it was I was no longer fully aware of how doors and locks functioned in the first place. After letting loose a stream of curses that would have made a hardened sailor blush, I finally succeed in my goal. I kicked my shoes off in a random direction as I found myself tumbling inside. I let myself drop into the bed, not bothering to so much as remove my jacket, and barely remembering to close and lock the door behind me.

I was virtually in complete sleep when a high pitched shrieking bell sounded off next to my right ear. I shot out of bed like a lightning bolt, ready to eviscerate my assailant, before I heard a small, sweet laugh reminiscent to chirping birds. I whirled around and pierced the small ball of green light with my most deadly glare, a small growl of irritation escaping my mouth.

“What the hell Ari. I only just got to sleep!”

She seemed distraught at this, flashing every shade of green before dropping herself down to the bed. “I sorry. Not know,” she lamented.

Ari was a pixie and also my witch’s familiar. She appeared to world as a tiny human woman with an over large head and pointed elf like ears. She stood not more than 4 inches tall and had a double set of huge gossamer wings protruding from her shoulders similar to a dragonfly. Ari was what was known as a woodlands pixie, and as such her appearance took on a variety of green hues; a natural defence to help pixies blend into their surroundings. Her head of long hair was a deep emerald shade, her slanted eyes were a bright cat like colour, and her skin had a pale green hue that seemed to shimmer in the light. Like all members of her kind, she let off an aurora, a light of sorts, that flickered through every shade of green imaginable, from emerald to turquoise depending with her mood. Now she was a deep shade of emerald due to what I assumed was guilt for scaring the hell out of me.

“Well you would have known if you had been here when I left like you were supposed to be,” I snapped at her, harsher that I intended, “What were you doing that was so important that you couldn’t be with me to meet the Circle?”

She flinched at the sound of the Circle’s name, her aurora seemed to go out completely. It said all I needed to know. She had been scared so she tried to not be around when I had left. While I understood her trepidation at meeting them, I was still irritated that my companion had left me to face my greatest fear alone.

As a general rule, pixies don’t like witches. This is due to a centuries old traditional witchcraft which uses pixie dust as a base. Contrary to the common belief, pixie dust is not the happy, sparkly, starry stuff you see in the movies, books, and T.V. shows around the world. When a pixie dies, their bodies natural disintegrate to ash so that their soul and powers can be returned to the earth from where they came. Eventually, much like a phoenix, the pixie is the reborn from their own ashes. A pixie can be reborn a multitude of times, and each version of the pixie carries the inherent knowledge of its previous form. This is where the idea came from that fairy folk are immortal.

In other words, pixie dust is the bodily ash of a pixie that has not been returned to the earth, and therefore cannot be reborn. It is the only known way that a pixie can be truly killed permanently. Though forbidden now by most modern covens, there are still some older witches who believe that the old ways are the best ways and utilise not only pixie dust but also blood magic and other forms of dark sorcery. So it becomes obvious why pixies don’t care for witches very much.

So how did I end up with a pixie as a familiar being a sort of witch myself? A few years ago I was sent with the Aratus by the Council to investigate a coven of witches known now as the Nine of Obsidia. They were deeply entrenched in the old ways of magic, and were ravaging the local fairy populations, as well as hunting humans and other members of the supernatural community for their blood and organs. When I finally tracked them down, I interrupted them mid ceremony where Ari and a few of her brothers and sisters were about to be used as a sacrifice.

I was so disgusted and horrified with what I saw in that clearing, I still have nightmares about that night to this day. I ordered for the instant beheading of every single one of the Nine, ignoring the direct orders of the Council to capture them alive. I had not been willing to risk the lives of my men and more innocent people by dragging the dangerous and obviously insane coven back to Delphi. The Council retaliated by suspending me indefinitely as punishment for my disobedience. I didn’t mind.

Eight days later the Carpathians initiated a surprise attack on the coast of the Mediterranean and the Aratus refused to fight without me. I was called back to the fold and reinstated as if nothing had happened at all. Ari then swore herself to my service in gratitude for saving her family. About a year later we had found that an unusual bond had formed, and Ari had effectively become my familiar. To my knowledge I was the only witch that had a pixie familiar.

I watched her sitting there looking miserable and I knew I couldn’t stay mad at her after everything we had been through. Also I was too tired to waste energy on it.

I sighed and dropped the subject, knowing she wouldn’t tell me anything I didn’t already know. “So,” I drawled, “did you get them?”

“What?”

“The gnomes under the porch of the house on the corner. That’s where you were isn’t it?”

Her eyes gleamed with glee, and she suddenly turned a vibrant neon colour in happiness. “Yes, got good. Pesky pests. Stuck in mud in garden shed. Humans have ‘prise in morn time.” Pixies and gnomes also don’t like each other. But that is a story for another time.

“Surprise, Ari, they have a surprise in the morning,” I corrected her. I shook my head amused at her antics, “I hope you weren’t too obvious about it. You wouldn’t want the humans to figure out it was pixies and come looking.”

“No, no, no. Not know.”

I let myself flop back down on the bed sleep trying to creep back in. Ari’s voice broke through once again.

“So done now. All agreed? Go home time soon?” She asked.

I nodded with closed eyes, “Almost. The witches have agreed. The High Priestess will not be coming, but a young woman who I think will be taking her place in the future will be acting as her proxy. The illusive Mr. Price hasn’t agreed yet, but he will, I am sure of it. We will be hearing from Mara tomorrow with the official answer. As for Hennessey…” I veered off, unsure how to answer. I honestly couldn’t tell if he would agree or not. I just hope my last plea struck something in him.

“He come, he agree. Me sure. Worry not.” I smiled at her attempted to comfort me.

“We will see won’t we? I did break his heart after all, and it isn’t like he doesn’t have enough things to worry about between his pack and running half the criminal underworld.”

“He come, he come, he come…” she chirped back.

“I hope so…”I snuggled deep into the blankets once again, patting the pillow by my head, “Come sleep now. We have a big day tomorrow, and you are not getting out of it this time.” I gave her a one eyed glare. She had the decency to look sheepish as she laid down next to me.

When I finally let sleep take me, the Sandman adorned my dreams with sultry images of red silk sheets and decadent chocolate eyes.