Persie Merlin and the Witch Hunters - Bella Forrest Page 0,90
I patted the canvas bag by my feet.
“Nathan O’Hara, I couldn’t love you more right now.” She guzzled down another few mouthfuls, oblivious to what she’d just said. I cast a discreet look at Persie, who hit me with an “I told you so” smile. I knew I shouldn’t read too much into it, what with Genie still being feverish and hopped up on delicious broth and sugary soda, but those words would spin around in my head for days to come. I just had to remind myself that it wasn’t me she loved—it was still much too soon for that—but the moon-melons.
Fortunately, Persie saved me from falling into a downward spiral of overthinking. “Does this mean we’re doing it? We’re going to help Reid with his curse?”
“It would appear so,” I replied, remembering to take a breath. “Is it hot in here, or is it just me?” I fanned my face with my hand, knowing my cheeks must have been purple right about now.
Genie deftly scooped up her bowl and sipped the hearty soup. “I think it’s this. My insides feel all warm and toasty, like a big, fluffy stomach hug,” she said between slurps. Thanks to her Atlantean constitution, I guessed the surface world medication was making her loopy. And it was utterly adorable. If I didn’t have the shadow of helping out her killer looming over me, I’d have watched her for hours. Suddenly, she sat up like a gopher popping out of its hole and yelped, “Ooohhh, you know what would be the best idea ever? Let’s let the pixies out! I feel like I haven’t seen them in aaaages.”
Persie clasped her hands together. “Pretty please?”
I didn’t try to protest—it was always futile. Besides, with Genie still on the mend, I would’ve done just about anything to make her happy. I didn’t say that, of course, and I put on a fairly decent act of reluctance as I got up and went to the pixies’ orb. Now that the pixies had their color back and didn’t need any more tonic, Boudicca and I had made peace. She fluttered her eyelashes at me as I approached, while Cynane zoomed around in circles and Spartacus got on his knees and pretended to bow to me.
“You’re going to behave, right?” I stared them down as I opened up the iris.
Boudicca flashed a mischievous grin that said, “Probably not, but you’re still going to let us out because you’re as soft as pudding.”
With the iris open, they flew out and made a beeline for Genie. I observed with interest as they smothered her in kisses, Boudicca cooing softly and stroking Genie’s face. This was unusual—they always went for Persie first. Persie didn’t seem to mind, though, wearing a content smile as she watched her pixies ladling adoration all over her best friend. Cynane perched on Genie’s shoulder and stroked her silver hair softly, while Spartacus marched back and forth on top of Genie’s head, preparing to do a high dive into the bowl of noodles.
“No,” Persie warned, waggling a finger at him. Sulking, he plopped down on the center of Genie’s head and crossed his arms. He certainly put the two ladies to shame with his pouting skills, though I knew he’d soon get over it.
I walked back to my seat. “It’s strange… They seem to know that something happened to Genie.” The pixies possessed a selective kindness, but I’d never seen them quite so attentive to Genie. Nor had I seen them be so gentle with anyone. Usually, Persie got the lion’s share of their affection, and even that tended to devolve into a rough sort of love, with hair stroking quickly turning into hair pulling.
Genie giggled, rubbing her cheek against Boudicca’s tiny one. “I missed you!”
Boudicca clung to Genie’s face, hugging it with her eyes closed, and Cynane wrapped herself up in Genie’s hair like a blanket. On top of her head, Spartacus had snuggled up into a fetal position, his snores startlingly loud for one so small. Evidently, the feeling was mutual.
“They’re still attuned to Necromancy.” I mused out loud, noticing that their bioluminescent spots had turned a lilac shade. “And even the briefly dead carry a residual trace of their death long after resurrection.” I wondered if that was why the Grendel had snorted, too, having felt Genie’s joy at being alive again. Goodness, monsters really were remarkable. They had more nuances than I’d ever be able to observe in my lifetime.