Demon Hunting with a Dixie Deb - Lexi George Page 0,13
the tubing into the waiting receptacle with a musical ching.
The glass jar beneath the cage blazed blue and went dark. It was a trap, like the invisible fence. Someone, someone sick and twisted, was distilling—
The mechanism jerked to life again, and the prisoners wailed in despair. Exhaustion forgotten, Sassy jumped to her feet and pounded up the narrow, winding staircase that circled the tree. At the top of the steps was a small wooden platform.
The birdcage hanging from the tree limb was wrought iron, the kind available from any home or craft store. A hole had been cut in the top of the cage and covered with delicate wire mesh that had been sliced down the middle. Directly above the opening was a saucer that contained some kind of a syrupy liquid. Something tempting to fairies, Sassy suspected in growing outrage and horror. Bluebell nectar, honey cakes, or wine; the perfect offering to attract the tiny creatures. Lured by the promise of the sugary treat, they’d flutter up to the device to take a sip, like hummingbirds at a feeder, never suspecting the fluid was laced with something wicked. Drugged and lethargic, the fairies would tumble through the wire slit into the cage below.
If Sassy remembered her fairy lore correctly, iron was poisonous to the fae. Once inside the coop there would be no escape.
Hurrying across the little deck, Sassy knocked the saucer off the stand and jerked open the door of the hutch. The fairies swarmed out, shedding thick puffs of fairy dust into the air. The glittering particles blew into Sassy’s eyes, climbed up her nose, and coated her throat.
She sneezed. “Oh, my goodness, you’re welcome. Now, go away. Shoo. I think I’m allergic.”
The fairies ignored her and twittered around her head like a flock of excited sparrows. Sassy coughed and stepped back. Her right foot slipped off the boards, and she teetered on the edge of the tree stand, arms windmilling. She made a wild grab to keep from falling, her hand closing around the pipe and the mason jar dangling from the bottom of the fairy trap.
“Mother-of-pearl, that was close,” she said, pulling herself back onto the platform.
The glass jar came off in her hand. Sassy stared at the container with a mixture of fascination and revulsion. Fairy goo, she was holding a pot of concentrated fairy goo. She looked inside the container. It was gross and macabre, but she couldn’t help it. Like when she was eight years old and she stuck a straight pin in the vinyl pool toy Daddy Joel had bought her.
Curiosity killed more than the cat. Curiosity had killed her inflatable killer whale.
The stuff swirling against the glass was shimmering and viscous, like jellied starlight. Sassy tilted the jar to take a better look. The liquid shot out of the jar and squirted her in the face.
Disoriented and blind, Sassy staggered and fell off the platform, bouncing from branch to branch on the way down. She crashed through the thatched roof of the little hut and landed on the concrete floor.
With a groan, Sassy sat up. She was bruised and battered, she’d bonked her head on a limb as she fell, and there was a lump the size of an orange on her left ankle.
The shed was empty except for a pile of grimy blankets in one corner and a bucket of some kind. Good Lord, the smell was awful, a nauseating combination of sewage, rotten food, and body odor. Surely that bucket wasn’t a chamber pot? How medieval.
The interior of the little building was surprisingly well-lit. Glancing down, Sassy realized she was the light source. Her body was luminous.
“Oh, dear,” she said. “Maybe I shouldn’t have looked in that jar.”
The mound of rags stirred and rose from the floor. Shining eyes blinked at her from beneath a greasy snarl of long black hair.
“What jar, Sweetness and Light?” the man asked with a drunken sneer.
Sassy screamed.
Chapter Five
The man reeled across the shed and threw himself down beside her. He reeked of sour sweat and worse. He jerked her close and slapped a grimy hand over her mouth. He smelled horrible. Sassy thought she might faint from the stink.
“Shut your yap. She’ll hear you.” His words were sluggish. “She don’t like noise.” His grip tightened. “Well? If I let go, will you be quiet?”
Sassy nodded and he released her.
“All righty, then.” He propped himself on his elbows, as if sitting up was too much effort. “I was out of it. Didn’t realize