Chapter 10

Hobbits, Pixies and Werewolves?

 

“Today, the shire.”

“Where hobbits live?”

“Lived, Danielle. They’re extinct, but the ruins are still intact and really fascinating.”

“Can we see fairies again too?”

He shook his head. “Pixies dwell there, but they’re a mischievous lot. We need to avoid them.”

“Why, what could they do to us?”

“They’d definitely kidnap you.”

She gasped when he tapped her nose playfully. “Why?”

Ethan chuckled.

“Now what are you laughing about? And you didn’t answer my question, just like you didn’t tell me if werewolves are real or not.”

“Werewolves are real. It’s another curse, like vampirism, but much worse.”

“Do they come out when the moon is full?”

“Yes.”

“Can they turn you with a bite or scratch?”

“I’m afraid so.”

“Eat flesh?”

“Horrible, isn’t it?”

Danielle swallowed hard and nodded. “They’re really for real? All the crazy myths about them are true?”

“That’s what I just said, isn’t it?” His words didn’t have an impatient tone about them, but she wondered if he ever got tired of her constant questions.

“And what about the pixies? Would they really abduct me? And what about you?”

He laughed again.

“What is so funny?” she demanded.

Still laughing, he said, “Darling, it’s adorable when you ask me all these questions. The innocence is charming. So curious and eager, you are.”

“You still didn’t answer my question.”

“Pixies would love nothing more than to take a pretty thing like you captive. They wouldn’t be interested in me, just females. I don’t know why that is. But don’t worry, I know what they don’t like, and I came armed with it.”

“What’s that?”

“Salt.”

“No way!” She tilted her head to study him. “Where do you have that hiding?”

“I put some in my pocket.”

She laughed with a snort, then turned to look out the window when Ethan pulled the Land Rover onto a dirt road that twisted like a brown ribbon through green rolling hills.

They’d been back from their honeymoon for a couple of weeks now, and the guards had not let up. They’d managed to gain more privacy in their home, and today they’d managed to coax the men into allowing this outing only because the location was so secluded and pixies were the only danger. As Ethan parked, and the security detail parked, Danielle lifted her sketchpad and pencil from the backseat then she stepped out of the vehicle. “Can I draw pixies?” she asked.

“Mrs. Deveroux,” the guard with the French accent said, “you mustn’t get too close to them.”

“I won’t.” She rolled her eyes wondering if she’d ever be able to keep track of all the men protecting them. They changed daily. This French guy had only been around today so far.

Ethan gathered her hand. “Darling,” he whispered in a gentle but warning tone, “you must remain close to me. They don’t like men, so if you’re near me, they shouldn’t bother you.”

“Okay.” She leaned toward his ear. “Are they really that dangerous?”

“Trust me, you need to stay close to me,” he gave his pocket a pat, “and the salt.”

Danielle really wanted to laugh again, but thought better of it, and took in this fantastic English landscape. It was another scene that was perfect for a painting. With rolling hills, long grasses waving in the wind, and thick trees dotting the scene like oversized green mushrooms. The names of paint colors flitted through her thoughts. Grinning, she believed these paintings would be marketable in London and she wouldn’t have to rely on Ethan for everything.

Ethan led her down the hill on the right to another smaller hill jutting from the bigger one, and as they neared it, she realized she was seeing a real life hobbit hole. The stained glass windows were clouded with dirt and many of them were broken. The rounded door was mottled with peeling blue paint, and hung at an odd angle by one remaining and rusty hinge. She dropped Ethan’s hand and flipped to a blank page to start drawing.

Ethan smiled, stood behind her, slid his hands around her waist and dropped his chin on her shoulder.

“Um, Ethan, you know I can’t draw with you so close.”

He said nothing as he pushed her hair from her neck and brushed his mouth along the exposed flesh he’d revealed.

She shuddered. “Still not helping.” Her gaze fell on the men standing nearby, staring. “And we’re not exactly alone.”

“Think of it like those people on reality television,” He mumbled while nibbling her ear. “They forget the camera is there all of the time, right? So forget about the audience.”

“I can’t do that, and I want to draw. Please, Ethan, behave.”

“Very well.” He released her and took one step back, then lunged forward fanning a handful of salt in front of her.

She was so startled she stepped back, located a rock with her foot, lost her balance, and fell backwards into the long grass, dropping her pencil and sketchbook. She then found herself staring up into the tiny, but violent faces of several … pixies? If they were pixies, they truly were frightening creatures with their long skinny bodies, claw-tipped fingers and sharp-looking bared teeth. Like sadistic fairies. And they smelled of … rotten apples. The pungent scent overpowered the more pleasant fragrance of the grass and flowers.

Ethan cursed and ordered, “Shut your eyes!”

She did and then felt a spray of salt pelting her. Danielle was too surprised to look, and waited for Ethan to tell her when it was okay to open her eyes. But he never did, she felt him tug her from the ground and snatch her into a protective hug. “I have never seen them be so aggressive before. I can hardly believe it! You were surrounded by men. They never should have even come so close.”

She cracked her eyes open, and could only see his shirt. “Really? What exactly just happened?”

He leaned back just enough to make eye contact. “It was an organized attack. Virtually a swarm. And they knew what they were after.”

“They must know,” the blond-haired guard said.

“Know what?” Danielle asked.

“They must know who you are.”

“What do you mean? That I cured a vampire?”

“I think he’s right,” Ethan said. “I never considered that other creatures would be interested in you too.”

“I don’t understand what they could possibly want from me.”

Ethan and the other men looked just as dumbfounded.

“Maybe we should leave.”

“But—the hobbit house. I didn’t get to even start a drawing.” She cast a longing look toward the round structure, or tried to, as she bent down to collect her art supplies. Every single one of the guards had gathered to form a tight circle around her and Ethan. She couldn’t see much else.

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea.”

“Please. I want to see inside of it so badly, and we came all the way out here…”

“I could check it out first,” offered the Frenchman.

“Good idea,” said Ethan.

The man ambled off, and Danielle still couldn’t see much of anything. She just heard the one hinge groan as the door was opened and then the heavy footfalls of the guard as he entered the miniature dwelling.

After a few moments of listening to his boots clomp around on what sounded like wooden floors, he then came out and said, “There’s no sign of pixies inside. It’s all clear.”

Ethan considered her for a beat or two or three, before he said, “All right, but only for a moment. And you can’t sketch while you’re here. I want you to just take mental notes and start doing that in the Land Rover.”

“Okay,” she agreed quickly, hoping he wouldn’t soon change his mind.

It was almost comical the way they kept close to her and worked themselves into the small doorway as one, only thinning enough to squeeze their way in. Ethan wouldn’t even allow air to pass between his chest and her back as they stepped inside, and hunched their backs so they could fit.

But once she got a good look of the interior she smiled and gasped, “Wow!”

The furnishings were still there, rugs and curtains and books. It was as if the inhabitants had not simply become extinct but vanished suddenly. “Why? Why are their belongings still here?”

“I don’t know. No one knows.”

“But don’t the books tell their story? Shouldn’t the information inside them be recorded? Reprinted?”

“The information has been recorded and then returned here. And the fey have actually reprinted the works that are here.”

“So then they know the history?”

“I’m afraid not. The books are simply filled with recipes, gardening tips, and hobbit fairytales. There was no history to be found.”

“Weird.”

“Yes,” Ethan whispered into her ear. “Are you taking mental notes of this? Would you like to see the kitchen and the bedroom?”

Danielle sucked in a breath. “Please.”

They moved from room to room in this funny tight huddle and then traveled back outside.

When they had more headroom, she spun around and hugged Ethan. “Thank you for not freaking out and letting me see that. I can’t wait to start painting.”

Ethan smiled, and kissed her. “You’re welcome, darling.” He surveyed their surroundings cautiously, then said, “I’m terribly sorry, but while I would like to show you more here, I think it would be best if we left.”

Danielle took a moment to devour the rest of the landscape and then nodded. She could have spent hours exploring that place, but not with creepy little pixies with a hunger to snatch her lurking about.

“What was with those things, those pixies? Why did they want me? Are they cursed like vampires are?”

“No. They’re beings of nature, just as fairies are. I don’t understand their interest in you.”

She shuddered.

“It does make me wonder, however…” Ethan said as he hooked one arm behind her knees and one behind her back to lift her into his arms.

“Wonder what?” she asked, locking her arms around his shoulders.

“What other beasts have become fascinated in you?”

“Oh, now that’s just wrong! Having vampires after me is quite enough.” And of course, her thoughts were on werewolves and if they too would want to take her. Chills shimmied up her spine and she shivered again. Then her blood froze at what she could see flying directly behind them as they traversed back to the cars. That horde of evil sprites was crowding them, snapping their teeth and making snarling buzzing sounds. The guards behind her and Ethan were swatting at them like they were an obnoxious mass of mosquitoes. “Why are they following?”

Ethan didn’t look; he just scowled and kept walking, accelerating his pace. When they got to the Land Rover he shoved her into the driver’s side door, pushed her to the passenger’s side, then jumped in next to her and slammed the door. The mini-monsters paid no attention to the men who casually filed into the other vehicle because they had their hideous little faces squished against the windows. She’d certainly have nightmares after this. “Will they come into the city too?”

He tugged her to his side as he revved the engine and cranked the music to drown out the spooky noises they were making against the glass. “No, darling, they’d die there. They’re extremely susceptible to pollution.”

She slanted another look at the flying beasts. “But won’t the exhaust kill them then?”

Danielle followed his gaze as he considered the pixies in the rear view mirror, and gasped when one of them stiffened and then dropped dead. “Well, I guess that answers my question.”

Silence hung between them, as more pixies dropped off, which encouraged the rest to finally fall away.

“I can’t believe it…”

“Hm,” he agreed.

“And I thought getting married would solve some of our problems.”

Danielle clung to her husband until they neared London and she knew the pixies were no longer a threat. “Ethan?”

“Yes, love.”

“Are there any creatures like that that I need to worry about at home? Trolls? Zombies? Demons? The boogie man?”

She gulped when his reply took a long time in coming. “Not that I know of.” And that was his answer...?

 

* * * * *

After a couple of weeks at home without any monster attacks Danielle felt like she could relax. She created paintings of the shire and the hobbit hovels. She knew they weren’t as accurate as she would have liked. She simply hadn’t had enough time to study them. But the happy-looking landscapes did help her forget the frightening pixies. And that was enough for now, plus she could sell these paintings and pull some of her own income. She went to the office, where Ethan was doing the budget, to show him her latest piece.

Danielle opened the door and stared as Ethan fumbled with something in his hands before stuffing it into a drawer, as if he were hiding it.

He sat upright and grinned, attempting to look innocent and completely flunking at it.

“What was that?”

“Nothing important.”

“You nearly dropped it.”

“You startled me, darling.”

“It looks to me like you’re hiding something.”

He visually swallowed.

“Ethan, it looked like a pair of glasses. Do you need reading glasses?”

His lips thinned as he guiltily pulled the drawer open and removed the item in question. Yes, they were glasses, and she bubbled into laughter.

Ethan confessed, “I required spectacles before I was turned. It seems that particular ailment has returned. I was mortified when I realized I needed a prescription.”

She swallowed, attempting to drown out the next set of snickers. “I still love you, even if you wear glasses.”

He stared at them as if they made him less of a man.

Maybe changing the subject would help. “Um, anyway … look what I painted.” She held the art in front of him, with one edge resting on the desk.

He squinted at it and then propped the glasses on his nose. Dang, he was cute with those on.

“It’s lovely. You’ve really captured the shire quite well.”

“Thank you. Do you think someone will buy it?” she said, though she was still thinking about the glasses and how good he looked wearing them. Setting the painting down onto the desk, she moved around it and dropped into his lap.

“Of course they would, but I think you should display it here.” His arms curved around her waist.

“I need something to do as a job, and I figure I won’t be allowed to get any work outside of the home, will I?” She ran one finger along the frame and then trailed her fingers through his hair.

“Unfortunately that wouldn’t be safe, though I would allow it, if things were … less perilous.” The pads of his fingers were traveling the length of her spine from her tailbone to her hair and back.

“Really? You’re not trapped in the Victorian era so much that you expect me to sit home and embroider pillows?”

Ethan laughed. “I’m modern enough.”

She caressed the rim of his glasses again. “And look how hip you look in spectacles.”

Smiling, Ethan said, “You’re quite fond of these, aren’t you?”

“Yes, they look really good on you. You shouldn’t have been ashamed of this need.” She could feel the smile on her face as she fanned her fingers over his chest and then palmed his pectoral muscle. That smile stretched further when she heard him hiss at the touch.

Ethan wasn’t smiling when he curled his hand around her nape and tugged her forward for a kiss. His lips were parted, his gaze was hungry. She could feel the cold rims touching her cheek when their mouths molded.

As they ended the kiss and simply snuggled, he said, “I suppose it doesn’t hurt too much to be mortal, even if I need the assistance of prescription eyewear.”

“Good, I’m glad you’re willing to stick it out.”

“All the way, baby. Till we’re old and gray!”

“With arthritis and carpal tunnel?”

“Yes, of course.”

“And hemorrhoids? And bunions?”

He chuckled. “Maybe you should stop before I’m scared half out of my wits.”

The phone rang then and Ethan answered it, listened intently for several beats and then hung up with an abrupt goodbye.

“Who was that?”

“Beon.”

“About?”

“The room is ready. We have two weeks…”