“This place looks like somebody got out of Dodge in a hurry. I don’t get it.”

A small pssst sound gave them a start, causing both wolves to spin in its direction only to spy a small, frightened Pixie. She stood in a tiny pool of light that was coming in around the shuttered windows, and she hugged her fragile arms to her body, her large brown eyes changing colors rapidly as she spoke.

“I heard the news,” she squeaked. “That is the only reason I am coming forward-you Shadows helped us before, but this is so tragic, just so very wrong!” The Pixie glanced around again. “I’m not even supposed to be here, but I heard you’d come to this place last night… I hoped you’d come here in the early morning.”

Sasha gave Hunter a glance that told him to stay back. The small Pixie was beginning to turn blue-green, her glamour totally faded, which could only mean that she was scared half to death. Large tears slid down her cheeks and Sasha immediately knew this was the Pixie in the photo.

“We’ll help you,” Sasha said in a gentle voice. “But we have to know what’s going on.” She squatted down to bring her gaze more level to that of the small person before her. “What’s your name?”

“Pixie Gretchen,” she said, as two more large, opalescent tears rolled down the bridge of her button nose. She tossed her strawberry-blond curls away from her face and lifted her chin, obviously trying to be strong. “They killed her.”

“Who?” Sasha said carefully.

“Poor Desidera,” the Pixie whispered and then covered her face.

Sasha glanced at Hunter, who remained stoic. “I meant, who killed Desidera?”

“The spell-casters.” Gretchen lowered her palms away from her face.

This time Sasha didn’t just glance at Hunter, she held his gaze for a moment before returning her line of vision to the Pixie. “You mean the Vampires?”

The mention of Vampires made the Pixie dash back and forth within the pool of light for a few seconds.

“They must be the ones stealing our magick-but who knows how they’ve cast such a spell? Our magick has been waning for months. That’s why we’ve been in hiding. Desidera learned something by consorting with them… Penelope said she wasn’t herself since the night before last, and I’ve been waiting here for word… we all have. Then the night moths told the Faeries about Desidera’s flaming… oooohhhh… so horrible!”

Hunter cast a sidelong glance at Sasha.

“When was the last time you spoke to Penelope?” Sasha chose her words carefully, beginning to add up facts in her head as she spoke.

“Yesterday, when she got off from work in the afternoon… She works for Ethan McGregor, you know.” Gretchen looked between Sasha and Hunter. “What have you not told me?”

“When Penelope gets off work at Ethan’s, she comes directly here to work?” Hunter addressed the Pixie in a low, calm rumble, trying to keep his voice modulated.

“She used to… when we were open,” Gretchen said, now beginning to wring her hands. “But now she just comes by regularly to bring us honey and other supplies we need, as a friend. We, the Fae, are very private, and leaning on charity from those outside our community is very difficult indeed. That’s the only reason she started adding full shifts at that other place.”

“The Blood Oasis?” Hunter asked as gently as possible.

“Ohhh, that evil, evil place-yes!” The Pixie grabbed her hair with both hands and shook her head. “Penelope was going there too much and Desidera was worried about her, rightfully so. Penelope wanted Desi to dance there with her and I guess she finally gave in… and because the Vampires wanted her to join the club so badly, I think they let her in deeper than they even let Penelope. After that, Desi just wasn’t the same. She told us not to worry; she’d heard something that she had to tell Sir Rodney.” Gretchen bit her lip. “She was trying to help us, trying to be sure our magick would return. It had all come down!”

Sasha hugged herself, new worry roiling in her mind. So, Rodney was also playing games-he wasn’t just going to hook up with a lover; he was there to learn what Desidera had found out. For a moment, Sasha’s heart froze. Please, God, Sir Rodney couldn’t have killed that girl… But she shook the thought. It didn’t make sense. If Desidera was going to tell him something about those committing sorcery against his kingdom, killing Desidera would be the last thing he’d do. Besides, why would he have called her in to investigate the crime? It would have been easy for him to simply sweep the matter under the rug. A dead Phoenix in the paranormal community wouldn’t have shown up on her personal radar. And, if Desidera didn’t tell Penelope, then why did she end up dead? One thing was for sure, she needed to make a visit to Sidhe to get in the Seelie king’s face about withholding intel.

“Did Desidera tell you what she learned?” Sasha finally asked, bracing herself to deliver the bad news about Penelope.

“No. She wouldn’t tell us because she wanted to keep us out of it, wanted to protect us. She said it was too dangerous,” Gretchen replied, stifling a sob. “Not even Penelope could pry it out of her, and now Desidera is dead.”

“That’s not your fault,” Sasha said as she stared down at the distraught little being. “Did the night moths tell you anything else?” She glanced at Hunter and then back at Gretchen.

“No. I went into hiding as soon as I heard about Desidera. I should really go back to our secret mound,” Gretchen said, glancing around nervously. “I’ve been gone too long already.”

“But why wouldn’t you just have other Fae help you, then, instead of the Phoenixes?” Sasha said, trying to stay the Pixie’s leave.

“Sir Rodney said that for security reasons we should keep our fading-magick problem to ourselves until he could investigate,” Gretchen said in a bitter tone. “But Penelope saw our condition with her own eyes as we closed the tea salon temporarily… That is not common knowledge; I don’t believe McGregor even knows. Everything has been going fallow and so hard to cultivate the more our magick wanes. We’ve told Sir Rodney all of this, but his investigation is moving slowly-Thompson Loughlin hasn’t made a dent in things and we’re left at the mercy of fate! We had to eat.”

“Can you tell me what supplies Penelope used to bring?” Sasha asked gently.

“Yes… but why?” Gretchen looked from Sasha to Hunter.

“We’ll make sure you have supplies while all of this is being sorted out,” Sasha said, trying to soothe the Pixie while attempting to find a way to deliver the awful news.

“No, that will only draw attention. Upon the king’s orders, this condition we face is to remain a secret… and we are protected from the spell-casters behind the wrought-iron gate. Dark magick cannot penetrate iron, which is why it surrounds the garden… far enough away from us not to leach our power, and a barrier to anyone sending ill will.”

“Then how do you account for the fact that, iron gate or not, your powers are gone?”

The Pixie looked from Sasha to Hunter and back again, clearly perplexed.

“Either something got inside your gate that is impervious to iron or-”

“No, no, no!” the Pixie shrieked, covering her ears with her hands. “Then that means the monster who laid it here cannot be Fae, only we are allergic to the iron!”

Using her pointer finger, Sasha began drawing the sigil she’d seen in the dust on the floor. “Have you ever seen one of these? Do you know what it means?”

Gretchen threw her hands in the air and began screaming, running around in a circle. “Erase it, erase it!” she shrieked and then held her hands over her heart.

Sasha quickly wiped away the dust-drawn image and watched as the Pixie fell over, nearly faint.

Lifting herself to stare at Sasha, Gretchen’s bottom lip quivered as she spoke. “Where did you see such a horrible thing?”

“On Desidera’s and Penelope’s bodies,” Sasha replied as gently as possible.