Stepping into Alyssa’s clinic, I came face to face with my first real life leprechaun. They were a common enough sight on TV—Graham Ferguson being the most famous of them all with his late night talk show, and I had to admit I enjoyed his sharp and often lascivious humor. Loki and I had spent many nights curled up on the couch together watching him wheedle incredibly personal details out of his celebrity guests. There was something about leprechauns that encouraged people to spill their most embarrassing and intimate secrets, though whether it was their almost childlike appearance, or some kind of power they possessed, I wasn’t sure.
They generally aren’t as short as Hollywood portrays them, varying in height between four and five feet tall, but they’re always easily recognizable by their fiery hair, pointed ears and craggy features. The patient receiving Alyssa’s care when I arrived was on the taller end of the spectrum, the thick thatch of fire red hair curling atop his head flattened from the baseball cap sitting on the bed next to him.
“Pixie bites are nothing to mess around with, Dermot. You know how easily they can become infected,” Alyssa was saying, shaking her head at her diminutive patient.
“Aye, they’re vicious little buggers,” he replied, his thick brogue lending a sing-song quality to his voice.
No wonder leprechauns and the other Fair Folk are known for leading people astray. A voice like that could convince an Eskimo to buy ice.
Spying me in the doorway his childlike face split into a wide grin. “You didn’t tell me ye got yeself a lovely young assistant. Are you here to give me my sponge bath, lass?” he asked, waggling thick red eyebrows at me, causing me to blush scarlet. I also understood why they had a reputation for being perverted little devils.
Spinning in her chair, Alyssa’s expression turned to one of surprise and then affectionate irritation when she saw me.
“Mind your manners, Dermot! Riley is a friend, which means hands off to you.”
“I wasna planning on doing anything with me hands,” he replied, making a show of licking his lips and flashing me an audacious wink. From anyone else the action would have been lewd and repulsive, but from the charismatic leprechaun, it was amusing and somewhat flattering.
“I’m not sure you could handle the wolf,” I taunted with a grin.
“Dinne worry lass, I’d have ye rolling over and begging for a belly scratch in no time.”
“All right you two, that’s quite enough,” Alyssa declared, her pupils dilated and her cheeks flushing to match her own fiery locks. Evidently our playful banter was getting her a little stoned.
Doing my best to look chastised, I schooled my expression into one of contrite obedience, though even Alyssa’s schoolmarm frown didn’t stop the corners of my mouth from twitching in amusement. It was almost sinfully good to feel something other than fear and guilt, even if it was only for a few moments. It didn’t help that Dermot flagrantly ignored her warning and continued to grace with me a variety of flirty looks.
Alyssa frowned as she jabbed a finger in Dermot’s direction and said, “You. Out.”
Hopping down from the bed, the leprechaun puffed up his chest and smoothed his hands over the front of his dark green overalls, an embroidered patch over his heart reading “O’Malley’s Pest Control Service.” Pushing his cap down over his wild curls he winked at me as he swaggered past, whistling to himself.
“And if it festers it will serve you right!” she called after him, though her voice lacked any true bite.
“Well, he’s quite the character,” I said once Dermot had reached the bottom of the stairs, chuckling and shaking my head.
“He’s a scoundrel,” Alyssa replied, even as her expression softened. “He knows better than to try and clear out a pixie nest without protective gear, but no matter how many times I tell him, he just won’t listen. Stubborn as a mule that one,” she added as she began cleaning up her supplies.
“Pixies are poisonous?”
“Very. To mundanes at least. A single bite can kill a child within hours and put an adult in a coma. They’re as far from mundane fairytales as can be. That’s why Dermot and his kin have such a thriving business. For folks like us it’s more the after effects of the bite that we have to worry about. They have a nasty habit of becoming infected, especially when one is a stubborn ass and doesn’t get them treated right away even though they know they should,” she explained, rising from her chair and walking over to a bright red trash bag marked biohazard. “The infection is easy enough to treat. Unfortunately, I haven’t found a cure for the stubbornness yet.”
Watching her bustle about, my mood darkened once more. I had to wonder if this was the last time I would see her. I knew even less about her than I did Holbrook, but just as I had with him, I felt a strange kind of kinship towards her that wasn’t just from the intoxicating pheromones she pumped out.
Finally giving me her full attention she asked, “So, what’s going on?” Seeing me shift from one foot to the other, her brows creased in concern. “Is everything okay?”
“Not really,” I confessed, wringing my hands in front of me.
“Are you hurt? Did something happen to Darius?” she asked, her voice quivering on Holbrook’s name. It was obvious there was still a lot of emotion there, and although I was rather attached to Holbrook myself, I felt a pang of sympathy for her.