Broken Heart 05 Over My Dead Body by Michele Bardsley Read Free Book Online Page B

other kind of electro-whatsit. I couldn’t stick my hand down all the way to the bottom and pry out whatever was lodged there.
    Crap.
    I grabbed a mini flashlight (I had several) and pointed it down into the post. The tiny glow and its buzzing stopped. I turned off the light—and they returned. Weird. As much as I didn’t want to mess up the delicate internal electronics, I was itching to know what the hell was going on.
    Usually, I’d get out my plasma cutter, but Velthur had taught me a trick or three. I could use my Family power to create a water “laser” that was faster and more accurate (and okay, more fun). I kept a bucket of water near the worktable, and in no time I’d created a thin ribbon of water that sliced the post like a hot knife through a cold stick of butter (Mmm . . . butter . . . on fresh baked bread with a dollop of jam).
    The post dropped into two pieces. I propped the bottom half up and peered into it. The light at the base was easier to see and the buzzing easier to hear. I couldn’t quite figure out what was flickering. It wasn’t the electronics. They glowed blue, and this light was goldish.
    Then I noticed a thin red string stuck on the far side. I plucked it from where it had snagged and followed the material down. My forefinger pressed something pointy.
    “Ow!” I yanked my hand out, and up came the string. The tiny cut on my finger healed instantly. My attention returned to the thread. Dangling at its end was a big, black thorn. I looked at it in amazement. “What the hell are you?”
    “Pixie trap,” said a tiny voice. “Thank Brigid you figured it out. And I thought humans were dumb.”
    I looked down. The gold light was perched on the edge of the work table. I could just make out a humanoid shape—and only because I had vamp vision. To human eyes, it probably looked like sunshine glinting off a spinning coin. “Um . . . hello?”
    “Now, don’t go makin’ me change me mind about humans.” The voice was so small, I couldn’t determine if it was male or female. The light rose from the table and hovered in front of my nose. “You saved me life,” it announced, “and so I am yours until I can return the favor in kind.”
    “What?”
    It sighed. “I’m sidhe, okay? And you saved me. I’m bound to you until I save your life. That’s how it works.”
    “How what works?”
    “The baking of delicious cakes and fruit pies,” said the fairy in disgust. “Magic, you idiot. And here I thought bein’ beholden to a human wouldn’t be so bad—not like the giant. Always steppin’ on me, and once the bastard accidentally swallowed me. We’re immortal, for the love of Brigid! I don’t die just because I have to sit for a day or two inside a giant’s gullet. Only one way out, y’know. They don’t have pixie therapy. I have to live with the trauma of being shit out the pimply ass of—”
    “I get it,” I interrupted. “So, are you sidhe or a pixie?”
    “Same difference. Sidhe aren’t just one kind. There’s lots. Is this where we live?” It buzzed around, then returned to hover by my nose again. “By all the saints! You love dirt like the giant loved his brick cake. Tsk, tsk. I may be bound to you, but I refuse to live in squalor. Even the giant made me a nice nest, with lots of shiny things, and brought me honey every day. You do have honey, don’t you?”
    I wanted to ask Do you ever shut up? But instead I mumbled, “You got a name?”
    “Spriggan.”
    Knowing its name wasn’t helpful in determining gender, but really, did it matter? I had no intention of keeping it around. First, it was annoying. Second, it was giving me a headache. And third, it was annoying.
    “Okay, Spriggan. You’re free. I hereby relinquish you of all obligations to me. Go on. Shoo.”
    “I don’t do shoo.” It rose about an inch, directly in my line of sight. I crossed my eyes trying to stay focused on it. “You are never to shoo me again. Magic can’t be bossed around. You