Free Fairy Magic by Ella Summers Page B

ago. She dialed his number.
    Xanthus picked up after a few rings, his deep, seductive voice a little slice of wickedness. “Xanthus’s love line.”
    Naomi choked back a laugh. “Hello, Xanthus.”
    “Naomi.” His voice lifted to a more decent octave. “What a pleasure to hear from you.”
    In the background, a woman was moaning. She sounded like a fairy. Naomi couldn’t tell if she was moaning in pain or pleasure. Knowing Xanthus, probably both.
    “Bad time?” she asked him.
    “No, of course not. Never for you, Naomi. What can I do for you?”
    “I have something for you.”
    “And I have something for you,” he said, his voice smooth enough to peel the clothes off a fairy. Which was probably what he was doing right now.
    “Not this time, honey,” Naomi told him, coating her words with sugar. A little sugar never hurt anyone. “The something I have for you goes by the name of Cyrus. He says you know each other.”
    Xanthus’s voice grew serious. “Cyrus has been missing for a week.”
    “I found him dirty and bloody in a basement full of creepy psycho supernaturals. Do you think you could look after him for a bit?”
    “Of course,” he replied immediately. “Anything for a friend. Meet me in front of the entrance to the underground at the central train station.”
    “See you soon,” Naomi said, hanging up. “To the central station.”
    Marek nodded, then sped off down the street. She’d thought the spirit realm was hell. She was wrong. Hell was being stuck inside of a car with Marek at the wheel. By the time they reached the train station, Naomi would gladly have traded this ride for a few minutes with the beasts of hell. She was glad she hadn’t challenged Marek to a race like she had the commandos. He seemed to think the tram tracks were a passing lane during times of heavy traffic.
    As they pulled up to the station, Naomi spotted Xanthus waiting in front of an escalator that led underground. He was wearing a shiny gold shirt and skin-tight black jeans tucked inside his sparkling cowboy boots. Subtle he was not. His dark hair was heavily styled. It must have taken him at least an hour to arrange it so that it looked like he’d just rolled out of bed. His cheeks had a warm glow over his olive skin, a sign that the vampire fairy had snacked on someone’s neck recently. Maybe that moaning fairy’s neck.
    Naomi slid out of the car. Kissing the ground with relief as Marek looked on might have been a tad over the top, even for a fairy. She greeted the vampire fairy with a kiss. On the cheek, of course. There was no need to give him ideas.
    “Naomi,” Xanthus said, his dark green eyes sparkling as they took her in. It looked like she didn’t have to give him any ideas. He had plenty of his own. “You look beautiful, as always. I love the dress. It’s even more stunning than the outfit you were wearing earlier. I bet you’d look even better without it on.”
    “If you behave, someday you might find out,” she said with a slow arch of her brows.
    Fire flared in his eyes. “How could I possibly behave with you before me?”
    She caught his hand before it reached her. “You’ll just have to.”
    “You are a wicked temptress.” His gaze honed in on a tear in her skirt. “I heard you were at the gala at Nymphenburg Palace when all hell broke loose.”
    “How do you know that?”
    “You made quite the exit. Word gets around fast. Now, if we’re not going to play…” He allowed the sentence to dangle.
    She shook her head, keeping the smile planted on her face.
    He sighed, his eyes burning like a man who’d been denied relief from the illness plaguing him. At least she hadn’t lost her touch.
    “Is Cyrus here?” he asked.
    “Of course.”
    Naomi opened the door, waving Cyrus out. The two vampire fairies greeted each other with manly shoulder slaps. They shared heavy looks, the looks of survivors. Xanthus had been a prisoner of the Convictionites in London, trapped inside a tiny glass