Two of them got into a fight, flapping their wings and snapping at each other’s faces as they rolled in the air. One of them jettisonedoutfrom theirtussle.The tiny fairy careened past us with a small shrill scream, but Travis didn’t pull back fast enough. The fairy grazed his face.
“Ouch,” Travissaid touching his now bleeding cheek where the wings nicked him.
There it was. The catch.“Great,the tiny drunk fairies haverazor wings,” I breathed.
Pressing against his bleeding cut with a hand, Travis scowled at the room full ofminiatureflying blades. “We need to be careful.”
“No kidding,” I said. Something tickled the side of my arm,so I smacked at it. At the same timesomething cut into my hand and into my arm, the samesomething smooshedinto goo.Son of a bitch, that stung.
I cursed and turned to find my hand and arm were covered in my own bright red blood along with the bright sparkly purple guts of a fairy.
“Oh shit,Krystan,” Travis said, first looking at my arm then looking into the little girl’s room. As if with a collective thought, all the evil fairies buzzed into the air.Their tiny features were arranged in expressions of outrage.
“I think they are pissed you killed their buddy,” he said. He shouldered his way in front of me like I needed protecting. I gripped Batman with my bloody, goo covered hand and tried not to panic.
“There are way too many of them.” Travis said. “They’ll cut us to ribbons in seconds.”
I nodded. “Right. Time to run?”
“Yup,” he said. He slammed the door shut and we turned and hightailed it down the stairs. The buzzingbecame so loud it registered a roar before the crunchof wood breaking. The little assholes broke the damn door down. Cut it down more likely.
Runningdown the grand stairs that led to the white marble foyer, I knew we weren’t fast enough. The little assholes were going to get us.
What was worse? Death by gray blob monster, or killed by fairies?
I pushed out ideas ofhowmy pathetic obituary would read and jumped the last four stairs and to the ground level.My knees cracked under the impact, but I pushed past the pain and continued to sprint.Travis led us to the left into library where I imagined one would enjoy cigars, cognac, andlong boring talks about economics.
“Shit, what do we do?” I asked,sprinting behindhimtowardtheexpansivewhite marbledkitchencomplete with waterfall island and state of the art of appliances. The buzzing neared. Sweat popped out on my brow aspanic gripped my entire body.Too close, they were too close.Even if we split up, they could do the same and tear us to pieces.My heart nearly beat out of my chest.
“I’vegot an idea,”Travisyelled, his bat clattered to the ground. “Roll.”
I heard the command and without a second thought, I fell into a somersault on the ground, just out of reach from fluttering wings that barely kissed my neck and arms. A stinging itch where they’d touched was followed by warm blood welling and drippingdown.
The sounda strong, rushing wind coupled with a blast of heat let me know what Travis had done before I'd even come out of the roll.My body was immediately covered in sweat as the smoke cloyed my face and throat. My idiot partner was using the flame thrower in the house.I threw open theglassdoorstothe porch toescape the flamesand the nowpiercing scream of thefire alarm.Realizing Travis wasn’t following, I ducked back in and grabbed him by the elbow and dragged him outside.I pulledtoo hard and wefell onto our backs on the porch just as the fairies burst out of the house, shooting off into the sky.
Sirenswere approaching, but they were hard to hear over the loud crackle of fire and shoutingcomingfrom the other side of the house.Smoke billowed out from the kitchen.
“We’re alive,” Travis said, not bothering to sit up just yet. His words didn’t convey confidence.
Despite Travis’s offer,I insisted on driving back home from thePatel'sresidence.
“At leasttheypaid us for the four we killed,”Travissaidfrom the passenger seat, trying to lightenthe mood inthe mood in the car, but I wasn’t ready to stop sulking.“What were theodds most of them would dodge the flame thrower?”he added.
Knowing us? The odds were perfect to screw us out of any real lucky and any good money. I ground my teeth.The back of my neck and armsstill stung from theseveralshallow cuts their tiny razor wings had inflicted.
The real miracle was Mr. Patel had convinced Mrs. Patel not to sue us. When she found out it was her pristinekitchenwe’d set on fire, she screamed for what felt like hours
“You call yourselves professionals? You are nothing more than a couple hacks running around, blowing up other people’s property.You didn’t even manage to kill them. They could come back at any time. I don’t even feel safe letting mydaughter fall asleep in there tonight.”After insulting us in every possible way, she switched to yelling at us in some Indian language.A crowd had drawn near to watch the firefighters and Mrs. Patel cut me down at the knees.
I stepped back and let Travis handle the hysterical woman because he was the more diplomatic one. He assured herhusbandwe had a guarantee that if they came back, we would too.
However, each word she said sliced into me like a blade. Maybe it was the comment about her little girl not being safe, or because I was tired, but by the time she’d run out of steamI was ready to drive away until the van ran out of gas and then hop out on foot and walk as long as I could.
“Hey,we got them out of the house,”Travissaid, turning to mefrom the passenger seat, his voice lower and more direct than usual. “We madea littlemoney, and no one died. Let’s call it a win and hope they’lltell their rich friends.”
Sighing, I nodded and rolled my shoulders back. “You’re right. I’mgonnastop beingpissy.”
When I glanced at Travis, his attention was no longer on me, it waspastme. I followed his gaze to the cluster of flashing blue and red lights.
