With a wry smile, I lift my eyes. “Now you’re just fishing for compliments.”
“No, I have a theory—maybe your magic is responding to mine.” He leans down, meeting me at eye level. “My sparkles just aren’t visible.”
The air whooshes from my lungs, leaving me blinking at him.
He straightens and steps out the door. “I’ll see you tomorrow. Have a pleasant evening, Kathleen.”
“You too,” I manage, softly shutting the door. Then I rest my forehead against the wood, sure I’m probably glowing like a sparkler now.
“That was uncomfortable,” Rowan says from behind me. “If you’re determined to have a summer fling, I can direct you toward half a dozen local men who are all better choices than Ash.”
I yip, whirling around. “Where’d you come from?”
The owl sits on his living room perch. Like I’m dimwitted, he slowly says, “Well, I wasoutside, and now I aminside.”
“How much of that did you hear?”
“Enough that I’m feeling a little nauseous.”
“I didn’t misunderstand, did I? Ash was flirting with me?”
“I’m afraid so.”
“But I’m apixie.”
“I don’t think that could escape his notice.”
“High fae rarely date pixies. The chance of eventually marrying and having magicless children is too high.”
Sure, the couple’s offspring might inherit the high fae’s magic, but it’s not a guarantee. And as my grandmother has drilled into my head since I was old enough to start looking at boys, pixie magic cannot be passed unless both parents are pixies.
“Any fae child may be born without magic, even with perfectly pedigreed high fae parents.” Rowan's condescending tone softens. “Look at Anna.”
“Anna…Ash’s sister?”
“Yes.”
“She doesn’t have magic?”
“No.”
“So…maybe Ash doesn’t care?”
Rowan laughs, but there’s no mirth behind it. “Believe me, he does. He’ll never get serious about a pixie.”
“But you said…”
“That you should be careful.”
I frown. “Marshall doesn’t seem to like him much either.”
“You met Marshall?”
“I met a lot of people today.”
I head back to the kitchen to put groceries away. He follows me, apparently not feeling as antisocial as he was this morning.
“You seem to know a lot about tea,” I say. “Can I ask you a few questions?”
