Fairy: Winter Wonderland free porn video

Winter Wonderland "Why is it so cold!" Rose wailed. "It's like this when winter hits up here." "Winter!" Winter is long rains and some snow, but not meters of it!" she protested. "Just be glad we cut west. I had originally decided we could go to Alaska. It's like this more than half the year." She wailed again. They had been lucky near Joliet when they had found a clan that had dealt with the local rat problem by converting the pests into food and furs. In return for aiding one of the hunts, they had each gotten warm fur clothes not unlike the Eskimo wore. But facing something twice his size with a stone spear like a Massai facing a lion charge was not his idea of fun. He had drawn up a boar spear, then showed them that by extending the shaft to 100mm before the crossbar, and beefing it up so the shaft was 4 mm across, they could use a combination of the same technique as the Europeans had against the wild pigs with the Massai practice of setting the butt against a surface, flipping it up and over them. When he told them that he might be able to have them made in Chicago, they had been ecstatic. "Hey, you're not the one that has to run around naked in this!" he protested. He had gone to a nest in Tennessee, and nearly frozen his ass off before they had gotten him inside. While it was fun being buried alive in warm nubile female flesh for three hours, the thought that he might have died worried him. Trillium had almost not allowed him to mate that night. She had held him as if her life would vanish if he did. After that they had reduced him only at the last minute, though the Joliet Faerie band had given his a set of clothes made for a male Fairy his size, which helped a lot. Witherod, who had joined them from one of the Big Bend Realms had the most fun. A Fairy with bright green hair who loved wearing red, Trillium had suggested they could use her as a Christmas ornament. After having it explained, Witherod would wait until the car was stopped, such as when they had to pause while snowplows cleared the highways, hang from the rear view mirror, and twirl herself with gentle kicks moaning to imitate a porn actress she had seen on a web site. When Rob had warned her to be careful, she had said she could hold on quite well, thank you. He didn't have to shove a bent wire up her ass to get her to stay. But the cold had finally depressed even her. Right now she could have been sleeping in a puppy pile of her sisters instead of braving meters of snow. But the adventure had called her. The contacts in Chicago had been odd. Maddie had reported that a woman had filled out an e-mail questionnaire, but there had been no response after that. The other oddly enough linked to a police E-mail account. ***** Detective sergeant Paddy O'Malley kicked the slush off his feet, cursing. He hated the weather, but love his hometown. He waddled up the stairs to the bull pen, nodded to others he saw, and stopped when he saw a man sitting patiently beside his desk. "Can I help you?" he asked in the basic Chicago flat well known to people who watch the news. The man stood. He was fifteen years younger than the detective, built like a solid wall of muscle. "My name is Rob." He took out a card, handing it to the sergeant. THE INNER WORLD ASSOCIATES Rob ROVING AGENT/REGIONAL DIRECTOR: [email protected] O'Malley looked at the card, pocketing it. "What did you need from me?" Rob sat back down. "I was notified by our head office that you had sent in a questionnaire with some odd answers, and was asked to stop by and discuss them with you." Paddy remembered the questionnaire. He'd been sitting in his apartment one sweltering hot August half in the bag when he'd clicked that damn fairy link. He had remembered when his Gran and he had come over. The bowl of milk she had put out every evening for the 'little people', the small figures that had come, dipping cups made of seed husks... "I don't know why I answered those damn questions. Never believed in Faerie." Not since Gran had died from Tuberculosis. Leaving him to face the Saint Margaret's home for Boys in Joliet. The Faerie hadn't saved her life, or taken him where he was safe from bullies. Rob watched him as if he could read his mind. He took a pad on the desk, jotting down a number. Unlike most corporate types, he used a simple Bic out of his own shirt. "If you don't mind, I would like to discuss this with you in a more private venue. I'll buy you dinner and a drink if you wish." He slid across the pad. "No pressure. If you don't show up, I'll understand." He looked around, then bent forward, his voice a soft whisper. "They are real, Sergeant. I can prove it to you." "What are you talking about?" "Kaitlin Murray O'Malley was your grandmother. She visited friend to the north in Windsor, but she had friends in Joliet too. Let's just say some old friends there gave you a thumbs up when we asked." He nodded pleasantly, and walked out. ***** O'Malley looked up into the sky. The snow had begun again, and the black sky fit his mood. He trudged through the snow, getting in his car and started it, letting the heater blow hot air into the vehicle. He pulled out the card, reading it again. Remembered the enigmatic message. Who could have known his Gran and still be alive? He hadn't though of Gran since the first week at the home. Since he'd learned that no one was going to protect him. He'd grown hard and mean. A stint in the Marines during Vietnam had mellowed him. When he came home, 6'4" tall, wide in the shoulders and as solid as a wall, he'd learned that violence was an answer, but not the only one. His thirty in the force was long passed, and if he survived three more years, he'd hit mandatory retirement age. In that time he had convinced more men to surrender than he had ever needed to fight. He'd drawn his weapon in five times in almost 40 years, and used it twice. Both times he'd put the man down with one shot. But life was soon going to be empty. He looked at himself at 65, and saw a man detached from all his moorings like the ship that had run aground in Subic Bay back in 71. They had spent three days getting it off the mudflats, and it was funny. He would be a joke to the young cops then. He shifted into gear, the tires whining on the hard packed snow. The city always assured themselves that the stations were clear. If anyone knew how important a police presence was, Chicago was the town. The hotel was a nice one, but not the best in town. Upper end, but without a lot of the glitz. The concierge called up, then motioned toward the elevator. Rob opened the door, motioning him in. The old Irishman took three steps, then stared at the bed in amazement. Five Faerie were sprawled out on the duvet, watching television. Between them was a platter of fruit, and one of them was using a bloody sword to carve up a piece of pineapple. "Saints preserve us," he whispered. He walked over, kneeling to look at them. A dark skinned girl looked back levelly. "You weren't lying." "The one thing Rob does not do with Faerie is lie," the sword wielder said. She thrust the sword into the pineapple with an economical movement that bespoke long practice, bringing the fruit up so she could tease a juicy fiber out of it. "Now that isn't true, Lupine." The dark girl chirped rubbing her belly. Paddy, who had seen his share of pregnant women figured she was about seven months along. "I wouldn't have be like this if it wasn't for Rob, and he had to lie with me for that to happen." "No puns, girls," Rob said. He had opened the wet bar, and taken out a miniature bottle of Glenfiddych. "Something for you, Sergeant?" "If they have Bushmills, I'd welcome a taste." "Very high class joint, sergeant. They have Bushmills 1824. I asked for it." "My name is Patrick." "Patrick or Padraigh?" Rob handed over the small bottle along with a glass. He pulled out a second bottle of the single malt, pouring them of his into his cup. "He's drinking again." The other pregnant Fairy commented. There was a small soap dish before her, and she was bathing by laying in it. She looked up at the Irishman, smiling. She blew him a kiss, and he turned. blushing. "Be nice, Rose. Besides how often do I drink?" "Only every time you get a chance." She replied. "Yeah, remember-" "Witherod, be quiet." His voice was firm, but a little amused. They looked at the man with fondness, then at the cop. "I can see you've known each other for a while," O'Malley said. He sipped the whiskey, the best Bushmills had ever made, and expensive as hell. He sat down leaning against the bed. A hand ran through his hair, and he looked up at the Fairy they had called Lupine. "Just wondered if it was as soft as it looked," she said. She ran the fingers through it as if rubbing a massive lion. "It is." She leaned into the man's hair with a contented sigh. Rob took a seat beside him, leaning his head back. The dark skinned pregnant girl stood, walked with a sinuous stride that even with her condition would have gotten her arrested on the South side, and pecked Rob on the cheek. "You need more time to relax, my love." She slid down onto his shoulder, leaning over against his neck "Can't." He sipped the whiskey, sighing. He looked at O'Malley, who watched him with a small grin. "You didn't answer my question, sir." O'Malley considered. "Oh. Padraigh is what's on my birth certificate. But I'm Pat to everyone who knows me. Or Paddy." "Well Paddy, do you believe me now?" "Since you showed your cards before I even bet, I have to fold. But why are you telling me this?" Rob explained what had happened to him the previous May. "Since then I have been a sort of Ambassador to the Faerie of the country from the realms of the West. This is my first circuit. we started in LA, flew to Philadelphia to start. Take my advice, don't try to slip Faerie through a metal detector, It scares the bejesus out of them." "Rob! My love Rose was already pregnant, and I wasn't going to lose my child to an accident with an X-ray machine!" Trillium complained. "My child?" O'Malley asked. Witherod, with corrections, explanations, and a lot of unnecessary unasked helpful advice from the others explained the Fairy mating cycle in long and full detail. O'Malley was blushing furiously when they were done. "Then up to Maine, south to Florida, Across the gulf coast to Texas, then up again until I turned west and came here." He poured a much lighter drink, handing O'Malley another 1824. "Don't worry, I ordered it special for you. Like the scotch for me, and the fruit for them." He told him of the Faerie plight. "...You see, their men didn't survive. They become stupid. Picture a full grown man with the mind of a three year old." His face grew somber. "As you can see, their genes are dominant. For the last four or five centuries all of their kids have been female." "How do they breed?" "As they told you in excruciating detail, they need someone to supply the seed for their children, and they are still close enough to what we would call regular humans that we can interbreed if we're the right size. They found a way to harvest that seed a long time ago, but it's been haphazard. They have been mating only with people who can see them. You see, they have magic of a sort. That is why they have wings and can shrink us to fit as it were. But they can't be seen by the average human being." "There are a few people I can ask over at the University." O'Malley said. "If I can find one that admits to seeing Faerie." "That was why the questionnaire was put online. What were we supposed to do? 'If you can see the Fairy in my hand, say so'? How long would it be before your guys picked me up on a 51-50?" "Pick the right neighborhood, and you could grow old." O'Malley admitted. "When I stopped at each next burrow or realm, I left Treos, and solar collectors to power them. So far only New York went down, and that was because the damn fools decided they liked movies too much." "Movies?" "Yeah, the Playstation Plus. They're making movies in media small enough." "Ferngully!" Lupine sighed. "It was so much fun." She sliced off a piece of a grape, and somberly handed it to O'Malley. "Ladies, let us talk. They are linked along my route now, and as I work back west through the states, I am also contacting others. When we find someone like you, one of us meets them." "Us. You mean more people able to see them?" Rob nodded. "So far there's only about half a dozen that can who are also helping. There should be over 60,000 if the demographics are right." "Your probably looking in the wrong place." "What do you mean?" O'Malley looked at the edge of the bed. Rose was moving to lean on him, and Paddy reached up, holding her like a kitten to his chest. "When are you due?" "Next month, six weeks." She sighed. "With me about a week after that!" Trillium chirped. She looked up, pulling Rob's ear. "You never answered Dandelion's question you big lug. Are you going to give out pin sized cigars to celebrate?" "Not unless someone can contact some Faerie in Cuba or the Dominican Republic the next weeks," Rob replied. "Honduras is good too." "Don't give them any ideas." Rose snuggled against O'Malley, rubbing her nipples against his shirt. "Sergeant, did any woman ever tell you that you smelled divine?" Rose looked up, batting her eyes. "Not since me Gran diapered me they haven't." "They have no taste." She snuggled her face into his neck, breathing deeply. "I wish I wasn't pregnant. I think I would love to wake up with this smell on my tongue." "Let me!" Witherod dived on the man, holding to his hair, plunging her face into his hair and sniffing. "Oh it is so good!" Witherod moved through his hair like a snake through tall grass, ending up laying flat on his head, her hands holding hanks of his hair, sniffing. "I want him. Now!" "Witherod, behave." "Oh." She sulked, her hand brushing his brow. "Unless he has a full day off, we can't very well have him disappear." Rob admonished. "Then I am going to sulk." She said. "And take a bath. Patrick, will you watch me too? Or do you just like fat chicks?" A slab of grape hit her, and she took off, chasing a laughing Lupine on an aerial pursuit. "Such a brazen little tart." O'Malley laughed. "Are they all like that?" "When they're in season, they want it any way they can get it," Rob told him laughing. "Well I am willing to help as I can." "Witherod may hold you to that." He looked back. The Fairy had stripped down and bent at the waist to whip the water with her hand. She turned lazily, and gave him a grin that mede him blush even more. "If she wants a wizened old raisin she can wait until Thursday. I have Friday off." "You had better deliver." "What they didn't tell you is that they make you young enough to enjoy it when they do." Rob warned. "So expect it to be hot and heavy." "Will my poor heart stand it?" O'Malley joked. "Good. Now that your sex life is taken care of, Witherod, I only have to find this Monica Braziani woman." "Braziani?" O'Malley looked at him. The look was not friendly. "Yes." Rob brought out his Treo, bringing up his e-mail. "She contacted the organization about six weeks ago. But we haven't gotten a reply." O'Malley relaxed. "If it's the one I think it is, she might be under house arrest." "Meaning?" "The Braziani family is the head mob family for the city these days." O'Malley looked at his empty cup, accepting another shot. "Her old man was Stephan. He died when Monica was 14, and her grandfather Guido has been her guardian ever since. Guido is what they used to call a Mustache Pete. He's so old country he's got an Italian accent and he was born here. He's my age, came up the hard way. The old man has tried to run her life like a Sicilian Don. No friends he doesn't clear, no dates unless it's with someone he likes, she might as well be a nun." "Then how did she send us an e-mail?" "Probably when she 'ran away from home' as Guido described it. The mob called in favors with the city, and half the force helped look for her. They caught her in Riverside New York, trying to get to New York." He sighed. "The woman is almost 30, and he treats her like a kid." "That explains it." Rob keyed down and read the passage. "'Woman told us she would try to contact NY office. No word after that'." He tapped the screen. "I was supposed to contact a local band here tonight, but I felt meeting you first might help us. I turned. out to be right." O'Malley emptied his cup. "Well I can help you with that. But I had better eat, or from the way she is looking at me, I might end up taking a Blue Flue day." His thumb hooked toward Witherod who had beaten the water in the soap dish into a froth, and was lounging like an actress in her bubble bath sending him smoky looks as she bathed. "Here or down stairs?" "Here is fine. I think we need to plan a way to get Monica away from her hell hounds for a few hours... ***** Monica had experience with prisons. Not by being in them, but from all of the men who worked for her Grandfather. She figured she was in a maximum security outfit. Except when she was in the house, she didn't go anywhere without at least two of Grandfather's 'assistants'. She had seen smaller defensive linemen. It had been this way for almost 15 years now. First he yanked her from public school, and tossed her into a Catholic school. Not only Catholic, but an all girl school. All she had gotten from that was an appreciation of how little nuns knew about the real world, and a lingering worry that she might be a lesbian. The one time she had made out with a local boy some guys had 'convinced' him not to see her again. He wasn't even willing to talk to her after the cast came off. When she had wanted to go to college she had put her foot down. No all girl schools, no Catholic ones. Instead she had gotten tutors. She had chosen anthropology as her major as a poke in the old man's eye. She knew he'd hoped she take business administration or Culinary arts. But if the classes even moved in that area beyond barter systems and cooking a pig in a pit she had walked away until that teacher didn't come any more. Sure she had tough teachers. They wouldn't have dare to let her slack! She had done well enough that four different museums were ready to hire her, and seven Universities that had read what work she'd published had panted at adding her to their staffs. But none were 'good' enough for the son of an Italian Dockworker. Boys had hung around her like bees around a flower when she had matured. The guys that were assigned to watch her after her 16th birthday were either gay, assqxual, or the kind that got off on hurting people more than sex. , She had outstripped all of them mentally before puberty and couldn't have had a decent conversation with any of them that didn't include jail time or how to hit a man just right to break his leg . He had introduced her to a lot of sons of 'friends'. If they weren't mobsters they were businessmen or politicians. The children of the mobsters were as bad as her Grandfather. The businessmen were the type that would screw their secretary and sell their children to get ahead. The Politicians were the kind that would allow her to marry their son only because that might give them a chance in the saddle too. She looked at the face in a mirror. Oval, olive complexion with a sheet of hair black as a raven's wing. She could arrest an entire room of men by walking in, and only the fact that going to dinner meant towing Grandfather and at least six goons stopped her from even considering a night life. She braided the hair into a French Braid halfway down her back, slipped on the sunglasses, and checked her outfit. It was a business suit, including a jacket. The skirt was knee length, and a little tight. Again, a dig at the old man. Her briefcase was beside the door. Ever since she had tried to go to New York that case was packed by one of the staff, and she was not allowed another. Fairy. The website had actually asked if she had seen a Fairy! Part of her, the strict anthropologist had come up with a lot of reasons why someone in a technological society might see Fairy. None of them were good. But right before her father had died, she had seen what she was sure were Fairy in the backyard of their home. Momma had been dead since she was seven, and the old housekeeper had told her that a house with Fairy were blessed. When father died first the housekeeper had gone, then she had been relocated to this prison. She opened the door, looking at Rocco. If it were an earlier time, she wouldn't have been surprised to see him in the coliseum standing over the victim of his sword. Actually she knew that unless told to hurt someone, Rocco was as gentle as a lamb. At least to her. "Well warden. Do I pass?" she asked. Rocco shrugged. He wasn't much of a conversationalist. He led her to the entry hall, where her coat hung. She took it out of his hands, pulling it on. She might have to put up with the equivalent of a Secret Service detail, but that didn't mean she had to like it! The team today was Rocco, Ben and Sally. She could have reduced the number by not leaving the house but if she stood here one more minute, she'd grab the nearest knife and do a Lorena Bobbit on someone! The drive into the city was quiet. She didn't like any of them well enough to want to talk, and if they tried to start a conversation, she ignored them. The Library loomed like a stone monolith from the slush of the street. She climbed out, allowing Rocco to hold the door only because he went out first. She walked toward the door. "Miss Braziani?" An older man came from the side. He stooped before Rocco could decide he might be a danger, reaching in slowly with his left hand to pull out a badge case. Ben, the head of this detail sneered. "You want to talk to her cop, call our lawyers." "Listen asshole. I need to talk to her for five minutes, in private. It has nothing to do with old man Braziani, and it's none of your concern." His voice had an Irish lilt. "Now I can talk to her here, or at the station. What will it be?" "Miss?" Ben looked at her. She knew he wanted to wait, have half a dozen lawyers ready to scream, but she didn't care. At least it was something new in her life. "If you don't mind, officer. Could we talk inside where it's warm?" "Please." He walked ahead, holding the door. She took off her coat, shoved it into Ben's hands. "Come with me, officer." She walked, turning to glare at the men until they left at least seven paces between them, and continued. "I am going up to the restricted archive. We don't have a lot of time." "I'm sergeant O'Malley. A mutual friend asked me to see if you need assistance." She looked at him askance as they trudged up the stairs. "For the life of me sergeant, I don't know how we could have mutual friends beyond my dogs back there." "Inner World," he said. She stumbled and O'Malley caught her. He might be old, but he was still rock solid. "How did you-" "One of their reps go around and contact people who answer their questionnaires just right. Like both of us did." She shook her head. "Sergeant, I thought I might have seen fairy when I was fourteen. Maybe I was hallucinating." "I saw five of them just last night," he said in a level tone. "And I know I wasn't." He met her astonished glance with a wink. "They're real, and they want to help." "How?" she bit out. "What can little people with wings do to rescue me?" She jerked her head toward the trio behind them. "If you had been fifteen years younger, they wouldn't have let us talk like this even if you were a cop." "Well there are nightspots you can go to. They can get you out." "Out." She stopped, looking at him "Rescue me perhaps? How?" "We can leave it up to them." He turned her. "Here' what we do..." ***** Guido looked out of the window. When he'd made his move up in the organization here back in the sixties he had chosen this site for his new home. He built it after he had been made consigliere. It was a house only in name. Some mansions were smaller. "So she's going to try this again." He sighed. He turned back to Sally. "You're sure." "Sir, my sister is deaf. I learned to lip read from watching her when we were both kids. She said, 'Rescue me perhaps? How?' and he replied, 'We can leave it up to them'. We weren't close enough to hear any of the conversation, and that was all they said where I was close enough." Guido turned back away. Once a strong bull of a man, now he ran to fat with greasy hair. "So she thinks she can get away." He turned back. "Where did she want to go?" "A dance club over in the South Side." "Then by all means, let's allow her to do this. Call Hannah. I want three of her girls made up to look presentable." ***** Monica chose her clothes with care. She dressed sedately, because she didn't have anything real provocative to wear. She chose a little black dress with a high collar and sleeves. All of her under were white utilitarian garb more what a nurse would wear. Her pantyhose were taupe, and she was not allowed stockings because they needed garters. The shoes were black with two inch heels. Anything higher would need permission from the warden. Last was her purse, a small clutch. all she had in it was her wallet and ID. Money and credit cards were verboten in Stalag Braziani. She went down. Grandfather and his full team were there. He ushered her to the car, and Monica sat, holding the purse on her lap. If he caught her this time he would build a special cell to keep her in and feed her through a cat door until she got married. The idea that she might lose even the little freedom she had warred with her desire to be free. The club was rocking when they got there. The music went from slow romantic numbers to swing, to modern, to rock, to Jazz as if they hadn't decided what they liked best. She ordered a glass of white wine, something her grandfather allowed on occasion. There were three faces she knew very well. Women that hung around with one of Grandfather's businesses. They were neatly dressed in nice clothes, their make up light instead of what they usually wore, but they screamed whore to her. O'Malley had told her to take it easy. The man and the Faerie that would help her escape were already here, and if she couldn't find a way, they would set another meet. She wasn't sure she could take this pulse pounding tension more than once. If she didn't succeed, she'd go home and eat shards of glass rather than try again. She didn't see them, or O'Malley. Maybe it was one of Grandfather's sadistic tricks. He wanted to know if she'd run if she had the chance. He had done it before. No, don't start double thinking yourself. She admonished. Either walk back into your cage like a horse running back into a burning barn, or take the chance. A few men would have asked her to dance, but the men who glared at them made most people walk away. The music slowed, and she gasped. On one of the lights above the dance floor she thought she saw a flash of wings. She took her courage by the throat. "I'm going to the ladies, Grandfather." "Marko, Ruiz, escort her," he grunted. He looked bored. The two men walked with her, stopping outside the door as she went in. If he follows the usual pattern, there are five more men outside She thought. Getting here is the easy part. She saw the door open, and one of the whores he had brought along sauntered in. Monica moved back to the back, the last stall. She waited until the woman using it was done, and went in. She sat, feeling like an idiot. They can't follow you into the bathroom. O'Malley had said. Sure they could bring someone who can, but they can't get in the stall with you. The ones that will help know what you look like, and they are very patient. She saw something on the wall moving down, and then a Fairy simply appeared there. She wanted to gasp, but bit her had in what would have been an obscene gesture in public. The Fairy signaled for silence, then settled on her shoulder by her ear. She didn't fly, she abseiled down the wall using what had to be a spider web. "Will you trust me and accept that what I say is true?" the Fairy asked in a West Texas drawl. Monica nodded. "I have to bite you to start the process. If I only bite you once it might take an hour or more. But if I bite you seven or eight times, you will be my size in about five minutes." She nodded again. "That thing with the hand is good. It might sting a bit." Monica bit her hand again, then her teeth sank in as the fairy bit. She tried to keep track, but it was the gentle voice in her ear that told her it was done. She noticed that her shoes felt loose, and she reached down, pulling them off. She set them on the toilet tank. The hose and panties followed, and she unzipped her dress. The skirt was wide enough by this time to slide up instead of down. Her feet no longer touched the floor, and she was starting to fall back into the bowl. A strong had caught her. It was only the size of a baby hand, but the Fairy was strong. She helped Monica until she could stand, pushing her up on the pile of clothes. "Now this will sting a bit." "What-" The Fairy stuffed her hand into Monica's mouth, and gasped as Monica bit down as the wings ripped from her back. They unfurled, fanning instinctively to dry. Someone pounded on the door, Monica stiffened, and only the hand over mouth kept her from screaming. "Hey, you all right in there?" The Fairy put her finger to her lips, then pointed at the line on the wall. Monica grabbed it, and with a push from below, climbed. It was easier than it had been in school. It was like she didn't weigh anything! They reached the top of the wall between the stalls. As they did, a head looked under the edge. "Oh Fuck!" she screamed, running to the door. "She's gone!" Ruiz, a small Hispanic with gold teeth and an attitude ran in. When the woman pointed, he kicked in the door. He stopped, looking at the clothes in amazement. The Fairy lowered the edge of the air vent, shoving Monica ahead, then followed. She could see where they had patiently replaced the screws with shorter ones webbed into place, and rigged lines to raise and lower the grating. Two Fairy pulled lifting it back into place, and tied it off. They moved quietly until they were far enough away that the music of the club drowned them out. The vent seemed to go forever, but finally they reached another grate rigged the same way. She understood that the lighting helped. The lights shown down, dazzling the people below. The grate opened, and they dropped onto the lattice that supported the light bars. Following one of the others, and followed as well by her rescuer, they made their way to a line that dropped on a table at the edge of the floor. It was in shadow. The lights didn't flash here. They slid down the line they had run, landing on the back of the seat. The man had a camera bag, and watched the crowd. "Clear for two." The first two Fairy slid into the bag. Monica almost ran after them but the Texan stopped her. "Now." Monica dived down followed by the Fairy. They got into the bag. They waited in mounting impatience, then the man raised his hand. A waitress waved back, heading that way. "Another sir?" "No, I had best call it a night." He pulled out a twenty, handing it to her. "The rest is yours, ma'am." "Why thank you, sir!" She picked up his empty glass as she sashayed back toward the bar. The man stood, picking up the bag, hanging it like a purse. He passed a running Hispanic man, ignoring him. He walked up the steps from the basement, walked over to his car, and got in. "I think I can say welcome to the world, Miss Braziani." ***** "How?" Guido screamed. He slammed a pudgy fist against the side of the limo. "I don't know!" Ruiz complained. "She must have had something to change into, but Sheila was the only one there, and she didn't see anything passed!" "Fine. Tell Sheila to find somewhere else to work!" Guido picked up the intercom phone. "This O'Malley Asshole. Where does he live?" ***** Rob drove steadily. He stopped at an abandoned building, talking with the Fairy band that used it for a home. He put the bag down, and the Faerie surrounded Monica. Their Queen Blueweed hugged her. Rob felt his phone rumble, pulling it out. "Rob." "Trouble." "Pat?" "Braziani's limo is following me. I'm, shit, they're going to try to run me off the road. Get her outta here!" He could hear the phone sliding, then the crunch of metal. "Pat!" The Faerie stood, watching him as he lowered the phone. "Your grandfather just had Sergeant O'Malley taken." "He'll beat the truth out of him, kill him when they are done," Monica said in a leaden voice. "I have to go home." "Well you all can't just sprang back up to normal." The Texan Fairy told her. "You're going to be this size for at least twelve, fifteen hours." "This monster would hurt him without even know if he is part of it?" The Queen, a sultry blonde who looked like Mae West asked in horror. "Such men cannot be allowed to live." "There's not a lot I can do about it," Rob said. "I said nothing about you." She said in a cold voice. "We will do it. All we need to do is get inside." ***** Ruiz held the cop's head up. Blood ran from O'Malley's lips, and he wasn't sure about the ribs but he thought at least four were broken. Ruiz's partner Marko liked to put in the boot a little too much. They'd been broken before he had even reached the car. "Now you gonna tell us where the bitch went or maybe we see how long you can live with this, eh?" Ruiz took a hand and shoved against the broken ribs. O'Malley bit back a scream. ***** The car pulled up to the gate. A surly man stormed out of the guard shack. "What the hell do you want?" "I come with a message from the old man's granddaughter," Rob said. Before the guard could snarl his radio bleeped. He touched the earpiece. "Yes, sir?" He looked at Rob, and walked back to the shack. The steel gates rolled back, and as soon as it was clear, Rob drove through. Behind him a dozen Fairy swarmed the man under. He had been in war before and knew the importance of planning, but the Fairy didn't think that way. They had the same attitude as the Scots at every battlefield they had ever been at, or the American Indians throughout most of their history. Get in close, and kick the bastard until he gives up or you're dead. The trunk and back seat were full of them. Among them was Monica Braziani, wearing a leather outfit that looked like it came from a bondage store lined with thinsulate. It had taken several hours for Rob to find the space age insulating material and all day for the Faerie to make up a dozen outfits. A lot of them were still dressed in heavy fur coats, and none of them had found a way to protect their wings, but they were armed to the teeth. A pair of men were standing on the porch. As he stopped four more came through the door. "Six of them." "Just open the door," Blueweed ordered. He hit the trunk release, climbing out. The men turned, guns appearing as the thrumming of wings warned them. They were a lifetime too late. Fairy are small. All of four inches long, the size of an average humming bird. But these hummingbirds had steel stings of Rob's design six inches long with a full four of them before the crossbar. An ounce of fairy, an ounce of metal... With a needle point. They were high tech lances for low tech warriors, and like knights of old, they just pointed and flew forward at a flying sprint reaching 60 miles an hour. One of the men screamed as a steel shaft the size of a medium knitting needle rammed into his eye grating on the orbital bone. Another choked on the one through his throat from front to back. Two more were falling with thrusts through the heart. One was frantically whirling as a web of steel wings and biting teeth surrounded him. The other ran toward the door. If he had not, Rob would have had to run across. The man flung open the door and a swarm of small flying armed death followed. Rob walked along with a baseball bat, and gave the coup de grace to three of the men outside. The others didn't need it. There was firing and screaming inside. It was like walking into a building behind a SWAT team. Everywhere were bodies. Some were shrinking, but most lay there pinioned by steel. He walked through the lower floor, dealing merciful death to those he found. There was another floor to go. ***** "Hey something's happening!" Marko shouted. He opened the door, and it was as if a cloud of death covered him. Ruiz turned toward the cop, his gun up, then screamed as something shoved through his hand. He dropped the gun, never feeling the thrust that ripped through his eardrum. O'Malley felt something gentle touch his face. Witherod held onto his chest, tears falling. "Oh Pat," she said. "Get out of here. Call the-" He spasmed, feeling something tear in his chest. "Go." He fell unconscious. ***** "I hate the weird ones." Detective Lieutenant Stone growled. He looked at the seven police cars and the ambulances that waited. The CSI men were working, and the ME had sent four men to cover it. The security guard's call had been incoherent, then ended abruptly. His body lay at the shack, something thin had been thrust into his chest three times, piercing the heart. Inside it was even worse. The SWAT team used the Braziani estate as an example of what you didn't want to mess with. Thirty men, guard dogs, machine guns, the whole nine yards. All but the dogs were dead. The dogs had been found drugged unconscious in their runs. Old man Braziani had been punched through both eyes with whatever the killers had used. "Who did this?" he asked rhetorically. ***** Pat stiffened, trying to throw the weight off him. It was Witherod eyes even with him, suddenly the perfect size to cuddle. "I knew it would work." She sighed, kissing him." "What-" He clutched his side. Instead of the folds of loose skin he'd grown used to, it was firm and toned. Like he had been when he was still in the Service. There was no pain. "We shrink you, and rejuvenate you in the doing my love." She told him, kissing him gently. "And you will grow old when you grow back to normal size, but the injury is gone." "How can-" Padraigh O'Malley. You have a willing woman laying on your chest, wearing only what the gods gave her as raiment, and you have questions?" She stopped his comment with a kiss. ***** BLOODY BATTLE AT MOB HOME 30 DEAD BY THE 'KNITTING NEEDLE KILLER' POLICE BAFFLED. Chicago Tribune Daniel Santos, Staff writer. Police rushed to the home of alleged mob kingpin Guido Braziani in answer to a frantic call by the Wachenhut Security agency. The man from that agency hired as gate guard had called screaming, then the phone had gone dead. The minutes late the first police at the scene found the body of the guard, pierced half a dozen times by holed made with long thin metal objects. Those officers called for back up, and proceeded to the house where they found six bodies dead on the front porch and driveway. Inside seventeen other men were dead, including Braziani. All but two had been killed by either small razor sharp knives, or knitting needle sized weapons. The two others died from gunshot wounds, but police believe they are friendly fire casualties from the weapons of the mobsters. Eight men that are known to frequent the building are missing and the police have asked for help in finding them. (Pictures on Pages 2 and 3) Monica Braiziani who disappeared last night at a night club has yet to be reached for questioning... ***** "We commend their souls to the gods beyond." Blueweed intoned, touching the soft wrappings of their dead. The price had been high. Of the almost 100 Faerie that had attacked the estate, fifteen were dead, a dozen wounded and three crippled. Monica Braziani cried for their loss. The Queen had informed her in a calm level voice that it was more than they had lost in a three year period. She held onto Rob's arm. It was disturbing to know in a way that she was only four inches tall, and that the man with her would become a woman briefly, then return to his normal height as would she. The Faerie told her she could mate if she wished, but only if she wished to remain Fairy, for they could not waste the precious seed this quiet man offered. Across the grave from her stood the Texan Fairy Witherod, her pairs of wings fluttering, and beside her a female fairy with bright yellow and green hair she was told had been Pat O'Malley. But with that disturbed feeling was a joy she had never felt before. Around her, here in the city of her birth, was a tribe of people never studied and never even imagined. A tribe desperate for help from the outside, yet as she had seen unwilling to give up to give up their freedom by subservience and willing to fight for that freedom. What a doctoral thesis this would be! ***** "O'Malley!" He turned, looking at the Lieutenant storming toward him from the garage. "Where the hell were you?" "I called in sick, sir." "Sick my ass! The wife went by and said you weren't home. And Dispatch said the caller was a woman!" "I wasn't at home sir," O'Malley blushed. "Because a sweet little lady of my acquaintance nursed me through the night. I was in her bed last night, sir. She called in for me." The Lieutenant stopped, unsure what to do at this point. "Well. Well..." He sputtered. "Next time, let us know sooner." He walked away, flushing more fiercely than the Irishman. Goodbye They had just passed through St Paul Minnesota when the Treo bleeped. Lupine sat cross-legged before it, reading the message. "One for Blue belle from her mom, and four for you. One from Charlottesville, another from the Arkansas Post realm, another from LA. The last from Chicago." "Read mine for me, please." She obediently brought up the first one. "Charlottesville reports that they found a local construction engineer who can see us, and are getting together about a thousand dollars for as new home. They say he'll travel anywhere between Richmond and Miami for the same price." "Forward it to Dandelion and file it." "Arkansas Post reports that they have found about 200 grams of diamonds so far. They want to know if there is someone who can see us to pick them up for sale." "Not yet. Send it to both Maddie in New York, and Frank in LA." She tapped the keys, forwarding the messages. "Chicago reports that thanks to the bad weather, and the suggestions of Sergeant O'Malley, they have recouped their losses in the last week." "How the hell did they do that?" "O'Malley has friends in the city offices. Those poor who don't have money to pay for heat are in a file he stole. The Faerie of the two Chicago realms have been checking with them and any who say they can see us are offered homes. Fifty so far." "Slug that. I have to warn them. You start haveing mass disappearances and god alone knows who might stick their noses in." "Witherod already covered that. 'Tell him my loving Irishman Pat couldn't let them die. A statistical blip no more'." "I hope he's right. Slug it anyway." "Rob, Dandelion wants you to check out a website ASAP, whatever that means." She looked up. "Why call them that? It makes me think of spiders." She shivered. She had seen her first tarantula and scorpion just a few weeks earlier in the Big Bend National Park, and was still nervous about them. The fact that the specimens had been served up for dinner by the realm in the Southern end of the park hadn't helped much. "ASAP means as soon as possible," he mused. "As for webs, that is where they got the name. All of our contacts are down lines of a spider web of information." He checked the traffic behind him. "We'll have to pull over for gas anyway. You girls want something special?" "Hot chocolate?" Rose asked. "And some dill pickle?" "With strawberry jam and marshmallows. That would be good." Trillium sighed. "And sweet pickle." Rob shook his head. He'd never dealt with a pregnant woman before, and wasn't sure how he was handling it. Two of them only made it worse. Bad enough one of them would drape herself over him when he was her size, but he wasn't sure from day to day which it would be. Trillium had started it in Houston, but Rose seemed to enjoy it too. They would immediately notify the local Faerie of the joke, and when he was reduced to their size, it would begin. Which ever one did it this time would snuggle up, taking his hand and putting it on their belly, and look at him soulfully asking, 'Will you still love me when I'm fat?' He'd get all flustered, and even though he knew it was stupid he'd deny paternity of at least one child. The women of the Realms they had passed through got a real kick out of it. They'd hold a court to blame him for both, demanding satisfaction, and that satisfaction was almost always that he father another child by yet another Fairy, this one of that realm. He'd lost count of how many he had been with so far. Not that he was going to tell them! He'd get enough sobbing letters about how that 'special night meant nothing to him' to flood his e-mail box! He picked himself up a coffee, got the , and opened the pickle jars. He knew not to get relish instead. Trillium had waxed lyrical one night about how it had made her want to pee every five minutes, which also cracked everyone but him up. They had gotten some acorn caps, and cleaned them out, and while he sipped his coffee, the two pregnant girls drank their chocolate and pickle chunks, while Lupine shared a bit of his coffee. Blue Belle liked all of the frozen drinks from slurpees to malts but it was hard sometimes to convince an owner to supply just a spoonful of the frozen concoction. More than enough for the diminutive sprite. The one frozen yogurt place he had seen in Baytown had been the biggest help for that. Not only giving away spoon sized samples, but even giving him a few containers small enough that they fed all four. But as cold as it was she had admitted that chocolate sounded divine. He cupped the Styrofoam in his hands, sipping before he slipped off his glove, and pulled out the stylus. Rob: Check out this web site. A man in New Mexico is scheduled to be executed in two weeks. Their nickname for him is the Fairy Killer. Holly is starting to look like a balloon, but I love her anyway. I had to explain why I joked about the Hindenberg when she was bathing and she wasn't sure if she could cry, laugh or beat me senseless. Are you going to supply little pin sized cigars? :P He scanned the link, and looked at the face of a quiet young man. FAIRY KILLER LAST APPEAL DENIED Ronald Wheatley Santa Fe NM. Convicted murderer Jason Morris has been denied an appeal by the Supreme Court, guaranteeing his execution in two weeks time. The so-called 'Fairy Killer' reportedly bludgeoned Phillip Hanson, a long haul trucker, to death. The manager of the Quickie Stop Truck stop outside of Taos placed him in custody five years ago. When asked at that time, we waived his right to silence, and told the State Police that he had seen a Fairy near the man's truck seconds before the attack and had killed the man attempting to defending the Fairy. No body of any kind was found at the scene, though there was some blood suggesting that something had died there. Morris, an 18-year-old drifter had been working at the truck stop for meals and small amounts of cash, staying in the nearby woods. He was sweeping the tarmac near the main pump island when Hanson arrived. Hanson was reported to have struck something, believed to be an insect, then stepped on it by witnesses, none of whom were close enough to see what it might have been. Morris approached him, had a loud argument, and then used the push broom he had been using to bludgeon the man. He then picked something up, and fled into the woods. However he returned within moments and made no attempt to escape. "All of the Appeals were pro forma." His lawyer, public defender Jeremy Linster told this reporter. "He has stuck to the ridiculous story that he was aiding a Fairy, and every attempt by myself to convince the court the he is insane had run right into the MacNaughten rule." The MacNaughten rule is the accepted rule for determining the sanity of a defendant on trial. Attempts to flee deny killing someone, knowledge of the illegality of the crime or being evasive are proofs that the person is sane. The claim that he had gone to the rescue of a mythical being would fall within the guidelines, but his admission of guilt precludes using them. He leaned back. Then brought up the map. "Lupine, find me a local. We are going to cut this trip short." He plotted the course, mentally figuring how far they had to go. "We have a stop in Taos to make." ***** The car pulled in, and Rob climbed out. He had made sure to be as far from the truck stop as he could, near the band of trees. Lupine raced off as he walked inside. It had been a grueling fourteen hour drive, and even he was a little antsy. He bought a salad and a small cup of chocolate, adding a large coffee, and went back to the car. They ate silently, Blue Belle slicing the pieces of carrot and celery smaller, and slicing the cherry tomato. When Lupine came back, she was alone. "Rob, they won't come here. You'll have to go to them." She pointed toward the belt of trees. He had only picked at the salad, so he brought the container along with what was left of the chocolate. The girls followed, the two pregnant Faerie riding his shoulders. The trees were spruce, and he felt comfortable. He'd been here before, but never driving his own car. He found a place as far from the noise of the stop as he could, and sat down. The Faerie came out hesitantly, as if terrified of him. He had found that having contact via one of the girls mitigated it, but here it didn't seem to matter. "Hello, ladies. May I address the queen?" They stood watching him silently. He noticed a lot of weapons, more than any but the Central Park and Joliet tribes had carried. They wouldn't be able to kill him easily with those, but with the capability to shrink him, all they had to do was harry him until he was small enough. The Queen was a svelte black woman with blue and violet striped hair. "I am Lily. We have heard rumors that some humans were aiding us again. We thought however that the way they treated the other one would deny that." It sounded to Rob like Cajun French. "That was five years ago?" "Yes. A young man who walked through the woods. Talked with us, gave three of our clan children. He came here at our behest because while he cannot see us, the owner is a good man." "Tell me what happened, please." Rob lit a smoke. They flinched at the flare of fire. He set it down. "Here. So you can have a fire tonight if you wish." "Wheat Grass was flying to see him. She had grown to like a candy he brought us. Altoids." She made it two words. "She was going to ask him to buy some tonight when he was done. "She was sitting on that box thing there on the end." She pointed at the fueling island. "A large human vehicle came in. One of the huge one with many wheels. We heard shouting, then the boy ran out here, where others were waiting for Wheat Grass to return. He was carrying her body." The woman looked stiff and cold, with an unbearable pain at it's center. "She was my daughter of flesh. Born of my loins. And they killed her." "Ma'am, you can't blame all humans for what one did." "We asked the boy to come with us. We would have reduced him, hidden him until they stopped looking. Converted him if he was willing. But he said he had done wrong, and had to be punished. They took him away. We didn't even get to witness his death as our laws demand." "That's because human laws are different. They tried him for murder, and sentenced him to death." "Where is the body buried?" She asked sharply. "We owe him honor for his actions. It is poor enough that we didn't not even see him die-" "He isn't dead," Rob broke in. "What? He lives? But how can that be?" "We got laws that are confused sometimes. He admitted killing that man. But he told them why he did it. No one believed him, and they sentenced him to die. But we don't just take people out and execute them like Faerie do. He had appeals, chances to convince a court of his innocence." He shook his head. "But every time he spoke of Faerie they decided he was still lying to them." "Yet he did not." "I know that. But unless we can find 12 people who can see you and a judge and two lawyers that can, he dies in two weeks." "What sort of madmen are your kind?" She asked. But it was not angry, merely unkind. "Same as you, just we don't see as well obviously. What do you want us to do?" "Do? Has anyone asked for your help, human?" "That is wrong!" Blue Belle flew down facing the queen, and a Fairy with lemon yellow hair in a skin tight red jumpsuit tapping the toe of her boot impatiently would have been amusing if she had not been furious. "This human as you call him has traveled from the far West of this land to the East to grant justice to one who travels with us. He stood and watched it administered, even though it was nothing like he had ever seen. "He brings gifts that link us all from coast to coast so that Faerie can call for help in need. At the moment there are few humans that can help us, but my mother is one and the man who is building a Faerie burrow with doors to keep the animals out, and air pumps to keep poison out of the air is one! He supplied the cloth that keeps my body warm so that we will not freeze in the winter! "They did this out of the goodness of their hearts, and you disparage the word human to me?" They looked away embarrassed, except for the Queen. Lily walked over to stand before the girl. "A pixie with barely dry wings tells me what to do?" "I was born fairy and I stand with her!" Rose tapped Rob's neck, and he lowered her to stand beside Belle. "This very human met our kind and instead of terror anger or greed, he showed compassion! He has taken his own time, and his own knowledge to aid us, as have others whom we have met upon this quest. He has set a quest for himself worthy of any knight in legend, to bring all Faerie everywhere together in their time of need. He is a knight without peer in his heart, and father of over one hundred new Faerie in the bargain." Lupine flew down, arraying herself beside the others. "Where we are, we know well that humans can be evil. Sometimes without even knowing it. Men such as John Ericsson who gave my clan our dwelling. Like the man in the East who is willing to travel to build such shelters for any within range of his company. "The daughter of one who has joined us in East Texas writes books as her mother did to speak to those who can see us, or wish they could. Among humans there are a number to whom we are just stories. But to others we are a beacon of life and light, and he brings both races together." Trillium was helped down. Ungainly, but willing. She stood beside the others. "I was human until just a few months ago. I knew this man as a human, and he would have given his life for me then. When we met the Fairy in California, it was he that calmed my fears, allowed me to choose." She rubbed her belly. "When I asked him to become the father of my child he did it with all the love you would expect from someone who cares about you as a person. To accuse him and those like him of being evil is a monstrous act." She looked up, reaching out, and he put out her hand. She set her hand on his thumb, and looked back at the queen. "He loves me, and he cares about us. Not because he knew us, I am the only one who knew him before. He has not changed in his heart. "We offer to help if we can. Why are you so unwilling to take it?" "Do you even know where Santa Fe is?" Belle growled back. "I do. He does, and that is where he will die if we don't hurry. Not ten or fifty but hundreds of miles away. Days of travel for us, but hours for him! I didn't hear him asking you for anything in return. I heard a human say 'what do you want us to do'. It sounded to me like an offer of help. An offer you cast back into his face as if he were the one to kill this boy!" "What can you do?" Lilly demanded. "If the cells are like I knew as a child in the East, we cannot reach him." Rob considered. "I don't know that I can help. But I am willing to try." He sighed. "Ladies, this was dumped in my lap a yesterday because he said he saw Faerie. I could have ignored it, but I went 800 miles out of my way to find out what happened, and to offer help. Am I to stand by and allow him to die?" The Queen looked up at him, and her face softened. "So you are of that old kind we remember in story and song. I apologize for my harsh words. Will you take our hospitality this night?" "Well first, I need to pick something up. A gift for the clan, and some information. But I will be back at dark." He stood. "Girls, stay here." ***** It was an hour after dark when he returned. A local fairy guided him to the prairie dog burrow they had converted. Once he had been reduced, they carried in the equipment he had selected. Among them was something he hadn't used before. "This is what's called a cell phone," he told them. "Some of you know about telegraphs and phones. This one is made to be carried in your pocket." He looked at the strip of paper he had rolled up. "A rag called the People's Eye carried the main stories. Maybe I can get through to them." He dialed the phone by stepping on the keys. "People's Eye. The Truth must be spoken!" "Hello, I would like to speak with David Llewellyn." "Mister Llewellyn is no longer with the paper." "Is there a way to contact him?" "I think so." There was a bustle on the other end. She read off a number that one of his Faerie wrote down. "He left us about five years ago." "Right after the Fairy Killer case?" "Not long after. He seems to believe the boy they tried was innocent because he really did see Faerie." "What do you mean?" "He wanted permission to get photos of the Fairy, but everything came out badly blurred. He claimed he had really seen them, and the Editor wouldn't listen." "Why not?" "Mister, we may print the off the wall crap, but it doesn't mean we actually believe it. Imagine real Fairy!" "I can imagine it actually. Thank you." He jumped on the disconnect button. "Ladies, that is what a lot of people are going to say when you mention Faerie. Unless we can find a way to make more people see you, it will continue." He dialed the new number. "Hello?" "David Llewellyn?" "Speaking." "I need to talk urgently with you about the Fairy Killer case." "Oh really. After all the cranks I have been called, why should I listen to you?" Rob considered. "You don't have to, but I need your help too. I called the paper you worked for. They told me you tried to get pictures, but failed." "Couldn't get close enough. Everything came out blurry." "Faerie are real and I can prove it." "And how will you do that?" "When you did those pictures, did you try to talk with the Fairy?" There was a pause. "I went to where he said he'd seen them. I saw some at a distance, but they all ran away." "Lily?" Rob asked. "Lily? Who is Lily?" She came forward. "Human, do you remember where you went to get these 'photos'?" "Yes Ma'am." "My people were given instruction by me to flee from all humans." There was an even longer pause. "So you claim to actually be a Fairy?" "Not only claim it. I am one." The phone was hung up. Lily looked at him, and he shrugged. "Okay, we do it the hard way." ***** David Llewellyn opened the door, looking at the man with the camera case standing on step outside his enclosed porch. He was in his seventies. Stoop shouldered from years of leaning over a typewriter or keyboard. His eyes were clear and as gray as his hair. He opened the screen door. "May I help you?" "Name's Rob. We spoke the other day on the phone." "Oh, yes. He started to close the door, but like a professional salesman, Rob had inserted his boot in the way. "Five minutes. I don't convince you, I'm out of your hair forever. Promise." "Why should I give you five seconds?" Llewellyn glared at him. "I can't get a job thanks to my age and that little bastard at the paper. All because I saw something and no one will believe me!" Rob looked at him, then first moved his foot so the man could close the screen. He looked around, then opened the camera bag. Five Faerie looked up at the man. One flew up, landing on Rob's shoulder. "Will you believe me now that I am a Fairy?" Lily asked. "Holy..." Llewellyn stared at her, and then his hands plucked at the screen. "Come in, come in!" ***** "Rob was right," Llewellyn said much later. He had talked with Lily and the girls. "We don't have time to try another appeal, and I don't think the governor believes in people, let alone Faerie." He sighed, looking at Rob, then at the Queen. "All we can do is try to get him out, but that is it's own problem." "Why?" she asked. "Rob introduced us to a Playstation Plus, and one of the things he showed us was something called 'Twelve Angry Men." Llewellyn looked at the man with respect. "Pretty good choice." "I have a good memory." "We understand that finding twelve people who can see us would be a problem. But we can take him away from there if we have time." "You can?" Lily explained the reproductive cycle, and the affect a female orgasm would have on the converted. "What I wouldn't do to have a scientist explain that!" He chortled. "So you could change him into a Fairy, and he'd be gone where they'd never catch him." Then the amusement died. "But the problem is with him, not you." "Explain please," Lily asked. "Morris is what humans call retarded. I think he comes out as a high moron. But he was raised in a strongly Christian home with strong moral beliefs, and he can't get past that. He knew it was wrong for Hanson to kill your daughter, but he knows it was wrong to kill him in return. The church he was raised in uses the bible as the measure of most of their lives, and the bible says 'a life for a life'. It was wrong for Hanson, it was doubly wrong for him. "He has refused any attempt to change his plea to insanity, even begged the judge not to allow it. I covered the trial freelance. I was there. He feels he has done wrong and deserves to die." "But it is wrong!" Rose said. "He did avenge one of ours!" "But we can't prove it. Besides, the bible says 'vengeance is mine saith the lord." Rob told her gently. "When it was offered, he refused to join you. We can offer again if we could talk to him, but that opens another can of worms. He'd be listed as escaped." "But we can't just let him die!" Lily begged. "If it's his choice we don't have one," Rob said. "It is your own law that says it." She sighed. Then she looked up at the new human. "Would we be allowed to see him at least?" "I think I can arrange that. But it will be hard," Llewellyn said. ***** It was the night before Morris was to die. He sat in his cell, calm. At peace with the world. Mr. Johansson, the guard in Death row walked down, keys jingling as he opened the door. "You have a visitor, Jase." The man looked up. He had aged badly in five years. The only advantage of Death row was that he wasn't in the population as they called the bulk of the prisoners. He ate in the separate section for the death row inmates, exercised in the separate yard, usually alone. The Guards had been mean at the start but his pleasant nature and gentle manner had made him almost a pet to them. A pet they would put to sleep t