A Little Night Muse(45)

                “Damn you, woman,” he muttered. But she would just tell him she                     wasn’t a woman.

                Wolly wagged his stub tail in commiseration.

                When Josh heard her moving in the bedroom, he took one of the                     spears. “C’mon, boy. Let’s go see what we got last night.”

                They headed out into the yard under a gray sky, threatening                     more snow, and found the spot where the imp had burned. Only a sodden gray ash                     pile remained, but Josh knew it was the spot because Wolly put his nose down,                     sneezed, and then pissed right on it.

                If he had been the sort of man to disbelieve his own eyes, he                     might have been inclined to forget the night. But that would require forgetting                     Adelyn, which wasn’t going to happen.

                With the tip of the spear, he prodded the remnants of the imp                     corpse.

                To his surprise, a curl of smoke drifted up from the touch of                     the iron. Wolly sneezed again.

                The spear ticked against a hard object. Josh poked a little                     deeper and, nestled in the ashes, something glinted.

                He used the spear to flick it out. Wolly jumped back, then                     approached cautiously to sniff the find.

                Josh bent down to look too. A shining stone the size of his                     thumbnail lay in the dirt. Hesitantly, he reached for it. He smoothed the muck                     away with his fingertip.

                An emerald. To the bare eye, flawless in cut and clarity. He                     had never handled a gemstone like it, but he’d bet every cow in his pasture it                     was no imitation crystal. When he held the jewel to the wan winter light, it                     gleamed, a perfect match to Adelyn’s eyes.

                “Keep it,” Adelyn said from behind him. “As a reward.”

                He glanced over his shoulder. When he had first seen her in her                     fluttering veils and gold slippers, really he should have guessed she was a                     fairy princess. Now she stood just steps away, his worn heather flannel knotted                     at her midriff and his winter-gray sweatpants rolled over his extra boots.                     Though she was draped in his castoffs and his hands had learned the curves of                     her body, she seemed more untouchable—and more desirable—than ever. “You should                     take a spear with you when you leave the house. The wooden handle won’t burn                     your hands.”