Page 34 of The Minotaur's Valentine

Chapter Thirty: Libby

Ricky drugged me—he must have. That’s why there’s a seven-foot-tall minotaur in my living room. With flowers. And two kittens. Wearing a Metallica hoodie.

“I can call someone. Doc Peterson?”

I’m staring. Bull-dude is talking. Bull-dude’s name is Milo. Milo saved me from Ricky.

“Ricky is a jerk,” I blurt.

Okay, so the sentences aren’t flowing smoothly, to put it mildly.

But Milo doesn’t seem to mind. He gets down on his knees in front of me. Even though I feel like I’m just waking up and the world is cloudy, I can tell he is moving carefully around me. I think it’s because he feels so big next to my short-ass self.

“I want you to know that not all supernatural beings are like that. One of my friends is part succubus, and she’s monogamous and only feeds off her partner in small amounts when they—you know. They just both have high sex drives because he’s a vampire.”

My eyes threaten to shoot out of my head like wild marbles in a pinball machine. “What?”

Milo backs up. “We’re nice. Most of us in Pine Ridge would never, ever hurt a soul. I would never. I meant it when I said minotaurs protect. That whole thing about the labyrinth has been wildly misrepresented.”

“What?”

Milo stares.

I stare.

My vocabulary is subpar, right along with my brain function. “Minotaur? Vampire?” I finally gasp.

“Should I go?”

“No! I—I’m drugged aren’t I?”

“Not exactly. More like impacted by Ricky’s powers. Incubi use sexual energy and feelings of lust and passion to consume the life force and energy of humans.”

“Ricky said something about Incubus. I thought he meant the band!” I put my head in my hands.

“Ah. Well, it sounds like there were a few miscommunications,” Milo says tactfully, but his voice is tight. I remember the way he threatened to make Ricky a stain on my carpet, and that makes me feel warm and tingly.

Shit, I’m still very tingly in a few sensitive spots. I shift on the couch, wet thong rubbing my throbbing clit. “My body liked it. My brain didn’t. At first, I thought we were just really hitting it off, you know?” I look at Milo and blink. Yep. Still has a wide bovine head that’s also somehow humanoid. The eyes are definitely human, soulful, big, and brown. His smile is gentle and sympathetic.

“I know what that’s like when you really like the other person.”

Another memory comes out of the haze— Did Ricky think Milo had a crush on me? How would he? We’ve never even met!

But then again, Milo’s voice on the phone had made me think warm, yummy thoughts. I’d had a vision of a big, muscular metalhead with a soft inside—and that seems to be pretty accurate.

With another one of those verbal misfires, I demand, “But why are you here? I called you back and said we had to reschedule.”

Milo’s jaw dropped. I noticed that he had a mouth that was a cross between human lips and more rounded mouth like the muzzle of a cow or horse. “You did?”

“You didn’t get my voicemail? But you—”

“I got it, but only the first part it seems. I had the phone on the counter and Freddy or Felix walked across the screen. Oh my gosh. Libby, I’m so sorry I—”

“I’m not! I don’t completely understand what happened tonight, but I know I wasn’t okay—until you got here.”

The big minotaur kneeling next to me smiles this sweet, bashful smile, and murmurs, “I’ve been looking out for you since you started coming to the Night Market to rescue the feral kittens. I knew about you from all the people you help at the vet’s office. I saw that we liked the same bands. Doc Peterson was saying how awesome you were. It was a pleasure for me to actually be able to help when you needed it. Not that you need it!” Milo backpedals. “Women can take care of themselves. But around here it’s a little trickier sometimes. Uh. I’m putting my hoof in it, aren’t I?”

“My God. You have hooves. And horns.” I have no filter. I stare shamelessly at his feet, then his head. At least I don’t moo at him.

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