Page 115 of By the Fae

She nodded. “What’s the deal with that?”

I breathed in a huge sigh, scratched the back of my neck. “Golden is my family name. But yeah, my folks named their kids — all forty-four of us — after the place in which we were conceived. Since I already have a brother called Picnic, Blankets was the next best thing, I suppose.”

She snort-laughed and slapped a palm over her mouth. “Oh. Gods. Wait,no, Hay Bale?”

“’Fraid so. We got off lightly. You should meet my sisters, Abandoned Manor and Haunted Attic. They’re twins.”

After she finally reined in her mirth, she wound her fingers under my shirt again, digging down past my waistband. “So, I guess we’ll be naming our first-born Women’s Bathroom at Remy Municipal Conference Centre?”

I knotted my fingers into her hair and kissed her fiercely. “What about,” I said, somewhat breathless, “Back of Mal’s Car?”

“He’ll kill us!” she said, but she was already seizing my hand and marching toward the exit.

Chapter 38.

Holly

Two months later

Mal was cooking. Well, perhaps cooking might have been overstretching the definition a tad. Mal was placing luxury AlaeMart frozen meals onto baking trays and sliding them into the oven. Fish pie for us, vegan beetroot wellingtons for Taurin, and a case of B positive for Dima.

“Put me down for five minutes,” Mal said, chucking some veg into the microwave.

“No way,” said Joey and Taurin at the same time. “I reckon fifteen,” he said, as she added, “Half an hour, easily.”

I’d finally tied the amethyst bracelet to my wrist. Goldie had been right. It was on there for forever. Not that I’d made any serious effort to remove it, but I’d given the cord a few tugs. Despite it feeling soft as kitten fur, the thing was actually tougher than an old ethernet cable.

His flatmates— now my flatmates, plus Abby and Bailey, were taking bets on how long it would take Goldie — my super-hot fae boyfriend, Goldie — to notice.

I’d wanted to put it on the first night at the conference centre. As soon as I’d found out what it did, but Goldie had told me to wait. To think it over. It was an effing big decision, he’d said. He was right, of course. Though, I’d already decided I would do whatever it took to spend just one extra minute with him.

Even if we didn’t have the bracelet, or the magic share, our eventual loss would have been worth it, would have been bearable because he would be beside me.

I couldn’t imagine life without him now. Couldn’t go back to a time before him.

I mean, I could. Go back to life on the bottom bunk. To my tapir documentaries and my Faecyclopaedia and my Peanut Whizzos. But he’d ruined me. For everything and everyone else. To know Goldie — the way I knew Goldie — was to want only him.

Seth was nothing. Looking back, it should have been obvious he was always nothing. A fleeting crush, that was all. I had read that Faecyclopaedia thousands of times. Memorised every line. I should have recognised his aura and what it meant, but I’d never met a shadow fae before. I knew now. For future reference. Though I doubted if I ever saw another shadow fae, I’d see anyone besides my grumpy Oread.

After Seth’s outburst at the conference centre, August placed him on sabbatical to“Adjust his professional outlook.”I think mainly she was upset that Seth had come to her and told her about Goldie and me, instead of keeping his darned fae mouth shut. It left her no choice but to fire Goldie.

On Monday following the expo, August was waiting for me in my brand new — empty — twelfth floor office.

“I’ve been thinking all weekend,” she’d said before I’d even had the chance to gaze out the window and take in my new view. “I’d hate to lose my most talented fae programmer— What I mean is on a company level, it would be a shame if we couldn’t find some way to keep Goldie on in some capacity.”

“Say more things like this,” I’d responded. It had only been two days since Goldie had been fired, and he and I hadn’t yet had a chance to discuss it. Despite spending every available second in each other’s arms.

“Well, all I’m saying is, it’s now time to start thinking about building your own team.” August gave me a pointed look. “I’ve left the blank contracts on your new desk, and a few guides on hiring staff. And … rehiring staff.”

“Oh,” I’d said, comprehension dawning. “Will the Golden Rule still apply?”

She’d shrugged a shoulder. “You get to decide that one. You’ll be his new boss.”

And in the end Greyson got tenure. Right after he went backstage and puked his guts up. Humans loved puzzle games it seemed.

“I say one minute,” Dima said, pulling me from the memory and cracking open a can of B positive. He dropped a straw into the hole.

“No, uh-uh. You can’t tell him. That’s cheating,” said Joey.

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