Page 31 of By the Fae

“Wait. Oh my Gods! You can probably see my apartment! Hey, have you got a little steppy thing? I think I can see my apartment!” I called out, spinning on the spot, and abruptly stopping, almost toppling forward.

On the enormous, squishy, super-comfy-looking sofas sat a gorgeous, curvy, human, woman. Her red hair tumbled down her back in mermaid-like waves, her bare feet were tucked up onto the couch, and beside her, a fluffy ginger cat with a smushed-in face was curled.

She smiled at me, waved and then yelled, “Horns, she’s here! Bring out another beer.”

Standing next to one of the sound stacks, Goldie rolled his eyes into a slow blink.

“I’m Joey. I’m Goldie’s favourite flatmate,” she said to me. “You must be Holly.” She turned her smile to the fae, communicating something without words. No doubt about me, but it didn’t seem unkind. They had probably been talking about me before I arrived.

I felt my cheeks getting warmer. “Hi, yes, I am,” I squeaked.

So, this was the type of company he kept outside of work.

Don’t be intimidated, Hols, I told myself.She’s just an ordinary, beautiful, buxom goddess. No need to feel intimidated by his flatmates. Oh Gods—

That thought was firmly obliterated when another of his highly intimidating flatmates — I presumed another flatmate — entered the living room. A six-pack of beers held in one massive, hairy hand. Maybe seven feet tall, horned, muscles from here to kingdom-come, septum ring. Minotaur. Goldie was flatmates with a mother-fudging minotaur. Was the room spinning?

“Hey,” the minotaur said, growled actually. “I’m Taurin. Beer?” He held a can out for me.

It took me a few moments to compose myself. I swallowed, stepped forward, and took the can, fighting the urge to retreat immediately like a kitten snatching a treat from the giant paws of a . . . well, a minotaur. “Thanks.” I stood at approximately nipple height to him.

“They’re mated. Uh, married,” Goldie said, motioning between Joey and Taurin as though that explained something, and accepted a beer for himself.

Joey grinned, ear to ear, her gaze flitting between me and the two men. I couldn’t decipher what the grin meant. “You know, Holly, Goldie’s wearing a shirt. I think that means he likes you.” She raised an eyebrow at Goldie in, what I assumed, was a challenge.

“I won’t be wearing it for long,” he replied.

My response came out as a choked laugh.

With that, Taurin bent down, practically onto his knees, and whispered something into Joey’s ear. Joey laughed.

“I heard that,” said Goldie. I heard nothing. Darn these mythics and their incredibly heightened senses. “Right, now you’ve both got a decent look at her, you can fuck off up to your room and leave us in peace.”

Though I might have thought that was a rude thing to say to his flatmates, Joey and Taurin didn’t seem the slightest bit bothered.

“Fine, fine,” said Joey, uncurling her legs and using her husband’s arm to pull herself to her feet. The cat lifted its head at the disturbance and then promptly nestled it back on its paws. She turned to me. “I’m sure we’ll get to see a lot more of one another this weekend. Our room is next door to Goldie’s, so if being in a flat with four mythics ever feels too much, just give me a knock.”

“Okay,” I said, because I really didn’t know what else to say. Suddenly I felt very small — Joey had to be about five-ten — and very awkward. It was clear that his flatmates knew exactly why I was there. But I guessed that was nothing new where Goldie was concerned. When the pair had left, I looked at the still scowling fae. “You have four flatmates, and three of them are mythics?”

His brow furrows didn’t waver, but a smile appeared. “Taurin, he’s a minotaur. Congrats on meeting your first ever minotaur, by the way. My other flatmates are Mal, an incubus, and Dima, a vampire.”

I stumbled over my feet, dropping the can of beer to the floor. Luckily, I hadn’t pulled the tab off it yet. I couldn’t decide out of the minotaur, the incubus, or the vampire, which was the scariest.

Vampire. Definitely vampire.

“Mal’s out. At work. And Dima’s probably asleep,” Goldie added, as though sensing I was looking around trying to spot them.

“Should I, uh, be worried?”

“Sugar Paste lives here. She’s very human,” he said matter-of-factly. “Plus, it’s against the law to harm a human. You lot have more rights than any other species put together.” He bent down, picked up my can of beer and pointed to the place where the red-haired human woman was sitting. “You gonna help me with this game, then?”

I took the seat next to the enormous ball of ginger fur. It lifted its head, mewed at me, and flumped onto its side.

“What’s the cat’s name?” I asked.

“Not Ludo,” was Goldie’s mightily confusing answer. He sat down on the opposite end of the couch and turned his whole body towards me. Gosh, he was so big. How had I never realised how big he was before?

“So, what is it? If it’s not Ludo. It could be anything. I mean, it literally leaves every single other name in existence.”

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