Page 58 of By the Fae

“It’s sweet. I love the symbolism.”

Symbolism?

“Does it have a theme yet? A purpose?”

“Uh . . .”

“That’s okay, you’ll come up with something.” August got to her feet. “It’s a great start, Goldie. It has potential.” She paused before opening the door. “You need to change Holly’s stats, though. They’re terrible. Think about why a human and a fae might need to work together and adapt them accordingly.”

The next few days passed in a whirlwind. Holly was almost continuously in training, and I sat at my drawing board trying to think up stats for a human character, that were A, not shit, and B, nothing to do with love. I had nothing. I needed to ask Holly for advice, but every time I spotted her outside of training, she was being hounded by one of the other designers. So long as it wasn’t Seth, I decided I would let them try to charm her. Maybe she’d turn her affections from the shadow fae onto one of them. I’d feel a lot less of a prick if, at the end of our deal, I’m handing her over to Greyson instead.

And when she wasn’t being circled by a hungry pack of fae designers, she brushed off my question with the same repetitive answers.

“Love, Goldie. That’s what humans are good at.”

“Try again.”

“Empathy.”

“No. What about resourcefulness?”

“Too many negative connotations.”

“Weaponry skills?”

“Why does there need to be weapons in a game about love?”

“Fuck you, Holly Briar.”

“What about kinship? Brotherhood? Community?”

“There has to be something.”

“Sensibility? Emotional awareness? Zeal?”

By Thursday I had decided I would get the answer from her, even if I had to rip it from those perky lips of hers. On my way into the office, I stopped at my favourite sex shop, Nymph-O-Mania.

“Hey, Goldie,” said the cashier, “Not seen you in a while. Everything okay?”

“Fine, yeah.” I placed the small item on the countertop and the cashier rang it through.

“Hey, do you want—” they began, but I was already making my way out of the shop, unwrapping my purchase. I pushed part of it into one jeans pocket and its remote controller into the other.

It wasn’t until midday that I found her. In the twelfth-floor break room, alone, humming some weird tune as she shoved a plastic tray of luminous food inside the microwave.

“Human!”

Holly jumped out of her skin, stumbling backward, knocking into the bin, and brought a hand up to her chest.

“Gees, Goldie, you nearly gave me a heart attack.”

“I’m going to give you more than a heart attack.”

The smile dropped from her face in an instant as I approached her. In my pocket, I slipped my finger into the ring part of the small device I’d bought.

“Tell me. And don’t you dare say love.” I closed the gap between our bodies, brought my lips to her temple, my hand wrapping around the base of her neck. The fly of my jeans already digging uncomfortably into my flesh.Seriously?

Holly’s breath hitched. “It’s lo—”

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