Page 114 of By the Fae

“Leech.”

“Leech?”

“Steal. You steal my glamour. My little magic thief.”

“I thought you were gift wrapping it for me?”

“I’ll give you anything, baby girl. Just name it and it’s yours. You want the moons? Which ones and how many? I am yours. I exist for you.”

“I only want you,” Holly said. Her face contorted into a frown. “No, wait, that’s not true. I also want your cooking, and I want to hang around in your apartment playing video games, and I want Mal’s Motley Meals, and sunrises, and unobscured views of your obliques, and . . . can you glamour a tapir into your room one day? I really want to meet a tapir.”

“Anything, baby girl.” My face was aching from smiling so much. I was half-tempted to glamour the big mammal right there into the conference hall, but there were more important things I needed to tell her first. I pulled her closer into my body, pressing my lips against her temple. “When you first started working for FaeGames, that was when I knew I was in serious trouble. I couldn’t get you out of my head, but I couldn’t bring myself to start a conversation with you. I was too afraid of what it could lead to. When I looked at Seth, I saw you. And bit by bit, I realised if I didn’t push you away, I was headed for catastrophe. So, I tried everything I could to show you what a miserable bastard I was. To make you see I wasn’t a person you should ever be involved with. You still found a way. Still wormed yourself into my life, and I hated that about you. I hated myself more because I couldn’t seem to just let you go. I panicked because of what Mal had been through.”

She shot a quick look over to Mal, leaning against the bar chatting to the very eager looking Alina and Shell. He seemed to sense we were looking in his direction, paused and gave us both a short salute before returning his attention to my colleagues.

“But I realised I needed you. To function. To live. Life is not life if you are not part of it. So, if you decide you want to live only your human years, then I will spend every single one of them by your side.”

“Goldie . . .”

“But we are fated. Fated mates. I know that now. We are meant to be together. And now that I’ve found you, I won’t let you go.”

A bubble of laughter escaped her throat. “The treasure is love,” she said.

“The fucking treasure is love,” I said, laughing too.

“Bro!” shouted Bailey, knocking into me and interrupting our moment. Probably for the best, since I was getting increasingly desperate to lay Holly down and mount her. “I’m in love.”

“Already?” I said.

“And I’ve joined a band!”

“What the hell?” I turned around and there stood Holly’s sister, Abby, wearing a tiny little black dress and executioner-style platform boots. She gave me a sheepish wave.

Bailey handed her a plastic cup of rust-coloured liquid. “Here’s your drink, my angel of darkness. Is it okay if I . . .” He paused and gingerly draped his arm over her shoulders. “Touch you like this?”

She nodded. I flashed him a thumbs up. He gaped at Abby, then turned to me and mouthed, “Holy crap.”

“Holly, this is my baby brother, Bailey,” I said.

“Oh, goodness, it’s so good to meet you.” Holly extended her hand for him to shake but found both his hands occupied with either a drink or her sister, so she also gave him a thumbs up.

“My real name is Hay Bale,” he said, apparently not seeing my head shaking from side to side.

“Hay Bale, okay.” Holly looked at me like she needed help.

“Hey, I have a question,” Bailey said. “Is it dobermanns or dobermenn?”

“There’s no booze in that, is there?” Holly asked, pointing at the plastic cups.

Bailey eyeballed the drink in Abby’s hand. “Just cherry cola. Have you ever seen a werewolf before?” he asked Abby. “Because I just met two and one is called Jackson with a C.K.S and the other is called Jaxon with an X! It’s wild! You have to meet them!”

Abby gave Holly a helpless little shrug. “Hols, you were great, by the way.” And together, our siblings disappeared into the crowd once more.

I immediately pulled Holly into a kiss, but she swerved out of it at the last second.

“So . . . Blankets Golden?”

“Fucking hell, Sugar Paste told you?”

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