Page 17 of Wanted: A Roommate Who Isn't Evil

Luc shrugged. “Suit yourself then.” He leaned forward and took hold of both sides, ready to slip away with it.

Dranian’s eyes widened. He grabbed the basket to keep it with him in the market, and the fairies locked eyes, tension and magic blurring the space between them. Dranian tugged a little. Luc tugged back, squinting his gaze in concentration—a common trait of a Shadow about to vanish. All the resistance dropped from Dranian’s grip as he realized he was going to get left behind.

His new shoes squeaked against the tile floor as he leapt into the cart at the last second and gripped both sides for dear life.

Luc’s roaring laughter filled the market. The fox pushed the cart with Dranian inside and pointed to a human mother with her round-cheeked childling sitting at the basket’s front. “Look, North Fairy. We’re like them. You’re just like that childling over there, only you’re five times its size. How funny.”

There was not enough cold in the entire human realm to tame the fire in Dranian’s expression as Luc rolled the basket up to the market servants where beings went to pay. The servant eyed the fairies oddly, and though Dranian was miffed at all the humans’ questioning looks, he also worried Luc would airslip without him if he got out.

He adjusted his footing to get more comfortable and looked down with a scowl when something crunched beneath his shoe. “I’ve crushed the carton of bird eggs!” he growled.

Luc reached past him to drag the carton out of the basket. He flipped open the lid to inspect the eggs for a moment. Then he handed them to the market servant. “I think we’ll leave these here,” he decided.

The servant looked at Luc in disbelief. “Are you kidding?”

Then Luc said, “They were like that when we found them.”

“You just crushed these a second ago right in front of me,” the servant stated in a scolding tone.

Though it went against everything Dranian stood for, he shook his head, denying it. “No. No, I did not.” He bit his lips so tight, he thought they’d burst as he and the market servant engaged in a staring standoff.

Luc sighed. “Fine. You’re right, Human, he did crush them. So,hewill pay for them.” Luc yanked the carton of destroyed eggs back and tossed them to Dranian still in the cart. Dranian missed the catch, and just like that, twelve eggs splattered across the market floor.

Dranian stared at them as yolk seeped into the floor cracks. He glared back at Luc. Justoncehe would like to come to the market without making a mess.

Pumpkins. Mugs. Eggs.

If only foxes were so easily broken.

Dranian was astounded they hadn’t been banned from the market for eternity. He slid the pasta into the cupboard and grabbed the tin of coffee with his other hand. He reached to put the tin on the high shelf, but a searing pain burned through his arm. He choked, dropping the tin onto the counter with aclang.

Luc sat at the kitchen table chewing on a “popsicle stick” after having devoured a sweet ice treat. The fox had remained sitting while he’d watched Dranian put away all the cold items in the fridge first and then move on to the cupboard food. The fox’sbroad smile appeared, the stick hanging from his wickedly happy mouth. He seemed to make that face every time Dranian struggled.

For a moment—for onesinglemoment—Dranian had been relieved to have enough food to fill his cupboards. He hadn’t had this many groceries since he moved in. But… there was a reason he never put things on the high shelf. Perhaps the small joy of having so much food had made him forget that he was too shattered to put it away.

“You could help,” Dranian growled toward the table.

“I’m enjoying being in the audience,” Luc assured. But he stood and sauntered over with a sigh. He picked up the coffee tin, looked at it briefly, then reached to the highest shelf of all—one that Dranian would surely find too difficult to reach every morning—and he slid the tin onto it with the tips of his fingers.

Dranian stared up at the coffee in dismay.

Luc reached for the sugar next and tossed that up onto the high shelf, too. Then he went for the pasta—

“Forget it,” Dranian mumbled, yanking the pasta away. “I’ll do it.”

Luc nodded. “As you wish, North Fairy.” He wandered out of the kitchen. A minute later, Dranian heard TV sounds fill the living space.

Dranian cradled the bag of pasta as he glared in the direction the nine tailed fox had disappeared. He’d hoped Luc would tire quickly of sharing space, but it seemed Luc wasn’t in a rush toleave the apartment at all. In fact, the fool seemed rather comfortable taking over Dranian’s couch and TV and cereal and bowl and spoon, like it was the most natural thing in the realm. And for that, Dranian found his mood was even worse.

He slid the pasta away along with the rest of the groceries, his mind turning and brewing plots. He thought of Luc’s reaction to the dog in the grocery store. And suddenly, Dranian realized the solution to his predicament had been right in front of him this whole time.

“They are the most revolting creatures in the entire human realm.”

Just then, in the quaint apartment kitchen, surrounded by more groceries than could have fit in one simple bag, the fairy who hardly ever smiled, smiled just a little.

“Oh, I forgot to tell you,” Dranian called into the living room with fresh vigor. “I told my brothers you were here. And do you know what they said?”

The TV went quiet. Luc didn’t speak. It seemed he was waiting.

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