Page 6 of Goblin Candy

I follow her tantalizing perfume deeper into the library, passing by numerous booths with games, most aimed at children but a few that seem to draw adult crowds. A reader draws cards from a silk bag as her client sits before her, and another booth has a female and male team who are trading kisses for donations—a good cause that might have tempted me if my entire being weren’t already marked by my mate. Everywhere I look are smiling pumpkins and scarecrows, the latter which are wonderfully eye-catching and marginally unsettling even those with the smiles of born prey upon them. The tables also contain various sweet treats that fill large bowls to the brim that I plunder in passing. I fill my mouth with handfuls of their wonderful sweetness as I walk, my tail lashing behind me.

I don’t linger in any place as I move along as nothing seems capable of tempting my attention away from my female. Certainly not the costumed females, nor the games that might have once amused me to at least watch for a spell. Not even the long table set up along one far wall where I catch the scent of the most tantalizing desserts that make my mouth water. As much as I long to follow my nose to the delicacies there, the scent of my mate and the instinct of the hunt carry me past it to a winding set of stairs that seem to have been covered with carefully placed tarps to create a tunnel. I give it a long look, not entirely trusting hidden spaces, butherscent drifts down to me from somewhere up there and that decides it.

I take the stairs swiftly, weaving from side to side as I do just in case anyone might try to use the moment to their advantage and trap me. No one does, but it is a relief when I spill out from the top and nearly run down a group of young humans in front of me. The group is comprised entirely of females, each at the gate of adulthood and each dressed as witches with different colors and patterns in their costumes.

One of the females, the one in an orange dress with a spray of golden stars across her costume and highlighting her cheeks, glances back at me over her shoulder. Eyebrows raised, her eyes slide over me with an unmistakable appreciation that I choose to ignore, and she smiles. She nudges the female beside her, and one by one her companions all look back at me with variations of the same expression on their faces, like a flock of young birds eyeing a potential treat.

I return their smile and politely back up to discourage them from inviting themselves any closer. I have nothing against the curiosity of youth, but even a goblin has strict boundaries when it comes to such things. I’m as good as mated and off the market to other females as far as I’m concerned.

The females notice my retreat and giggle as they seem to move together closer in their shared amusement. Just ahead of them, a young male costumed as some sort of skeletal figure dressed in old human fashion, smiles and pulls back a tarp barrier, gesturing them forward with a gloved hand. He is closer of age to them, and the females look at him with open admiration that he returns as they shuffle through a tarped entrance, practically clinging to each other with murmurs of excitement. I give the entrance a critical look as they disappear through it. There must be something to this entire thing that they know and I do not.

My gaze roves over the space. The flat gray color of the material calls to mind some sort of stone. Perhaps it is meant to be like a dungeon or a cave. I do not know how this setup fits with the Halloween celebrations that I saw downstairs, but I have to admit that I’m curious. All I know is that it’s a clearly designed walkway and that my mate’s scent filters up from the depths of it. My tail gives an impatient twitch as I wait until finally the young male draws back the curtain once more and waves me through.

The lighting within the improvised tunnel is dimmer, but my eyes adjust to it with a natural ease which I suspect gives me an edge on the humans who have proceeded ahead of me. Though they have a head start, I can clearly hear their nervous shrieks of laughter and it brings a smile to my lips. Curious, I eye my surroundings and am delighted to see bookcases on either side of me, though they are covered with cottony imitations of spider’s webbing to which little plastic spiders cling. I pluck at it with a claw, my smile growing.

Do humans find this frightening? They should see the spiders that live in the fae realm.

I glance down at various glowing and sparking props that appear to be some sort of devices of electricity. Among them are several bowls set out with signs set up near them printed with scrawling penmanship. My eyebrows go up at the first sign.

Eyeballs? Truly?

“Welcome to my laboratory!” a male voice booms from a dark corner where he obviously believes he’s hidden. “I am Dr. Grim. Please explore my creations.”

A doctor. If I’m not mistaken, that is the human word for a healer. Here? I cock my head as I take in his long white coat smeared with all manner of foul things from the appearances of it. My nose wrinkles in distaste. This is certainly not a healer I would trust.

When I don’t move, he lets out an exasperated breath, and I feel like I’m perhaps missing some sort of cue.

“Place your hands in the bowls as you pass and explore my creations,” he clarifies, and a comprehension dawns.

I take a suspicious glance at the covered bowl supposedly laden with eyeballs. Surely he must be jesting.

“Explore my creations,” he repeats, and this time there is note of strain in his voice. Then he whispers, “Dude, come on. Just touch it and move forward. The line is backing up with people who want through the Haunted Library.”

Haunted… Library? Ah! So this is another sort of Halloween game. How quaint. I should be sure to tell my goblin kin of it because this could be great fun for games. I stick my hand in the bowl, feeling the slick, cold eyeballs slide between my fingers. There is a give to them that is quite convincing, and I chuckle before moving on to the next bowl. By the time I get to the end of the table, I’ve dipped my hand in all manner of slimy and bizarre substances. Of course, since I’ve felt the real things over various unfortunate hiccups in events that forced me to fight, I know it’s all a ruse, but I still find the whole experience delightful until I get to the end of the aisle and the questionable healer jumps out with a blade and a maniacal laugh that is quite good.

“Ah, good! An organ donor.” He laughs wildly and slashes the blade through the air.

With a laugh, I dodge the healer easily and give his arm a friendly pat. “Good luck with your next donor,” I impart cheerfully as I round the bend into the next aisle, the frightened shrieks and laughter up ahead of me, drawing me forward.

The ghostly hall is delightful as specters shift in the picture frames and masses of the webs blow from a fan set up at the end of the aisle. Even the female dressed as a ghost as she pops out wailing just tickles me. So much so that I’m not the least disappointed when the next aisle appears to be a mausoleum. It is of the sort that the high elves enjoy, revering their dead with all its stately, overdone importance played out with carboard cutouts of tombs and stone markers. A ghoul takes a swipe at me from behind one the tombs, drawing another delighted laugh from me.

This is all such fun! My tail flicking happily, my smile widens as I next find myself in what appears to be a swamp. There is fog that I suspect is produced from the soft whirr of a machine that I can hear form up ahead. The hung branches are reminiscent of a forest, and I’m curious as to what small thrill is to be expected here when my eyes fall on the male standing boldly at the end of the aisle stalking toward me.

My smile slips as the hair on the back of my neck rise. Though I do not smell another goblin, the male before me has a light on him and I can clearly see the horns of a sexually primed male and the dark hue of his skin. A flicker of doubt enters the back of my mind, but my instincts barrel through it, scattering my thoughts as they rise with a volatile rush of heat. The scent of my female is closer than ever, just around the corner… just pasthim. This male—a rival goblin—stands between me and my female. It’s not unusual for multiple males to be drawn to the same compatible female, and vice versa, but mating brings out the worst in my usually playful species and rivalry is never a peaceful or gentle matter. I apparently am no different.

I growl as my tail stiffens behind me, the tip whipping aggressively. I know that in the darker shadows of this part of the hall that my eyes are glowing, and the other male seems to pause, foolishly giving me the advantage and an opening. I leap across the lengthy distance separating us, dropping just in front of him. I plan to snatch him up out of my way and toss him aside and little more unless he contests my challenge, but to my shock the male screams and drops to the floor at my feet. My mouth gapes open as I stare down at him, and I hear the furious rush of feet and the bloom of my mate’s scent close in.

“What the hell!?”

My mate’s sharp outburst draws my eyes toward her, and my tongue spouts nonsense without direction of my brain.

“I won.”

CHAPTER5

CANDY

He won? Won what and how? I am confused as hell, but I’m also feeling really sorry for Brant passed out on the floor. Shit, that can’t be comfortable. But more than anything, I can’t seem to look away from the man who has been occupying my mind. Or rather the fae of questionable flavor. One thing is for sure: the tail flicking behind him is not a cosplay prop. It’s far too fluid in movement to be anything but real. Glowing eyes fasten on me as he straightens, and his long ears twitch at the sound of footsteps running our way.

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