Mochas and Minotaurs (Possessive Monsters #8)

Chapter 6

Marcus

I brought the heavy glass tumbler to my lips and took a sip. I’d insisted on breaking out the whiskey to tell my story. I needed it.

“Only one other person knows about this, so if this gets out, I know where you live.” I kept my tone casual, but I meant it. This was a secret and had to remain so. I didn’t even understand why my minotaur insisted I tell her. It was a big risk.

“All right, now you’re kinda scaring me. This feels big.”

“It is to me. But I don’t think it’s big in the grand scheme of things. No one will miss one minotaur except for my friends.”

“Your life is on the line?” she asked with furrowed brows.

“Oh no, my life will be fine. It’s my freedom that I’m worried about.”

“You’re not some kind of wanted felon, are you? Is that why you have such a clean and pristine record? Because it’s fake?”

I chuckled. “No, nothing like that.” I turned serious again. “But if she finds me, I’ll be dragged off to a place that might as well be a prison. And up until just a few minutes ago, I thought I was safe. I have no idea how she found me.”

Everything around me suddenly felt suspect. I glared at the walls like somehow they’d given me away. I checked to make sure the blinds were all closed. They were, but it didn’t stop the overwhelmingly irrational thoughts that someone could be watching me.

“Is this place warded?” she asked.

“Warded?”

“Blocked from magical intrusion,” she said, like that explained it. “You know, to stop anyone from listening or spying on you.”

“No.” Despite being a monster, I didn’t know much about magic itself. But I understood what she meant by wards now: barriers against magic. “You think that’s a possibility?”

She shrugged. “That depends on how much magic the other side has and how much they want to get their hands on you.”

“Shit. And all this time, I thought I was being a dumb, irrational conspiracy theorist when I worried about the walls having eyes and ears and giving me away. The other side definitely has access to quite a bit of magic, and I’m sure they really, really want to get their hands on me.”

She rolled her eyes. “And you never thought to guard against it?”

“I didn’t know how. I’m a minotaur, but I was raised like a human. Maman told me I had to hide what I was, or I’d be locked up forever. I thought I was the only one for the longest time. I most definitely didn’t know about magic.”

Her face softened. “Oh, then you’re forgiven.” She moved to one of the external walls, one not attached to her side of the building. “The good thing is I don’t feel any magical spells inside your home or shop right now. I’m going to cast a blanket of silence anyway, just in case your phones or devices have been hacked.”

I took out my phone and frowned at it suspiciously. I hadn’t thought of that either, and for that I had no excuse. I was raised with technology. I’d been living such a normal life, hidden away under my new alias here in Darlington, that I’d gotten too lax.

Gigi’s hands danced in the air, and she mumbled some words I couldn’t decipher. Then she grabbed the edge of something I couldn’t see and threw it into the air.

“All done. Your words won’t leave this circle.”

I didn’t know what circle she referred to, but I trusted her. I’d probably be able to see it if I could see magic like Declan, but I couldn’t.

“I guess I should start at the beginning,” I said, rolling the amber liquid in the glass. “Whenever the hell that was. I don’t know when this all started, but it was many generations ago. Back in the day, there weren’t many options for known monsters. It was either hide and hope the mob didn’t find you, become so powerful they can’t hurt you, or hide under the wings of someone who was.”

“What about The Wall?” she asked. “Didn’t it hide you guys from regular humans?”

“The Wall hid what we were, but some people knew anyway. And once enough people saw through the veil, there was no coming back. At least not with my family. A dragon masquerading as a merchant made a deal with my forefather. He’d protect and care for his mate and offspring if my many-times great-grandfather guarded his hoard.”

Her eyes grew wide. “A dragon!”

“Yes. And my family has been guarding his hoard ever since. The firstborn son of the last guardian must take his place.” I couldn’t stop my anger and irritation at the situation from oozing out and coloring my words.

“And you don’t want to continue this tradition,” she said perceptively.

“No. I do not. I have my own life to live, and I do not want to give it up so I can lose my mind roaming a maze for the rest of my existence, guarding something I don’t give a fuck about.”

“Did you just say a maze? Like the labyrinth at Knossos?”

“Yeah, the dragon has a sense of humor. He built a replica of the labyrinth over the entrance of his treasure hoard.”

“So you ran off to avoid being stuck in this labyrinth.”

“Yes. It’s a goddamn prison sentence for the crime of being born me. That’s why I left the old world and came here. Darlington is under the protection of another dragon, and I hoped that would be enough of a deterrent. Plus, there are plenty of other monsters here. Even other minotaurs. And since a lot of monsters show up here with no IDs, I was able to craft a new identity and start fresh. I hid in plain sight for years.”

“And I’m guessing you can’t just say no to a dragon.”

“No. The only way I figured I could get out of this was to find a loophole in the contract. The problem is I didn’t sign the original contract. I’ve never even read it. I’m not sure it really exists. So, I ran.

“Once we’re in the maze, we aren’t allowed out until we’re too old to serve. But by that time, we’re all fucked in the head after years of isolation. My granddad set a village on fire, then threw himself off a cliff when he came out and realized the woman who had my dad with him was now happily married. She was horrified that the monster went looking for her. To my grandmother, having and raising my dad was just a well-paying gig. Nothing more.”

“Shit. That sucks. I’m sorry.” But Gigi was smart and put two and two together. “Your mother is the same way?”

I chugged the rest of my liquor. Realizing that Maman only thought of me as a paycheck had been hard, but I’d had years to come to terms with it. But admitting it to this gorgeous, talented witch was more embarrassing than I could have imagined.

“Maman was contracted, just like my grandma and all the women before her. She was paid to go into the maze, conceive a male child, and then raise him. She was paid well too. We never wanted for anything growing up.”

“Let me guess, now that you’ve run off, it’s her job to drag you back so she can continue living a cushy life.”

“Bingo. My grandfather was considered a lucky one. Most of my forefathers never left the maze at all; they died protecting it. The fact that Elise is showing up now after all these years? I can only guess that my father is dead and they need me to replace him.”

I watched her face closely as she processed the information, looking for signs of what she might be thinking. I hated that she already knew this about me. I didn’t want her to pity me.

“I don’t know how to react. That fucking sucks. But I’m happy you got out, and I’m glad I helped you. Do you think she’d keep checking this place? Just to make sure?”

“She would.”

She nodded. “Then I’ll have to craft you a glamor spell you can use whenever you need.”

“The gym doesn’t open for two more weeks, so technically I don’t need to see anyone yet. When it opens, Declan and the receptionist can do most of the front-facing work anyway. I technically don’t need to be a presence there all the time.”

“Maybe by the time your gym opens she’ll have seen enough to give up.”

I wasn’t so sure. “Thank you for helping me. How can I repay you?”

Her eyes dragged over my body, lingering on my biceps, and the smoldering look on her face had me thinking of the many hours I’d had her in my bed.

“Oh,” she said, her lips curling up in a devious smile, “I have some ideas. Come by at closing time. The coffee shop closes at 6 p.m. on weekdays. ”

Topless vacuuming was not what I’d had in mind when Gigi said she had ideas on how I could repay her. But here I was, vacuuming her home as she looked on from her seat on the velvet couch.

Her place was a maximalist’s dream. It was filled with all manners of objects: knickknacks, books, candles, crystals, and curiosities of all kinds lovingly curated and lined up on shelves and stored behind glass in cabinets. I was willing to bet a good number of the objects here were magical.

In addition to the multitude of oddities, her home was also furnished with a sumptuous array of fibers and fabrics, from the deep red velvet of the couch and the handmade afghan tossed over it, to the billowing curtains hanging in front of the windows.

I eyed the wall hanging of a raven on a branch set against a crescent moon. It was made of tiny X-shaped stitches and must have taken forever to make. Someone had most definitely made it because she certainly hadn’t found that next to the Live Laugh Love prints at the local home decor store.

There were several houseplants—a bunch of succulents, and a single cactus—on the windowsill.

But the pièce de resistance was Triscuit, Griselda’s African grey parrot. The bird had his eyes on me when I walked in, and even though Gigi had thrown a blanket over the cage to hide the vacuum cleaner from the bird, I kept hearing maniacal laughter coming from its cage every time I stopped vacuuming. The bird’s oversized flight cage sat against one of the walls and, like Gigi’s home, was filled to the brim with colorful toys.

Despite how full the home was, it smelled fresh and clean. Her numerous collections were lifted off the floor; everything had a home and was displayed like treasures.

I guided the stick vacuum under the table one last time before turning it off. The silence was greeted by evil-sounding laughter again, followed by rhythmic bird chanting. I frowned, hoping that birds couldn’t cast spells.

I returned the vacuum to the closet, washed my hands, and returned to see that Triscuit was out of his cage now that the scary vacuum was gone. He stood on the perch above his cage, mumbling to his reflection in the tiny hanging mirror.

Gigi motioned me over to the couch.

“Now to cast the final spell.” Gigi’s mouth moved silently, and the room brightened for a split second, so fast I wondered if I’d imagined it. “Done!”

She held up the single cuff earring I’d given to her earlier for the spell, and I took it from her.

“So the spell is in here?” I held up the earring. It didn’t look any different.

“Yup. Just rub it and say, ‘Hot-crossed man-buns,’ and the spell will turn on and off.”

“Hot-crossed man-buns?? You’re kidding, right?”

“Nope. I’m completely serious.” She failed at keeping her face neutral, and the corner of her lips twitched up in an amused smile. “But for complete transparency, it’s attached to me, just like the magical wards around my home. When it’s on, it’s using my magic, so I’ll know when you’re using it.”

“It won’t be too much, will it?” I knew that witches had limited energy they could generate at any given time.

“It should be fine. This is a more complex form of a basic glamor spell. I want to make sure no one can see through it, even with magic. You mentioned a dragon, so I have to assume that this dragon would have witches and wizards at his disposal.”

“Right. Does that mean I have to turn every mirror in my home around? That’ll be hard in the gym. If the mirrors ever get here.” I’d gotten an email earlier from the vendor saying they were sending them out again tomorrow. I just hoped they arrived with no issues.

Gigi laughed. “I’m not sure where you’re getting your information, but we don’t need a mirror to see you.”

I narrowed my eyes at her. “I’m beginning to think that little bit in your café about you failing at witchcraft is a lie,” I said wryly, like I hadn’t just witnessed her successfully cast a bunch of spells today.

“Well, that depends on your definition of failure. I had a tarot reading business before this. It was a failure because it didn’t make any money. Coffee, however, does. I’m not amazing, but I’m not crappy either. I just prefer people underestimate me than the other way around.”

“So you’re a sleeper witch. Got it. “

I looked around for a mirror since I wasn’t great at putting my jewelry on without one as I rarely took them off.

“Here. Let me do it,” She pulled me to sit down next to her on the couch, then took the earring from me.

She leaned in and I held my breath as she put the earring in. I was highly aware that I didn’t have my usual glamor on—like the glamor I’d kept on through our night together. The combination of magic and perception was powerful. Often what we saw was what we felt, the brain filling and correcting imperfect details.

Gigi had known I wasn’t human, but she hadn’t pried that night. Now, she didn’t shy away from my downturned bovine ears. Her hands were soft as she carefully fitted the earring back into place.

I made the mistake of inhaling too early, and the scent of her filled my lungs. Every detail from our night together came rushing back, and something in me snapped. My minotaur took over, and I pulled her the rest of the way onto me. Her smaller body fell into mine and I wrapped my arms around her.

She gasped, even as my lips crashed onto hers, claiming her. After a moment of surprise, she started to kiss me back, accepting my invitation with a soft moan that threatened to strip away my ability to think.