CHAPTER EIGHT
Kayla
Another night without a door between our bedrooms. Another flash of Shadow naked. Another round of tossing and turning and imagining him only a few feet away before finally falling asleep, my first alarm coming far too early.
I tap it off and roll over for another ten minutes, then do it two more times.
I don’t care how “irrational” it seems, as Bradley, my one and only boyfriend, complained flipping constantly.
Setting my alarm to the actual time I want to get up doesn’t work for me.
Getting to have three extra naps while I wake up gradually does.
Suck it, Bradley.
I blink open my eyes to find Shadow sitting up in his bed, watching me intently. The sheet pools around his waist, leaving his delicious chest bare, and his wild mane of black and silver hair looks sleep-tousled and yummy.
“Bathroom!” Calling dibs, I throw back the covers and jump out of bed, moving faster than I normally do this early in the day. No way in hell do I want to see him walk around naked in the bright light of morning.
That’s a lie.
I totally want to see him naked in the bright light of morning, but it’s a no-good, bad, horrible idea.
Which is why I practically run to the bathroom, leaning back against the closed door to catch my breath.
The simple beauty of the white-tiled room calms me.
A shower-curtain hoop hangs over the original lovely white claw-footed tub, which I outfitted with an oil-rubbed bronze showerhead that looks like something from early in the last century but works wonderfully.
By the time I make it downstairs, Shadow’s scooping up scrambled eggs with wedges of buttered toast. He gestures to the counter. “There’s coffee.”
“Thanks.” I shuffle over and pour a cup, doctoring it with milk and chocolate syrup.
“Would you like eggs? I can make more.”
I pull a box of chocolate cereal from the cupboard. “Nah, I’m good.”
We sit side by side on stools at the kitchen island, eating and sipping coffee. Sunlight and warm grass-scented air pour through the open window over the sink, and birds chirp happily outside. It’s kinda strange that it’s not strange to have him here, doing the domestic-bliss thing.
Or maybe it’s the way Victoria fills the atmosphere with a feeling of smug contentment.
When he finishes, he cleans up and heads for the backyard. “I’m going to work on the door.”
“Yeah, I gotta get to work, too.”
I pour another cup of coffee, carry it into the office, and fire up the computer.
An impatient email from Topher lurks in my mailbox, wanting to know when I’ll send the detailed outline of my new game’s plot.
When I quit Morlano Games to move to Ferndale Falls, I became their first freelance contractor.
Topher went from being my boss to being my liaison, and he’s never been happy about it.
Instead of dealing with it like a damned adult, he takes it out on me by being a complete asshat every chance he gets.
I know this, but it still gets me every time, tangled rage filling my chest and twanging against my social anxiety until I long to send an angry reply. But I know that’s a horrible idea.
Instead, I log into my favorite gaming Discord, the Buffy Guild.
It offers a place for women, NB, and trans people to have a safe space to talk about working in the cis-male-dominated gaming industry.
As great as it’s been to make friends with the Witch Bitches in real life, sometimes a gamer girl needs her own peeps.
I open a private chat with my two gaming besties.
Xena4Eva lives in Vancouver, and Ipwnedurass started working at Morlano Games in Seattle a month after I left, so we’ve never met in real life, but we chat daily.
AmethystAssassin: Got another email from Topher. This guy. THIS GUY.
Xena4Eva: What did that asshat do this time?
AmethystAssassin: I’ve got another month on my deadline, but he’s talking like I’m already late.
AmethystAssassin: I’ve never been late! Not once! But if he’s putting this shit in emails, what is he saying around the office? This is my career. The way I keep a roof over my head. I don’t need him ruining my reputation.
Xena4Eva: It’s some bullshit.
Ipwnedurass: everyone at work knows he’s an asshat
AmethystAssassin: An asshat who got promoted into a management role.
Xena4Eva: Oh, to fail upward like a mediocre white man!
Ipwnedurass: want me to hunt down his avatar in Bloodborne and bring the pain?
That startles a laugh from me. The guys at Morlano created a group that plays the game together, so she’ll be able to find him no prob, but…
Xena4Eva: Do it!
AmethystAssassin: I don’t want you to get in trouble with him.
Ipwnedurass: not going to be an issue. I’ve got a second playable character no one here knows about
AmethystAssassin: Then yes, please! That would be AMAZING!
Xena4Eva: Back to real-world Topher. I know you want to rage, but you know what you have to do.
Ipwnedurass: tequila shots? killing his character in-game again and again?
Xena4Eva: You calm down, you write an extremely professional reply, and you document all of this shit in case you ever need it.
AmethystAssassin: You’re right. I flipping hate it, but you’re right. Why do women always have to be the nice ones?
Ipwnedurass: don’t worry. I got you. I just shot his character with both barrels of my repeating pistol. he took major damage
AmethystAssassin: You’re the best!
Xena4Eva: You go, girl!
Ipwnedurass: [sends a gif of Deadpool taking a bow]
AmethystAssassin: Okay. If I write my reply in the next five minutes, can you check it to make sure it’s professional enough?
Xena4Eva: Of course! I got you, boo.
Ipwnedurass: what she said
I read Topher’s email again before typing my reply.
Anger still burns in me, but it’s focused now.
I make my words as cool and clinical as possible to let him know he can’t rile me into making any mistakes.
When my besties give it a thumbs up, I hit send before relaxing back into my ergonomic gaming chair with a sigh.
“What’s wrong?” Shadow asks from behind me.
I jolt and spin around.
“What makes you think anything’s wrong?”
He stands in the doorway. “I could smell you were upset.”
“Smell?” What the hell? I point to the open window, which faces the backyard. “From all the way outside?”
“Yes, shifter senses.” He stalks over to me. “That’s not important. Tell me what’s wrong.”
Him being able to smell the way I’m flipping feeling seems pretty damned important to me!
Hell, I have trouble understanding the way I’m feeling on the regular.
Whenever my social anxiety hits, I feel like a computer that’s maxed out its processing power, the little wheel for “working” spinning and spinning.
But here comes Shadow. He’s already in my house, he’s sneaking into my thoughts, and now he’s all up in my feelings!
“I don’t like it when you’re upset.” He gives my shoulder a squeeze. “Tell me.”
“I got an email from the gaming company I freelance for. The guy I deal with there implied I was late on my project, even though I’m not.”
“Irritating.” Shadow bares his fangs. “Want me to pay him a little visit?”
“First off, no. I’m handling it in a way that won’t get me fired. Second, he’s on the other side of the country.”
“First off, he’ll never associate me with you.” In a pulse of magic, he shifts into his werepanther form. Standing this close, he looms, seven feet of fur-covered muscle tipped with fangs and claws. “Secondly, I travel the shadow roads, remember? I can run very, very quickly in this form.”
I’ve never feared Shadow—and I still don’t—but the coiled power emanating from him makes goosebumps prickle across my skin.
Most of the games I play contain fighting, but it’s all done via a game controller.
Shadow, on the other hand, is a real warrior.
Hell, he even helped save Ferndale Falls and all of Earth from evil fae when Naomi first opened the door to Faerie.
The thought of him using those same skills to defend me is so heady I shiver.
“No. Thank you, but no.” I shake my head, trying to dislodge the temptation. A sigh escapes me, and I admit, “Topher’s not the real problem.”
Shadow’s magic washes through the room with his shift, and he crouches beside my chair to look me directly in the eyes. “Tell me.”
“Topher’s email was annoying, but it made me angry because… he’s not one-hundred percent wrong. I am behind on this game.” I rub a hand over my face. “Some of it’s been the time spent finding a roommate. I had to get Victoria cleaned up, do repairs.”
Interior doors slam all over the house.
“I’m not saying I regret it.” I look up at the ceiling. “I’m saying it took time.”
The office door clicks open, and a feeling of appeasement fills the room.
“The roommate problem is no longer an issue,” Shadow growls.
Easy for him to say. What’s going to happen in a month? He can walk away from this situation. Will he really want to live here as a roommate once our “marriage” dissolves?
He captures my hand between his. “You said some of the problem was time spent finding a roommate. What’s the other part?”
“I’m stuck.” God, that’s so flipping hard to say out loud.
I haven’t even told my gaming besties. “I’ve got about a third of the game plotted out, but...
” My free hand flutters at the computer screen.
“I’m stuck. Everything’s starting to feel like games I already worked on.
I need some new ideas, but I can’t seem to find any I like. ”
“What do you usually do?”
“Get inspired by things I read, TV shows I watch. For my last game, I was inspired by Naomi’s stories and all the fae who now live in Ferndale Falls.” My lips curl. “That was a fun one to write.”
He hums in thought, the sound a deep purr in his throat, his eyes going a little distant. Then they snap back to me, and he grins, wide and wicked. “I have an idea.”
Shadow leads me upstairs to his bedroom.
“Hey, now, what are you playing at?” I hesitate in the doorway. “We’re not going to do any… um… hanky panky.” I wince at the fussy phrase. Hanky panky? Where the hell did that come from? Maybe he won’t know it’s seriously old-fashioned. If he says anything, I can say I used it ironically.
“I have no idea what that means, but it sounds kinky.” His tongue teases his fang. When I narrow my eyes, he waves me into the room. “I promise it’s nothing like that.”
I haven’t been inside his room since he moved in, and the opening between our rooms pretty much only shows me his bed, so I’m surprised at how much has changed.
The built-in bookcases look like someone emptied the props department of a fantasy movie. The feel of several overlapping magicks makes my skin hum.
My eyes go wide, my voice an awed whisper. “What is all of this?”
“My wages. This is Faerie gold I haven’t deposited in the bank yet.
” He gestures to a couple of shelves covered in stacks of gleaming golden coins.
“For the rest, not everyone uses gold in Faerie, so I also get paid in other ways, such as gems.” He points to a pile of raw, uncut stones in a range of colors, including a ruby I swear is the size of my big toe.
“Or some people barter weapons.” Bows, arrows, and daggers fill the lower shelves, and there’s even a sword.
I’ve wielded weapons like these in tons of video games but never touched one in real life.
“Are these magical? I can feel magic in the room.”
“No, I keep all of that over here.” He pulls me over to the other bookcase and runs his fingers across the front of a shelf holding crystals in various colors.
“Each of these is bespelled.” Then he moves on to another shelf full of small vials and bottles in a range of shapes, sizes, and colors, each clearly handmade.
“These are magical potions.” He crouches in front of more shelves holding weapons.
“These are all bespelled. Most are minor enchantments, but I have two prizes. This sword can block any blow, no matter how skilled the wielder, and this elven arrow will always fly true.”
“Elven? I thought there weren’t any more elves. Didn’t the Dark God turn them all into shadow fae a long time ago?”
“He did. This arrow is over three hundred years old.”
I gape at him, utterly flabbergasted. And there’s another old-timey word I never thought I’d use unironically, but here we are.
“I obtained a healing potion from the dragon realm and took it to a blighted village in Avalon. Severin was grateful. He might live here on Earth, but he still works to restore his home realm.”
“So you saved the lives of an entire village.”
He nods and rests his hand on the hilt of the sword. “And for this, I reunited a family of gnomes who’d been caught in different realms when the doors of Faerie closed. They didn’t know how to find each other.”
“How did you do it?”
“When I walk the shadow roads, my intention creates the path that forms in front of me. For this job, I carried the gnome who hired me and asked the road to take me to their family.” Shadow’s lips curl in a soft smile.
“It was one of the hardest jobs I’ve ever had to do, but their reunion was so joyous I have no regrets. ”
“This is all so amazing.” My fingers tingle as I run them along the shaft of the arrow. “This look into Faerie is so flipping fascinating! Thank you.”
“Then I’ll have to show you more.” He grins.