Never gonna be that shy,
Always here to brighten up your day’s gloom.’
Horror roots me in place. It was the most atrocious butchering of a song I’ve ever heard. Every cell in my body bristles with shock and growing rage.
The undeniable and delicious aroma wafting from the strawberry cakes as well as the basket of gingerbread cookies she holds adds to the dissonance of the moment.
Only one person could be this evil, despicable, and saccharine sweet all at the same time.
The frothy pink cream puff of doom.
My restraint is stretched too thin, and I feel a change boiling within me. Animal growls, guttural and fierce, rip their way out from my throat. My skin prickles, fur begins to sprout as my bones creak, trying to shift.
It takes every ounce of willpower not to go berserk before breaking the messenger into two pieces before flinging them onto Goldie’s property.
The singing cookie's eyes widen in terror. She bolts, abandoning her song mid-verse. Her basket of cookies tumbles, scattering the treats across the lawn as she runs away, screaming. I'm left grappling with the raging beast within, pulling at the reins of control.
With a supreme effort, I grab the impulse to shift and reel it back in until the emerging fur recedes and the menacing growl dies in my throat. I never lost control of my animal before.
I take a deep breath, the scent of gingerbread lingering as a taunting reminder. A car screeches out of the driveway, kicking up gravel in the singer’s wake.
Fae creatures don’t typically live in human cities, and I usually have no problem keeping a low profile and blending in. But my neighbor is making it supremely witchtitting impossible to keep my head down.
And now this? A barrage of pink heart cakes holding me hostage at my own door while someonesingsat me?
My jaw clenches so tight, my teeth threaten to crack.
Goldie is clearly psychotic, and this ends now.
Not bothering to avoid the confections, I stomp through them, head around my house and walk up the hill to the Victorian mansion.
The door rattles under my fist.
I don’t stop knocking until it opens. The sight of her throws my anger completely off tilt as I swallow hard, feeling my heart pound into my ribs with earth shaking force. Goldie stands before me, barefoot in an oversized shirt and cut-off jean shorts that show off her generous thighs. Surprisingly her nails are painted a glossy black. I would have guessed she’d go with pink since it comprises everything else she wears.
Her wheat and sun-streaked hair is up in a messy bun and dirt is smeared across her face, like she’s been rooting around a dirty basement.
I try to hold my breath as best I can as her scent shoots straight down to my tongue again, teasing and tingling every taste bud I have.
Pink lips slide up either side of her face. “Good morning,” she chirps.
There is a menace behind her greeting, and I know to my bones she is as evil as she is adorable. With that smile and pep, she could get away with murder then be let off with no charges and a ride home.
But I’m not fooled. She’s the devil incarnate.
“This has to stop.”
“What has to stop?” she asks, batting her lashes at me.
My stomach flips over backwards several times.
Fuck. Why does she have such a visceral effect on me? And what the faehell is that unique scent under all her sweetness?
“Oh, did you get the present I left on your doorstep?” she continues. Those big brown eyes track down my body until they connect with the dirty pink remnants stuck to my feet. An eyebrow raises.
“You’re psychotic,” I growl. “And I told you, I like to be left alone.”
Goldie rolls her eyes. “I don’t see why you need to make things so unpleasant. If you got to know me, you’d see I’m a great person to have around.”
