Page 3 of Minding the Minotaur (Monsters of the Labyrinth #1)

S AMMY

I wait. And wait.

Long after those two folks have walked past, gotten in their cars and driven off, I’m still staring at the spot where the minotaur was.

After a while, I move gingerly over to the place where he disappeared and put out my hand. It slices through thin air.

Nothing.

No-one.

I call out quietly, “Hey there, um, Mister Minotaur.” If anyone heard me, they’d think I was totally crazy.

But then, this whole thing has been totally crazy, right?

Like seriously, I’ve just met a minotaur—a minotaur ! What’s more, a hot minotaur. I can’t deny the way my body reacted to this huge bull man appearing from freaking nowhere.

I should have been terrified, I really should. Maybe getting sacked has made me not care about my safety. Because when he towered above me and placed his hand over my mouth, his thick, strong arm encircling me, I felt… not scared. But what?

Safe.

Cared about.

Turned on.

Sammy, that’s just nonsensical.

I shake my head, telling myself that it must have been a hallucination. That getting sacked from DeVines has made me go soft in the head. Turned me into a crazy woman—literally.

But it was too real for that. I can still feel the effects of his nearness, my body yearning for his touch. My nipples are hard little pebbles inside my cotton bra, and my panties are definitely damp.

I’ve never reacted to a guy like that before. Let alone one with fur and horns and… and a tail. And when he pressed me against him, he was definitely packing something in his pants that was undeniably… not human.

My hand is so tempted to sneak down to the throbbing bud between my legs, but that would be so out of line in a public place, I gasp at my own audacious thought.

Whoever this guy was, he’s awakened a need in me I hadn’t even realized was there.

And now, he’s gone. And maybe I’ll never meet him again. Never feel his arms around me… experience his… Oh! The thought is unbearable.

I get down on my hands and knees and crawl around my car.

Look underneath it. Then sit there on my haunches and wait.

Maybe he’ll come back when he’s sure it's safe. What did he say that shimmering thing was? A portal cape. Portal? I run my mind back over the fantasy books I read as a kid. Magic portals. That cloak had to be some kind of magic, didn’t it?

How else could he have just appeared and disappeared into thin air?

I think through what he said. “The authorities don’t want your sort to know about our sort . ”

That would imply he isn’t unique, that there are more beings like him out there. Somewhere.

It feels like in the space of a few minutes, the whole universe as I thought I knew it has changed. Suddenly, there’s more to the world outside Sparkle City than dust and dangerous pollutants. There is somewhere else, somewhere that’s inhabited by monsters.

Monsters who are gorgeous. Sexy. Kind.

I recall how the minotaur’s eyes softened as he asked about my day, how he showed real interest in me. I swear, a girl could literally fall into the depths of those chocolate brown eyes and never resurface. And holy shit, his eyelashes were extreme!

After a few more minutes of waiting and whispering, I get up and check out the parking lot, looking behind posts, in case he’s playing some perverse game of peekaboo with me.

Maybe he’s going to leap on top of me. A zing of heat zaps between my legs at the thought, and my body thrums with excitement.

After another eternity of walking up and down the rows of cars, my heart drops.

He’s really gone, hasn’t he? And he isn’t coming back.

I head dejectedly back to my car. I have no idea how long I’ve been skulking around, looking for the minotaur, but I’m going to have to accept that this strange encounter is unlikely to be repeated.

With stiff fingers, I unlock my car, get in and put the key in the ignition.

As I navigate slowly toward the exit, half of me still expects him to jump out from behind a post, with a big grin on his face.

His smile would be so cute, like the one he greeted me with.

His eyes would twinkle, and for a brief second that thought makes me smile too.

He just felt so… so easy to be with. As though I’d known him forever.

Seems like I have a bad case of insta love for a horned beast who is probably just a figment of my imagination. An illusion I conjured up to deal with my hideously awful day.

But even though this is the most logical explanation, a part of me refuses to believe it.

By the time I hit Sapphire Boulevard, the deepening hue of evening enriches the marble facades and golden towers of the city’s center.

Soon, the spectacular nightly sunset display will take place, then the “sun” will go down and the sky will be pricked with a thousand stars.

Fake stars, but hey, we all love to gaze up at them on Heaven Hill, the place where lovers go to make out.

A ridiculous vision pops into my head of me, sitting on Heaven Hill with that big minotaur’s arm around my shoulder, his lips on my hair, as I snuggle into him. I imagine lifting my face to his, and that wide mouth hovering over mine, those dark eyes going hazy and out of focus as he gets closer.

My pussy clenches as I imagine the pressure of his lips thoroughly exploring mine, his thick tongue pushing into my mouth… and the next thing I know, I’m almost running a red light. I slam my foot on the brake and screech to a halt on the three-lane highway.

Fuck, I nearly got totaled while fantasizing about being kissed by a minotaur.

Pull yourself together, Sammy.

I drive more carefully after that, watching every traffic crossing, and trying not to daydream about the minotaur, nor think about the fact that I am jobless and soon-to-be broke. My head is likely to go into a weird place if I dwell on any of those things.

But when I draw up outside my apartment and get wearily out of my car, my mood takes a dive.

I live in the least salubrious part of Sparkle, Garnet Gardens.

Everything here is named after precious gems of ancient days—emeralds, diamonds and all.

But this side of town only gets named after semi-precious stones.

And while the buildings are still white, the yards orderly, it’s lacking in vibrancy and charm.

Garnet Gardens is Sparkle on a budget. The fittings are cheap, there’s no plush entry to the building, just a stairwell, and I’m on the 6 th floor with no elevator.

I trudge my way up to my tiny one-bedroom apartment and let myself in.

Once in the kitchen, I head straight for the pantry, take out a loaf of sliced bread and a jar each of peanut butter and jelly, and start slathering them onto the bread.

I squash the two pieces of bread together until the insides ooze out, and dive in.

I’ve taken three big bites before I realize what I’m doing.

Eating to stop myself feeling.

I freeze, the sandwich in mid-air. The minotaur’s admiring eyes float in front of me again.

He liked you the way you are.

I don’t know how I sensed that, but I did.

He thought you were beautiful.

Nope. That’s too hard to swallow.

“Don’t be stupid,” I mutter. Stuffing the sandwich into my mouth, I chomp angrily.

I don’t let myself think until I’ve devoured the whole thing. But as I reach to make another, my hand stills. I brush the crumbs off my chest.

He liked your tits.

I frown at the thought, lick my lips. Then I take a deep breath and allow myself to appraise my situation without numbing out.

I have pretty much no chance of getting another job anytime soon, not after what I did.

Ronald DeVine may smile benignly from billboards all over the city, but word is, in reality he’s a prick of a guy.

He won’t stand by and have the DeVine name humiliated.

And then there’s the small issue of how to fess up to Mom and Dad.

Hopefully they’ll be too busy playing golf and drinking cocktails with their retired friends on Paradise Beach to read the papers and discover how their one and only daughter has sullied the Buggins name.

I’ll probably have to move into a shared dwelling, and there will be no coin left over for the entertainment that makes living in Sparkle a Festival of Pleasure —another idea that the billboards everywhere keep selling us.

What do you do if you can’t afford to party?

I could worry myself into eating the whole freaking loaf if I dwell on that.

Or I could try and find out more about the minotaur.

But how?

I rack my brains. The library? The municipal offices? They will be closed now.

Guess I’ll have all the time in the world tomorrow to investigate.

But investigate what exactly? Portal capes and monster appearances?

As if I’d find anything. Historical records are not available to ordinary citizens.

The Sparkle mantra is Live for NOW . It’s an endless cycle of hedonism, partying, clubbing, attending movies and events.

I guess the authorities don’t want thousands of folks stuck under a dome to get uppity.

Makes sense. Because since getting sacked from DeVines and meeting the minotaur, I’m feeling decidedly uppity.

A buzz on the doorbell breaks through my thoughts. I go over to the intercom and press the button. The crackly voice on the other end is Clem’s.

“Hey, girlfriend. I bring food, wine and tissues.”

I laugh, press the entry button, and go to open my front door.

In another minute, Clem has breezed in, barely breathless from climbing the stairs. She dumps a bag of take-out and a bottle of cheap plonk onto the counter. I’m not hungry anymore, but I don’t dare tell her I’ve just stuffed a peanut butter jelly sandwich down my throat .

“How are you feeling?” Clem asks as she briskly plates up the food.