Free Alien Fae Mate by Misty Kayn Page B

here. Why aren’t you here?”
    “Well, I called your Human Resources this morning—”
    “I haven’t heard anything. What’s going on? Are you ill?”
    “I quit.”
    A pause. “Quit what?”
    “My job. I’m not working for the fae people anymore.”
    “You never worked for the fae, you worked for me.”
    Tears gathered in my eyes, and I inhaled deeply, then held my breath. I didn’t want my voice to quiver. “Technically, I worked for the fae people and not—”
    “I think I deserve a call or even two weeks’ notice.” I said nothing, because he was right. I should’ve told him. ”It doesn’t matter,” he continued, “I don’t have anyone to fill your position. Come to work within an hour.”
    “I’m not coming in.”
    “You’re coming in.”
    “I can’t.”
    “Don’t do this. I’ll stay away. Or if you want me around, I’ll be here. What do you want me to do, hm? I’ll do it.”
    “I want to mate,” I said. “I don’t want to settle for less. I’ll always want it, so I don’t see a point in settling.”
    “We’ll get through today, and it’ll be over. Come on in.”
    And that was the problem. I didn’t want to get through today. I wanted today to be the best day of my life. “All right.”
    “One hour.”
    “Sure thing.”
    I could never tell him no. I’d tried.

Fifteen
    A t sundown , Apple and I finished a movie, a tragic romance in which the couple didn’t end up together. We sobbed. Each and every time we’d watched it. 
    “We should watch cartoons next,” she said and fluffed up our pillow.
    “The Road Runner,” I said. “Beep, beep.”
    “Yeah.” She sighed. “Morbid and depressing, coyote never gets the bird. Dies every time.” 
    “Never learns.”
    Headlights brushed over the movie credits on the screen. Neither of us moved. “Cross is having a party again,” Apple said. “You think we should start charging for our parking spaces?”
    “Mm-hm.” My eyes were closing. “Income.”
    Apple nudged my side.
    “Mmm.”
    “Wake up.”
    “I’ll sleep on the couch.”
    “Wake up.”
    “No.”
    “There’re spaceships in the front yard.”
    I snapped my eyes open. “What?”
    Apple was already at the window, and I hurried after her.
    Twenty satellite ships hovered in the sky. From under their bellies, multiple small lights shone on our entire neighborhood. Small doors glided open, and fae, one by one, jumped to the ground. It was about a four-hundred-foot fall. 
    “It’s raining fae,” Apple said. 
    “Hallelujah,” I whispered. “At sundown.”
    “There’s your man.” She tapped the glass.
    Titan stood on his balcony. The very same balcony of his suite. How was this possible? He lived on a huge ship. I tilted my head, paying attention to the architecture. Oh! His suite was a small ship that fit into the mother ship, sort of like a drawer fit in the dresser with all the other drawers. From the outside, the mother ship looked like one piece, but in fact, it was a complex structure of many smaller ships. “It’s brilliant,” I said.
    “What is?”
    “His ship.”
    “You are the only human who is looking at his ship,” Apple said. “And you think I’m weird.”
    Titan ripped his shirt to reveal his chest. The people at the party next door whistled. Phone cameras flashed. 
    He jumped on the balcony’s railing and ripped his pants off. He threw them, and they fluttered to the ground. Arms spread out, he crouched and bellowed, “Raaaainnnn!”
    When he thumped his chest, my girly bits fluttered.
    “Now that’s a mating call,” Apple said. “He’s like a rooster fluffing up his feathers. I think I need a fae man.” Her eyes scouted the ground, and she pointed. “That one. That one’s gonna make my pains go away. Let’s go.” She tugged my hand, and we stepped outside, where Dohan approached, eyeing my sister. “Hi there,” he said.
    “He’s here for me,” I whispered.
    Dohan stopped ogling Apple long enough to say,