I stumbled out of bed like a hungover zombie in desperate need of caffeine and a strategy for dealing with my life, which had officially gone off-book. Elly was still curled in my sheets like a smug cat who’d claimed a new perch, hair tousled and shining in the morning light, eyes too alert for someone who definitely didn’t sleep that much. Meanwhile, I looked like a man who’d lost a bar fight to his own blanket.

  She stretched lazily, blinking at me with star-spark eyes and a grin that said I slept in your bed and didn’t even have to sneak in. “Well, look at you. I didn’t think you’d have the energy to be upright this morning after everything.”

  I groaned. “Please. No commentary. It’s too early.”

  She smirked. “Oh, Daniel. I don’t need commentary. I have evidence.”

  I squinted at her, groaning. “It’s not even 9 a.m., and you’re already this smug?”

  “I’m this smug by 5, and I’d miss your sulking if you slept in,” she teased, sitting up and stealing the pillow I’d abandoned.

  I shuffled toward the kitchen, mind foggy. Coffee. Maybe toast. Possibly burn down my apartment and start a new life as someone less cursed. “This is absolutely not happening,” I said, dragging myself toward the kitchen. Coffee. Now. I opened the fridge and winced at the horror within—half a lemon, expired hummus, and a jar of pickles that might be sentient.

  I hadn’t even made it to the machine when I heard her voice behind me, casual but deliberate: “I called them, by the way.”

  I punched a couple buttons and turned back toward my room, confused. “Called who?”

  Elly yawned, stretching her arms over her head. “The others. Euryale. Lily. Greek time-stopper and hungry redhead? I reached out to them yesterday after the incident.”

  I blinked at her. “You what?”

  Elly rolled off the bed, already pulling her hair into a messy bun like she did this every day. “You’re in the middle of a supernatural mess you don’t understand. You needed backup. Supernatural backup.”

  “Wait, supernatural?”

  Elly rolled her eyes. “The blonde stops traffic, Daniel, literally. The redhead can make people a block away want her. It’s obvious.”

  She had a point. ““I thought you didn’t want me involved with them in any way?”

  “I didn’t. Not until I checked them out.” She reached for her phone and wiggled her fingers in the air without touching it. The screen lit up, notifications swiping past. “Ran them through Elfnet. Background, magical footprint, threat assessments. Even used a mirror reader and consulted three minor spirits.”

  I blinked. “That’s a thing?”

  “Everything’s a thing,” she said breezily. “And guess what? They passed.”

  “You screened them like some kind of paranormal HR manager?”

  “I’m Fae,” she said, plucking a mug from my cabinet. “And I’m good at reading people. I’ve been watching Euryale for months. Subtle, elegant, not prone to violence. As for Lily? She could’ve drained you dry the night you met, and you would’ve never tasted those garlic rolls. But she didn’t. She’s trying to change. Also,” she added, pouring herself the last of my milk, “she’s ridiculously bad at lying. You’re basically dating three women who want to protect you but have no idea how not to make it weird.”

  “I’m not dating—!”

  “You basically will be, minus the fringe benefits,” she said with annoying confidence, just as a knock echoed from the front door.

  One sharp rap. Three soft taps.

  My stomach dropped. No. No way.

  Elly smirked behind her mug. “Right on time.”

  “I swear, if this is a fae Amazon delivery, I’m unplugging the wi-fi…”

  “I set this up,” she said, sipping from her mug like some kind of hospitality demon.

  I reached the door slowly, still in sleep shorts and my faded sci-fi convention sleep shirt. I popped the security chain.

  And there she was.

  If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

  Euryale. Sunglasses indoors, silk blouse tailored to perfection, her every movement oozing grace and just a touch of high-maintenance menace. She breezed in like she owned the air, carrying a tray of miniature quiches and a bottle of green juice that probably cost more than my weekly groceries.

  “Morning, boys,” she said, setting the tray down with ceremonial flair. “I brought protein. And antioxidants. I even filtered out iron trace elements, just for you, Elly. You’re welcome.”

  I just blinked. “How do you know where I live?”

  She adjusted her sunglasses like I was the one being ridiculous. “You don’t use a VPN, Daniel. Also, your address was in your work file. Honestly, I expected you to ask that sooner.”

  I turned to Elly with an accusing look. “You knew she was coming.”

  Elly shrugged. “I told her to come.”

  I cleared my throat. “Okay, let’s back up. What the hell is going on? Why is she here?”

  “Relax.” She leaned on the doorframe. “I vetted her.”

  Euryale beamed. “She did. Quite thoroughly.”

  “Elly ran me through Elfnet,” Euryale said, peeling off her sunglasses. “It’s all perfectly good.”

  “I still thought you were joking about that. It’s a real thing?”

  Euryale nodded matter-of-factly. “It’s like the dark web for fae and other Alterkind. Think LinkedIn meets the DMV meets... high school rumor mills. But faster.”

  “I still don’t understand why either of you are acting like this is normal.”

  “Because it is,” Elly and Euryale said in unison. Then glared at each other.

  Before I could respond, the doorbell rang again.

  “Wait,” I said, holding up a hand, ignoring the door. “You’re telling me there’s a supernatural background check system?” I was still stuck on this point.

  Lily’s familiar voice chimed in from behind the door. “Oh, there’s also a supernatural dating app.”

  I nearly choked. “You’re kidding.”

  Elly was already at the door, throwing it open with her trademark sass and too much energy for anyone this early in the morning.

  And there she was.

  The redhead. Lily. Dressed like temptation in a sundress and a leather jacket, her hair wild and windblown like she’d just stepped off a photo shoot. Her blouse was unbuttoned just enough to scream don’t trust me, and her expression was equal parts amused and amused-er.

  “Hello, Danny,” she purred. “I see I’ve caught you at a bad time... or a very good one.”

  They all exchanged a look.

  “The first rule of the app,” Euryale said solemnly, giving Lily a reproachful look, “is that we don’t talk about it with outsiders.”

  Elly added sagely, “Second rule: Always assume someone’s glamoured.”

  Lily stepped through the doorway, smelling like sin and cinnamon. “Third rule…” She leaned in, lips brushing my ear, and whispered something that involved the words binding agreement, seven-minute soulshare, and tailplay that made my ears go red and my knees lock.

  Elly threw the door closed, blinking as it popped back open… “Lily!” She hissed, shutting the door properly. “Boundaries, girl!”

  “Boundaries… Safewords… Danny asked.”

  “I did not ask!” I protested.

  “You were curious.” She winked. “That’s what counts.”

  I held my hands up, declaring my innocence. “Stop making me sound like I downloaded supernatural Tinder!”

  “You mean Spellr?” Lily suggested with a wink.

  Euryale shook her head disapprovingly, and Elly groaned. “I’m moving to another plane.”

  By this point, I was too tired to resist and just sipped from my coffee mug, even though it tasted like dishwater.

  Elly, arms crossed, turned to Lily. “You’re late.”

  Lily blinked, surprised. “Excuse me?”

  “I sent you the address last night. You said you were coming at eight.”

  “I didn’t specify A.M. or P.M.” She shrugged.

  Euryale raised her eyebrows. “Oh? She got an invite last night? I thought you were keeping Dan for yourself?”

  Elly rolled her eyes. “I told you—I cleared her. You’re not the only one who passed inspection.”

  I stood there with my mouth slightly open, a man caught in the hurricane eye of three very confident, very attractive women who all had opinions about my well-being.

  Lily stepped further inside, brushing past Elly with the kind of friction that might start fires. She shot Euryale a sidelong look. “Still hiding behind those sunglasses, Medusa-lite?”

  Euryale smiled coolly. “Still dressing like a street magician?”

  “Ladies,” Elly warned. “Don’t make me put you both in time-out.”

  And then the doorbell rang again.

  Everyone paused.

  Even Lily looked confused. “You didn’t invite anyone else, did you?”

  I held up both hands. “I swear. I don’t know anyone else.”

  I opened the door.

  Greg stood there.

  Greg Thompson. My supervisor. The man who once docked me a half-day’s pay for using too many printer sheets.

  He took one look inside my apartment and nearly fainted. His gaze jumped from Elly (star pupils, hoodie, obvious bedroom hair), to Euryale (unreasonably elegant), to Lily (pure chaos in a redhead body), and then back to me.

  “I, uh, I… needed to… drop off…” He held up a folder. His hand was trembling. “Performance review. Paperwork. Early. Work-from-home Request form…”

  I took it from him silently, already regretting being born.

  Greg lingered for a moment longer, eyes unfocused, pupils dilated, mouth slightly ajar. “I didn’t know you were… so…” he began.

  “Social?” Lily offered with a grin.

  “Doomed,” Elly muttered.

  “Legendary,” Euryale corrected.

  He blinked again. “Yes, social. I didn’t realize that you’re so very...social, Mercer.”

  Lily purred from the background. “Oh, he’s very popular. Aren’t you, Danny?”

  Greg turned a deep shade of beet. “I—I have to go.”

  Greg made a sound that may have been a whimper and then fled. Not walked. He fled like I was harboring a succubus—which, to be fair, I was—and practically sprinted down the hallway.

  As the door shut behind him, silence settled across the room.

  Then Lily giggled. “He’s definitely reporting you to HR.”

  Elly dropped onto the couch and threw a pillow over her face. “I’m going to kill all of you. Just so you know.”

  I stood in the middle of it all, hands full of quiche and performance review papers, brain officially fried.

  “Someone said breakfast?” I wondered aloud, weakly.

  I muttered something unkind and sank into the couch next to Elly, who immediately handed me a scone.

  “It’s blueberry,” she said without looking. “Your favorite.”

  I blinked. “How did you—”

  “Elfnet.”

  “Of course.”

  “It’s a thing…” She whispered.