Iswitched on the lights to my apartment. The first thing next to the door
was a photograph of Max and me. We'd taken a selfie after enjoying a
turkey leg at Disney World last year. We'd spent a whole year saving
for that trip. I'd wanted to go to Vegas, but Max got his way in the end. I
always had to compromise for him.
The stupid things girls did for love.
I sighed and slumped onto the couch. I glanced at the clock. It was
already two in the morning. I'd delayed heading home, and for good reason.
It was lonelier back here, without passersby to distract me. The silence
suffocated me, so I turned on the television and let some cooking show that
didn't matter play. Max and I were supposed to watch the next episode of
Superhero High together. I guessed that was not going to happen now.
I hadn't finished the beer that Hansel gave me. I popped it open and
brought the Heineken to my mouth. I'd always hated beer—it tasted bitter
—but maybe it'd help me sleep. Sipping the beer made it impossible for me
to stop thinking about Hansel. I was drawn to him, but which girl wouldn't
be?
I felt my phone vibrating in my pocket. I'd put it on silent earlier.
Glancing at the screen, I saw thirty missed calls. All from Max. He was
probably freaking out about the video that I'd taken down earlier. I didn't
post it, but videoing him did the job of scaring him. I doubted he was
actually concerned about me. The red flags had all been there since the
beginning of the relationship. Lydia, my foster mother, had told me he
seemed like a player, but I ignored her because I wanted to believe love
could happen to me. He was hot. That was probably what blinded me in the first place. Golden hair, blue eyes. He looked like the typical prince even
though he refused to get a proper job. He was too busy pursuing his dreams.
No use moping about it.
I downed the beer in one gulp, which was probably a bad idea, then
strode to my room. Tomorrow morning, I was going to suffer both a
heartbreak and a real hangover.
I'd stayed in this town because of Max. He'd wanted to start a business
with his sister selling graphic tees, and he thought his designs would sync
with the locals here more. I'd always wanted to go to New York to pursue
music. Maybe I should go to New York. Being single was great. I could do
what I want, hang with whomever I wished. I got to make my own
decisions as a grown-ass woman. I pulled open my wardrobe and began
dragging clothes out. I had a shit-ton of clothes, which Max always
complained about. Now, there wasn't anybody to complain about them
anymore.
Freedom tasted sweeter than cake.
A whooshing sound interrupted my attempt at cheering myself up. My
window flew open. A huge gust of wind blew the curtains inward, and the
clothes I'd left over the bed were tossed in all directions. Fear sputtered
through me, and I reached for the nearest weapon—a hanger. A hanger?
What was a hanger going to do against the wind?
"Hello?" I asked. I rolled my eyes at myself. How original. I was being
thrown straight into a horror movie and that was the first thing I could come
up with? I held the hanger out in front of me and inched closer to the
window. "Is this a prank? TV show? If you intend to put me on some gag
reel then you should know that I don't fall for things—"
I screamed and almost tripped over myself when somebody tapped me
on my shoulder. I swatted the intruder with the hanger. Unsurprisingly, it
did little to hurt my assailant. When my attacker came into the picture more
clearly, I thought I might die.
He had horns and a goat's face.
I wanted to scream again, but that sight was so horrific that I froze on
the spot, not even managing a light whimper. At first, I thought the assailant
might be wearing a mask. But then the creature's mouth moved in a too-
realistic manner. Spittle landed on my cheeks when it said, "Caramel
Valencia. Your days as a human are over."
"Over?" I squeaked. "Are you going to kill me?"
"No," it responded matter-of-factly. "I am a brightling, meant to escort
you. You are to be brought to the Sanctuary."
"Is that where they put all the dead bodies?" My fingers quivered.
"Does Santa hate me? Was I too naughty last Christmas?"
"I do not know this Santa you speak of, but the Sanctuary is where the
goddesses are sent to. It exists in the realm of Haven. There are many who
await you there."
"Goddesses?" This had to be some sort of trick. I finally found the
courage to move and used the hanger to hit the goat man again. He caught
my wrist. I attempted to struggle out of his grasp, but his grip was insanely
strong, and if I struggled any harder, I might break my own arm.
"Please don't struggle," he said. "It makes transporting you more
difficult."
"Leave me alone!" I lifted my leg and kneed his thigh, missing his groin
by a fraction of an inch.
I'd failed to hurt the creature with my weak-ass kung fu moves. The
brightling narrowed its beady, goatlike eyes at me. I couldn't even get a
proper look at its pupils because its eyes were pointed at different
directions. "Note that the councilors in the academy don't take well to
disobedience. I have no right to punish you, but I think you deserve a fair
warning."
I was gathering a healthy amount of spit in my mouth, ready to use it
against the creature, when the wind swirled about us. I felt my body
disintegrating and pulling away into the surrounding air.
"Transferring between realms is an uncomfortable sensation," the
creature said. "It is the strangest the first time, but trust me, you'll get used
to it."
"Trust you?" I asked. "You're a goat man who looks like he eats babies
for breakfast."
"I do not eat babies for breakfast."
"I didn't mean it that—"
"Enough. We have to return to the Sanctuary soon. It is not good for
brightlings to be wandering the human world for too long."
The brightling took out a wand and made a swishing motion with it.
A wand? Was this goat man a wizard, too? This had to be a dream.
Glitter and sparkles snapped through my vision, and the magic the
brightling used tugged me away from me room, transferring me into an unknown, foreign realm.