She's waking up," someone whispers beside my

bed. "Everyone, play it cool."

I rub my eyes with my knuckles and yawn, peering out. I don't

have my glasses on and everything looks like a blur. My

head's pounding and fuzzy, and I can't think straight, but I'm

pretty sure there aren't supposed to be people in my bedroom.

"Nessa?" I call out sleepily to my roommate. "Why are you

in my room?"

It's quiet for a long moment.

"Is Ne-sir in one of the other pods?" someone asks. It's a

man with a deep voice and a strange accent.

"I don't know," the woman says again, impatient. "Do I look

like a motherfucking pod whisperer? I know just as much as

you do." A hand reaches out and grabs mine, squeezing it. Oh

god, it feels burning hot—either that or I'm really cold.

Actually, come to think of it, it is really cold in my room. My

toes are freezing. I curl them automatically and wonder why I

don't have any blankets.

"Honey, listen carefully," the woman tells me. She leans in

closer and I see it's a blonde woman in a parka, her eyes a

vivid, glowing green. She's pretty, in an athletic, weathered,

spends-too-much-time-outdoors sort of way. I don't know

anyone like that. My people are more library people. Must be

one of Nessa's jogging friends. She squeezes my hand

again. "I don't want you to be alarmed, all right? You're safe

here. We're the good guys."

"Where's Nessa? How come she let you in my room?" I

frown, trying to pull my hand away from the woman. "Did you

turn down the heat?"

"I think she's still groggy," another woman says in a quiet

voice. "Should we have her drink something?"

The blonde woman moves away and turns into a blur. I can't

see farther than a few feet ahead of me without my glasses,

and everything else seems to be moving back out of range.

There's a lot of black moving at the edges of my vision, and I

squint, but nothing comes into sight. Annoyed, I lean over the

edge of my bed and fumble for my glasses on the nightstand—

Except there's no nightstand. Or glasses.

And when I roll over, I realize I'm not in bed. My face

smushes up against something that feels like a wall, and I

realize about two seconds later that I'm naked.

Is…this one of those bad dreams where you're naked at the

mall? Or in class? I squeeze my eyes shut again, trying to re-route my dream. Happy thoughts, Lo. Think happy thoughts.

Except, my dream doesn't seem to be changing. I cautiously

open one eye again and a blurry black face—and horns? Are

those horns?—looms into view. "Is she well?"

I bite back a scream, shrinking down against my bed. I push

back only to feel my shoulder on the opposite side hit a wall,

too. Two narrow walls and I'm naked… Am I in a coffin?

"Am I dead?" I cry out, horrified. I squint at the big black-horned face. "Oh my god, are you devils? Am I in hell?"

"Only if it's frozen over," says the blonde. "Yuk, yuk."

"Zoe," scolds the other woman. "Be nice." A new face looms

into view, and I can just barely make out a pale face and

carroty red hair and another pair of crazy-red eyes. A soft,

furry blanket is handed to me. "Wrap up in this. I'm Theodora.

Don't be alarmed. We're the good guys. I promise."

Good guys? Does that mean there are bad guys? "W-where am

I? Why am I naked?"

The blonde bites down on her knuckle. "So. Many. Jokes. I

can't. I just can't, though."

"You're safe," the redhead says again.

"Maybe we should have planned a speech," the blonde

continues. "Like, Smurf you very much, welcome to our

village!"

"Zoe!"

"I couldn't help it!"

"What?" I whisper. I press a hand to my throbbing forehead.

Am I…high? Roofied? I am way too confused.

"Zoe is just making things worse," the redhead says and moves

closer to my side. She looms in and her face is pale and

freckled but friendly. She, too, looks a little weathered and

she's also wearing a furry parka. "Okay. You're not at home,

um…what did you say your name was again?"

"Maylissa," I tell her. "But everyone calls me May. Have you seen

my glasses?"

"Hi, May. I'm Theodora. This is Zoe." She points at the blonde

blur at her side. "And I hate to break it to you, but you've been

kidnapped by dragons."

"Um, Dragons?" I squint. Now I'm wondering if they're the ones

that are high.

"Not these dragons," Harlow reassures me quickly, waving a

hand. Another black form shifts in the background and

someone walks—oh god, those black things are people? Really,

really big people? With horns? I'm not dreaming that? "We're

the rescue team."

"The good guys," Liz chirps. "Welcome to your new home.