I sit upright, my palms scraping across coarse rock. Darkness waits in all directions. It’s not scary. This is the heavy darkness of the forest on a moonless night, and I’ve gone camping in the woods around Ferndale Falls enough times to not be worried.

Only, it’s a full moon tonight. Dad circled it on the bookstore calendar, just as he’s done for my entire life—a habit picked up from Nana. “You should always be aware of the moon, peanut,” he always says, echoing her words.

So why can’t I see the moon? There’s nowhere on Earth it won’t be visible tonight with clear skies such as these. I crane my neck, checking all of the sky, puzzled all over again, because none of the stars form familiar constellations.

That’s when I realize how amazingly quiet it is. There’s nothing but the whisper of wind through branches and the occasional scurry of something small moving through underbrush. The scent of pine fills the air, but pine dialed up to eleven, as if everything I’ve smelled in the past was an imitation, and this is finally the real thing.

A flash of movement catches my eye, and I turn my head. Tiny dots of blue light zigzag in the distance, disappearing and reappearing as they pass behind what must be tree trunks. A new type of firefly, maybe?

Warmth tingles through me, and the crystal on my necklace lights up. Then more points of light start to glow in the stone I sit on. I lean over, squinting at the closest. It’s a crystal, hexagonal like my pendant, half embedded in the rock. When I touch it, a zip of electricity shoots through me, but it doesn’t hurt. Instead, it energizes me. I feel like I can… I can…

My hand reaches out, grasping for something I can’t yet define.

The lights around me dim as my necklace also darkens. The energy running through me fades, and I mourn the loss.

“Come on, Naomi,” I whisper. “How can you miss something if you don’t even know what it is?”

Logic aside, it’s nonetheless true.

I freaking ache for something I can’t even name.

Day finally comes after a restless half sleep, the bright chirping of birds filling the air.

It cooled off in the night, and I roll up to sitting, rubbing warmth into my bare arms. My sexy dress looks great, but I never imagined freaking roughing it while wearing it.

Time to figure out where I am so I can get home. I hop to my feet, my heels clicking on the gray rock.

“Whoa.” Forest spreads out all around, exactly as I expected. But what I didn’t expect is that I’m pretty high up.

I peek over the edge of the stone, and the ground is way, way below me. Too far. I’m not exactly the best with heights. “God, I want to be on the ground.”

My crystal necklace warms on my chest. Blink. I’m standing on the moss-covered ground, the pillar of rock rising above me. From down here, the heavy forest blocks my view of anything but the closest pines.

“What. The. Actual. Fuck?” Did I just… what’s the word? Did I justteleport?

I look up. As scary as it was to be so high, at least I had a better view, more of a chance to figure out where I am.

As soon as I think it, my crystal flashes. I’m there, standing on top of the pillar again.

“Shit!” My arms pinwheel as I try to catch my balance, my heart pounding like a drum in my ears. As soon as I stabilize, I stand completely still, not daring to move.

“Think, think, think, Naomi,” I mutter. “You read paranormal romance. You got this.”

I’m not turning into an animal or craving blood, so shifters and vampires are out. But all of this does feel like magic. What if I’m a witch? That would be amazing, if I knewhowto be a witch. All the different books have different rules. I need a mentor or a coven or something.

Instead, I’m stuck in the middle of nowhere, completely alone, with nothing but a distant flock of birds in sight.

“This isnotwhat I meant when I said I wanted to see new places.”

Instead of scaring off the birds, my voice seems to attract them. They cry out, rough caws filling the air, and wheel around to fly toward me, their movements eerily synchronized.

As they get closer, their bodies are no longer a solid shadow against the lighter sky. Inky-black feathers cover them, but their eyes, beaks, and claws are bright splashes of blood red.

Again, moving as one, they dive toward me, clawed feet extended, beaks open on terrifying screeches.

I throw up my arms to protect my face, and pain flares in my forearms. The damned things bit me!

“Oh, hell no!”