Page 32 of Enticing Monsters

My own, for all I know.

Did my parents live here? Did they leave me behind on purpose? Do I have aunts, uncles, grandparents? Anyone who is mourning the child they thought they lost?

Tears build in the corners of my eyes, and my breath catches in my chest as my vision wavers slightly, pain flaring through my muscles as they tighten. My knees wobble in time with the black and gray sparks dancing at the corner of my vision, nearly sending me to the ground, but I lock them in place.

No, no, no.

I will not have a seizure here. I’m not going to lose this chance.

I press on the latch, and the door swings open silently, baring a dusty cottage full of heavily carved furnishings.

“It’s like Snow White’s house,” I murmur, careful not to touch anything as we wander through.

The room is small but well laid out, and it has either been abandoned in a hurry or ransacked at some point, as some pieces of furniture are turned haphazardly and dishes and pieces of clothing are scattered here and there.

However, it’s not nearly as dilapidated as I would’ve suspected, considering that Faerie has been abandoned for hundreds, if not thousands, of years. The wood of the home hasn’t begun deteriorating yet.

Does time move differently in Faerie? Does a century on Earth equate to only a few minutes in this world? Or does the magic itself keep the buildings maintained, even when they’ve been abandoned?

I make a mental note to ask Xander about it—casually, of course. I don’t want him to know the true reason for my curiosity.

Nothing seems to be drawing my magic, though, and rather than sort through a long-dead stranger’s belongings, I wander back into the open air, Foster at my side.

“It doesn’t feel right.” I shrug, unable to explain it better than that when he arches a crimson brow at me. “I don’t know. It’s…”

How do I explain all of the feelings rampaging through me? That feeling of belonging that doesn’t have a specific location?

“It’s not surprising,” Foster murmurs, his fingers playing with the straps of his backpack and his gaze sharp as he watches around us. “I doubt this world is tiny, and the chances of us walking out of a portal neither of us actually knows how to set and landing in the correct place? I’d say it’s likely astronomical.”

Maybe. But a voice in the back of my head warns me we’re closer than we know.

A rustle makes both of us freeze, before a small “mew” precedes a kitten tumbling out of the tall sapphire grass. He goes head over tail, landing in a heap of white paws, his gray- and black-striped fur sticking up in places and his ears quivering as he tries to right himself.

“Someone left their cat? How is it still alive? Do animals just live longer on Faerie? It’s just a baby, though…”

His eyes are a tawny gold, and his little pink nose twitches as he scents the air. He cocks his head to the side as he studies us and lets out another plaintive “mew.”

The poor thing is probably afraid and starving.

Is he a stray? Does he have a mother?

“Here, kitty kitty,” I encourage, getting onto my knees on the hard stones, trying to imitate the “pspsps” sound I heard on television.

I’m a dog person and never owned a cat, so sue me. But I can’t in good conscience leave this cutie on his own. Who knows what could happen to him?

I keep making the ridiculous sound as the kitten watches me warily, inching forward with his nose twitching in the air. He’s only a finger’s length away from me now, his mewls evolving into plaintive chirps as he investigates me.

“Wouldn’t do that if I were you,” a deep voice calls out with a chuckle.

I shriek, tumbling backwards and hitting the ground with a thud, as movement in front of me steals my gaze.

V stands there, holding the kitten by the scruff of the neck, his glittery wings spread wide, fitting perfectly into the magical scenery.

“What. The. Fuck. Vagina!” I screech, pushing myself to my feet and dusting myself off. “How the hell are you here?”

He arches a brow at me. “You really think there’s anywhere someone can tell me I’m not allowed to go?”

“Considering I’ve found you in my bedroom, I’m going to say you suck at boundaries,” I snap. Foster chokes at my retort, glancing frantically between the pair of us. “Did you follow us? I thought we talked about the whole stalking thing. Stalking bad, remember?”

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