Natalia

It’s difficult to pass through the crowd with so many guests clamoring for my attention. Hands grab at me and pull me into hugs, and guys with cups in their hands try to stop me to chat. But after a moment of polite evasion, I manage to break through to the tree line and follow in the direction I saw Ashlyn go.

The canopy of trees shields nearly every fleck of light from the forest floor, and as I step away from the bonfire, I’m immediately enveloped in darkness.

I can hardly see my own feet in front of me, but it’s no big deal.

There’s a reason everyone calls me Nat the Bat, after all.

For as long as I can remember, my senses have been…heightened in the darkness. I was never frightened of the bogeyman as a child. I never needed a nightlight to sleep, and I was particularly good at finding my way through the dark.

Even now, as I pass through the jet black of the deep, dense forest, I feel more awake than ever. I can smell the rich, pungent smell of moss and wet soil, hear the crooning of owls some distance away. I tread the pine-needled floor lightly, my steps soft on the spongy ground. My eyes adjust quickly to the dark, and the amorphous blobs that were once trees become much more defined. Their edges sharpen and their colors deepen, and I can see clearly where to step on their strong roots to avoid slippery moss.

I feel at home here. Weirdly enough.

I’ve always felt at home in the dark. In the depths of the forest, where nature opens up to me and speaks in whispers. I’d told Ashlyn once before that if it wasn’t for my addiction to fast food and coffee chains, I’d run way to the forest one day and never look back.

Ashlyn.

My chest is beginning to squeeze with anticipation. Where did she go?

Then I hear her giggle. I know it’s Ashlyn; I can pick out her laugh from a crowd of a million.

Then, a low murmur accompanies it.

I follow the sound, careful where I tread. Maybe I am overreacting, like Ash said. God, she’ll kill me if I interrupt her hot date for no good reason. But I just want to check.

I just have this weird gut feeling. I need to know that she’s okay.

I move silently toward the sound of her voice, peeking around the trunk of a wide tree. The moment the shape of her comes into view, Ashlyn is collapsing into the stranger’s arms.

It doesn’t look like a voluntary fall. Something’s wrong.

I burst from the trees, grabbing a broken stick from the ground. It’s not pointed or dangerous by any means, but it’s all I can find. “Let her go!”

The stranger glances up, trying to balance Ashlyn’s limp body against his chest. His handsome face, which once looked so calm and controlled, is now edged with danger. “Go back to the party,” he demands. Even his voice sounds different now. It’s low and gravelly, grating with threat.

“I’m not going anywhere without my friend,” I reply. Realizing the stick is completely useless, I reach down into the side of my Doc Martin, pulling my trusted switch blade from the leather.

I started carrying it on me in case some creep tried to follow me home from the bar. I never thought I’d face a situation where I’d have to use it. Especially one like this.

Brandishing the knife in what little moonlight seeps through the trees, I move closer. Ripples of shadow move over my skin, the steely blade glowing silver in the darkness.

“You’re not taking her anywhere. Put her down and leave!”

The man doesn’t flinch. In fact, he doesn’t look the least bit concerned about the blade. A white crescent grin splits his face, and he laughs, muttering in that deep, raspy voice, “I don’t have time for a stupid human girl.”

Human?

“What the hell are you talking about?” I ask, waving the blade a little more. “What do you mean by human?”

The man lets out a loud sigh signaling his annoyance. He sets Ashlyn down and straightens up, his broad shape undefinable. He’s suddenly nothing more than a tall, dark silhouette in the darkness.

Then he lifts a hand and crooks a finger in my direction. “You’re wasting my time. If you won’t leave, I’ll just have to take you both.”