Fae

Eva searched the wind-swept woods, but there was nowhere to run.

Nowhere to hide.

Nothing to use to defend herself.

And no one to come to her aide.

She clenched her hands at her sides and waited for the master.

The owl glanced toward the sky as a massive shadow passed over them. Whatever cast the shadow flew more silently than a bat, but was the size of a Boeing 747.

Eva shivered, but it wasn’t from cold.

“Too late. Master has already sensed you.” Eva cursed herself. Of course it could worse. It could always get worse.

“I am the least of your worries,” the owl assured her.

But Eva wasn’t convinced.

Seriously, what could be worse than seeing and hearing things that weren’t there? Had she completely lost her mind?

Eva pinched herself, but she was still in the strange clearing, and the bird was still there, still staring at her.

Fear surged back through her, and Eva’s fingers felt colder than a Michigan lake in February.

“I’m losing it,” she muttered.

Eva blinked as she turned to face a great-horned owl perched in a branch above her.

She shook her head.

Was she going mad?

“You are not supposed to be here,” a strange voice called through the trees.

Eva spun around, but she saw no one. “Who are you? Where am I?”

“Who am I? Better question is, ‘Who are you?’”