Prologue
Part ISonja Lunario, a six-year-old girl hopped out of her friend, Andrea’s family car being dropped off after spending the day with Andrea. She skipped down the walkway, and opened the door. Once she was inside, Andrea’s family drove away. “Mom! I’m Home!” Sonja called. There was no answer. Which was odd, seeing as her mother’s car was parked outside. “Mom?” The small girl called again. “Dad?” She asked, becoming worried. “Sophie?” She tried her twin sister’s name. No success.
Confused, Sonja walked into her living room. The sight waiting for her made her scream.
Her parents—Jace and Anna Lunario—were lying dead on the ground, their throats slit, and stab wounds in their chests. Her father had a weapon in his limp hand. He had gone down fighting.
Tears were gushing down her cheeks. She still saw no sign of Sophie. In a panic, she ran to the room she shared with Sophie, only to find her sister, apparently having suffered a similar fate.
Sonja’s call to 911 was frantic, and a mess of sobbing, hysterics, and the man on the other end telling her to calm down when she knew she couldn’t.
Later that week, Sonja was put into a foster home, because no living relatives could be contacted.
Part IISonja’s first foster home was one she stayed in for five years until the age of eleven. Even though the couple who owned the house were both very nice people, she hated it. There was another foster child there, with whom Sonja had to share a room. Her name was Olivia, and she never seemed to shut up. Even though previously, Sonja herself was quite a talker, Olivia rambled on and on, whining about things in a high-pitch annoying voice. She was not the sort of person Sonja would have liked to talk to, even when her life was normal.
She was moved on to another home, only because they family’s house was foreclosed, and had to move out of state.
Part IIISonja’s second foster home was a rather short two-year stay.
Her ‘parents’ were nice enough, if not a little panicky and strict, but it wasn’t a bad place.
But when she was Thirteen-and-a-half and home alone for the night, she accidentally set the kitchen on fire when trying to fix herself dinner. Her ‘mother’ was convinced the fire was set on purpose, and no one would allow a teenager they believed to be an arsonist stay in their house any longer.
Part IVSonja positively detested her third foster home. It was very small, and often didn’t smell great. And what was worse was the family’s son Jake. He was rude and sometimes violent to Sonja out of jealousy over his parents paying more attention to her than they did to their own son. One night, Jake tried to rape her, but her screaming for him to get off woke the family.
Needless to say, Sonja was no longer staying there.
Part VSonja’s fourth foster home was like sunshine in a shady place to her.
The couple—Jana and Wes—were both younger than the ‘parents’ of her previous foster families, and they adored Sonja. She was allowed to spend time with her friends, and they bought her nice clothes, and even birthday and Christmas gifts.
It was in this home she met her best friend. Her name was Erin Johnson. She was a slightly insane, flirty natural blonde with a dark sense of humor and a big heart, and the only person at their school who knew Sonja’s story of how her family had been murdered—said murder was still unsolved. No evidence was found at the crime scene and there weren’t any witnesses.
Chapter One – In Which Erin Has Many, Many Oxen in Her Bed
The eighteen-year-old Sonja Lunario was sitting in a coffee shop, with her dark hair pulled back in a ponytail and her Glasses that she rarely used were on, her laptop on the table in front of her and a tall mocha beside her. She was trying to get her essay done quickly as possible, so she could relax for the rest of her weekend.
She had only three more paragraphs to go, when from behind her she heard someone say “Need a refill, ma’am?” Sonja nearly jumped a foot in the air, causing herself to both knock her mocha onto the floor, as well as bang her hand on the keyboard, causing some random letters to show up on the screen.
She turned, only to find one of the male employees standing behind her, looking slightly amused. “Well, now I do.” She said, irritably.
He grinned, looking smug. “It seems you also need a napkin. I’m not cleaning that up.”
Sonja glared at him. “Fine.” She said. In about twenty minutes, she hard a clean table and floor, and a new drink in front of her. She settled herself down, finished her essay, and then proceeded to check her email.
She had two spam mails as well as one from Erin about how she had recently dyed her hair pink. There was even an enclosed photo for evidence, and then one from Jana and Wes, wanting to see how she was.
It made her smile that they actually cared about her, and seemed to like her, which was something all the other foster families had seemed to lack. After she replied to her emails, she shut her laptop, grabbed her now half-empty new mocha, and stood up to leave, but noticed the annoying employee from earlier staring at her.
His dark brown eyes were fixed intently on her in a manner that made her feel uncomfortable. He was leaning on the counter, looking at her as if she were the only thing in the world.
He was tall, well-built, and had short brown hair, that went well with his tan skin. The black short-sleeve T-shirt with the shop logo on it was tight on him, yet he didn’t seem to care. He had an angular chin and high cheekbones. He was the type of guy girls drooled over in public along with constant flirting, and then giggled about with their friends in private.
Sonja knew the type. She wasn’t particularly impressed with them, either. Sure, they were often wealthy, and always handsome as hell, but they were often unintelligent and didn’t usually treat their girlfriends well.
He was the type of boy Erin might play with for short periods of time as a ‘boy-toy.’ Sonja smiled at the thought of her friend, teasing helpless, attractive boys and then tossing them aside and moving on like nothing had happened.
Sonja, in her brief six-month college life, now had much knowledge of boys like that. They saw her, targeted her, she rejected, they tried to charm, she remained unimpressed, and they moved on. Sonja knew why, of course, she was a popular target. She was tall and slender, with long legs, enough curves to seem interesting, the kind of chest women in California paid to have, a nose that—again—people in California paid to have, full lips, thick eyelashes, and hazel eyes with flecks of gold, violet and green that looked nice against her olive-toned skin and dark brown hair.
But even as she kept hoping the guy would look away, he didn’t. So she walked out the door. To her relief, he didn’t follow.
It was pretty outside. A January snow covered the ground and in the sunlight, it seemed to sparkle. She took her time walking back from the dorm, and once there, she saw her roommate, Theresa on the couch talking to a girl with... pink hair?
Both faces turned when she shut the door, and the girl with pink hair—Erin, unmistakably—ran and hugged her. “OMG! Hi! I haven’t seen you in
forever!” Erin said in that high voice she used when incredibly happy.
Sonja pulled back from her friend’s embrace, smiling. “I know! Why didn’t you tell me you were coming though?” She asked. If she’d known, she would’ve cleaned up the dorm... or bought decent food or something.
“I like surprising people. But hey, at least I told you I dyed my hair pink!” She said, and then looked her over. “Ugh. You look nerdy.”
“I was doing homework. Did you expect me to dress up for the occasion?” She rolled her eyes.
“Well... okay, yeah, true.” Erin admitted. “So, anything fun you wanna do tonight? I’m only here fore two days.” She asked.
“Er... I don’t know. I can’t remember if anything’s going on tonight.” Sonja looked to Theresa, hoping she was better connected than she was. Lately, she often forgot what month it was.
“Oh! Um... I think there’s a party at a frat house tonight.” Theresa put in, meaning well. But she seemed to have forgotten that Sonja didn’t often fare well at frat parties.
Unfortunately, Erin was sold on the idea.
For the next few hours, Sonja had to deal with her friend forcing her into a tight black dress and heels, her wavy hair being flat-ironed, eye-liner being applied as well as lip glass, and fake French-manicure nails. “There.” Erin said, looking satisfied. “Go look in a mirror.”
Not sure how she would look, Sonja walked—uneasily in the six-inch heels—to a mirror. Her normal academic nerdy-looking persona was gone. Her reflection in the mirror looked incredibly sexy, yet still classy. Which was perfect.
“I knew you’d like it.” Erin said smugly. “Now let’s go. It’s almost eleven.” Sonja allowed her friend—who was wearing a tight black spaghetti-strap top with a short pink skirt and strapped pink-and-black sandal high-heels—to drag her out the door to a frat house with loud music blaring, people yelling, and colorful lights.
Sonja was reluctant to go in, but with a little coaxing—and almost falling while going up the steps in her heels—went in. At first both girls stood there, talking about how things had been, how school was, and hot guys. Then a cute guy asked Erin to dance and she obliged happily.
Sonja kept to herself for a while until a guy approached her. Which wouldn’t’ve been bad, if she didn’t recognize him. He was the weird guy from the coffee shop who had been staring at her. And now, here he was, smiling at her like they were best buddies.
“Hey.” He said in a low, attractive voice.
“Hello.” Sonja said simply, barely even looking at him.
“Enjoying yourself?” He asked, barely audible over the music playing.
Even though she had to admit she was enjoying herself, she figured he’d leave her alone if she told him less. “What’s it matter to you?”
He rolled his eyes, but didn’t press it further. “What’s your name?”
“Sonja. Yours?”
“The name’s J.D.”
“Does that stand for anything?”
“It does,” J.D. nodded. “But I don’t feel inclined to tell you.” He said, smirking. Sonja just shrugged figuring it was something embarrassing... or hard to pronounce.
They talked for a while. As it turned out, they both liked the same bands for the most part, and both shared a guilty pleasure of watching the TV show
Saturday Night Live every week. There were several major differences, though. J.D. was a college dropout, whereas Sonja maintained a rather high grade point average. He didn’t share Sonja’s interest in some books, but that may be due to Gender, and males not usually being particularly interested in love stories...
It was in the midst of their conversation, that someone walking much to fast with a ridiculously full glass containing some sort of... purple liquid walked by, and it seemed as the drink tumbled from the partygoer’s hand, that, as if she were moving it by will, Sonja’s gaze seemed to levitate the cup, and turn it in a one-hundred-eighty degree angle before releasing it where it spilled all over its owner.
The now wet and sticky college kid seemed oblivious and just walked away. When Sonja looked back at J.D., he was looking at her like he knew what was going to happen. “You know how you did that?” He asked, calmly.
“I didn’t do anything. It was... some freaky twist of nature.”
“Yeah, and SNL is a serious, down-to-business show,” He said sarcastically. “There’s a whole other world out there. And Like it or not, you’re a part of it.”
“What are you talking about? Have you been drinking or something?” She backed a step away from him. Pity. She’d actually started to like him, but as it turns out, he’s... schizophrenic or something.
“Just... listen to me. Your pink-haired friend? She’s a werewolf. What killed your parents and your sister? Not a human. Oh, and there’s a reason your friend got you out of the house that day.” He said.
Sonja took two more steps back, but he took two forward. “How do you know all this?” She asked, shakily.
“I’ve known you since before you existed. I’ve just been forbidden to interfere directly.”
Before she was given the opportunity to be further creeped out, she was given salvation in the form of Erin stumbling over and clasping her shoulder as if she were going to fall over if she let go. “Don’t drink the punch.” She said in a weird voice. “It tastes funny.”
“... How much of it did you have?” Sonja was afraid of what her answer would be.
“Just—just the one glass... then the one that cute guy offered me... then the other one the other guys... maybe... five?”
Sonja groaned. “I’ll call a ca—”
“No! Don’t call the library! I have Oxen in my bed! Many, many oxen!”
“Yeah... I’m calling a cab.” Sonja pulled out her cell phone and called the campus cab service.
Once back at the dorm, Erin had calmed down a bit, but had a killer headache. Sonja still had chills, even as she lay in her bedroom, half-asleep. How had J.D. known all that stuff about her? Or her family.
She was going to get to the bottom of this.
Chapter Two – The Fey
After Erin seemed to have completely passed out on the couch, and Sonja had taken a shower, she sat on her bed. As she looked in a small mirror she saw the awful mess that was her hair.
She needed her hairbrush from across the room, but at the moment, was too lazy to get up and get it. And, on cue, the hairbrush flew to her. Sonja grabbed the levitating brush out of the air and looked at it.
If she could do that... what other things could she do?
“Clock,” she said, and the clock flew off the wall into her lap. A grin spread across her face. Whatever weird supernatural being she was, she was a weird supernatural being having fun.
After cleaning the room without ever getting up, having the brush fix her hair for her, making a powdered donut from the kitchen magically fly inter her room, and her pillow fluffing itself, Sonja was ready for bed.
Okay, sure, this was weird beyond belief. But it would make things so much easier.
Sonja had several photographs on the wall by her bed. One was of Erin, one of her and Erin together, one of Jana and Wes’s adorable Golden Retriever Izzy, one of her parents on the porch of their old house, and one of Sophie.
It was a custom of hers to talk to the pictures of her parents and of Sophie before she went to sleep, especially if something interesting happened.
“I miss you guys... Mom... Dad... Soph...” She sighed. “I’m a bit pissed you didn’t tell me I was freaking telekinetic though!” She chuckled. “Love you guys. Night.”
She rolled over, and fell asleep, getting the weirdest dream in the history of dreams.
A large, pink-furred, tailless wolf was running around the streets of New York. Next to it was a purple wolf, and a bluish green one, all howling at the half-moon that hung in the cloudless city sky.
They ran for what seemed like miles in a mere matter of minutes. They had run to a cave, from which intoxicating music was coming from. When the three wolves stepped inside, the interior of the cave came into view.
Colorful lights flashed, and lovely winged people with oddly-colored eyes danced, ate, drank, laughed and kissed. It was a party.
All three wolves shifted into a human form. The aqua wolf became a spiky, aqua haired, pale-faced, lanky boy, appearing to be in his late teens, with poor posture and wild eyes.
The Purple wolf became a small, slender girl of about the same age with purple, pixie-cute hair, matching her fur.
The pink one became a tall, medium-built girl with full lips, blue eyes and pink hair.
The trio made their way across the dance floor to a pair of winged people sitting on flowery, lavish thrones, covered in flowers. They bowed their heads before the boy stepped forward to speak.
“Lady Sofia, Lord Cillian, it is an honor to be in your presence,” he said humbly.
“Eentroduce yourselves, Dahleengs,” Sofia said with a strong foreign accent
“Michael Winchester, your majesties.” He said bowing his head slightly. The pink-haired one rolled her eyes at Winchester’s insufferable kissing up.
“Erin Johnson,” Said the girl with the bright pink hair.
“Josephine Fairchild,” Said the pixie-cut purple one.
“Why do you come to us? I do believe this event was invite-only.” Cillian—a tall, blonde muscular faerie with black-tinted wings—said. His grey eyes were uninterested.
Sofia cuffed him on the shoulder. “Be nice to our guests,” she gave her husband a stern look. “Tell me lycanthropes, Vhy haff you comm ‘ere?” Sofia’s purple eyes sparkled as she leaned forward.
Winchester spoke first. “My Lady, surely one as—intelligent as yourself would have noticed the war that seems to be brewing between the species.”
“Yes, Master Weenchestar, I haff, een fact, noteeced ze tension grown the ze horizon. My only question eez ‘ow this vill affect us. The fey haff remained neutral een every war seence ze one that ended in ze destruction of ‘eaven and ‘ell.”
“We came here to ask if you may want to join the lycanthropes in an alliance. With the Fey on our side, we would truly be unstoppable,” Winchester’s smile was insincere, as were his words. Simply by looking at him, one could tell he was only concerned with saving his own neck.
“Vhat eez een It for me?” Sofia took a glass of pink liquid from a faerie walking by with a tray.
“If victory is our, Milady, Eternal glory.” Winchester said. His humble, complementary charade was already faltering deeply.
“I am already both eternal and glorious, Weenchestar, and eef you haff sometheen for me ozzer zan empty promeeses and false flattery, I suggest you take vhat leetle respectability you haff and go.”
“I never believed Beck when he said faeries were disloyal, selfish narcissists. Obviously, Beck knows a thing or two.” Winchester growled as he began to turn.
“Wait! Before you go, please have a drink.” Sofia smiled sweetly, as she dumped the contents of the glass into his face.
He cried out and fell to his knees, pawing at his face, crying out in pain.
“Get rid of it! Please!” Josephine yelled in sudden desperation. “The food and drink of your kind are poisonous to the rest of us! Please! Stop it!”
Sofia smiled coldly. “Exactly my motives in dumping eet on heem, Dahleeng. Now run, leetle Loup-Garoux.” Erin shifted forms and took off immediately, with not a glance back. Whereas Josephine took one last painful glance at Michael Winchester, writhing on the floor before departing.
Winchester took his last staggering breaths and an odd mechanical beeping sounded.
Sonja opened her eyes and looked around. She was in her small bedroom once again, and her alarm clock was going crazy. She switched it off and forced herself out of bed, yawning.
She summoned her hairbrush to her and brushed her hair and got a change of clothes. When she walked into the kitchen, Erin was already up and eating a powdered donut... in the exact outfit she’d worn in Sonja’s dream.
“Hey!” Erin said cheerfully.
“Hey...” Sonja said, wondering whether or not to mention anything.
“Something on your mind?” Erin asked.
Sonja looked up as she slowly spoke. “Did you know a blue-haired guy named Michael Winchester?”
Erin’s eyes had a flash of recognition before she quickly shook her head. “N-no. N-never heard of him.” She stuttered.
“Tell the truth.”
A/N: So, you like so far? This is all I've got right now. R&R, please!
Home 
Portal 
