Kiss of the Goddess - Tessa Cole Page 0,1

just one step into the alley. No mugging so far.

A warm wind blew out from the depths of the narrow lane… smelling of garbage. The warmth was welcome, as much as the smell was off-putting. I didn’t know why it was warm either. Perhaps there was a sewer grate back there somewhere?

“You can do this,” I muttered to myself. But I wasn’t about to do it unprepared. My father would say, ‘this is how good women get taken by predators.’ And he might be right. Admittedly he was talking about dark alleys at one in the morning, but I’d rather be over prepared than under.

I slipped my hand into my purse and felt around for a moment, before I recalled that I’d left my taser at home.

“Well, double fuck.” If anyone had been seriously listening to me for the last minute, they’d probably be wondering about my limited vocabulary.

Finding my small umbrella, I latched onto that and pulled it out. I kept the umbrella in my purse because you never knew what a Chicago winter would bring. It wasn’t much of a weapon, but it was something, and I felt a little better about holding it as I shuffled a couple feet into the alley.

I inched forward, searching for danger, my nerves on high alert even though this situation didn’t demand high alert.

Had that garbage bag shifted? Was there movement in the shadows farther in?

This was ridiculous. I had no idea why I was suddenly panicking. My heart raced, my fear a lot stronger than it should have been, and I was sweating through my many layers of wool. I was going to be a right royal mess by the time I got to work.

I reached my phone, glanced down quickly, making sure I knew where it was, then snapped my gaze back up. No one was going to get the drop on me today.

Kneeling slowly, I patted the ground, hoping to feel the phone. Nothing yet, and I wasn’t going to risk looking down again and be caught unawares.

I shifted to the side, causing my coat and heavy skirt to bunch uncomfortably around my left leg, forcing me to adjust slightly. But my foot hit a patch of ice and slipped out from under me, throwing me head first toward a brick wall.

With a yelp, I lurched forward, sending my wool hat sliding down over my eyes. I flailed my arms out, trying to catch myself before I smashed my skull, and instead thumped face first onto soft ground, my breath knocked out of me—

Wait a minute.

Soft?

Where was that wall?

Sure, I was thrilled I hadn’t crashed into a solid wall, and yet what the hell had happened?

I sat up, reaching to adjust the hat, and got a face full of sand.

Sand?

Now I was blind for a different reason. Also, some had gotten into my mouth.

“Gah.”

I tried to spit it out and blink my eyes clear — I wasn’t going to use my hands again, since that was what I’d done the first time. Yet as my stinging, watery vision slowly cleared, I felt around me and grew even more confused.

The sand was hot.

Had I fallen through an unseen door into someone’s secret Zen garden?

It was the only thing that made sense, and yet it didn’t make any kind of sense at all, and not knowing what was going on was the last straw in a long line of frustrating, exhausting, stressful straws.

I’d almost lost my job. I’d almost lost my apartment. I’d had to spend time with my ex and my family who didn’t really understand me. And if I had now lost my phone, there was still a chance I’d lose my job.

Tears, not just from the sand, welled in my eyes. I sat enveloped in heat, getting far too warm in all my winter clothes and having — I’m ashamed to say — a mini pity party. This was the topper, the perfect end to a month from hell. I could only hope February would be better.

After a moment, I sucked in a breath and carefully wiped the grit and tears from my eyes.

There wasn’t anything I could do about what had already happened. The only thing I could do was keep moving forward. And to do that, I had to take stock and find my phone.

Except when I looked around everything had changed.

The alley was gone. The darkness was gone. Hell, all of Chicago was gone!

Sand stretched ahead of me as far as I could see,