The guy next to me leaped into the air in a move that appeared almost superhuman. “What is that?” he growled. Honest to god, growled. Okay, so we had Neo, an ice princess, and now a dude who embodied every woman’s dream romance novel hero.
The floating dude put his hands on his hips. “How rude. You don’t see me asking what you are when you behave like one of those furries off of social media.” A white cat, who had formed itself into a loaf shape on the kitchen island, hissed at him.
Furries? What? Oh my god, we were in a furry cult, and something had gone wrong during role play.
“At least I walk around the furniture and not through it,” the big guy snapped back.
The floating dude glanced down, waited a beat, and then shrieked, the sound rattling the windows and sending the cat hightailing it out of the open doors into the night.
The blonde girl lifted a strand of her perfectly styled hair. “Can you see any split ends?” she asked, waving it in the air.
The boho woman shook her head. “Absolutely not. You’re all good.”
And so not the point.
“I think you’re a ghost,” the suited man said, pointing at the floating guy.
“What gave it away?” leather coat dude muttered.
“Ghost?Ghost?” the floating guy shouted before dropping through the floor and disappearing.
Regular people would freak out right about now, but we clearly weren’t normal. I twisted my lips to the side. “I think we need to find someone who knows what’s going on.”
“And how do you suggest we do that?” growling guy said. Was he hiding behind the sofa? Yup, definitely sofa hiding. “Also, if ghosts are real, what about other things?”
“Like?” the elegant woman asked.
“Aliens,” leather coat guy said.
I snorted. Ghosts were one thing, but aliens? Nope. Surely not. I reached behind me to scratch my back. It was like something heavy was pressing on it.
“They could have probed us,” the growly guy said.
“For what?” boho lady wondered.
He shrugged. “I don’t know, but maybe that’s why we’ve lost our memories.”
“Not all our memories,” I pointed out. “I know where we are and the name of the president.”
“So it’s a short-term memory thing?” the blonde asked. “Well, I think we should just get to know each other and wait for them to come back.” She eyed the growly guy like he was a snack, and a burning jealousy erupted in my veins. Wow, I was ready to throw down if she even made a suggestive remark.
I squinted at him and tried picturing us together. How would that even work? I was tiny, and he was huge. He’d crush me.
“I say we venture out and get answers,” leather-clad dude decided as he strode to a door and flung it open. We all angled our heads with interest, only to find a broom closet.
I snorted. “Unless you’re going to ride out on a broomstick like Elphaba, I don’t think you’ll find your answers in there.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. Witches don’t exist,” he shot back. I cracked my neck and tried to rid myself of the feeling that my skin was being stretched.
A knock sounded on another door, and we all swiveled our heads toward it, but no one offered to answer it. I groaned and threw my shoulders back before striding over and flinging it open.
A petite, pretty brunette blinked at me, a plate of cookies in her hands. Oh, goodie, memory loss with treats. Could be worse.
“Who are you?” I asked.
“Um, Maggie?”
Why did she sound unsure? Was she suffering from the same memory issues too?
