I ride my bike home wondering what is wrong with me, why I feel so off-kilter. As I open the gate to the front yard, a small voice whispers my name and I crouch down onto the garden grass. Multiple garden fairies flutter in my direction.
“Miss Ember, the bat is back. It’s in the shutters,” Tabitha says. I hold out my hand and she stands on my palm.
She is the biggest busybody out of all the garden fairies that live in my garden. I give them somewhere safe to live and they help me take care of the vast property.
“The bat isn’t bothering anyone. It just needs a safe place to stay,” I tell her.
The bat has come and gone throughout the years, taking shelter in different places in my cottage. The shutters are their favorites.
“What if it eats one of us!” Domingo shouts and some other fairies nod in agreement.
I try not to smile too hard as I stare down at the small little garden fairy that’s dressed in Barbie clothes they modified for their wispy, membranous wings.
“If the bat causes any issues, I’ll handle it, but for now consider it another creature seeking refuge in the gardens.”
Domingo and Tabitha both glare at me, which has no heat, considering how small they are. I’m not even sure they could wrap their arms around my wrist.
“Do you want to wake up one morning to us all slaughtered?” Tabitha complains and I sigh.
“No, Tabitha. I’ll ward the garden to ensure that our little bat friend can’t eat anyone,” I say, compromising.
She has her arms crossed over her chest. She’s wearing a formal gown and her long, blonde hair is plated with small flower petals woven in.
“Fine, we accept,” she says, irritated, before fluttering away.
I stand out of the dirt, dusting off my jeans and head over to the main cottage.
“The fairies are out for blood. Watch your back,” I whisper to the bat, before entering my home.
It’s no surprise that Gus, my raccoon familiar, is eating peanuts while he watchesPocahontason the TV.
“Gus, how many have you had?” I ask, looking at the container.
He makes a huffing noise, grabbing the bag with his tiny raccoon hands.
“Mind your own business. You need to get out of the house more,”he says to me telepathically, and my mouth drops.
As my familiar, he communicates only to me through magic and I speak out loud to him. Every witch has one, and they come in a variety of animals and personalities.
“Excuse me, where is this attitude coming from?”
He grumbles, crunching on more peanuts.“The fairies need to learn to shut the fuck up. They’re hindering my daytime sleep.”
If there is one thing to know about Gus, it’s that he loves cursing, eating, and animated movies.
“I’ll talk with the fairies,” I say, feeling exhausted from the day.
I plop down on the couch next to Gus, sending him in the air a little, and he side-eyes me.
“I’m not wrong. You do need to get out more.”
“Violet is setting me up on a date with a wolf shifter,” I tell him proudly.
The racoon snickers at me.
“What?” I say, exacerbated.
“I wonder what will be wrong with him. Will he chew too loud? Will he be too tall or too short? Will he be too masculine or not masculine enough? Oh, I bet he won’t be as big of a freak?—”
