Remington was in bed, sleeping, his long term girlfriend wrapped around his body as she often was. And then he wasn't. Cold began to seep into his bones. He shivered and tried to turn to Candi, assuming she'd stolen the covers. But his hands touched a warm body, not the cool one of a vampire.
Bolting upright, Remington's eyes didn't need to adjust. He'd gone from one space of darkness to another, but this one was entirely foreign. His hands were touching grass. He looked down. His fingers scratched at the earth. Then he looked up. There was a tent above him. And to his side was Nathaniel. NATHANIEL! "Wake the fuck up," he declared. Fucking magic. It had to be magic. How else did he get in a tent with the djinn.