Kyleigh has brought them to the end of Niccola’s lane and returned the parchment with her contact information, giving Niccola a clean point to continue from.
She smiled as she accepted the miniature parchment, taking care not to drag her fingers across the fresh writing. Charcoal was wonderfully dependable, but it possessed an unfortunate enthusiasm for smudging whenever one became careless.
“I am glad you approve,” she said, amusement warming her accent. “Most people look at me as though I have personally declared war upon modern technology.”
She rolled the parchment loosely rather than tightly, allowing the charcoal another moment to settle before slipping it into a narrow inner pocket of her coat. Her phone might have been waiting inside the rental, but Kyleigh’s number would be safely stored long before Niccola slept. Possibly beside a growing list of musical recommendations, depending upon how much restraint she could summon.
Probably very little. “And thank you for the ride. Being stranded was considerably less irritating with pleasant company.”
The Irishwoman glanced through the window toward the unlit lane stretching between the trees. From there, it was only a short walk to the rental. The night air looked heavy beneath the canopy, darkness pooling between the trunks in thick layers untouched by the distant development lights. Her hand settled around her staff.
“I will contact you tomorrow,” she promised. “You may regret granting me unrestricted permission to recommend music, but by then it will be far too late to escape.”
She gathered her belongings, opened the door, and stepped from the warmth of the vehicle into the cool night. Gravel shifted beneath her boots. The forest greeted her with rustling leaves, insects, and the distant call of something small moving through the undergrowth.
Then everything went quiet.
The Priestess paused beside the car. Not gradually. Not naturally. One moment the woods were alive, and the next the silence descended so completely that she could hear the faint settling of charcoal inside the parchment tucked against her chest.
Her expression remained pleasant as she closed the door, unwilling to create alarm over what might still prove to be nothing more than a predator passing nearby. “Drive safely, Kyleigh.”
She lifted one hand in farewell before turning toward the lane. She waited until she had taken several measured steps before allowing her attention to move fully beyond the ordinary limits of sight and hearing.
Something had crossed the lane recently.
The impression was not a footprint so much as a pressure left upon the night itself: an oily distortion clinging to the earth, carrying the stale suggestion of damp stone and old blood. It had approached from the woods, lingered near the path leading to her rental, and then retreated.
She lowered the end of her staff toward the disturbed ground without touching it. Whatever had passed through possessed enough intelligence to conceal its physical trail. Not enough intelligence to hide from her.
The silence began to fracture as the insects cautiously resumed their song, but she no longer mistook the darkness for emptiness. She continued toward the rental at an unhurried pace, every sense open.
Perhaps fate had not merely placed Kyleigh upon that highway to offer her a ride. Perhaps something had known Niccola was coming...
