Paths of the Hunter, chapter 4
Title:Paths of the Hunter, chapter 4
Genre: Dark is Rising fanfiction
Rating: PG (suspense)
Chapter 4
“I can’t believe that you missed class completely!” Candace exclaimed when Amy caught up to her at the T-Rex Grill for lunch. “Where were you? What were you thinking?”
Amy shrugged. She didn’t feel like telling her best friend about the dream or the scar on her palm or the red sunrise or any of it. Somehow, she felt as though she had entered a world that Candace would just never understand, could never understand. “I slept in,” she offered. It was sort of the truth. After her hike through the desert to the railroad camp, she had found that she was exhausted. She had planned on only resting for about five minutes, but those five minutes had turned into an hour, and then two.
Candace shook her head. “You haven’t been the same since this Stanton guy showed up. There’s nothing going on between you two, is there? You’re not having an affair with this guy, are you?”
Amy could have laughed, except for her defensive mood. “No,” she said simply. “I haven’t seen him more than twice in the last three days.” That much, at least, was true. “I don’t know much more about him than you do.” Except that he didn’t even seem to be of this world, the way that he could shift time and history and reality itself.
Candace harrumphed. “Don’t get touchy. As your best friend, I would just have a right to all the juicy details, right?”
Amy nodded absently, scanning the Atrium. The T-Rex skeleton watched over the big open area with a toothy grin, and she wondered if Will Stanton knew his secrets too. How old was the man, really?
A man standing under the T-rex caught her eye, and she nearly choked on her French fries. He was of Asian descent, not much different from all of the other foreign students that ended up in the middle of Wyoming for no apparent reason, except he was a little older. His black hair was touched with gray, and he was wearing a suit. Amy was certain she had seen him before. In fact, she was sure that she had seen him just this morning, only much younger and much dirtier.
“You okay?” Candace asked.
“Yeah, fine. I just remembered something that I forgot.” She got to her feet. “I’ll meet you at class, okay?”
“Okay,” Candace replied, confused.
Amy gathered up her books and headed away from the Atrium. Somehow, she had to find Will and tell him that the Chinaman he was looking for was here. Here, at her college. There was no way that this was a coincidence. But how was she supposed to find Will? She knew nothing about him, especially where to find him.
She headed toward the cafeteria, toward the music department. She needed to think, needed time to process everything that had happened this morning. Especially the dream…. She had been avoiding thinking about that all morning. What in the world could it possibly mean? Ravens were messengers in Native American mythology, but what was the message? She was missing it.
She sat down at the table across the hall from the cafeteria, and took out her notebook and started doodling. It was a way that she could clear her mind. After about five minutes, she actually looked at what she had drawn. The odd symbol, that circle quartered by a cross, filled the page. She wondered what it was. She had seen similar things in her studies of mythology and anthropology. Its design was vaguely Celtic, but why would it be showing up in obsidian? And more importantly, how could something she believed to be a religious symbol hurt her?
She looked at her watch, and got to her feet. She needed to get to her next class, anthropology. They were supposed to have a guest speaker on methods of collecting information, some world-renowned historian or something. Today was not a day to be late. Besides. Anthropology was one of her favorite classes.
She walked in the door about five minutes early, and almost walked back out again. The guest professor for the day was none other than the Chinaman from this morning. Local history. Right. This man was local history. She had to make a conscious effort not to stare at him, not to draw his attention. Who knew what he had become since that day almost a hundred and twenty years ago? Will probably did, but he wasn’t here.
“What’s wrong?” Candace asked as she sat down next to Amy. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
“I think I’m getting a cold,” Amy lied. She hated lying to Candace, but how could she possibly explain any of it here, right now, with him in the room?
“Maybe you better get some rest after class.” Candace took out her books, not even noticing the feeling of dread that had settled over Amy. Somehow, seeing Will’s enemy made the whole odd situation feel… real.
Professor Houston looked at his watch, then went to the front of the class to introduce his guest. “This is my good friend Doctor Li Cheng, most recently from England after moving there to escape the Chinese repossession of Hong Kong. He knows I don’t like to give flowery speeches and long introductions, but he is a pretty famous historian, so listen up. You might actually learn something.” A couple of the students in the class chuckled. “And I’m sure he’ll let you ask questions afterward.” He looked to the Chinaman, who was nodding. “Cheng? The floor is yours.”
“Thank you, Professor,” the graying man replied in a soft British accent, not too much different from Will’s, as he took the front of the classroom. He had had a lot of time to work on his English. Amy barely heard him as he started talking about data collection and cultures. She was focusing so hard on trying to summon Will by the power of her mind, useless as that was. Then something that he said stood out at her. “Of course, the best way to understand history is to live it. Unfortunately, we can’t go back and watch events as they happen.” He seemed to be staring straight at her, and she couldn’t help but meet his eyes.
They were dark Asian eyes, but there was something far more dark there than just the pigment of the iris. There was a blackness there, a light-sucking void that seemed to draw all of the warmth out of her. She shivered, seeing in his eyes all the contempt and hatred that must be the Dark toward humanity. Dizziness swept over her, turning her stomach, pounding in her head. She could not stay here any longer. She got to her feet, and despite stares from her classmates, hurriedly grabbed all her books and ran out of the classroom to the nearest ladies’ room.
Ten minutes later, still shaky, she emerged, and headed toward the dorms. On the way, she passed the stairs leading down to the music department. Music floated up at her, calming. Someone was singing, an unfamiliar voice in a mild but very pleasant baritone. He missed an entrance, and the piano cut off as he laughed with his accompanist. Amy’s poor heart almost stopped again. She knew that kind laughter, and she was almost angry with him for not hearing her mental summons to come rescue her.
She made her way down the stairs slowly, anger and frustration quickly replaced by a growing sense of relief. Will was here; he would make everything right. He would make the dark, icky feeling that she could feel building up in the entire school go away.
She stopped in the doorway as someone started to pick out “Greensleeves” on the piano. It was a simple melody, but it was her favorite piano in the music department. There was an uncomplicated, almost magical quality to the notes, carrying through the air and dispelling the darkness.
She blinked then, her vision blurring as she saw two worlds. One was the music department, standing still and watching as Will plunked out his melody on the piano. But there was another world, superimposed on hers. She could see the light that surrounded and emanated from her strange Englishman, could see it spreading through the air on wings of song. She turned, a feeling of dread coming over her, and saw Mr. Cheng coming toward the music department on a tide of darkness so black and so thick that it swallowed up the very walls of the school, absorbing everything in its way. He was no longer the historian, but a towering figure of menace and fury, eyes burning through her painfully as they paralyzed her to the spot with fear.
“Will,” she whimpered, a plea, but she wasn’t sure that he heard her, because the music kept playing and Mr. Cheng kept advancing. Then she thought about it. Even if Will had heard her, his music was the only thing that was keeping them from being swallowed, too.
She looked around then, for something, anything, that would stop the darkness from overpowering the weak melody. There, on the ground next to the theater director’s door, was something that glinted in the fading light. It looked like it had been dropped. She ran to it, feeling a sense of urgency. She had to get to it before the Dark did.
She picked the object up, and almost dropped it again. It was a pendant of Wyoming jade- the good, very dark kind of jade- and quite obviously meant to be worn on a cord around the neck. It was the symbol that surprised her, that same circle quartered by a cross.
Feeling instinctively what she must now do, she did not stop to wonder how in the world it had come to be there. Just like the obsidian in her dream, it started to glow from within, this time a calm but powerful white color. She could feel a strange almost-heat as the light grew in intensity, but it did not burn her. Instead, it brought strength to her weakened limbs, allowing her to raise her arms straight out in front of her, pointing at the Dark. “You have no power here,” she heard herself say in a voice that sounded so much more confident than she really felt. “Leave this place and work your evil elsewhere.”
The Dark hesitated, then tried to advance, this time slowly and cautiously. Amy felt a righteous fury boil up inside of her. How dare they! “By the Sign of the Light, leave this place,” she commanded in a voice that just did not seem like her own and words that could not have been. The glow brightened until it blinded her. Mr. Cheng shrieked in fury, no longer human but some twisted creature, and retreated, taking the oozing black mass of hatred and hunger with him.
Amy sank to her knees outside the door of the music classroom as Will finished playing, watching the two worlds become only one again. She waited for the world to stop spinning before getting to one knee in an effort to stand. Nope. She was so not ready to stand yet.
She looked at the dark jade circle in her fist, wondering at this little trinket. She could think of only one person that may have dropped it. Okay. She was ready to be back on her feet.
She knocked timidly on the door of the classroom. Will and the department head were chatting. “Excuse me? Did either of you drop this?” She looked at Will, who seemed relieved to see that she was okay after that. A million emotions flickered quickly over his face, none of them readable, and then that ready grin. She almost passed out from her own relief.
Professor Martin looked at the circle and shook his head. “No, I don’t believe I’ve seen anyone wearing it, either. Where did you find it?”
“Outside the theater office,” she replied, showing it to Will. He made a great pretense of checking the cord at his neck, and finding it broken, laughed.
“It’s probably mine, then,” he replied. “Just something I picked up at one of those Wyoming rock shops.”
“Oh, how rude of me,” Professor Martin jumped in. “Amy, this is my good friend from England, Will Stanton. He’s visiting for a little while. Will, this is Amy Howard, the best singer that I just can’t talk into becoming a music major.”
Amy grinned, feeling at ease around Professor Martin. Most of her electives her freshman year had been music classes, and the department head was one of the nicest people in the school. “You never will, either. I’m too devoted to English.”
Will laughed, and she felt the lingering darkness in her bones fading. “See? It’s not just me, Harold. There are others like me, at least in some aspects.”
“No person on earth can be quite like you, Will. You’re different.” It wasn’t meant as an insult, not from Professor Martin. Amy agreed. There could be no one like Will Stanton.
She leaned against a desk, feeling her day catch up with her. “Are you okay?” Will asked her, worry clear on his face. He knew what she had just faced out there, even if nobody else did or ever would.
“I’m not feeling too well. I left class because I was sick. But I had to see who had such a beautiful voice down here.”
Professor Martin laughed. “That would be our Professor Stanton.”
“Professor?”
“Will here teaches English, when he’s not traveling the world. But you better get home, Amy. You do look pale.”
“I’ll walk you to the dorms, if you’d like,” Will offered. It was a chance to talk to him, a chance that she was not going to pass up.
“I would like that, at least until I can find a roommate or something to help me out.” She wobbled a bit, and realized that maybe she really did need him to watch her get safely there.
“Always the gentleman,” Professor Martin commented. Amy shook her head. She knew he meant well, but right now she didn’t need his friendly comments. She was starting to feel quite grumpy.
“I’ll meet you for dinner, as planned,” Will told him. “I have some other things to take care of before then.”
“See you then,” the music teacher replied, disappearing into his office.
Will lent her his arm as they climbed the stairs. She was grateful for his presence, but she waited to speak until they were outside of the main campus building. It was cold for the middle of October, and the sky was heavy and dark gray. She wondered if tonight would be the first snow of the season. “He’s here, Will, at the college,” she told him quietly, shivering. She had forgotten her coat on her way to class.
“I know.” His face was tight, but not worried. “I felt and saw what happened in the hallway. Well done, Amy, well done.” He looked over at her, and approval was clear on his face. “I know you don’t quite realize what you did, and I will not explain until you are more rested, but it was very well done.”
She opened her mouth to protest, then shut it. If she weren’t leaning on him for support, maybe she would have a right to complain. She opened her fist instead, showing him the jade circle again. “Is this really yours? Or was it just there because it needed to be?”
He laughed. “You’re starting to understand. It’s actually both. I did pick it up at a rock shop somewhere between here and Cheyenne, because I thought it might come in handy. It’s yours, if you want to keep it.” He met her eyes, searching hers for… something. He was unreadable again, suddenly, and more than human.
She met those gray eyes, not flinching, trying to read what she could from him. He was tired too, but it was a different sort of tired from her exhaustion. He was old, older than any human had a right to be, and yet the age he seemed to be. “What are you?” she asked him quietly.
“The last of a very old breed,” he replied. “Again, no more explanation until you’re rested. You’re falling over.”
Just because he was right didn’t make it any easier to stop pressing for information, but she could be good. “When will I find you again?”
“When you need to. I’ll give you my cell phone number, but I don’t usually have it turned on. I don’t like always being able to be found.” They stopped in front of her building, and he scribbled a number on a receipt from his pocket. “There. I’ll probably see you before you need to call me, but you have it if there’s a true emergency.”
She looked at it. “This is an American number. I thought you came from England.”
“I’ve been here a while,” he replied. “Go get some rest. Eat something and go to sleep early.”
“Fine,” she told him, glad to be ordered. She wasn’t sure she really would go to bed unless someone told her she had to. “See you later, Will.”
He smiled, a concerned smile, a pleased smile. “Until we meet again,” he told her, and then he was gone again. She watched him go, then turned to tackle the stairs leading up to her room.
Genre: Dark is Rising fanfiction
Rating: PG (suspense)
Chapter 4
“I can’t believe that you missed class completely!” Candace exclaimed when Amy caught up to her at the T-Rex Grill for lunch. “Where were you? What were you thinking?”
Amy shrugged. She didn’t feel like telling her best friend about the dream or the scar on her palm or the red sunrise or any of it. Somehow, she felt as though she had entered a world that Candace would just never understand, could never understand. “I slept in,” she offered. It was sort of the truth. After her hike through the desert to the railroad camp, she had found that she was exhausted. She had planned on only resting for about five minutes, but those five minutes had turned into an hour, and then two.
Candace shook her head. “You haven’t been the same since this Stanton guy showed up. There’s nothing going on between you two, is there? You’re not having an affair with this guy, are you?”
Amy could have laughed, except for her defensive mood. “No,” she said simply. “I haven’t seen him more than twice in the last three days.” That much, at least, was true. “I don’t know much more about him than you do.” Except that he didn’t even seem to be of this world, the way that he could shift time and history and reality itself.
Candace harrumphed. “Don’t get touchy. As your best friend, I would just have a right to all the juicy details, right?”
Amy nodded absently, scanning the Atrium. The T-Rex skeleton watched over the big open area with a toothy grin, and she wondered if Will Stanton knew his secrets too. How old was the man, really?
A man standing under the T-rex caught her eye, and she nearly choked on her French fries. He was of Asian descent, not much different from all of the other foreign students that ended up in the middle of Wyoming for no apparent reason, except he was a little older. His black hair was touched with gray, and he was wearing a suit. Amy was certain she had seen him before. In fact, she was sure that she had seen him just this morning, only much younger and much dirtier.
“You okay?” Candace asked.
“Yeah, fine. I just remembered something that I forgot.” She got to her feet. “I’ll meet you at class, okay?”
“Okay,” Candace replied, confused.
Amy gathered up her books and headed away from the Atrium. Somehow, she had to find Will and tell him that the Chinaman he was looking for was here. Here, at her college. There was no way that this was a coincidence. But how was she supposed to find Will? She knew nothing about him, especially where to find him.
She headed toward the cafeteria, toward the music department. She needed to think, needed time to process everything that had happened this morning. Especially the dream…. She had been avoiding thinking about that all morning. What in the world could it possibly mean? Ravens were messengers in Native American mythology, but what was the message? She was missing it.
She sat down at the table across the hall from the cafeteria, and took out her notebook and started doodling. It was a way that she could clear her mind. After about five minutes, she actually looked at what she had drawn. The odd symbol, that circle quartered by a cross, filled the page. She wondered what it was. She had seen similar things in her studies of mythology and anthropology. Its design was vaguely Celtic, but why would it be showing up in obsidian? And more importantly, how could something she believed to be a religious symbol hurt her?
She looked at her watch, and got to her feet. She needed to get to her next class, anthropology. They were supposed to have a guest speaker on methods of collecting information, some world-renowned historian or something. Today was not a day to be late. Besides. Anthropology was one of her favorite classes.
She walked in the door about five minutes early, and almost walked back out again. The guest professor for the day was none other than the Chinaman from this morning. Local history. Right. This man was local history. She had to make a conscious effort not to stare at him, not to draw his attention. Who knew what he had become since that day almost a hundred and twenty years ago? Will probably did, but he wasn’t here.
“What’s wrong?” Candace asked as she sat down next to Amy. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
“I think I’m getting a cold,” Amy lied. She hated lying to Candace, but how could she possibly explain any of it here, right now, with him in the room?
“Maybe you better get some rest after class.” Candace took out her books, not even noticing the feeling of dread that had settled over Amy. Somehow, seeing Will’s enemy made the whole odd situation feel… real.
Professor Houston looked at his watch, then went to the front of the class to introduce his guest. “This is my good friend Doctor Li Cheng, most recently from England after moving there to escape the Chinese repossession of Hong Kong. He knows I don’t like to give flowery speeches and long introductions, but he is a pretty famous historian, so listen up. You might actually learn something.” A couple of the students in the class chuckled. “And I’m sure he’ll let you ask questions afterward.” He looked to the Chinaman, who was nodding. “Cheng? The floor is yours.”
“Thank you, Professor,” the graying man replied in a soft British accent, not too much different from Will’s, as he took the front of the classroom. He had had a lot of time to work on his English. Amy barely heard him as he started talking about data collection and cultures. She was focusing so hard on trying to summon Will by the power of her mind, useless as that was. Then something that he said stood out at her. “Of course, the best way to understand history is to live it. Unfortunately, we can’t go back and watch events as they happen.” He seemed to be staring straight at her, and she couldn’t help but meet his eyes.
They were dark Asian eyes, but there was something far more dark there than just the pigment of the iris. There was a blackness there, a light-sucking void that seemed to draw all of the warmth out of her. She shivered, seeing in his eyes all the contempt and hatred that must be the Dark toward humanity. Dizziness swept over her, turning her stomach, pounding in her head. She could not stay here any longer. She got to her feet, and despite stares from her classmates, hurriedly grabbed all her books and ran out of the classroom to the nearest ladies’ room.
Ten minutes later, still shaky, she emerged, and headed toward the dorms. On the way, she passed the stairs leading down to the music department. Music floated up at her, calming. Someone was singing, an unfamiliar voice in a mild but very pleasant baritone. He missed an entrance, and the piano cut off as he laughed with his accompanist. Amy’s poor heart almost stopped again. She knew that kind laughter, and she was almost angry with him for not hearing her mental summons to come rescue her.
She made her way down the stairs slowly, anger and frustration quickly replaced by a growing sense of relief. Will was here; he would make everything right. He would make the dark, icky feeling that she could feel building up in the entire school go away.
She stopped in the doorway as someone started to pick out “Greensleeves” on the piano. It was a simple melody, but it was her favorite piano in the music department. There was an uncomplicated, almost magical quality to the notes, carrying through the air and dispelling the darkness.
She blinked then, her vision blurring as she saw two worlds. One was the music department, standing still and watching as Will plunked out his melody on the piano. But there was another world, superimposed on hers. She could see the light that surrounded and emanated from her strange Englishman, could see it spreading through the air on wings of song. She turned, a feeling of dread coming over her, and saw Mr. Cheng coming toward the music department on a tide of darkness so black and so thick that it swallowed up the very walls of the school, absorbing everything in its way. He was no longer the historian, but a towering figure of menace and fury, eyes burning through her painfully as they paralyzed her to the spot with fear.
“Will,” she whimpered, a plea, but she wasn’t sure that he heard her, because the music kept playing and Mr. Cheng kept advancing. Then she thought about it. Even if Will had heard her, his music was the only thing that was keeping them from being swallowed, too.
She looked around then, for something, anything, that would stop the darkness from overpowering the weak melody. There, on the ground next to the theater director’s door, was something that glinted in the fading light. It looked like it had been dropped. She ran to it, feeling a sense of urgency. She had to get to it before the Dark did.
She picked the object up, and almost dropped it again. It was a pendant of Wyoming jade- the good, very dark kind of jade- and quite obviously meant to be worn on a cord around the neck. It was the symbol that surprised her, that same circle quartered by a cross.
Feeling instinctively what she must now do, she did not stop to wonder how in the world it had come to be there. Just like the obsidian in her dream, it started to glow from within, this time a calm but powerful white color. She could feel a strange almost-heat as the light grew in intensity, but it did not burn her. Instead, it brought strength to her weakened limbs, allowing her to raise her arms straight out in front of her, pointing at the Dark. “You have no power here,” she heard herself say in a voice that sounded so much more confident than she really felt. “Leave this place and work your evil elsewhere.”
The Dark hesitated, then tried to advance, this time slowly and cautiously. Amy felt a righteous fury boil up inside of her. How dare they! “By the Sign of the Light, leave this place,” she commanded in a voice that just did not seem like her own and words that could not have been. The glow brightened until it blinded her. Mr. Cheng shrieked in fury, no longer human but some twisted creature, and retreated, taking the oozing black mass of hatred and hunger with him.
Amy sank to her knees outside the door of the music classroom as Will finished playing, watching the two worlds become only one again. She waited for the world to stop spinning before getting to one knee in an effort to stand. Nope. She was so not ready to stand yet.
She looked at the dark jade circle in her fist, wondering at this little trinket. She could think of only one person that may have dropped it. Okay. She was ready to be back on her feet.
She knocked timidly on the door of the classroom. Will and the department head were chatting. “Excuse me? Did either of you drop this?” She looked at Will, who seemed relieved to see that she was okay after that. A million emotions flickered quickly over his face, none of them readable, and then that ready grin. She almost passed out from her own relief.
Professor Martin looked at the circle and shook his head. “No, I don’t believe I’ve seen anyone wearing it, either. Where did you find it?”
“Outside the theater office,” she replied, showing it to Will. He made a great pretense of checking the cord at his neck, and finding it broken, laughed.
“It’s probably mine, then,” he replied. “Just something I picked up at one of those Wyoming rock shops.”
“Oh, how rude of me,” Professor Martin jumped in. “Amy, this is my good friend from England, Will Stanton. He’s visiting for a little while. Will, this is Amy Howard, the best singer that I just can’t talk into becoming a music major.”
Amy grinned, feeling at ease around Professor Martin. Most of her electives her freshman year had been music classes, and the department head was one of the nicest people in the school. “You never will, either. I’m too devoted to English.”
Will laughed, and she felt the lingering darkness in her bones fading. “See? It’s not just me, Harold. There are others like me, at least in some aspects.”
“No person on earth can be quite like you, Will. You’re different.” It wasn’t meant as an insult, not from Professor Martin. Amy agreed. There could be no one like Will Stanton.
She leaned against a desk, feeling her day catch up with her. “Are you okay?” Will asked her, worry clear on his face. He knew what she had just faced out there, even if nobody else did or ever would.
“I’m not feeling too well. I left class because I was sick. But I had to see who had such a beautiful voice down here.”
Professor Martin laughed. “That would be our Professor Stanton.”
“Professor?”
“Will here teaches English, when he’s not traveling the world. But you better get home, Amy. You do look pale.”
“I’ll walk you to the dorms, if you’d like,” Will offered. It was a chance to talk to him, a chance that she was not going to pass up.
“I would like that, at least until I can find a roommate or something to help me out.” She wobbled a bit, and realized that maybe she really did need him to watch her get safely there.
“Always the gentleman,” Professor Martin commented. Amy shook her head. She knew he meant well, but right now she didn’t need his friendly comments. She was starting to feel quite grumpy.
“I’ll meet you for dinner, as planned,” Will told him. “I have some other things to take care of before then.”
“See you then,” the music teacher replied, disappearing into his office.
Will lent her his arm as they climbed the stairs. She was grateful for his presence, but she waited to speak until they were outside of the main campus building. It was cold for the middle of October, and the sky was heavy and dark gray. She wondered if tonight would be the first snow of the season. “He’s here, Will, at the college,” she told him quietly, shivering. She had forgotten her coat on her way to class.
“I know.” His face was tight, but not worried. “I felt and saw what happened in the hallway. Well done, Amy, well done.” He looked over at her, and approval was clear on his face. “I know you don’t quite realize what you did, and I will not explain until you are more rested, but it was very well done.”
She opened her mouth to protest, then shut it. If she weren’t leaning on him for support, maybe she would have a right to complain. She opened her fist instead, showing him the jade circle again. “Is this really yours? Or was it just there because it needed to be?”
He laughed. “You’re starting to understand. It’s actually both. I did pick it up at a rock shop somewhere between here and Cheyenne, because I thought it might come in handy. It’s yours, if you want to keep it.” He met her eyes, searching hers for… something. He was unreadable again, suddenly, and more than human.
She met those gray eyes, not flinching, trying to read what she could from him. He was tired too, but it was a different sort of tired from her exhaustion. He was old, older than any human had a right to be, and yet the age he seemed to be. “What are you?” she asked him quietly.
“The last of a very old breed,” he replied. “Again, no more explanation until you’re rested. You’re falling over.”
Just because he was right didn’t make it any easier to stop pressing for information, but she could be good. “When will I find you again?”
“When you need to. I’ll give you my cell phone number, but I don’t usually have it turned on. I don’t like always being able to be found.” They stopped in front of her building, and he scribbled a number on a receipt from his pocket. “There. I’ll probably see you before you need to call me, but you have it if there’s a true emergency.”
She looked at it. “This is an American number. I thought you came from England.”
“I’ve been here a while,” he replied. “Go get some rest. Eat something and go to sleep early.”
“Fine,” she told him, glad to be ordered. She wasn’t sure she really would go to bed unless someone told her she had to. “See you later, Will.”
He smiled, a concerned smile, a pleased smile. “Until we meet again,” he told her, and then he was gone again. She watched him go, then turned to tackle the stairs leading up to her room.