Page 7 of Shadows of Nightshade
It wouldn’t be a pleasant quest, as Damen apparently lived in the middle of nowhere. And we were in the mountains, during a season when the evenings were getting colder.
This adventure was going to suck.
Maybe I should have informed Dr. Stephens about my lack of transportation? But it’d been difficult to think at the moment. He must have assumed it wasn’t an issue.
So now I had to figure things out for myself. It was risky, butI could rest easy with the knowledge that it was for a greater cause.
All this angst for a meeting.
Perhaps it was a sign. Perhaps I shouldn’t go. Hadn’t the metallic banging noise stopped at some point mid-afternoon? Surely, that was a good omen.
Maybe the ghost had given up and moved on.
It was too much to hope, especially when evidence suggested otherwise. Around that time, I’d also face-planted into the corner of a table after a stool was jerked out from under me.
I’d concealed the blossoming bruise and dressed for both warmth and to impress. I generally didn’t wear pants unless I was gardening. But paired with my heavy, sage green sweater, my light blue jeans looked passable enough for this introduction. After all, despite the pit settling in my stomach, I really did want to make a good first impression on my potential future brother-in-law.
Inside, though, I was a mess. Being brave was becoming old, and new adventures were overrated. Hopefully, the rest of the evening wouldn’t be too stressful. Otherwise, I had no idea how I’d hold it together.
I’d learnedthat the best way to discourage small talk is to keep your nose buried in your phone. This skill also allowed the user ample time to research, and I did like to be prepared for anything.
Therefore, I burned through my network’s data usage and searched the internet for various helpful phrases such as: ‘Do tenured professors need to have thorough background checks?’and ‘What should you do if you suspect that you might be used in a cannibalistic ritual?’.
A young girl couldn’t be too cautious, and Dr. Stephens had said something of the sort. Planning for the worst-case scenario was best—always.
Besides, what well-intentioned professor wrote down a cryptic address on a piece of paper and sent a vulnerable young woman to meet with strangers at said location? I’d read enough crime and mystery thrillers to know how this scenario might end.
Nevertheless, in the slim chance that this wasn’t a trap, I couldn’t afford to pass up this opportunity. I was desperate, and my only choice was to be prepared.
I’d also brought along my pepper spray, just in case.
However, after the shuttle dropped me off and I was left alone at some god-forsaken stop in the middle of nowhere, my internal alarm rang louder. I’d expected to walk—I wasn’t some princess—but I hadn’t planned to travel through such a densely wooded area. The sparsely located houses seemed mostly abandoned. This was far from the residential area that I’d envisioned.
Still, I stupidly trudged forward, reminding myself about the background checks the school would have performed.
The farther I walked, the fewer houses there were, and the woods became thick and dark. Eventually, the sidewalk gave way to dirt roads, and the streetlamps vanished. By this point, the only evidence of a residence was an occasional mailbox at the end of a long gravel driveway.
However, my phone indicated that I was in the right place. But…
Could there really be a meeting out here in this remote location? It didn’t seem likely.
UnlessDr. Stephens had somehow faked his backgroundcheck. Our encounter had been very suspicious, and I felt as though I was missing something obvious.
It was entirely possible he had lured me out here to murder me.
Too late, the sound of an approaching motorcycle startled me from my thoughts. I hadn’t even had time to hide in the shrubbery before the rider pulled to a halt behind me.
“Hey,” a man called. His tone was deep, although not unkind. But I’d already nearly reached my limit for the day, and the possibility of confrontation caused my muscles to seize.
The back of my neck prickled. And as I peeked over my shoulder at the newcomer, the beginning of every horror movie I’d ever watched flashed through my mind.
It was hard to miss his imposing, tall stature. But as he removed his helmet and shook his head, it was even more impossible not to be entranced, as long, loose waves fell gently around his chiseled face.
His movements mesmerized me, and I couldn’t pull my gaze away as he used a glove-covered hand to flip his hair back over his shoulder. He was wearing a torn, plaid shirt and extremely faded jeans, and had a layer of thick stubble over his jaw.
I was an idiot. Why was I staring? It was possible that I was admiring the person who was about to kill me. Was it a trap? Despite his stature, there was an otherworldly, alluring nature in the air around him.
It reminded me of a carnivorous plant enticing its prey to certain death.
