Amy Howard rounded the corner at high speed, late for class again. She really had to stop staying out at night, especially for odd reasons. She didn't see the older man until she was flat on her rear staring up at him, her books and papers and Polaroid pictures scattered all over.
"I'm terribly sorry," he said, reaching down to help her to her feet. His beautiful baritone voice was only made better by the British accent.
"No, it's my fault," she replied hurriedly. "I wasn't watching where I was going." She bent down, collecting her papers.
He handed her math book to her. "Here. Hope that your day goes better."
"Thanks." Flustered, she ran off, not even giving him a second glance. What a typical Monday.
She arrived at her class out of breath and grumpy, taking her seat next to her best friend. "Another late night?" Candace Brinks whispered over at her.
"Yeah. Didn't find anything too earth-shattering, though. The badguys are out there, but I can never find more than remnants of their work."
"Be patient. I'll go with you tonight."
Amy yawned. "If I even go tonight." She opened her grammar book and pretended to listen to the teacher, thinking. There had to be some way to prove that people around here were playing with evil forces- without depriving herself of sleep.
"Miss Howard, what is the answer?"
Amy looked up at the teacher, a blank look on her face. "Um, gerund?" she guessed from what little she had heard of the lesson.
"That's right. Now pay attention."
Amy nodded and sighed. Fine. She could deal with this later.
"You know, there has got to be an easier way to do this," Amy told Candace as they sat down at the T-Rex Grill. It was inside the Atrium, the huge, glass-enclosed area that served as both assembly area and courtyard for the college.
"Of course," Candace answered, pouring ketchup all over her fries. "We just haven't found it yet."
Amy reached for her stack of folders and books, taking out her journal and the Polaroids that she had taken last night. She looked around, lowering her voice as she handed the pictures to her friend. "This is what I found last night. I think they're spells drawn in the dirt, because I've seen similar patterns here and elsewhere."
Candace stared at them. "Ever think that maybe somebody is just messing with our heads?"
Amy laughed. "It's possible. But it's still something to do in this town."
Candace laughed, her eyes drifting to watch someone behind Amy. "Ooh, he's kind of cute for an older man," she whispered.
Amy stretched non-chalantly, twisting her back with the chair to pop it and looking behind her at the same time. She returned her face to her food quickly, turning red. "I already ran into him."
"Really?" Candace looked interested.
"No, I really ran into him. Literally. On the way to class this morning."
"Oh. Then that would probably explain why he's coming this way, then."
Horrified, Amy looked up as the man in black slacks and a gray-blue sweater stopped next to their table. He smiled, a ready and winning grin. His eyes were deep, almost ageless, and she sensed great wisdom and warmth there. "Are you doing better?" he asked her.
"Yeah," she mumbled, embarrassed.
"I'm not interrupting, am I?"
"No, of course not." Candace hid the pictures in a shuffle of papers and indicated the seat between her and Amy. "Why don't you join us?"
As he sat, he held out his hand to Amy first. "Will Stanton," he introduced himself.
She shook his hand warily. He was handsome, if a bit older, with straight brown hair and those deep blue-gray eyes. He was not the most muscular of men, but there was something in the way he held himself that spoke of strength. He was perhaps in his late twenties or early thirties. Immediately she looked for a wedding ring; she had no desire to become the target of a wild affair or something like that. She found none.
"Amy Howard," she replied. "And this is my friend, Candace Brinks."
"Very pleased to meet you both." As far as Amy could tell, the British accent was genuine.
"Are you from England?" Candace asked.
"Yes, from a little village in the Thames Valley." He smiled at her, and Amy could see her friend starting to turn red.
Amy thought, I don't know if I like him very much. He seems kind of condescending. What is his game?
"All games aside, I couldn't help but overhear your conversation."
From all the way across the room? What does he already know about us? Are we in trouble? Amy was becoming increasingly nervous.
Will Stanton looked right at her. "You really should be more cautious with your conversation. There are people here that take matters of good and evil and the protection of these things very seriously."
"Who are you?" she asked him, fighting herself to stay in her seat.
"A friend. A hunter. I've followed some of these people all the way from England. They are dangerous. You really do not want to get mixed up with them."
Who does he think he is? Is he one of them? What gives him the right to tell us what to do, the old man!
And just as though he had read her mind again, he looked at her, forcing her with those ageless eyes to meet his gaze. "Trust me, Amy, this 'old man' knows what he is talking about. Would you two care to come with me when I go looking for them, so that I can prove my point?"
Amy exchanged a glance with Candace. If not for the way Will Stanton seemed to be reading her mind, she would have been shaking her head the same way that Candace was. But for some reason, some inexplicable feeling, she trusted this older and handsome British man. "I'll go and take pictures for you," she told her friend. "I'll be fine."
"I promise no harm will come to either one of you," he reassured Candace.
"I'll pass. You go ahead." Candace looked just a little sick, and she stood. "I'll see you later."
Will Stanton watched her go, and Amy noticed that he seemed to be calculating. He doesn't trust Candace, she realized. Why not? And why would he trust me and not her?
He turned back to her. "I'm sorry. This must all seem quite odd to you."
She smiled. "Yes. But I think that it may be exactly what I've been waiting for."
"So what do you study here?" he asked, making polite conversation.
"I study English, with a bit of music and psychology on the side."
"That's a good combination. And you are how old? Twenty-two at the most, I think."
"Twenty-one," she replied, wondering why he was so interested in her age.
"Just the right age," he muttered, seeming suddenly very far away. "And yet somehow too old."
"Excuse me?" She could usually figure people out pretty well within minutes of meeting them, but this strange man with the funny accent was totally mysterious.
"I'm sorry. I was thinking out loud." He stared out at the desert, a fierceness coming over his face, one that both frightened and reassured her. He suddenly seemed much older than he must have been. "You've always been interested in good versus evil, have you not?"
Amy nodded. "Since I was thirteen. Younger than that, if you count my undying love of fairy tales." She smiled, and he returned it, his face softening.
"Fairy tales often began with some amount of truth, especially some of the oldest ones, but people forget so easily. And I think you know that already."
She nodded, not surprised at his perception. "I research mythology in my spare time. It's one of my favorite hobbies."
"Then you may be able to help me yet. I've been doing some research of my own, but I have to admit that I don't know nearly as much about American mythology as I would like." He stood. "I must be going now." He gathered his coat around him, getting ready to leave, and she stood.
"Do you need my help now?" She started gathering her things. There was so much she wanted to share with him, to get his opinions about her research, to get some basic feedback on what she had been doing.
"Not yet. Watch for the red sunrise. You will find me again then." He smiled, that ready grin that seemed so familiar in only twenty minutes. "Watch, and wait. The people you seek are as dangerous as you want, and more. Wait."
She nodded. "See you later, then, I guess," she said, kind of lamely after all the talk of mysterious things.
He smiled again. "I'm sure that I shall." And then he was gone.
She watched him go, feeling the queasy wonderful chills that told her life was about to change forever, and quickly. She shivered, and then headed for her next class.