Page 202 of Dark Night of the Soul

“Hello?” He looked confused. A faint English accent.

“Do you know who I am?” I asked.

Behind me, footsteps stopped. I didn’t have to turn to know Kincade had gone still. The young man’s gaze flicked to him, then back to me.

When he didn’t answer, I stuck out my hand. “Anna Walker.”

“Oh.” He hesitated, then shook my hand. “William.”

“Nice to meet you, William.” I peered past him into the shack. A monitor, like Silas had promised. A radio. An uncomfortable stool. A stainless-steel mug.

“Coffee or tea, William?”

He blinked, still thrown. I motioned to the mug.

“Tea,” he said, like he wasn’t sure why he was answering.

“What kind?”

Again, he looked at Kincade, like hoping for an explanation. Or a rescue.

“Earl Grey,” he said.

“Cream and sugar?”

He nodded.

“Great. I’ll make sure you have fresh,” I said. “How long is your shift, William?”

I hadn’t intended to grill the poor kid, but here we were.

“Twelve hours,” he said. “Ma’am.”

Behind me, a faint snicker.

“Don’t call me ma’am,” I said, voice even.

“Sorry. Miss Walker.”

Heat flared up my neck. “Not that either. Just Anna.”

“Okay,” he said quickly.

“Where do you stay? On the estate?”

“Anna—” Kincade’s voice, warning.

I waved him off.

“Uh… the bunkhouse.”

“Bunkhouse?” I turned to Kincade. “You know about a bunkhouse?”

“No.”

“It’s the stables,” William offered.

“The stables,” I repeated. Then to Kincade, “I want to see them.”