Silence - eARC by Mercedes Lackey, Cody Martin Page A

hand. Then he pulled out a tiny pencil from the case. “What’s yours?”
    She stammered, giving him her cell number first, by accident. “Oh wait, that’s my cell—” she corrected, flushing.
    “Which doesn’t work here,” he finished, with a nod of sympathy. She gave him her mom’s number, and he duly wrote it down inside the case. “If for some reason I don’t call you in a few days, I want you to call me. All right? I’m serious.”
    “Okay…”
    “Cool. We’ll hang out again soon, maybe get some coffee.” There was a peal of laughter and shouts from the rest of the party. “That’s my cue; better get back before anyone tries to climb on something. Good night, Staci.” With a final wave, he started to walk back to the party.
    Well, what else could she do but get in the limo, what with the driver standing there patiently holding the door open for her?
    It was like being driven around in a luxury hotel room. There was even a bar. Since it had bottled water, she helped herself to a bottle. The bottles were glass, not plastic, and unlabeled; she had seen “artesian water” like this served in super-high-end restaurants. It was even chilled.
    Just after they came out of the woods and were still at the top of the bluff, she remembered with dismay that she had left her bike at the church, and bit off an exclamation of annoyance.
    The little speaker next to the bar activated with a faint hiss. “Yes, miss?” the chauffeur said.
    She flushed. “Nothing. I’m just going to have to get my bike from the church tomorrow and it’s a l—”
    “Not at all, miss. Master Sean would be extremely put out if he found out we hadn’t picked it up for you. First Methodist, I believe?”
    “Uh—ye—”
    “Very good, miss.”
    The limo rolled to an almost silent stop at the church, which was, of course, dark. The gang had warned her that everything would close up by eleven at the latest, and it was almost one, now. The chauffeur came around to her door and let her out. “I’ll get the boot open, miss. If you’ll tell me where—”
    “No, no, it’s all right,” she said hastily. “I need to unlock it anyway.”
    “Very good, miss.” He went to the back of the car. She hurried off towards the bike rack at the front of the church. It was sitting under a single yellow streetlamp, which was flickering intermittently. She bent down to unlock the chain; the lock was being stubborn, refusing to come open even after she put the right combination in. The light above her flickered a few more times…and then she noticed one of the creepy gnomes with the red, pointed caps, sitting right next to the light pole, facing directly at her.
    Staci almost jumped out of her skin, falling onto her backside with a yelp of surprise and pain, her bike knocked over.
    “Miss, are you all right?” The driver was calling from the car; he must have heard her or saw her fall over in one of his mirrors.
    “Yeah, I’m fine…just got, um, startled.” She stood up, rubbing her now sore backside with one hand. “Stupid, weird little troll,” she muttered, kicking the gnome and sending it rolling off into some nearby bushes. Finally, she managed to unlock her bike, and trudged back to the limo with it in tow. I really hate whoever is putting those freaky lawn decorations everywhere. Really, really hate.
    The driver had exited the limo by that point, and took her bike from her and loaded it into the trunk, which was big enough to hold three bikes. She got into the back as he held the door open for her, and picked up her bottle of water. As she did so, she cast a sour glance at the bushes she’d kicked the freaky little gnome into.
    The light flickered again, and she thought she saw it—not lying flat, but standing up again. And…looking down the hill at the car, and her.
    But the limo rolled away and the light flickered out again, too quickly for her to be sure of what she had seen.
    Must be some shadows, or my mind playing tricks