"It's in my genes," I said. "And I have Gabriel for a teacher."
"No shit, huh?"
As Macy had said, a cemetery bordered the property. Cemetery on one side, golf course on the other. Both dark and silent and empty. Two routes to choose from.
We parked at the golf course, looped around, and walked in through the cemetery. We'd dressed dark. Ricky wore a light T-shirt but had zipped his leather jacket over it. Remembering our game in the cabin woods, I let him take the lead. He walked silently, as if knowing where to step to avoid cracking twigs and crunching stones. As we moved, I could practically feel the low strum of energy vibrating from him, that dark and delicious mix of tension and adrenaline. When he'd glance back to check on me, his eyes glittered, as they had in the woods.
We reached the cemetery. It was a modern one, no weathered headstones and moss-laden mausoleums. Just row after row of death. We cut our way through as if the gravestones were merely obstacles. If there was anything frightening about a cemetery at night, it was lost on me. Always had been.
A strip of woods separated the cemetery and the abandoned buildings. Ricky stopped at the edge. He glanced back to make sure I had my gun out. He nodded, took something from his jacket, and palmed it. When I leaned in to see what it was, he opened his fist to show a metal cylinder. He pressed a button. A knife shot out.
"Switchblade," I said. "Nice. I could use one of those."
"That's not enough?" he whispered, pointing at my gun.
"It does the job, if the job is to kill. I need a backup that's not always so lethal."
"You could try getting yourself into fewer situations where you need a weapon."
"I suspect that's not happening anytime soon."
A short laugh and he nodded as we carried on.
CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE
We reached the middle of the strip of forest, which was so thin we could see the fields on either side. When I heard an almost soundless whoosh-whoosh, I looked up to see an owl passing overhead. It was huge, like the ones I'd seen in Cainsville a month ago, a pair that had ripped apart a raven. I found myself looking for a second one. I knew this couldn't be the same owl, and I was sure they hunted alone. Yet when I looked, I saw another in a tree just ahead. The first lighted in the same one, and they sat there, watching us silently.
Oddly, seeing them seemed to calm me. Their unblinking gazes said to be alert and be safe. Stay watchful.
It took a moment for Ricky to notice them. When he did, he stopped.
"Now that's creepy," he said.
"Is it?"
He shivered. "Um, yeah."
I guess we didn't agree on everything. As we continued, he kept sneaking glances up at the owls, as if expecting them to dive-bomb us. It was cute, really. He'd just walked through a graveyard at night, accompanying me into a potential death trap, but what freaked him out was a pair of owls.
As we passed, they watched us go. Then they took off, flying overhead in the same direction we were heading.
"Hey, they're leading the way," I said as I pointed.
"To our deaths probably," Ricky muttered. "They carry off children in the night, you know."
"Then I guess it's a good thing we aren't children. Where'd you hear that?"
"I used to read all that stuff when I was a kid. Every now and then it just pops up."
"For me it's omens. Someone stuffed them in my head, and they crop up at the most inconvenient times."
"Yeah? Nothing about owls, then?"
"Only if it's daytime. Although if you hear an owl hoot between houses, it means someone has lost her virginity. I think we're okay there, too. And if a pregnant woman hears an owl, her child will be blessed. Again, we should be fine. At least, I hope so."
"They didn't hoot."
"Excellent."