I was on the phone with Kingsley.
"I assume you need something?" he asked pleasantly, rich humor in his deep voice.
"You assume correctly."
I was in my small bedroom. The door was closed. Allison was cleaning up in the kitchen. Occasionally, my small bedroom window rattled with the passing wind, which shrieked like a living thing.
Or a dead thing.
I brought Kingsley up to speed, knowing I sounded insane as I did so, and knowing I sounded, perhaps, even a little hysterical. I was, after all, trapped on an island in the middle of a nasty storm - blustery, my ass - with what appeared to be one equally nasty dark entity. An entity that just might have lured me up here.
Successfully, I might add.
Kingsley listened quietly, as he always did. A helluva trait in a man. He occasionally made small, noncommittal noises to let me know he was still there and hearing me - another great trait - and when I was done, he let out some air.
"Wow, Sam."
"Wow what?"
"That's quite a story."
"Thank you for that completely worthless assessment."
"Ouch."
"I'm freaking out over here. Tell me what the hell is going on, please."
"Calm down, Sam - "
"I've got Allison here with me...and I need to keep her safe, too, and I seriously have no clue what's going on."
"Sam, calm down. You didn't let me finish. Yes, that's a wild story, true, but I also think I know what you're up against."
"Oh, thank God."
"Don't thank God me yet, young lady.
This thing is about as far away from God as you can imagine. And you and Allison are very much in danger. So much so that I'm heading up there now - "
"Wait, what?"
"I'm literally out the door, Sam."
"Wait, hold on, Kingsley! You can't be serious. Wait, are you in your car?"