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that had no place in the cold comfort of night at the Cabin. Saul narrowed his eyes; he had not felt such a thing since…
    Well, he had never felt it at Red Creek, that’s certain.
    The best way Saul could explain what he felt then, as he looked out into the dark forest beyond his home, was magnetism. Something was pulling him forward, urging him outward. Saul hoped it was simply the adrenaline that was still coursing through him as the result of his confrontation with Lester Dobbs that was making him feel it.  Because if it was not, Saul may well find himself in a bad fucking situation before the month was through. Because a feeling such as this, a presence like the one that had the fine hairs on the back of his neck rise in alarm, could only mean that They were coming.
    Saul supposed it was logical that They would take an interest in him. But why now? Why not when his father had been murdered, when his sister had fled the state in fear – why not come lay the Law on him then, when he had been weak and alone and likely to snap out of pure frustration? Was what barely passed as a confrontation with a town’s drunk truly more threatening to their Order than all of that?
    Saul turned away from the forests and headed back inside. Even if what he was sensin g wa s The Guard, there was no immediate threat.  If what he was feeling was their presence, they were a long way off. And if that was the case, he had time to calm himself down and settle back into normalcy. He only had eight more years to bid his time here in Red Creek and then he would be set free—it would be the Bentons’ turn in the feeding cycle.
    Eight years…that was all. Compared to the decades Saul had spent in hiding in this forsaken town, eight years was nothing. He could keep his cool for that long, even with blatant distractions like Lester Dobbs.
    Saul poured himself a glass of wine - the darkest, most bitter one he had been able to find online, with a finish that was almost like blood - and sat at his kitchen table. For reason he could not explain, his mind kept returning to the girl he had passed as he had sped away from Randy’s Roost. He had seen her around town a few times, but had never spoken to her.
    What concerned Saul was the look he had seen on her face. Had she seen the entire altercation with Lester? And if so, had the distance perhaps disguised some of altered state he felt when he dealt with Lester?
    Maybe that was why he thought he could sense The Guard on the river of the night. Maybe he had been seen. Even worse, maybe his power had been witnessed by that teenage girl and now his real identity was in trouble.
    With her alarmed face still in his mind, Saul sipped another mouthful of wine. The only real pleasure he took from it was that in a short eight years, his family would be freed for a time and this wine would pale in comparison to the blood that would flow in its place.
     

2
     
    Had Lester Dobbs known Saul’s true nature, he might not have made the stupid mistake that he and one of his gullible drinking buddies made that night. They had been at a distinct disadvantage from the start and had not even known it. They had both reeked of booze and Lester’s friend, an unfortunate man named Hank Dooling, was not the best at keeping quiet when he’d had too much to drink.
    Saul heard them when they were halfway down his driveway. The one called Hank was speaking in a loud rasp that was meant to be a whisper. Less than ten seconds later, Saul could smell the alcohol seeping from their pores. He smirked; beneath the stench of alcohol was an even more pungent, unmistakable scent – fear.
    Saul was sitting on his couch with a book when he heard them approaching. He glanced at the clock; 2:45 in the morning. He could only assume that Lester would think he’d be asleep at this hour  – he doubted the men would dare approach him awake and aware. Not after the spectacle he had put on today. With an annoyed roll of his eyes, Saul put