Dawn Brown - The Devil's Eye

“Shift first.” He pushed her hand into gear. “Give it some gas, then let off the clutch slowly, and when you feel the catch…There, feel it? Let out the clutch.”

Nodding, she did as instructed. The car rolled forward, and she turned out of the parking lot onto the road.

“Thanks.” The word stuck on her tongue.

He shrugged, attention fixed on the passing scenery through the glass. “I hoped to make it back to the house before morning.”

Zinged again. She tightened her grip on the steering wheel and focused on the road, determined to ignore him.

He shifted in his seat and dug an orange plastic pill vial from his pocket. After popping the lid, he shook two capsules into his hand and tossed them back, dry swallowing them.

“What were those?” The way her day was going, he was probably some pill-popping drug addict.

“Migraine,” he muttered, without looking at her as he slipped the bottle back into his pocket. The prescription label had been peeled off the vial, so what he’d taken was anyone’s guess.

How had she let herself get talked into this? She released a slow breath and focused on the road before her.

Fat snowflakes mingled with sleet pellets swept through the beams of her headlights like a moving wall. The clunk and swoosh of the windshield wipers the only noise in the otherwise silent car.

“Is the house far from here?”

“About fifteen minutes.”

Her stomach knotted. Fifteen minutes and she’d be meeting a family she hadn’t even known existed a week ago. She nipped at her bottom lip. A thousand questions churned inside her head. Why had her sister and father waited so long to contact her? Why had her grandparents lied to her all her life? And what had her mother been so afraid of in her letters?

She glanced at Reece again. His attention remained focused on the fields and trees through the window—little more than dark silhouettes against the rapidly darkening sky. Absently, he pushed his shaggy hair away from his face, exposing his profile. Despite the dangerous edge to his appearance, his features were interesting, attractive. High, broad forehead, straight nose, sharp ridge of cheekbone beneath chilly sea-blue eyes. Though right then his gaze didn’t look nearly as cold as it did in the pub. Instead, he appeared far away, lost in thought.

He didn’t look like any groundskeeper she knew—though, to be fair, she didn’t know any besides him. Still, weren’t groundskeepers old with wild hair, gnarled hands and weather-wrinkled skin?

As if sensing her stare, Reece sighed. “What?”

She turned back to the road. “How old are you?”

He frowned and finally glanced her way. “Why?”

“You don’t look like a groundskeeper.”

“I don’t?” He smirked.

“No. What did you do before you worked here?”

“Lots of things.” He tilted his head to one side and jutted out his chin. “What do you do?”

Evasion, surprise, surprise. “I’m an accountant at a holdings company.”

He snorted. “Figures.”

She probably didn’t want him to explain what he meant by that. “You never answered my questions.”

He pressed his lips together, but the corners of his mouth lifted as though he was struggling not to smile. “Maybe because you ask so bloody many.”

“I asked you two.”

He sighed loudly. “Fine. I’m thirty-one.”

“And what did you do before becoming a groundskeeper?”

He didn’t speak for a long moment. Brynn glanced away from the road to look at him. All traces of humor gone, his expression had turned dark. “You don’t want to know.”

“Oookay.” She turned her attention back to the rain-smeared windshield, silence settling between them once more. As the turn drew near, she let up off the gas and flipped the signal.

“That’s the wrong road.” The low tenor of Reece’s voice cut through the quiet. “You want the next one.”

“But the directions say…” She didn’t bother even attempting to pronounce the name. With twelve letters, six of them vowels, she’d butcher it for sure.

“The directions say Choedwig Basio, that’s Choedwig Ochra.” The Welsh words sounded lyrical and pleasant despite his harsh tone. “Had you taken the time to read the words, you might have found your way on your own.”

And not wound up trapped in a car with him. The man had a point.

“Tell me something,” she said. “Is it me specifically, or are you this pleasant with everyone?”

Ignoring her question, he nodded at the stone wall running alongside the road. “The gate posts are just ahead.”

She slowed the car and steered between two stone pillars on either side of a narrow dirt driveway. A tangle of leafless trees closed in around the car, skeletal branches scraping the sides and roof like bony fingers. The dull screech set her teeth on edge.

The trees to her right fell away abruptly and the ground dropped to a steep slope. Ocean, the same twilight blue as the sky, stretched out deep and infinite.

Her stomach fell like a stone off a cliff. Icy sweat sprang to her skin. She tried to swallow, but her mouth had gone dry. Her gaze stayed fixed on the terrifying expanse of water, and every muscle in her body seized. She couldn’t breathe.

For an instant, she could feel icy water stinging her skin. Taste the gritty, metallic flavor in her mouth. Her nose burned with the rush of frigid water into her sinuses and down her throat.

For an instant, she was drowning all over again.

Chapter Two

“What the hell?” Reece’s shout barely penetrated the fog wrapped around Brynn’s brain. He reached over and jerked the steering wheel sideways. The wall of trees on the opposite side of the drive rose up fast, and she stomped on the brake, seatbelt digging into her shoulder.

“Clutch!” Reece yelled.

She slammed her other foot on the small pedal, as Reece maneuvered the gearshift. The car jolted to a stop across the width of the drive, facing the tree-lined ridge.

At least she wasn’t looking at the sea anymore.

Brynn slumped against the seat, bile creeping up the back of her throat. She locked her jaw and squeezed her eyes shut. The last thing she wanted was to wind up doubled over emptying her stomach—and with an audience, no less.

“You nearly took us over the bloody cliff,” Reece snarled.

Even if she could have spoken without retching, she didn’t have a clue what to say. The minute her gaze had landed on the ocean, her brain ceased functioning. Her body had locked up except to steer where she looked.

She’d had panic attacks before when faced with large bodies of water, but she’d never shut down so completely. To be fair, she’d never come face-to-face with the place where her phobia had originated, either.

Cold dread curdled her insides. Had she made a mistake coming here? All those questions, maybe she was better off not knowing the answers.

Something brushed her stomach. She jerked back and opened her eyes. Reece reached across her lap.

“What are you doing?” she muttered, between clenched teeth.

“You’re white as death.” He pressed the button, lowering her window. Frigid air swept inside. The soft hush of the surf beating the shore filled her ears and a quiver rippled up her spine.

“Put your head down before you’re sick or pass out.” Reece pressed his hand to her back, forcing her to bend forward and to the side of the steering wheel. She might have argued, but she didn’t trust her insides enough to open her mouth.

Heat from his palm seeped through her knit jacket, warming her despite the wind gusting through the window. Brynn let out a slow breath, releasing some of the tension gripping her. She closed her eyes, dragged in another gulp of damp air. The pounding of her heart eased, and her breathing turned regular.