Dawn Brown - The Devil's Eye

“Was it the height?” Reece’s tone was softer and slightly less combative than before.

She shook her head, but didn’t look at him. Heat stung her cheeks despite the chill. God, she must look crazy. “The water.”

“The water?”

The amused disbelief in his voice grated her already taut nerves. She sat up and his hand fell away. “A fear of water isn’t unusual, you know?”

“I suppose not, but someone suffering a fear of water visiting an island seems odd. Did you not know Ynys Mon was an island?”

“Of course I knew,” she snapped, wishing she didn’t sound so defensive.

He frowned. “How in the hell did you ever manage to fly across the ocean to get here?”

“I’m not afraid to fly.”

“You pitch a fit when you catch sight of the sea—”

“I did not pitch a fit!

“—but flying over it has no effect?”

“If the plane went down, I’d be dead when I hit the water. I wouldn’t have to worry about drowning.”

He stared at her like she’d sprouted another head.

She wished she could crawl under the seat. “Can we just go?”

“You tell me.”

She reached for the keys, but his hand wrapped around hers, warm and strong. Something fluttered low inside her. Just nerves.

“Maybe I should drive.” She opened her mouth to argue, but he cut her off. “Aside from not wanting to wind up crushed at the bottom of the cliff, God knows how bloody long it’ll take you to get turned around again.”

She just wanted this trip to end. “Fine.”

Reece didn’t give her a chance to change her mind. He got out of the car; she did likewise. They passed each other wordlessly as they rounded the back. She kept her gaze fixed on the muddy ground, refusing to allow herself a glance at those dark waves. Her breathing was still coming faster than normal. It wouldn’t take much to push her over the edge she clung to.

She collapsed into the passenger seat and tugged the belt over her shoulder. As if unable to help herself, she peeked at the slate water roiling and exploding against the shore. Her blood iced over, drained from her face. She squeezed her eyes closed.

The engine rumbled to life, low vibrations humming through her taut muscles. She felt the car roll slowly forward and curve back onto the drive.

“It still runs.” Reece said. “I was a bit worried you’d left the gearbox back there.”

“Ha, ha. You must have been a comedian before landing this job.”

“Not quite. Are you keeping your eyes closed to avoid looking at the water?” The image of those endless waves flashed across her mind and a shudder crawled over her skin. The question must have been rhetorical. He didn’t bother waiting for a reply. “You do realize Stonecliff overlooks the sea? Unless you plan on keeping your eyes closed your entire visit, you’ll likely have to look at it at some point during your stay.”

Didn’t she know it. Her reaction to open water hadn’t been this bad in years, but to be fair she usually made considerable effort to avoid lakes and oceans…rivers…paddling pools.

She’d be fine. She hadn’t expected to come upon the water when the car emerged from the trees. She’d just been caught off guard.

“You’re not about to go off again, are you?” Suspicion laced his deep voice.

“I’m ignoring you.”

He snorted, and she cracked an eye risking a peek at him. Even with only the faint glow of the dash lights, she could make out his grin. His entire face changed when he smiled like that, those granite features softening. The flutter in her belly returned.

As if sensing her gaze, he lifted his chin toward the windshield. “There’s the house.”

She opened both eyes and looked straight ahead. A hulking outline materialized from the gloom. The manor sat atop a large plateau overlooking the sea. At the rocky edge, the ground sloped steeply toward the water. A thick tangle of forest hemmed in the house at the back.

She held her breath, waiting for some hint of recognition, some spark of memory.

Nothing, only shivery unease.

Reece pulled into a large courtyard, driving past an ancient coach house, and parking her rental in front the manor before cutting the engine. Silence wrapped around them, except for the rain beating crazily on the car’s roof.

“Ready?” he asked.

Not even close. But she swallowed hard and nodded, anyway.

Brynn opened the car door and stepped out. Wind gusted, spraying her with freezing rain and wet snow. She kept her attention fixed on the ground to avoid looking at the water. For all the good it did with the brine thick in the air and the rush of the surf pounding the shore below.

She met Reece at the rear of the car, took back her keys and opened the trunk. As she hauled her carry-on bag onto her shoulder, Reece lifted out her suitcase.

“You don’t have to take that. I can manage,” she told him, quickly.

He rolled his eyes. “Believe me, I do.”

He started for the manor. Brynn slammed the trunk closed and hurried after him, but her gaze locked on the house. Stone walls, black from the wet weather, gleamed despite the darkness. Lights from two second-floor windows on either side of the vestibule glowed like yellow eyes over a dark, cavernous mouth.

Don’t go in there. The thought popped into her head, bringing with it an irrational swell of fear. Her breath hitched and she froze midstep.

“What are you doing now?” Reece’s exasperated voice dragged her attention to his scowl.

“Nothing.” She had to pull herself together. She’d already made an ass of herself in front of him once today. She’d really like to at least get inside with some shred of dignity in place.

She swallowed the coppery taste in her mouth and forced her feet forward, following Reece beneath the archway of the darkened vestibule. He opened the heavy oak door, moved aside and allowed her to go in first.

The wild panic surging through her vanished the moment she stepped into the warm hallway. Tiny prisms of color cast through dangling crystals on the intricate chandelier above danced over the patterned tile floor. Her gaze swept over the space, from the square staircase with a thick wooden banister, to the faded wallpaper and antique pieces of furniture.

There was nothing frightening, nothing menacing, just a sense of worn elegance.

Slowly, her heart settled into a normal rhythm and a wave of exhaustion rolled over her. Maybe bouts of paranoia were common in cases of extreme jet lag.

The door behind her closed with a solid thunk. Her face heated. She must look like some high-strung neurotic. Though, after today, maybe she was.

“Lord all mighty, Reece Conway. What can you be thinking?” A woman’s shrill voice broke into her thoughts. Brynn looked up at a tiny, ferret-faced woman storming down the stairs. The hem of her navy skirt brushed her calves, hissing against her thick beige hose with each step. “You’re not to be bringing your strumpets back here.”

Disdain curled the woman’s thin mouth as her nearly black gaze swept Brynn from foot to head.

Brynn turned to Reece. Did he bring a lot of women back here? What difference did it make? She didn’t even like the man, and he certainly wasn’t her type. He reminded her of those boys from high school with their ripped jeans and leather jackets. The kind of boys her grandparents would have grounded her for life if she had ever shown an interest in.

“You shouldn’t jump to conclusions,” Reece said, flashing a hard smile. “Ms. James is Eleri’s guest, not mine. Maybe you ought to fetch her and tell her that her sister has arrived.”

The woman’s close-set eyes narrowed, high-arced brows pulling into a confused frown. Her gaze bounced from Reece to Brynn. “It can’t be.”