Page 9

W ith nothing better to do as I waited for the sun to set, I caught up on the rest of the notes Tom had made about Wyatt and Murray. There wasn’t much. Plenty of reports of violence, but nothing I didn’t already know about. And as for Adam – well, he was absent from history altogether it seemed. At least, the history we could dredge up on the internet. But there was nothing Tom couldn’t uncover – he’d find something, given time.

Flipping through pages of handwritten scribble, I realised that when Tom had described Isabel Wyatt as notorious, I’d assumed he was indulging his flare for drama. But even if she’d killed a few people a year, given the time she’d been alive, her body count was astronomical. And, of course, feeding once or twice a year wouldn’t be practical.

By the time four o’clock came around, my impatience was making me twitchy. The more I read, the more I couldn’t stand the inactivity. My ankle had healed enough to handle my chunkiest DMs, and I laced them up methodically as I watched the last of the daylight fade from the sky. Heavy purple clouds invaded the horizon as the sunlight faded away, and I could sense a huge storm gathering to the south.

The rain was just beginning to dance against the windscreen, and I was congratulating myself on my perfect timing – I’d be safely inside Solace’s before the real downpour hit – when my engine made a sickening grinding noise.

“Fuck,” I muttered, glancing at the dashboard. Nothing looked amiss, no warning lights to be seen, but the sound persisted. And my car wasn’t exactly a spring chicken.

I pulled over onto a quiet side street. I was only about halfway to my destination, and other than knowing where I had to get to, I was basically clueless. This wasn’t a neighbourhood I knew well – just a route that kept me on main roads while avoiding the dodgier parts of town. I thought there might be a hospital nearby, but my mental map wasn’t all that precise without the aid of Google.

I turned off the ignition, hoping that the old IT solution might work on cars too. Have you tried turning it off and on again? When I tried to restart, the engine made the same grinding noise, louder this time. I thumped the steering wheel.

At least I wasn’t actually at Solace’s yet. But I was too far from home to walk back – at least not in the pissing-it-down rain with no coat – and even further from the industrial district I was headed toward. My options were fairly limited: call Tom to come pick me up and deal with his lecture about my crappy vehicle; abandon the trip to Solace’s entirely; or try and fix it myself. None of them seemed particularly appealing.

I popped the bonnet and climbed out, wincing as the first drops of rain hit my face. I was only wearing a chunky green jumper, and it was far from weather-proof. The wind cut straight through the wool.

Staring down at the engine, it may as well have been a space rocket. My knowledge of cars was about as extensive as understanding where the oil went and how to top up my wiper fluid. Everything looked filthy, decrepit and as far as I could tell, normal.

“Car trouble, eh?”

I straightened so quickly I whacked my head on the bonnet. The lilt was unmistakable. Cole stood a few paces away, an ancient black leather jacket buttoned against the crappy weather, and his hair already damp from the increasing rain.

“It’s making a weird grinding noise when I try to start it,” I nodded. “What are you doing here?”

He tilted his head at me with a crooked smile. “Can I see?”

I stepped aside. “You can’t know any less than I do.”

Approaching, he ducked his head under the bonnet, unfastening his jacket and shrugging it off as he did so. The rain was falling more steadily now, soaking through my jumper. He held the jacket out to me, already taking in the engine with what seemed like a practised eye.

“Here, lass. Ye’ll catch your death in this weather.”

I hesitated, but another gust of wind made my decision for me. “Thanks.”

The jacket was far too big as I slipped it on, the sleeves falling past my fingers, but it was gloriously warm and buttery-soft against my skin. It smelled of him, too – the same earthy scent I’d noticed before, like the forest after a rainfall.

Cole bent over the engine, fiddling with something, now wearing only a long-sleeved white t-shirt that was rapidly becoming as soaked as my jumper. The rain plastered the fabric to his back, outlining the lean muscles beneath. As he leaned deeper in, I caught a glimpse of ink showing through the wet cotton – a tattoo of some kind curving around his ribs.

“Can ye try and start it again?” He called over his shoulder.

I slid back into the driver’s seat and turned the key. The grinding was even worse.

He listened intently, then gestured for me to turn it off. “Could be your drive belt,” he said, reaching further into the engine. “Sounds like it’s come loose. Might be worn too.”

I joined him at the front of the car, curious and sheltering my head under the bonnet. He didn’t look particularly worried. “Don’t tell me you can actually fix it?”

He chuckled. “Aye, I reckon I can.” He pushed up his sleeves, revealing strong forearms dusted with dark hair. “Tis only a temporary solution, mind. Ye’ll want to take it to a garage.”

I watched as he worked, struck by the confidence in his movements. His hands were large, but his long fingers were dexterous, navigating bits and pieces that meant nothing to me with complete ease. Water streamed down his face and back, but he didn’t seem to mind. The rain hitting the metal of the bonnet created a rhythmic pitter-patter, and mixed with the scent of engine oil and his distinctive smell, it all combined to make a surprisingly cosy environment. Standing in a downpour watching a near-stranger fix my car should have been weird, but something about his presence made it almost… comfortable.

“I didnae expect to see you again so soon,” he said quietly, without looking up from his work. “Though I cannae say I’m disappointed.”

I leaned against the car, tucking my hands into the oversized sleeves of his jacket. “You’re the one making a habit of turning up in unexpected places.”

A smile quirked his lips. “I work nearby. I heard your engine complainin’ and… well, when I saw you climb out I couldnae resist.” He glanced up, green-gold eyes sparkling with amusement despite the rain soaking his face. “And your wee car here has character. I felt sorry for it.”

“Is ‘character’ a polite way of saying ‘temperamental piece of crap?”

He laughed warmly. “Aye, mayhap it is. But there’s somethin’ honest about mechanical things. The new ones, electric and the like… they’re too damn quiet with their computers runnin’ everything – they dinnae have a soul in them, like this one does.” He patted what I thought was the engine with something like affection. “She might be temperamental, but she winnae shy away from tellin’ ye what’s wrong, either.”

“You know a lot about cars.” It wasn’t really a question.

“I ken what I need to. I’ve had to learn my share.” He reached for something deep within the engine compartment. “Do you have a spanner? ”

“I think so, in the boot.” I headed around to the back of the car and was careful to manoeuvre the toolbox out without too much noise – the last thing I needed was this hot, almost-stranger noticing that I kept a sword and a duffel bag full of weapons in my car. And I was too bloody damp to come up with an explanation for that on the fly, right now.

Bringing the toolbox around to him, I dug out the spanner and passed it over, our fingers brushing. Despite the chill, his touch sent warmth radiating up my arm. A tiny spark of something flared inside me, and my thoughts turned, unbidden, to the drawing of him, still in my satchel on the passenger seat. Why hadn’t I gotten rid of it? What if he saw it, somehow?

Almost bent in half, absorbed in his task, I barely heard him as he asked: “Did you wear the dress?”

It took me a moment to register what he meant. “Yeah, I did in the end.”

“And? Was it as terrible as ye thought?”

“No. And yes.” I pulled his jacket closer around me. “People commented about the suicide – and I couldn’t say anything, didn’t feel like I could—”

He glanced up, pausing what he was doing to assess me with that unusual emerald-gold gaze of his. “Would it have helped? If they’d known? It winnae ha’ brought him back, now, would it?”

I shook my head, and a small laugh escaped despite myself. “No, but it would have shut them up.”

Cole’s mouth quirked up into a half-smile. “Aye,” he murmured, returning to his work. “And well I ken that can be enough, sometimes.”

Nothing you could do would have been enough, Erin. Forget it.

I took a deep breath and huddled closer under the shelter of the bonnet. “So… engines. Have you always been interested in cars?” He might have been a relative stranger, but he didn’t have to be. I didn’t exactly have time for a relationship, but… something about him made me want to push for more.

He considered this, adjusting something I couldn’t see. “I like to ken how things work, so aye, I suppose you could say that. No just cars, mind. Technology’s come a long way, and I like to keep up. But I’ll admit, there’s more satisfaction in a-fixin’ a car.” He straightened, wiping his hands on his now completely transparent t-shirt. “You cannae fix a computer with just your hands and wit.”

Water streamed down his face, droplets catching in his eyelashes and the stubble along his jaw as he stepped back from the engine. “Can you pop round and try it again?” he asked.

I got back into the driver’s seat and turned the key. This time the car started smoothly – probably better than it had in months.

Relief washed over me. Climbing back out to thank him, I found him rubbing his hands together, as if to warm them. Despite his earlier nonchalance, he seemed to be shivering now.

“Thank you,” I said, trying to put my extreme gratitude into the two small words. “There was no way I could have fixed that, and Tom would have taken the piss if I’d called him…” I trailed off. “I’d basically have been stranded.”

“Twas my pleasure, lass.” His voice was rougher than before, either from the cold or… something else. “Though I warn ye, she needs to see a proper garage soon. That belt winnae last long.”

I started to remove his jacket. “Here – you should take this back – or do you need a lift?” I still needed to get to Solace’s, but a slight detour wouldn’t kill me. Probably.

He shook his head, dark rain-soaked waves of hair falling into his face before he pushed them back, smearing dirt across his temple as he did. “I’ll be fine, lass. You keep it for now.” His eyes held mine. “That way I have an excuse to see ye again, eh?”

There was something in the way he said it – a certainty that made my pulse quicken. Standing there in the rain, rivulets of water tracing the strong, sharp lines of his face, he was absolutely breathtaking. I should have been suspicious of how he’d just happened to be nearby – it hadn’t escaped my notice that he’d never answered my question – but instead of keeping my guard up, I was letting it down, instead. Get your shit together, Erin.

“But you’re soaked,” I said, stepping closer without quite meaning to. “Honestly, I’ll be in the car…”

“I’ve weathered worse.” The corner of his mouth lifted in a half-smile that made my chest ache. “Though I dinnae quite remember ever enjoying being caught in a storm quite so well.”

A bolt of lightning illuminated the darkening sky, followed by a rumble of thunder that seemed to shake the ground beneath us. Neither of us moved.

“You didnae say where you were headed,” he said softly.

“Just… meeting a friend.” The lie came easily, but his eyes narrowed slightly. I could already read him well enough to see he saw straight through it.

“Aye, well. I suppose we all have our secrets.” He reached out, almost absently, and tucked a strand of damp hair behind my ear. The gesture caught me off-guard, and I swallowed.

I stared at the smudge of engine oil by his hairline, dark against his pale skin. “You’ve got—” I gestured to my own face.

“Ah.” He tried to wipe it away but only managed to spread it further.

“Here.” I stepped closer, standing on my tiptoes to reach him and using my thumb to gently wipe away the streak. His skin was cool beneath the rainwater, and my fingertips lingered a moment too long without my consent, my entire body hyperaware of his every move. His eyes darkened almost imperceptibly, and for a second, I thought he might lean down toward me.

Thunder rumbled again, closer this time. I stepped back.

“I should get going,” I said. My voice wasn’t anywhere close to steady. What was it about this guy?

“Aye, the storm’s near upon us.” He closed the bonnet with a decisive thud. “Best no linger.”

As I moved to get back in the car, he caught my arm gently. “Be careful tonight,” he said, his voice low and serious. “There are things in the darkness on nights like this ye’d do well to avoid.”

I raised an eyebrow at him, but he didn’t elaborate. Was that a warning? Did he know something? Before I could decide, he released me with a slight bow of his head.

“Until next time, lass,” he said, already backing away .

I watched in the rearview mirror as he strolled away, tall and graceful despite his sodden clothes, until the darkness and rain swallowed him.

It wasn’t until I was nearly at Solace’s that I realised I was still wearing his jacket, the scent of him surrounding me like a cocoon. The worn leather had already absorbed some of my body heat, creating a strange intimacy, as if I were wrapped in his arms rather than just his clothing. I should have felt uncomfortable with the intrusion into my life, but instead, I found myself hoping he was right – that our paths would cross again, and soon.

Shaking my head, I forced myself to focus. There were more important things going on. I tightened my grip on the steering wheel, ignoring the lingering heat where his fingers had touched my skin.

Solace was waiting, and I had questions that needed answers.

***