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Apparently I didn’t even merit a name. “Is he always this difficult, or am I just lucky?” I addressed the question to Della, but it was Rafe who gave a snort of disgust. He strode up the beach and disappeared into the shadows surrounding the tower.
“He’s had to deal with more than you can guess,” Della said quietly. There was no judgement in her voice, yet still I felt chastened.
“He maintained his composure better than I’d anticipated. Stevenson and his lady friend Mrs. Morrison were just…” I searched for an appropriate word. “Inexperienced, you might say. They didn’t recognize real power when it sat across the table from them. You poke a bear enough times, you’re going to see his claws.”
She gave me a faint smile. “That’s what I was afraid of.”
“They did say one odd thing. They said they knew Martin’s secret, and they implied they’d come for it.”
Her smile faded and her gaze frosted over. “Martin’s only secret was that he practiced earth magic, and if they come to take that, well, I wish them luck.”
She spoke firmly, leaving me alone on the beach. I needed time to think, to create order out of all the day’s experiences. Judging that I had a few minutes before Della called us to dinner, I headed for the tower.
I wanted to stand out on the widow’s walk that encircled the light, to watch the waves and hear the sea birds shriek and squabble. Never been much for introspection, but it felt like time to start a new habit.
Opening the door, I stood for a moment, listening to the silence. Wherever Rafe had gone, I didn’t hear him here, so I entered and climbed the stairs. One the way by, I checked the light’s mechanism. The cables at the bottom of the box moved slowly down, as if something pulled them from the lower floor.
I came out on the top level. The light flashed, temporarily blinding me. When I could see again, I noted someone out on the widow’s walk.
Damn. I debated going back downstairs. The profile was masculine, which eliminated Margaret from the list of possibilities. So, Rafe then. I debated whether to turn around, but my need for companionship won out. I circled the light, squinting when it flashed in my direction, and stepped through the door onto the widows walk.
Though I’d lost Rafe in the glare of the light, I spoke up. “Apologies for following you. That wasn’t my intent.”
He did not respond.
The glare faded so that I could distinguish light from shadow. Rafe was several feet away from me, looking out over the ocean. I looked more closely. There was something off about his posture. “Rafe?”
Still no answer, though this time the figure turned in my direction. The light flashed and for a moment I could see nothing. Still, I eased back a step, acting on instinct more than anything else. When the glare faded, the figure was much closer. Close enough to touch.
It was not Rafe.
He was shorter, this silent man, and dressed in a fine black suit. A strip of linen had been tied around his head to keep his jaw closed, and instead of eyes, he had two copper coins.
Fear made my muscles tense as every impulse told me to run. I could not run. I could not move. The figure drifted toward me and raised his arm. Instead of a hand, he had a blackened claw.
My breath coming in ragged gasps, I forced myself to take another step back. This time I reached the door frame. The figure stopped moving. Slowly, he came apart, strands of his image peeling off. Those strands coiled on the wooden deck, writhing like a clutch of baby snakes under a rock.
Then those snakes stilled, as if they’d heard a wordless call. Fear blotted out conscious thought when those snakes turned as one in my direction. They began to glide in my direction. From some base, animal part of me came one command.
Run.
My body finally responded. I dashed through the door, around the light, and down the stairs. Heedless of anything but escape, I failed to notice Rafe until I plowed into him.
He caught my arms, keeping me upright. “What?” His glasses had been knocked askew by the impact and for a moment I was trapped in his black, black stare.
“There was”—I coughed into my fist, dragging more air into my lungs—“something. Someone. He turned into snakes.”
Rafe’s turned his attention to the stairs. “Someone?”
“There…he…there were coins where his eyes should be.”
Apparently satisfied that I would remain upright, he gave my arms a squeeze and released me. “Go back to the house. Mother has some brandy.” He settled his glasses in place, but not before I caught a flash of concern. “She’ll take care of you, and I’ll have a look around.”
“What? Who?” I still couldn’t make any sense of what had just happened, though my body made note of his concern and warmth of his hands on my arms.
“Go. I need to reinforce the spell.”
Whether justified or not, his confidence reassured me. With the feel of his touch lingering, I left the tower and headed for the house.
