The Witch of Stonecliff (14 page)

Kyle sank into the chair—a braver man than her—and a cloud of dust poofed up around him. He squinted and waved away the motes before asking, “You said you remembered me from before. Do you remember speaking to me at The Iron Kettle? The last time, before I left the village?”

Grady nodded. “When they took you?”

Eleri’s insides shrivelled and slid to her shoes. Kyle paled, but his features remained stoic. “That’s right, the night they took me. Do you remember the woman I left with? Did you know her? Maybe you’d seen her before, or since.”

Grady’s forehead wrinkled, wiry brows pulling together in deep concentration. He shook his head slowly. “Don’t remember her, really. So I probably hadn’t seen her before that night.”

“Are you sure?” Kyle leaned toward the other man, his gaze intent, his mouth tight. “Try to remember. We’d been in the booth nearest the fireplace—”

“I remember that. You were both pissed out of your heads when you left. She nearly fell by the door. Steve followed you out, though.”

“Steve Paskin?” Kyle asked.

Eleri tensed, cold prickling her skin.

“That’s right. You were both too far gone to drive. He must have arranged for you to get back to the inn.”

Except Kyle never made it back to the inn. What happened to the woman he was with?

“You’re sure it was Stephen Paskin? Did anyone else go out or come in around the same time?” Kyle must have been desperate. The man was a piss head. The idea that he could remember what he did yesterday was reaching, never mind two years ago.

“No.” Grady shook his head, tangled gray curls sweeping back and forth, bleary, colorless eyes imploring. “Just Steve. He was gone for quite a bit before he came back. I suppose he’d called a taxi and waited to be sure you didn’t try to drive yourselves.”

“You remember quite a bit about something that happened two years ago,” Eleri cut in. “Why would Mr. Peirs’s uneventful departure have stayed with you all this time?”

“Wasn’t exactly uneventful.” Grady chuckled, until his gaze met hers and he sobered instantly. His knee started to bounce. “Him and the blonde were loud and laughing, all over each other and nearly falling on their asses. Not that I judge, mind you.” Grady nodded at Kyle, jabbing a gnarled finger at him. “We all have one too many now and again, me an’ all. I wouldn’t judge you, lad.”

“You remember Mr. Peirs and his companion made a scene?” She supposed it was possible provided Grady wasn’t too drunk yet himself.

“And police coming to question me about Mr. Peirs the next day.”

“Detective Harding spoke to you?” Kyle asked, frowning.

“Naw, the other one, but he was just a constable at the time.”

He must have meant Miller, Harding’s smarmy partner.

“I knew that the witch had…” Grady’s voice trailed away as though he suddenly remembered who he was speaking to. His gaze slid to her, she stared back at him impassively. “I’m sorry. I know it’s not your fault. It’s the evil in that place. I’ve seen it, you know. Black as night, red eyes that burn into your soul.”

Her stomach slid to her shoes. She grasped the wall before her numb legs crumpled beneath.

“I’ve seen it,” Grady continued. “Looked into the red hell and seen the devil himself.”

“Eleri?” Kyle’s voice dragged her attention from burning intensity in the other man’s pale gaze to the concern etched into Kyle’s bony features.

“I want to go.” She swallowed hard. “I want to go now.”

* * *

Kyle followed Eleri out of the dank cottage. Clean air hit him like an invisible wall. He dragged in a deep breath, hoping to chase away the fetid stink lodged in his sinuses.

Eleri didn’t slow, her quick strides eating the short distance to the car, and Kyle hurried after her. He caught her sleeve as she reached for the door handle. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” She pulled away from his touch, shrunk back against the side of the car. “I couldn’t listen anymore. He didn’t have anything useful anyway.”

Kyle opened the door for her, and she slid onto the passenger seat. “Not everything he said was useless.”

Eleri stared straight ahead, face drawn. “I can’t go with you to speak to Stephen Paskin.”

“I know.” He closed the door, walked around the front of the car and climbed in behind the wheel. He had no idea what exactly he’d interrupted between Paskin and Eleri, but he didn’t want her anywhere near the man.

“You shouldn’t have gone up against Paskin,” Eleri said, without looking at him, her gaze fixed on the rundown cottage. “You’ll have a harder time getting him to help you now.”

She must really think him a prick, but why wouldn’t she? She hadn’t worked out that his threats to lie to police were a bluff, and after the way he played with her fear, used it, and that wasn’t even taking into account how he’d torpedoed her life two years ago, he certainly hadn’t given her reason to believe otherwise. “I don’t bloody care if Paskin can give me a minute by minute itinerary of that night. I wouldn’t change what I did.”

“You should care,” she muttered, turning her dark gaze on him. “He’s quite likely the only one who can tell you what happened to that woman.”

Kyle started the car and pulled away from the cottage. Once on the main road, he risked a glance at her. With her attention fixed on the passing scenery through the passenger window, he couldn’t see her face to gauge her expression.

“I’m sorry about yesterday,” he blurted.

She turned his way, a frown pulling her delicately arched brows together.

“Trying to frighten you into keeping quiet about me,” he elaborated when she didn’t say anything. “It was stupid and selfish. I wouldn’t have really gone to the police, either. It was a bluff.”

“Really?” Her brows rose. “You were convincing.”

He swallowed hard. Maybe she’d been right all along about him. Jack wasn’t dead, he was still inside him, dormant, but ready to emerge at the first opportunity. The first time Kyle didn’t get what he wanted, Jack stepped in to mow down anyone who got in his way. “I know, but I wouldn’t have. I was just stalling for time.”

“Why?”

He glanced at her again; her dark eyes bored into him, narrowed and suspicious. “The less people who know who I am, the easier I can gather—”

“Not that,” she cut in, shaking her head. “Why not go to the police? You believed I was guilty yesterday.”

He focused on the road ahead. “I wasn’t sure if you were involved or not. I’ve had my doubts about you for a while, if I’m honest. There were at least three people at The Eye that night. Why are you the only one falling under suspicion if you were one of them? Maybe you’re a convenient smoke screen for the person with the most to say against you.”

“Detective Harding?”

“He’d be in a position to manipulate evidence. He didn’t even consider my version of events after I was attacked.”

“You really think he’s involved?” she asked, incredulous.

“I’m not ruling anything out. Let’s go back to the lodge, we can regroup, decide on our next step.”

“No, drop me at Stonecliff. I’ve had enough for one day. I’ll come to the lodge tomorrow morning.”

He didn’t argue. Maybe some time apart would be good. The longer he spent with her, the stronger his urge to smooth out the vertical frown line between her brow, to let his fingers trail over her soft skin, which was stupid, of course. She thought he was the world’s biggest prat—with good reason—and if his break up with Leigh had taught him anything, the attack at The Devil’s Eye had left him hollowed out inside with nothing to give anyone.

His and Eleri’s arrangement was a means to an end, nothing more. Still, a dull hunger he hadn’t felt in ages gnawed inside him with ragged little teeth.

He slowed the car as he approached Stonecliff’s drive.

“Let me out here,” she told him.

“I can drop you at the house.”

She shook her head. “It’s better for both of us if we’re seen together as little as possible. Pull over here.”

He sighed but did as she asked. “How will we manage that working together the way we planned? And might I remind you we were together just now with Grady. I’m fairly certain he’ll be telling anyone who will listen at The Iron Kettle, and Mrs. Voyle saw us together this morning.”

She shifted in her seat so she faced him. “We shouldn’t have gone together. Hopefully, people won’t pay Grady’s stories any attention.”

“Eleri—”

“You already have a target on you. If people know you’ve been spending time with me, it just makes it easier for you to vanish and for me to take the blame.”

“If I vanish, you’ll take the blame whether we spend time together or not.”

Her skin paled, her throat jumped and Kyle could have kicked his own ass. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that.”

She dropped her gaze and gripped the door handle. “You’re right. It’s true.”

“Listen to me.” He cupped her face and gently forced her to meet his gaze. “We’re going to find those answers, and we’ll both be free.”

Then for no good reason at all, he closed his mouth over hers, tasting her the way he’d wanted to since the last time he’d kissed her. And she responded, her lips drawing on his, sweetly, tentatively.

Her hands slid over his chest, fingers curling into his jacket. A shudder rippled through him and his mind blanked, his single coherent thought: more.

The hands on his chest loosened their grip and pushed as she tore her mouth from his. “Stop.”

One word, spoken on a breathy whisper blew through him like an icy wind. He eased back, but couldn’t look at her. What in the hell had he been thinking?

“You don’t have to do that. I’m not backing out of our arrangement.”

He jerked his gaze back to her, but she was already slipping out of the car. She slammed the door closed and hurried down the drive without a backward glance. He stared after her until she disappeared between the trees then dropped his forehead to the steering wheel and let out the breath he’d been holding.

She believed he’d kissed her to manipulate her. Why wouldn’t she? He’d already done so once before.

Why had he kissed her just now?

Because he’d wanted to. Since she’d gone with him to The Devil’s Eye and he’d noticed how delicate her small features were, how pretty she was when she stopped scowling.

Good thing she’d stopped him. His feelings for her were complicated enough without throwing whatever had just happened into the mix.

They were a means to an end for each other, and he wouldn’t let himself jeopardize that again.

* * *

Eleri slipped inside Stonecliff, closing the door behind her as quietly as possible. She didn’t want to see or speak to anyone, just get to her room where she could be alone. Her mouth still tingled with the imprint of Kyle’s kiss. A dull pulse beat at her core, leaving her edgy, restless.

The man shouldn’t be able to make her feel that way, not knowing who he was. Maybe his apology in the car had caught her off guard, letting her believe for a moment that he was sincere, but if kissing her proved anything, it simply hammered home just what he was willing to do to keep her on his side.

Whatever her mixed-up feelings for Kyle were, at least they were distracting her from that bizarre conversation with Thomas Grady. Had he really seen the shadow man that had terrorized her since childhood? Brynn saw it, Reece, too, so why not Grady? But why didn’t Mrs. Voyle, Warlow or even her father see it?

She started for the stairs, but the click of the study door opening stopped her. She tightened her grip on the banister. She’d been so close.

“You’re back.” Hugh’s voice boomed.

Eleri’s shoulders sagged and she turned to face the man. His light blue gaze bore into her like twin lasers.

“Mrs. Voyle tells me you were with Mr. Peirs today.” His nostrils flared slightly, the same way they did when she brought up Reece’s name.

She rubbed her forehead, wishing the man would go away. She didn’t owe him an explanation. She was a grown woman and he was her father’s butler. “What of it?”

“You need to stay away from that man.”

She stiffened. “If he’s not concerned that I might dump him into The Devil’s Eye, then you shouldn’t be either.”

She turned away and started up the stairs.

“You were right,” Warlow called after her. “I’m afraid I owe you an apology.”

Eleri stopped walking and faced the man. “We should mark the occasion on the calendar.”

The look he shot her was less than amused. “I do listen to you, you know. Even if it feels as though I don’t.”

“What precisely did you listen to me about?”

“I did some investigating into Mr. Peirs.”

Eleri’s stomach shrivelled. “Oh?”

“I’ve made a terrible error in judgement. Kyle Peirs is actually a reporter, and he’s been here before, only back then he was using the name Jamison Peirs. Do you remember him?”

As if The Witch of Stonecliff could forget the man who brought her such notoriety. She nodded.

“I’m going tell him to get out, tear up the lease.”

Her heart rate quickened. “Let’s not do anything rash.”

Warlow’s eyes narrowed. “What can you be thinking, Eleri? You must realize he’s using you for his own ends.”

“He’s still writing for that magazine, then?” Eleri asked.

He stepped toward her. “Whether he is or isn’t, doesn’t matter. He could be here writing a book—a book about you.”

“Anything’s possible, but he’s signed the lease—”

“Under false pretenses.”

She shrugged. “If he fought us on it, we’d simply draw more unwanted attention. I’d look like I was trying to hide something. Let him stay.”

“Have you forgotten the wild tales he printed about you?”

“Book or no book, it won’t matter. By the time it comes out, it’ll have no bearing on the investigation going on now. Besides, if I wind up in prison, I’ll have more to worry about than a bloody book.”

* * *

Eleri jerked awake, a vague sense of unease gripping her. She blinked in the darkness while her muddled mind tried to process what had woken her, what felt off.

Her gaze swept the pitch black room and her insides froze.

Why was her room dark? She couldn’t even see the outline of the furniture. Cool sweat slicked her skin. She never went to bed without leaving a light on. Shadows haunted the darkness, and she did everything she could to keep them at bay.