“Agreed. I don’t think I can handle more magic tonight, anyway, and I’ve got a good lead for us to follow.”
As long as there was a storm threatening, I couldn’t think about my curse. I was more concerned with getting her to safety. I grabbed her hand and pulled her along. “Let’s go.”
We hurried from the clearing, and she released my hand to more easily navigate down the narrow path that led to the dock. The wind whipped up as we ran, and I kept my eye on the storm, which rolled closer with every minute. We were nearly to the dock when Isobel tripped on a loose rock. She stumbled and fell, crying out.
“Isobel!” Fear lanced me once again, and I knelt by her side. “What hurts?”
“My ankle.” She pointed to her right ankle, her face scrunched in pain.
“I’m going to pick you up.” Before she could protest, I swept her into my arms and raced for the boat. The scent of rain grew heavier in the air, and I knew the storm was only a few miles away.
“Will we make it back in time?” she asked as I stepped onto the deck and lowered her to the bench on the starboard side of the cockpit.
I looked at the lightning that cracked in the distance, counting the seconds before I heard the thunder. “We should, just barely.”
“Good. Those houses didn’t look sound,” she said, glancing up the steep hill to where they sat.
I untied the lines and tossed them aboard, then turned on the engine and piloted us away from the dock. I’d memorized the route around the rocks and was able to go much faster as we left the island.
“Put on the life jacket,” I said, nodding to where it sat next to her.
“You put yours on, too.” She donned hers, and I did the same, liking that she’d insisted. I didn’t have a memory of a time when someone had cared about me, and it was strange. But nice.
The waves were picking up as I sped back to shore, pushing the engine to its limit. There was just enough wind that I could assist the motor with the foresail, and we made excellent time. All the same, rain began to fall as we neared the harbor, and the heavy droplets soaked us in seconds.
“You can go in the cabin!” I shouted over the roar of the deluge.
“I’m fine!” She huddled away from the rain.
She wasn’t fine, obviously. But it was more likely that she didn’t want to attempt climbing down into the cabin with her bad ankle. I wished I could help her, but the storm was really on our tail now, with the wind whipping hard enough that I had to lower the foresail immediately. It would take all my focus to get us back to the harbor safely.
Isobel hung onto the side of the boat as the waves buffeted the hull. As soon as we reached the protected waters behind the jetty, relief rushed through me.
We were safe.
Assuming we didn’t get struck by lighting. The storm was still a couple miles off, however, and we made it back to my slip in one piece.
“Stay there,” I said as I pulled alongside the dock and hopped off to take care of the lines. “I’ll get you when we’re tied off.”
“I’m fine. I can walk.” She rose, then winced.
“You can’t, so sit down.” My voice cracked with command, and she did as I said.
I had the boat tied off in seconds, then returned to the cockpit to lift her. She wrapped her arms around my neck, and I cradled her against my chest as I stepped onto the dock.
“Don’t you want to put the cushions back in the cabin?” she asked, massive raindrops splattering on her face.
I laughed at the idea of worrying about cushions right now. “No. We’re going.”
She smiled up at me, and even in the deluge that drenched her, she was still somehow the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen.
I ran toward the car, then set her down on the seat as gently as I could before shutting the door and hurrying to my side. Once I’d closed us into the car, the lack of rain and wind was profound.
Isobel heaved out a breath, then began to shiver. Shit, was she going into shock? “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, just cold.”
I turned on the heater, letting it blast over us. “How’s your ankle?”
“Hurts, but I’ll live.”
“We’re only ten minutes from the boathouse, and I can call a healer to meet us there.”
“It’s just a bit sprained. No need for a healer. All I really want is a hot bath.”
“Humor me.” I sent a quick text to the Katia, the healer I’d met when I’d first moved to town, then started the drive toward home.
The weather worsened, and rain lashed the windscreen as I slowed to a crawl through town, afraid that someone might dart in front of the car on their way to shelter. By the time I pulled up to the boathouse, Isobel’s teeth were chattering. I parked as close to the door as I could, then helped her out, sweeping her into my arms before rushing her into the warm boathouse.
She laughed as I slammed the door behind us. “This is all a bit dramatic, isn’t it?”
“Hardly. You’re white as a sheet.”
“Goes with my Victorian murder ghost persona.”
“It was lunatic Victorian ghost, actually.” I’d never forget the ridiculous thing I’d called her when I’d first seen her. “And yes, it does suit that. But I’m going to take you upstairs now.”
“Good. I could use a cup of tea and a bath.”
“Coming right up.” I took the stairs two at a time, then deposited her gently on the floral couch in the living room. For all the work we’d done up at Lavender House, she hadn’t touched a single thing in the flat. Every surface was still covered in knickknacks, so many that it made my skin crawl.
Isobel must have caught me looking at them because she said, “Poa won’t let me remove them. She loves the attention of all those little eyes. They’re creepy, though.” She gave a little shudder.
I looked at the figurines on every table and had to agree with Isobel—it was very eerie the way they stared. “I’ll check on the healer’s progress while I brew the tea. Don’t move.”
“I’m fine. I don’t need a healer.” She sounded exasperated, but she didn’t move.
I pulled my phone from my pocket as I walked to the kitchen and put the kettle on. Katia had responded that she’d be by in twenty, and we were nearly to that mark. I typed out a quick response telling her to let herself in and come up to the flat, then turned my attention to making tea. By the time I carried the cups to the living room, Katia was knocking on the door at the top of the stairs.
“Come in,” Isobel called.
Katia, who was somewhere in her mid-forties and ran the health clinic in town, was wrapped up in a hooded floor-length raincoat. She pushed the hood back from her hair and smiled, but there were shadows under her eyes that made her look tired. “What’s the emergency?”
“Not an emergency,” Isobel said. “I twisted my ankle, and Rafe freaked out.”
“Well, let me check it.” Katia walked closer, then knelt on the floor by Isobel’s ankle, which she had propped on the couch next to her. She’d taken off her boot, and her socks had kittens printed all over them. It was almost ridiculously cute. Katia held her hand over Isobel’s ankle. “May I?”