Watcher: A raven paranormal romance (Crookshollow ravens Book 1) (12 page)

After we’d washed the last of the dishes, Cole told me to go upstairs and change into something comfortable. I found a pair of black jeans and a red shirt that didn’t smell too badly of flour, and went back downstairs to meet him just as he was wiping down the last of the kitchen.

I locked up just as a car pulled up out front. It was a tiny Fiat, and I could see the faint outline of a man sitting in the front seat. My stomach flip-flopped. Should I be nervous? Am I in danger? I locked up the shop and walked apprehensively toward the vehicle. Cole held open the door for me. “This is us,” he said. “Hurry up, get inside.”

Nervously, I slid into the backseat. The driver turned around and gave me the thumbs up. To my surprise, I recognised Mikael from the pub. Around his index finger was a black ring, identical to Cole’s.

“Are you going rogue, too?” I asked him, but he didn’t reply.

Cole climbed into the passenger seat and gave Mikael some directions. Mikael nodded, and gunned the engine. We tore away from the bakery and down the high street. Soon we were speeding through the quiet streets of terraced houses, heading toward the edge of the village.

“We weren’t followed?” Mikael said, in his flat Scandinavian voice.

“I don’t think so,” Cole replied. I peered out of the back window, but couldn’t see any cars or bikes behind us that followed the same route.

“You don’t sound so sure?”

“No, I’m sure.”

“Fine.” Silence ensued. I stared down at my hands, nervously knitting and unknitting my fingers, a hundred unanswered questions tugging at my lips. We drove further and further out of the village, and turned off on to a dark country lane. I didn’t recognise the area at all. Cole fired instructions at Mikael – “left here, right here,” – and we kept driving, further and further from the village, until there were no houses at all, just rolling fields and in the distance, the looming darkness of the forest.

Mikael pulled over just at the edge of the forest, in an area that was designated as a public right of way, but the overgrown hedgerows and rubbish collecting at the edges suggested it was seldom used. I got out of the car and leaned against the door, wondering what would happen next. Cole hiked through the bushes for a few minutes, leaving me to stand in silence next to Mikael. Cole returned dragging a large motorbike.

“Thank you,” he shook Mikael’s hand. “Any luck with the other thing?”

“The witch is still not answering her phone, and when I knocked on her door there was no reply. The house looks derelict, as though it’s been vacant for years, but that’s not necessarily an indicator of anything. I’ve left a message with the woman, Clara, who runs the witchcraft store, Astarte. She knows every witch in Loamshire. She will make contact for you and leave a message at the witch’s cemetery if a suitable witch can be reached.”

“Thank you, Mikael. All debts have now been paid.” Cole tapped his ring. ”I’ll come back for you if I can figure out how to break this thing.”

Mikael nodded, turned, and slid back into his car. Without another word, Mikael drove off into the gloom, leaving us completely alone on the edge of that great, dense forest.

“Scandinavians,” Cole grinned. “You’ve gotta love them.”

Cole bent down and started to fiddle with the bike. I crossed my hands over my chest, wishing I’d thought to bring a jacket. I hadn’t realised we’d be going so far out of the village. Out here amongst the trees, the wind was biting cold. I checked my phone screen. It was close to 7:30pm. “We’re going to be late for supper,” I told Cole.

“Only a little longer, Nightingale.”

The trees rustled behind us. I spun around, searching the darkness for any sign of movement.
It’s just an animal, a deer or a rabbit or ...

Cole grabbed my arm. “Get behind me,” he hissed. Numb with cold and terror, I stepped behind him, struggling to see into the blackness. Getting a brainwave, I pulled my phone out again and turned the screen on, shining the light at the trees in front of us.

“Turn that off!” Cole hissed.

Before I could comply, a shadowy figure stepped out of the shadows. His deep voice cut through the still night like a knife. “Hi Cole,” he said, then turned to me. “Hello, Cole’s latest conquest.”

The shadow stepped into the light, and I recognised him instantly. It was the biker who had come into the shop earlier today, the one Cole had been angry at and refused to talk to. In the light of my phone he looked even more like Cole, with a strand of black hair flopping over one eye. He wore a black t-shirt that revealed muscled shoulders and arms covered in tattoos.

“Byron.” Cole pushed me further behind him, as if he were trying to hide my presence with his bulk. “You shouldn’t be here. Why are you following me?”

“You didn’t think I’d just abandon you.” Byron kicked the edge of the bike’s tyre with his boot. “It’s because of me that you’re still alive.”

“It is not.”

“I saw you hiding under that tree, but I told Pax I thought you’d fallen in the water. If it weren’t for me they would have torn you to pieces.”

“Fine,” Cole gritted his teeth. “Thanks for lying for me. I know it couldn’t have been easy, since you find lying so difficult.” Sarcasm dripped from his voice. “There. We’re even. You can leave us alone now.”

“Don’t be stupid, Cole. I’ve come to help you. Why can’t you listen to me?”

“Because your help is going to get us both killed!” Cole shouted. He must have realised that was a bad idea, for when he spoke again, he’d lowered his voice. “This is what you do. You swoop in here like you’re Odin’s gift to the world and start trying to run the show. Well, I’m not part of the roost anymore, I don’t have to step in line. The sooner you accept that, the sooner I’ll be civil.”

“And the sooner
you
accept that you’ve made a huge mistake, we can figure out how to save your arse from your own stupidity. You’re not a rogue yet, and until you are, you’re my responsibility. If I managed to track you back to that bakery, it won’t be long before the Morchards or Gillespies do the same thing. You’re such an idiot, Cole. You should be miles away by now. You’ve put this girl in danger by hanging around, by introducing her to our world.”

“That
girl
saved my life,” Cole snarled back. “And like it or not, she’s involved now. I need to stay near her, to protect her.”

“How are you going to protect anyone? You must be incredibly weak by now, from the bond. I know you were there last night. You saw what Gillespie did to poor Harry, just because he’d discovered you had gone missing. Either Morchard finds you, and you’re dead, or Gillespie finds you and then you going to
wish
you were dead.”

As Byron talked, I watched Cole’s face.
What did Byron mean by “you were there last night”? Cole was asleep on my couch last night. He wasn’t anywhere near the Morchard castle. Is this Byron mistaken? And who is this Harry? That was the name on the note. Cole knows Harry is dead because of the note, but then—

“I have a plan,” Cole said, yanking the bike upright and swinging one leg over. Even in the gloom, I could see that his face burned with rage.

“And that plan involves you riding out of here on that shitty thing with the girl on the back, yes?” Byron laughed. “You’re so utterly predictable. I knew you wouldn’t be able to last long without your bike, so I came here to wait for you. But it could have just as easily been Pax and Poe waiting here for you, or someone much, much worse. For the world’s most intelligent bird, you’re not very bright.”

“I have it all under control, Byron. If you can keep your mouth and your mind shut, we will be fine. Go back to the castle and pretend everything is normal. You’re good at that.”

“You’re never going to forgive me for what happened, are you?” Byron tipped his head to the side. “Seriously Cole, this fixation you have with your mother is unhealthy. Maybe you should see a psychiatrist.”

“And you should talk to a suicide helpline, since apparently you have a death wish.” Cole gunned the engine. He yelled over the roar. “Don’t you ever mention her in my presence again.”

What happened to Cole’s mother?
I stared from Cole to Byron and back again, trying to make some sense of their rapid-fire argument.

I glanced at Cole. I was starting to feel pretty angry myself. There were so many details here that I didn’t know, that Cole hadn’t bothered to fill in. And – as this Byron so eloquently said – I was the one whose life was in danger. Why did Cole feel I didn’t need to know these things?

“Cole, I think we need to talk—” I started to say, but Cole held up his hand to silence me.
That
pissed me off. I snapped my mouth shut, biting back the urge to say something.

Byron stepped forward, crossing his arms over his broad chest. “He’s coming after you next, Cole. Even if Victor has given you up for dead, Sir Thomas is nearby, and his going to make damn sure you don’t escape. And now you’ve got
her
involved,” Byron indicated me with a short dip of his head. “What’s the great scheme to get yourself out of this mess? Or have you jumped first and are planning to figure it out later, like always.”

“Go away, Byron. This doesn’t concern you.”

“It very much concerns me. If Gillespie comes to me, I won’t have any choice but to share what I know. And that’s my own life forfeit. Besides, we’re family. I’m responsible for you—”

“You’re brothers?” I asked, suddenly understanding. Of course, it made perfect sense. That’s why they looked so similar, and that’s why Cole was so resistant of Byron’s offers of help, which – despite his threatening demeanour – sounded quite sensible.

“Of course,” Byron reached down and grabbed the handlebars of Cole’s bike. His eyes flicked across my face, and he laughed. “Didn’t Cole tell you? Is that another secret my little brother has kept from someone he cares about? He should know by now that secrets get you into trouble.”

“Get away from my bike, Byron.” Cole snapped. “We’re leaving. I’ve had enough of this.”

“It’s all yours,” Byron dropped his hand and stepped aside, still smiling.

“Don’t follow us tonight,” Cole growled. “I won’t have anyone else implicated. I’ll get a message to you when I have a plan in place.”

I looked at Cole in confusion. He looked murderous. Byron, on the other hand, wore a cat-ate-the-canary grin that was even more disturbing. What he had said sounded so reasonable, but if Cole didn’t like his brother … there must be something to that. Byron was acting threateningly, and he had known to find us out here, he’d known where Cole’s bike was hidden ... I tugged on Cole’s hand. “He’s tampered with the bike,” I whispered.

“No, I haven’t, although that’s actually a pretty good idea.” Byron grinned. “At least your girl is clever, Cole. Don’t let Sir Thomas get his hands on her. He loves clever girls, loves devouring them.”

Cole growled, deep in his throat. He grabbed the handlebars of the bike and yanked it around, so it was facing away from Byron.

“I don’t think we should get on that bike,” I said, my heart pounding. I didn’t like the way Byron was grinning at us.

“Don’t worry. Byron isn’t going to hurt me. He’s all talk and no action.” Cole tossed me a helmet. “Put that on,” he said.

“Cole, I—”

“Trust me.”

Trust me.
I gulped. If only he knew how hard that was for me, how much he was actually asking. The truth was, I was trying to trust him, I wanted to trust him so badly. But I knew he was lying to me, he was keeping things from me, and so I couldn’t trust what he said now. And worse, I didn’t trust myself.

I thought I had pretty good intuition, that I could read people, that my gut would give me a sense of what’s right and wrong. Well, my gut had told me Ethan was a good guy, and I’d nearly lost everything. Even though Cole’s eyes looked earnest, and the way he touched me lit my body on fire, I couldn’t trust myself with him completely. I wasn’t strong enough.

But the alternative was hanging around in the dark with Byron, and I wasn’t particularly keen on that, either. As much as I didn’t want to let Cole into my heart, I also trusted him more than I did the cold cruelness in Byron’s eyes.

I pulled the helmet over my head, tucking my hair into the back of my shirt. I put my arms around his warm body, pressing my chest hard against his back.
Intimate.
My body surged with energy, an almost primal manifestation of my attraction to Cole, but I was too scared and angry and confused to want to act upon my desires.

“Where’s your helmet?” I asked Cole. My voice came out muffled.

“I don’t need one,” he called back.

With a roar of the engine, we sped off. The wind whipped around me. Cole tore down the dark road, leaving the shadow of Byron far behind us. He turned a corner and the whole bike lurched to the left, the ground tilting up toward us. I squeezed my eyes shut.
We’re going to tip.
I screamed inside my head, too frightened even to push sound from my mouth.
I never should have got on this bike. I never—

The bike swung upright again, the centre of gravity shifting back to below my arse. I relaxed slightly. We swung around another corner and my body dipped. The road came up to meet me, and I had visions of myself lying on the table at the morgue with the coroner saying, “I’ve never had a corpse that smelled like bread before.”

I’d never been on something so loud and terrifying and exhilarating. The world faded into a blurry tunnel, a wormhole in space that seemed to be sucking me in. My heart pounded against my chest, my whole body rigid with fear as I clung to Cole with every atom of energy I possessed. But when he finally cut the engine, and the wind and the cold and the blurry tunnel died away, my body coursed with fire. The adrenaline had finally kicked in.

“How was that?” Cole grinned at me, as he kicked down the stand.

“I hated it,” I said, but I couldn’t stop smiling.

“I can see that.” He grinned wider, wiping a strand of hair from my face. His touch seared my cheek. Dammit, why did he have to be so attractive? I needed to get answers, but all I wanted to do was throw myself at him.

I looked away from him, desperate to break the spell he had over me. I realised we were still in the middle of nowhere. Cole had parked in a small verge alongside another dark, country road. Ahead of us was a tall iron fence, many of the rungs bent or broken. An iron gate hung open, creaking gently on its hinges as it swayed in the crisp breeze. The place gave me the creeps. “Where are we?” I asked. “I thought we were going to Alex and Ryan’s?”