The Devil's Eye

As if sensing her gaze, he lifted his chin toward the windshield. “There’s the house.”

She opened both eyes and looked straight ahead. A hulking outline materialized from the gloom. The manor sat atop a large plateau overlooking the sea. At the rocky edge, the ground sloped steeply toward the water. A thick tangle of forest hemmed in the house at the back.

She held her breath, waiting for some hint of recognition, some spark of memory.

Nothing, only shivery unease.

Reece pulled into a large courtyard, driving past an ancient coach house, and parking her rental in front the manor before cutting the engine. Silence wrapped around them, except for the rain beating crazily on the car’s roof.

“Ready?” he asked.

Not even close. But she swallowed hard and nodded, anyway.

Brynn opened the car door and stepped out. Wind gusted, spraying her with freezing rain and wet snow. She kept her attention fixed on the ground to avoid looking at the water. For all the good it did with the brine thick in the air and the rush of the surf pounding the shore below.

She met Reece at the rear of the car, took back her keys and opened the trunk. As she hauled her carry-on bag onto her shoulder, Reece lifted out her suitcase.

“You don’t have to take that. I can manage,” she told him, quickly.

He rolled his eyes. “Believe me, I do.”

He started for the manor. Brynn slammed the trunk closed and hurried after him, but her gaze locked on the house. Stone walls, black from the wet weather, gleamed despite the darkness. Lights from two second-floor windows on either side of the vestibule glowed like yellow eyes over a dark, cavernous mouth.

Don’t go in there. The thought popped into her head, bringing with it an irrational swell of fear. Her breath hitched and she froze midstep.

“What are you doing now?” Reece’s exasperated voice dragged her attention to his scowl.

“Nothing.” She had to pull herself together. She’d already made an ass of herself in front of him once today. She’d really like to at least get inside with some shred of dignity in place.

She swallowed the coppery taste in her mouth and forced her feet forward, following Reece beneath the archway of the darkened vestibule. He opened the heavy oak door, moved aside and allowed her to go in first.

The wild panic surging through her vanished the moment she stepped into the warm hallway. Tiny prisms of color cast through dangling crystals on the intricate chandelier above danced over the patterned tile floor. Her gaze swept over the space, from the square staircase with a thick wooden banister, to the faded wallpaper and antique pieces of furniture.

There was nothing frightening, nothing menacing, just a sense of worn elegance.

Slowly, her heart settled into a normal rhythm and a wave of exhaustion rolled over her. Maybe bouts of paranoia were common in cases of extreme jet lag.

The door behind her closed with a solid thunk. Her face heated. She must look like some high-strung neurotic. Though, after today, maybe she was.

“Lord all mighty, Reece Conway. What can you be thinking?” A woman’s shrill voice broke into her thoughts. Brynn looked up at a tiny, ferret-faced woman storming down the stairs. The hem of her navy skirt brushed her calves, hissing against her thick beige hose with each step. “You’re not to be bringing your strumpets back here.”

Disdain curled the woman’s thin mouth as her nearly black gaze swept Brynn from foot to head.

Brynn turned to Reece. Did he bring a lot of women back here? What difference did it make? She didn’t even like the man, and he certainly wasn’t her type. He reminded her of those boys from high school with their ripped jeans and leather jackets. The kind of boys her grandparents would have grounded her for life if she had ever shown an interest in.

“You shouldn’t jump to conclusions,” Reece said, flashing a hard smile. “Ms. James is Eleri’s guest, not mine. Maybe you ought to fetch her and tell her that her sister has arrived.”

The woman’s close-set eyes narrowed, high-arced brows pulling into a confused frown. Her gaze bounced from Reece to Brynn. “It can’t be.”

Unease settled over Brynn, bringing with it a faint chill. This wasn’t how she’d imagined her return.

“Find Eleri,” Reece said. “I’m sure she’ll be pleased to explain all of this.”

Without a word, the woman hurried down the hall.

Brynn turned to Reece, tight knots twisting her stomach. “Who was that?”

“Mrs. Voyle?” He slid his hands into his jeans’ pockets and leaned back against the door. “She’s the housekeeper.”

Brynn nodded slowly. “You didn’t know I was coming, did you?”

He shrugged. “Eleri James is hardly going to discuss such things with me.”

“And the housekeeper didn’t know either.”

“Obviously.”

If the staff hadn’t been told about her impending arrival, what about her father?

“You’ve made it, at last.” Brynn turned to the small woman emerging from the same hall Mrs. Voyle had disappeared down. “I was beginning to worry.”

Brynn’s throat tightened. This was her sister. How could her grandparents have kept this from her, died without telling her the truth?

Brynn searched for some sort of familial recognition, a fragment of memory.

Nothing.

If she’d passed Eleri on the street there was nothing about the woman that would make Brynn give her a second look. Nothing that so much as hinted they were related, let alone shared the same father.

Eleri was small, a good four or five inches shorter than Brynn’s own five foot seven. Her frame was tiny, though it was hard to be sure, swallowed up the way she was by an oversized gray sweater and baggy gray pants. Dark brown hair, cut blunt, framed her sharp features and curled beneath her pointed chin.

They looked nothing alike…except the eyes, maybe. Dark brown and lifting slightly at the corners, and interestingly, the feature Brynn liked least about herself.

She forced an awkward smile. “I got a little lost. Luckily, I ran into Reece at the pub when I stopped for directions.”

“Lucky, indeed.” The woman’s gaze shifted to Reece, her tone cooling considerably. “Found you at the pub, did she? No surprise there.”

Reece glowered; a muscle ticked at his jaw. “It was my afternoon off.”

Animosity thickened the air between them, and Brynn stepped back as if unconsciously moving out of the line of fire.

Eleri crossed her arms over her chest and tilted her head to one side. “Take Brynn’s things to the front guest room. Mrs. Voyle can direct you. Whatever time you’ve had to take from drinking yourself into oblivion, you can have tomorrow. Provided I don’t need you for anything else, of course.”

“That’s really not necessary,” Brynn broke in. She wasn’t comfortable with Reece hauling her suitcases around like a bellhop. “I’ve managed them this far…”

She might as well have kept her mouth shut. Reece didn’t so much as look her way as he bent to gather her bags.

“No, really you don’t have to.” Brynn reached to take her case from him, but he jerked it away and pinned her with a frigid glare.