The man moved slowly toward her before he stopped again. Another flash of lightning revealed his very tall silhouette and incredibly broad shoulders and thick arms showcased by his wet tee shirt that was now molded to his body. She couldn’t see much of his face other than a strong jawline and penetrating eyes.
“You seem to be in need of assistance,” he said.
She heard the Irish accent in his deep voice. He purposefully kept his distance so as not to scare her. The next flash of lightning had him looking up at the storm above them.
“I think we’d best get out of this weather, don’t you?” he asked as he offered her his hand.
There was no way she could get down to her car without help. She had no choice but to trust him. “Yes,” she said and took his proffered palm.
He easily lifted her into his arms, cradling her against him. Sorcha felt the movement of his muscles beneath her hands as she wrapped them around his neck. There was no denying the hard stomach against her. Or the softness of the long hair he had gathered at the back of his neck.
There was something about a man with long hair that just did it for her. Few could really pull it off, but she gave credit to those who tried.
Within moments, they were at the bottom of the mountain not far from where she’d hidden her car. She glanced back at the rugged terrain, trying to figure out how he’d come down it so quickly. Had she been so wrapped up in all the hard sinew against her that she hadn’t paid attention? There was no other explanation.
“Where shall I take you?”
Her head snapped toward his. That’s when she realized that she was very near his face. Unfortunately, she still couldn’t get a good look at him. “Oh. Um…my car is parked over there,” she said, pointing in the general direction.
He said nothing else as he strode to her vehicle. Once there, he gently set her down until she leaned against the car with her injured foot lifted.
“Thank you,” she said.
He gave a nod. “You should be careful. These are dangerous times, and there are many more dangers out there.”
She couldn’t tell if he was threatening her or warning her, not that it mattered. She was well aware of what was out there. Sorcha pulled the key fob from her pants’ pocket and unlocked the vehicle. “You’re very right.” She opened the car door. “Thank you a—”
But when she glanced up, he was gone. Sorcha didn’t look for him. Instead, she got into the car and locked the doors before starting the engine.
Chapter Two
Cathal hadn’t moved from his spot near the Halfling, but he was veiled. Which meant that no one but another Reaper—or Death herself—could see him. The last thing he’d expected to see that night was a Halfling on the cliffs listening to a bunch of Druids talk about creating an offshoot group of Others.
After everything the Dragon Kings had gone through to end the Others, it boggled his mind that Druids and Fae now wanted to create their own groups. The only difference was, the Druids didn’t stand a chance.
Cathal watched as the car carrying the Halfling drove away. There had been no mistaking her Scottish accent. That only added to his confusion as to why she had been out here tonight. And not just for a walk. She had scaled the side of the cliff to listen to the Druids.
He’d kept one eye on the assembled group, and another on her in case she fell. But the Halfling had been more than competent—even in the storm. Everything would’ve been fine had she been more careful on her way down the mountain. She had been in too much of a hurry, though, and it’d caused her to hurt an ankle.
Before he knew it, he’d lowered his veil and spoken with her. He still wasn’t sure what had come over him. Maybe it was because there had been no one else to help her—and she’d definitely needed assistance. No matter how curious he was to know her intentions, he hadn’t asked. She wouldn’t have told him anything anyway.
The air shifted slightly, and Rordan appeared beside him. He was smiling, which made Cathal roll his eyes.
“You didn’t think I’d see you helping the Halfling, did you?” Rordan asked cheerfully.
Cathal shot him a flat look. “Wipe that smile off your face before I do it for you.”
In the next instant, Aisling joined them. “Listen to him, Rordan,” she advised.
“You two are no fun,” Rordan replied with a frown.
Aisling cut her eyes to Cathal and simply stared. She had red eyes, just as he did, marking them both as Dark Fae. Or at least they had been Dark at one time. Being a Reaper meant that whatever happened before you died, no longer mattered once you were reborn to serve Death.
“Why did you help her? She’s a Halfling. She would’ve been just fine on her own,” Aisling said.
Cathal felt the gaze of both Reapers on him. He shrugged. “I…don’t know.”
“It’s not like you’re going to see her again, so it doesn’t matter.”
Rordan smiled as he crossed his arms over his chest. “He helped the Halfling because he likes her.”
It took a great deal of effort not to punch Rordan, but Cathal managed to keep his hands to himself. Rordan’s comments were rarely directed at him. Clearly, he wasn’t so lucky this night.
“What?” Rordan said with a chuckle as Aisling speared him with a flat look. “When have you ever seen Cathal help a Halfling? Like I’m just supposed to let that go without comment?” He rolled his silver eyes. “Puh-lease.”
Aisling shook her head of long, black and silver braids but didn’t reply.
Cathal watched until the car’s taillights were out of view. The Halfling had been wary of him, which was smart. The fact that she’d been there secretly intrigued him. He’d wanted to ask her what she was about, but she would’ve likely made up some lie. And he couldn’t stand to hear that, no matter the reason.
Regardless of how he looked at it, he couldn’t figure out why a Halfling was there. Unless she was spying on someone in the group. That made him pause. She didn’t appear as if she were following a specific person. In fact, she’d seemed intrigued by everyone and everything. That brought him back to why she had been on the mountain to begin with.
A Scotswoman, at that.
Rordan said, “Looks like we have a lot to report. Shall we head back?”
“You two go ahead,” Cathal said. “I’ve got something to do first.” The moment the words were out of his mouth, Cathal knew Rordan would comment on them. He pointed a finger at his friend and shook his head. “Not a word. Not one single bloody word.”
Rordan slapped his hands against his thighs. “You’re no fun. No fun at all.”
“I know that look,” Aisling told Cathal. “You’re going to follow the Halfling. Why?”
He shrugged. “Something doesn’t add up with her being here.”
“What does it matter what a Halfling does?” Aisling said dismissively.
“Unless the Fae Others recruited her and sent her,” Rordan stated.
Cathal hadn’t thought of that. He ran a hand down his face, wiping away the rain. None of them cared about the storm. “She was nervous.”
“I would be as well out in a storm like this on a cliff.” Aisling shrugged. “Then again, I wouldn’t have been that stupid to get into such a predicament.”