Island of Glass
Page 41

The wild had always, would always call to her blood, and a wicked storm whirling over the night-dark sea, the rough and rugged land heated that blood, had her stepping out just enough to let the rain pelt her upturned face.
Then she looked down, saw movement, saw a figure near the cliff wall, and instinctively reached for the gun she hadn’t thought to bring.
In a flash of lightning the figure became Doyle, and her instincts took a hard turn into lust.
Dark and brooding in the storm, coat swirling, sword in hand as if prepared to strike against the elements. Gorgeous, she thought again, and primal and violently sexy.
Yeah, she’d always been drawn to the wild.
As she thought it, he turned, lightning sizzling above him, and in its fire, his eyes met hers. He tightened those thoughts into a noose that clutched at her throat.
Pride and sheer will made her stand there another moment, meeting those eyes, holding them even when the dark fell again, turned him into a shadow.
Then she stepped back, shut the doors against the storm, against the man, and went back to her room alone.
• • •
Routine, Riley reminded herself when they went through it, step-by-step, the next day.
A dawn run through the wet forest, jumping over a few limbs brought down in the storm. Polishing it off with a sweat-popping session in the gym as watery sunlight struggled through the clouds.
A shower, breakfast, two more dives, weapons training.
She opted for a fire in the library, the books while Bran worked at the top of the tower, while Sasha used the other tower’s sitting room to paint. Sawyer and Doyle drove out to refill the tanks, do a food supply run. And Annika charmed her way into going with them, as a trip to the village meant shopping.
Now and again as she worked, she’d hear something rumble up above and assumed Bran made progress. But two hours into it, she found herself restless. Fresh air, she decided. She needed to move, to think. At some point in the gathering of data, you needed to stop, let it roll while you did something else.
Since the day had turned—that watery sunlight strengthened by late afternoon—she’d take a walk in the forest. Armed, of course, she thought as she patted the gun on her hip. Aware, always, but a good walk in the woods.
Odds were long she’d stumble across the star there, but thinking time was never wasted time. She slipped on a ragged hoodie, zipped it, went out by way of the main steps, nearly turned back when she saw both the car and the bike outside.
They’d gotten back while she’d been working, she supposed, and since the back of the car remained open, supplies inside, they were still unloading.
Could probably use some help. She headed toward the car when Sasha called her name.
“Hey!” She looked over, shot Sasha a salute as her friend stood just outside the trees at the head of a path. “Looks like you had the same idea as I did. I was going for a walk, but—”
“Good. There’s something—come with me.”
“Just let me haul some of this in first.”
“I need to show you something. I’m not sure . . . I need you to see.”
“What?” Intrigued, Riley detoured from the car.
“It’s hard to explain. I went off the path, nearly got lost. But I found these marks on a tree. Carvings. I don’t know what they are.”
“Carvings?” The single word had Riley quickening her steps. “Recent?”
“I don’t think so.” As she spoke, Sasha looked back into the woods. “I should have taken a picture with my phone. I didn’t think of it, just started back to tell everyone. Let me show you, and we’ll take some pictures to show the others.”
“Sash, you don’t even have your knife.”
“Oh. I don’t know what I was thinking, but well, I’ll be with you now.” Sasha took Riley’s hand, tugged. “I really want you to see this. It must mean something.”
“Okay. Lead the way.”
Doyle came out, saw Sasha and Riley move into the woods. He shook his head, grabbed two bags of groceries. “Thanks for the help,” he muttered, and headed in.
• • •
In the dappled sunlight Riley breathed deep. “I just wanted a break from the books, and some air. Didn’t figure on finding something cool. Did you get a vibe from it?”
“What? Vibe?”
“You know, a feeling?”
“I felt it was old—older than made sense. If that makes sense.” Sasha moved quickly, gestured as she cut off the track. “I just— I guess I felt pulled to go this way.”
“Must be a reason. So is it letters, symbols?”
“Both. I’ve never seen anything like it.”
“I was all over these woods, two nights running, and didn’t see it. I should have,” Riley added as they skirted around brambles and brush. “I’ve got good night vision. That makes me think you were meant to find it. But you didn’t get a strong sense, any sort of vision, so—”
She turned her head. The backhand exploded pain in her cheekbone, lifted her off her feet, propelling her into the air. She crashed hard into a tree, saw stars, felt something crunch in her right arm.
She screamed as her instinctive reach for her gun shot agony through her. Sasha leaped over the brush, sprang off the moss-coated trunk of a fallen tree.
Her eyes glowed.
In defense, Riley tried to roll, to reach cross body for her gun. The savage kicks to her ribs, to her back, her belly stole all breath.