Sea of Souls (Sea of Souls Saga Book 1) by N. C. Scrimgeour

Author:N. C. Scrimgeour [Scrimgeour, N. C.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Alcruix Press
Published: 2023-08-04T04:00:00+00:00

The sun had long risen by the time Isla hobbled up the flagstone path to the front door of Quinn’s townhouse. The brightness fought in vain to break through the clouds in beams of scattered light. Down in the vaults, she’d lost all sense of time. It was only now she realised how exhausted she was, how her stomach growled with hunger. Her legs were stiff and sore, her ankle swollen and throbbing. A cool wind nipped at her neck, and she pulled the lapels of her longcoat tighter, noticing the dried blood under her nails. There would be no hiding what had happened. One way or another, she’d have to answer for it.

The others were gathered in the drawing room when she returned, talking in hushed voices. Darce saw her first, relief washing over his face as she limped through the doors. His eyes darkened as they trailed over her. Isla could only imagine how she must look—her clothes coated in grime, her face and hands stained with blood that was not her own.

Lachlan stormed over, pale and shaken. “Where have you been? When we woke to find you and the—the others gone, we feared the worst.”

Isla glanced to where Quinn stood in the corner of the room. “We were followed. Someone was after Eimhir and Finlay.”

“And you,” Darce said, expression stony. “What happened, Isla? Where are they now?”

“They didn’t make it back?” Isla’s heart dropped. “We split up. I thought they got away, but—”

She broke off at the sound of the drawing room doors bursting open, the wood rattling on its hinges. Standing between them, hair dishevelled and shoulders heaving with ragged breaths, was Finlay. His lip was torn and bloody, the white fur of his pelt stained red around his shoulders.

He fixed her with a glare that contained only fury, only hatred. “This was you. You did this.”

Isla froze. “Where’s Eimhir?”

“You tell me.” He stalked back and forth, his fists clenched so tightly his hands were shaking. “You were the one who led us into a trap.”

“I had nothing to do with—”

Finlay let loose a snarl and leapt towards her. Before Isla had time to scramble for her pistol, he grabbed her by the throat and slammed her against the wall. His dagger was in his hand, the tip of the blade pressing into her neck with an unrelenting bite.

“Tell me where they took her.” His hand was like ice around her throat as he squeezed, crushing her windpipe. He was so close she could smell the salt on his breath. All it would take was one wrong move, and his dagger would slide across her throat, spilling her blood across Quinn’s perfectly polished marble floor.

“Take that blade away from her.” Darce’s voice cut through the room, dangerously soft. The sound of it was like a blade of its own, cold-edged and unforgiving. “I warned you once before that if you spilled a drop of her blood, you’d pay with your own. Don’t make me follow through.”

Finlay flared his nostrils as he held her.

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