Take the Low Road: An Urban Fantasy Thriller: Harker & Blackthorn - Book Twelve by J. A. Ironside

Author:J. A. Ironside [Ironside, J. A.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Blue Stone Press
Published: 2025-09-29T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Nineteen – Cold Passenger

For a moment, even the lashing wind seemed to still. A pause during which the night held its breath. Then an appalling cry rent the night, cutting through the rising wind and raging sea. I staggered sideways, stunned, my foot skating along the crumbling edge of the path. It occurred to me dimly that the sound was in my mind, not my ears. That it wasn’t a mortal scream; it came from the presence which had dogged my footsteps since I arrived in Caithness.

Steve’s voice came from below. A cry of horror that twisted in the storm until it was almost a howl. He was at the Witch Stone, hanging in on with one hand while reaching the other towards the sea. A dark head broke the surface. Rebekah scrabbled weakly at the buffeting waves, not fully cognisant of where she was or how she came to be there. I saw her submerge again, then lurch out of the water gasping for breath as another wave broke over her head. With each second, she was further from the stone, borne by the powerful current even as survival mode clicked in and she began to swim properly.

Half the cliff path swept down ahead of me. I tried to force my feet into a run even though I was already too late. My leg muscles were locked against further psychic assault. Rain lashed my face. I fought my gift for possession of my own body and something inside me snapped. My feet remained rooted to the rock and at the same time I glided forward, swooping down the path before spiralling upwards. Glorious freedom, tinged with uneasiness. My mind had broken free; I was soaring like a fish eagle above sea and stone. I was part of the clouds, vision stretching for miles. The night tasted of lightning, a metallic promise in the air. The rain poured through me as if I wasn’t there. The scene spread out below – Steve leaning perilously out over the dark waters, hair whipped into his shock-white face. The sea foamed and surged, and there, midway down the cliff path, stood a small blonde girl in a soaked red sundress. I recoiled at the sight of my own body, standing so deathly still, indifferent to the storm.

There was no sign of Rebekah even from this vantage point, but I could feel the angry golden flare of her life force, sinking below the waves. I reached and the Touch became a huge, invisible net that dredged through the water. A huge gout of sea water erupted into the air and Rebekah’s head broke the surface once more. She coughed, throwing her head back, gulping in air before sinking again. I grabbed hold of her with my gift, grimacing as I fought to keep hold of her lithe and slippery presence. Rebekah didn’t question why she was no longer being dragged down. She struck out, fighting the tide to get back to the rock. Steve spotted her.

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