“That’s not the impression you gave—it’s the one I painted, but I can see that it was false. Yes, we competed, we bantered—”
“Still do,” he said, his tone arch with amusement.
Isla huffed a laugh. “We still do. But always as equals. I see now you weren’t coming from a mean or dismissive place. I was defensive, quick to judge, lumping you in with others who had made disparaging remarks.”
“I’ve always admired your mind,” he said quietly. “Your brilliance.”
Isla felt her cheeks warm at that. “Yes, well, the admiration on that score is mutual—which is probably why I fought so hard to best you.”
She grinned at him and his laugh followed, low and genuine. When she met his eyes, the pale blue was darkened now by the fading light.
“And while I’m on this road of humble pie,” she continued, “thank you—for the rescues, and the support.”
“I’d like to always rescue you when you need it,” he said. “If you’d let me.”
“As long as I get to rescue you one day. This damsel-in-distress thing Juliette raves about is highly overrated.”
Andrew laughed again. “Deal. We’ll rescue each other.”
They both smiled at this agreement made between them and turned to face forward again as if the matter were settled. Isla felt calm—peaceful, even. After a quiet moment, she felt Andrew’s gloved hand cover hers. Her breath caught—not just at the warmth of the touch, but at the nervous energy behind it. His hand trembled slightly over hers as if afraid of her reaction, but she could feel the intention and the quiet courage in the gesture.
Though they both wore gloves, her skin tingled beneath the leather. Should she pull away—or let this warmth grow? It was a risk, but something deep inside her whispered that it was right. Familiar, somehow.
Mustering up her courage, slowly, she turned her hand until their palms met, and their fingers laced gently together. She heard the faintest sigh of relief as his fingers closed around hers.
As the group found the little green Austin in the car park, a hush settled over them while Juliette coaxed the engine to life.Out of the wind at last, the car quickly filled with a pleasant, drowsy warmth. Isla felt her eyelids grow heavy. Andrew sat close beside her, solid and warm—his shoulder right there, tempting her.
Did she dare? He held her hand again, picking it up after they’d settled into the car, fingers loosely intertwined. He’d been brave enough to take it for a second time; surely she couldn’t let him best her in courage now.
Holding her breath, she tilted her head and let it rest lightly against his shoulder. For a heartbeat she waited, expecting him to tense. He didn’t. Instead, his thumb brushed her hand, and then a gentle squeeze of reassurance followed. She relaxed a little more. Where this new and unexpected contact would take her, she didn’t know. But for now, it felt nice.
The world outside blurred into a wash of shadow, lamplights no longer lighting the way as the car rumbled on down a dark, deserted country road. Isla’s heart thudded far too fast for such a still moment. It was absurd, really, to feel so safe and unsteady all at once.
“Look out!”
Edmund’s shout cut through the hum of the engine. Isla’s head snapped up. In the dull wash of the moon, up ahead someone was standing by the curb—a lean figure with a hand raised, their palm glowing white. For an instant Isla thought it was simply a pedestrian and the misty night was playing tricks on her mind, but then she saw the water bead on the road, silvering in the moonlight.
Juliette gasped and the Baby juddered. The road under the tires glittered: a sheen of treacherous ice. Isla’s stomach turned sick as the front wheels skidded—the car fishtailed, the nose swinging wide. Juliette fought the wheel; Edmund grabbed forthe dashboard. The Baby Austin yawed, a metal animal panicking, then spun.
Glass screamed and the world snapped sideways as the car slammed into the low country stone wall with a bone-deep thud that knocked Isla’s breath clean out of her. Her back jolted hard against the bench before she slipped forward, Andrew’s shoulder catching her with a bruising force.
An abrupt silence came so loud she heard her own pulse in her ears.
“Are you all right?” Andrew’s voice was immediate, taut with shock.
Isla looked up. Edmund was slumped over, his large frame hunched, his door up against the wall; he had taken the worst of the impact.
“I’m fine, but Edmund ...”
Juliette’s fingers were trembling on the wheel.
“Let me get out. He needs healing. I need to try and heal him,” Isla said.
That snapped Juliette’s attention to him. “Edmund?” she said, her voice small.
Isla felt herself fighting panic. She needed to get out, but how would she get to Edmund when his door was flush against the wall? How would she heal him? She didn’t know how to use her powers of healing yet. As these thoughts went through her mind, movement caught her eyes.
A shape detached itself from the gloom like a shadow coming to life. She leaned closer to the window—the only one not broken—and her breath fogged up the glass; she wiped away the mist with her hand. Andrew was speaking to Juliette.
