“I wondered if I’d find you in one of these rooms,” Paul said, his voice barely audible, as though any louder would wake the whole house. When in fact all the bedrooms were soundproofed, so unless they fell asleep and left the door open, no one would hear a thing.
That thought was more unsettling than he wanted it to be.
“Couldn’t sleep,” Isaac replied, matching his volume.
Paul walked closer until he could lean on the doorframe. “Why in here? Why not in the kitchen with the others from your pack who can’t seem to sleep either?”
Isaac grinned, showing all his teeth. “Comfier chairs.”
Although Isaac could see well enough in the dark, nothing looked the same as it did in daylight. Paul almost filled the whole doorway. The fine moonlight creeping in past drawn curtains gave him an otherworldly appearance that was unsettling, to say the least.
“Why don’t you come in and have a look around? That is the reason you’re up and creeping around my house, right?”
Paul huffed. “I’m not creeping around.”
“You didn’t tell me you were going to conduct a search in the middle of the night.”
“I didn’t say that I wasn’t.” He gestured to where Isaac sat. “But clearly you’re not surprised.”
“No, I’m not.”
Paul pushed off the doorjamb and walked slowly into the room, eyes dancing around as he took everything in. “It really is a beautiful house you have here, Isaac.” He walked over to the fireplace and trailed his fingers over the mantel.
Isaac froze and had to force himself to relax as Paul came to a stop and closed his eyes, clearly scenting the air.
Even Isaac, with his alpha senses, struggled to detect a hint of sea air coming through from the tunnel. Paul stood no chance of detecting anything, and yet Isaac got the feeling he knew exactly what was behind there.
“It’s quite a drive to get here from London.” Paul still had his eyes closed, and Isaac frowned at the seeming non sequitur. “Since I wasn’t driving, I had a lot of time on my hands, so I did a bit of research.”
Isaac’s heart beat so loudly it felt like the whole house could hear it. He remained silent, not willing to be baited.
“There’s surprisingly little information on the internet about the Flete Estate. Mothecombe House is old as fuck, though.” He turned to Isaac then, gaze piercing even in the dark. “Is that why you took it as your pack name instead of your own?”
This was not the conversation Isaac had thought he’d be having. The Mothecombe name had been his for so long now, he’d almost forgotten that it hadn’t been his to start with. “I wanted a fresh start.”
“Fair enough.” Oddly, Paul let that go, which made Isaac more nervous than if he’d pushed for more. “I did find something interesting out about this place though.”
“Oh?” Isaac had no idea where Paul was heading with this, but he had no option but to let it play out.
“Apparently there’s a cave off the beach that was used for smuggling back in the day. Imagine that?” He started walking again, slowly skirting the outside of the room.
“Devon and Cornwall are well known for their smugglers. That doesn’t surprise me.”
“Would it surprise you to know that there’s rumoured to be a tunnel connecting the cave to the house?”
Isaac laughed, amazed that it didn’t sound forced. “I think that’s someone’s wishful thinking.”
Paul finished his circuit of the room and stopped in front of the fireplace again. “So you’ve never found such a tunnel?”
“No. And I’ve investigated every inch of this house and the gardens. If there was a tunnel going down to a cave below, I think I’d have found it by now.”
“You would, wouldn’t you?” He put his hands on the mantel, head hanging down between his shoulders. His next words were said so softly, but they hit Isaac like a sledgehammer. “I know who Michael is. I know he and the others came here after escaping London, and I don’t believe they’ve left yet.”
Fuck.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
It ran through his head on repeat.
