Mara didn't see Mrs. North's panic. She heard the sound. The sharp, violent CRACK and the following cascade of splinters, and all thoughts of rent and contracts vanished. The sound was not an explosion; it was a hungry bite. It was the house, broken open, and the sea surging in.
She sprinted toward the long, dark corridor leading to the study, her desperation overriding her fear. She rounded the corner and skidded to a stop, her eyes wide.
The room was not on fire, but it was in chaos. The study, which faced the open ocean, was suddenly much colder. A massive sheet of glass on the exterior wall was spiderwebbed with cracks, and near the center, a jagged, fist-sized hole had been torn open. Through the hole, the cold, salty wind of the Pacific howled, carrying the roar of the waves and a fine, icy spray.
Elias Vale stood directly in front of the damage, his back to her. He was absolutely still, his long, dark overcoat billowing slightly in the sudden blast of wind. A thin line of crimson was spreading across the white cuff of his shirt.
"Get out," Elias commanded, his voice strained and low, yet retaining its cold authority. He didn't turn around. "I said, get out now, Miss Quinn."
Mrs. North, having finally caught up, gasped from the doorway. "Oh, Master, I'll call the security team!"
Mara ignored them both. Her fear was real, but the sight of the blood and the shattered glass was a powerful counter-shock. Elias was not a god; he was wounded. He was vulnerable. The wave of defiance, rooted in her shame and pride, surged up and finally burst free.
"No," Mara said, her voice clear and surprisingly steady against the wind. "I am not moving."
Elias slowly turned, his expression lethal. His eyes, the color of wet slate, fixed on her. "You have exactly two seconds to explain why you are deliberately disobeying a direct order."
Mara marched toward him, planting her feet just beyond the marble where the wind was whipping the coldest. She held out her hand, palm up.
"I need my advance," she stated, ignoring the chaos and the cut on his wrist. "I need the contract, signed, now. I cannot wait until 'later.' I'm facing eviction. You hired me, you agreed to pay me. I am doing the job. Now, you hold up your end."
The nerve of her. Standing there, demanding money while his home was literally being torn apart by the sea. A flicker of something. Was it amusement, or shock? Crossed his eyes. He seemed to assess her, not as an employee, but as an impossible, reckless thing that dared to interrupt his ruin.
"You have remarkable timing," he murmured, his voice laced with dangerous silk. He reached into his coat pocket with his good hand and pulled out a checkbook and a black fountain pen.
He leaned against the shattered wall, wrote quickly, and ripped off the check. He didn't look at the amount. He only looked at her.
"Take it," he commanded, dropping the paper into her open hand. "Now get the hell out of here"
Mara snatched the check. She glanced down. $500. It was real. The money was finally real. She was safe. For now.
"The sea does not break glass on its own," she whispered, her gaze moving from the jagged hole back to his face. "What happened here?"
Elias's cold expression returned, heavier and darker than before. "The Atlantic is a capricious mistress, Miss Quinn. It takes what it wants, and sometimes it hits back."
Mrs. North ushered Mara toward the door. "Go, dear. Leave the Master to deal with the damage."
Mara allowed herself to be pulled away, but as she reached the doorway, she glanced back at the shattered window. The cold spray was coating the floor, but something else caught her eye near the splintered base of the window frame.
It wasn't water. It was a trail of dark, shimmering sand, unnaturally black, unnaturally dry, clinging to the marble, leading from the shattered hole like a chilling fingerprint. It was utterly out of place.
Elias saw her looking, and his eyes instantly narrowed into pure command. "Quinn."
Mara snatched her gaze away. She didn't say anything, but her hand instantly closed over the check in her pocket. She had the money. She was safe from the landlord. But as she fled the corridor and the sound of the raging sea, she knew the terrible truth.
She had secured her job and her advance, but she had just found the real reason why she couldn't leave. The house was attacked, Elias was wounded, and she was the only witness to the beautiful, black trail of the thing that tried to kill him.