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"Charlotte, I can't answer your questions. The less you know, the better."

"I don't even know your name, or what to call you."

"You can call me sir." He helped her up. "Let's head back. The tide is coming in."

She looked out at the sea, reminding her of home and the refuge it always offered. He was right, the beach was quickly disappearing, the pounding water inching closer and closer. It was then that she spotted it. A sailboat anchored in the small cove, visible only between the rise and fall of the waves. His hand came down on her shoulder. "That will be auld man Jock. Looking to see if the shoals have come in."

"Shoals?" she asked, her focus remaining on the boat.

"Aye, the herring. They have fisheries now that farm them, but every year auld Jock insists on watching for their return. He lives up the coast a wee way, but he swears this cove is where he's always spotted them first."

It couldn't be more than a hundred yards out, its mast bobbing away like a cork in the water. If she could get to the boat, she knew how to sail. "Even in this weather?"

"He grew up in these waters."

She turned and started climbing the steep ascent of the cliffs, stumbling on the wet rocks and too big boots, her mind spinning a mad web of ideas. If she could gain her abductor's trust to leave her uncuffed, then there were opportunities for escape.

Without warning, she was pushed up against the cliff wall into a small alcove, his body pressed against hers. "There's someone up there," he whispered.

She looked up. A shadowy figure stood above them looking out at the horizon.

He covered her mouth before she could scream. "Wheest," he said in her ear. "Not a word."

She struggled under his weight, his body crushing her against the rough stone.

He whistled softly through his teeth, "Shh," his breath warm on her neck. "We're safe. Whoever it is, they're leaving." He slowly removed his hand from her mouth and ran the back of his fingers along her cheek in a caress. She trembled at his touch, alarmed at what it stirred in her. They stood there in silence until the water climbed and began to lap at their feet and they had no other choice but to continue up the rest of the trail. At the top he put himself in front of her, holding her hand tight as they crested the ridge. But there was no one to be seen. Whoever the shadowy figure had been, was now gone.

* * *

A soft rain was starting to fall by the time they got into the cottage. Sin took her coat from her, hanging it on a peg by the door, then he led her to the chair. "Ankle or wrist?" he asked, pulling out the cuffs. "I have to check outside before the storm."

"Wrist." She pulled her legs up under her, handing him her arm, shivering.

He locked the restraint in place and covered her with an old tartan blanket then clicked a small lamp on beside her, adding a warm glow to the darkening room. It was early evening, but the sun already hid behind thick, threatening clouds. He stopped, looking her in the eyes, wide with apprehension, and took her chin in his hand. "I won't be long." His pulse quickened and he felt his cock shift. He shouldn't have kissed her earlier. That was a mistake on his part. His only relationship was with Maurna. And it was no more than a series of one-night stands, emotionless and without caring. They had an agreement, fucking only, and it worked for both of them. The Watch demanded it that way. Relationships were messy. Especially in his field. Alex had only allowed one exception, Wraith and Primrose McNeil, and that was because Viktor Sokolov continued to threaten her life. No, Charlotte was his prisoner, and kissing her had been a mistake.

Outside, he looked around for any signs of the visitor. Someone knew he was here, which was disconcerting. He would have to check the video feed. The wind had picked up and a light drizzle began to fall; it would be gale force soon enough. He removed the security cameras he had set up. They would be of no use when the worst of the storm hit, and he didn't want them damaged. Checking the windows and shutters, he made sure everything was sealed, then he grabbed a few extra bags of coal from the small shed before locking it up and going back inside. She had fallen asleep, her head tilted to the side, her slender neck exposed and defenseless, skin as smooth as porcelain. He had the urge to touch it, to kiss the tender area behind her ear. He knew she was scared and vulnerable and the moment she gave herself over to him, when she sat in his lap after her spanking, he knew he would protect her. Damn, thirty-five years and he'd never felt this way. He just wasn't sure what he was going to do with her. He undid the cuff around her wrist, running his thumb over the pale white skin on the underside, translucent to the point he could see her blue veins and feel the delicate beat of her pulse. He adjusted the blanket, covering her. Her eyes fluttered open. His face inches from hers, he stared into their lavender depths. She let out a small gasp. "Go back to sleep, Charlotte," he said, kissing her quickly on her forehead.

The rain had picked up. It was now beating heavily on the roof and against the windows. Charlotte lay in the chair, though he knew she no longer slept. Her countenance was stiff and guarded. He sat down at the table to check the camera feeds. The figure could be seen walking around the house and peering in the windows. Whoever it was, wore a coat with the hood pulled up, obscuring any detectable features. Damn. He turned his phone on briefly. He had disabled any tracking. Six missed calls from Gabriel. He pressed his number, returning the call.

"Sinclair, where are you?" Gabriel asked, answering on the first ring.

"I can't talk long. I'm off the grid. Phin didn't clear the bar."

"Aye, he called. He said you went after a girl," Gabriel said.

Sin glanced over at Charlotte. "Someone tipped off Sokolov. He knew we were coming. It was a fucking ambush," he explained.

"Sin, you need to get back here. Alex is furious. He wants answers."

"Aye, I can't come yet. There's been a complication. Where's Phinneas?" he asked.

"We haven't heard from him since he called. We have no idea. Do you have the girl with you?" Gabriel asked.

"I've got to go. I'll check my phone tomorrow." Sin hung up, powering down the phone. Shite. The Watch knew about Charlotte. Fucking Phin. These men were his brothers for all practical purposes. He had taken an oath, swearing allegiance to The Watch and in essence to them all. She was a liability, and while none of them were monsters, they would protect The Watch and its purpose at all costs and they expected him to also.

He stood, shaking his head. What a mess. The wind howled outside, as the storm grew in intensity, and it pulled him back into the moment. He turned on an old-fashioned wooden box radio, hoping to get a weather report. The buzz and crackle of static came through the speaker instead. He adjusted the rotary dial, settling on classical music. Tomaso Albinoni's Adagio in G minor filled the room, enhancing the weather's turgid lament. The small cottage had grown warm and he removed his jumper. Sin headed into the kitchen and pulled various things from the fridge. He sliced the leftover chicken from lunch and made them both sandwiches, toasting the bread until it was crisp for their tea. Then he uncorked the wine from earlier and poured them each a glass, placing it all on a tray and setting it on the coffee table before the fire. A man's voice cut through the music. "The northeast of Scotland is preparing for a powerful storm as a cold blast of Russian air is set to hit. Power outages and wind damage are expected. Updates on the hour." His voice faded, and the music returned.

"I know you're awake, Charlotte. I need you to eat something."

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