The Rescuer Read online

  EVERNIGHT PUBLISHING ®

  www.evernightpublishing.com

  Copyright© 2021 Kera Faire

  ISBN: 978-0-3695-0292-6

  Cover Artist: Jay Aheer

  Editor: Audrey Bobak

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

  WARNING: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.

  This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, and places are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  DEDICATION

  To Rhonda. I promised another Death Isle. I hope you enjoy Lila and Euan's story.

  THE RESCUER

  Death Isle, 8

  Copyright © 2021

  Chapter One

  “Shit, fuck, and buggery.” Euan McKeand swore as black spots danced in front of his eyes and a pain worse than anything he’d ever experienced hit his stomach.

  He might never have had it before but he knew damned well what it meant.

  The bastard—whoever it was—had stabbed him.

  Who the hell was he, why was he there, and how had he not been detected? Someone deserved a rocket up their ass for that.

  What the hell had gone wrong?

  Euan fumbled in his pocket, found his alarm, and pressed it just as he heard an unknown male voice say very softly, “You are the first, you are not the last. You will all pay. Blame Darke. Ask Darke about Reth…”

  Euan tried to swing an arm … he didn’t manage it.

  The next pain was in his head.

  Then there was nothing.

  “Wake up, oh shit, Euan, bloody wake up.”

  “Eh?” He opened his eyes, winced at the torch that shone on his face, and spluttered as cool liquid dribbled over his face and into his mouth. “Lila?” Why was Lila throwing water at him? She’d be more likely to thump him or stab… Lila? He tried to think. No, it had definitely been a man who spoke. Lila might thump him with her make love not war banner, but definitely not stab him.

  “Not, Lila…” He knew he had that right.

  “Who…?” He squinted, but whoever it was appeared to be in the middle of a fog and floating. That couldn’t be correct, surely?

  “Nope, whoever Lila is, it’s not me. I’m Jenna, your fellow islander. She who cooks curry and teaches you Greek. The one who got your mayday call and came running and the one who … fuck.”

  “No, we don’t,” Euan said, pleased he could form words. “We don’t fuck.” He might be woozy and have a head full of cotton wool, but he remembered that and who Jenna was. He and Jenna discovered early on they were perfect as colleagues or best platonic friends but there were no sparks between them. Except when they were playing Scrabble against each other. Then the sparks flew, fast and furious. Once it had ended up with a pot of spaghetti on Euan’s head.

  He’d deserved it. Since when had euphamist been a word?

  Euan tried to move his head and a million hammers started up in unison. “Fuck.”

  Jenna nodded. “No, correct, you jughead, we don’t. Thank God. That apart, some bastard has stabbed you. Who?”

  Stabbed. “That ac … accounts for the fucking pain then.” He tried to get some clarity and couldn’t. “Dun-no… Didn’t see or hear anyone,” Euan said with an effort. “No did a bit.” He tried to concentrate. “Imp … ressions. Bloke. On way up from boathouse. Got shopping… Got clobbered, got your tampons, got a…” He winced as Jenna pressed something over his stomach. “A an … shtr … steak … ah and a stab?”

  “A stab to the stomach, and a bump on your hard head. You need a doctor,” Jenna said in a matter-of-fact way. “Like now.” Did he hear her mutter something about a cock-up? His wasn’t, it was as limp as week-old lettuce. Did that mean she knew something?

  His head throbbed and he forgot what he’d been about to say. God, why? What was going on?

  “Who did it?”

  “No idea, no… Yeah, ah … yeah, no. Get Darke. He said…” Euan began to sweat. “Said more, said … said … Re … R…”

  From somewhere, he thought he heard Jenna ask him what, but he couldn’t have sworn to it, and he couldn’t have replied to save himself. Oblivion was welcomed.

  ****

  Lila Hogg hummed to herself as she shut off the computer and tidied her surgery in preparation for going home. The last patient had gone on his way with a prescription for athlete’s foot and a reminder to use it this time. The guy was notorious for not doing as instructed. If she was told about someone who didn’t turn the electricity off and electrocuted themself, her first sentence would be to ask if it was him. With half her mind, she thought of her two days off—alone. Not the usual downtime for her. However, this weekend she had no one to think about except herself, and once she’d had a good wallow and probably shed a few tears, she intended to make the most of it. What a wuss I am, she thought wryly as she locked drawers and cupboards and made sure everything that should be secure was. That’s how life should work. You’ve done a bloody good job if it pans out that way.

  Shelly, the receptionist, stuck her head around the door. “All sorted here, no more punters, answerphone switched over to the night service details. Need me to do anything else?”

  Lila shook her head. “I’m all locked up and ready to go. Give me two secs.” She grabbed her bag and coat, looked out the window, and shuddered. “I thought someone said this was summer.”

  “They did,” Shelly replied as they switched off all the lights except the security ones and Lila turned on the alarm. “They lied.”

  “You can say that again…” The rain was like stair rods, a total veil between them and the outside world. Across the car park and narrow road, she couldn’t see the grassy park that led to the lochside, let alone the water. On a nice day, the place would be crowded with locals and trippers alike. Children paddling or playing ball, people fishing or just sitting on the benches and chatting, and on the water, local rowing boat rentals all over the place. The ice cream van would be doing a roaring trade and the burger bar ditto.

  However right there and then, the van and the bar were closed, no one was about, and it was eerie, gloomy, and almost menacing. Even the ducks had gone into hiding. Lila shuddered and put her umbrella up over her head. What on earth was the feeling of gloom and doom that hit her all about?

  Shelly pulled her hood tight and glanced at Lila curiously. “What’s up?”

  “Goose walked over my grave.” She couldn’t say, “Something bad is happening or going to happen. I’ve got a hellish sense of dread in me. Like a premonition.” She was a doctor of medicine, not a psychic. “I need a weekend of nothingness. Knackered is me. I’m not even going to cook except for putting whatever I fancy into the microwave. No nukeable, no eatable.” She mock-growled as Shelly rolled her eyes.

  “I bet you’d never recommend that to one of the patients,” Shelly commented.

  “True,” Lila agreed. “However it’s me, me, me, indulge, indulge, indulge tonight, and I’m not listening to the eat sensibly voice. And I refuse to think about puking kids, coughing adults, and all ages with blisters, bruised toes—and egos—or bloody noses. They can wait.”

  There would be a nonstop stream of phone calls on Monday of people wanting appointments that minute. Thank goodness the majority of their patients were the polite and understanding sort, who accepted some needs were more urgent than others. As one octogenarian remarked, “Who knows when we’ll be the one who needs to jump the queue?”

  “I honestly do not want to think about work, or what’ll be waiting for us come Monday,” Lila said as she won
dered why she hadn’t shoved a pair of gloves in her pocket. Her hands were cold.

  Because it’s allegedly summer.

  Shelly nodded in reply to Lila’s statement. “I bet, been manic, eh?” That was an understatement. Until that day, the weather had been lovely and the number of tourists increased fourfold, along with the numbers of people who just had to see the doctor there and then. Why go on holiday if you had something wrong with you for days if not weeks before you left home and never did anything about it until you arrived at your holiday destination? Just to spoil the time away?

  “What with the move out and all, I bet you’re glad it’s all over. Did it go okay?”

  Lila got the pang of life changing all over again. “Sure did, at last, my wee sister is away and doing her own thing. She’s all settled in, and looking forward to whatever is gonna happen. It’s me who’s jittery.” She grinned even though it didn’t feel right. “After all, I know what used to go on at St. Andrews, and I doubt it’s changed that much over the years.”

  “Students will be students,” Shelly said. “As we know.”

  “Yeah, sadly.” Lila couldn’t be enthused. “Am I being overprotective?”

  Shelly hugged her. “’Course you are, that’s what you’re supposed to be. But, hey, it’ll be fine. Don’t they say every generation learns from the generation before?”

  Lila laughed, hollowly. “Or doesn’t.”

  Shelly waggled her finger in Lila’s direction. “Oh, Miss Doom and Gloom. Okay or doesn’t. Now, pub or home?”

  “Hmm.” Lila considered it. Shelly’s naval officer husband was home on a short leave, and she didn’t want to take away any of their time together. It was therefore a no-brainer. “Home. I’m going to have a bath, a gin, and a wallow, then read a book, eat my whatever meal, and maybe even indulge in an ice cream, if there’s any left. About which I won’t hold my breath. Have two days of no mess, no clothes borrowed, and no taxi service. Hey, I might even hit the shops alone. Live my version of the high life. Then Monday back for surgery, rejuvenated. So, my lovely, hop off home, hop on Ian, and I hope you have a fab time. Oh, and remember…”

  “Have safe sex,” they chorused in union and high-fived.

  “See you Monday 8.30 AM,” Lila said and ignored the water that had snuck under the cuff of her jacket and run up her arm. “Remember if you can’t be good…”

  “Be careful,” Shelly finished. “Are you sure?”

  “Very. Always be careful.”

  “Nut, I mean about no pub. We could always ask Doddy to join us.”

  “Nope. Your time. Go forth and enjoy. Goodbye, Shelly.”

  Shelly laughed and waved. “Goodbye, boss.” She headed to the car park. Lila watched her go and turned in the opposite direction to her house next door.

  For the first time in the decade she’d lived there, it looked lonely.

  Crazy. It was a house, not a person, and she was on her way home to relax and recharge her batteries. So what if Tash wasn’t there anymore. She’d be back. It wasn’t as if Tash had walked out on Lila, anything but. Only one person had ever done that, and she’d made damned sure no one had the chance again. However, it just felt strange.

  Home alone and no one needing her to do something now, this minute. Not that Tash did that, but she’d depended on her for so long, now it was … different. Very different.

  The pace of work was manic, especially since Lila’s fellow doctor went on holiday, two weeks before. It had been at very short notice, and the locum arranged caught chicken pox from, it was thought a very spotty three-year-old he’d visited before he arrived at Lila’s surgery. There were the usual coughs, colds, and sore throats. Tourists with fishing barbs in their fingers or in one case stuck firmly in his cock. He’d been sent off to the nearest hospital and she’d heroically kept a straight face when he explained his predicament. Playing with yourself while casting the rod was maybe not a good idea, she said tactfully and managed not to roll her eyes when he’d replied he was horny. He was also, she thought—though didn’t say it—an asshole. Maybe next time he could get the hook stuck there!

  To add to that, she’d had to deal with a local who she was now going to have trouble looking in the eye, who thought he’d use his wife’s bikini line wax on his scrotum, left it on too long, clenched his legs and nigh on stuck them together. To add insult to injury, he couldn’t get it off. Then another man who said he couldn’t possibly have flea bites as only he and the dog slept in the bed. He’d hastened to add, not together. Then of course there had been things like sunburn, blisters, diarrhea, and vomiting, and sadly also more serious complaints from locals and visitors alike. She’d be glad when Rod, the other doctor, came back to work the following week. It seemed years since she’d had her last holiday.

  “Eight weeks,” she told herself severely. Before the school holidays during which neither doctor usually took a break other than scheduled ones. “And you’re off again in under a month.” The way she spoke out loud reminded her of her mum and she laughed. It was just as well there was no one around, they’d think she’d lost the plot.

  A weird itch between her shoulder blades made her uneasy. She had a quick look about but couldn’t see anyone.

  Overtired, she told herself firmly in her mind—not out loud. Just because the last time she’d experienced anything remotely similar was when someone had tried to snatch her bag in Sauchiehall Street in the center of Glasgow.

  They hadn’t managed it.

  “Thanks to … enough already.” That time she really did have to force herself not to cuss out loud. She had to try to curb that habit. If she wasn’t careful, one day it could be extremely embarrassing. People would be suggesting she went to see a doctor herself.

  Lila walked briskly up her garden path and thought that with the rain and dark sky, it looked—and felt—like six PM in November, not August. At least the forecast for the weekend was fine. Not exactly hot, but warm, semi-sunny, and next to no rain. She’d never dare think of no rain at all, that would guarantee a downpour. Nevertheless, the forecast would do and give her a chance to weed her veg patch, get her washing done, and let it dry on the line, and maybe even find time to sit in the garden with a book and a glass of wine.

  All of which sounded perfect. The idea cheered her as she fished for her door key and put it in the lock. Then froze.

  Either someone was very pleased to see her, and she had a cock trying to drill its way up her ass and it wasn’t quite finding the spot, or the same someone had pressed a gun to her back. Either way she wasn’t just going to take it.

  “The element of surprise is the key.” It was almost as if he was there, with her. Almost forgotten, never needed up until then, fragments of self-defense came to the fore, and she swung around her keys between her fingers, ready to strike for the eyes.

  Someone grunted then laughed. The next thing she knew, she was on her knees, her hands behind her back.

  “Now, now, Doc, naughty. That’s no way to follow the Hippocratic oath is it?” The voice was mocking, deep, and gruff. “Save people not maim them.”

  The voice sounded … wrong. Disguised maybe? Either way, she wasn’t going to roll over and accept it.

  “Fuck off.” Now she was mad and annoyed with herself for being so unaware. Lila tried to twist around to see who held her captive. She didn’t make it.

  “Give over.” Definitely growled, definitely disguised.

  Held hostage by a bear? Oh, for fuck’s sake.

  “Sod off, what the hell do you think you are doing? Assh …ooft.” Someone knew their pressure points and how to use them. Lila’s world faded.

  Her last thought was that it wasn’t the way she’d expected to start her weekend.

  Chapter Two

  Euan managed to half sit up, propped against the bedhead and with a crude bandage around him. Heaven knew if it was right and proper. He couldn’t remember, couldn’t think of even basic first-aid. Did he do it or did … did… He searched his mind.
Jenna, he came up with triumphantly. Did Jenna do it?

  Do what? His fuzzy mind wondered. The bandage or … no, not the or. The injury. He was damned sure a man attacked him. A man who said…

  “Darke.” He had to warn Darke. Euan pondered on his next move. Sadly, he had no bloody idea what it would be. If he tried to change position, the pain made him sweat and wonder if he was a goner.

  Stay still, you bugger.

  Sod’s law that one group of operatives on a refresher course had left the day before and the next lot weren’t due until Monday. Some bloody operative he was. First rule, be alert. Where was his alert when he needed it?

  Euan did a mental check, or as much of a check as his woolly brain would allow in his state of health. First, the crack on the head. No skin broken, just a bloody big bump. The wound in his stomach, he wasn’t so sanguine about. Not only did it fucking hurt, he was uneasily aware it still bled, albeit sluggishly, and he couldn’t see well enough to decide if he should do something or leave it until Jenna came back from wherever she was, and he got her to help. He was somewhat hazy, but he thought, just thought, she’d said she was off for help. Fuck knew where she’d find that.

  Some bloody medic he was. Physician heal thyself? Not a fucking chance there. He wasn’t a contortionist.

  His mouth was like the bottom of a budgie’s cage, whatever that was, and he wanted a drink. Whisky would be preferable, but water would do. Sadly, he had neither. Maybe he’d just die of thirst.

  Melodramatic or what? Sod it to hell. Euan tried to move, went dizzy, and swore as the pain increased to epic proportions. Maybe he’d just not move for a while. He closed his eyes and began to think of better times

  Of Lila in bed, Lila on the beach, and Lila as he told he loved her. Lila laughing, singing out of tune, dancing around the garden with a crown of daisies on her head. Decorating him with daisies and buttercups, and saying she loved him back.