Chapter One
Sparks waterfalled to the concrete floor, spattered, guttered and died into nothing around my boots. The air was filled with the firework smell of welding and my face was sweaty and itching under my mask. The radio twittered away on the shelf but I hardly registered the newsreader’s dull, professional catastrophizing. I rarely did. The real world didn’t intrude here and that was just the way I liked it.
“You’ll need to grind that back.”
I straightened and accepted the mug Clem held out without replying. I knew it needed grinding. He knew I knew. I’d stopped being Clement Dalgleish’s apprentice and become his partner more than a year before, but the old man hadn’t changed much more than a pair of socks in all the time I’d known him.
I sipped the coffee, grimacing at the slightly oily taste, and checked over the rust repairs on the 1969 Morris Oxford, my sweat rapidly cooling in the chill air. When further commentary wasn’t forthcoming, I looked up to see Clem staring at the radio, his heavy white brows drawn together
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” he grumbled, glaring into his own mug. “Just this shit.”
“The coffee?”
He grunted and jerked his head at the radio. I made myself focus on the flat, English voice.
“Whereas there has been no direct link established between the disappearance of what are now being called ‘Blood dealers’ and any registered haemophiles, anti-haemo protest groups are labeling them ‘revenge kidnappings’, executed in retaliation for the capture and abuse of haemophiles at human hands. Haemophile Blood-dealing is still a highly controversial topic, sparking heated debate on both sides with no satisfactory resolution in sight. The public is now demanding a review of the investigation into Shelly Morris’ murder, which is still popularly believed to be an act of haemophile violence.
“Haemophile spokesperson Ivor Novák has assured the government that all haemophiles registered in the UK abide by their registration laws and would never take matters into their own hands, but the human public remains far from reassured.”
I switched the channel. A jaunty pop tune rattled out of the tinny speaker. It set my teeth on edge, but the round lines of Clem’s large frame eased. He ambled back to the open bonnet of the 1964 Austin Healey and bent into the cavity. I stared at the radio a moment longer, something unwelcome ghosting under my belly, then shook my head and strode across the workshop to turn the bar-heater on.
“Any idea what that’ll do to the electric bill?” Clem grumbled from the depths of the Austin’s engine.
“It’ll be snowing before the end of the month,” I replied, taking the air filer from the tool rack. “Personally, I’d struggle to work if my fingers dropped off.”
“Wear gloves,” he retorted, but he was staring into the Austin’s engine and I knew he wasn’t even aware he was arguing with me.
I started to file back the weld on the Morris, relieved that whatever had been unsettled in the air had gone.
“Alec. Alec.” Clem had to bark my name twice before I heard him over the grind of the filer.
“What now?”
Clem nodded toward the front door. A dark, heart-shaped face framed by black curls was pressed against the glass, frowning into the dim interior. She waved as I approached the door, a smile warming her face.
“We’re closed.”
“Very funny,” came her muffled reply. “Let me in, will you? It’s bloody perishing out here.”
I unbolted and opened the door, shuddering in the gust of winter air that rushed in with her. “What are you doing here, Meg?”
“I’m on my way back to Glasgow,” she said, smiling that wide, brilliant smile of hers. “Been up to Inverness for a meeting.”
“You’re a long way off the A9.”
“So even social calls aren’t allowed anymore?”
My gaze slid over her shoulder to where Clem stood chewing on something and watching our exchange with interest. I nodded to an interior door and led her through to the cluttered kitchen.
“Uh, drink?”
“I’d kill for a coffee.”
I fired up the coffee machine. It rattled and shuddered as Meg shed her powder-blue coat and cashmere scarf.
“You’re looking thin, Alec,” she said. “Is everything okay?”
“Of course it is.”
“You’ve not been ill? The damp in that old place—”
“Meg”—I cut her off—“I’m fine. Was there something you needed?”
She pressed her lips together, her sloe-black eyes full of concern. “It’s just been a while. That’s all.”
“I’ve been busy,” I said, pouring coffee into our least filthy mug.
She wrapped her hands around it but didn’t drink. “So business is picking up?”
“It’s steady.”
“Well, that’s good news.” She raised the mug, sipped and her face twisted.
“Yeah, I know. It’s all the Aviemore Co-op stocks. But it’s strong.”
She took another careful sip. “I’ll need it if I’m gonna stay awake long enough to get home.”
“How’s everything with you?” I said, because all I could hear in the silence that followed was her waiting for me to ask.
Her smile broadened. “Good, thanks. Really good. I got the division leader position and we’re expanding. I get to hire an assistant.”
“That’s great.”
She narrowed her eyes. “You don’t even remember me telling you about the division leader job, do you?”
I raised my eyebrows. “’Course I do. You mentioned it the last time you rang.”
“Which was?”
“I don’t know. A few weeks ago?”
She raised her eyebrows. “Try three months, Alec.”
I fought a sigh. “I’m sorry. This place… It keeps me busy.”
“It keeps you isolated. Well, that and your nonexistent broadband.”
I clamped my mouth shut on the immediate reply. “Okay, Meg, you’ve checked in on me and I’m clearly alive. Is there anything else?”
She set the mug aside. “I just can’t get my head around why you barely come down anymore. It’s been forever since you and David—”
I scowled. “Meg—”
“Let me finish,” she said, firmly. “It was painful, sure. He hurt you. I know that. But cutting yourself off from all human interaction isn’t healthy.”
“What about Clem?”
“He barely qualifies as human.”
“And what if I’ve decided I don’t like humans?”
She sighed. “Believe me… I know how much my brother can screw people up. But when I think of you out here…” She cast her eyes around the messy kitchen then out of the window to the rolling hillside and the gray sky hanging low over the black mountains.
I took another long moment to marshal my response. “I like it here.”
“You never used to.”
“It’s different now.”
She nodded, but I could tell it was more in acknowledgement than agreement. “So long as you’re happy.”