The tires bit into loose gravel, throwing stones against the underside of the car before the engine died. Julian was out before the keys hit the dash.
I scrambled after him, my boots slipping in the mud, but he was already through the front door.
Inside smelled like wet wool and cedar. A man stood at the base of the staircase, holding a glass. He had Julian’s heavy shoulders, the same high cheekbones, the same dark hair cut close at the temples.
Julian’s arm shot out, grabbing two handfuls of the man's coat and slamming him back into the wall. The glass hit the floorboards, shattering, amber liquid soaking into the rug.
"Who are you?" Julian’s voice came out dry, low in his throat.
The man didn't fight the grip. He let his head rest back against the wood paneling, his eyes blinking sl
