But what was even more curious was the fact Grayson started climbing up the ridge. I stepped away from the edge and hobbled back into the clearing. I didn’t want anyone seeing me in my current state—or guessing where I’d been. Let them think Owen Grayson wanted a better view of the disaster I’d caused. But there was nothing I could do about Grayson now, so I sat down on the bare earth and leaned against a tree. Waiting.

It didn’t take him long to climb up the ridge. He didn’t even bother to dust the mud and leaves off his jeans. Instead, he came straight to me and stopped, his violet eyes flicking up and down my body, assessing my injuries.

“You look like you’ve been to hell and back,” he murmured.

I almost managed a smile. “You might say that.”

Grayson took off his leather jacket and carefully draped it over my chest. His scent drifted up to me—that rich, earthy aroma that made me think of metal.

“Can I do anything for you?’ he asked. “The detective asked me to call your friend Finnegan Lane. I had a rather interesting conversation with him at Mab Monroe’s party last night. I don’t think Mr. Lane believed me when I told him you were standing on the ridge above the coal mine. He called me a cruel, lying bastard, but he said he was on his way. And that if I was lying, he’d beat me to death with his bare hands.”

“Finn was probably just upset. He tends to be emotional in times of crisis.”

“And what do you do in times of crisis, Gin?” Grayson asked.

I stared at him. “I survive.”

A grin spread across his face, and emotions flashed in his eyes. Admiration mixed with amusement. A look I’d never seen in Donovan Caine’s golden gaze.

“Did Donovan say anything else to you down in the basin? Anything at all?”

Grayson’s face shuttered. “Nothing important.”

His voice was so kind, so pitying, it made me want to stab him with my walking stick. I hated being pitied.

“Donovan wasn’t happy to see me, was he? He thought I’d died in that mine with Tobias Dawson and the others, and he was happy about it. Or at least relieved.” My heart twisted as I said the words, but I knew they were true.

That was the only way to explain the detective’s cold reaction to me. “He didn’t want me to be alive. Not really.”

Owen Grayson shrugged. “I don’t know what Detective Donovan Caine thinks or wants, but I consider him to be an enormous fool.”

“Why’s that?”

He stared at me. “Because he’s down there looking for Dawson, and I’m up here with you.”