The knock came just after midnight, frantic, uneven, more like someone slamming both fists against the gate than a deliberate request for entry.
"Please! Please, someone, help me!"
Erik was moving before the second strike finished, Killian a half-step behind him, both reaching the reinforced gate to find a woman on the other side, soaked through, shaking so badly she could barely stand upright.
Recognition hit before the woman even finished speaking — the pale, striking features, the dark hair plastered flat against her face, a beauty that had lodged itself somewhere in Erik's memory weeks ago despite only a handful of minutes spent in her company that first night.
"Grace," Erik said, something old and instinctive stirring in his chest at the sight of her so visibly distressed. He didn't examine the feeling too closely. "What happened?"
