Shoulder the Skye, page 22
As if to see if she were right, the two women looked around. Florence’s cheeks bloomed bright with color while Martha suddenly found her empty teacup interesting.
“You two seem awfully interested in Elias and Bronwyn,” Kerry continued.
Martha quickly said, “Elias is the killer.”
“Is he?” Kerry asked. “Who told you that?”
Martha jerked her gaze to Florence. Kerry turned her attention on the woman.
Florence shot a dark look toward Martha before clearing her throat. “The woman from Edinburgh is staying at my B&B. I…hear things.”
“You mean you eavesdrop,” Kerry stated.
“N-no, not at all.”
Kerry cut her hand through the air. “I don’t care about that. This woman? Who is she?”
“Georgina Miller, but she goes by George. She’s here to make sure Elias is arrested for the murders committed in Edinburgh.”
Kerry leaned back slowly. “Is she now?”
Florence nodded, her unease vanishing as her eyes glittered at the idea of sharing gossip. “George claims that Elias didn’t just kill people in the city but here, as well. Now that the police have found a dead body at Elias’s place, we know he’s the one murdering people.”
“Do you?” Kerry had kept up with the news on Skye, but she hadn’t known about George. Perhaps it was time to make the woman’s acquaintance. Especially if it would remove Elias as the Ancients wanted.
“George isn’t the only newcomer,” Martha whispered conspiratorially, leaning forward. “There’s a man.”
Florence kicked Martha beneath the table.
“What?” Martha asked wide-eyed.
Kerry quirked a brow and waited for one of them to explain.
Florence sighed loudly. “His name is Sydney Russell. He’s Bronwyn’s ex, who then moved on to her cousin, Beth. Apparently, Beth has been missing for weeks. Sydney believes Bronwyn is responsible somehow. He’s here to find Beth.”
“He and his four friends,” Martha said with a firm nod.
Kerry rose to her feet. “You two have been very helpful. Thank you.”
As she walked to her table, Kerry’s mind whirled with the new information. She paid for her meal and left. It was time to talk to the Ancients.
Elias tried to pay attention as everyone batted around ideas while he paced the library, but he couldn’t stop thinking about Bronwyn. He was glad he’d shared with her what’d happened with his father. It hadn’t been easy, but he’d known she would understand. And he’d been right. He didn’t necessarily feel lighter for sharing his past, but the hatred didn’t seem to feel as cloying.
His thoughts kept tripping on something Bronwyn had said about not escaping life. She hadn’t meant the words for him, but there was no denying they had struck a nerve. Because he’d been trying to escape for as long as he could remember.
He’d run from Skye and everything that’d happened with his father, and he’d kept his sisters at arm’s length because he hadn’t wanted to face the past. Now, he had hidden instead of facing things because he was being framed. All he’d been doing was running. He’d made an art form of it. Oh, he spun things to make himself feel better, said the Knights needed him and they couldn’t do a mission without him. That he couldn’t take a day or week to see his family.
Now that past had caught up with him whether he wanted it to or not. It was time to stop running, stop hiding.
“I’m going to talk to Frasier,” he announced.
The conversation halted as four pairs of eyes swung to him.
“Um, excuse me?” Carlyle asked from his position at one end of the sofa.
Finn, who sat in a chair, shook his head. “Have you taken leave of your senses? I don’t think that’s wise.”
Elias held up his hand to quiet any more remarks. “The longer I hide, the worse it makes me look.”
“While I understand what you’re saying, I don’t think now’s a good time.” Sabryn scooted to the edge of the sofa cushion.
Elias faced the group. “Frasier will return. We all know this. It doesna matter if George or Sydney told him something or if Frasier figured things out on his own, but he will keep coming to the manor until he finds me.”
“If you’re dead set on this, then at least allow my solicitor to join you,” Carlyle told him.
Finn sat forward, his brows furrowed. “Of course, he will. Elias would be stupid to go without one, and he isn’t dumb. Well, on most days, he isn’t. I’m not sure about today.”
“Why now?” Bronwyn asked.
Elias swallowed and swung his eyes to where she sat in the other chair. He wished they were alone. He wanted to kiss her again, hold her, feel himself inside her. He wanted to hear her scream in pleasure. Simply put, he ached for her. Even when they were arguing, he couldn’t get enough of her.
They’d both experienced heartache and pain that few could understand. He hadn’t grasped the truth of his life until he met her. He’d been reckless and rash for so long, uncaring if he lived or died. He knew his sisters were fine and his mother would get her life back. So, he helped everyone else when he should’ve aided himself and his family through the trauma they still didn’t talk about.
“There’s no escaping life.”
Something flashed in Bronwyn’s eyes. “I didn’t direct those words at you.”
He twisted his lips and shrugged. “I know, but it fits. I can no’ keep running. It makes me look guilty when I’m anything but.”
“Sydney is trying to frame you,” Sabryn added. “And I can almost guarantee he did that to help solidify George’s allegations.”
Elias scraped a hand down his face. Fuck, he was tired. He wished this was all a dream and he would wake in Bronwyn’s arms. “I’m going to have to prove my innocence.”
“That might be harder than you think.” Carlyle squeezed the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger as he leaned forward on the sofa. “It won’t matter how good my solicitor is if the job done to frame you is good enough.”
Finn jumped up and sliced both arms through the air. “This is fekking stupid. Stop talking like that, Elias. We need you for this battle.”
“I want to be here for it, but we need a plan B in case something goes sideways,” Elias said.
Bronwyn crossed one leg over the other. “Like if Sydney waits days to attack as he has in the past.”
“Then we don’t allow him that option,” Sabryn said.
Elias frowned as he looked her way. “What are you thinking?”
“We talk to him,” Sabryn replied.
“No. Nope. No way,” Finn stated, raking his hands through his dark hair in agitation. “What’s wrong with everyone? Are Bronwyn and I the only sane ones?”
Carlyle shot him a peeved look. “Excuse me? I’m here, too.”
Finn rolled his eyes in response.
“But Finn isn’t wrong,” Carlyle said as he looked between Sabryn and Elias. “Sabryn, you can’t show yourself to Sydney or any of his people. We need to have that advantage. And, Elias…seriously, mate, we’re counting on you for our numbers.”
Sabryn shifted sideways to look at Carlyle. “If we want to take care of Sydney quickly, then someone needs to alert him.”
“I’ll do it,” Bronwyn said. Before Elias could reply, she looked at him and added, “And I don’t have to leave the manor to do it. I’ll text him.”
Finn flipped his hand toward Bronwyn. “See? Sane.”
“How do you know he’ll come?” Elias asked, ignoring Finn.
Bronwyn glanced up at the ceiling. “He wants to know about Beth. I’ll consent to give him that information if he agrees to leave me alone.”
“He might demand to know it over text,” Sabryn said.
Finn shrugged one shoulder. “That’s easy to work around. Bronwyn can tell him he needs to come here.”
“He’ll know it’s a trap,” Carlyle pointed out.
Elias rubbed his hands over his face. “It doesna matter what we do, he’ll know it’s a ruse.”
“Unless I agree to meet him somewhere,” Bronwyn said.
Elias jerked his head up. “Nay. The house protects you.”
“I told you from the beginning that I was prepared to end this however I could. I thought I’d be doing it alone, but I have help.” She cut her eyes to Carlyle. “Even if I was coerced.”
Carlyle winked at her. “You’ll thank me later.”
“Besides,” Bronwyn continued, “I won’t allow Sydney inside the manor. I was always going to have to leave the safety of my home.”
Finn crossed his arms over his chest. “Where’s the best place for a battle on the estate? Somewhere we could see them coming but would also hide us.”
“I know just the place. It’s about five miles out,” Bronwyn said.
Sabryn slapped her hands on her legs. “All right. Then we need to talk about how we’re going to approach this. Bronwyn, you’ll need to be visible so Sydney can see you.”
“I’ll be with her,” Elias said. “He knows I’m here. If I’m no’ with Bronwyn, he’ll suspect something.”
He met Bronwyn’s gaze. She nodded, her lips softening.
Chapter Thirty-One
Kirsi stood outside at one of Skye’s various scenic overlooks, gazing out at the sea, her thoughts a jumbled mix of indecision and uncertainty. There was no denying the voice she’d heard—or its instructions. She had no idea who the woman was, why she had contacted Kirsi, or if she could even be trusted. No matter how Kirsi looked at it, she didn’t have a clear idea of what she was supposed to do. But the one thing that had been unmistakable in all of it was the warning and distress in the woman’s voice, in each syllable of every word.
That was what kept running through Kirsi’s mind.
She and her parents had gone over the dream for hours. She believed they would be able to help her unravel the tangle of emotions and theories. Instead, they’d piled more on her to consider. Like it might not have been a dream at all. Hence, why she stood out in the misty weather. As if the answer would spring up from the water.
Kirsi turned on her heel and made her way to her car. She climbed inside and started the engine. The blast of warm air thawed her chilled face. She rubbed her hands together in an effort to get her blood flowing. Then she put the vehicle into reverse and pulled onto the road. There was one person she needed to speak with.
It didn’t take too long to reach the cottage. Kirsi had never ventured to Rhona’s house on her own before. Even though Rhona should be aware of what had happened to her, Kirsi hesitated. The five deputies, each with a section of Skye, were there so the people went to them instead of Rhona. Kirsi had considered going to Violet first. She adored the older Druid, but her gut kept urging her to see Rhona.
“It’s now or never,” Kirsi told herself as she climbed out of her car.
Large drops of rain pelted her before she reached the small porch. Kirsi drew in a deep, steadying breath and knocked. She steeled herself, waiting for the door to open, but the seconds lengthened with no response.
Kirsi’s shoulders sagged. Rhona wasn’t home. She’d have to come back. She retraced her steps to her vehicle and had just opened the door when she heard her name. Kirsi’s head swung back to the cottage to see Rhona standing in the doorway.
“Come in,” Rhona beckoned with a welcoming smile.
Kirsi glanced at the sky and the angry gray clouds churning above her before dashing back to the porch. “I’m sorry to bother you, but there’s something you need to know.”
“Then I’ll make us some tea.”
Rhona closed the door behind Kirsi and watched her for a moment. Kirsi was only a handful of years younger, but Rhona didn’t know her that well. The woman had always been quiet and reserved. She was also extremely well-liked on the isle.
Rhona motioned for Kirsi to follow her to the kitchen. There, she filled a kettle with water and set it on a lit burner of the stove. Then, she turned to face the Druid. It was hard to miss Kirsi’s nervousness. Rhona smiled, hoping to ease her. “Sit, please.”
“Thanks.” Kirsi removed her coat and hung it on the back of the chair before lowering herself.
Rhona wanted to urge the Druid to get to things, but she kept silent. Kirsi would talk when she was ready. Besides, the morning had been chaotic. Balladyn was off on Reaper business, and some Druids had gone to her deputies with more than normal concerns. Yet all of that fell away as she stared at Kirsi’s pinched lips and the panic in her pale green eyes.
“I,” Kirsi began, only to pause and clear her throat. “I know I should’ve gone to Violet first.”
“You’re here now. Tell me,” Rhona urged patiently.
Kirsi placed her hands on the table and met Rhona’s gaze. “Someone spoke to me. Through a dream. Well, my parents don’t think it was a dream, but I don’t know what else to call it.”
Druids could do all sorts of amazing things. Rhona didn’t know of anyone on Skye who had the ability, but that wasn’t to say they hadn’t kept it a secret. Or it could be someone elsewhere in the world. She prepared herself in case this was another oddity to put with the other unusual and worrying things. “What did they say?”
“She kept repeating that I knew what to do.”
“She?” Rhona asked, her brows raised.
Kirsi nodded. “It was a woman. She sounded British, but I can’t be certain. I mean,”—she paused again—“I could hear her clearly, but her voice was slightly distorted.”
“Okay. Go on.”
“She told me she was reaching across time and space to contact me.”
The kettle began to whistle. Rhona removed it from the stove, cut off the burner, and got out cups and tea bags. Then she poured the water over the tea and set the cups on the table. Rhona lowered herself onto a chair across from Kirsi. “What else happened?”
“I think she’s been trying to reach me for a few days. I haven’t been able to sleep well, and I kept waking up from dreams that I couldn’t remember but seemed important. Then, it was clear. I didn’t see anything, but I heard her as distinctly as I hear you now.” She fiddled with her hands. “The voice told me that I know what to do and that I always have—in this life and hundreds before it. She said I need to look deep within myself and lower my walls. I was also told that I don’t need to see anything. That I need to feel instead. That the time is coming, and I need to be ready.”
Rhona didn’t like the churning in her stomach. The voice had been a warning to Kirsi, which could be taken as a good sign. The fact that there had to be a warning at all is what concerned her. “But the voice didn’t say what was coming?”
Kirsi shook her head.
Rhona wrapped her cold hands around the mug to warm them. “Do you know what’s coming?”
Kirsi’s brow furrowed deeply as she shook her head again. “Do you know what the woman was talking about?”
Rhona didn’t answer as she removed her tea bag and rose to throw it away, doing the same with Kirsi’s. Once she had taken her seat again, she said, “I don’t. Not yet. I only know things aren’t right on Skye.”
“Did the Fae Others do something? Maybe that’s what this is about.”
“They’ve been defeated and are gone for good. I’m not saying they didn’t do something, but I’m looking at every possibility.”
Kirsi took a drink of tea and lowered the cup. “The woman sounded frightened. For herself. And for us.”
There was much Rhona couldn’t tell Kirsi, at least not yet. The last thing she wanted was to send the isle into a panic, and that was exactly what would happen if word got out about everything she was dealing with. For the moment, it was just her and the deputies who were gradually unraveling the facts coming to light.
“I came to you because I feel this…need…to do something,” Kirsi said. “But I don’t know what to do.”
Rhona twisted her lips. “I feel that way most times. I’m glad you came to me. If you hear more, will you let me know?”
“Absolutely.”
“Also,” Rhona said hesitantly, “have you heard from anyone that their magic isn’t working?”
Kirsi’s hand holding the tea stopped halfway to her mouth. “What?”
“Word spreads quickly, so I’m sure you’ll hear it soon enough, but I would appreciate it if you didn’t say anything.”
“I promise.”
Rhona played with the handle of the mug. “A wind talker has been unable to hear the wind for over a week now. He isn’t the only one. A water dancer and a tree whisperer are having the same issues with the water and trees.”
“I’ve not heard anything like that. Is their magic gone?”
“They still have their powers, but they’re unable to communicate as they used to with the elements. It isn’t affecting everyone. Just a few.” But that number was growing, and that concerned Rhona the most.
Was the Skye Druids’ magic waning as some feared? Or was something else at work here? Rhona had to find answers soon.
“What about the mist?” Kirsi asked.
Rhona drank before answering. “What about it?”
“It isn’t gone, is it?”
“Why do you ask that?”
Kirsi shrugged. “A hunch. No one has seen anything since the last murder, but mist doesn’t kill on its own.”
“Nay, it doesn’t.”
“Do you know who’s controlling it?”
“Not yet.” But she would find out if it was the last thing she did. Her Druids were being killed on her watch. That was unacceptable.
Kirsi pressed her lips together for a heartbeat. “I want to help. I have to help.”
Rhona almost refused the offer, but then remembered the connection Kirsi and her family had to the rest of the isle. “All right. Here’s what I need from you.”
It had taken Kerry some time to lower her plump, old frame to the floor. Her bones had creaked and popped the entire time, and she was concerned that she might not be able to get back up without help. But she’d worry about that later.
She sat cross-legged in a circle of candles, then closed her eyes and whispered, “Ancients, please hear my call.”
