Shoulder the Skye, page 28
She opened her eyes and looked at the Englishman. He gave her a nod. Bronwyn blinked rapidly to stop the tears. She took a deep breath and slid her gaze to Elias. “Then I thought of you. Of…us. As I told you upstairs, it shoved aside the darkness within me and cleared my head. That was when I stopped the mist.”
“And the mist attacked you,” Elias said.
Sabryn frowned. “It didn’t kill Bronwyn, though.”
“There must be a reason for that,” Balladyn said.
Bronwyn grew uneasy at the Reaper’s words because they were true. Why hadn’t the mist taken her life? She had felt its anger.
“We still don’t know who shattered the windows,” Finn said into the silence.
Bronwyn cleared her throat. “Actually, we do. The house showed me all of it upstairs. It was the manor who took the initiative and protected us.”
“It protected you,” Elias said.
Rhona nodded. “I agree. The connection you have to the house is something I’ve not see before. We’re glad it stepped in. Otherwise, none of us would be here now.”
“Bloody hell,” Finn replied in a hoarse tone. “The manor.”
Bronwyn watched as everyone looked around them as if seeing Carwood for the first time. She smiled as she sensed their appreciation and gratitude, and she knew the house did, too.
“So, what now?” Sabryn asked. “Sydney seems to be taken care of. What about George?”
Rhona sighed. “There are few Skye Druids who might remember that we have a prison of sorts. It’s deep within the Red Cuillin. I recently had to make use of it for a short while, and I was tempted to transport the group who attacked tonight.”
“Tempted?” Carlyle said, one brow raised. “I take that to mean you didn’t?”
“I did not. Times have changed, and while it might have been acceptable to put Druids away before, I’m not inclined to do that without good cause,” Rhona said.
Elias jerked back as if struck and angrily asked, “And them attacking us wasn’t a good cause?”
Bronwyn had to agree with him. If anyone should be locked away, it was the five they had battled earlier. But she was a blood magic practitioner, and she thought it better to keep her mouth closed for the time being.
“If you didn’t take them to your prison, then where are they?” Finn asked.
Rhona turned her head to Bronwyn. “I didn’t lie to Beth. Something in Sydney’s mind broke at the sight of the mist. He’s in a psychiatric hospital under observation to determine the extent of the damage to his mind. I’m not sure he’ll ever get out.”
“That means Beth and I are free of him.” Bronwyn sighed in relief. She might have done irreparable damage to her relationship with her cousin, but at least Beth wouldn’t be under Sydney’s influence any longer.
Sabryn tucked her hair behind an ear. “And the others?”
Rhona hesitated a moment. “They’re with Theo at the police station where various charges are pending.”
“Then nothing is finished.” Finn shoved to his feet and sighed loudly. “Elias is still being looked at for murder.”
Elias nodded slowly. “I’m going to talk to Frasier today. It’s time.”
“You won’t be going alone,” Sabryn said.
Carlyle stretched his legs out. “No, he will not.”
“That’s probably a good idea,” Balladyn told them. “You all can account for Elias during the time that George is claiming he killed.”
Finn rocked back on his heels. “Gladly. Except none of us were with him the night Sydney’s man was killed.”
“We’ll figure something out,” Sabryn stated.
Rhona’s green gaze moved to Bronwyn. “I’d like a private word, please.”
“Nay,” Elias stated.
Bronwyn gave him a quick smile. “It’s okay. I was expecting this.”
“I wasna,” he replied.
She walked to him and took his hands in hers. “Go talk to Frasier. We’ll meet back here.”
He searched her face before nodding once. “There are things we need to discuss.”
“There are,” she agreed.
Elias leaned down and pressed his lips to hers in a soft, lingering kiss. “You’re no’ alone,” he whispered.
“I know,” she said as she squeezed his hand.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Bronwyn wasn’t prepared to find herself taken from the manor to Rhona’s house in a split second. Yet that’s exactly what had happened. She looked around the homey cottage and immediately missed the manor. She had agreed to the discussion at Rhona’s, and there was no going back on that now.
“Tea?”
Bronwyn turned her head to see Rhona walking toward the kitchen. “I’m fine, thanks.”
There was no sight of Balladyn now. Bronwyn wasn’t sure how that made her feel. She drew in a shaky breath.
“I wish you felt you could’ve come to me,” Rhona said, her back to Bronwyn as she filled the electric kettle with water.
Bronwyn clasped her hands together to keep them from shaking. She had much to answer for. Turning drough, using blood magic, not reporting her father’s murder, and kidnapping and imprisoning Beth. The outcome couldn’t be good, no matter how she looked at it.
“If it makes you feel better, I wouldn’t have gone to Corann, either,” Bronwyn told her.
Rhona turned the kettle on. As the water heated, she crossed her arms over her chest and faced Bronwyn. “I have to admit it does—a little. Our community has survived all these thousands of years because of the structure we have in place. I used to balk at it, but I see the sense in it now.” She paused and reached for a mug. “I’m still learning. Corann never prepared me for any of this. I had no idea he wanted me to take his place. I’m sure he thought he had many years before his time was finished.”
“But here you are.”
Rhona grinned. “But here I am. I don’t know the right answers. I have to follow my instincts and fall back on the things we’re taught. The deputies handle the majority of the issues. The larger things fall to me.”
“Like someone becoming drough.”
“Like that. Elias explained a lot to me. I wish it had come from you, though.”
Bronwyn lowered her gaze to the floor for a heartbeat. “There are many things I wish I could take back, but what’s done is done. I could attempt to explain my emotions and what drove me to choose the paths I did, but you wouldn’t understand because you haven’t been in my shoes.”
“You’re right. The most I could do is empathize. Which I have.” Rhona motioned to the table. “Sit, please.”
Bronwyn took the chair as the kettle signaled it was ready with a beep. Rhona gathered loose-leaf tea in a holder and placed it in a mug before pouring water over it.
“Ariah makes the best teas. This one helps ease anxiety. I find that it helps. If you want to try it,” Rhona said as she set the cup in front of Bronwyn.
She inhaled and caught the scents of lemon balm and ginger. Bronwyn wrapped her hands around the mug and sighed as heat seeped into her skin. She hadn’t realized she had been shaking until that moment.
Rhona sat opposite her and folded her arms on the table. “The community’s treatment of you has been abysmal. As you know, you aren’t the only drough on Skye. Every leader of our people has made the decision to welcome any Druid who vows not to do evil.”
Bronwyn stared into the mug, watching the steam rise in wispy curls. This was it. This was what she had dreaded since deciding to seek out the extra power of being a drough. She would have to leave Skye, leave the manor. “I understand.”
“Understand what, exactly?”
Bronwyn looked up to find a frown of confusion on Rhona’s face. “I understand that you want me to leave Skye.”
“This is your home. Your family’s seat is Carwood Manor. There have been generations of Stewarts since the time of the very first Druids on Skye. You’re not going anywhere unless you decide that for yourself.”
Bronwyn could only shake her head in bewilderment. “But…I thought…”
“I can see how you would think that.” Rhona compressed her lips. “You felt the darkness.”
“I didn’t just feel it. I welcomed it.”
“As you explained earlier. However, you didn’t give in to it.”
“You have no idea how close I came.”
Rhona smiled sadly. “The difference is that you chose not to.”
“What if I’m not that strong again?”
“That is something each of us faces every day of our lives. I suspect it will be more difficult for you since you are drough, but I don’t doubt you can handle it. You faced the man who took your father’s life. Honestly, I’m not sure I could’ve turned the darkness away if I had been in your place. You worry about what you’ll do in the future, but I suspect you’ll be just fine.”
Bronwyn wished she had Rhona’s conviction. She had never felt such anger before, but really, her anger had been directed at herself—because everything that happened began with her.
Rhona reached across the table and took out the tea. She set it in the sink before returning with a spoon and honey. Bronwyn accepted them, filled the spoon, and then let the sweetener dribble into the tea, writing Elias’s name. She hoped he was faring well.
“What I brought you here to discuss was the use of blood magic,” Rhona said.
Bronwyn stirred the tea, using the time to brace herself before taking a drink. It was smooth and delicious, the flavors blending so well that neither overtook the other. She drank more before setting the mug down and meeting Rhona’s gaze. “What’s the punishment for using it?”
“You know the punishment, and it’s handed down by something mightier than anyone on this planet.”
Bronwyn nodded. “My death.”
“We know very little about blood magic or its uses. As you know, we’re never taught anything about it other than not to do it because it results in the person’s death. How did you know about it? More importantly, I’m curious what it felt like becoming drough.”
Bronwyn leaned back in the chair but kept her hands around the mug. It was the first time anyone had asked her those questions. Elias accepted her for who she was, but she suspected she would tell him every detail later.
She was impressed at how Rhona handled the situations around her and was surprised by the queries. Just as she was about to begin, Rhona held up a hand.
“One other question. What was the ceremony? How did you even know what to do?”
“When I was in Inverness, Sydney showed me a book. I know it was stolen because he crowed about that. In the tome were various ways to become drough.”
“Various?” Rhona asked, her eyes wide. “I thought there was only one ceremony.”
“You mean the one where the Druid promises their soul to the Devil?”
Rhona nodded. “That one.”
“There are others. I studied the book. So many things in there are never taught. I understand why children aren’t told about blood magic or becoming drough, but eventually, they should be. They need to understand every aspect of being a Druid. The good. The bad. And the ugly.”
Rhona’s face was lined with thought. “I believe you have a valid point.”
“Though there are different ceremonies for those who choose the path of a drough, they all result in the same ending.”
“That of darkness entering your magic.”
Bronwyn nodded. “Exactly. It’s what gives a Druid added power. And it’s heady.” She paused and licked her lips. “Have you ever felt an electrical current?”
“Aye.”
“It’s very similar to the instant rush of additional magic. I felt like I could’ve walked on water, that there wasn’t anything I couldn’t do. The blast waned, of course, but anytime I turned to my magic, it flooded me twice as powerfully as when I was mie.” The smile faded from her lips. “However, with that surplus came the darkness. I didn’t notice it at first, which allowed me to naïvely believe I could control it. It was always there, waiting for when I’d give in to my anger about Sydney.”
Rhona listened intently. “What did it do?”
“It wasn’t pushy. Nay, it was tempting, seductive. It said the things that fed my fury—and itself. Yet I still thought I’d be in control when Sydney showed up. I feared the only way I could stop him was to end his life. And if I did that, then it would be like I had given my soul to the Devil.”
“Which is what it wants.”
Bronwyn released a long breath. “Aye. The darkness won’t stop until it achieves that. I saw the different ceremonies and believed I could skirt that. It’s a trap a Druid doesn’t realize they’re in until the darkness has them.”
“We’re a community on Skye. No one, absolutely no one, should ever feel that alone. I’m sorry you believed you didn’t have anyone to turn to.”
Bronwyn drank more of the tea. Then tension inside her had begun to ease from her muscles. She stopped shaking, but the anxiety hadn’t left her completely. “A lot of things change when you become drough. Things I never knew. You hear about Druids turning to the dark for the power, and I certainly got that. And it makes it easier to take revenge. It’s what I craved when I faced Sydney and contemplated his death.”
“No one could blame you for that. I certainly don’t,” Rhona said.
“I blame myself.”
“Forgiving ourselves is sometimes the hardest thing we’ll ever do.”
Bronwyn smiled wryly. “No truer words have ever been spoken.” She took a breath and slowly released it. “You also wanted to know about blood magic. I learned about that in the book, too. The writer explained the ease of using it. And it is very easy. It’s only ever whispered about, so I expected there to be some kind of ritual or ceremony.”
“There isn’t?” Rhona asked in shock.
Bronwyn shook her head. “It’s merely a matter of using your blood with magic. My family has always used wards to protect the house from evil, curses, and the like. I added my blood to that magic and a chant to refuse entry to anyone unless I granted it.”
“I gather you then gave that power to Elias and the Knights?”
“Aye. In case something happened to me.”
Rhona sat back in her chair. “Thank you for sharing that information. I don’t suppose you still have the book?”
“It was one of Sydney’s prized possessions. I have no idea where it is now.”
“Pity. But you remember what was in it?”
“I do. Would you like me to share it with you?”
Rhona’s shoulders lifted as she inhaled. “Actually, I had another thought. How do you feel about teaching us? Starting with the adults. Then we could figure out how young we think the Druids should be before we impart such information. It’s time to stop whispering about things and fearing them. It’s time to bring things out into the open.”
“You know by doing that there will be mies who become drough.”
“That happens anyway.” She motioned to Bronwyn. “Case in point.”
Bronwyn wrinkled her nose. “True. What about the fact that my days are numbered?”
“That is something for you to consider. Do you know how long you have?”
“Not really. I used blood magic sparingly, but I’m not sure that matters.”
Rhona’s lips curved into a smile. “Then you have a lot to think on. Regardless, I’ll be implementing some changes immediately.”
When Bronwyn looked down into the mug, she was surprised to see that she had drunk it all. She did have things to think about, but right now, her mind was focused on one person—Elias.
Rhona stood. “I’m sure you’d like to see Elias.”
“I would,” Bronwyn said with a smile.
Balladyn suddenly appeared out of nowhere. He held out his arm. “I’ll take you.”
Chapter Forty
Elias sat in DI Theo Frasier’s office, drumming his fingers on the desk as he waited for Theo to return. Elias didn’t know how Saber had pulled it off, but he’d sent a video to Frasier that showed Sydney and his gang pulling into Elias’s drive and throwing a dead body out of their vehicle before speeding away.
It had completely slipped Elias’s mind that there might be cameras outside the house if he had found them within. Maybe he could’ve avoided this fiasco if he’d thought of that sooner.
The door to Frasier’s office opened, and he entered. He tossed a file onto his desk as he sank into his chair with a sigh. Then he looked at Elias. And simply sat there.
“Well?” Elias asked, brows raised.
Frasier leaned back in his chair and linked his hands over his stomach. “Forensics has reviewed the camera footage from the home you’re leasing, and they say it’s no’ been tampered with.”
Elias held back a snippy response. That wouldn’t benefit him right now. “I told you I didna kill anyone.”
“It would’ve been better had you come in earlier with that evidence.”
“With George telling anyone and everyone that I’m a murderer? Who would’ve believed me?”
“Me,” Frasier snapped as he sat forward. “Because it’s my job to follow the evidence, no matter where it leads.”
Elias nodded. “I know that. Only, her accusations were stirring up everyone. The next thing I knew, there was a dead body in my drive.”
“We’re handling the individuals involved. We’ve located the vehicle and processed the prints inside, which just happen to match the three individuals Rhona brought to us. The fourth, it seems, is in a psychiatric hospital, yelling about mist coming for him.” Frasier paused and glanced out the windows of his office before lowering his voice. “You’re all lucky it didna kill you.”
Elias blew out a breath. “We’re verra aware of that. Bronwyn thinks the one controlling it was there.”
“You mean one of those I locked away?” he asked with a frown.
Elias shook his head. “Someone else.”
“Bloody hell. Please tell me she saw a face or something identifiable.”
“Sorry. She didna.”
Frasier beat his fist once on the desk. “Fuck. I thought we were done with that.”
