Shoulder the Skye (Skye Druids #2)(13)
Author: Donna Grant
It was the only reason he didn’t think she was controlling it. It would exhilarate someone who wielded that kind of power to have the mist around them. Bronwyn remained still long after the mist shot up into the sky. Then, she went back to eating her peanut butter off the spoon before turning on her heel and walking into the house.
Elias lowered his binoculars and sighed. After learning who Bronwyn was, it was simply a matter of subtly asking the right people some questions. Most had nothing bad to say other than she was a drough now. That stigma held a lot of implications—none of them good.
Getting a feel for how the locals viewed someone he was looking into was always his first step. His second was to search the internet. He found out enough that he didn’t bother Sabertooth. Yet.
What he knew so far was that she was an only child and heir to the Stewart estate, which consisted of the manor built in 1783 and the twenty-two acres of land. Her mother, Arabella, drowned when Bronwyn was just seventeen, and the way Bronwyn had stared at the loch, Elias suspected that was where it had happened. Her father, Robert, died unexpectedly a few months ago during a trip to Inverness. The reports said that Robert died of a heart attack, and it was some time after Bronwyn returned his body for burial on Skye that she became drough. That was enough to make Elias wonder about Robert Stewart’s death.
He sat on the cold ground and propped one foot on the earth, resting an arm on his knee and slowly moving his gaze over the estate. It was overgrown and in need of maintenance. The three-story manor had a few dead plants around, but it was winter.
He’d been watching the house for hours and had seen no movement that indicated anyone was inside. He’d begun to think Bronwyn stayed elsewhere when a light on the main floor clicked on. She had walked outside to look at the loch a short time after.
It gave him time to study her through the lenses of his binoculars, though he could describe every detail of her face from seeing her at the co-op. Oval face, stubborn chin, and full, luscious lips. Rich, dark brown hair she parted on the side with the thick, straight length falling to just brush the tops of her shoulders. It had been tousled that day as if she had run her fingers through it repeatedly.
Brows of deep brown curved elegantly over hazel eyes a mixture of pale green, gold, and copper. Those orbs had sucked him in, holding him transfixed as nothing ever had before. She was strikingly beautiful. He’d been able to think of little else since their encounter. Thanks to Elodie, he knew why Bronwyn had looked familiar.
Tonight, he saw the woman in her element, at her haven, though she wore somberness tightly around her like a cloak. It was almost as if she steeled herself for something. Elias’s thoughts immediately went to the thin man who had stopped Bronwyn earlier. Was he somehow involved?
The more Elias learned about Bronwyn, the more he realized she was a mixture of metaphors. She was courage and fire. She was reserved and independent. She was bold and undaunted.
But she was also uncertain and restless.
He wanted to know everything about her. Not only because he was utterly captivated by her but also because he recognized the isolation he’d once dealt with after leaving Skye. His mother was still alive, but he had lost both parents in a single day. He understood how that changed a person forever, especially when the circumstances were alarming and disturbing.
Elias had been lucky and found the Knights—or rather they had found him. Otherwise, he wasn’t sure where he would’ve ended up. Perhaps he would’ve become drough himself. What he knew was that a Druid didn’t decide to become a drough lightly. There was no going back from it. Something or someone had pushed Bronwyn to that point.
And he intended to discover what or who.
He knew Sabryn and the others wouldn’t be happy about it, but they’d understand. The Knights weren’t just about tracking down Druid murderers, they were also about helping Druids who didn’t think they had anyone else to turn to.
Elias had no idea how he would juggle this with everything else. The mist had tried to kill him and Elodie. No one had seen it for days—until tonight. He didn’t know what that meant, but he needed to tell everyone. If the mist was back, more killings would likely follow.
He wanted to know why it had targeted him and Elodie but not Edie. Or maybe it hadn’t gotten to Edie yet. His stomach clenched at the thought of his niece and nephew getting caught up in all of this. He needed to discover who controlled the mist and learn what they were after. That was the only way to stop it.
As for George and her allegations, that would hopefully be over soon. Though he knew it wouldn’t be. The police took things like that seriously. They would investigate him, which would bring up his past—something he’d hoped would stay buried. But George had other plans. It was just someone else targeting him when he didn’t know why.
Elias rose and took one more look at Carwood Manor. The night was quiet and still, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that he wasn’t the only one watching Bronwyn. He’d have to delve into that later. Right now, he had to alert the others about the mist.
“Un-fucking-believable,” Rhona stated as she paced.
Balladyn sat in the chair and watched her. She had been fuming since Frasier’s visit a few hours ago. Balladyn was also agitated, but if he let it show, it would only increase Rhona’s ire. The Druids on Skye looked to her. She needed to be unruffled and impartial, but first, she had to get the influx of emotions out of the way.
“Who the bloody hell does she think she is?” Rhona demanded.
He opened his mouth to answer, but she kept talking.
“George has canceled on us three times. Three!” Rhona shouted, her green eyes flashing as she locked on him before whirling to pace in the opposite direction, her long, red tresses fanning out behind her. “And now she goes to Theo and tells him that she has proof about Elias?” Rhona shook her head angrily. “I don’t like her, honey. She comes into our territory and continues moving our meetings. I get the feeling she has no intention of talking to me.”
“She doesn’t want to meet here. It’s your home. You have the advantage,” Balladyn said.
Rhona snorted loudly. “Too bloody bad. I don’t care if that makes her uncomfortable. I’d do the same if I were in Edinburgh and making a claim against one of her people.”
“She’s not you.”
“Damn right, she isn’t. The nerve of her going to Theo instead of letting me investigate. She hasn’t even told me anything herself. I’m hearing it from others.” Rhona threw up her hands and let them slap against her legs.