Shoulder the Skye (Skye Druids #2)(18)
Author: Donna Grant

 

It was difficult not to notice how bare the manor was of pictures or anything of value. He saw the outline of past frames against the wood in places, but there was no silver or any pieces of art usually found in such great homes.

 

And there was no heat.

 

He huddled in the chair near the fire beneath a throw blanket, his eyes on Bronwyn. “Looks like you have secrets aplenty.”

 

Especially her use of blood magic.

 

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER TEN

 

 

 

 

 

“I don’t like this,” Sabryn stated as she turned from the window. She looked across the hotel room at the two men staring back at her. “Where is Elias?”

 

Carlyle Oliver, groomed since birth to inherit his father’s title and estates in England and raised with more money than anyone knew what to do with, shrugged after wiping his mouth from finishing breakfast. He wore his auburn waves long and with just enough product to keep the locks from falling into his face. His turquoise eyes held as much concern as hers. “He didn’t answer any of my calls or texts yesterday evening.”

 

Her gaze slid to the seat where Finn O’Connor sat, the complete opposite of Carlyle. Finn got his education on the streets of Dublin, learning to survive by any means necessary. Where Carlyle preferred the finest clothes, Finn didn’t wear anything but jeans and simple shirts. With brown hair so deep it was nearly black and deep brown eyes, he was the dark to Carlyle’s light.

 

But both men had saved her ass. They were family, just as Elias was. An American, a Brit, a Scot, and an Irishman. They likely wouldn’t have met except for the one thing that’d brought them all together—the deaths of fellow Druids.

 

“He’s not talkin’ to me either,” Finn replied in a heavy Irish accent. “That’s not like him. He’s in trouble.”

 

Carlyle flattened his lips as he set aside his cup of tea. “I agree. Elias knows what’s at stake right now. He wouldn’t go off-grid without telling one of us.”

 

Sabryn thought back to her last conversation with Elias. “I think I know where we’ll find him.”

 

 

 

 

 

Elias’s body was stiff as he woke and stretched. He grimaced at the painful kink in his neck. He was getting far too old to be sleeping in such a way. If he kept it up, he’d wake one day and be bent at an angle forever.

 

At least the fire was still lit, which kept the room relatively warm. He glanced at the bed to find Bronwyn still asleep. He’d checked her several times during the night, and he didn’t like that she hadn’t woken yet.

 

He stood and wrapped the blanket around himself. As he walked through the parlor, he opened the curtains to look outside. The sun was out, and while clouds that hung low and heavy in the sky approached, it wasn’t raining yet. A glance showed that Thin Man and his gang had left sometime in the night. They might have gone for now, but they’d return. He was sure of that. It made him question his decision to leave them alive. But he wasn’t a killer.

 

Not unless he didn’t have a choice.

 

Last night, he’d had a choice. Whether his decision had been the right one remained to be seen. He looked at Bronwyn over his shoulder. Only her head was above the covers. Her dark locks had dried, but her skin was too pale. He worried she had sustained injuries he hadn’t been aware of last night.

 

Elias was curious about so much with her. Like why was she alone in the huge house? Who was Thin Man, and what did he want? But more than anything, Elias wanted to know why she was drough, and why she had resorted to blood magic.

 

The Isle of Skye might be beautiful, but it could be harsh for the Druids who called it home. While their magic should band them together, it usually did the opposite. He’d learned that fear usually drove those tendencies in people, which caused them to alienate some. That left others like Bronwyn, those who should have a network available to them, to their own devices. From the little he’d seen of Bronwyn since his return, it was obvious she depended on no one but herself.

 

Was that by choice or because she had no other options?

 

He willed her to wake, to open her mesmerizing hazel eyes so he could sort through the myriad of colors once more. The part of him compelled to assist others had been very loud since the episode in the co-op. He wanted to help her. It wasn’t the most convenient time, but he didn’t care. In his years with the Knights, he’d learned to see troubles, and there was definitely an issue here that involved Bronwyn.

 

Elias sighed, no closer to finding a way to talk to her than he had been before. His gaze lingered for another moment before he left the parlor to check his clothes. They were still damp. He showered, which helped to work some of the stiffness out of his neck, but there was no getting around the large bruise on his torso—or the likely cracked rib.

 

He walked naked back to his clothes and tugged on his pants, the feel of the clammy denim causing a chill to rush over him. He grabbed his shirt and socks and brought them to the parlor to hang near the fire, hoping they would dry quicker.

 

Elias then checked Bronwyn again. The swelling in her ankle had gone down. There was that, at least. He gave her a little shake.

 

“Bronwyn? It’s time to wake, lass,” he urged.

 

But she didn’t move.

 

He tried twice more before giving up. He felt her forehead, but thankfully, there wasn’t a fever. His stomach rumbled. He needed to contact the Knights, but it was still early. He had time for a quick bite before he went looking for his mobile.

 

Elias scrounged in the kitchen and grinned in delight when he found the freshly baked bread. He toasted a couple of slices and coated them with strawberry jam. As he ate, he meandered through the downstairs and noticed the home’s cleanliness. No one else was in the house, and Bronwyn didn’t seem the kind who wanted people inside. That meant she took care of everything herself. He couldn’t imagine how much it took to keep a house this size in order. His bare feet on the wood slats didn’t make a sound as he stopped at the staircase.

 

It was wide and opulent with spots on the dark wood that still held a hint of polish near the deep blue runner with its gold swirl design. The first set went straight up to a landing with a table. Two more sets switched back on either side, going to the second story. Elias glanced at the closed parlor door before starting up the stairs. He wanted to know why Bronwyn slept downstairs. Was it because it was warmer? Or was there something more?

 

He put his foot on the first step. The walls were bare, showing additional proof in the light of day that riches had once adorned them. When he reached the second floor, he looked down the hallway, first one way and then the other. He finished off his second piece of toast and began walking the corridors. Every door was closed. It was significantly chillier up here than even in the kitchen. He tried a few doors and found them unlocked. He looked inside to find bedrooms with sheet-covered furniture.