Chapter 5 #2
Whoever the man was, he moved with deliberate caution, though whether to shield himself from danger or to stay a step ahead of the law was anyone’s guess.
She wouldn’t know anything about him until he woke.
She lowered the door and nodded approvingly when she found a digital lock inside.
A chill ran through her from her dress sticking to her as she slid the bolt into place.
She wanted to curl up somewhere and sleep for at least two days, but unless she was fine atop the rug over the concrete floor, she wasn’t lying down anywhere.
Rowen debated taking the car to her hotel, but given how she’d left the organization—even before she’d encountered the injured man—she wasn’t sure that was a good idea.
Staying in her wet dress, however, wasn’t an option.
She shot the still unconscious man a look of regret before digging through the cabinet for something to change into.
When she found nothing but food, she turned to a chest. Inside, she discovered clothes.
She grabbed a gray tee, the material thin from frequent wear.
Beneath it was a pair of thick sweatpants with a store tag still on them.
She snatched a set of socks for her cold feet before closing the lid and changing.
She ripped off the tag and put on the too-large sweats, rolling the waist and the bottoms just so she could walk.
Once the shirt and socks were on, she slowly warmed up as she paced in front of the cot.
When she stopped shivering, Rowen checked his bandages.
She was happy with how they looked, so she grabbed the second blanket and curled up in the chair.
The sound of rain hitting the metal roof filled the silence.
She stared at the man, watching his chest rise and fall in a steady rhythm.
As fatigue set in, her thoughts ran over the events of the night, from her arrival at the headquarters to them driving away.
She sat up frantically as she thought about her purse.
Just as she was about to rise, her gaze landed on it near the cot.
She hadn’t remembered letting it drop to the floor.
Truth be told, she didn’t remember several things about that night amid their frantic dash to leave the city.
It was funny how the mind skipped over things when a person’s life was hanging in the balance. She should call home. Her mom needed to know what she had discovered. At the very least, she should tell her family that she was okay. They would want to hear her plan, but right now, she didn’t have one.
She had no idea what the man’s name was, his connection to the London Druids, or why they’d tried to kill him.
Which, of course, meant she had no way of knowing just how deeply she had stepped in it this time.
Usually, one of her cousins was getting into something or another. It seemed it was Rowen’s turn.
Her momma always said she did best in crises, but she didn’t feel that way now, being so far from home. There was no one to turn to. No family or friends to help her. But that wasn’t exactly true. There was Senna.
The last time Rowen spoke to her cousin, Senna was in Spain, but that was over four months ago.
Senna, who was two years older, had left home in the dead of night eleven years ago, and she hadn’t stopped running since.
Rowen didn’t know the whole story, but she knew enough to know that Senna had tangled with the wrong family.
Aunt Rhea was still upset that Senna hadn’t turned to the family for help.
Rowen had thought the same thing for a long time.
Right up until she had overheard her mother and aunts whispering one night about their magic not working like it used to.
There had been fear in their voices, a kind of dread she had never heard in any of their tones before.
Things had changed after that. It was subtle, but Rowen had been watching for them. From then on, she observed and took note of everything from the Druids who came and went from the islands to how everyone acted at meetings.
It was only after Brenna had tapped her to go to London that she’d confronted her mother with everything.
Maris Thornevale had gripped her arms, a sad look in her light blue eyes. “I know you don’t want to go, sweetheart, but you must. Don’t worry about us. We’ll be fine.”
“What aren’t you telling me, Momma?”
Maris’s light blue eyes lowered to the floor for two beats. When she met Rowen’s gaze, she wore a smile. “A lot, I’m sure.”
“Don’t do that. I need to know.”
Maris sighed and dropped her arms to her sides. “We aren’t as safe here as we thought. Some of us have noticed our magic waning. We need more Druids to strengthen the islands. London could give us that.”
“There are other Druids in the States. We should go to them first.”
“We have. A few answered our call, but they either don’t stay or they can’t help. We need those from the original source.”
Rowen swallowed. “You mean the Skye Druids?”
“I do,” Maris said with a firm nod. “Word has reached us that they are attacking others, so I don’t dare reach out to them. London, however, has given us a lifeline. We have to take it.”
The memory faded as Rowen sighed. Her news about London would be yet another devastating blow to the Salish Druids.