Chapter 14
Chapter Fourteen
Tea Talker
Everything happened quickly once Ariah announced that Mason was going to the back to await the Healer.
Rowen had watched the brief exchange between Mason and Ferne, feeling awkward and intrusive, even though they had asked her to remain.
That didn’t change as she helped Ferne get him to the back of the shop.
His breath rasped in the silence—harsh, uneven, and laced with pain. Sweat covered him by the time they sat him on the sofa. Rowen started to back away, but he grabbed her hand. The beseeching look in his eyes took her aback.
He held her gaze for a long moment. “Don’t leave.”
“She’ll be right here,” Ariah told him.
Rowen squeezed his hand and nodded reassuringly.
His fingers slowly slipped from hers as Ariah and Ferne laid him on his back.
Rowen scanned the room, taking in the shelves of tea, the long table where Ariah evidently mixed the brews, and the small desk off to the side.
She backed away another few steps and fought not to rush to Mason’s side when she caught his wince of pain.
He didn’t need her now. He was in Ferne’s and Ariah’s capable hands, with a Healer on the way.
Rowen fidgeted, crossing her arms over her chest before letting them fall to her sides and then crossing them again.
She bit her lip as Ariah lifted Mason’s shirt and saw the bandages along his left side covering the laceration.
Ariah dropped to her knees and removed the bandages, along with Rowen’s poultice. The Druid lifted the herbs to her nose and sniffed. She slid her golden brown eyes to Rowen. “You did this?”
Rowen nodded.
“It helped,” Mason said, his voice tight.
Ariah set aside the compress. “Of course, it did. Smart thinking, Rowen.”
“Bloody hell,” Ferne murmured when she saw the long, jagged wound curving down Mason’s side.
Mason swallowed loudly. “Looks worse than it is.”
“I was in a hurry,” Rowen explained about the stitching. “The bleeding was severe, and I had to get the wounds closed.”
Mason rolled his head, his gaze meeting hers. “You saved my life. That’s all that matters.”
Concern deepened the frown on Ferne’s brow as she turned to Rowen. “Thank you for taking care of him. You told me he was hurt, but I didn’t think…”
She trailed off, unable to finish. Rowen flashed her a quick smile in understanding. The sight of Mason’s wounds had startled her, as well.
Ariah studied the laceration for a long minute before climbing to her feet and gazing at his leg.
“Cut the bloody pants,” Mason stated. His eyes were closed now, one arm thrown over them as if being awake was too much.
Rowen imagined that it was. She quickly looked around and found a pair of scissors before grabbing them and heading to the sofa. “Let me,” she urged.
Both Ariah and Ferne stepped back to give her room. Rowen grabbed the material and lifted it. Just as she was about to cut into the fabric, she glanced at Mason to find his eyes slitted, watching her.
His lips quirked in a grin. “I think I should’ve left the shorts on.”
“I was just thinking that,” she replied, then she cut into the pants, opening a hole large enough to encompass the bandage on his thigh.
Rowen had no idea how Mason could tease now. Then she caught sight of Ferne and understood. His sister was witnessing just how close to death he had come. It had to be hard to reconcile that with the anger she had carried for weeks.
Once again, Rowen moved away so Ariah could get to the wound. The silence in the room was broken only by the customers’ voices in the shop drifting to them.
“A single stab wound,” Ariah stated.
An image of the interior of the Aston Martin flashed in Rowen’s mind. A single stab that had bled profusely.
“What the hell was Thomas doing, attacking you with weapons?” Ferne demanded.
Mason’s lips flattened. “I wasn’t prepared for it.”
“Why would you be?” Ariah asked. “We’re Druids. We fight with magic.”
Ferne’s lips twisted. “Carlyle will go nuts when he finds out.”
Ariah moved to the jars of tea and herbs and started taking several off the shelves to place on the table. Rowen switched from studying Ariah to Mason. His breathing had evened out, and she thought he might have fallen asleep. Minutes ticked by as they anxiously awaited the Healer.
Suddenly, Ariah was beside her. In a soft voice, she said, “Drink this.”
Rowen looked down to find a cup of tea. She was tired, anxious, and worried.
She didn’t bother asking what it was, she simply drank.
There was a soft floral note that lingered on her tongue.
Lavender, perhaps? There was no jolt, just a quiet settling.
A warmth that curled in her chest and spread low, like an exhale after a held breath.
After each sip, the taste deepened. The hum of herbs, a whisper of spice, and something else she couldn’t name.
All of it smoothed the edges of her thoughts and calmed her anxiety like the comfiest blanket.
She was still tired, but not as restless or on edge now.
Ariah had also given Ferne a cup of something.
Rowen wanted to know what had been put into hers and made a mental note to ask Ariah later.
She didn’t want to interrupt her as she was mixing more blends.
That’s when Rowen saw her adding magic to one batch.
She knew without a doubt that Ariah had added some to hers, and she was thankful.
“Ferne?” called a deep, Scottish voice.
Rowen turned toward the doorway to see a tall, handsome man in a suit enter.
He had dark, wavy hair trimmed short and deep brown eyes.
He opened his arms, and Ferne eagerly walked into them.
The affection between them told Rowen he must be the man Ferne had fallen in love with.
They shared a few quiet words, then the man looked up at her.
Rowen smiled at being caught staring, hoping she hid her embarrassment.
The man and Ariah exchanged a nod in greeting before his dark eyes swung to the sofa. Mason was finally sleeping. She could tell by the way the lines around his mouth had smoothed. When Rowen thought the man might wake Mason, she stepped closer to the couch, ready to stop him.
The newcomer’s dark gaze studied her for a long minute before he dipped his head. “I wouldna disturb him,” the man whispered. “I merely wished to look at his injuries.”
Rowen reluctantly stepped away, but stayed close enough to…do what, exactly? She was outnumbered if those three turned on her. She had gotten used to looking after Mason in their short time together, but it was clear that he didn’t need her anymore.
When the man finished studying Mason’s wounds, he held out his hand to Rowen. “I’m DI Theo Frasier.”
“Rowen Thornevale. What’s a DI?”
“Detective Inspector,” Theo explained, keeping his voice low. “His injuries are grave.”
Before she could answer, there was a commotion at the door. Rowen spotted two women and a man standing at the threshold, eyeing Mason. Ariah hurried to them.
“We might need to move to the side,” Theo urged Rowen.
She backed up with Theo as Ferne approached them.
Ariah stayed with the trio lined up along the edge of the couch.
A heartbeat later, the three held their hands over Mason and began chanting.
The words sounded foreign and familiar at the same time, and a strange stillness fell over the room as the Healers’ magic swelled.
Rowen wished she had a phone to record the words so she could play them back later to decipher them.
Magic filled the room, swirling around them like unseen fingers stretching out from the trio.
If she could feel the periphery of their power, she couldn’t imagine what it felt like to have the full force directed at her like it was with Mason.
The trio blocked her view of him and made it impossible for her to witness any healing, though she tried.
She had a partial view of his face, where his arm was thrown over his eyes.
He hadn’t moved, at least not that she had seen.
She didn’t know if he was awake or still asleep, or if it even mattered.
There were no Healers on the San Juan Islands.
This was her first encounter with any, and she was intrigued by the process.
Healers in the States were hard to come by, and any community that found one did whatever they could to keep them. And Skye had three.
It was unimaginable.
As soon as it had begun, it ended with the Healers lowering their arms. The woman in the middle turned to them and said, “There was some damage to his muscles, but we got it all repaired.”
“Thank you, Lucy,” Theo said. “Thanks everyone.”
Ferne nodded, smiling. “Yes. Thank you all.”
The Healers left without any fanfare. Rowen didn’t see any payment involved, but that might have been taken care of beforehand. That was how it was back home.
“What now?” she asked.
Ariah’s head cocked to the side. “Do you not have Healers?”
“Not where I’m from. They’re rare, difficult to come by, and expensive,” Rowen answered.
Theo’s brows snapped together. “You pay yours?”
Rowen looked between the three. “You don’t?”
“We did sometimes in London,” Ferne said. “It depended on many factors. Most times, the payment was some form of trade or favor.”
Ariah shook her head. “We don’t pay here. Our Healers are here to help the Druid community when we need it.”
“You’re lucky,” Rowen murmured.
Theo grunted before he looked at the sofa. “Rhona will want to talk to him. I’d like to question him myself.”
Protectiveness shot up in Rowen as she walked to the couch. “You act like he’s the villain here.”
“We’re being cautious,” Theo said.
Ferne touched his arm and walked toward Rowen. “The London and Edinburgh Druids have tried to infiltrate our group for weeks now. We need details.”
“Then you’ll need them from me, too,” she stated.
Theo dipped his head and put his hands in his pockets. “Aye. We will.”
“Let’s allow Mason to recover here,” Ariah said. “We can figure out if he and Rowen will go to the manor or elsewhere.”
“You don’t get to decide where we go,” Rowen stated. “London tried to order me around, and I refused to take it from them. I’m not going to take it from you.”
Ferne’s green eyes filled with unease. “We’re not London.”
“Then don’t act like it. Look what they did to Mason,” Rowen said, motioning to him.
Ariah held up her hands. “I understand your concern, Rowen, but we’re not the enemy.”
“That’s not what my people have been told.” Her words brought a quick halt to the conversation.
Finally, Theo chuckled, the sound dry and humorless. “Let me guess. You heard that from London.”
Rowen glanced at Mason to see if he was still asleep. “The news has traveled around, and it’s been on message boards. I can’t tell you who posted it or where it came from.”
“When?” Ariah asked.
Rowen shrugged. “About a year or so ago. I don’t really remember. From there, stories of how the Skye Druids attack other groups continued to spread.”
“Bloody unbelievable,” Theo murmured, raking a hand through his hair.
Ferne shook her head in denial. “That isn’t us. We’re fighting, but only the Druids like London and Edinburgh who come here to hurt us.”
“That’s what Mason told me.” Rowen made her own decisions. Period. If any Skye Druid tried something, she was gone. Even if she had to load Mason into the car herself.
Ariah leaned her hip against the table. “If you think we’re so vicious, why are you here?”
“I wanted to see for myself. And,”—she paused, drawing out the word—“Mason needed medical attention. He wouldn’t take it in England.
All he wanted was to get to Ferne. He has been adamant that you are the good guys.
I came to England to discover the truth about London.
I did. Now, I’m here to learn about Skye. ”