Blood Skye

Crawford Estate, England

The night was gloomy and damp. Light rain pelted Carlyle’s oilskin jacket as he watched the estate’s side entrance from behind some bushes. His breath puffed from his lips as the dampness settled into his bones.

“Are you sure about this?”

Carlyle looked at the Irishman beside him. He and Finn had been through a lot together—all the Knights had in their quest to defend the Druids. But this was his mission. Not the Knights’. And not Finn’s. “I told you to return to Skye.”

“When do I ever do what you want?” Finn asked with a grin, his deep brown eyes sparking with amusement. He ran a hand through the wet strands of his short, dark brown hair and shrugged. “Besides, someone needs to watch your arse. You certainly aren’t going to do it.”

They’d had this argument a dozen times over the last twenty-four hours. Carlyle should’ve known Finn wouldn’t leave. And he was glad. Even if he knew it would be safer for his friend to go. Safe and Finn didn’t go together. Ever.

Carlyle’s gaze returned to the structure. Something was dreadfully wrong at the estate. Not with just the manor but also with Mason. His longtime friend wasn’t himself, as he’d proven during their last encounter. Mason had even cut off his sister after Ferne went to the Isle of Skye.

“We need a better plan,” Finn said.

Carlyle shook his head. “The plan is fine.”

“Hardly.”

“I’m not waiting another second.”

Finn blew out a breath. “Your father is smart and strong. Wherever he is, whoever has him will find him resilient.”

Carlyle prayed that was the truth. His mother had died when he was very young, leaving him and his father alone. What had developed was a close relationship between father and son. It had never occurred to Carlyle that the London Druids would go after Thomas just to get to him. But they had made a mistake in doing so.

And he was about to show them why.

“There may be better ways of getting to Devon,” Finn said.

Just thinking about her made Carlyle see red. She had been waiting for Finn and him at Thomas’s townhome to let them know the elders were aware that Carlyle had been to the Isle of Skye. Per their rules, that was grounds for banishment. She also claimed not to know where his father was, but Carlyle knew she was behind his disappearance somehow. Add that Devon was embroiled in Mason’s life, and it confirmed Carlyle’s suspicions that the corrupt London Druids were pulling the strings once again.

Carlyle rubbed his hands together to warm them. “She’s still here. That means we have an opportunity.”

Headlights bounced across the ground as a 1970s Range Rover pulled into the drive of a cottage on the estate. A man exited the vehicle and made his way to the door before entering.

“Come on,” Carlyle said as he bolted from the bushes, keeping low.

He moved around the side of the cottage and stood at the back door under the overhang. Water dripped from the awning, loudly striking the stones at Carlyle’s feet. A light turned on inside the building, spilling its glow through the glass door and out into the night, illuminating him. Carlyle’s gaze met the eyes of the man inside. Surprise flickered in the butler’s dark depths a heartbeat before he hastily unlocked the door and swung it open.

“Quick. Inside,” Billings ordered as he looked past them into the darkness.

Carlyle entered the kitchen with Finn. Water dripped onto the floor as Billings closed and locked the door behind them. Carlyle watched the servant, taking in his impeccable stature and dress to his neatly trimmed brown hair graying at the temples. Billings wasn’t just the butler. He’d been more like a second father to Ferne and Mason after their parents died in a plane crash.

Billings faced them. “Did anyone see you?”

“No,” Carlyle answered.

“Took you long enough to get here.”

Finn looked between them. “Am I missing something?”

“After your last departure, I suspected Carlyle would want my help,” Billings said.

Finn snorted. “I’m not sure we should accept it. You didn’t let Ferne talk to her brother, after all.”

“I know.” The butler sighed, his shoulders drooping, making him look years older than he was. “It was on Lord Brannelly’s orders. I tried to dissuade him, but he wouldn’t listen to reason. He threatened to let me go if I went against him.”

“Which wouldn’t give us a way to get to him,” Carlyle said.

Billings nodded. “Exactly. He kept a lot from Lady Ferne. She has no idea how deeply he’s dug into their parents’ deaths.”

“She knows some of it,” Carlyle said. “Both Mason and she believed they’d been murdered.”

Billings motioned to the table. “Sit. I’ll make some tea.” He turned toward Finn. “And you are?”

“Finn,” the Irishman answered. “Friend to both Carlyle and Ferne.”

“It is a pleasure, then,” Billings replied.

Finn wasted no time shedding his coat and sinking into a chair. Carlyle moved slower, his gaze skimming the kitchen area and Billings, looking for anything suspicious. He could trust so few now. He wanted Billings to be one of them, but the butler had to earn it.

“Lord Brannelly told his sister just enough to satisfy her. He was cautious while she was in the country, fearing repercussions.” Billings put water in the kettle and set it on the stove.

“As he should have been,” Carlyle stated.

Billings pulled three cups and saucers from the cupboard and put them on the table, along with some sugar and milk. As he did, he said, “Yes, well, be that as it may, things fell into place when the elders demanded that Lady Ferne leave the city. The moment she mentioned Skye, Lord Brannelly knew that was the answer.”

“What right do the London Druids even have to tell someone whether they can live in the city or not?” Finn asked.

Carlyle ran a hand over his jaw. “That’s the power they wield.” He looked at Billings. “Ferne going to Skye went against everything she and Mason were brought up to believe. What we were all taught to think.”

“But she was safe. As formidable as the London Druids might be, they don’t hold a candle to those on Skye,” Billings stated. “Yet.”

Finn shook his head. “Bloody hell.”

“The moment Lady Ferne departed, His Lordship went full throttle into the investigation,” Billings said.

Carlyle sat up and put his forearms on the table. “I gather that took him back to London.”

“Indeed, it did.”

“And after?”

Billings’ dark gaze dropped to the floor. “He returned as you’ve seen him. He’s not the same man I watched grow up since birth. I’ve served the Crawfords for most of my life. They are my family. The plane crash devastated Mason and Ferne, but at least they had each other.”

“And the woman? Devon?” Carlyle asked.

Billings went to the kettle when it whistled and poured the boiling water into a teapot. “She showed up alone before His Lordship returned from London. At first, I didn’t think he knew her, but then she said something to him. They’ve been inseparable since.”

“Are they sharing a bed?” Finn asked.

Billings shrugged as he brought the teapot to the table and filled their cups. “She has the room connected to his, but I assume they are.”

Carlyle looked at Finn. “Why does that matter?”

“Just wondering,” the Irishman said with a shrug.

Carlyle waited until Billings sat before he spoke. “Have there been any other visitors to the manor?”

“None.”

Finn sipped his tea. “You said Mason went out. Does he do that often?”

“He’s been back and forth to London more than usual,” Billings answered. He met Carlyle’s gaze. “I’ve not heard anything about your father. However, after your clash with His Lordship, I suspected you might seek me out for help.”

“And why should we trust you? You could be as tainted as Mason,” Carlyle replied.

Billings slowly lowered his teacup to the saucer. “I’ve given no one reason to look askance at me. I’ve done exactly as Lord Brannelly requested. And I’ve already explained how much this family means to me. You can believe me or not. One way or another, I will free His Lordship from whatever hold London has over him.”

“That might be harder than you think,” Finn replied.

Carlyle raked a hand through his wet hair and slumped back in his chair. Billings seemed trustworthy. Or maybe he just wanted him to be. It was difficult to sort through such things with his emotions getting in the way. It had been catastrophic the last time that happened.

He needed to get himself under control. And he and Finn had to get into the manor. “Our first priority is getting Devon away from here. I believe her hold on Mason will break once she’s gone.”

“But he was acting differently before her arrival,” Billings reminded them.

Finn added a sugar cube to his tea. “She was at the Olivers’ townhouse, waiting for us.”

Billings’ face sagged with concern. “I don’t suppose she mentioned anything about your father.”

“She claimed not to know anything, but she’s lying.” Carlyle stood and moved around the chair to brace his hands on the back. “She’s with London. I know they are involved in my father’s disappearance. Devon connects my dad and Mason to the London Druids.”

Billings nodded. “What do you need from me?”

“Entry into the manor,” Finn said.

Carlyle shook his head. “I know a way in.”

“Of course, you do,” Finn quipped.

Billings grinned. “You and Lord Brannelly did have a habit of sneaking out.”

“I can get us in, but I’m hoping we can get to Devon and Mason quietly. In case that doesn’t happen, I need you there to keep the servants from interfering,” Carlyle said.

The butler’s brows snapped together. “You’re taking His Lordship?”

“Just to have a chat,” Finn said.

Billings swallowed, his throat bobbing. “What are you going to do with Devon?”

“Depends on if she tells me what I want to know,” Carlyle answered.

Finn made a sound in the back of his throat. “It would be better if we could get to them at the same time.”

“Mason won’t go easily,” Carlyle acknowledged.

Finn chuckled. “I don’t expect Devon will either.”

“What if you don’t have to take them off the estate?” Billings asked.

Carlyle studied the butler as he straightened. “You mean keep them on the grounds? I don’t think that’s a good idea. One of the servants might stumble upon us.”

“They could hear or see something, too,” Finn added.

Billings’ lips curved slightly. “Has it been so long since you and His Lordship had the run of the place that you’ve forgotten about the old mill in the northeast part of the estate? It hasn’t been used in years.”

It would keep London from speaking to Mason. But would it hold him for long enough? Carlyle rubbed the back of his neck and felt Finn’s probing look. It was the same type Finn had worn when he argued that taking only Devon wouldn’t do much but put more of a target on their backs.

“You know getting them at the same time is the answer,” Finn said. “I’ve said it from the beginning. I’ll handle Mason.”

Carlyle blew out a breath. “It should be me. We have a history.”

“And that’s why it needs to be me.”

Finn was right. Besides, with the right persuasion, it was possible Devon could lead him to his father. “All right.”

“Wait,” Billings said as he got to his feet. “Don’t you need a place for Devon?”

Finn flashed the butler a wide smile. “We already have that.”

Carlyle opened his mouth to speak when both his and Finn’s mobiles buzzed. There was only one word on the screens:

DESTROY.

Neither wasted a single moment in obliterating their phones. Carlyle looked up and met Finn’s gaze. The other members of the Knights—Sabryn and Elias—knew that he and Finn were in England, but they didn’t know where. Sabertooth, their white-hat hacker and all-around electronic guru, knew their exact location. But he had sent the message. And it was one they had never gotten before. It meant trouble. The Knights had been compromised. Which meant the rest of their friends on Skye could also be in trouble.

“You should return to Skye. They might need you,” Carlyle urged Finn.

Finn rolled his eyes. “You might want to clean out your ears. You don’t hear so well. I’ve already told you that I’m not leaving. Besides, this is a two-person job.”

“I can help,” Billings said.

Carlyle shook his head as he looked at the butler. “You’ve stayed out of the crosshairs so far. I want it to remain that way. London will come when they can’t get ahold of Devon or Mason. If they think, even for a moment, that you’re involved, they’ll use whatever force necessary to get information out of you.”

“I can handle it.”

Carlyle glanced at Finn. He didn’t need words to know they were both thinking it would be better if Billings had no memory of their conversation. Carlyle drank the last of his tea and carefully set the cup on the table. “Thank you for the tea, Billings.”

“Of course.”

Carlyle waited until Finn walked to the door before whispering, “I’m sorry, Billings.”

The butler never saw the spell envelop him. Carlyle caught the man before he hit the floor, and together, he and Finn carried him to the sofa. When he woke in a few moments, he wouldn’t remember anything.

Before they left, they cleaned up any evidence of their appearance and slipped out of the cottage. The storm had turned into a downpour. While annoying, it also made it more difficult for anyone to see them as they raced to the manor.

They reached it without incident. Carlyle scaled up the corner of the building to the second floor and scrambled over the edge of the balcony before climbing to the third level. He had to hold onto the wet stone ledge by only his fingertips as he shimmied to a small window. Water kept dripping into his eyes from his hair, and no matter how many times he shook his head to get the strands out of the way, they kept falling back.

He pushed at the window, but it held firmly—too firmly from what he remembered. His grip started to slip. Carlyle cautiously adjusted his hold and glanced down to see Finn plastered against the wall on the second-floor balcony, watching him.

Carlyle moved closer to the window. He pulled a small folding blade from his pocket and slipped it between the window and the latch. A smile tugged at his lips when it popped open.