by Jones, AE
Jamie actually smiled at him, which helped relieve the pressure in his chest. “Sure. We wouldn’t want you to fall down in front of the guys.”
“It’s not the guys I’m worried about.”
McHenry glanced the faerie’s way, and her mouth tipped up into a smirk. Had she heard what he said? Did faeries have ears like werewolves?
He turned away from her, and Jamie stayed close by in case his legs decided to give out on him. The longer he was on his feet, the worse he felt.
As he reached the front porch, steps sounded behind him. Light steps that could only mean one thing. The faerie was following him.
“Before you sit down again out here, why don’t you let me check to see how your back is doing?”
McHenry barely managed not to growl. Or rather his lack of energy stopped him from growling. There was no point in fighting her. She was stubborn and wily.
Jamie walked with him inside, and they headed up the stairs. By the time they got to the end of the upstairs hallway in front of his room, he was done. He sat on the bed with a groan.
Jamie frowned at the sound. McHenry patted him on the shoulder. “I’m fine, son.”
“Why don’t you give us a few minutes, Jamie? I’m going to examine your uncle.”
Jamie nodded before heading out of the room and shutting the door.
“How are you feeling?”
“Fine.”
She sighed. “You had your nephew help you inside. You’re not fine.”
“It’s rude to eavesdrop on private conversations.”
“Says the demon who spied on us through the mirror.”
McHenry couldn’t help himself. He laughed at her cheeky response. Although it sounded rough, even to his own ears.
Her eyes widened before she grinned. “I never thought I would hear the great and powerful McHenry laugh.”
“You surprise me, lass. That doesn’t happen often.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment. Now strip.”
His eyebrows popped up before he could stop himself.
She shook her head. “Just your shirt. I want to look at your back.”
He lifted his arms to unbutton his shirt and flinched at the twinge along his shoulders.
“Here, let me help you.” She leaned over and unbuttoned the shirt, pulling it gently off his shoulders.
She smelled like a meadow of wildflowers—what the hell was he doing smelling her?
She finished pulling off his shirt and circled the bed. “Your back is looking pretty good, but you’re obviously still in pain.”
She came around the bed and stood in front of him. “Lie down for a moment.”
He settled on his stomach, arms wrapped around the pillow. “Now what?”
“Nothing else. You’re exhausted. You need to rest.”
“And you’re diabolical. You brought me up here on purpose.”
She held up her hands. “Busted. And if that’s your idea of diabolical, I think you’ve been cooped up in the Burrow too long.”
She didn’t know the half of it. But then he wouldn’t be sharing that with her. “I don’t need you babyin’ me.”
She crossed her arms in front of her. “What if you think about it this way? You need to get your energy back so you can have your manly showdown with whoever did this to you.”
“Manly showdown?”
“Yes. You know. Pounding your chest. Marking your territory. And let’s not forget pulling out the measuring sticks.”
“Sexist.”
“I guess that was a bit sexist.”
“A bit?”
“Don’t try to distract me with another argument. Rest for a while. I’ll even tell the guys downstairs that you’re ready to bench-press one of your anvils, but I decided you need some more time and slipped you a sleeping spell. Does that work for your ego?”
“You really need to go to sensitivity trainin’, faerie.”
A laugh burst from her and now it was his turn to look at her in surprise.
“I’ll save a seat for you at the front of the class, demon.”
His eyes drooped. When he forced them back open again, he watched her eyebrow pop up in an I-told-you-so expression. She was a cocky one.
“I’m goin’ to rest my eyes for a bit. I’ll be down to bench-press two anvils in a few minutes.”
She saluted him. “Got it.”
The door shut just as his eyes closed.
* * *
Darcinda took a deep breath as she headed down the hall. What an exasperating male! How could he be so ornery with her one minute and so supportive of his nephew the next? And she had to admit, it was good to hear him laugh for the first time. It was nice to see humor in his expression as opposed to the perpetual scowl she was used to seeing.
He was complicated. But then she was an expert at complicated, or her family was. Maybe she was surprised at how supportive McHenry was with his nephews because she hadn’t really experienced the same in her own past.
She shook her head as she jogged down the stairs. No time for self-pity. She needed to figure out how to reverse the memory spell on McHenry and Andrew. It might make more sense to work with Andrew first, since he was stronger than McHenry right now. Not that she would be telling the stubborn demon that anytime soon.
Darcinda walked toward the back of the house and narrowly missed colliding with Jamie, who held up his hands. “Whoa.”
“Sorry. I was lost in thought.”
“How is he?” Jamie asked as Andrew joined them.
“I convinced him to lie down.”
Andrew crossed his arms. “That must have been a struggle.”
Darcinda smiled. “A bit. I’m supposed to tell you he’ll be downstairs to bench-press anvils in a few hours.”
Andrew chuckled. “That sounds like him.” His expression turned serious. “Thank you for helping him.”
“You already thanked me.”
“I know, but it bears repeating, since he can be stubborn.”
“I see you’re the master of understatement like your uncle.”
Andrew shrugged. “Not surprised. He raised us, so I’m sure we take after him in some ways.”
The three of them entered the kitchen, and Darcinda snagged the teakettle to fill it with water and heat it on the stove. “When did you come to live with your uncle?”
“Almost thirteen years ago?” Andrew looked at Jamie, who nodded before Andrew continued. “I was twelve when we moved here, and Jamie was nine. Mom couldn’t handle us. Or me, really. Uncle Mac will tell you I was a hellion.” Andrew’s voice took on McHenry’s slight accent. “Looking back at it now, if I was him, I would have kicked my butt up to my shoulders.”
“And he didn’t?”
Jamie smiled. “I think he might have come close a couple times, but he never laid a hand on us. Back then Andrew was mad all the time and I was sad. Kept trying to run away, but I never got far.”
“Can I ask where your mom is now?”
“She lived here for a while when we first moved to the Burrow, but when we got older, she moved back to Scotland to be with our grandmother, who needed her help.”
“And your father?”
Andrew scowled, and Darcinda could see a resemblance to his uncle. “Our father abandoned us when we were small.”
Jamie spoke softly. “Which was fine with us. McHenry is a better father than he could ever be.”
Andrew clapped his brother on the back. “Yes, he is.”
Another facet to McHenry. He was definitely a study in contradictions. She wondered what he was like without all the blustering. But she wouldn’t be here long enough to figure him out. She wasn’t sure anyone could.
Let’s chalk that up to healer’s prerogative.
Chapter 7
McHenry was finally feeling better. Over the past day, exhaustion had been replaced by determination. A determination to figure out who attacked them. If only he could remember what really happened. But every time he tried to pus
h past his fuzzy memories of the explosion, pain throbbed behind his eyes.
At least now that they knew they were dealing with an attack and not an accident, Devin and his team were in full investigation mode. At the moment, McHenry sat in a living room chair with his nephews and Tim on the couch next to him. The rest of the team brought in chairs from the kitchen.
He had suggested they simply sit around the large table, but Devin had countered with the living room after a pointed stare from Darcinda. Did the faerie think he was too weak to sit on a wooden kitchen chair? But once he settled into the soft chair, he was grateful for the cushioning. Which meant he was also grateful for her thoughtfulness…and for some reason that annoyed him. He wasn’t sure why she brought out such strong emotions in him. It had to be because she was faerie.
Devin got the questions started. “Let’s talk about your business. Now you’ve had some time to think about it, is there anyone dissatisfied with your work?”
“You will never have one hundred percent satisfaction in business. There have been disagreements in the past, but nothin’ that would cause this sort of response.”
“Anything you can think of might help,” Charlie said.
Andrew leaned forward. “Monroe balked about the cost of the fence posts we made him.”
McHenry huffed. “That’s because he’s cheap. He always complains, and then when I don’t back down, he pays. Besides, we made those for him six months ago. I don’t see him suddenly decidin’ to attack us.”
“True,” Jamie chimed in. “Most people don’t argue with us because they’re afraid of Uncle Mac.”
A soft chuckle had him looking up. Darcinda stood in the doorway. When had she snuck in here?
“We offer quality products, and they have nothin’ to complain about,” McHenry countered.
His nephews grinned at him.
“We would still like to see who you do business with,” Tim said.
McHenry nodded. “Andrew, can you fetch the books from my office?”
Andrew’s eyes widened. “All of them?”
“No, just the past three years.”
His nephew left the room and came back with three large leather volumes that he plopped on Tim’s lap.
Tim opened the first book and flipped the pages, grinning from ear to ear.
“Why are you smilin’ like that?” McHenry asked.
“I haven’t worked with paper and pencil since I was a kid.”
McHenry shook his head. “I know you like your computers, warlock, but you also know that magic blocks technology, so it doesn’t work in the Burrow.”
Tim shrugged. “I cast a spell on that cell phone to work for you in case of emergencies. I bet I could get a computer to work too.”
McHenry didn’t doubt he could. “All the information you want to know about our customers are in those ledgers—names, dates, orders, payments made.”
Andrew pointed to something on the open book Tim had on his lap. “Mac takes notes about the orders too. You’ll find them interesting.”
Tim glanced at the page and then smiled before reading aloud. “‘Collins changed the quantity of his order three times and then questioned why we extended his delivery date. Stupid arse.’”
Andrew and Jamie chuckled. Collins wasn’t the only arse. His nephews were smart-arses, the both of them.
Tim shut the book. “I’ll start reviewing them to see if I can find anyone we should interview.”
“Let’s talk about the Burrow,” Devin said. “Is there anyone you aren’t getting along with?”
McHenry thought for a moment before shaking his head. “No.”
“What about any close neighbors?” Connor asked.
“The closest neighbor we have is through the forest almost a mile away.”
“You haven’t irritated anyone?” Charlie asked with a little too much skepticism in his tone to suit McHenry.
“Mac would actually have to go into the Burrow village to irritate people,” Jamie said.
Well, well, well, his nephew was on a roll today.
Devin turned to McHenry’s nephews. “What about you two? Any run-ins with anyone lately?”
Jamie shook his head and Andrew followed suit a moment later. Had his nephew just hesitated? He would have to ask Andrew what that was about.
“So that takes us back to the supremacists,” Jack said.
The previous levity disappeared and Jamie’s face lost color. “This is my fault.”
“Jamie. No,” McHenry said. “This was never your fault. Those bastards hurt you.”
Jack held up his hand. “I didn’t mean to upset you, Jamie. I’m just looking at all the possibilities right now. We think we captured all the supremacists and they stood trial for their crimes. But I don’t want to discount them completely.”
Jamie’s mouth tightened into a grim line before he nodded once.
The team asked some more questions, which led to no real answers. Frustration prickled under McHenry’s skin.
Devin stood and went into what McHenry assumed was his team leader stance. “Okay, here’s the initial plan. Connor and Jack, I think you should head into the Burrow village and start questioning people. See if anyone acts suspicious or guilty. Charlie and Tim, start reviewing the ledgers to see if anything stands out. I’ll join you after I use Tim’s magical cell phone to call Lokar.” Devin turned to McHenry. “Lokar is the head of the Tribunal. He’ll want a report of what happened here. Any questions?” Devin said to the group.
By the time McHenry pulled himself out of the chair, both of his nephews had already escaped. He needed to talk with both of them. Who to talk to first?
His conversation with Andrew could wait, especially if it took a while to get his nephew to tell him if he’d lied to Devin. He wanted to check on Jamie first and tell him once again that he was not at fault. Maybe this time it would sink in.
Decision made, he walked toward the back of the house where he’d seen Jamie go. He stopped in the hallway when he heard Jamie speaking to someone in the kitchen.
“I don’t care what they say. This could all be my fault.”
“Jamie.” So it was Darcinda with him.
“I know, everyone keeps telling me it’s not my fault. But you don’t know for sure.”
“Fine. It’s your fault.”
Heat surged under his skin. What the hells was she doing?
“What…” Jamie whispered.
The uncertainty in his nephew’s voice felt like a weight on his chest.
“You just said it’s your fault, and I’m agreeing with you. So tell me what you did. Are you still in contact with the supremacists?”
“No.”
“So you didn’t ask them to attack your uncle and brother?”
“No!”
“Did you attack your uncle and brother?”
“Of course not!” Jamie proclaimed.
“Then how is this your fault, Jamie? Even if there are supremacists still out there, I don’t know that they would be here attacking your uncle and brother, who did nothing to them.”
Oh the faerie was clever, he’d give her that.
Jamie cleared his throat. “What if they were after me and they hurt Uncle Mac by accident?”
Damnation. McHenry clenched his fists and stepped toward the kitchen. Before he could burst into the room and shake some sense into his nephew, Darcinda spoke again.
“That doesn’t make any sense. Whoever attacked your uncle used high-level magic. And there was no mistaking who the targets were. You were not the target.”
McHenry heard Jamie’s hard sigh of relief all the way into the hall and it tore at his insides.
Hells, he wanted to punish those damn supremacists all over again for what they’d done to his nephew.
“So that means we need your help to figure out who actually did do this. Why don’t you help Tim and Charlie with going through the ledgers? Answer questions for them, since you deal with the customers.”
“I
could do that.”
“Great. Before you go, can you help me make some more of that wonderful tea we had yesterday?”
McHenry backed away from the door. He would leave them alone for a while to talk some more. He needed to get his own emotions in check. And he owed Darcinda for resolving something that he hadn’t been able to resolve with Jamie. Now on to his other nephew.
He found Devin on the porch. “Have you seen Andrew?”
“He went into the workshop.”
McHenry nodded before heading across the courtyard. He found Andrew at his workbench in the corner.
“What are you doin’?”
“Cleaning up,” Andrew answered without looking up.
McHenry stopped himself from growling. “I need to know, Andrew. Were you honest just now?”
Andrew tensed but didn’t turn to face him. “What do you mean?”
“You seemed to hesitate when Devin asked if you had any issues with anyone.”
Andrew sighed.
McHenry stepped closer. “What is it, son?”
“It’s nothing.”
McHenry rested his hands on Andrew’s shoulders and turned him around.
“It’s obviously somethin’.”
“It’s not anybody to worry about.” Andrew looked down at the floor. “I was seeing someone, but she broke up with me recently.”
“Why didn’t you mention her before?”
He shrugged. “I was going to tell you, but then she said she didn’t want to be with me anymore.”
McHenry wanted to pull him into his arms, but he knew it wouldn’t go over well at the moment. “Well there must be somethin’ wrong with the lass to cast you aside.”
Andrew’s mouth quirked up a bit. “You think so?”
“I know so. You’ll find someone special, Andrew, and when it’s right, you’ll know it.”
Andrew lost his slight smile. “I thought she was the one.”
“I’m sorry.” And he was. But he wouldn’t spout any more platitudes at him. The lad was hurting, and he needed time. “I wish you hadn’t felt the need to keep this to yourself.”