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 Over the past day, exhaustion had been replaced by determination.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 push 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.”

Andrew frowned. “I was going to tell you about it, but then you were hurt.”

Something wriggled around in McHenry’s head. A wisp of a memory. He concentrated for a moment, but nothing came to the surface.

“Don’t worry about cleanin’, Andrew. We’ll start working again tomorrow.”

Andrew opened his mouth as if to argue, but McHenry lightly wrapped his hand around the back of his nephew’s neck and looked down at him. “Go on, son. Spend some time with Jamie. I think he’s with Tim and Charlie, lookin’ through the books.”

McHenry watched him leave. Then he stared at the wall, the jagged shards of metal sticking out at different angles. He shuddered. Thank the Fates Andrew hadn’t been hurt.

Darcinda stepped into the doorway and gave him a long look. She had this way of getting too close even when she was across the room. “Are you okay?”

“Aye.” He cleared his throat. “When we were in here before, I really didn’t get a chance to look at the damage.”

“You were too busy second-guessing what I was doing.”

She was a cheeky one. “You were castin’ spells in my workshop.”

“I was. And I can understand you being upset, since this is your space and your magic. I probably should have asked permission first.”

Interesting. He hadn’t been expecting that response. “Why didn’t you?”

She rested a hand on her hip. “Because you would have said no, of course.”

“And you did it anyway.”

“Yes. I will do anything for my patients. It’s my healer’s prerogative.”

“Well, that’s a load of bull if I’ve ever heard it.”

Her eyes tightened on him, and her other hand landed on the opposite hip.

He held up his hands. “Now before you singe my arse, let me clarify. I know you’re a good healer. I’m not callin’ you on that. But you castin’ the spell in my workshop was because you can’t stay out of people’s business.”

“I knew something wasn’t right about your and Andrew’s memories of what happened. So I was helping you and the team, and we figured out that you’d been attacked, that it wasn’t your fault, or Andrew’s. If I hadn’t cast the spell, you and Andrew would still be blaming yourselves for what you thought happened, you stubborn mule.”

He couldn’t keep the grin off his face. “I’ve been called worse.”

Her eyes sparkled. “I bet you have.”

“And you’re right. You got us closer to the truth. So thanks. And I also need to thank you for somethin’ else.”

She tilted her head slightly. “What?”

“I overheard you and Jamie earlier in the kitchen. What I’ve been saying hasn’t been getting through to him. When you first agreed with him about being at fault, I almost charged into the room.”

A grin quirked her mouth. “I just bet you did.”

“But then you made him think through things. Maybe he’ll stop blamin’ himself.”

She shrugged. “I don’t know. It seems to be a trait shared by the males in your family.”

Cheeky, cheeky lass. “True.”

And there she was, staring up at him with those eyes. Hells. He looked away from her at the jagged metal pieces.

“Does seeing the damage bring back any memories?” she asked.

“It’s bringin’ back memories, all right, but not ones I care to relive.”

“I don’t blame you. Your pain is not something I like to remember either.”

He looked down at her again. She was a puzzle. And her words warmed him. She was a damn fine healer who could and would empathize with her patients’ pain. He would do best to remember that.

“Why don’t you turn around and let me see your back.”

“It’s fine. The scars are fading.”

Her eyebrows rose and he turned around, unbuttoning his flannel shirt and pulling it from his jeans.

He jerked slightly when she touched him, pushing the loose fabric up. He could feel her breath on his back and he froze.

“Does something hurt?” she asked.

“No.”

“It’s looking much better.” She lowered his shirt.

He turned to face her and rebuttoned it. “Thanks.”

She paused before responding. “Hopefully I can figure out how to bring your memories back so we can catch whoever did this.”

“You keep exercisin’ your healer’s prerogative, don’t you?”

“Yep. You better get used to it.”

She smiled up at him and her look punched him in the gut. What was it about her? Hells. He couldn’t afford to fall under her spell.

He had to remember she was a faerie, and that meant trouble.