Raintree: Oracle

by Linda Winstead Jones

  She did not bother to try to control the cold wind as she left the house and walked toward the Drunken Stone. They couldn’t keep her out. They couldn’t mess with her memories. Someone would, by God, explain to her what was going on!

  Echo expected that her entrance would cause a commotion, but she was wrong. Every solemn face in the room was turned to the door before she opened it. They’d been waiting for her. Not a word was spoken until Nevan, the gnome, spoke from his usual seat at the corner table.

  “Told you so!”

  * * *

  There was a hush on the heels of Nevan’s statement, but it didn’t last long. Voices rose, some angry, others merely confused. Rye demanded calm. He called for everyone to settle down, but his voice was not loud enough. A few men moved closer to Echo. They were not a threat, not yet, but like it or not a threat was coming. Rye left his post behind the bar—no one was drinking tonight—and jumped onto the small stage. This time when he demanded quiet, the crowd obeyed.

  It would be a waste of time to run Echo out of the pub before continuing with the meeting. She’d see; she’d know. Every day she grew stronger. He should’ve sent her away that first day, should’ve ignored Cassidy’s prediction and his need to make sure the Raintree had not come for her, but he had not and now it was too late. He cared about her. Their instructions were not done; he could not dismiss the threat she seemed to have forgotten about; he did not trust these people, his people, not to harm her. They were protective. Of their home, their lives, the stones—of Cassidy.

  “I know what some of you think.” He locked his gaze on a confused Echo. “You think the Raintree woman has come for one of us, that she will bring more of her clan here and destroy this...this...” There was no better word. “This sanctuary. You’re wrong. Echo is not our enemy. She’s one of us, for a short time. She has come here for the peace Cloughban can offer those like us. Nothing more, nothing less. I believe that to be true. No, I know it.”

  One kiss, a shared visual or two...it wasn’t much, but he and Echo were connected in a way he had not expected. As he’d faced a crowd tonight—half of them angry, the other half merely confused—he’d come to the unwelcome realization that he would protect her at all costs.

  Almost all costs.

  “The meeting is over,” he declared. “Your worries are for nothing, I promise.”

  That was a hollow promise, as empty as the freshly washed glasses that hung behind the bar. Life was worry, and had been since his child had come into this world.

  It took several minutes, but the crowd did disperse. Most of the townsfolk walked around and well clear of Echo, who moved forward slowly until she stood stock-still in the middle of the room. She stared at him even as Nevan, the last to leave, gave her a comforting pat on the shoulder and muttered, “I tried to help you, lass. You’re on your own now.”

  When they were finally alone, she said, “I believe some explanations are in order.”

  “Can it wait until tomorrow?”

  The expression on her face was one of frustration and anger, and those emotions came through in her voice. “No, I don’t think it can.”

  He wanted more time to think, time to prepare his words carefully. “It’s a long story, and it’s getting late.”

  She wasn’t going to budge. He added determination to the list of easily read expressions on her pretty face. “Take your time. I’ve got all night.”

  He left the stage, walked silently toward her.

  “First of all, what the hell is the deal with the book I found...”

  Rye lifted one hand and the book, which had been sitting on Nevan’s table, flew into his hand. Echo gasped, and her eyes—greener than ever on this night—went wide. She knew he was a wizard, knew he had powers. But he had been very careful not to use them in front of her, until now.

  “There are secrets here you are not meant to know.”

  “Then why am I here?” Her expression softened a bit. “Very little in life can be written off to coincidence, you know it as well as I do. Do you believe it’s simple coincidence that I traveled halfway around the world to find you?”

  No. No, he did not. “That is the question of the hour, isn’t it?”

  Rye stopped when he was so close to Echo that he could smell her, feel her body heat. He’d wanted her since she’d walked into his pub. He’d dreamed of her, fantasized about having her even though he knew...

  Echo shook her head. “Let’s take this slowly, one thing at a time.” She pointed. “That’s just a history book that was, as far as I can tell, written by one of your ancestors. Why on earth would it be snatched from my hand as if it contained the secrets of the universe? Secrets I am not to be privy to apparently.”

  “It’s complicated.”

  Anger flared to life again. “No shit, Sherlock!” She took a deep, calming breath. “Give me something. Throw me a bone, tell me...tell me...tell me something.”

  Something. Maybe he could talk his way around this by sharing a small detail, or two. “My family have always been guardians, of a sort.”

  “Guardians of what?” she asked, frustrated.

  Like it or not, the time to tell her about the stone circle would come soon enough. Not tonight. If he had his way he would never tell her about Cassidy. “Cloughban. You know it’s a different kind of place. You know the people here are not ordinary. They are...like me. Like you. They’re afraid you’ll ruin what we’ve found here. Peace. A place we can be ourselves. A home for many strays.”

  “Independents.” She looked up at him, wondering, confused, wanting something more. “Nothing about my life has ever been ordinary,” she whispered.

  “Or mine,” he confessed.

  “This morning, in town...” She wrinkled her nose and closed her eyes. “I swear, there was something. Something I can’t quite put my finger on.” She opened her eyes and looked directly into his. “I do remember thinking that you would never let anything or anyone hurt me.”

  A thought much too much like his own.

  The pub was quiet; they were alone. The attraction that had always danced between them intensified. There was power here, a power he had tried very hard to ignore.

  Rye cupped Echo’s cheek in his hand. “You cannot stay here, not forever.”

  “I know that. This is not my home.”

  “No, it’s not. And I suspect some of the people here will not make the coming days easy for you.”

  Her expression was relaxed now, soft and tempting. “My life has never been easy, either.”

  Easy. Who had an easy life? Not him, not his daughter...not the woman who stood before him. Life was not meant to be easy. “You should probably leave tomorrow.”

  “I probably should.” She drifted closer to him, rested her cheek against his chest. “But easy or not, I’m not finished here. I know it to the depths of my soul.”

  He threaded his fingers through her hair, held her close.

  No, she was not finished with him, and like it or not he was not finished with her.

  Chapter 10

  The kiss was not like the first. It was deeper, more profound. It was a kiss to wipe away the rest of the world. While Duncan held her, while he pressed his lips to hers, Echo didn’t think about being a poor excuse for a prophet, stolen memories, villagers who didn’t want her here, magic.

  This was real. She wanted Duncan and he wanted her. His arms encircled her and held her close, so close she could feel the evidence of his arousal pressing against her. If the kiss didn’t tell her well enough that he wanted her, that did.

  She wanted him here...now. On the bar, on a table, on the floor...

  “No,” he whispered as he pulled his mouth from hers.

  No? No? Not the word she wanted to hear.

  “Not here,” he whispered.


  Not here was not the same as a flat out no. Not here she could accept. “You’ve been peeking into my head again,” she said without anger.

  “Sometimes I can’t help but see.” He kissed her again, quickly. Urgently. “Please tell me you’re...”

  She didn’t give him time to finish. “On the pill. Yes.” Not that she’d had any need for birth control in a very long time. Two things kept her taking the pill. One, she was optimistic. She wanted a man in her life, and if the right one fell into her lap—so to speak—she wanted to be prepared. Two, she didn’t want children. Not ever. Any child of hers would be Raintree. Any child she brought into this world would have some kind of ability. Maybe it would be something lovely and manageable, a true gift. Then again, maybe a child of hers would be tortured, as she had been.

  Duncan swept her off her feet. It wasn’t the first time he’d carried her. It wasn’t even the second time. This was, however, by far the most pleasant. She draped her arms around his neck as he carried her to the back of the room and up the stairs. Quickly. With purpose.

  “I think I wanted you the first time I walked into your pub,” she said. “I didn’t want to want you. You were so annoying.” She did something she’d wanted to do since that first day. She ran her fingers through his hair. “You were annoying and prickly,” she said without heat.

  “While you have always been a ray of sunshine,” he countered with humor.

  It was a valid argument, but at this moment she really didn’t want to discuss her persistent distress.

  “Why did we wait so long?” she asked. So many wasted days, so many lonely nights, when she could’ve been, should’ve been, here.

  He carried her into his dark bedroom. Moonlight streamed through the window, lighting it just enough.

  When Duncan put Echo on her feet he did so gently, as if he was afraid she might break. She was no sooner standing on her own than he began to undress her. Shirt over her head, bra unsnapped and discarded with a flick of his hand. That done, he stopped to lavish attention on her breasts, touching, kissing, sucking, until her knees went weak.

  She loved the way he touched her, the way he made her feel a part of something more. Something better than she’d realized was possible.

  Enough, she thought. I will come before either of us is completely undressed.

  And this is bad because...

  “Get out of my head,” she said without anger. “I want tonight to be...” What she’d always wanted, what she’d craved all her life. “Ordinary. Normal. Just your body and mine.”

  He didn’t whisper in her ear or in her mind. Instead, he finished the job of undressing her, placed her in the center of his bed and very quickly removed his own clothing.

  He looked fine clothed, but naked he was magnificent. Hard, muscled, just a little bit hairy. He did not remove the stone at his neck or the leather band on his wrist, but she supposed that was hardly necessary.

  As he came toward her, moonlight lit his chest and she saw the jagged, ugly scar there, much too close to his heart. It hurt her to know that he had been hurt; she was saddened to know that he’d suffered such pain. She’d have to ask him about that scar later. At the moment she had more important things on her mind, and she did not want to be distracted by pains of the past.

  Bodies entangled as if they had been made for each other, he kissed her again. And again. He kissed her mouth, her throat, her breasts. Echo spread her thighs to cradle him there. Almost touching. Almost. She ached to have him inside her; she didn’t want to wait another second. If he made her wait she was going to scream.

  Then he was there, guiding himself into her, moving gently. Too gently. She’d waited for this for a long time. Forever. This was no time for trepidation, no time for second thoughts. She placed her mouth close to his ear, kissed the warm skin just beneath and then whispered, “More. Now.”

  He groaned and did as she asked, pushing deep, thrusting hard and fast until she shattered. She might be embarrassed about coming so fast if he hadn’t been right behind her.

  Next time would be slower. Next time they would savor their coming together. And yes, she knew without doubt that there would be a next time.

  Now and then he called her love. She wanted to believe there was a kind of love between them. Temporary, unexpected, just two unattached people who understood each other finding and enjoying each other for a while. Could she call that love? Why not?

  “That was amazing,” she said. Not at all what she’d had in mind when she’d stormed across the street to confront him, but definitely amazing. She had forgotten everything while they’d made love. All her worries, all her questions...gone. Temporarily. Unpleasant thoughts had already begun to creep back into her head.

  Duncan was rumored to be very powerful. He certainly had more abilities than she knew about. Was this a simple distraction? No, not simple, not simple at all, but still a distraction.

  “Did you do something to me?”

  “I believe I did,” he said, his voice light. “If you’ve already forgotten, then I didn’t do it very well.”

  “No, Duncan. I’m serious. Was there anything...unnatural...?”

  He kissed her to silence her question, then pulled away slightly and said, “No magic was involved, at least not on my end of things. And if you’re going to share my bed, perhaps you should call me Rye.”

  “Can’t,” she said with a sigh.

  “Why not?”

  “Rye is a bread. Come to think of it, Duncan is a doughnut. I really can’t handle all those carbs.” She pressed her body to his. Already she wanted him again. It was going to be a long night. “Can I call you Ryder?” It was the name she’d known him as before they’d met, a name no one else called him. At least, not that she’d ever heard.

  “You can call me anything you’d like, love.”

  Love, again. She knew this wasn’t the kind of love she was looking for. A forever, ordinary, romantic kind of love. But for tonight, it would do. It would more than do.

  * * *

  The Raintree woman should’ve left the pub long ago, should’ve returned to her room at the boardinghouse. Alone. Instead, she remained in the pub. More likely above stairs with Rye.

  It was so unfair. Why had he never looked at her that way? What did Echo have that she did not? She wasn’t prettier, certainly wasn’t sexier.

  More powerful? Yes. For now.

  Invulnerable?

  No.

  She hated her instructions to wait. Hated them! If she made Echo’s death look like an accident, her body would be shipped home and no Raintree would ever come to Cloughban again. By the time they got suspicious and thought to do so it would be too late. Far too late.

  Her last two calls to her employer—not the town council who paid her to keep up their pathetic library but the man who’d hired her to be a part of the first wave of his long-planned invasion—had gone unanswered. He should’ve at the very least seen that she’d called and call her back. Maybe he was on his way. Maybe he was already here, somewhere.

  She knew he was close, and had been for a while. A couple of hours away, at most, and perhaps not even that far. Waiting had been difficult for him, but he’d insisted that everything be just right, including the time of year, the phase of the moon and—most important—the age of the girl. At the moment, she was prime.

  Had he seen that a Raintree would arrive just as his plan was coming together? Again, maybe. He wasn’t as powerful as he thought himself to be, but he planned to be much stronger very soon. She wasn’t sure he’d get that chance. If she had her way he would not, but for now... for now she would continue to play the obedient soldier.

  Maisy imagined herself comforting Rye when Echo was dead. She imagined herself taking her place in his bed, making him do whatever she commanded.

  Most of all, she
imagined herself queen.

  * * *

  Echo slept sprawled across his bed. Naked, beautiful, sated...his, for now.

  It was not long after dawn, hours before the pub would open, when Rye pulled on a pair of jeans and headed downstairs to make a pot of coffee. Sleeping with Echo had not been the smartest move he’d ever made, but he didn’t regret it. It had been a long time, a very long time...

  “Hello.”

  He jumped at the sound of Cassidy’s voice, spun to face her. She stood near the bar, still dressed in her nightgown. The one her grandmother had made for her. It was old-fashioned and worn, and Cassidy swore it was the most comfortable nightgown ever. She would soon outgrow it. The hem hung well above her ankles. Last year it had almost touched the floor.

  “Honey, I told you to stay out of sight while the Raintree woman is here.”

  “Echo.” Cassidy smiled. “Her name is Echo, not ‘the Raintree woman.’ I like her. Is she going to be my new mother?”

  “No.” Echo could not stay here. It would be too dangerous—for him, for Cassidy, for every resident of Cloughban.

  “Then why is she upstairs in your room?” Long red hair still tangled from sleep, Cassidy looked up as if she could see through the ceiling.

  “She’s a friend, that’s all. A friend who isn’t going to stay in Cloughban much longer.”

  “Oh. I like her, and I thought she might stay for a long time. But now I hope she leaves soon.”

  “Why?” Had Cassidy seen something? Had she sensed a danger?

  Cassidy shrugged her shoulders. “I’m tired of staying home all the time. It’s boring.”

  Rye relaxed. “Your grandmother takes good care of you.”

  “She does, but I miss my friends. I miss you, Da.” She stuck out her tongue, then said, “I used to see you almost every day, for breakfast or for tea, or right after school. Now you’re here all the time. You don’t want Echo to know you even have a daughter.”

  “It’s for your own good.” He sounded like a father with those words.

  “That’s silly.” Cassidy’s face shifted, was suddenly older—much older—than her eleven years. She looked wiser, and far too powerful. She’d seen something, felt something, that made her thoughts shift. “It’s okay to be the good guy, Da. You don’t have to be alone. You don’t have to be who you once were.”