Raintree: Oracle

by Linda Winstead Jones

  Echo was freezing, and it was her own fault. She had brought on the cold, the snow. Snow and frozen rain fell in fits and starts. She hugged herself in an attempt to keep warm. Now she knew what emotion could bring on snow.

  Heartbreak. Desolation. The complete loss of hope.

  Cassidy popped into her path, not five feet ahead. Echo stumbled to a halt, her heart almost bursting out of her chest.

  “Where are you going?” Cassidy asked harshly.

  “Home, I guess.”

  “No!”

  She wanted to hug the little girl, to offer some kind of comfort, but Cassidy wasn’t really here. Not in body, anyway. Echo understood that much now. “Your father will save you.”

  “I know he will.” Cassidy rolled her eyes in that maddening way young girls do. “But who’s going to save him? That’s your job. I can’t do everything myself!”

  For a moment, the snow stopped. The cold remained, but it was not so sharp and cutting. “Why didn’t you come to us this way earlier? Why didn’t you show yourself to your father? If you’d told us where you were...”

  “I couldn’t,” Cassidy said, clearly exasperated. “Maisy had a spell on the room. I couldn’t do anything.”

  “Where are you now?”

  “Almost to the stones. Da’s coming, I can feel him, but...I need you, too. I need you to save him, if you can, if you...”

  And then Cassidy was gone, without warning. Without even finishing her sentence. That couldn’t be good.

  Echo had never been to the stone circle before, didn’t even know what direction to take to get there. Ryder had headed east when he’d left the cottage, but that was not nearly specific enough. There were miles and miles of wide-open fields, and many gentle hills that hid what lay ahead.

  Echo closed her eyes. She reached for the source of power, for Cassidy...for Ryder. When she opened her eyes she was surprised to see a trail of flickering lights low to the ground. Twinkling, dancing, yellow and blue and pink and lavender, they lit the way.

  For a moment, Echo held her breath. Fairies? Oh, hell, no. Must be Cassidy’s doing.

  It didn’t matter who—or what—lit the way. She had to find her way to the stones. To Ryder. Echo began to run. The flickering lights in her path broke apart as she ran through them, then flew ahead to keep the line going. As far as she could see, those twinkling lights lit her way.

  Maybe Ryder didn’t want her. Maybe he would never again be the man she’d fallen in love with.

  But she was meant to be there, to help. To save him, if she could. If he would allow it.

  Was she wasting her time trying to find him? There had been no love in Ryder when he’d left the cottage to save his daughter. No love, no hope at all. All she’d sensed from him was disdain for her and a dark determination. Still, she had to try. Cassidy needed all the help she could get. Echo ran, and once again snow began to fall.

  * * *

  The sight was just as Echo had described it. The stone circle, the snow, Maisy and Cassidy.

  Maisy wore a dark ceremonial robe with a deep hood. She held a knife in her right hand. Cassidy was close to her, much too close. The knife was raised in the air, ready to swing.

  He was not close enough, not yet.

  Rye shouted; he roared as he stripped the leather cuff from his wrist. That was enough to wash him in a touch of forgotten power. It felt good, better than anything he could remember. He yanked the stone from his throat and tossed it aside, and the remainder of his long-locked-away powers returned. They rushed through him fast and sure. He’d been asleep for years, and now he was awake. He’d been sleepwalking; he’d been weak. He was weak no more.

  Rye saw nothing but Maisy as he ran, moving faster than he should be able to. Seeing everything around and before him sharper, clearer, as if until now his life had been out of focus. She heard him, turned, smiled widely.

  In the blink of an eye, he took on some of the powers of a panther. More speed, more lithe strength. His teeth became fangs, his hands claws. Maisy, who had been momentarily entranced, lost her smile. Perhaps she knew that he intended to rip her to pieces.

  She turned and the knife she held swung down and into Cassidy.

  No!

  The knife swung not into Cassidy but through her. His daughter was playing out of body again. Good girl.

  Maisy had no more time. Rye slammed into the evil woman at full force; he grabbed her arms and pushed her out of the circle and away from his daughter before knocking her to the ground. She landed on her back, hard, losing her breath for a moment. Once she’d recovered she looked up at him, wide-eyed and looking like a bleedin’ librarian, not an evil witch.

  How dare she threaten his daughter!

  Prone, vulnerable, she dared to speak. “We could be good together, Rye. You and me, and Cassidy. We can be a family like no other. Look at you,” she whispered. “Half animal, half man, all dark power and so, so beautiful.”

  He barely listened. The woman on the ground was nothing. She was no one. Without warning she swung the knife she continued to hold in one pale hand, aiming for his ankle, trying to bring him down.

  She wasn’t fast enough. Not nearly fast enough. With one swipe at her throat with a hand that still possessed the claws of the animal she’d admired, Maisy was dead. The knife she’d managed to hold on to all that time dropped to the ground. The silver soaked up the power of the nearby stones; the blade shimmered, it danced and then it went dark. Dead. As dead as the woman.

  Rye resumed his complete human form with a minimum of effort. No more fangs, no more claws. The power he had reclaimed remained, rushing through his blood. For the first time in years, he felt alive.

  The snow stopped, but flakes had gathered on Maisy’s face and on her dark robe. Dead she looked...surprised.

  He’d wanted her to suffer for what she’d done, but her death had come too quick, too easy. Not satisfied simply to kill the woman who had dared to threaten his daughter, Rye waved his fingers and sent a stream of white-hot flame at her body. Fire lit the night, illuminated the landscape before and around him. It took only seconds for the traitor to burn to ash.

  With a twist of his hand he lifted the ash from the ground, creating a small whirlwind. He sent the dancing ash high, propelled it into the night sky until there was literally nothing left of Maisy.

  Rye turned back to the circle. An alarmed Cassidy—not really Cassidy—disappeared.

  Where was she? Close? Far? He knew she could manifest from a goodly distance, but she couldn’t have gone too far. Maisy wouldn’t have had her eyes off the prize for more than a few seconds. He returned to the center of the stone circle and turned about. Twice. His eyes scanned the shadows, the darkness. In an angry panic, he called her name. Nothing. No Cassidy.

  He’d scared her; he’d revealed a part of himself that had been hidden for all her life. Taking a deep breath, reaching for calm, he commanded his daughter to show herself. Warily, she stepped out from behind the tallest stone.

  “Da?” she asked, her voice trembling.

  His daughter was so powerful, so amazingly special. Why had he kept her hidden away in this place? Together they could have anything, do anything. Money, power...what else was there worth having?

  Love.

  That thought was not his own.

  He turned to watch Echo approach. He’d let his guard down and she’d slipped into his head. Again. Raintree bitch. She made him weak. She wanted him to be the shell of a man he’d been for so many years. He’d never again limit himself that way. Why had he ever allowed himself to be so weak?

  “I thought I told you to go,” he growled.

  “You did. I started to obey, I really did try. To be honest I’ve never been very good at obeying. I had to make sure Cassidy was all right.”

  With a powe
r he’d all but forgotten racing through his blood, Rye realized that Echo was a threat. She was, perhaps, the only person who stood between him and everything the darkness wanted.

  “She’s fine, as you can see. Go.”

  “No.”

  “I’ll rip out your throat,” he said in a calm voice. “I’ve done that once tonight and now I have a taste for it. Will you die as quickly and easily as Maisy did?”

  She should be terrified, but she was not. Echo looked past him; she looked to Cassidy. “Your granny is coming to get you.”

  “She’s close. I see her,” Cassidy said too softly.

  “Run to meet her. I’ll take care of your da.”

  Rye watched his daughter run away. She was scared of him, but that wouldn’t last. When she realized what they could do together, what they could have...

  Echo walked into the circle. She was powerful, too, but what she possessed was nothing next to him and his daughter. He could not allow her to get in his way.

  “If you know what’s good for you, you’ll turn around,” he warned.

  “I’ve never been very good at knowing what’s good for me, either.” She smiled. Smiled!

  “You asked me once, more than once, to take away your powers. I can do that, here and now.” That act would wipe away who she was, perhaps even her memory of him and her idea that she should be here. It would remove any hint they were connected. The way the power was washing through him, he’d likely kill her in the process, or at the very least leave her brain-dead.

  She walked up to him, placed a hand against his chest as she so often had. Her palm rested against the scar too near his heart.

  Rye reminded himself that the last woman he’d loved had tried to kill him. Had almost succeeded. This one was as much of a threat as Sybil had been. Perhaps more of a threat.

  “I can do it,” he said. “I can take it all away.”

  She responded, still far too calm, “Whatever you think is best, love.”

  He placed the palm of his right hand against her temple.

  * * *

  His eyes were wrong, and she still couldn’t see into his mind the way she once had. She felt his emotions, though, and they were strong. Hate, fear, ambition, lust and somewhere, buried deep, love. He’d done his best to deny that love earlier, but she saw it now. She felt it.

  “I love you,” Echo whispered.

  “You’re a fool.”

  “Am I? I don’t think so, not anymore. I think maybe love is the only thing worth living for.” And dying for, she supposed. Not that she wanted to die.

  The hand that had been pressed to her temple dropped away.

  “I’ll show you what you think is love, Raintree.” Ryder was rough as he pulled her shirt over her head. She lifted her arms to assist him. “Sex, that’s all it is. You could be replaced by any woman, and I could be replaced by any man. Did you really think there was more to it than that?”

  “Yes.” She knew there was more. “I love you.”

  “You fooled yourself into thinking you love the man I used to be.”

  “The man you still are.”

  He unfastened her jeans and pushed them down. She kicked off her shoes and stepped out of them.

  She stood naked in the center of the stone circle that gave Cloughban—White Stone—its name. By day the stones themselves would be an ordinary gray, but by the light of the full moon they were gleaming white. She felt the energy in the stones, in the ground, in the air. It was good energy, white magic. The only darkness here was within Ryder.

  “I love you,” she said again.

  “Stop saying that!”

  “Why? They’re just words, unless you give them meaning with your heart as I have.” She leaned into Ryder, went up on her toes and kissed him gently.

  He stiffened, but he did not move away.

  The stone circle sat upon an unimpressive plot of land with a pond to the north and a field to the west. It was far from any cottage, and on this night it was far from prying eyes. Anyone touched with magic would sense the danger here. They would sense the danger Ryder had become and stay away. She was the only one around who didn’t have the sense to flee.

  Most people didn’t realize that Stonehenge wasn’t the only stone circle in the world. Not by a long shot. It was just the most well-known. The Cloughban stones were smaller, but the circle here was just as ancient and every bit as powerful.

  The clouds that had brought the snow drifted away, broke up to reveal the dark sky above filled only with countless stars and a bright full moon.

  Lightning danced on Ryder’s fingertips, fire flickered along his arms and in a circle around their feet. The heart of a panther beat within his chest. He could rip her apart as he had Maisy, but he wouldn’t. She believed that with all her heart.

  “You might not admit yet that you love me, but you do want me.”

  He didn’t deny it.

  “I knew you were trouble from the moment I saw you.” Echo kept her voice low, even though there was no one around to hear. “I walked into the pub, took one look at you and almost gave up then and there.”

  “You should have.”

  “I’m glad I didn’t.” She slipped her hand beneath his shirt, pushed it high, helped him remove it. Then she moved her hands to his jeans. He didn’t fight her efforts. In fact, he helped.

  Soon Ryder was as naked as she was. He laid her on the ground, roughly, but not as roughly as she’d thought he might.

  “I love you,” she whispered.

  “You’re a damned broken record,” he growled. “This is not love.” With that he was inside her, pushing, claiming. He moved fast and hard, without a hint of gentleness. She welcomed him, cradled him, offered softness and love where he believed there was none.

  The breeze that washed over her was warm and smelled of the ocean. Impossible. That was the scent of home...and a very real indication that this was now home. Ireland, Cloughban...Ryder.

  “Deny it all you want, love,” she said. “I’m yours. You’re mine.”

  At that, he did slow. His entire body relaxed. Echo closed her eyes and tilted her head when he moved his mouth to her neck and kissed there. They were still one, still joined, but now there was more. He was as warm as she was. Warmer. The darkness was still there, but it stepped back. It faded. For her...just for her.

  The world didn’t stop, not entirely, but it slowed down. There was only him, and her, and the way they fit together. And pleasure. Oh, yes, there was pleasure, sharper and deeper than any she had ever known. When she tried to tell Ryder again that she loved him, the words were all but unintelligible.

  She climaxed quickly, too quickly, screaming as she lost all control.

  And then he came with her, and on the fading waves of her own climax visions not her own filled her swimming head.

  Fire.

  Illusion.

  Lightning.

  The snarl of an animal.

  Darkness.

  And beneath it all, light.

  Chapter 19

  He fought. In his mind, his heart, in the blood that rushed through his veins. Rye was at war with himself. A few minutes ago his life, his plans, had seemed so simple. All he needed was Cassidy. Together they would have anything and everything they wanted...

  Now, still inside her, still a part of her, he wanted Echo, too. He wouldn’t call this love; he didn’t believe in love, but he did want her.

  Naked, entangled in the center of the stones, he said, “Come with us. You, me, Cassidy... We can have it all.”

  She sighed; her warm chest rose and fell. “You’re an idiot. You already have it all.”

  He shouldn’t allow her to talk to him that way, but...he let the infraction slide. For now. So much had happened in such a short
time. He was free. Cassidy was safe. Echo was here. His. Knowing who he was and what he’d done, she still offered herself to him. Body, heart and soul.

  He rolled away. Touching her was a weakness. “We have nothing, not yet,” he said. “In time, we can rule the world.”

  She laughed. Laughed! Then she rose and looked at him. Naked and beautiful in the moonlight, flushed with pleasure, she was tempting. Still. Again.

  Her smile remained as she said, “You know, in comic books and movies villains always want to rule the world. But really, what do they expect to do with it once it’s theirs? Ruling the world just sounds like a lot of trouble to me. One problem after another.”

  He pushed her down, pinned her wrists to the ground and asked harshly, “What do you want?”

  In spite of her vulnerable position, she smiled at him with what she thought was love.

  “Easy,” she said. “I want you. I want music and, one day, I want babies. I didn’t think I wanted kids at all. Even earlier today... But I’ve changed my mind. Life is so short, so fragile.” She sighed and said again, “I want babies. I want to laugh and make love and occasionally just sit back to watch a particularly beautiful sunset. I normally miss the sunrise, but I’m sure they’re beautiful, too. Maybe I can learn to get up early enough to see it now and then.”

  That was ridiculous. Small and unimaginative. “You can have anything.”

  Her smile faded. “Anything?”

  “Yes!”

  “Love me.”

  Rye rolled away and grabbed his pants. What she wanted was impossible.

  “Well, you did say anything,” she said as she reached for her own clothes.

  Pants on, Rye sat in the center of the stone circle and closed his eyes. The darkness he had reclaimed remained, but it was touched with something new. Something he did not want. It was Echo and Cassidy; it was this place of white magic. What he felt, what interfered, was warmth in a cold world. He pushed the warmth down, shook it off as he might an annoying insect.

  Echo was dressed when she said, her tone serious, “I suppose what you’re experiencing now is very much like what a heroin addict goes through when they fall off the wagon. The rush is everything, and you don’t want to give it up. You have to think about what you must sacrifice in order to keep on experiencing that rush.”