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A gentle hand on his arm stilled him. He stopped, turned. She faced him now, but she was stoic, almost withdrawn. He tried to touch her mind, and found he could not. Because she was closed to him or because he had been shocked to hear her warning?
“Not now,” she said. “It happens after the weather turns cold. In my... I was...” She shook her head as if to clear it. “It began to snow. There was a man...or a woman. I couldn’t see clearly. Whoever the robed figure was, they had Cassidy trapped in the middle of a strange stone circle.”
“Trapped? Trapped how?”
“She was being threatened with a knife.”
It was his worst nightmare, that he wouldn’t be able to protect her.
“She asked for my help, but I...I couldn’t get to her.” Echo took a deep, stilling breath and then she looked him straight in the eye. “Why didn’t you tell me? I asked you specifically about Cassidy, and you told me you didn’t know her. You let me think she was a product of my own imagination.”
He’d done more than that. He’d tried to make her forget his daughter. He’d gone into her mind and tried to gently push all thoughts of Cassidy out of it. That particular spell hadn’t taken. Because Echo was too strong or because Cassidy had interfered? She did like Echo, for some reason.
How could he explain that he’d been protecting his daughter from Echo’s family? He didn’t think they would harm her, but they were Raintree and they thought that when it came to those of their kind—the magically gifted—they had free rein. They might want to make her a part of their clan. They might want to study Cassidy; they’d almost surely want to take her away until they were sure she was no danger to them or to others. And if they determined that she was a danger...
His daughter was the magical equivalent of a nuclear bomb. In the wrong hands, she could do a lot of damage. What had happened to the last clan they’d deemed a threat? The Ansara had been wiped out. No, those who called themselves Ansara, who had the blood of that powerful family, had been either killed or absorbed into the Raintree clan.
“I see,” Echo said in a lowered voice.
“Stop peeking into my head.” Why could she see his thoughts when just now hers had been closed to him? His own panic, he supposed. Or else, as he’d suspected, she was now protecting herself from him.
“I can’t help it,” she said. “It’s not all the time, thank goodness, but sometimes it’s like you’re inside my head whether I want you there or not. There have been times when it was pleasant enough to peek into your head, but...it hurts to hear so very clearly that you don’t trust me.”
“That’s not true. I don’t trust your family,” he clarified.
“Same difference,” she said, then she dropped her hand and walked away. She was headed for the boardinghouse, across the street and down a short distance. She didn’t run, but there was purpose in her step.
If he didn’t stop her she’d climb into her rental car and drive to the airport and be gone. In so many ways that would be for the best. He’d wished for her to go; he’d realized that his life would not be simple again until she was out of it.
In other ways, her leaving would be a terrible loss.
There were others here in Cloughban who could see the future. None were as powerful as Echo, none were called prophet. Still, with their help and with the information he already had to go on he could save Cassidy without her.
But dammit, he didn’t want to.
“Stop!” he said in a voice that would carry without being too commanding. He didn’t follow her into the street, he didn’t chase after her. He knew Echo well enough to understand that if he attempted to physically restrain her she’d just run farther and faster. “Don’t leave. Stay.”
She turned, but did not backtrack. Her expression was one of determination. There was no weakness there. No softness. No love.
“Don’t get sentimental on me, Duncan. It was just sex. There are plenty of other women in Cloughban who would be more than happy to warm your bed. No wonder someone tried to scare me out of town by threatening my family. Someone saw this happening. They saw us. But there is no us, is there?”
“I’m not asking you to stay for me,” Rye said, his voice rough. On a deep and undeniable level, he knew it had to be her. She was necessary; she was here in Cloughban for a reason. “I’m asking you to help me save my daughter.”
* * *
Before coming to Cloughban she’d never tried to bring on a vision. It wasn’t like she enjoyed them, or could control who or what she’d see. All her life she’d done everything possible to get rid of them, and there had never been any hint of control. What Ryder was asking her to do was impossible. Since she’d arrived he’d been trying to get her to purposely take a glimpse into the future. So far, she’d had no luck.
Of course, she’d also thought it was impossible for her to have a vision about an event that wouldn’t take place for days or even weeks. It might be months before there was snow in Cloughban. Snow was not a usual occurrence in Ireland, though it wasn’t impossible to get a few flakes, Ryder had said.
What she’d seen had been a full-on winter storm.
They sat at the back corner table, where the trio of old men normally sat. Ryder took her hand, and she grudgingly allowed him to have it.
“The reason you have such a problem controlling your abilities is simple enough, love.”
“Don’t call me love,” she snapped. It was impossible to love someone you did not trust.
He sighed and continued. “Fear. Fear colors every vision you experience. Before, during and after, you are afraid. As a result, the visions rule you—you don’t rule them.”
