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“Some of you remember what I was like before,” he said. “I’m back.”
“It’s temporary!” Echo interjected. “We’ll remove the curse after we take care of...of...those who are coming.”
“Curse?” Doyle asked.
Doyle hadn’t been here before Cassidy was born. He had never seen the man Rye could be. There were few lifelong residents of Cloughban. People came and went. They got what they were coming for—peace or instruction or respite—and then they often moved on. But a few had known him all his life. They’d witnessed his dark power. Did they see that it was worse now for being denied for so long?
The true man he was—and perhaps could be again—rose to the surface for a moment. He looked to Doyle. It was an effort, but he forced the words out.
“If she can’t remove the curse, kill me.”
* * *
Echo ran everyone out of the pub and locked the door behind them. A solemn Doyle had been the last to leave. That done, she spun on Ryder.
“Kill you? Have you lost your mind?”
The man she loved, the man who would die to protect her and Cassidy and the people of this town, was no longer at the surface. “He can try. They can all try. You saw what I did to Maisy.” Ryder—not Ryder—smirked. “Maybe he’ll try to brain me with a flying pot.”
She was not amused. “I told you, I have a plan,” she said. “It might take some time...”
“We don’t have time,” he responded. “I suspect the heat of the battle that’s coming will force out what’s left of the man you want me to be.” He narrowed his eyes. “You have done a remarkable job of shielding this plan from me. I can normally see your thoughts so well. What is it that you don’t want me to know?”
Echo lifted her chin. She wanted to trust him, but...she couldn’t. Not yet. “I’m not going to take the chance that your less-pleasant half will decide to put an end to it before I even get started.”
“Not many people can hide anything from me.”
He pushed, a little. Echo felt that push through her entire body. It was like fighting an ocean wave or a strong gust of wind on a stormy day. She pushed back, calling on every ounce of power she possessed. This had to work! It simply had to. She’d gladly share her idea with the man she loved, but if he knew would the other try to stop her?
It was surprisingly easy to think of the man before her as two separate bei
ngs. One was the man she loved, the man she would do anything for. The other had been created by the curse, and was doing his best to take over. For now, both men inhabited the same body, but that wouldn’t last much longer. One would win. The other would die.
“Was it like this before?” she asked.
He knew exactly what it was she wanted to know. “Was I a Jekyll and Hyde?” She didn’t like the smirk that followed. “Not always, but as I became stronger my presence became more clear to others. Most of the decisions he made were mine, not his own. I was weeks, perhaps even days, away from casting the other out when he put the restraints on me.”
He took a few steps closer to her. “I was sleeping when he killed his wife, so don’t believe for a moment that the man you think you love is an angel. He’s far from it.”
“He had no choice,” she whispered.
“Didn’t he?” The man she began to think of as Dark Ryder reached out to touch her cheek. “He liked it,” he whispered. “He liked the rush of taking a life, the blood, the look in his wife’s eyes as she left this earth. He’d grown tired of the woman who was, to be honest, a whiny bitch.” Broad shoulders shrugged, eyes darkened. “She asked him to take away her abilities and he did, and then she went nuts because she didn’t have her abilities. Just like a woman, never satisfied with what she has. She was a lot like you, and you’re going to come to the same end.”
“Ryder won’t hurt me,” she insisted in a low whisper.
“Not yet,” he conceded. “But when I’m in complete control no one will be able to stop me. Soon the time will come for you to make a choice. Join Cassidy and me when we leave, or die.” He leaned down and placed cold lips on her throat. She could back away, she could move, but she knew that her presence was the only thing keeping the man she loved awake.
His arms slipped around her; he held her close. Echo reached deep within herself, searching for every bit of magic she possessed. She needed to see into the future to know how to save him. And herself.
But the future was not yet set. It was fluid, ever shifting. She could see so many possibilities, dark and light, swirling together. In one future she was successful in casting out the darkness of the curse. Ryder, her Ryder, was saved. The intruders were defeated and Cloughban was once more a safe haven for those like her. Like Ryder and Cassidy and all the rest.
In another possible future she saved Ryder too soon. He faced the invaders weakened, lost. Those who called themselves Ansara but were not won and they both died ugly. She couldn’t help but think of the tombstones in her dream.
In another possible future she made her move too late. She could not save her Ryder no matter how she tried. The darkness won, and while a battle raged around them he drove a knife through her heart with a smile on his face and left town while Cloughban burned.
One chance out of three. Not exactly as discouraging as the odds of winning the lottery, but she did wish they were more in her favor. She’d never been able to see her own future; that wasn’t the way it worked. Was that why she had no clearer picture? Or was it simply that what was to come would not be set until they made the decisions that led to it? Either way, she was all but blinded to what might happen.
She wanted to tell someone, anyone, what Brigid had helped her to discern not long ago. Those who were coming were not Ansara; they had simply taken the name as their own. Maybe they’d chosen it because in the past the Ansara clan had had such a savage reputation. Did it matter? Would being called by a different name make them any less fearsome?
