Raintree: Oracle. Linda Winstead Jones
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Название: Raintree: Oracle
Автор: Linda Winstead Jones
Издательство: HarperCollins
Жанр: Современные любовные романы
isbn: 9781474008631
isbn:
It took no special powers to realize that neither of these women would ever be a friend to Echo. She got a sharp glance from both girls, then they gave their full piranha-like attention to the bar and the two men there.
Shay had her sights set firmly on Duncan; Maisy smiled coyly at Doyle. The poor guys didn’t stand a chance...
Outside the pub, the wind howled with a sudden burst. A few heads turned toward the rattling door. Echo continued to play without a hitch; this was a song she knew well.
Shay leaned over the counter, all but thrusting her breasts at Duncan. Hers were not as impressive as Maisy’s, but she didn’t have a boyish figure, either. Echo couldn’t care less, but really, did the woman have no shame?
The wind picked up and the old building creaked. The wind howled so loudly it drowned out a couple of words of her song. Everyone looked up and back; the door rattled as if an invisible hand was shaking it, trying desperately to get in.
This was a weird town, and Echo had to wonder if someone in the pub, or outside it, was responsible for the sudden wind. Someone who had a gift for manipulating the weather. Someone who could bring the wind and the rain.
Duncan caught her eye, and a voice—his voice—whispered in her head.
That someone is you, love.
“I don’t control the weather,” Echo said succinctly when she and Rye were finally alone. She’d been about to burst with questions for the past two hours, but she’d held it in until everyone else had left.
“There was little bleedin’ control involved, I’ll grant you that.” She’d come to him in order to master the visions she did not want, and it was clear that she fought natural empathic abilities, as well. Now this? What other surprises were hidden deep in that seemingly delicate body?
The guitar she’d borrowed from him lay abandoned on the small stage; all the customers, as well as Doyle, had gone home. As they’d left, a few had whispered that a fierce storm might be coming.
They were not entirely wrong.
“You were upset to see Maisy flirting with Doyle, I expect, and that...”
“I was not!” Echo snapped defensively.
No, it had not been Doyle. Rye had seen into her mind clearly enough to know better, but she didn’t need to know everything he saw or sensed. He didn’t like how easily he slipped into her mind, how oddly near her thoughts were to his. The ability to see so much wasn’t normal for him, not now. Even before, such connections had been all but impossible.
“Something upset you, and the wind came,” he said. “Was it a missed note? An unexpected thought of your parents?”
She leaned back, pursed her lips and then said, “I did think about my parents and wonder how long it would take Gideon to get them to Sanctuary.”
“That was likely it, then.”
Echo seemed to relax a little. “Maybe there was just a perfectly normal shift in the weather,” she argued.
“Wishful thinking, love.” The endearment slipped out. Love. Maybe she was so upset she’d miss it. “There was nothing normal about that change in the wind.”
She narrowed one eye. The expression was likely meant to be fearsome, but it was not. There was not a fearsome bone in her fine body. “By the way, speaking of not normal...stay out of my head!”
He remained calm. “You invited me in, or I could not have been there.”
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