“I’m not the master of anything,” she whispe
red.
“You are,” he said. “Whether you like it or not, you are. The question is, will you accept who you are or will you deny it until the uncontrolled energy that’s flowing into your body destroys you?”
What choice did she have? None.
Duncan rotated his head as if working a crick out of his neck. He closed his eyes. The muscles in his arms and in his neck visibly tensed.
And Echo was assaulted. Under normal circumstances, she’d dismiss the sudden sensations as nerves or maybe an illness coming on. Her stomach clenched. The hairs on her arms stood up and danced. The assault continued; it grew stronger. Yes, this was what a coming vision felt like.
“Energy,” Duncan said. “You can allow it to assault you or you can take control.”
“How?”
“Shield yourself. Use your own energy to repel mine.”
She tried. Goodness knows she’d been taught how to protect herself against negative energies, but it had never felt like this. She was under attack.
“Try harder,” Duncan insisted.
Instead of arguing—her first impulse—Echo did. She tried harder. She strengthened her shield, imagined it thicker, stronger. Impenetrable.
She didn’t say a word when she no longer felt the distress of the energies Duncan was sending her way, but he knew. Almost immediately he said, “Good. Now, allow a small amount of the energy in.”
“I just managed to block it out.”
“You’re not controlling the energies, though, you’re just protecting yourself.”
That was the point, right? Echo took a deep breath. No, simple protection was not the point. Not anymore.
She tried to allow a small stream of energy in, but soon her shields fell and she was once again awash in amazing streams of force that Duncan sent her way.
The attack stopped, and he took a step back. “Not bad,” he said in a lowered voice. “But we still have a lot of work to do. We’ll try again tomorrow.”
Tomorrow. She would be here tomorrow, and the next day, and the next. Why did that knowledge bring a smile to her face?
* * *
Rye fingered the leather cord that peeked out from his collar. After a moment he made an adjustment, pushing the cord beneath his shirt so it didn’t show. The blessed stone at his throat and the leather cuff on his right wrist never came off. They couldn’t. He could fashion a charmed amulet for Echo, but he knew her cousins had tried that and charms hadn’t proven sufficient.
Besides, he didn’t want her to depend on charms and spells to deal with her abilities. She had to learn. Acceptance had to be step one. Her constant fight against who and what she was had made it impossible for her to take charge.
He knew very well what he was, what he could be.
If he was going to teach control, perhaps he should find some of his own. He didn’t possess nearly enough to deal with Echo Raintree, day in and day out. To watch her, to touch her, to step into visions with her so she would not be alone. The kiss had been a colossal mistake, one he dared not repeat.
She’d be here soon for yet another afternoon lesson. After an hour, maybe an hour and a half at most, they would both be spent. He taught, she learned. They both worked very hard to ignore the attraction that sparked between them. Her ability to shield herself was improving quickly, but she still had trouble controlling the energy around her.
He should’ve sent Echo away when he could have. That first day, he should’ve stood his ground and sent her packing. Not only did he now care about her more than he should, she’d been touched by the power of the stones. He had to finish the job, or she’d leave in worse shape than she’d been when she’d arrived. They had made progress, as her last vision proved.
She’d called her cousin in North Carolina, Gideon, the one who was a cop. Gideon made calls of his own and had saved a young man who’d snuck into an abandoned building to practice his skateboarding skills just minutes before a quickly spreading electrical fire broke out.
Rye hadn’t told Echo about the stones, and if he had any choice he wouldn’t. They were tempting. Intoxicating. Powerful. And the last thing he needed was a parade of power-hungry Raintrees marching through Cloughban. Taking her there would be a last resort.
He had not told her about Cassidy, either, and as far as he knew they’d not had another encounter. Just as well. The Raintree could not know about his daughter.
For the past five days the sun had shone in Cloughban. Echo had not had another vision, not sleeping or waking. Considering how they’d been progressing, she was surprised. Pleased, but surprised.