“I can’t...”
“No fear, Echo. No fear. You are in control. Past, present, future, you have the ability to see it all if you try. If you wish. If you embrace the visions without fear, then you will control them, not the other way around.”
After all this time, didn’t he understand her at all? “You wouldn’t say that if you’d lived your entire life reliving disasters, seeing and feeling people suffer and die, never being strong enough or fast enough to save them.”
He ignored her argument. He clasped her hand tight when she attempted to withdraw it from his. How was she supposed to run away when he held her so? She should not have turned. She should’ve gone on to the boardinghouse, packed her duffel bag and lit out without looking back.
But she had not.
“What do you wish to see?” Ryder asked. “Where do you want to go? Reach for it. I will help you.”
Still weak from the vision of Cassidy, she closed her eyes. Danger was coming for Cassidy, but at this moment it was Ryder Duncan she wanted to see. Who was he, really? What did he hide from her, other than his daughter and a complete lack of trust?
She did as he asked; she reached for what she wanted with everything she had inside. Instead of fighting her gift she
embraced it. For as long as she could remember, she’d approached her ability as if it were a separate entity from herself. A cancerous growth. A parasite. She now knew that wasn’t true. It was as much a part of her as the color of her eyes or her love for music.
For a moment, at least, she ruled her gift instead of the other way around. Echo was, at long last, in control. She saw a door ahead, a door she wished to step through. She placed her hand on a cold doorknob. She turned it; she pushed the heavy door open so she could step into a room she had never seen before.
Instead of seeing the present or the future, she went back in time. A scene formed before her, much as the vision of Cassidy had such a short time ago.
Ryder hadn’t changed much, but she could tell he was younger. Maybe not much more than twenty. Twenty-five. The scene before her was colorless, gray. The images around Ryder were indistinct, while he remained crystal clear.
As was the knife in his hand and the woman he stabbed through the heart.
Chapter 14
Echo snatched her hand from his and slid out of the booth.
“I can explain,” Rye said.
She wasn’t surprised that he’d seen what she’d seen. Just like in the vision of the Atlanta fire, he’d been with her, observing.
“I bet you can,” she said without slowing her stride. When she was near the door, she stopped, turning to face him. He wanted to chase her but he stayed seated because he knew if he stood she’d bolt from the pub. He didn’t want this conversation to take place on the street, where others might hear. How did he look to her from that vantage point? Innocent? No. He wondered if she saw that he had no regrets.
“Who was she?” Echo asked. “Someone who was a threat to you?” Someone like me?
No, he had no regrets. Still looking her in the eye, still seated, he said, “She was my wife. Cassidy’s mother. Her name was Sybil.”
Echo went pale; she took a long step back so that her spine was pressed against the door. She was ready to make a run for it; she was terrified of him and he hated knowing he was the cause of the fear in her eyes. The past was the past, and he’d done his best to leave it there. Unexamined. Unexplained.
He’d never bothered to explain himself to anyone. Had thought he never would. Echo was just a distraction, a bit of fun. He had never fooled himself into thinking that they might have more. He was who he was, and she...she was Raintree. She was also, perhaps, his only chance to identify the threat to Cassidy before it was too late.
As he watched, Echo relaxed. He could see it, feel it. She didn’t like what she’d seen—she’d been shocked by it—but she knew him. She accepted him in a way no one else ever had. After she’d taken a moment to think about what she’d seen, she was no longer afraid.
Maybe she should be.
“Did she give you that scar on your chest?” she asked. “Is that why you killed her?”
The truth. Nothing but the ugly truth. “Yes and no. She did stab me, minutes before I killed her, but that’s not why I did what I did.”
“Why, then?” He saw the flicker of hope in her eyes. She wanted to believe the best of him, but was having a difficult time of it. He couldn’t blame her.
Rye stood slowly. He took a step toward Echo, one single long step. She didn’t run. He didn’t dare get too close, though. She was still uncertain. She wanted to believe in him, but she’d seen a bit of his past that he’d tried, for nine years, to deny. To forget.
“Do you remember how I told you that your powers could be removed but there would be a high price to pay?” He didn’t give her a chance to respond. “After Cassidy was born, Sybil begged me to strip away her powers. She controlled fire, but like you she was afraid of her ability and sometimes it got out of control. When Cassidy was nine months old Sybil accidentally burned her. It was a small burn, but the baby screamed and then Sybil screamed.” He still heard those screams in his nightmares. Both of them, a nightmare in stereo.
“We were both young, too young to be proper parents, but we did try. What had happened scared us. Terrified us, to be honest. I agreed to strip away Sybil’s abilities. I knew it wouldn’t be easy. I realized there were risks, but...” He looked at her; she had to know.