he asked, his voice cold.
She was probably wasting her time, explaining why she’d come to him for help. He’d already turned her down flat! But he had asked the question—make what stop?—and she knew better than to lie to him. She didn’t know exactly what powers he had, what gifts he possessed. He might realize she was lying; he might already know why she had come.
The truth. What else did she have to offer?
“My name is Echo Raintree. I’m called the Raintree prophet, but everyone knows I’m a poor excuse for a prophet.” That was her curse, as much as the visions. Always a disappointment, always less than she should be. “My visions come too late. There’s never anything I can do to help the people I see and hear...and feel. There was a time when I only saw these horrible things in my dreams, but as you just witnessed that is no longer true.” She shivered, then pulled the front of her sweater closed as if that might warm her. “They come all the time now, day and night, without warning, just...” She shuddered. “I don’t know what to do.”
He did not move closer or drop his arms. Jaw tight, dark eyes cold, he responded. Somehow, his Irish accent was more pronounced than it had been before as he asked, “You want me to train you to be a better prophet?”
Her heart leaped. In the beginning, even just a few moments ago, that had been her plan. But as she lay on his bed, shaking, feeling as if she’d blink and be back in the burning building, she realized she wanted more than control. Much more.
“No. I want the visions gone. I want them wiped away, erased. I want...help. The kind of help only you can offer.”
There was an uncomfortably long pause before he responded. “You want a lot,” he said without emotion.
“Yes, I do.”
Anger flashed in his dark eyes. “Are you telling me there are no Raintrees who can help you?”
Again, she had to stick with the truth. If she lied to him and he found out, there would be hell to pay. One did not try to pull the wool over the eyes of a wizard. “They’ve tried, but...no luck.” Not knowing how much he knew, how much he saw, she had to tell all. “My cousins have attempted to teach me to control the visions. When I asked they said it was impossible to get rid of them entirely.” Gideon had refused to even discuss that possibility. “Maybe I’m too close to them, too connected. A st—” She caught herself. “Someone outside the clans seems like a better option, at this point.”
He didn’t respond for a few drawn-out seconds, and then he said in a lowered voice, “Poor Raintree princess can’t get her way at home so she flies across the pond to ask a stray for help.”
Her chin came up a bit. “I didn’t call you a stray.” Though she almost had. Caught. Echo swung her legs over the edge of the mattress, taking a deep breath in an attempt to regain her strength. If only her knees would stop knocking. It was impossible to be strong when her entire body was weak, shaking, drained. She didn’t want Duncan to see her as weak. Not that she should care what he thought of her. She’d never see him again, once she drove away from Cloughban.
Which would probably be very soon. It was looking as if her trip had been a complete waste of time, as if Ryder Duncan was not all he’d been rumored to be. Any decent teacher would see that she needed help and offer it!
“No, not out loud,” he said. “But isn’t that what you call those with magic who are unaffiliated with your clans?”
She stood. Anger helped her find her legs. “Okay, fine. I almost called you a stray. Sorry if that offends you. What would you prefer?”
“Independent.”
He remained angry; he’d called her a princess with disdain...yes, this trip had been a waste of time. She wanted to run, she wanted to hide from those dark, condemning eyes. “Stray seems more appropriate to me.” She walked toward the door he blocked, trying not to let him see how devastating his refusal was. She would not beg!
“Sorry to have bothered you.” She thought about the little girl—real or imagined—she’d been talking to before the vision began. Beneath her breath she mumbled, “I guess Cassidy was wrong.”
Duncan didn’t move away from the door. Echo had to stop a couple of feet short. It was that or physically move him, and given his size and very nice solidness, that wasn’t going to happen. After a few seconds, she waved her hand in a dismissive gesture. He still did not move. Dammit, did he want her to go or not?
“Cassidy?” he said in a lowered voice.
Echo sighed. “A little girl that was probably all in my head. I saw her, or imagined her, outside the pub right before this latest vision. She said I’d be here for a long time.” Wishful thinking, a real child with magic, a new precursor to the visions? She didn’t know. Cassidy had obviously been wrong when she’d said that Duncan would help her.
“What did she look like?” he asked.
She wanted out of here before she started to cry. She wanted to walk out with her head high and a smidgen of her dignity intact. A smidgen was all she could hope for at this point. If she stood here too long, neither would happen. “What difference does it make?”
“Indulge me.”
Echo backed away a little. Duncan could get under her skin much too easily. Just standing close to him made her shiver. Then again, maybe that was no more than lingering physical weakness thanks to her latest episode. Might as well give him what he wanted so she could boogie on out of here and have her nervous breakdown in private.
“Curly red hair, dark eyes, a few freckles. Maybe ten years old. She was on the sidewalk and then...she wasn’t.” She didn’t feel the need to explain anything more to him.
Instead of ushering her out of the room and down the stairs, Duncan stayed in place. He seemed to be contemplating her. Why? He’d already turned her down. Not once but two or three or four times.
“You give up far too easily, princess. Don’t you want to hear my answer?” he asked, and for the first time there was some humor in his voice. Dark humor, but at least a bit of his anger was gone.
“Fine.” She crossed her arms, much as he had. “Give me your answer.” Maybe it would make him feel better to tell her off before he let her go. Jerk.
“I will not strip away your gifts.”
“You wouldn’t call this a gift if you had it,” she snapped.
He held up a stilling hand. “It’s possible—I won’t tell you it’s not—but it isn’t an easy process. There would be a high price to pay. Your cousins were right to dismiss that option if they care for you at all.”
Well, that was interesting. Apparently what she wanted most of all was possible. She hadn’t been entirely sure. “What kind of price?” No price was too high; she’d do anything.
He ignored her. “I can teach you to control your abilities.”
Echo sighed. “I’ve tried, I really have. That’s not...”
“Of course it’s not what you want,” he interrupted. “You’re spoiled and undisciplined, and I suspect you have been all your life, princess. The gift of
