Oberon Boxed Set (Books 1-3) Welcome to Oberon

by P. G. Forte

  Only two weeks! He marveled at that thought, too. Only two weeks? Only? Ha!

  It was a wonder how much he had accomplished in those two weeks. Or maybe not. Perhaps it was only fair when every minute seemed to last an hour, that you could squeeze an hour’s worth of work into each one. It hadn’t hurt, either, to have had all that extra time when he should have been sleeping. But sleep had become a torment of dreams now. Something to fall into when he could no longer avoid it, and then struggle to escape from.

  He found himself having to slow down, again and again, either to avoid wiping out on the slippery straw which seemed to spill from every parking lot; or to keep from colliding with the legions of costumed children who stumbled along in the road.

  Witch costumes were very popular again this year, he noticed. He couldn’t help but think about the kind of reception he might get from his own witch.

  Two weeks. He wondered if she would have changed too, since the last time he’d seen her. He wondered if she’d be willing to forgive him yet. Or ever.

  The icy shard of doubt that pierced his heart when she denied caring had spread a chill all through him that nothing could dispel. And to think, he had once worried about getting burned!

  He nearly wiped out on a patch of wet leaves, as he took a curve too fast. His mind was so consumed with thoughts of what she might say, how she might look, when he might see her again, that he failed to watch where he was going. He forced himself to slow down yet again. It wouldn’t do him any good to get there too soon, anyway.

  He figured the chance was fifty-fifty that she’d go out to the cabin tonight for the full moon. The odds dropped away to dismal when he considered whether she’d actually consent to stay, once he arrived. But she did hate to drive in the dark. And he couldn’t help but cling to the faint hope that maybe she’d be looking for an excuse to stay. And that if he gave her one – even so obvious a one as that – perhaps she’d take it?

  He had to believe she still cared. Or that he could find a way to make her care again. He had to believe there was a way to break through her resistance. Just one more time. He knew all about turning resistance into support. He knew he could turn things around again. He had to! All he needed was another chance.

  The sun had sunk low in the sky when he pulled into the Buena Vista parking lot, but it was still too early to continue out into the canyon. And he was feeling too edgy, anyway. He ordered a cup of herbal tea and settled into a booth with a view of the bay, waiting for the sun to go down and for night to fall. For the moon to rise. For his future to be decided.

  * * *

  Marsha sat back on her heels in the damp grass and looked around. Moonlight illuminated the grove around her and the air was still and peaceful. She was exhausted, both by the weeks of strain, and by the struggle to concentrate on the ceremony she had just completed, but all the same, she did feel better now. At least a little. She felt calmer and more centered, but still so sore and weary inside that she just wanted to lie down in the grass and sleep for a week. Except that wasn’t possible, of course. She’d have to find another way out of her depression.

  She had just finished packing her things back into the van when she heard the sound of a motor – so faint that she first thought she was hearing something that only existed within the confines of memory and imagination. She curled her toes into the cool earth, as if seeking support there, when she realized the sounds she heard did not originate within her mind. She should have seen this coming. She should have known he would plan something like this.

  But perhaps she had. Perhaps this was partly why she’d come here tonight. Hope flared briefly in her heart, and was as quickly extinguished by anger and fear. She would not go through this again! She couldn’t bear to.

  She watched the beam from his headlight slice through the darkness, and thought he meant to park behind her van and trap her in the drive. But at the last moment he swerved and brought the bike to a stop on the grass alongside the van. And then she had to wonder whether it was because he was so arrogantly certain that she wouldn’t leave.

  She watched as he took off his helmet and climbed off his bike. Watched as he walked to within several feet of her and stopped, his hands jammed into the pockets of his jacket, just as they’d been the last time she’d seen him.

  “Hello, Marsha,” he said, his voice as warm as she remembered it.

  “What are you doing here, Sam?” Her own voice sounded as hollow as she felt.

  He looked away, shrugging a little as he answered. “Oh, I don’t know. I thought you’d maybe be out here tonight. And well... I guess I was worried. What with that bear around, and all.”

  Fury all but stole her breath away. Lies. More lies. Always lies! “Oh, right. The bear. How could I have forgotten? Thanks all the same, but I think I’d rather take my chances with a bear than with you.”

  The coldness in her voice knocked the wind from his lungs as neatly as if she’d thrown a rock at his chest. Sam cleared his throat, but it was an effort just to breathe.

  “Yeah, well, also, I uh... well, I rented out my co-op and I didn’t really have a place to stay. And my bike was still out in LA, so... anyway, I figured since I’m paid up here ‘til the end of the month I might as well take advantage of it, right?”

  She shook her head. “You always were good at that.”

  “Look,” he tried again. “It’s cold. It’s late. And I’m really tired. Would you mind very much if we continued this discussion inside?”

  “Actually, you can do whatever you want here – for the rest of the month, that is. But I’m leaving.”

  “Are you?” he asked, barely able to get the words out.

  “Why? What did you think? That I’d be so afraid of driving, that if you got here after dark, I wouldn’t leave?”

  “It had crossed my mind,” he admitted, still unable to meet her eyes.

  “Well, guess again!” she snapped. “You think you know me so well, don’t you?”

  That got his attention. He looked at her then, returning her angry stare with a sure one of his own. “Yes. I think I do.”

  “Well, you know what? You’re wrong.” She crossed her arms tightly over her chest and glared at him. “You don’t know me at all.”

  His jaw clenched. “You think not? Okay, then, how about this. I know there’s a damn good chance you’re gonna drive out of here in the next couple of minutes because, as uncomfortable as you are with driving at night, there’s something here that scares you even more.”

  “And what would that be, Sam? Your imaginary bear?”

  “No,” he said simply, refusing to be drawn by her anger. “You’re afraid of what you feel for me. You’re afraid of getting hurt again.” He waited, watching as her shoulders sagged, but she didn’t respond. “I’m right, aren’t I?”

  “So what if you are?” she said at last, her voice soft in defeat, but no less cold. “Saying it doesn’t change anything. I can’t stop feeling the way I do just because you want me to.”

  He sighed. “I know. Neither can I.”

  She nodded then and moved past him to her van, pausing in the open door to look at him. “Good bye, Sam,” she said softly as she climbed inside.

  There was just the slightest hitch in her voice; it made her ‘good-bye’ sound far too final. And suddenly, he found that he could move, too. His hands closed on the van’s open window frame.

  “You’re going to have to deal with this sometime, Marsha,” he told her fiercely. “You’re gonna have to deal with me. Because I’m not going anywhere. I’ll still be here tomorrow and the next day, and the week after that. And if you kick me out of here at the end of the month, I’ll just find somewhere else around here to stay. But I am not giving up on this. I can’t. I’m not leaving.”

  She nodded again. Not looking at him at all now, but staring straight out the front windshield. “Maybe not, but I am.”

  He stopped then. What was the point? He’d get no second chance tonight. He stepped bac
k stiffly and waited to watch her pull away.

  Her hands were shaking and it took her several tries to get the key to fit in the ignition. She pressed down on the gas and turned the key. Nothing happened. It took a moment for that to sink in. She tried again. She tried another time, but still the engine would not turn over and her breath came faster as panic began to set in. She had to leave. She had to get the van to start. She had to get away. From here. From him.

  “Something wrong?” She jumped at the sound of his voice just outside the window.

  “It won’t start,” she muttered, still trying.

  “Maybe you aren’t meant to leave,” he suggested, a suspicious warmth in his voice.

  Damn him for making fun of her! She turned her head to scowl at him. His smile was sad and tender, and she had to look away again.

  “Okay, so then what do you think it’s trying to tell you?” he asked softly.

  “I think it’s trying to tell me that this van is a piece of shit!” she yelled in frustration, slamming her fist into the steering wheel, way closer to tears than she wanted to be. Desperate, she pumped the gas and tried the key again.

  “Hey!” he chuckled softly, “Watch what you say about her. I have a real fondness for this piece of shit van of yours.”

  His tenderness did her in, as always. She put her head down on the wheel and let the tears come.

  “Aw, no, angel. Please don’t cry,” he begged her, reaching through the window. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. Really. I never meant to hurt you.”

  She jumped at the touch of his hand against the back of her neck and raised her head. “Why are you doing this to me?” she asked despairingly, “Why can’t you leave me alone? Just let me go!”

  “I can’t,” he said with a shrug. “I love you too much to let you go.”

  “No. You don’t. You can’t. If you really loved me you’d see what this was doing to me. You wouldn’t hurt me this way!” she raged.

  He dropped his hand from her neck as if she’d burnt it, shoving both hands back into his pockets. Pain flared in his eyes. “Is that so? I seem to remember you saying once that you loved me, and I don’t see where that’s stopped you from hurting me any. Or maybe you were lying, too, then?”

  “That’s not fair,” she gasped, as the truth of his words struck her.

  “No, it sure isn’t,” he muttered angrily. “Marsha... I know I was wrong. And I am truly sorry that I hurt you. I swear I’d do anything to make it up to you, but how can I, when you won’t even let me try!”

  Tears blurred her vision as she looked at him. “I don’t want to hurt you, Sam, but—”

  “No? Well, you are.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Yeah, so am I.” He sighed, and dropped his gaze from her face. “Look, like I said, it’s late. And you’re obviously not going anywhere tonight, so let’s just go inside and sleep on it. Who knows? Maybe things will look better in the morning. Don’t worry,” he added with a bitter little laugh. “I realize there’s no chance you’re gonna share a bed with me tonight. But I think maybe we both need to get some sleep.”

  He was right, of course. Although he could have no idea how badly she needed sleep, or how unlikely she was to get it here with him.

  She opened the door to climb out of the van, but she put her foot down on a rock and it rolled beneath her; her ankle twisted and she started to fall. He grabbed hold of her arm and energy rushed through her – the same warm tingles she’d noticed right from the start, whenever he’d laid his hands on her. Her soul resounded. Her heart sang. Sam. She bit back the cry that rose to her lips, swallowed hard as tears blinded her. She wanted so much to believe that he loved her. But how could she? Closing her eyes, she prayed for another sign. Because this seemed a lot less like a new beginning than a cruel cosmic joke at her expense. And her heart could not afford another mistake.

  Sam had reached for her instinctively when she’d started to fall, intending only to steady her. But the warmth of her was his undoing. He was struggling against the sudden urge to haul her up onto her toes and kiss her senseless when he heard her startled gasp and felt her stiffen beside him. She was staring past him – at something in the clearing at his back. He turned his head to follow her gaze and saw the bear approaching. Without stopping to think, he spun around to face it; pushing her behind him, shielding her in the space between the car door and his body.

  She struggled to see around him as the bear padded closer in eerie silence, its fur glowing faintly in the moonlight. It stopped mere inches from them, lifting its nose and turning its head from side to side as if it found them curious. And then it was gone again. Ambling off into the shadows, as quietly as it had come.

  Sam felt his muscles thaw in relief.

  “That was... was that... did you see... ?” She sounded utterly confounded.

  “A bear,” he answered weakly. “Yeah. What d’you think I’ve been telling you?”

  “No.” Her voice was firmer now. “No, way. That’s just ridiculous, Sam. That wasn’t – that couldn’t have been— Damn it, there are no bears here. There just aren’t!”

  He had to laugh at her stubbornness. “Oh, yeah? So what was it then?”

  “I don’t know,” she answered uncertainly. She bit her lip. “I just don’t know.”

  “Uh-huh. And weren’t you the one who said the worst kind of skeptic is someone who won’t believe his or her own senses?”

  “This is different,” she snapped, nearly falling again as she tried to put weight on her ankle. “Shit.”

  He scooped her up in his arms and headed for the cabin. Bear or no bear, he wanted to get them safe inside.

  “Put me down,” she insisted before he’d gone more than a couple of steps. “I’m too heavy. You can’t—”

  “Marsha,” he ordered, “Don’t worry about it. We’re fine.”

  She shifted restlessly, clutching at his neck, her discomfort evident on her face. “Really, Sam, I—”

  “If you’re that concerned I’m gonna drop you, stop squirming around so much,” he growled, suppressing a smile as she went instantly still. He’d swear he could feel her trying to shrink into herself in an attempt to lighten his load. He couldn’t imagine why she was worried. Maybe all the extra hours he’d spent in the gym these last two weeks were paying off, because he felt as if he could carry her clear across the state if he had to. It wasn’t her weight he was conscious of now, but rather the pure pleasure of having her in his arms again, for what he knew might be the very last time.

  He really didn’t care how embarrassed it made her to be carried like this, he wouldn’t cede a single minute of it.

  He climbed the steps to the porch and stopped before the locked door. “The keys are in my pocket,” he told her. She could find some way of getting them out, or they could just stand there ‘til morning. It made no difference to him. But what he wasn’t about to do was let her go.

  “It… it’s okay, I have mine,” she answered after a moment, her voice subdued.

  He nodded. “That’ll work.”

  As she leaned down to unlock the door, he was vividly aware of the warm flow of energy cascading over his shoulders from the fingers of the hand she still had braced around his neck. Oh, man, he’d missed that. He’d grown addicted to the feeling in the short time he’d known her. He couldn’t bear to think he might never get to feel her touch again.

  She pushed open the door and he halted again, just inside, to let her switch on the lights. The coziness of the little cabin enveloped them in warmth as he kicked the door shut behind them. He put her down gently, reluctantly, on the couch, and then crouched to take a look at her ankle. It was slightly swollen. He felt her grow still as he probed it carefully.

  Without warning, she leaned forward and he felt the warmth of her fingers against his face. He looked up at her, longingly. A little of the ice in his chest melted at the tenderness he saw in her eyes. A tiny trickle of hope ran through him. “Marsha?”

 
; “You really did think you saw a bear out here that other night. Didn’t you?” she asked hopefully. “That wasn’t just a story?”

  “Yes.” He paused, afraid of saying the wrong thing. But more afraid to let the moment pass without at least trying. “I really wasn’t lying about everything, you know.”

  Her gaze faltered for a moment. “No. But even when – even when we were in bed, you didn’t want me to know what you were really thinking, did you?”

  He stared at her helplessly. He didn’t know how to answer that. He couldn’t remember what he’d been thinking, or even if he’d been thinking at all, while he made love to her. Other than how much he wanted her. And he certainly hadn’t ever tried to hide that from her.

  “I’m sorry,” he murmured, finally; the only response he could think to make.

  “It doesn’t matter,” she told him sadly. “It’s too late now, anyway. And I’m too tired.” Then, leaning forward even further, she kissed him.

  It was a soft kiss, tender and sweet, and though he didn’t know whether she meant to offer it in forgiveness or farewell, he took it just the same. And kissed her back just as softly; gathering her into his arms as he slid onto the couch beside her. He held her against him, even after she broke off kissing him and laid her head against his chest with a tired sigh.

  “I’m just so sorry I gave you that amulet,” she said after a moment.

  He looked at her in surprise. He’d almost forgotten about that. “Sorry? Why?”

  She hesitated for a moment. And then, “The eagle totem. I shouldn’t have – it was supposed to help you see things more clearly. To read thoughts and…stuff like that.”

  He shrugged. “Well, it worked. Obviously. I guess it was just what I needed.”

  “You didn’t ask for it, though. I shouldn’t have done it.”