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

by P. G. Forte

  Whoa! Down, girl, she admonished herself, when she realized where her thoughts were heading. The man might qualify as eye candy, but he wasn’t much more than a kid. She was not going to turn into a cradle robber at this late date.

  “So, this dinner that’s coming up, it’s this weekend, isn’t it?” His voice broke into her thoughts.

  She looked at him in surprise. “Yes, that’s right. It’s this Saturday night. Why?”

  “Well, Nick says you’re the one to ask about tickets.”

  “You want tickets?” she asked, hoping she’d misunderstood. “Why? You’re not thinking of going, are you?”

  “Well, yeah, I am. Frankly, Nick looked relieved at the idea of having a little back-up and besides, it sounds like fun. Good food, good wine... good company.” He glanced at her and smiled. “You are going to be there, aren’t you?”

  “Yes, but... well, you know, there’ll be dancing, Ryan. I mean, it is a dinner dance, after all, and...”

  He looked faintly amused. “Are you asking me if I’ll dance with you?”

  “No, I was worried about your leg,” she blurted out, and could have bitten her tongue when his amusement was replaced by stark coldness.

  “Well, don’t worry about it,” he said as he retreated into silence. “My leg is fine.”

  * * * *

  Marsha gripped the wheel and peered nervously through her windshield. She hated having to drive in weather like this. Or in the rain, or in any weather that wasn’t perfect, in fact. Just like she hated driving in the dark, or on narrow, winding roads. It hadn’t always been that way, but near fatal car crashes had a way of doing that to a person, she supposed. It had to her, anyway. She’d never been entirely certain that the psychic abilities she’d walked away from the crash with were worth the physical and emotional scars she’d also been fated to carry.

  She hated mornings, too. At least, not mornings themselves just trying to function in them. During the last few years Jasmine was the one who’d really taken charge of getting everybody moving in the morning. It hadn’t been fair, letting a child take on so much responsibility. She’d always known it wasn’t fair. But she’d been so very young when her daughter was born and Jasmine had always seemed in such a hurry to grow up. She sometimes wondered if Jasmine had ever really gotten the chance to be a kid at all. She’d always felt a little guilty about that, and she still did. But that didn’t stop her from wishing her daughter was still around, still getting them all out of the house every day.

  “When do you think Sherry’s going to have her baby?” Jesse broke his uncharacteristic silence to ask. “You don’t think it’ll be this weekend, do you?”

  “Could be,” Marsha told him. “She’s not due for another couple of weeks though, right?”

  Jesse shrugged. “I dunno.”

  “Dad says if Sherry goes into labor when we’re with him, you’ll have to come and get us,” Frank spoke up suddenly from the back seat.

  “I know. We’ve discussed it.” Marsha saw no point in mentioning that the discussion had consisted of Alex informing her of his decision. Nothing new there, after all. “There’s no problem with that, you know. I can always come and get you – no matter what the reason. Any time you need me to. You guys know that, right?”

  “Yeah, but what if it’s this weekend?” Jesse persisted. “You’re not going to be home, are you?”

  “Oh.” Understanding dawned. Saturday was Imbolg, one of the four Great Sabbats on the Wiccan calendar. When her friend Celeste had been alive, Marsha had spent the holidays with her. Now, Celeste was dead and her cabin belonged to Marsha. And Sam was living in it, as the boys were well aware. But she’d still planned on conducting a small ceremony there Saturday night.

  “No, I’ll be going out to the cabin for part of the weekend,” she admitted, cautiously. “Same as always. But look, guys, even if she did go into labor this weekend, it would still be okay. If I have to, I’ll come back into town. You have the number out there right? And for my cell phone? So, you don’t have to worry about—”

  “But you hate to drive at night,” Frank pointed out. “Especially that far.”

  “Yes, that’s true. But—”

  “And maybe you’ll be too busy to answer your phone, or something.”

  Busy? Marsha cast a startled glance at her son. Damn it, what exactly did he mean by that? And why did they always wait until they were on their way to school to ambush her with stuff like this? She considered pulling over to finish the conversation, but then they’d all be late. She still wasn’t sure what they were even talking about. “Look, I’m not going to be too busy to get there if you need me. Are we clear on that?”

  “But if you didn’t want to, for some reason,” Frank continued, as if she hadn’t even spoken, “I suppose you could always ask Sam to pick us up. Couldn’t you?”

  “Yeah. Hey, that’s a great idea!” Jesse chimed in. Giving a very good impression of someone who’d never considered the idea before. Marsha eyed them both with suspicion as she tried to come up with a suitable response. She’d love to believe that this was just about their wanting another excuse to ride in his car, but she’d never been that lucky.

  “I suppose I could do that,” she said, speaking levelly. “But you know guys, there’ll probably come a time when Sam won’t be around as much as he is now. So don’t get... don’t get too used to depending on him for stuff like this. Okay?”

  Dead silence greeted this advice. In desperation, Marsha bent all of her attention on trying to figure out what they were thinking – or, as much attention as she could spare from trying to drive through the fog. It wasn’t enough. Their minds were like two identically blank walls.

  “Well, he’d be around a lot more if he lived with us,” Frank said at last.

  “He could maybe even drive us to school some mornings,” Jesse pointed out. “You’d like that. Wouldn’t you, Mom?”

  Through the fog, Marsha saw the signal light in front of them turn red. She slowed to a stop. They were only a block from the school now. She had only a few more minutes in which to make her point. “Haven’t you guys been listening to a thing I’ve said? I just got through saying that I don’t want you to – ”

  “It’s late. We’d better get out here.” Frank opened his door and reached for his backpack. “That way you can turn at the light, instead of having to go all the way around the next block. C’mon, Jess, let’s go. See ya later, Mom. Just... think about it, huh?”

  “What?” Marsha glanced at him, startled. “No. Frank, wait a minute.”

  “No time, Mom. Gotta go.” Jesse brushed a quick kiss on her cheek and then he, too, was climbing out of the van and slamming the door shut behind him. “It’s a great idea, by the way. See ya!”

  “Hey!” Marsha leaned over, ready to roll down the window, but the light had changed. The line of cars behind her began to honk their horns. And the boys were already out of earshot. Swearing under her breath she shifted into gear and pulled away.

  This conversation wasn’t over. No matter what those two might choose to think. Not that she knew, yet, what else she could tell them. She’d always been very big on the idea of teaching by example. But right now, that strategy was of no use at all.

  * * * *

  “So, what’s next Boss? You about ready for lunch?” Ryan asked. Siobhan looked up from her desk, startled to find him leaning over her, his big hands planted firmly on the desk’s surface. They were a lot like his feet, she decided; large and strong looking with long fingers and a light dusting of golden hair. They looked capable and sensitive and...

  She looked away quickly, glancing around the room. He’d taken charge of the post-class clean up today, organizing the other volunteers with such efficiency that Siobhan had decided to devote a couple of minutes to catching up on some of her paperwork. But now, the place was spotless and unexpectedly empty.

  “Has everyone else left already?”

  He grinned suddenly. “Boy, you really do
get caught up in your work, don’t you? They said good-bye, you know. You even answered them.”

  “Oh.” Siobhan felt herself coloring. “Well, I guess the dog—”

  He cut her off with a shake of his head. “It’s raining again. I let them both out for a run on the grass a little while ago, but I don’t think they want out anymore right now.”

  Oh,” she said again. “Well, then yeah, why don’t you go ahead and get lunch.”

  “What about you? Aren’t you eating?”

  “Oh, um, sure. I was just going to fix something here. I don’t want to go out today, what with the rain and all.”

  He smiled. “Yeah, I figured. That’s why I brought my lunch with me today.”

  Belatedly, Siobhan remembered the brown paper bag he’d been carrying that morning. “Oh.”

  “You know you keep saying that, don’t you?” The light from her desk lamp danced in the depths of his eyes as he teased her. “Oh, oh, oh, oh? Wait, let me guess. Led Zepplin, right?”

  “Hmm. Very funny,” she said, allowing herself a tiny smile.”

  His own smile gleamed brighter. “That’s better. Now, come on, you’ve been working all morning. Take a break.”

  Ryan watched her as she ate her salad; methodically forking up bits of tuna, spinach, walnuts and raisins while her mind was so obviously elsewhere that he didn’t even have to hide his interest. Just as well, because that was getting harder to do. He’d learned a lot about her in the last week. But the more he learned, the more he realized how much he didn’t know. Yet. And the more deeply he wanted to delve into the mystery of her.

  A faint warning rang in his mind. Was he getting a little too obsessed here? He’d been down that road before, and he’d paid the price for his foolishness. In fact, he was paying for it still; in the form of one busted leg that just wouldn’t heal right.

  Last September he’d let himself get too caught up in the excitement, the tactics and the chase. He’d gotten carried away, gotten careless. And almost gotten killed. He thought he knew better now than to put himself into another situation where he could not control the outcome. He thought he’d learned never to dive headfirst into anything, anymore.

  There was very little danger of this turning into anything more serious than a brief, bright interlude in an otherwise damp and dismal winter. But all the same, it wouldn’t hurt to take precautions. He should’ve been taking them all along. But for some unknown reason—

  Siobhan looked up just then, their glances colliding. Self-consciousness registered in her face. “Sorry, I guess my mind sort of drifted. Did you say something?”

  He hadn’t, But “What were you thinking about just now?” he asked, deflecting her question with one of his own. “You looked like your mind was a million miles away.”

  For an instant she looked even more flustered. She waved one hand in a vague, dismissive gesture. “Oh, no, not really. But listen, remind me to have you fill out one of the volunteer information forms before you leave today, okay?”

  “Information forms?” He popped the last bite of his pickle into his mouth and began to stuff the wrappers from his lunch back into the bag. “What kind of information are you looking for?”

  “Oh, just standard stuff. You know, name, address, phone number, availability, other interests. I usually get them filled out first thing, but... um, well, you didn’t exactly apply in a conventional manner, so—”

  He couldn’t help himself. His gaze drifted to her lips and lingered there. “Really? It didn’t seem all that unconventional to me. Think we should try it again?”

  Her mouth tightened abruptly. “No. There’s no need for that.”

  Despite her frown, he felt his mood improve. So, she was trying to get some information about him, huh? That sounded promising. He smiled at her. “Sure, I’ll fill out your forms. And while we’re remembering things, don’t forget about my ticket for the dinner.”

  “Right.” She sighed. “How many did you want again?”

  “Just one,” he answered, a little surprised at the question. “Why? how many did you think I wanted?”

  “Oh, I don’t know.” She poked at her salad some more. “I just... well, I guess I just thought you might be bringing a date, that’s all.”

  He leaned back in his chair and pretended to consider the matter. “A date, huh? Yeah. That would be nice. And, to be honest, I was thinking of asking someone if she wanted to go with me, but I don’t know if I should. I’m not exactly sure how she’ll react to the suggestion.”

  “What?” She stopped poking and raised her head to stare at him. “Oh, come on. Are you serious? You’re worried about asking someone for a date? Yeah, like you’re really going to be devastated if you get turned down.”

  Ryan shrugged. “Hell yeah, I will. I’m a sensitive guy. And this woman... you know, she’s kinda been sending some mixed signals. When you’ve only known someone less than a week, well sometimes it’s hard to know where you stand.” He lowered his voice to ask softly, “So? What do you think? Do I take the chance?”

  She looked at him very strangely. Finally she cleared her throat, and looked away. “This woman... I take it she’s someone I know?”

  He smiled again. “Yes, Siobhan. You could say that.”

  She nodded once or twice. “Well, I don’t think you’ve got anything to worry about. I mean, I think she’d be flattered.”

  Flattered, huh? He felt his smile widen into a grin which he tried his best to hide by taking a last sip from his soda. “Well, now, I don’t know why you should feel that way about it, but—”

  “No, I mean it Ryan. I’m sure Erin would love to go to the dinner with you.”

  “Erin?” He stared at her in almost complete consternation. “Who the hell is Erin?”

  She looked surprised. “Well, I just assumed— What do you mean ‘who is Erin’? You know damn well who I’m talking about. You’ve worked with her three times this past week. Who else are we—”

  “The kid who works here? That Erin?” Confusion gave way to outrage. “Jesus Christ. Are you crazy? What the fuck are you thinking? She’s gotta be what? All of eighteen, maybe?”

  “No.” Siobhan shook her head. “No, she’s at least twenty. Actually, I think she’s twenty-one. And anyway, you’re the one who said I knew the woman. Who were you talking about?”

  “Well, who do you think I’m talking about? I’m talking about you, of course!”

  Her face went from pale to red in an instant. “Me? But Ryan, I—”

  He looked at her coldly. “Why the surprise, Siobhan? You have to know I’m attracted to you. Or did you think I went around kissing every woman I came into contact with? You’re one of the more interesting women I’ve met in... several years, I think. Or, at least, you were a lot more interesting when you weren’t acting all coy and trying to fix me up with teenagers.”

  She glared at him. “I’ve never acted coy in my life. I just— well, what are you thinking, huh? You’re telling me Erin’s too young for you? Well, fine. You’re too young for me, too.”

  “Seven years, Siobhan. Stop trying to make out like we’re from different generations. And anyway, even if Erin is twenty-one – which I seriously doubt, by the way – that’d still make her fourteen years younger than I am. Twice the age difference between you and me. And you were all for that a minute ago.”

  “Oh, I was not all for it,” she grimaced. “To be honest, I thought it was incredibly shallow of you. But— and anyway, what makes you think you know how old I am? You’re just guessing about that.”

  “I never make guesses if I don’t have to. I don’t know why you’re so sensitive about the subject, but unless you’ve been lying to the DMV all these years, I know exactly how old you are.”

  “The DMV? You’re saying you had me investigated?”

  Investigated? “Huh! Not hardly.” He shook his head, disgusted by the absurdity of the idea. An investigation would have taken a lot more time and turned up a lot more information th
an he’d thought necessary. But how the hell had they gotten on this subject, anyway? And what was she afraid he’d find? Whatever it was, he hadn’t found it. Not yet, anyway. He shrugged. “I just checked a few records. It’s not that big a deal.”

  “The hell it’s not. It’s an invasion of privacy. I could have you sued. How dare you check up on me? What gave you the right to do something like that?”

  He was quiet for a moment. “Look, I’m sorry if it upsets you. It was just... well, after I’d stuck my foot in my mouth like I did last week – you know, asking you about having kids? I just figured... well, I didn’t want to say anything else that might hurt you. That’s all.”

  She looked away, and he was startled by the bitter smile on her face. “Why does everybody do that?”

  “Do what?”

  She turned back to face him, an expression of cool disdain in her distant blue eyes. “It’s so unbelievably arrogant. Do you really think if you don’t talk about it, then I’m not gonna remember that my daughters are dead?”

  “No, it’s not—”

  “Oh, yeah, and there’s the look. Like everyone’s so afraid of what I might do. What are you afraid of, Ryan?” She cocked her head to the side. “You think I might try to kill myself so that I can be with them? That’s what you thought that first night, isn’t it – on the beach? Or are you just afraid I might cry? You’re telling me a big, strong man like you can’t handle a few tears? You gonna run away if I start to lose it now? You know, maybe you should reconsider dating Erin. ‘Cause, now that I think of it, she’s probably way more your speed anyway. Young. Uncomplicated. Nothing in her past for you to check into. No trauma. No pain. No reason for her to start crying when you least expect it.”

  “Hey. I wasn’t running anywhere this morning, was I?” he reminded her, none too gently, crossing his arms and returning her cool stare with one of his own. “When you found those toys on your porch? And believe me, sweetheart, you weren’t looking all that happy then.”