Raintree

by Linda Howard

  How would she ever be able to explain her feelings for Judah to Dante and Gideon? God help her, how would they react when she told them that Eve was half Ansara?

  Dante could be stern and unforgiving, but he was always logical and usually fair. As with most people born into a position of supreme authority, he had grown up with a sense of entitlement, expecting to make all the decisions for his younger siblings. For the most part Gideon had followed in his big brother’s footsteps until they grew to manhood; then he had become his own person, not always agreeing with Dante and occasionally locking horns with him.

  When Mercy had told them she was pregnant, both Dante and Gideon had demanded the name of Eve’s father. The fact that she had refused to name the man had enraged both her brothers, but in time they had let the subject drop. She knew that they assumed Eve’s father was one of the Ungifted, or maybe a “stray,” as Dante referred to humans who had developed gifts independently but were neither Raintree nor Ansara. Only with Sidonia’s help had Mercy been able to keep Eve’s unusually powerful abilities hidden and the truth of her paternity a secret.

  But this was one secret that couldn’t be hidden for much longer. Once Judah had dealt with Cael, he would try to take Eve.

  No matter how much she loved Judah, she couldn’t give him their child. And there was only one way to stop him.

  But could she kill him?

  After dinner that evening, Judah left the house without any explanation. He chose an isolated area more than a mile from the house and far from any of the guest cottages. Standing alone and insulated from all that was Raintree, he telepathically linked with Claude. He could hear what his cousin heard and see what he saw. He listened as Sidra addressed the assembled council, the highest ranking officers and many of the nobility, all congregated in the great hall at the palace. Through closed-circuit television, her message was carried to every home in Terrebonne.

  “I have seen a child with golden hair and golden eyes. She has been born for her father’s people, to transform the Ansara from darkness into light. Seven thousand years of Ansara and Raintree noble blood runs through her veins.”

  Gasps and grumbles and cries of outrage rose from the audience.

  Judah spoke through Claude. “Do you dare question Sidra’s visions? Do you doubt her love for our people? Has my brother’s madness infected all of you?”

  Nine tenths of those assembled rose to their feet. Their shouts of faith in Sidra and allegiance to Judah completely overshadowed the handful of dissenters.

  Sidra spoke again, her words of wisdom reassuring the Ansara that Judah’s mixed-breed child was unlike any child ever born. “Eve is the child of our ancestors, the seed of a united people. She is more than Ansara, more than Raintree. Our fate is in her hands. Her life is more precious to me than my own.”

  The assembly listened with reverence, and through Claude, Judah sensed their doubts and concerns, but also their acceptance and hope.

  A single request came from numerous Ansara, all wanting to know if, when Judah returned to Terrebonne, he would bring the Princess Eve home to her people.

  “Princess Eve will come to Terrebonne when the time is right for her to take her place as your future Dranira,” Judah replied through Claude.

  When the cheers died down, a lone woman stepped forward and posed one simple question. “What of the child’s mother?” Alexandria Ansara asked. “Are we to believe that Princess Mercy will simply give her daughter to you?”

  A deafening silence fell over the assembly as they waited for Judah’s reply.

  You must answer them, my lord, Claude told Judah.

  As he contemplated his response, Judah felt Sidra’s hand on Claude’s arm and sensed that she wanted to speak to him through his cousin.

  Your fate is tied to hers. Your future is her future, your life, her life.

  If you die, she dies. If she dies, you die.

  Every muscle in Judah’s body tensed, every nerve charged with electrical energy. He understood that if Sidra could have explained further, she would have. Her prophecy was open to interpretation, but Judah knew that she spoke of Mercy, not Eve, and if he and Mercy fought over possession of their child, whichever one of them survived would die a thousand deaths during their lifetime.

  “When the time comes, I will do what must be done,” Judah told his people.

  Sunset colored the evening sky as Mercy searched for Judah. He had left the house shortly after supper and had not returned. While she had been giving Eve her bath, Eve had stopped splashing her array of tub toys in the waist-deep, lukewarm water and grasped Mercy’s hand.

  “It’s Daddy. Something’s wrong. He’s very sad.”

  “Are you talking to your father? Didn’t he tell you not to—”

  “I’m not talking to him,” Eve said. “I promise.”

  “Then how do you know that he’s sad?”

  “I just know.” She placed her hand over her heart. “In here. The way I sometimes just know things. He needs you, Mother. Go to him.”

  So here she was, sent off by her daughter on a quest of compassion. But when she found Judah, would he accept her comfort, or would he turn her away?

  There was no point in wasting time taking useless routes that wouldn’t lead her to Judah. She used all her senses to home in on his location. Once she picked up on his presence, she followed the energy trail left by his powerful aura.

  She found him alone and lost in his own thoughts, sitting on one of several stone boulders in an isolated clearing deep within the woods.

  “Judah?”

  He turned his head and looked at her, but said nothing.

  She took several hesitant steps toward him. “Are you all right?” she asked.

  “Why are you here?”

  “Eve sent me. She’s concerned about you. She said you were sad.”

  “Go back to the house. Tell Eve that I’m fine.”

  “But you’re not. Eve is right, something is wrong, and—”

  Using a psychic thrust, Judah shoved Mercy backward, just enough to warn her off but not knock her down. She staggered for only a second.

  “I get the message,” she told him.

  “Then leave me alone.”

  “Is it Cael? Has something happened? If you’ll tell me, I can help.”

  “Leave me!” Judah shot up off the boulder, hell’s fury in his eyes. “I don’t want you.” As he came toward her, he pinned her to the spot, and she didn’t try to break through the invisible bonds that kept her from moving. “I don’t need you. Damn you, Mercy Raintree!”

  Judah grabbed her shoulders and shook her as frustration and anger and passion drove him hard. She felt what he felt and realized that he hated her for making him care.

  “My poor Judah.”

  He clutched her face between his open palms and ravaged her with a possessive kiss. Swept up by the passion neither of them could deny, Mercy surrendered herself. Heart. Mind. Body.

  And soul.

  FIFTEEN

  Sunday, 11:08 a.m.

  The Summer Solstice

  Eve bounced onto the foot of Mercy’s bed and whispered loudly, “I’ve been up for hours, Mommy. Are you and Daddy going to sleep all day?”

  Mercy’s eyes flew open. Startled by her daughter’s cheerful greeting, she woke from a deep, sated sleep. “Eve?”

  Wiggling around, making her way up the bed to position herself between Mercy and Judah, Eve spoke a bit louder now that she had roused her mother. “Sidonia told me not to disturb you, but I got tired of waiting, so I sneaked up the back stairs when she wasn’t looking.”

  “What the hell?” Judah cracked open one eye and then the other. “Eve?” He shot straight up in bed, exposing his naked chest.

  As Mercy lifted herself into a sitting position, the sheet covering her slipped, and she suddenly remembered that she was as naked as Judah. She grabbed the edge of the sheet and yanked it up to cover her breasts.

  “Hi, Daddy.”

  �
�Hello, Eve.” Judah glanced at Mercy, as if asking her how they were going to handle this rather awkward situation.

  “You’re not going to stay in bed the rest of the day, are you?” Eve looked from one parent to the other.

  “No, we…er…uh…” Mercy stammered. “Why don’t you go to your room or back downstairs with Sidonia, and Daddy and I will—”

  Sidonia’s voice bellowed, “Eve Raintree, I thought I told you not to disturb your mother. Come here right this min—” Sidonia stopped abruptly in the doorway, her eyes round and her mouth agape as she stared at the threesome in Mercy’s bed. “This won’t do,” she muttered. “This just will not do.” She shook her head disapprovingly.

  “Eve, go with Sidonia,” Mercy told her daughter.

  Eve eyed her mother from tousled hair to bare shoulders. “Why aren’t you wearing your gown?” She turned her gaze on Judah. “Daddy, are you naked, too?”

  Judah cleared his throat but couldn’t disguise the tilt of his lips.

  How dare he find this amusing! Mercy glowered at him. He smiled.

  “Come along, child.” Sidonia held out her hand. “It’s already summertime weather, and no doubt your mother got hot last night and removed her gown so she could cool off.” If looks alone could kill, Sidonia’s outraged glower would have zapped Judah. Thank goodness her old nanny didn’t have the ability to shoot psychic bolts.

  Making no move to leave her parents, Eve asked, “Did you get hot, too, Daddy?”

  “Uh, yeah, something like that,” Judah replied.

  “Eve, go with Sidonia,” Mercy said. “Now.”

  Puckering up as if she were on the verge of tears, Eve scooted back down to the foot of the bed, then slid off and onto her feet. “I woke you up because I needed to tell you that something’s going on. I thought you and Daddy would want to know.”

  “Whatever it is, it can wait for a few minutes,” Mercy said.

  When Eve dawdled, her shoulders slumped, her head hung low, Sidonia grabbed her hand and marched her toward the door. Dragging her feet at the threshold, Eve balked. Glancing back over her shoulder, she said, “I’m going. But can I ask Daddy one question first?”

  “What do you want to ask me?” Judah focused on Eve.

  “Well, actually, it’s two questions,” Eve admitted.

  When Sidonia jerked on Eve’s hand, she issued her nanny a stern, warning glare.

  “Ask your questions,” Judah said.

  “Uncle Dante doesn’t have a crown even though he’s a Dranir.” Eve’s eyes sparkled with anticipation. “I was just wondering if you have a crown?”

  What? Huh? Mercy’s mind couldn’t quite comprehend her daughter’s comment and question. “Eve, why would your father have a—”

  “Actually, I just wanted to know if, since I’m a Raintree princess and an Ansara princess, do I get to wear two crowns? Maybe a solid gold crown and another one that’s all sparkly diamonds. Or maybe just one really big crown.”

  Mercy snapped around and stared at Judah, who had gone deadly still. “What’s she talking about?”

  Unclenching his jaw, Judah ignored Mercy and answered his daughter. “I don’t have a crown. But if you want a crown or two crowns or half a dozen, I’ll get them for you.”

  Lifting her shoulders, tilting her chin and smiling like the proverbial cat that ate the canary, Eve turned around and all but pulled a stunned Sidonia out of the room.

  Mercy got out of bed, found her robe lying on the floor, snatched it up and slipped into it hurriedly. Then she confronted Judah, who had gotten up, found his discarded slacks and was in the process of zipping the fly when Mercy headed toward him. She marched up to him and looked him right in the eyes.

  “Why would Eve think you might have a crown, and why would she think she’s an Ansara princess?”

  He shrugged. “Who knows what puts ideas in a child’s head?”

  “Uh-uh, mister. That’s not going to work with me.”

  “I’m starving. What about you? After the workout we had last night…all night—” he tried using that cocky, aren’t-I-sexy? grin on her “—I need to rebuild my strength.”

  Mercy grabbed Judah’s arm. “Answer my question. And so help me, you’d better tell me the truth.”

  He didn’t try to veil his thoughts completely, allowing Mercy to momentarily use her empathic ability.

  What is the truth between us? We have a child we can’t share. A life we can’t share. I have never wanted another woman the way I want you, have never known such pain or such pleasure. If it were within my power to change the way things are, I would. But I cannot betray my people.

  Mercy jerked her hand away, her gaze glued to his face. “You lied to me. You are the Ansara Dranir.”

  “Yes, I am, and Eve is an Ansara princess, heir to the throne. According to our great seer, Sidra Ansara, Eve was born for my people. That’s why I rescinded the ancient decree to kill all mixed-breed children—to protect my daughter.”

  “No! Eve is my daughter. My baby. She’s a Raintree.” Eve’s words echoed inside Mercy’s head. I was born for the Ansara. “Only a few dozen Ansara were left alive after The Battle. Just how many Ansara are there now? Thousands? Hundreds of thousands?”

  “Don’t do this,” Judah told her. “It serves no purpose, and it changes nothing.”

  “My God, how can you say that? The Raintree have believed that the Ansara were scattered over the earth and—no, no!”

  She backed away from him, her eyes bright with fear. “I worried about how my giving birth to a half Ansara child would affect me, but when I saw no visible signs all these years, I assumed I was for the most part unaffected, but now…”

  “You’re wondering how much if any Ansara there might be in you, since you gave birth to the Ansara Dranir’s child. I don’t know, but my guess is none. You seem to have remained totally Raintree.”

  “But it’s possible I was somehow affected and I’m not aware of it. When a Raintree woman takes a human mate, he does not become Raintree, but when a woman gives birth to a Raintree child, she becomes Raintree. It stands to reason that when a woman gives birth to an Ansara child, especially the child of the Dranir, it would somehow change her.”

  Mercy knew that she could no longer keep Eve’s paternity a secret. If she had even suspected that Judah was the Ansara Dranir, she would have gone to Dante and told him the truth years ago. Was it too late now? It couldn’t be coincidence that the Ansara Dranir had come to the sanctuary and saved her from one of his own. One of Cael’s followers had tried to kill her, but Judah had stopped him. Why? Not because he loved her.

  “Cael wants to be Dranir,” Mercy said. “That’s why he intends to kill you. And Eve. He can’t allow your daughter to live, because even if she is half Raintree, she threatens his claim on the throne. My God, it all makes sense now. My child is at the center of an Ansara civil war.”

  “Don’t do anything rash,” Judah said. “I swear to you that keeping Eve safe is my number one priority. I won’t let Cael hurt her.”

  “You’ve brought this evil here to us!” Mercy screamed. “If you’d never come to the sanctuary, if you’d stayed away…”

  “You would be dead,” Judah told her. “Greynell would have killed you.”

  “Why did you stop him from killing me?”

  Judah hesitated, a look of anguish in his cold, gray eyes. “No other Ansara has the right to kill you.”

  Mercy couldn’t breathe. Her pulse pounded in her head, and for a millisecond she thought she might faint. “I understand. Dranir Judah had already claimed me as his kill.”

  Sidonia’s screams echoed up the stairs, down the hall and through the open door to Mercy’s bedroom.

  “Eve!” Mercy cried as she ran past Judah on her way out of the room.

  Judah followed her down the backstairs. When they entered the kitchen, they instantly saw what had frightened Sidonia. Levitating several feet off the floor in the middle of the kitchen, Eve hung in midair, her mou
th open, her little body stiff, and rotating slowly around and around. Her long, willowy hair floated straight up, parting in the back to reveal a glimpse of the blue crescent moon birthmark that branded her an Ansara. Her eyes faded from Raintree green to shimmering yellow-brown, then back to green. Soft, golden light twinkled on each of her fingertips.

  Mercy rushed toward her daughter but couldn’t touch her. A barrier of some kind protected Eve, sealing her off completely from everything around her.

  Judah shoved Mercy out of the way, and he, too, tried to breach the shield around Eve. “It’s impenetrable.”

  “This has never happened to her before,” Mercy said. “Is Cael doing this? Are you doing it?”

  “No, I don’t think this is Cael’s handiwork. And I swear to you that I’m not doing it.” He stared at their child, who was deep in the throes of some unknown type of transformation. “Maybe it has something to do with Sidra’s prophecy.”

  Grabbing Judah’s arm, Mercy demanded, “What about the prophecy?”

  “He’s trying to change her.” Sidonia pointed a bony finger at Judah. “He’s drawing the Raintree out of her. You see the way her eyes are going from green to gold.”

  “Hush, Sidonia.” Mercy looked at Judah, her gaze imploring him.

  “Sidra says that Eve is a child of light, born for the Ansara.” Judah focused completely on Eve. “As her father, I’d die to protect her. And as the Dranir, I am sworn to protect her for the sake of my people’s future.”

  Mercy wasn’t sure what to believe. Was Judah telling her the truth, or at least a half-truth? Or was he lying to her? “We have to do something to stop this.” She tried again to penetrate the force field surrounding Eve but was thrown backward from an electrical charge the shield emitted. “There has to be a way to break the barrier.”