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Hara's Legacy

Page 1

by Bianca D'Arc




  Dedication

  To my family, for believing in me when I wanted to change careers. I couldn’t have done any of this without your support.

  And special thanks to my editor, Jess, for being a cheerleader when I had doubts.

  Chapter One

  Caleb O’Hara had the gift of precognition. Even so, he wasn’t able to do much of anything when the cataclysm came, except move his wife and family to higher ground well before the planet-altering event. He couldn’t help the rest of humanity as the Earth was bombarded by huge crystal shards. It was a disaster that would forever change the Earth’s resonances and doom most of the human population. The attack had come from space a little more than four and a half years ago. Although Earth’s best observatories had seen it coming, there was nothing they could do to stop it either.

  But the aliens didn’t see it as an attack. They saw it as cleansing the planet of its rodent population. That some of those rodents happened to be descended from the alien’s early exploration team was a conundrum. They hadn’t known humans would be fertile with their own kind and many generations had passed between exploration and the bombardment, with their alien DNA mixing with the native human population in surprising ways.

  Once they discovered humans with traces of their own DNA, the aliens looked on the half-breeds as an interesting experiment. Unsure how to proceed at first, they left the survivors of the cataclysm alone for the most part. The aliens built new cities in the prime coastal areas once the tsunamis subsided. They set up colonies on every continent of the newly claimed planet, and monitored what went on up in the mountainous regions where the few survivors of humanity lived, testing subjects according to their whims.

  Those left in the desolate places were sturdy, resourceful, cunning and powerful. The mix of human and alien DNA had caused unexpected changes in their brain patterns and some of those half-breeds were more than a match for the aliens.

  Half-breeds, or just Breeds, as the aliens called them, were the only potential danger on this new colony world, and the colonial governors wanted them kept under control. Some wanted them killed outright, but they were hard to catch, and there were advantages to studying them. They held clues to the aliens’ distant past in their very DNA and the Council decided such information was worth looking into.

  Caleb hadn’t known any of this when he packed up his wife, brothers and possessions, and moved to the high wilderness of what used to be the Canadian Rockies a little more than five years ago. It was called the Waste now, and small enclaves of survivors dotted the area. Most were hermits, trappers and native peoples, mostly men, and pretty much all of them shared one common trait—they were all psychically gifted in some way.

  It was freaky, really, how many telepaths, precogs, empaths, telekinetics, and others had survived the cataclysm by hiding in the mountains of the Waste. A few banded together to form small villages. From time to time, the humans saw evidence of the aliens, but they never made contact, only flew or hovered above in their shiny, impervious machines.

  Caleb and his brothers shared a small ranch. Caleb’s gift allowed them a precious few months to set up their home and gather all kinds of supplies and books on everything from medicine to mechanics. They spent every last dime they had to set up underground tanks and apparatus to brew the biodiesel on which they ran their generators and made their home as self-sufficient as possible.

  They were well hidden in a secure valley, and their livestock and crops provided plentiful food. They had enough to barter with the nearby village for equipment and things they couldn’t grow. The villagers, in turn, had made a deal with the O’Haras. The village militia, such as it was, would protect them from raiders, as long as they supplied food to the village. Since the village was made up of men who knew machines, warfare and technical things, not farmers or ranchers, it was a good trade. There were few women, and all were claimed.

  It had gotten so bad that most women were now partnered with two or more men. Although before the cataclysm, many women had psychic gifts, they either hadn’t moved fast enough or hadn’t been able to survive the harsh conditions in the mountainous regions. As a result, men outnumbered women in the Waste by about three to one. It was a difficult situation, to say the least.

  The O’Hara brothers kept Caleb’s pretty young wife, Jane, under their protection. She stayed hidden in the house when men from the village came to trade. It was the safest thing for all concerned. Men had been killed for their women. Caleb swore he would keep Jane safe, no matter what.

  He’d known Jane all her life. All the O’Hara boys had protected and loved Jane as a child. As youngsters, the boys hadn’t quite realized the power of Jane’s empathic gift, but she always knew when one of them was hurting or unhappy, or just needed a friend. She was a part of their lives from the time she was just toddling around and they loved her, each in their own way. She loved them too, but it was Caleb she’d married. He was the eldest, the protector. And it was his precognitive gift that had saved them all.

  She would do anything for him and he knew it. If a stray desire crossed his mind, moments later she would be fulfilling it. She was that open and receptive to him, and he loved every minute of it, and every inch of her.

  He loved her sassy mouth and the way she would take all of him down her throat. He loved it when she purred, the vibration of her vocal chords causing chaos in his body. And he loved the way she would stroke him, not just his cock, but his chest and arms and face, when she wanted to comfort him. She could read him so easily, as if they were perfectly attuned to each other.

  But he knew she could read his brothers just as easily, and it had bothered him at first. She told him what they were feeling in an effort to help settle family disputes. He knew the other two men were feeling a level of sexual frustration that was almost unbearable and that they envied him for having Jane. They had perhaps always been jealous, but the shortage of women was making it doubly hard.

  Jane didn’t come right out and say these things to him when he asked her to read his brothers, but her blushes and vague replies said all he needed to hear.

  “Justin is mad as a hornet about something.” Caleb slapped his work gloves together to rid them of the perpetual dust. He laid his hat aside and took off his jacket as he stomped inside the big kitchen, greeting his wife with a smacking kiss.

  Jane put her coat on and picked up a wire basket. “I have to get the eggs anyway, maybe I’ll try to see what’s up with him.”

  Caleb stayed her with a hand on her arm. “He’s in a foul temper, Janie. Don’t let him upset you.”

  She patted his hand, then reached for the doorknob. “I won’t. But, Caleb, he needs a friend.”

  Caleb muttered as he watched her traipse down the path toward the chicken coop and nearby barn where Justin kept his Harley.

  “What he needs is a woman,” Caleb growled, knowing Jane couldn’t hear him, trying hard not to let guilt flood his mind. Jane would be back like a shot then, and he would have to explain why he felt guilty about being the only brother with a wife.

  He’d tried desperately to hide the guilt caused by his belief that he’d stolen Jane out from under his brother’s noses. He’d always known his youngest brother, Mick, was sweet on her, but he’d been away in grad school. Of course, Caleb also suspected the middle brother, Justin, would have courted her too, had he been home at the time her daddy died. Caleb felt like a heel. He was supposed to protect his younger brothers, not cheat them out of the best woman in the world.

  At the time, he’d figured they would find other great women, eventually. Now though, with the shortage of women, the prospects were grim, and Caleb felt worse each day and each night he spent in Jane’s loving arms.

  Caleb watched her through the kitchen
window, but staggered as he was hit by a vision. It clouded his senses in a way he hadn’t felt in years. At least not this strongly. Not since the dire revelation of the alien invasion had he been gripped so tightly by his gift. He slumped into one of the hard wooden chairs, letting the vision take him where it would. Surrendering to it, he feared what he might see, but resolved to use his gift to protect his familythe most important thing in his life.

  Jane collected eggs and set the basket down on a shelf where it would be safe while she went to find Justin. He was really touchy lately and always refused her offers of a friendly ear. Still, if she got close enough to him, she could read his emotions and at least give Caleb some clue as to what might be wrong. Caleb was the problem solver of the family, but he needed something to go on before he could put his quick mind to work to find a solution. Jane’s empathic powers had provided those much needed clues in the past and she didn’t mind helping him in this small way if it meant she could help the other men as well. She loved them all and wanted them to be happy.

  Justin was the rebel son. Two years younger than Caleb, he’d been a hell raiser back in the old days. He had luscious, chocolate brown hair he kept military short, wicked tattoos and a sleek, black Harley Davidson motorcycle he worked on in his spare time. That beauty purred like a mountain cat and seemed to be the love of his life. Justin was quiet now, quieter than he’d been before the cataclysm. His dark eyes watched everything, and he seldom smiled. Jane could feel the turmoil he kept hidden from everyone but her, but lately he rejected every overture of friendship she made, preferring to deal with his dark feelings on his own.

  Justin was a telekinetic of amazing strength. He had once used his power to save his brother’s life when a piece of farm equipment threatened to crush him. From across the field they were working back in Montana, Justin saw the axle break and tons of metal list, collapsing on Caleb. Justin’s hand shot out to direct his power as he ran across the field, keeping the heavy object from descending fully while Mick and some of the workers pulled Caleb to safety. It had been a magnificent rescue, but it had let the cat out of the bag as far as Justin’s gift was concerned. He’d taken his bike and hit the road a week later, not to be seen for the next five years.

  He’d kept in touch, calling his brothers each week to check in, and when Caleb told him to come home, he’d done so without question. He’d come home only to help pack up and move to the Waste. If he’d been taciturn before, now he was downright solemn. He never talked about his five years away, but he had picked up a huge two-headed dragon tattoo across his chest as a memento.

  Jane saw it once in a while when the temperature grew warm enough for the men to strip off their shirts as they worked. And once, she’d practically crashed into Justin as he walked out of the bathroom after a shower. She couldn’t help but stare at the masterful image etched into his skin and fought the odd desire to touch his chest and trace the powerful lines.

  Justin was telepathic as well as telekinetic. All the brothers had some telepathic ability, and he’d probably picked up on her half-formed desires. Since that day, he’d been careful to be fully clothed whenever he had a chance of running into her.

  Jane knew Justin usually hid in the big stall he’d arranged to house his Harley and the various tools he needed to keep it in prime condition. It was about the size of one of the large birthing stalls in the barn, but unlike the rest of the building, it was spotless, with nary a sliver of hay in sight. The concrete was oil-stained, but there were good lights in there so Justin could easily see into the engine of his beloved machine. There was also a huge stack of spare parts and fluids he’d managed to stockpile that would ensure the machine functioned well for the next twenty years at least. Caleb’s precognition had allowed them time to stock up on all sorts of things that were unavailable or hard to get now.

  Jane approached slowly, seeing light through the partially closed door. Justin had made this small room his personal retreat. There was a space heater, a comfy chair, and a small cooler with the bottled beer she’d learned how to brew for her men. They’d loved that little surprise, and a smile dawned as she thought of their reaction when she’d served up the first batch a few months ago.

  The door was ajar just a few inches and she approached cautiously. Justin’s temper was unpredictable, though she knew he would never hurt her. Still, she didn’t want to alienate him. She hated when he turned away from her. Only Caleb could console her when Justin shut her out and of course, then Caleb would have words with Justin for hurting her tender feelings and only make the situation worse. If at all possible, she wanted to come out of this encounter with nothing more than the information Caleb needed, and no overwhelming emotions that would cause further strife between the brothers.

  She edged forward into the small patch of light that spilled into the dark barn. “Justin?” she asked tentatively, not wanting to startle him. His reactions were lightning-quick and she’d learned not to sneak up on him unless she wanted to risk bodily injury.

  “Go away, Jane.”

  The words held anger and she heard a frantic sort of rustling as she pushed the door wider to peer inside. It was obvious what she had interrupted and she felt her cheeks flame. Justin’s magnificent tattooed chest was bare, his fly was open, and one hand was barely covering his thick erection.

  She was caught, like a deer in headlights, her mouth forming a perfect “O” of surprise that only made things worse.

  “I’m sorry,” she said quickly, feeling waves of his anger, desire and turmoil that literally took her knees out from under her.

  Justin saw her begin to crumple and moved to catch her.

  “Dammit, Jane,” he growled, catching her in his arms. He brought her into the room and placed her on the overstuffed chair. He left her there while he tucked himself in and forced the zipper up. It hurt like hell and when she gasped, he looked up to see her wide eyes watching him. He nearly came right then and there.

  “Fuck!”

  “Justin.” She sounded almost afraid of him. “I’m sorry. I just…got overwhelmed by your anger.” Her sympathetic eyes made him squirm. “I’m so sorry.”

  He knew he had to get himself under control or risk hurting her more. Her damned empathic senses were too closely attuned to the O’Hara boys. She’d always been able to read him like a book and he knew his anger and turmoil could hurt her.

  “No, I’m the one who’s sorry.” He turned his back while shrugging into his shirt, hoping the tails would hide his hard-on, though there was no way to ease it while she was there. He was gathering calm, trying to smooth out the jagged emotions riding him while she recovered from the shock, but his deep breaths just brought home her warm, feminine scent and it was hard. And he remained hard.

  “Jane, are you okay to go back to the house yet? I need a few minutes here.”

  He heard her stand. He thought he felt a disturbance in the air, as if she reached out to touch his back, but stopped before she made contact. He was relieved she didn’t. If she touched him, she would feel everything he was feeling multiplied ten-fold and he didn’t want to subject her to that.

  “We need to talk about this, Jus. I want to help you.” Her soft voice almost unmanned him.

  “Janie, for God’s sake, please just go.”

  “No.”

  He was so startled, he turned to face her, the muscles in his jaw jumping with tension.

  “But I’m going to wait outside while you…do what you have to do. After, we will talk. I care too much about you to let you continue as you’ve been. Something’s eating you and I’m half afraid it’s me. I don’t want to cause you pain, Justin. I’ll leave if I have to. I want you to be happy. I don’t want you to hate me.”

  “Sweetheart, I don’t hate you. Far from it.” The sight of tears in her beautiful brown eyes brought him under control and he was able to offer compassion. Now that was an emotion only she had ever been able to spark in his warrior’s soul.

  “But I’m making you
unhappy. I can feel it.”

  He reached out tentatively, hesitating before he made contact. He knew the only way to convince her was to let her feel what he was feeling at this moment. He couldn’t let her leave. Not only would Caleb kill him, he would kill himself if any harm befell her. She needed his reassurance now, not his anger or his lust, though God knew he wanted her and had for most of his adult life. He squashed that thought as he prepared to touch her, concentrating on his care, his compassion and his love. Pure thoughts and emotions that would comfort her, if he could just keep them under control.

  She pressed her cheek into his palm, her eyes flooding again as she absorbed the waves of pure emotion he sent. The tears helped him like nothing else to keep his libido under control as he curved his hand to cradle her head, tunneling his fingers into her soft auburn hair.

  “I care about you, Janie. I don’t want you to leave. I want you to stay here, continue to make Caleb the happiest of men, and drive me and Mick crazy, okay?” As a joke, it wasn’t much, but she smiled anyway. “Besides, who would brew my beer? Mick’s too busy being Doctor Doolittle and I don’t know one end of that contraption you use from another.”

  She smiled at him and broke the contact, reassured. “I know you’re unhappy, Justin. If it’s not me, then what? Caleb and I want to help you in whatever way we can.”

  He stalked to the other side of the Harley, watching as she perched on the arm of his overstuffed easy chair. “So Caleb sent you down here to see what I was feeling, only you got more than you bargained for, eh?” He could almost laugh at the situation, if he wasn’t feeling so raw at the moment.

  “We love you, Justin. We want to help you. Come on, tell me what’s really wrong. I don’t like to see you men fighting with each other.”

  He let the silence stretch until she shocked him with her next bold question.

  “Is it sex?”

  “Jane, you don’t want to talk to me about that. Believe me.” His tone was hard, unrelenting, and he hoped she’d get the message and drop the subject.

 

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