Dream Under the Hill (Oberon Book 8)

by P. G. Forte

  Siobhan smiled at her twin. “Nothing, really.” After everything Sinead had done to make this day so perfect, it felt wrong to complain about anything. “It’s just... well, it’s getting late. I know we should be leaving. But–”

  “You’re not worried about the whole ‘wedding night’ thing are you?” Sinead teased.

  Siobhan rolled her eyes. “Funny.”

  “Cause you know, I’m sure the big guy’ll be gentle, if you ask him to.”

  “Well, if not, I can always use your shower gift on him, can’t I?” Siobhan reminded her sister. Only Sinead would think to buy her a tazer for a wedding present. And only Ryan would find it hilariously funny that she had. There were moments, now and again, when Siobhan really did have to wonder whether Ryan had chosen the right twin to marry – but only moments. And never so strongly that she’d felt like taking herself out of the equation. She’d seen him first and he was hers. All hers.

  “I knew you’d find a good use for it,” Sinead said, looking pleased with herself as she pulled out an empty chair, seated herself and propped her feet up alongside Siobhan’s. “But, really, Vonne, what’s up? You’re looking way too pensive for a bride of only a few hours.”

  Siobhan smiled. “It’s just– Everything’s been so perfect, I can’t thank you enough for everything you’ve done. But I feel like I’ve waited so long for this day to get here, you know? How could it be over already?”

  “Over? Well, don’t be silly.” Sinead waved dismissively. “Of course the day’s not over. We’ve got hours to go yet. It’s not even dark. You want something else to eat or drink? We’ve got cellars full of wine, you know. Chenoa left an extra bit of cake in the kitchen. I’ve got a whole tray of hors d’oeuvres in the freezer. Or, wait, I know! How ‘bout we order a truckload of pizzas and have them delivered? That ought to give everyone a second wind.”

  Siobhan laughed. “That’s okay, Cinny. Everything’s perfect, just as it is. I’m just feeling so... so... ” She shook her head, unable to find the right word to describe the way she felt.

  “Happy?” Sinead suggested, grinning widely.

  “Yeah.” Siobhan blinked in surprise. Happy. Jeez. It had been so long, she’d almost forgotten what that was like. “Really happy.”

  “Well, it’s nice to see you two looking so relaxed,” a familiar voice observed

  Siobhan looked up to see Bob watching the two of them. “Come and join us,” she invited, as she smiled at the priest.

  How’s this for irony, she wondered as she removed her feet from the chair beside her, and kicked at Sinead until she’d moved her feet, as well. Bob was her ex-fiancé, and the first boy she’d ever been in love with, way back in high school—even though he’d been dating her sister, at the time. Who would ever have thought the three of us would wind up sitting together, all these years later. Like old friends.

  Bob came around the table and took the seat between them. “Wow. Just like old times, huh?”

  Still reading my mind, Siobhan thought as she shook her head in bemusement. There had been times she’d hated Bob—ten whole years when she wouldn’t speak to him, at all. Times when she was sure Sinead felt the same. And, yet–

  “Old times? Really?” Sinead murmured dryly. “Then I guess you two will be wanting me to leave?”

  Siobhan turned stricken eyes toward her twin. “Oh, Cinny, no.” She reached across Bob to take hold of Sinead’s hand. “Please don’t.”

  Siobhan had always felt guilty at being the cause of the breakup between Bob and Sinead, even though it had been obvious to everyone who knew them that Bob had simply asked out the wrong twin. Obvious to everyone but Sinead, that is.

  But that was her sister for you, Siobhan thought. That’s just the way Sinead was. She’d get hold of an idea and run with it; never stopping to consider if the idea made any sense, or whether she was even running in the right direction. It wasn’t until Sinead had gone to meet Bob dressed up as Siobhan that she learned what his true feelings were.

  Despite what her own feelings had been, at the time, Siobhan would never have suggested the masquerade if she’d known how deeply Sinead would be hurt by the revelation, or how badly she’d react to Bob’s rejection.

  That had been a scary, bad time for all of them. Just thinking about it made her shiver, even now.

  “Are you cold, Vonne?” Sinead asked.

  Siobhan shrugged, unwilling to admit the truth. As the old saying had it, she’d just felt a ghost walking over her grave. “I guess so. A little, maybe.”

  “I’ll run upstairs and get you something to wear over your gown,” Sinead suggested as she got to her feet.

  “You’ll come right back, won’t you?” Siobhan asked. She hated to see Sinead go. It was rare that she got to spend much time with her sister, anymore.

  Sinead smiled. “Of course, I will. I won’t be more than a minute.”

  * * *

  “Be careful what you wish for,” Sinead muttered to herself as she headed upstairs, toward the apartment she shared with Adam. When she’d first returned to Oberon, Sinead had made it her business to mend the feud between Bob and Siobhan. But, she’d never expected to see them so cozy. And she’d really never anticipated that the sight would stir up even the tiniest feelings of jealousy – she was so over all of that.

  Or so she’d thought.

  “What the hell is the matter with me,” she grumbled. But, she knew. It wasn’t really jealousy she was feeling now – it hadn’t been jealousy she’d felt back then, either. It was hurt.

  It was pain at being the last to know. Of learning too late that she’d been played for a fool. It was seeing the pity in her friends’ eyes. God, she’d hated that.

  Even all these years later, she felt a faint queasiness and she had to pause on the landing until the sickness passed...

  At the time, it had seemed to Sinead that everyone around her knew what had occurred between her and Bob. They knew that he’d slept with her, knew that he’d dumped her. They knew that he’d never really wanted her in the first place. She’d been a convenient substitute for her sister. That’s all.

  She couldn’t stand all the whispers and the looks. Couldn’t stand to see her sister so damn happy – while she felt like shit. She couldn’t stand to be around any of their usual crowd, anymore. She wanted something that was just hers, hers alone. Something she wouldn’t have to share with Siobhan. Something completely new and different.

  Different. Yeah, well, she got that, all right. She found a group of friends her sister wouldn’t ever think of joining – if they’d even have her. A group of people who were so very different that... well, she wasn’t always certain they were human. Certainly they claimed to be able to do things that normal humans couldn’t do. Things that normal humans wouldn’t even want to do. Things she’d certainly never had any interest in. Drink blood? No, thanks, she’d pass.

  Still, she’d found them amusing for a while – but only because she didn’t really believe the things they said they did. And only because they seemed to sense the pain she was feeling. They understood the selfish desire for vengeance that she just couldn’t shake.

  She didn’t really want to see Siobhan made unhappy. Not really. But how could her own sister treat her like that? How could Siobhan date Bob, after he’d hurt her so much? Where was her loyalty?

  Sinead’s new friends were all about loyalty. Blind, unflinching, unquestioning loyalty. Loyalty to one man. Their leader. Gregg Gilchrist.

  Sinead could still remember the night she’d learned what he was all about. The night she’d followed them out into the woods, out to the grove where their rituals were performed. Where vows were exchanged and sacrifices made. Where punishments were inflicted on the disloyal.

  She could still recall the terror she’d felt when her presence was detected – when Gregg ordered his followers to fan out through the woods, to catch the intruder. And the even greater terror when she felt his mind call to hers, summoning her forward, leaving her
no choice but to obey...

  Unable to resist his voice, she’d stood on shaky legs. Ready to turn herself over to him, submit to his will, surrender her soul –

  “Jesus, what are you doing?” a voice whispered suddenly from behind her. A hand shot out and grabbed her arm. “Are you crazy? Get the fuck back here.” And then she was hauled back down into hiding. “Are you looking to get yourself raped tonight? Or worse?”

  “N-no,” she stammered, shaking her head as she gulped for air. She clutched at her rescuer, wide eyed, frantic.

  Nick Greco scowled back at her. “Then stay down and keep quiet,” he ordered. He looked furious, as angry as she’d ever seen him. And given she’d already known him for thirteen years, and he’d always had a lousy temper, anyway…that was a lot of mad.

  But it was a reassuring anger, she thought as she clung to his arm and closed her eyes in blessed relief. It was an I’m-on-your-side, they’ll-have-to-go-through-me-first, kind of mad. It promised safety and protection.

  They crouched there in silence for what seemed like a very long time, listening to the others as they crashed about through the underbrush. Gregg’s voice was still in her head—alternately urging and commanding—but without any power now. Nick’s hand in hers kept her grounded and gave her all the strength she needed to resist.

  “All right,” Nick muttered when the searchers had finally passed. “Here’s our chance. Let’s get out of here.”

  Sinead was still trembling, when they finally made it back to the road. “Oh, my God. Did you see that?”

  “Yeah. I saw.” Nick glared at her in disgust. “Nice friends you’re hanging with these days, Cinny. Really great.”

  She shook her head. “They’re not my friends. I just– I didn’t believe all the stories, you know? I had to see for myself.”

  Nick nodded, seemingly satisfied. “Well, now you’ve seen.” He shot her a sharp glance. “You’re gonna keep your distance from them now, right?”

  “Oh, hell, yeah.” Sinead nodded agreement. “Abso-fucking-lutely.” She frowned as a thought suddenly struck her. “What were you doing out here tonight?”

  “Me?” Nick stared at her in surprise, as if the answer were so obvious, the question hadn’t even needed to be asked. “Well, what do you think I was doing, you nit-wit? I was worried about you. You’ve been acting so weird lately, I figured I’d better check things out, see what kind of trouble you were getting yourself into.”

  “Oh.” Sinead ducked her head in an attempt to hide the goofy smile that insisted on crawling over her face. He’d been worried about her? Really? “Well, thanks.”

  Nick shrugged. “De nada. What are friends for, huh? But, look, just... try not to do anything that stupid again. All right? I might not always be around to watch out for you.”

  “I’ll try,” she murmured. But there were a lot of ways of being stupid. She was feeling warm and cared for and happier than she’d felt in weeks. And that was clearly stupid, because she and Nick had been friends for too long. If they were ever going to fall in love, surely it would have happened already? Right now, she didn’t care about love. She was content to be friends. But that didn’t mean they couldn’t be better friends—did it?

  “Come on.” Nick nodded toward his car. “Let’s get you home.”

  Sinead shook her head. “No. I don’t want to go home tonight.”

  Home meant Siobhan and most likely Bob. Home meant too many questions about where she’d been, too much thinking about the mistakes she’d made. It meant being lonely—and there was nothing new or different about that.

  She was still in the mood for something new and different. But different in a good way, this time. Different in a way that was warm and caring. And friendly

  “Oh, yeah?” Nick’s eyebrows rose in surprise as their gazes locked. A spark of interest flashed in his eyes, and then his lips curved in a smile that was warm and eager and very friendly indeed. “And why’s that, all of a sudden? D’you have something better in mind?”

  “Yeah,” she said as she returned his smile, as she slipped her hand in his once again and leaned into his shoulder. “As a matter of fact, I do. Something much better.”

  I learned a lot that night, Sinead thought now, as she continued up the stairs to her apartment. She’d learned about friendship and loyalty. About love and fear and magic.

  About soul death and mind-control. She’d learned more than she’d ever wanted to know about the occult. Life lessons, all of them. Things she had never, ever forgotten.

  * * *

  “Shit, shit, shit,” Cara muttered to herself as she headed east, toward the foothills; her rear view mirror a solid blade of blinding light. How the hell had it gotten so late, so fast? Gregg could be such a jerk when he didn’t get what he wanted, or if he thought she needed to be taught some kind of lesson. He’d be so pissed off if she missed even a little of his stupid service. In all the months they’d been together that was the one rule she’d managed not to break. She’d never come home late. Not once. She glanced at the gift bags on the seat beside her. She just hoped he liked what she got him. If he did, maybe things would still be okay. But, if not–

  “Shit,” she groaned again as all her insides tightened into hard little knots of fear. She had to force herself to take deep breaths. Thinking about what he might decide to do was almost enough to make her turn around, but where would she go? Not back to her father. He’d kicked her out months ago. If she showed up there now, he’d beat her for sure, just like he always used to do, every chance he got. With Gregg, there was still a chance she could talk him out of it.

  He wasn’t so bad, really. Not really. It was just that he liked to scare her. His sense of humor was so jacked up and he had such freaky weird ideas on how to make a point. Like the night they met. She still felt sick when she thought about that; how scared she’d been, how completely terrified...

  The stone had been cold against her back, and the weight of him on top of her was worse even than the scarf around her neck. She squirmed restlessly as he slipped a hand inside her shirt and began to touch her breasts. She didn’t want him poking at her. She didn’t want him feeling her up. She hated having him find out how frightened she’d become, how fear had hardened her nipples into tight little points, and made her heart pound way too fast.

  She’d been close to death a couple of times already tonight. She’d faced fire and smoke and the dizzying flood of adrenaline that made everything too bright, too sharp, too intense – too fucking much! And, now? She just couldn’t take any more. She couldn’t, couldn’t, could not stand it!

  "Stop moving,” he barked so suddenly it made her jump.

  “Pig,” she mumbled between chattering teeth, but she forced herself to lie still. Maybe, if she just did what he told her, he’d grow tired soon and it would all be over. Please, God, please, I just want it over.

  “That’s better,” he murmured in approval as he resumed his explorations. His eyes went dreamy and wide, but then a small frown appeared on his face. He squeezed thoughtfully for a few more minutes and then asked, “So, I guess you’re still a little too young for implants, huh?”

  “Oh,” she gasped in surprise. He might as well have slapped her, the hurt couldn’t have been any worse. Her tits were too small? Jesus fucking Christ. Yeah, okay, she knew that. She wasn’t what anyone wanted—she knew that, too. But that sure never stopped them from using her, did it? “Fuck you,” she spat in fury, then grunted in pain as he wound the scarf a little bit tighter.

  “Now you’re catching on,” he replied, pausing to watch the way her chest heaved, as each breath became a bit more difficult to draw. Flat or not, she guessed he didn’t mind looking. She hated that. Hated that he could just look at her as much and as long as he wanted. That he could touch her all he liked. That she could do nothing at all to stop him.

  “You know,” he told her, smiling ironically, still watching her tits rise and fall. “It’s not me you should be mad at. This is all yo
ur own fault. You’d have saved yourself a world of pain tonight, if you’d just been a little smarter. Didn’t anyone ever tell you not to talk to strangers, little girl?”

  She glared at him again. Wanting to scream, wanting to cry, wanting to scratch out his eyes, pound his face into mush. Wanting to tell him just what he could do with his fucking lectures. But it was already hard to breathe. So she just said nothing. Then he shifted again, and began to unfasten her jeans.

  Oh, no. Oh, no. Oh, no, God, why? She sobbed in despair as he lowered her zipper and slid his hand inside her pants. It wouldn’t be over soon, would it? No matter how hard she prayed? He wasn’t getting tired, he was just getting started. She closed her eyes and waited.

  “I tell you what,” he offered suddenly, taking her by surprise.

  She opened her eyes to gaze warily into his face.

  “You make it really good for me, and I just might let you live. How does that sound?”

  Live? He’d maybe let her live? And just like that, she knew. She was going to die. She was fucking going to die. Tonight. Didn’t that just figure?

  “Well?”

  She tried to shake her head, but he jerked on the scarf again, curtailing her range of motion. “I’m sorry did you say something?” he asked, his voice soft with fake concern. “I couldn’t hear you.”

  Her voice cracked as she struggled to push air past the constriction in her throat. “No, you won’t,” she whispered brokenly. “It doesn’t matter what I do. You’re gonna do what you want and then kill me anyway. Aren’t you?”

  “Am I?” His smile was cold, his eyes were ice. “What do you think?”

  What did she think? Shit. Tears spilled from her eyes now, as she remembered: She thought she was dead, that’s what she thought. She thought she wouldn’t even live ‘til morning. That when it was over, like she’d been praying for, it would really be over.

  But she hadn’t really been in danger, she reminded herself now; scrubbing her face as she steered along the winding roads one-handed. Not really. Not like she thought she was. Gregg had just been trying to scare her, that’s all. To teach her a lesson. The hard way. ‘Cause everything always had to be the hard way with her, didn’t it – that’s what he said.