Dream Under the Hill (Oberon Book 8)

by P. G. Forte

  Gregg moved around the darkened room, his voice musical, hypnotic, soothing. “We are not going to focus on how our goal is to be achieved” he cautioned, again and again. “That is not within our ken. It’s not our business. Not ours to determine. We’ll leave all the details, all the ways and the means, the ins and outs, for the universe to decide. We give up all thoughts of control. We give up all our beliefs regarding what is good or bad, what is right or wrong, just or unjust. We need do nothing but close our eyes. Clear our minds of all thoughts... all thoughts. And just... concentrate on raising our vibrations to the highest level we can achieve... .”

  Liam could barely keep from squirming. The energy in the room was too bright, too intense, it made him dizzy. And even despite his conviction that Nick could not be hurt by whatever Gregg was attempting tonight, he still had a big problem with allowing his energy to be used as a part of such an effort.

  It’s not right. It’s not what I want. But, it’s so awfully hard to resist...

  His empathic abilities were a liability to him in a situation like this, as everyone’s emotions became his own; as he felt his identity, his sense of self, diminish.

  Reluctantly, Liam was forced to reassess his opinion of Gregg. He still didn’t think the man possessed any psychic abilities worth speaking of, and certainly he wasn’t an empath. On the other hand, he wasn’t a total fake, either. It seemed Gregg had a real talent for recognizing energy in others, for nursing it, channeling it, for bending it to his own ends. He was like a vampire, draining the life force from everyone around him. Using them. Living off the power he extracted from them.

  “Surrender,” Gregg whispered, and, for the life of him, Liam couldn’t tell if there were actual words he was hearing, or if the other man’s thoughts were now echoing inside his head.

  The energy in the room undulated to the music, to the sonorous, synchronized breaths of those around him, to the spell Gregg was weaving about them all. Liam felt the tug at his solar plexus intensify. No!

  He forced his eyes open again. He needed to find a touchstone – now! Something steady. Stable. Solid. Something he could use to ground himself. Something like... her.

  Yes. The girl in the front of the room. She was just what he needed. How does she do it? Liam could tell just by looking at her that she was oblivious to the energy storm that battered at his mind and held the rest of Gregg’s audience in its sway. He envied her oblivion.

  It wasn’t the music she was listening to that was distracting her, either. In fact, she seemed to have removed her earphones – probably a smart move, all things considered. But, just the same, he could sense it was nothing external that kept her free of Gregg’s enchantment. Maybe it was some quality within her, some hidden strength, some unique clarity of vision. Or maybe it spoke of some inner lack; the loss of dreams, or hope, or innocence.

  Whatever it was, Liam sensed that he could use it to his advantage. He closed his eyes again, focused all his attention on her, and shut out everything else.

  The room disappeared. The world disappeared. Only her image remained. Bright as flame. Cold as ice. Hard as adamant.

  And, suddenly, Liam He found he could breathe again. He found he could think again. The agony receded.

  Liam sighed in relief as he studied his savior with grateful eyes. He still had no idea who the girl was, or what she was doing here. But, he would find out—he would definitely find out. If he was going to spend any amount of time in this hellhole, the first item on his agenda would be to cultivate her acquaintance.

  * * *

  “So, here’s the question I’ve been asking myself: What would someone like you be doing in a place like this?”

  The voice was unfamiliar, but omigod, Cara felt herself start in surprise. She’d never dreamed that a voice could be quite so sexy. Steeling herself to show no emotion, she glanced up from the coffee urn she was tending. “Why shouldn’t I be here?” she asked, gazing suspiciously at her questioner – the same guy who’d busted her earlier for listening to her tunes. Great. What does he want now? Her stomach flipped nervously as she thought of all the trouble he could get her into.

  Cobalt blue eyes – several shades deeper than Gregg’s but no less mesmerizing – studied her for a moment, and then he shrugged and looked away. “Because. You’re not the type. That’s why.”

  Oh, there’s a type? The words were on her tongue, ready to speak, but just as she was about to, his eyes met hers once more. His lips curled in a faint, ironic smile and she knew she was caught. He was right. There was a type. Lunatic crazies. And, the look in his eyes said he knew she’d rather drill holes through her head than ever be mistaken for one of them.

  Not that she’d ever say that, especially not now, while she was surrounded by the freaks. Still, she could not keep from grimacing just a little as she turned her attention back to the coffee. Not answering him. Filling the cup in her hand, and then passing it off to the first crazy in line. Hoping that, if she just ignored him long enough, he’d get a clue and leave her alone.

  It didn’t take her long to realize she was once again shit out of luck, because apparently, the stranger couldn’t take a hint. He made no move to go away.

  Normally, she would have counted that as a good thing. He was, far and away, the best thing she’d seen since she’d been here. She sighed as she thought about that—about how very far from normal her life had become. Because now, cute as this guy was, he was not worth the pain he’d cause her if Gregg decided she’d done something to encourage his interest. She resisted the urge to take another look at him. And, really, what was the point of it? She’d already gotten an eyeful, hadn’t she?

  He was tall. That hadn’t been as noticeable when he was seated, but now, even slouched as he was, with his arms crossed and one hip propped against the refreshment table, she’d had to look up a long way to meet his eyes. He had spiky, dark hair, begging to be ruffled. And the way the thin, brown pullover he was wearing seemed to mold itself to his chest and arms and shoulders suggested it was covering up enough muscle for a football team.

  With that much muscle, he could protect me from Gregg. She pushed the thought away. That was stupid, wasn’t it? She didn’t need protection. She could handle Gregg; he needed her, after all, to run his church, to fix his meals, to sleep with, not to mention all the countless other things, little and big, she did for him. As long as she didn’t do anything too stupid, she’d be okay.

  She reached for another cup. “If you’re waiting for coffee, you better get in line.”

  “I don’t want coffee,” the stranger answered. “And what I’m waiting for is for you to answer my question.”

  She blew out an impatient breath. “What am I doing here, you mean? Well, c’mon, what does it look like?”

  “I meant in general,” he answered, dryly.

  Yeah, yeah, she knew what he meant. But Gregg had warned her not to speak of their relationship with any of the outsiders. She poured out another cup and placed it on the table in front of him, then went back to serving the rest of the crowd.

  He hesitated for an instant, and then he picked up the cup and took a sip. “Do you come here often?”

  “Every day,” she replied, almost grinding her teeth in frustration. Shit. She’d been hoping he’d take his cup down to the other end of the table, where the cream and sugar waited. Just her dumb luck he drank it black.

  “Every day?”

  She passed out two more cups and then turned to face him. “Yes, every day. I live here. Okay?”

  * * *

  “You live here?” Liam tried hard not to gape. Was that a joke? She looked dead serious about it, that was for certain. He nodded. “Well, good. That’s…good.” And it was good. Good for him, anyway. If he was successful in infiltrating the place, it was nice to know that he could count on her being here on a regular basis. That was going to make getting through these meetings a whole lot easier. But it still made no sense.

  He looked at her again, ta
king in fiery brown eyes and the determined set of her chin. If she was here seeking enlightenment, then he was the next Dalai Lama. She must be younger than he first thought her – the daughter of one of the other members, perhaps; although it was the first he’d heard about TLV accepting families with kids into the inner circle.

  Maybe it was something new? And, if that was the case, Nick Greco had good cause to be worried – Liam couldn’t wait to see the old guy’s reaction when he broke that newsflash to him.

  “Yeah, it’s real good,” the girl continued. “But I’m kinda busy right now, and I don’t have time to talk. So, if you want the full four-one-one, on what makes this place so great, you’ll hafta talk to Gregg."

  “Talk to me about what, pet?” a soft voice inquired. Liam felt his stomach roil. He turned to find Gregg, with Lauren beside him, gazing quizzically at the girl.

  Red stained the girl’s cheeks and, for a moment, she looked flustered, almost frightened. “He asked about living here,” she blurted. “I thought you should be the one to talk about that.”

  Even though it wasn’t exactly true, Liam was grateful for the opening.

  Gregg arched an eyebrow, turned to him, pinned him with eyes like blue snow—pale and cold, almost blinding in their intensity. “Is that so?”

  “Yes.” Liam steeled himself as he felt the too familiar pulling sensation in his solar plexus. It took an effort of will to allow the invasion to continue, to resist the urge to throw up barriers against it.

  Lauren beamed approvingly. “See, Gregg? I told you he was serious.”

  Gregg continued to probe Liam’s energy for a moment longer, his gaze speculative, and Liam found himself focusing on the girl again. It was less of a help this time. Her face was composed, her expression guarded, but anxiety spiked within her, and Liam was already anxious enough for them both.

  He felt himself frowning. What’s she so worried about? But, even as the thought surfaced in his mind, he pushed it back down. He couldn’t be bothered with her problems right now. He had enough of his own.

  Finally, he felt Gregg withdraw—and then it was his own overwhelming relief that Liam had to quell. It was too soon for relief. Much too soon.

  “Gregg?” Lauren prompted. Still looking for praise, Liam thought angrily. Still looking for validation. For Gregg to acknowledge that she’d done well, that she’d brought him something he desired. Me. Liam’s gut twisted. Bile rose in his throat. She brought him me.

  Gregg smiled and nodded slowly. “Yes. It could be. You might be right.”

  Chapter Nine

  Lowly people you save, O Lord,

  But haughty eyes you bring low;

  For who is God except You, O Lord?

  Offertory Prayer

  For the Friday after the Fourth Sunday in Lent

  “What do you mean you can’t tutor me next week?” Cara demanded on Friday afternoon. She stared at Seth, willing him to change his mind. Praying she had merely heard him wrong. “You have to, Seth. You promised.”

  “C’mon, Cara, cut it out,” Seth groaned as he leaned back in his chair and glanced around the room. Cara followed his gaze and felt a pang of envy. It must be nice to have a crib like this. It was a whole apartment, really. Seth had his very own place, above his parents’ garage, and, he didn’t have to share it with anyone. He made his own rules. He did whatever he wanted to do.

  Of course, she had a whole house where she made most of the rules, but it wasn’t the same. And, as for doing what she wanted–

  “It’s not that big a deal,” Seth continued. “Really. And it’s only for a week, two at the most.”

  “Two?” Cara turned back to find him watching her, calm as could be, like he hadn’t just dropped a bomb on her head. “Did you say two weeks? Se-eth!”

  Seth grimaced. “Look, I mean it. Don’t start, okay?” He rested his elbows on his knees, leaned forward and stared at her earnestly. “I can’t do it, next week, Cara. That’s all. I’m gonna be putting in a lot of extra hours at the Nature Center while Siobhan’s away, and…well, I’ve got my own work to do, too, you know. But we’ve got Spring Break coming up pretty soon, anyway. And after that–”

  “But what about me? What am I supposed to do?”

  “You’ll be okay,” Seth insisted. “You don’t have any more tests scheduled until after the break, right? And like I keep telling you, it’s not that hard. You can do it.”

  “I can’t. I need help. Why don’t you get that? Sure, it’s easy for you. But, you don’t know what it’s like for me. How hard I have to work, what I have to go through, or, or... anything I have to do. You don’t know shit about me, Seth!”

  “Oh, I don’t, huh?” Amusement gleamed suddenly in Seth’s brown eyes. He leaned back in his chair again, and smiled at her. It was the kind of smile that always used to make Cara melt. But not anymore. She was over him now. She felt herself scowling. She cast a furtive glance at Seth’s best friend, Ray, over on the other side of the room, headphones on, supposedly at work on Seth’s computer, supposedly not paying any attention to them or their conversation. Yeah, right. As if!

  She turned her scowl back on Seth. “No. You don’t.” She didn’t need this crap, damn it. She was paying him to help her. Shouldn’t that buy her a little respect, at least? If Seth made any stupid, half-assed remarks about her, about them…well, she’d throw something at him. She really would. Just because you fucked someone a couple of times, that didn’t mean you knew anything about them. And, if he said it did, if he tried to make a joke about how well he knew her, and Ray laughed – she’d kill them both, that’s all. The bastards.

  But Seth just shook his head. “You’re wrong. I know you well enough to know that you’re smarter than you think you are. A lot smarter.”

  Cara eyed him suspiciously, surprised at how serious he sounded; like he really meant it. Not that it was true, of course. She angled her chin. “Yeah? So, if I’m so smart, how come I’m always getting lousy grades?”

  Seth shrugged. “Because you’re also stubborn as shit. Which I totally understand, because I’m the same way, sometimes. But, in your case, it’s stupid, ‘cause you’re all the time using it to prove that you’re dumb.”

  “Maybe I am dumb,” she countered. “Maybe you’re just saying I’m not so I’ll believe you, and not bother you all the time to help me.”

  Seth grinned. “Yeah, and if you really were dumb, that might work; cause you’d be too stupid to figure it out. So, I guess you just proved you’re not, didn’t you? Besides,” he shrugged. “Who says you’re bothering me? If I didn’t want to help you, I’d tell you, right?”

  “I gotta go,” Cara muttered, blinking back tears as she gathered her things together. Shit. Why did he always do this to her? He didn’t love her. She knew he didn’t love her. But that was always so hard to remember when he acted so nice.

  She heard Seth sigh. “Look, call me if you’re having trouble, okay? Will you do that?”

  She nodded, but she wouldn’t meet his eyes. She didn’t know what she would see there – pity, concern, maybe a little guilt – and she didn’t want to know. She liked it so much better when he acted like a jerk. It made it easier to be around him.

  But, that was the whole problem with Seth, wasn’t it? He never made anything easy for her. Ever.

  “Cara…c’mon.” His voice was soft, compelling. Her name on his lips was an order to look at him, a plea.

  She gritted her teeth and frowned. “What now?” she snarled. Their eyes locked and held. Her breath caught.

  Seth shrugged, and looked away. “Nothing. I’ll see you in a couple of weeks.”

  “Right,” Cara said as she fled the room. “See ya.”

  * * *

  Seth shook his head as he watched Cara go. He didn’t know if she believed him, or not. But he meant what he said. She really wasn’t as dumb as she tried to make everyone think she was. And he didn’t mind helping her. She was actually kind of fun to spend time with, as a matter of fa
ct. It was weird, and he didn’t suppose he could ever tell her, but he liked her so much more now that she wasn’t all the time trying to get him to fuck her.

  “Dawg, what did I say?” Ray tossed the headphones on the desk as he turned away from the computer. He nodded toward the door, and smirked. “I don’t even know why you’ve got me wasting my time on this shit. You so could have her.”

  Seth frowned as he bit back the retort he wanted to make. “Not really,” he said, with another shrug. He thought about telling his friend the truth. That he didn’t want Cara – not that way. Not anymore. But there was nothing he could say to make Ray understand how it was; nothing that wouldn’t make it sound like there was something wrong with him. Or wrong with Cara.

  Instead, he changed the subject. He nodded at the computer. “Speaking of wasting time, you find anything, yet?”

  Ray smiled. A smug, triumphant grin that raised Seth’s hopes and set his pulse to racing. “Fuck, yeah, bro. Come and see.”

  * * *

  Liam sat on his barstool and stared at his beer while he waited for Nick to absorb all the information he’d been given. He’d taken the news that Lauren might be looking to off him better than Liam had expected; he just rolled his eyes, shook his head, he even smiled, a little. “Yeah,” he sighed, “that’s Lauren for you.”

  But, the news Liam had picked up at last night’s meeting? Well, that was a different story...

  “Family Day? What the hell does that mean?” Nick had demanded, not smiling at all.

  Liam shrugged. “Just what it sounds like. It’s an open house, as far as I can tell. The day before Easter. People are free to bring their families – their spouses, siblings, parents... ”