Dream Under the Hill (Oberon Book 8)

by P. G. Forte

  “She won’t die,” he insisted. “She won’t, Sinead. I won’t let anything happen to her. To either of you. I promise.”

  She shook her head. “She’s so tiny, so frightened. My God, can’t you feel how frightened she is? And there’s so little we can do to protect her – almost nothing. There’s nothing I can give her, or do for her. Except this one small thing.”

  He stared at her helplessly, silently, and then nodded; dropping his gaze, half turning away. “Okay, fine. Whatever you say. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything. It’s okay, Sinead, really. It’ll all work out. We’ll just–”

  “Oh, Adam.” She shook her head sadly. “It’s really not okay, you know.”

  His face grew grim. “What do you mean?”

  “You say that now, but, you don’t really mean it. You’ve been lying to me. You’re lying, still. You think you’re going to change my mind. Don’t you?”

  “Sinead–”

  “I know you, Adam – too well, perhaps. I know how you think.” She stared at him bleakly. “I tried to ignore it. I tried to convince myself that you were really okay with this, but... deep inside, I think I’ve always known that you weren’t.”

  “Sinead, please... ”

  “You’re forcing me to choose between you and our child, and I have to choose her. She needs me.”

  Adam glared at her fiercely. “Well, I need you, too. I need you to understand how I feel about this. Victor Stone was a devil. I won’t honor his memory like this. I won’t give my child his name. I won’t allow it.”

  Sinead felt as though her heart would fall to pieces. She felt grief for the hurt he was feeling, for the child he had been. For the wall they were building between them. She felt grief and sorrow. And loss. “Adam. You don’t have a choice.”

  She gazed at him sadly, hating the words she was about to say, but, what else could she do? He was forcing her hand. “I’m the one they’re going to come to when it’s time to fill out the birth certificate,” she reminded him, as gently as she could. “Because I’m the one giving birth to her. Because she’s my child. They’re going to ask me for her name. They’re going to ask me who her father is.”

  “She’s my child, too!”

  “I know,” she agreed, quietly. “And any paternity test you care to take will prove that.”

  “Paternity test? Sinead!”

  “But, by the time that happens, her name will already have been recorded.” She shook her head. “Please don’t fight me, Adam. Please don’t make me tell them that I don’t know who the father is. Because I will. You know I will.”

  Adam stared at her, his expression grim, appalled. Devastated.

  Sinead swallowed hard. “Her name is Victoria. What last name I give her... that’ll depend on you.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Sam had been sitting at his desk, unmoving, for ten whole minutes; staring at the cat who’d plunked itself down amid his papers; watching as it stared back at him. Ten minutes. Eleven. It wasn’t an unblinking, macho, stare-down thing; which was kind of a shame, he’d always been pretty good at those. No, this was more of an I’m-gonna-stay-in-your-face-’til-you-figure-things-out sort of deal. Definitely not normal cat behavior. Which wasn’t a big surprise, since there was nothing normal about this cat in the first place.

  Twelve. Although he knew next to nothing about the subject, at the moment he’d lay odds on Marsha’s suspicions being correct. The damn cat probably was possessed. But why? And, by who? How did one go about finding out about something like that?

  Twelve and a half minutes. The cat’s tail twitched. It rotated one ear. Sam shifted his gaze, arching his eyebrows inquiringly as his stepsons approached. “What’s up guys?” he asked, a little surprised by the uncharacteristically solemn expressions on their faces.

  “We want to talk to you,” Jesse said.

  “There’s something we wanted to ask you about,” Frank clarified.

  He looked at them curiously. “Okay. Why don’t you pull up a couple of chairs and sit down?”

  Two identical head shakes. Two identical murmurs of “No.”

  “All right.” Sam waited.

  “It’s about Mom,” Frank said finally. “We’ve been thinking she seems kind of down lately.”

  Sam nodded. “These last few months have been really hard for her.”

  Jesse frowned. “She’s not happy.”

  Happy? Sam thought about that for a moment. The loss of her psychic abilities had been difficult for both of them. He used to love having her reach inside his mind, loved the charge he’d get whenever she touched him; those tiny surges of energy never once failed to thrill him. The loss of that still grieved him. But he knew that, for Marsha, it had to be ten times worse. It had been a blow to her self confidence, to her sense of self, to her sense of worth. It had changed everything she knew to be true about herself. “No. You’re right. She’s not happy.” “So? Why don’t you do something about it?” Jesse pressed.

  “It’s not that easy, Jess. What do you suggest?”

  Jesse shrugged. “I don’t know... something?”

  Sam shook his head. “There doesn’t seem to be anything I can do. Nothing anyone can do, for that matter.” Nothing but hope that someday, somehow, they might find a way to recover what had been lost. He looked at the boys. They and the cat were all staring at him now, watching him expectantly, waiting for him.

  He frowned. “Okay, hold up a minute you two, what’s the thought here? You do know that I’m not the reason your mother’s upset, don’t you? I didn’t create this problem. You both realize that, right?”

  Both boys nodded. “We know,” Frank said. “But, well–”

  “Isn’t it kinda like, your job to make her happy?” Jesse asked.

  “My job?”

  “Well, yeah,” Jesse said, looking to Frank for confirmation. “That’s what we figure, right?”

  Frank nodded agreement. “Right. Because you’re her husband.”

  “I see.” Sam regarded the boys thoughtfully. He didn’t suppose it was any use reminding either of them that Alex, Marsha’s first husband and the boys’ father, had done a piss-poor job of making their mother happy. Besides, maybe that was their point? He’d always considered it a matter of honor that he’d be a better husband to her than Alex had been. It was a concept he’d sold, not just the boys, but Marsha herself on.

  So, maybe the boys had a point, after all. Maybe it was his job.

  “Okay,” he sighed. “Let me think about it for a while, all right? I’ll see what I can come up with.”

  Frank’s face cleared at once. He nodded. “Okay. Thanks.”

  Jesse looked at him, suspiciously for a moment. “You promise?”

  “Hey!” Frank punched his brother’s shoulder. “He said he would.”

  Sam smiled at them both. “Yes, guys, I promise.”

  He watched as the boys headed back toward their room. Now what, he wondered. What could he possibly do to effect a change in Marsha’s mood? His angel was so demoralized that, just last week, for practically the first time since he’d known her, she’d let a Sabat pass without ceremony. Ostara had come and gone and she’d done nothing to observe it.

  “What’s the point?” she’d asked when he’d brought it up; when he’d asked if she wanted to go out to Celeste’s cabin, where she usually went to celebrate the holidays, or stay home, and use the smaller ritual grove he’d had planted for her in the back yard. “I’d just be going through the motions, you know. And, what good would that do?”

  “It might help you feel better,” he’d suggested. “Or, at least, more connected to things.”

  She’d smiled sadly. “Connected to things? What kind of things, Sam?”

  “I don’t know,” he’d answered. Things like the world around you, he thought, but didn’t say. The Earth. Spirit. Your old life. Me. “Memories, maybe? You always enjoyed it before.”

  “Memories. Yeah.” Marsha shook her head. “That’s the prob
lem, isn’t it? Remember Imbolg? Remember Yule?”

  Sam shrugged. He remembered, all right. He remembered the way she’d broken down in tears, for days after each of those holidays. “Okay. Maybe you’re right. Maybe you just aren’t ready to get back into it yet.”

  “Maybe I’ll never be ready,” Marsha had murmured sadly.

  Maybe, Sam thought now. Or maybe they’d both been wrong. Maybe what she really needed was to confront the problem head on. This was her life now, her new reality. Maybe she needed his help in order to face that?

  His thoughts were disturbed by a soft, rumbling noise that sounded uncannily like someone chuckling to themselves. He eyed the cat in surprise. Moondance was still folded up on top of his papers. Purring.

  Sam stared at the cat for a moment longer, and then shook his head. “Happy, are you?” he asked. And, if he’d actually gotten an answer to his question, it wouldn’t have surprised him. Not half as much as the pleased expression on the cat’s face had already done. If he didn’t know better, he’d swear the damn thing was laughing at him.

  * * *

  The sinking sun warmed the Western sky, and turned the water in the bay from gray to green. Seth stood on the porch of the old cottage that housed Siobhan’s nature center, breathing in the scents of sage and seaweed, watching as his dogs racketed around on the lawn, chasing each other in circles, snarling in play... tearing up the grass. And transforming the pretty green field into pulpy brown mud. Siobhan’s gonna love that, he thought wearily. Not that it mattered. Siobhan had been getting on his case about the dogs for close to two years now, anyway.

  Besides, his screw ups weren’t really hurting her any, were they? She still had him working here practically every day after school because of them.

  He had four of the dogs on his hands, these days; his own and the three who usually lived with Sinead. His parents had made it very clear that he was going to be the one responsible for feeding and exercising and caring for them all. Which was the whole reason why, when most of his friends were coasting through the last half of their senior year, he was holding down two part-time jobs, on top of going to school.

  “Are they always this active?” Jasmine asked, coming to stand beside him on the porch.

  Seth turned his head to look at her. She had Siobhan’s dog, Sidhe, with her. The Irish Setter was standing so close, she might have been glued to Jasmine’s leg. The two females stared at the dogs on the lawn as if they were an alien species.

  Seth crossed his arms and frowned defensively. “What of it? They like to play, that’s all.”

  Jasmine nodded thoughtfully. “Well, then, I guess it’s no wonder there are no birds in the nesting boxes, huh? Doesn’t that tick my Aunt Siobhan off?”

  Yeah, and what else was new? Seth shrugged. “I dunno. I guess.”

  Jasmine looked at him curiously. “So, tell me again. How’d you end up with all these dogs?”

  Seth sighed. If it were anyone else asking, he’d accuse them of trying to bust his chops; but Jasmine had been away at school, and preoccupied with her own problems and had missed the whole wild dog mess. He just hoped this was the last time he’d ever have to explain it to anyone. “Me and a friend found them when they were just pups. Their mother was a stray who’d been run over. We thought we could raise them, train them to be guard dogs, sell them to people. And then we were gonna use the money we made to maybe start our own kennel.”

  “Hmph.” Jasmine watched the dogs for a moment. “So what happened? That doesn’t sound like such a terrible idea. What went wrong?”

  “Eric – my partner – was a dick, that’s what happened.” Seth shook his head. “He trained them to attack things. People he didn’t like. Animals. Whatever. Then he ran them around in the park until everyone thought they were vicious. Or rabid. Or, maybe both. Your aunt still hates me because of it.”

  “What?” Jasmine frowned. “Which one? You mean Siobhan? No, she doesn’t.”

  Seth snorted. “Yeah, she does.” He shrugged. “It’s okay, though. A lot of people do. Practically the whole town was scared shitless of them. Matter of fact, they were all gonna be put down, on account of how dangerous they were. Only, my cousin Nick pulled some strings and got them adopted, instead.”

  “Oh. I guess that explains how my mom ended up with one, huh?” Jasmine smiled. “So what happened to Eric the dick?”

  “They locked him up.” Seth ducked his head and kicked at the railing, feeling like crap. Feeling like he always did whenever the subject came up. Whenever he remembered. Whenever he let himself think too much about it. “Not just ‘cause of that. He was dealing drugs and stuff, too. Also, he burned down a building, and tried to kill me and my mom.”

  “Oh.” Jasmine blinked in surprise. Her voice sounded a little squeaky. “And, this was a couple of years ago?”

  “Yeah.” Seth sighed, thinking about it. Thinking about Eric, and thinking about Deirdre, too. “So, what is it about guys like that? Why is it girls like them so much?” he asked.

  Jasmine stared at him. “What makes you say that?”

  “Well, they sure seem to.” Certainly Deirdre had. And, Cara, too, for that matter; although she’d claimed later that it wasn’t Eric she’d been interested in, it was all the shit he’d gotten her hooked on. Seth had never been sure how much he believed that. Eric had gotten him hooked, too, for that matter. And, while it had led to his making some really bad choices, it hadn’t ever left him wanting to fuck Eric, that was for sure.

  “I don’t know who these girls are that you’re hanging with, Seth,” Jasmine said, shaking her head. “But, I think maybe you ought to broaden your horizons a little.” She looked at him for a moment and then asked, “So, you’re graduating in a few months, aren’t you? What are your plans? Do you know where you’re going to school yet?”

  Oh, yeah, his other favorite topic, Seth thought, sighing once again. First the dogs, and now his future. He was still pretty certain that Jasmine wasn’t trying to make him feel like crap, but she was doing a good job of it, all the same. “I got no plans,” he told her. “I figure I’ll take some time off from school. Work for a while. See what happens.”

  “Oh.” Jasmine bit her lip, and bent down to stroke the Setter’s coat. “And, uh... your parents are okay with that?”

  “Sure,” Seth lied. “Why wouldn’t they be?” True, his mother hadn’t said much when he told her – which was a fucking miracle, given that the woman always had an opinion about everything under the sun. And, as for his dad, he hadn’t been okay with anything Seth had done, or even thought about doing in two years, so what difference did it make?

  Jasmine frowned. “I don’t know, Seth. It just always seemed like they expected you to go to college, didn’t they? Especially your dad?”

  “Yeah, well... ” Seth shrugged. “I’m not like you, Jazz. You always knew what you wanted to do.”

  “That’s not true.” Jasmine shook her head. “I’m still trying to figure things out.”

  “That’s not how it looks to me,” Seth said. And, come to think of it, maybe that was another girl thing. His mother, his sister, his girl cousins – they all looked like they knew what they were doing. They all seemed to have been born with a plan; with determination – and then some; and with the crystal clear knowledge of exactly what they wanted, exactly how to get it. Deirdre, too, with all her big plans for the future. Sure, they made mistakes, but did they ever have one moment of doubt about anything? Hell, even Cara, who’d once been an even bigger fuck-up than he was, all along she’d known what she wanted. And look at her now. She was so clear on where she was going, so flat out determined to get there, that it was scary at times.

  “I think it’s easier for girls. It’s like you all can plan your whole lives out—know every little detail about them, from now until forever – and get it all mapped out, between breakfast and lunch. Me, I have trouble planning what I want to eat for dinner.”

  “Well, as long as it’s food, does it real
ly matter?” Brandon, Jasmine’s boyfriend asked. He smiled at Jasmine as he climbed the steps to the porch. “Hey, sugar, how’s it going?”

  “Hey,” she replied, her eyes glowing as she returned his smile. “There you are. It’s about time you got here. You coming to rescue me?”

  Brandon arched an eyebrow. “Don’t I always?”

  “Mm. My hero,” Jasmine giggled softly as Brandon pulled her into his arms.

  Hey, why aren’t I getting some of that? I was a hero, once, too, Seth thought, watching as they kissed, trying hard not to feel bitter and jealous and totally alone. The last one was especially difficult. Because he was alone. He had been for a very long time.

  But that’s what you got for playing hero, wasn’t it? At the end of the day, you were beat up and broke down and out on your own. As far as Seth was concerned, Brandon—and anyone else who wanted it – was welcome to the title. The perks weren’t all that, and the pay sucked wind.

  He glanced at his watch and was relieved to see it was time to go home. Not that home was all that special, but, at the moment, it beat staying here. “Well, I’m gonna take off now,” he said, whistling for the dogs.

  “Oh. Okay, Seth,” Jasmine murmured. “See ya.” She was still locked eye to eye with Brandon, his arms were wrapped around her waist; and Seth was dead certain he couldn’t leave fast enough to suit any of them.

  “It’s about time,” he muttered as he headed down the path toward the parking lot, and he was pretty sure the couple on the porch were thinking the same damn thing.

  * * *

  “Slow down,” Liam ordered, clutching at the car’s arm rest as Cara accelerated through yet another turn in the winding road that led out to the mansion. “You’re driving way too fast. You’re gonna get us both killed.”

  “Oh, I’m gonna get us killed?” she replied in scathing tones. “That’s great. You moron. You’ve already done a good job of doing that, yourself. I can’t believe you. And I really can’t believe you made me late after everything I– Shit. Five months. Five goddamn, fucking months, and I was never late – not once. And, now– Unnh! Sonofabitch. I should have just left you there. That’s what I should have done. I should have just driven off and left your sorry ass behind.”