by Linda Howard
“Yes, my lord. A six-year-old.”
“And her husband?”
“I’ve found no evidence of a husband,” Horace said.
“Are you telling me that the Raintree princess gave birth to a bastard child?”
“It would seem so.”
“Who is the father?”
“I don’t know.”
“Hmm…”
“If you’d like, I can e-mail you the complete report.” Horace fidgeted nervously.
“Before the child was born, where was Mercy living? Who were her friends? And in what hospital was the child born?”
“There is no record of the child’s birth at any hospital. We assume she was born at home, at the sanctuary.” Horace swallowed hard. “Princess Mercy grew up at the home place, as did her brothers. She was homeschooled. When she went away to college, several Raintree were sent with her, to protect her.”
“Protect her from what? From whom? The Raintree have not considered the Ansara a threat in two hundred years.”
“It is tradition that an underage princess has escorts. And just as with our empaths, any young Raintree empath must be protected from the outside world by others of her clan who can absorb the thoughts and feelings of humans before they reach the empath and flood her senses.”
“Yes, of course.” Cael’s mind went into overdrive, processing various tidbits of information. “Do you know of any time when the princess was out in the world on her own, say seven years ago, before she became the Guardian?”
“No, my lord, but if you wish, I can dig deeper and see if I can find out for you.”
“Dig deeper.”
Horace nodded.
“Are there any photographs of the child?”
“No, my lord.”
“What about a description?”
“No, but I can try to get that information, too, if you’d like.”
“Yes, do it.” When Horace started to get up, Cael motioned for him to sit. “Finish your drink before you leave, then let yourself out.”
Cael stood, crossed the room and opened the doors to the patio. Until only a few moments ago, he had believed there was no Raintree heir, that if all three royal siblings were killed before the great battle, there would be a fight among the royal cousins, each possibly claiming the throne. But now he knew that Princess Mercy had a daughter, a successor.
The child is a bastard.
No matter. She would not be the first bastard child to become a ruler. He, too, was a bastard, and one day he would be the Dranir.
Cael was uncertain why the news of Princess Mercy’s daughter concerned him so greatly. After all, the child would be killed along with her mother and uncles in The Battle that was to come. And once the Ansara took the sanctuary, they would prepare to go throughout the world and eliminate all Raintree everywhere.
Suddenly Cael heard a voice, as clearly as if someone were speaking nearby.
The child…the child. She could be our downfall.
Where had those thoughts come from? Not from him. Whose thoughts had he picked up on? Was it possible another Ansara knew about Mercy Raintree’s child and was thinking about her? If so, why would anyone believe the Raintree child was a threat to the Ansara?
Chapter 7
Monday Night, 10:30 p.m.
Mercy looked down from her bedroom window at the patio where only last night Judah Ansara had stood. In her mind’s eye she could see him glancing up at her, and she remembered the way his heated gaze raking over her body had made her feel. Desired. Ravaged. Ashamed. How could she still have feelings for such a man? Why did her traitorous body still yearn for his touch?
Until only a few moments ago, when Eve had finally fallen asleep and Sidonia had decided to rest in the adjoining room, Mercy had been too busy to think about her feelings for Judah. After he left today, she’d had to deal with Eve’s tears. Her mother’s heart understood her daughter’s dismay over losing the father she had only just met. And there was no way Mercy could make Eve understand what sort of man Judah was. How could she tell her child that her father was an Ansara, a member of an evil clan, a deadly enemy of the Raintree?
By the time she had pacified Eve by allowing her to try out several of her powers to a limited degree—something Eve loved to do—Mercy had been faced with a Raintree crisis. Sisters Lili and Lynette had arrived at the sanctuary, both overwrought and greatly concerned because suddenly and without warning each had lost her most powerful ability: her psychic ability to look into the future. Lili and Lynette, distant cousins to the royal family, were in their late twenties and had mastered their gifts, but neither possessed the psychic power that Echo did. Once Echo matured and learned to harness her great power, she would be the premiere Raintree seer.
After working with Lili and Lynette, Mercy’s first impression had been that someone had cast a spell to blind the sisters’ sight. But who would have done such an unkind thing, and for what reason? She had assigned the sisters a cabin and promised to work with them again tomorrow to help them regain their lost talent. If she couldn’t heal them, then she would have no choice but to contact Dante and inform him that someone in their clan was playing wicked tricks. But she wouldn’t bother her brother this week. He had enough problems of his own, dealing with the aftermath of the casino fire.
As if having to pacify Eve and begin the healing process with Lili and Lynette hadn’t been enough for one afternoon, she had been called upon to deal with a human who had tried to enter the sanctuary. He had been rendered unconscious by the force field protecting the acreage, so Mercy had restored him and sent him on his way after convincing him that he had received a severe shock from an electrified fence. It had been easy enough to plant the false memory in his mind. He wasn’t the first human who had tried to trespass, and he probably wouldn’t be the last.
Mercy was mentally and emotionally weary, as well as physically tired. She doubted she would sleep much tonight. She needed to devise a plan to deal with Judah.
You mean a plan to kill him, an inner voice said.
But she didn’t have to figure out a way to eliminate Judah tonight, did she? After all, it wasn’t as if he would return for Eve tomorrow. It could be months, even years, before he came for her. But what if it’s not? What if…?
The telephone rang. Startled, Mercy shivered and glanced at the bedside clock. A call this late in the evening was no doubt more bad news. Rushing to the telephone on the nightstand, she caught her bare toe on the wool rug and barely managed to right herself. Clumsy. She reached the phone before the fifth ring and didn’t bother checking the Caller I.D.
“Hello,” Mercy said.
“Hi, yourself. Are you okay? You sound out of breath.”
“Echo?”
“Yeah, it’s me.”
“I’m fine. But you’re not all right, are you?” Mercy said, sensing her young cousin’s uneasiness. “Tell me what’s wrong.”
“Look, before you get all bent out of shape, I’m all in one piece and I’m safe.”
“Safe from what?”
“Gideon didn’t call you, did he?”
“He phoned early this morning to tell me about the fire at Dante’s casino, but he didn’t mention you.”
“He didn’t know about it then.”
Mercy closed her eyes and concentrated, bringing her clair-empathy powers into play. She made a habit of using her lesser powers, such as her ability to sense the emotional and physical condition of others from a distance, only when necessary.
Echo was an emotional wreck but was putting up a brave front. And she was scared.
“Who are you afraid of?” Mercy asked.
“Jeez, I wish you wouldn’t do that without telling me. You’re probing around inside me, and I didn’t give you permission to.”
“You called me. I didn’t call you,” Mercy reminded her.
“You’re right. Sorry. I’m in Charlotte, staying with a friend. Dewey. I’ve told you about him.”
“The saxophone player?”
<
br /> “Yeah, that’s him. Anyway, Gideon knows where I am. As a matter of fact he sort of sent me here. You see…well…somebody killed my roommate, Sherry, last night and…well…you know how Gideon can talk to spirits and all—”
“Do you need to come to the sanctuary?” Mercy asked.
“God, no! I’m fine right here. Honest. It’s just there’s a possibility that whoever killed Sherry killed her by mistake. You see, she’d dyed her hair blond and pink, just like mine, and—”
“Have you had any visions recently about being in danger?”
Echo laughed nervously. “Gideon asked me the same question.”
“Well?”
“Heck, I don’t know. You know what it’s like with me. I’m always getting these weird visions.”
“Come home,” Mercy said.
“Nah, I’ll stay here for a few days, then we’ll see.”
“Echo, be careful. Just in case.”
“Sure thing.”
Lost in thought, Mercy held the phone for a bit too long after Echo hung up, long enough so that she heard the recorded message asking her to hang up and dial again. She placed the receiver on the base and sat on the edge of the bed. Echo was such a free spirit, so independent. Mercy worried about her because her parents didn’t. They were too busy jet setting around the world.
Who would want to kill a sweet girl like Echo? Okay, so she had some really flaky friends, like Dewey the saxophone player, and she did play in a band. Musicians were notorious for taking drugs. Was it possible that Echo had heard or seen something she shouldn’t have? Or could it be even more ominous? Maybe she’d had a vision that threatened someone.
Mercy didn’t like the idea that three Raintree psychics—
“Mommy!”
Mercy’s heart stopped when she heard Eve’s terrified scream. She jumped up, yanked open her bedroom door and raced across the hall to her daughter’s room. When she flung open the door and rushed into the semidarkness, she saw Sidonia trying to calm Eve, but Eve was fighting Sidonia not only with all her physical strength but with a little magical power kicking in, too. Books and dolls and stuffed animals flew around the room, whirling and spinning as if hanging from invisible wires and being propelled by a storm-force wind.
“Mommy!”
Mercy concentrated on breaking the energy that kept the objects levitated. Eve didn’t fight her, so within seconds all the objects dropped to the floor, a book hitting Mercy on the arm and two stuffed animals grazing Sidonia’s head. Sidonia moved aside as Mercy sat down on the side of the bed and took Eve into her arms.
“It’s all right, sweetheart. Mommy’s here. Mommy’s here.”
Eve clung to Mercy, her small body trembling uncontrollably.
“Did you have a nightmare?” Mercy asked.
“It wasn’t a nightmare.” Eve’s voice quivered.
When Mercy smoothed Eve’s long, blond curls out of her face, she realized her daughter was sweating profusely, her hair and face damp with perspiration.
“My daddy’s in trouble,” Eve said. “We have to help him.”
Mercy exchanged a quick, concerned glance with Sidonia, then concentrated fully on her child. “It must have been a nightmare. I’m sure your father is all right.”
“He wants to kill my daddy.”
“Who wants to kill your father?”
“That evil man. He hates my daddy and wants to kill him.”
“What?”
“I won’t let him hurt my daddy.” Eve grabbed Mercy’s hand. “We have to help Daddy.”
“All right,” Mercy said. “In the morning we’ll contact your father, and you can warn him that someone evil wants to harm him.”
“Why can’t I talk to Daddy tonight?”
Knowing how stubborn Eve was, Mercy realized that there was only one way to reassure her daughter. “If you need to contact Judah right now, then go ahead.”
“No!” Sidonia cried. “What are you thinking, letting her use such powers without testing her first? And to contact that man…”
Mercy glanced over her shoulder at Sidonia. “Eve has already spoken to her father. As a matter of fact, she connected my mind and Judah’s and listened in. Didn’t you, my little minx?”
“Heaven help us,” Sidonia mumbled.
“Go to bed in your own room,” Mercy said. “I’ll stay the night with Eve.”
Grumbling all kinds of dire warnings, Sidonia shook her head sadly, then left mother and daughter alone.
Eve looked up at Mercy and asked, “May I talk to my daddy now?”
“Yes, you may.”
Mercy didn’t doubt that there was someone out there, besides herself, who wanted Judah Ansara dead. Although she knew very little about him, she did know that he was probably enormously wealthy. When they’d first met, his lifestyle had indicated he was a man with a vast fortune. He had told her that he was an international banker. Being an Ansara, he was hardly a legitimate businessman. There was no telling how many illegal deals he had bartered and how many enemies he had made over the years.
Eve closed her eyes and concentrated. While she was deep in thought, Mercy held Eve’s hand and connected to her daughter’s mind, sharing her consciousness.
Daddy.
No response.
Daddy, can you hear me?
Silence.
Eve opened her eyes and looked at Mercy. “He’s not answering me. He won’t let me in.”
Mercy sensed that her child was on the verge of another psychic hissy-fit. She squeezed Eve’s hand. “We’ll try together.”
Eve’s precious smile melted her mother’s heart. Judah’s smile.
Mercy was grateful that Eve resembled her so much, with her slender frame and blond hair; and thankfully, she had been born with the Raintree eyes. Unfortunately, she also bore the Ansara blue crescent moon birthmark, which lay hidden beneath her hair. And from the first moment Eve had smiled, Mercy had known that she had inherited her father’s mouth.
After Eve closed her eyes, Mercy did, too, and together they called out to the same man.
Daddy.
Judah.
Beauport, Terrebonne, the royal palace, 11:00 p.m.
Judah sat alone in his bedroom, unable to rest, his mind filled with thoughts of the secret council meeting earlier that evening. There had to be a way to stop Cael without plunging the Ansara into a bloody civil war. It had taken them two hundred years to regroup and rebuild after The Battle with the Raintree. Hiding away on this island in the Caribbean, slowly growing in size and strength until they were once again a mighty clan, the Ansara now ruled a vast economic empire, fueled by both legal and illegal activities worldwide. As far as the world of mankind knew, Judah Ansara was a banker.
Daddy.
Judah.
What the hell?
He heard Eve’s voice. And Mercy’s.
Daddy, please answer me. I have to warn you.
Stop this now! Judah sent the mental message with harsh force, enough to startle Mercy without harming Eve. If you must contact me, call me on my cell phone. He recited the number. Once. Then, using all his power, he blocked his daughter and her mother completely.
By the time Judah reached out and picked up his cell phone lying on the round table near the French doors that led outside to a second story balcony, the phone was already vibrating.
He answered immediately. “Yes?”
“Judah, Eve insists on speaking to you,” Mercy said.
“You must never allow her to contact me telepathically again. Do you understand?”
“No, I don’t understand,” Mercy said. “Explain it to me.”
Judah huffed. He was the Ansara Dranir. He explained himself to no one.
“I have enemies.”
“Enemies with the ability to intercept telepathic messages?”
How did he respond? Half-truths were always best. Neither a lie nor the complete truth. “Yes. I have a half brother. We were once business partners. Now we’re bitter enem
ies.”
“Then he must be the evil man Eve believes intends to harm you.”
Judah heard Eve say, “Let me tell him, Mother.”
“Eve wants to talk to you.”
The next voice he heard belonged to his daughter. “Daddy?”
“Yes, Eve.”
“He hates you, Daddy. He wants to kill you. But I won’t let him. Mother and I will help you.”
Despite being slightly in awe of the child his one night of passion with Mercy Raintree had created, Judah couldn’t help smiling at the thought of how Mercy must hate the fact that Eve had allied herself with him. With her father, the Ansara Dranir.
But Mercy didn’t know he was the Dranir, that the Ansara had once again become a mighty clan that would soon be as powerful and plentiful as the Raintree.
“Eve, I don’t want you to worry about me. I know who this man is, and I can fight him on my own. I don’t need you to help me.”
“You will, Daddy. You will.”
“Put your mother back on the phone,” Judah said.
“Be very careful,” Eve cautioned.
“Judah?” Was that a hint of concern he heard in Mercy’s voice? Surely not. She hated him, didn’t she?
“Don’t allow Eve to contact me again.”
“And if I can’t stop her?”
“Persuade her,” Judah said.
“Maybe if you called her occasionally…”
“I thought you wanted me out of her life. Have you changed your mind?”
“No, I haven’t changed my mind,” Mercy told him in no uncertain terms. “But Eve is not willing to let you go and I don’t want her constantly upset.”
What sort of game was Mercy playing, blowing hot and cold? Go away. Come back. Never see Eve again. Call her occasionally.
“Tell Eve that I’ll call her soon.”
“I’ll tell her. And Judah…”
“Yes?”
“You know how I feel about you.”
Judah smiled. “I know. I’m Ansara and you’re Raintree. We’re mortal enemies.”
“That’s right. I just wanted to make sure we understood each other.”
“Sleep well, Mercy. And dream of me.”
Tuesday, 1:45 p.m.