When are you going to kiss me again?
The answer to that unasked question should be never. But damn, there was something irresistible about Echo Raintree. Instead of being horrified, she actually gave in to a small, secret smile that spoke volumes. She wanted him as much as he wanted her. The only difference was she had no idea how dangerous a deepening connection between them might be. For her. Dammit, he had to keep the woman out of his brain!
As powerful as she wasâand lack of control aside, she was quite powerfulâshe could be more. The weather power that revealed her mood; her ability to see into his mind; her clear empathic abilities. If he didnât know better heâd think she was like him. A sponge. A receptor.
A dangerous creature.
The two of them together could rule the world. Or burn it down around them.
âEcho â¦â Should he send her away or embrace her? Teach or shun? Pull her to him or make sure there were always thousands of miles between them?
Prologue
Autumn in the North Carolina mountains was always special. Even after serving six years as keeper of the Raintree Sanctuary, the beauty of the place and the season was not lost on Echo. The days were cooler now, and she liked that. The leaves on the trees had turned enticing shades of gold, orange and red. These early-morning walks along a wooded trail were for her and her alone. The rest of the day might be spent handling Sanctuary business, but each day began just this way, with a long walk and blessed solitude.
Suddenly her vision dimmed, and an instant later a burst of bright light blinded her. Echo dropped to her knees, hard, then fell forward, grasping at the dirt and small stones on the trail with her fingertips, trying to hold on so the world wouldnât spin out from under her. For a split second she was able to think, and what initially came to her was Iâm too young to have a stroke! But then thought was gone, the images bombarded her and she realized this was no stroke.
There was water, lots of it. Icy-cold salt water filled her nose and her mouth; she choked on it. It burned. She could not breathe. The two worldsâhers and theirsâmerged. She was prone on a dirt trail on Sanctuary land, holding on for dear life, but she was also there. And she was drowning.
The boat was sinking, going down fast. Water rushed in, sweeping people off their feet and away, pushing them under the cold water. The forceful and icy water swirled around her legs, pushing and pulling until she, too, fell and was washed deep into the sea. She screamed, and water filled her lungs.
There were one hundred and three souls on board; she knew that in a way she could not explain. Though she was underwater and for all intents and purposes drowning as so many already were, she heard the panicked cries of those who had not yet been swept under the dark waters. They were all screaming for help, and they were all going to die...
And then it was over.
Echo felt as if sheâd been kicked by a mule, but she blinked twice, three times. She caught her breath and rolled onto her back. Her entire body trembled; her knees were weak, and she remained cold. So cold. She wasnât sure how long the vision had lasted. Even though it had seemed like seconds while sheâd been caught up in it, she noticed that the sun had moved a bit higher in the sky. The morning was growing warmer.
She didnât sob, but silent tears streamed down her face. Her lower lip bled; sheâd either cut it when she fell or had bitten it during the vision.
All her life sheâd dreamed of disasters as they were happening. Sometimes sheâd go a few days without a nightmare, but sheâd never gone more than a week, maybe eight days, without one. Now and then she might see a disaster before it took place, but not often. Not nearly often enough.
This was new. For the third time in a little over a month, a vision had come to her while she was awake. Each one had stopped her dead in her tracks, had thrown her to the groundâor the floorâand had twisted her body and mind as she suffered along with the victims. Sheâd always hated the nightmares; sheâd dreaded them. But this...this was so much harder. This particular vision had been far more vivid than any of the others, much too real. What if they were getting worse?