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RAYNE DANCE.
Mlyn Hurn.
Chapter One.
"It was a dark and stormy night."
Rayne threw the mystery novel across the room. It was too d.a.m.ned hot to be inside reading; especially since power usage was still so closely monitored since the end of the psychic war. Walking back to where her book had landed, Rayne picked up the maligned text carefully. Books were an expensive commodity these days, as was just about everything, unless you happened to be gainfully employed and non-psychic. Going over to her front door, she looked outside through the screen.
"Bulls.h.i.t! I'd give just about anything if it was a stormy anything."
Rayne walked outside and over to where her well had been successfully drilled a few years ago. She was luckier than many of the small farms around her. Her plants were still growing healthily, which was primarily due to her daily watering schedules. The buckets she filled twice a day and toted sometimes half a mile, took an hour to fill some days. By the time she finished filling them, the sun would be low enough in the sky for her to begin watering.
Finally, she had enough water to begin. Picking up two of the buckets, Rayne started the slow walk to the most distant of her precious plants. There was a watering can at different points along the path where she could fill them to water several rows and avoid carrying the buckets as far each time. Beginning with the first row, Rayne wondered how her sisters were getting along. That was one of the things about watering her delicate herbal plants and floras with a bucket-it gave her lots of free time to think.
The year was 2150. Since his a.s.sumption of power in 2048, Tyre Leyton had ruled with an iron "psychic" fist. He had established a system of overlords, who ruled over large cities, or regions. These overlords followed Leyton's laws, which were pa.s.sed by his selected legislators. The psychic overlords that the rebels finally defeated had destroyed what was once a unified world economy, using their paranormal ability to dominate the globe and control resources for their own greedy use. While the top overlords centralized the world government in the North American continent and lived in splendor, the rest of the world's nations had to use profits from their GNP to pay for such necessities as water.
The overlords had systematically destroyed as much infrastructure of the North American continent as they could when they knew they were about to lose to the rebels. Since the peace accord, most of the world had been striving to rebuild the heaviest damaged areas during the Final War of 2100. Rayne worried about her two sisters when her hands were busy, leaving her mind free to worry. While she was unaware of her sisters' exact locations other than which state each lived in, it was probably wisest for their safety.
Moving on to the next row, Rayne realized that she had not heard from either of her sisters for over a year. She couldn't help but resent the fact that they had to be separated for their protection. And sometimes she wondered if living in such isolation was worth the supposed safety it provided.
Rayne had finished the second row and now needed more water. It was getting darker and soon there would be no light at all. She hated watering in the dark. It seemed like she was always taking a wrong step and slipping in the shallow mud. Many times she returned home covered in mud. She resumed the watering as quickly as possible, reminding herself to focus on the plants, not her family or friends.
Of course, she missed her grandparents and often wished she could return to be with them once again. She didn't, though, because to do so could expose Maile and herself to detection by the government's police force designed exclusively to investigate, track and, when necessary, remove psychic citizens. Maile had sensed the three young girls' powers early on and secretly trained them. But she had come upon them once practicing a ritual that went back so far no one was completely sure of its origin. It took great concentration, and it was a.s.sumed that only equal psychics could truly accomplish such psychic connections successfully. Rarely was there more than one psychic child born into a family. But with the girls' history of direct psychic lineage, one could only guess at their true powers.
Rayne shook her head, hating to remember the fear in her grandmother's face when she had found them that day. Along with the fear came the pain of being forced to leave her grandparents forever. Her sisters had seemed to understand better, or they were just better at concealing their pain at leaving the only home they had ever known. Unfortunately, she didn't know exactly where either one was but sometimes the urge to find them was almost irresistible.
Rayne was dead tired as she made her way back toward her house. She still would have to make something to eat for her menagerie of pets. From the look of the dry earth, she might have to water during the night once again. Just the thought of that made her groan out loud.
"Good evening."
Rayne would have jumped out of her skin if she could. The deep masculine voice shocked and surprised her, coming from her front porch as it had. Obviously a visitor had made himself comfortable waiting for her. Abruptly, she stopped a few feet from the steps.
"Who are you? What are you doing here?" Rayne snapped at the unseen stranger. It was pretty much unheard of for newcomers to move into the area. Therefore, newcomers-strangers-were usually viewed with suspicion. Almost everyone farmed land and some raised animals as well. A stranger in the area stuck out like a sore thumb and word spread quickly about them.
"When you saw no one was home you should have left!" she accused him with her next breath. Her heart was racing, especially since she couldn't see him. It took several deep breaths before she calmed enough to "turn on" her psychic abilities. Despite the darkness, she had already guessed he was alone.
Suddenly there was the strike of a match and it flared brightly in the cooling darkness. Rayne blinked quickly, trying to focus on him in the small flicker of light. As she watched, he lit a pipe and took several long draws on it. The sweet redolent scent wafted through the air toward her. Smoking of any kind was pretty much wiped out these days. There were still kids who thought it was fun to smoke marijuana just to try it. But pipe smoking had become something only the very wealthy could afford. Tobacco had to be imported from South America, and since the war, prices had continued to skyrocket.
The flare from the match also served to momentarily highlight the stranger's face. He glanced in her direction and the man's startling hazel-colored eyes struck Rayne as quite unusual. His face looked sculpted and tanned. He came to his feet and was highlighted from the light behind him, inside the house. There was no missing his broad shoulders, tapering to narrow waist and hips. Something about this man was setting alarms off in her head, her psychic consciousness and her stomach. She couldn't deny that b.u.t.terflies were beating like crazy and she still had not yet seen the man clearly. In the light, he might be downright irresistible- Rayne stumbled at the first step of her porch. When she could get a better look at her visitor, he would also be able to see her more clearly. Tonight she had seemed to be particularly klutzy. She felt like one big mud pie.
The stranger crossed towards her quickly, extending his hand to her. Rayne pulled her hand away from the wooden handle bar, not completely sure that touching him would be a wise idea. She wasn't sure whether her reticence came from a desire not to get him muddy, or was it something deeper and more elemental that was sending warning signals to her brain. Her grandmother had told her once that some people could sense a psychic just by touching them. Maybe she could buy herself some thinking time by sending him into the small living room and she'd sneak around back, rinse off and then dart upstairs to do a decent clean up. Showing him her muddy hands, she spoke again.
"Sorry, I'm all muddy. If you want to go in...wait! Who are you and why are you here?" she added quickly, belatedly realizing that she was being much too accepting. Living in the small, easy-going rural area was definitely affecting her level of caution and usual alertness.
"I am Sean McDougal. I've heard nothing but compliments about your farming techniques and how you seem to be able to grow the healthiest plants in spite of the drought. I wanted to meet the lady with the green thumb."
"My thumbs are normal and why are you interested?" Rayne asked him promptly. Everything he had said was true. All the farms around her had come to see what she was doing differently. Her neighbor, the Jackson's oldest son, had even come several times to help her water since he'd first visited with his father.
"I just purchased the Scott farm."
"Oh," Rayne answered quickly. "My neighbor's son had mentioned last month that the place had finally sold. If you want to go in and sit down, I'll join you in a few minutes. And if you wouldn't mind going into the kitchen first and flipping on the outdoor light I would appreciate it. Thanks," she added before taking off around the side of the house.
Sean watched the woman scamper away into the darkness before he went inside to follow her instructions. Flipping on the outside light, he could hear water running. Unable to resist, he quietly moved out the back door, following the noise. As he came upon the pool of light, he felt like he had been gut punched. Standing under a running outdoor shower, a young woman clad only in a white, armless T-shirt and cotton panties stood, getting completely drenched to the skin. To the side he saw the outline of jeans and what looked to be another shirt tossed aside.
His eyes moved over her body slowly. He knew looking at her was only going to raise her barriers even more once she saw him. But there was no way in h.e.l.l he could turn away from the soaking wet woman in front of him. As he stared, her arms lifted and her hands sleeked her long, waist-length hair back from her face. This lifted her b.r.e.a.s.t.s beneath the wet and clinging shirt, highlighting her hard nipples. Those b.r.e.a.s.t.s looked the perfect size for his hands. And her nipples promised to tease his tongue once he captured the taut bud in his mouth.
He could still leave silently. She had not yet seen him or sensed that he was even there. That did surprise him since she was supposed to be psychic- It was too late a moment later. She was now facing him and her eyes had opened slowly. Taking a moment to focus, there was no effort on her part yet to cover her body. Sean, being male, took advantage and looked down at the apex of her thighs, concealed only by the thin, cotton fabric-now wet and nearly see-through. Expecting to see a lush, black forest or even a trimmed bushy garden, Sean was surprised to see flesh and the indentation of- Abruptly Rayne turned away, turning off the water. She walked the few steps and picked up her clothes. Sean could see the tension in her face and opened his mouth to apologize.
"No, please, Mr. McDougal. Don't say anything. I think you should leave, though." Rayne took a step past him, not lifting her eyes to meet his.
"I apologize. I heard the water and I didn't think-"
"It's all right. Please, just go, though!"
Sean nodded slowly, reluctantly starting for his truck. "I'd like a chance to talk with you-"
Rayne shook her head. "Please go!"
Sean decided that retreat would be best at this point. He had obviously embarra.s.sed her, and to continue might only serve to alienate her. The last thing he needed was anything that would hinder his final investigation for the Psychic Sensory Investigations Agency. Walking around her house to where he'd parked his vehicle, he admitted that he was grateful to finally be getting out. He was sick and tired of using his psychic ability to track innocent people down, and possibly destroy the life they and their families had made.
Driving back toward the large farming concern he'd purchased, Sean knew that he was possibly luckier than his fellow agents were. Thanks to his father's foresight and cleverness with money and investments, he had money to purchase land and start a new life...completely divorced from the Agency. In the early years following the war, he believed that the Agency and its policing agents were needed to track remaining psychics still loyal to the Leyton legislature and its overlords.
Unfortunately, some of the agents Sean had run across during his time with the Agency didn't quite agree with the views of the new government administration plan for tolerance. The goal, these days, was to identify and track psychics. The hope was to prevent the past from recurring and show that all people can live together peacefully.
One of the greatest problems was that some people still thought all psychics were evil and that they wanted to rule over all non-psychics. The pervading belief was that psychics could read anyone's mind, which naturally leads to fear. Sean had been taught almost from his first conscious thought to master his powers so he had complete control, not the powers. After college he had been looking for some excitement and danger, and ended up crossing paths with a PSI agent, Trevor Thomas, who had then recruited him.
His recruiter was now a department head of the Agency and working hard to get programs to educate about psychics and what kinds of talents and abilities they can have. Trevor believed that only through education could society achieve healing as a people. With education would come understanding, acceptance and tolerance, and hopefully would lead to friendship. When Sean had told Trevor he was leaving, he'd been offered several interesting management-level positions. Sean refused because even though it had been the excitement that had drawn him in the first place, he was tired of the subterfuge and delving into people's pasts. The last few years everyone he'd investigated had been harmless.
"Harmless" for psychics meant the individual was a level three or less. Tyre Leyton had been a five, and most of the overlords had been recorded, or speculated to be level four. Sean had tested to a level four when he joined the Agency, but since he was working with them he was perceived not to be a threat. And over the last few years, the remaining psychics from Leyton's time were living peacefully with the new government in power and were closely monitored. Many were aging or their grandchildren suffered from a chemical dependency to the drugs some of the overlords had used to enhance their powers.
Sean had been instrumental in bringing down the largest known band of psychic holdouts to date. Several of the men he had become friends with over the years through the Agency had infiltrated the band until they could gather enough information to know the location of them all and finally arrest them for re-integration into society. If it appeared after several years of conditioning therapy the person could not be safely reintroduced into the public, a permanent incarceration would occur.
Chapter Two.
Sean stopped thinking about the past as he turned down the gravel road that ended at his farm. Pulling the truck to the side of the house, he turned off the ignition. As he climbed from the cab of the truck, he could hear the barking of the two dogs he had gotten as a bonus with the purchase of the farm.
A moment later the two large multi-colored, mixed breed dogs were there to greet him. Squatting down, Sean gave each of them a few pats and rubs.
"Keep that up and they'll be putty in your hands, Sean."
Sean stood and saw his sister, Colleen, standing on the wrap-around porch of the house. She had her arms crossed but they were resting on her big belly. Her thick auburn hair had been cut short since they'd moved here, making it easier for her to care for. Her green eyes were usually smiling and she wasn't afraid of the sun, as evidenced by the freckles sprinkling her cheeks and forearms. Sean's hair was several shades darker than Colleen's and his skin tanned easily. Whenever they were together, people always guessed they were siblings.
"Shouldn't you be sitting down somewhere with your feet in the air?" Sean asked as he walked toward the front of the house to join her. As he started up the front porch steps, another voice answered him.
"I believe it was that position which got her into-"
"Bob!" Colleen admonished her laughing husband, ignoring the grin on her brother's face. Pretending she was not blushing, she sat on the porch swing beside him. As she adjusted into a position of comfort, she could hear her younger brother joining her husband in the laughter. "Keep this up much longer and the two of you will be cooking your own meals."
Bob stopped immediately. "I'm sorry, darling. Have I told you how lovely you look today?"
Colleen ignored her husband's belated attempt to smooth things over as she replied, "No, but you had best continue to tell me several more times today to make this feeble attempt at sucking up work."
Sean laughed and sat down on the top step. The dogs lay down near enough hopefully to get an occasional pat or rub. As he relaxed and started to enjoy the fact that he was a farmer, his sister interrupted his thoughts.
Colleen spoke softly. "How did your little trip work out for you tonight?"
Sean frowned as he turned to glare at his sister. "Who told you about my visit to the neighbor's?"
"I did," Bob answered sheepishly. "This woman should be working for the police. She could interrogate anyone."
Sean laughed and shook his head. "Just you, Bob. And you sound like you knew all along things would not go as I had planned."
Colleen shrugged. "Call it a woman thing, if you insist. But I was pretty sure that you couldn't just walk up to Rayne and get her to tell you her deepest secrets. Why should she in the first place? She has all the 'gentlemen farmers' knocked on their collective a.s.ses by how well her small farm is doing. Did she laugh in your face when you asked for her secret recipe?"
Sean glared at his sister. "Let's just say that I'll need to try again."
"What happened?" Bob added.
Sean knew that his brother-in-law was curious to know why the lone lady farmer was the talk of the town. The grat.i.tude Colleen and Bob felt that Sean had hired him to work as his foreman here was unnecessary in his opinion. Bob had worked on different farms and ranches since his teen years. The last fifteen had been as manager or foreman, and since coming here he'd expressed his desire to make this place the most successful in the area. Between this place and the tiny concern bearing the name of "Green Gardens" there was really no accurate basis for any comparisons.
His trip to "Green Gardens" had only come about because he had received a visit from a neighbor-a fellow rancher and farmer-and his son. Upon his retirement, which his superiors had not wanted to accept, he had shared his plans. "One last a.s.signment" was how they had put it. A rumor put a great-grandchild of Tyre Leyton in the area of his new home. The report had only recently been filed and they needed it checked out. Reluctantly Sean had agreed. This evening he had planned on filing his report through the secure uplink his computer still maintained with the Agency. In spite of his observances and subtle conversations, he had not found anyone that had required further investigation.
Yet this afternoon, walking Ralph Tandy and his son back to their truck, Bob had struck up a conversation about a particular kind of fertilizer, so he had deliberately held back and soon he was strolling more slowly with Billy, Ralph's teenaged son.
The young man was in high school and obviously worked out, so Sean had asked if he was partic.i.p.ating in sports. It had seemed like a safe topic. The sad look that covered his face told Sean he'd made a mistake. Quickly, as the kid was shaking his head, Sean asked him something else.
"What do you do with your free time?"
Billy's grin had flashed so quickly Sean wasn't sure he'd seen it. "I've been helping Ms. Waters lately."
"Helping her with what, Billy?"
Billy had stopped walking, glancing toward his father. He grinned at Sean. "Just around her place. She's alone there and I thought she might appreciate a helping hand."
Sean had looked at the kid's face and he had known that Billy was keeping all of this from his father. "She's an older lady and you're helping her out," he had offered, thinking that teen boys must be getting nicer. When he was seventeen, helping elderly women would have been nonexistent in his scheme of things.
There had been no mistaking Billy's grin as he winked at Sean. "She's twenty-five and I'm hoping to help myself into her hot little shorts."
Sean had tried to hide his surprise, but he'd known he'd failed as Billy's grin widened. "I've heard older women are the best! You don't have any of the bulls.h.i.t girls my age want to hand out. I imagine a few more times of helping her carry water and so on will have her ready to strip naked and f.u.c.k in the garden!"
"Hey! Billy! We need to get going."
Sitting on the porch now there wasn't a single doubt in his mind that Ms. Waters had the hottest body he'd seen in quite some time. As he'd stared at her firm full b.r.e.a.s.t.s and rounded a.s.s revealed by wet knit material, he could see exactly why Billy was falling all over himself to help the lady. He easily replaced the scenario that had been replaying in his head that starred Billy banging some older trollop. It was now his naked body joining her in the cold water, and his hands running eagerly over her wet flesh, shoving clothes out of his way.
"Sean!"
"What? Sorry, Colleen. I didn't hear you."
"I'm aware of that. Do you want me to reheat your dinner? If not, I'm going to bed so I can get an early start for tomorrow."
Sean paused for a moment to ponder his sister's words, but then decided he couldn't have missed too much. "Go to bed, Colleen. I can forage for myself, and thanks."
He sat quietly thinking about the beautiful Rayne Waters. His attraction was powerful, yet he still knew that he would check a little closer before he could explore anything at all with the seductive siren he'd observed tonight.
Sean came down the broad staircase reluctantly. He was dressed in a suit to satisfy his sister's demands. It didn't make any sense why Colleen was insisting on all of them dressing up for dinner tonight. He paused for a moment at the foot of the stairs as he heard voices coming from the living room. Since moving in here, the only time Colleen had made them use the living room before had been when their parents had come for a visit.
Stepping into the room a moment later, he understood his sister's odd behavior. The woman he had seen nearly naked and who had starred all night long in one after another of his erotic dreams was now seated on the sofa his parents had insisted on buying him during their visit. Her black silky hair was caught up into a haphazard knot, leaving tendrils of hair across her neck and ears. As she turned to see what her hostess was looking at, Sean realized she was wearing a pale pink dress. The cloth was cotton, and probably not considered s.e.xy by most. Obviously they had not seen the soft material draping over this lady's curves.
"Oh, good! Here's my brother now, Rayne." Colleen walked toward Sean and linked her arm with his. "He never seems to remember what time supper is."
Sean kept his eyes glued to his guest as she slowly turned. There was not the surprise in her eyes that he had expected. Perhaps his sister had only kept him in the dark about their guest.
"h.e.l.lo, Ms. Waters," Sean spoke softly. He watched as her eyes looked away from his gaze as she spoke.
"Good evening, Mr. MacDougal. I accepted your sister's invitation to save you from coming back to my place."
Sean started to offer his hand but she had already turned back toward his sister. He let his hand fall to his side as he listened to her speaking to Colleen.
"Thank you again for your kind request."
Sean watched as the raven-haired woman resumed her seat on his sofa, smiling as Bob joked about his wife's cooking. He had wanted to touch her hand, he realized with a jolt of surprise. Deciding he needed a drink, he turned toward the drinks cabinet in the living room.
"Would anyone care for a refill?" he asked as he poured himself a shot of bourbon. Pausing, he considered tossing that one back and refilling his gla.s.s. It only took a moment for him to conclude he needed all of his faculties this evening.