Betrayed: Days of the Rogue (3 page)

Yes, everything was as she’d left
it, homey and peaceful. She relaxed even more, and chuckled softly
at her own foolish flight of fancy. There was nothing evil here
except the occasional spider and a few rodents outside. Deciding
that a soothing cup tea really
was
what she needed, she
pushed to her feet and padded towards the kitchen.

A flashing light on the side table
caught her attention. Someone had called while she’d been out on
her walk. Her sock-clad feet skidded slightly on the polished
wooden floor as she changed directions and went to check her
messages. Maybe it was her friend, Aly; a long chat would certainly
help settle her nerves.

The smile that had started to form
on her face faded when she looked at the number displayed and
realized who had called. It was her agent, Caro. Eve grimaced, not
wanting to deal with the overly effusive woman just then. She
contemplated ignoring the silent summons of the blinking light, and
even took two steps away before guilt had her turning back.

With a sigh, she listened to the
message that stated Caro was driving to Edmonton tomorrow and
planned to stop in on the way, provided Eve was going to be home.
There was a hint of dire consequences should she not be available.
Grimacing at the woman’s over-bearing manner, Eve picked up the
phone. Being level-headed and responsible sucked sometimes.

“Hello?” Caro’s voice sounded
distracted, as if she were doing a dozen things at once, which she
likely was. Her office always bore a resemblance to the aftermath
of a tornado though, surprisingly enough, the woman knew exactly
where everything was.

“Hi, Caro. I see you called.”

“Eve? Where have you been? I’ve
tried at least a dozen times and—”

Eve let the words wash over her,
knowing Caro would likely rant for at least five minutes before she
ran out of steam. The woman loved to turn everything into high
drama. Making appropriate noises in response to whatever Caro was
saying Eve went about her tea preparations, putting water on to
boil and finding the teabags. Once the water was hot, she poured it
into the teapot and leaned her hip against the kitchen counter so
she could look out the window while waiting for the beverage to
steep.

Splots of rain were hitting the
window pane while thunder rumbled overhead, but it appeared the
storm would quickly pass. Thankful that the source of her unease
would soon be over, she idly scanned the view. A thick growth of
pine trees flanked one side of the cabin and she began to take note
of how they looked silhouetted against the stormy sky. Straight and
stalwart, they defied the force of nature that vented its fury
around them. An idea began to form for her next project and her
fingers itched to capture the image on paper.

About to go in search of her
sketchpad, a sound near her ear reminded her she was on the phone.
“I’m sorry, Caro, what did you say?”

“I was asking if you had those
paintings ready for me.”

“The paintings? Oh, yeah...” Her
voice trailed off again as she stared out the window. Had something
moved near that old tree stump? She squinted, unable to detect
anything, yet the feeling that she was being watched had returned.
Shifting uneasily, she stepped back from the window.

“Eve? Eve! If you don’t answer me
this minute, I’ll—” Caro’s strident tones had her wincing.

“Sorry, Caro. I’m a bit distracted.
I have the weirdest feeling that someone’s watching me.” Even as
she spoke the words, she regretted them.

“Someone’s watching you? Like a
stalker?” Caro’s voice took on a panicky tone. “Oh my God, that’s
what you get for moving to the middle of nowhere. Lock the doors
and I’ll call the police—”

“Caro, calm down!” Eve hastened to
assure her agent, imagining how the woman was probably dragging her
hands through her hair, sending the frizzy bleached blonde locks
into even greater disarray. “I’m not in imminent danger. There’s no
one out there. It’s just one of those weird feelings.”

“But how do you know? Maybe some
crazed chain-saw carrying lumberjack plans to murder you in your
sleep! He’s hiding behind the trees and, when you’re not
looking....” Caro ended her sentence with some rather gruesome
sound effects. The woman’s creative mind definitely got the better
of her at times.

“Gee, thanks Caro. I feel a whole
lot better now.” Eve moved into the living area and grabbed her
sweatshirt from the chair where she’d tossed it earlier. Walking
into the bedroom, she placed it in the laundry hamper, then glanced
about at the disarray. If nothing else, Caro’s over-reaction helped
put things in perspective. “I think you’ve spent too much time
watching horror flicks.”
And I’ve spent too much time reading
mystery novels
, she thought to herself, noting the stack of
books beside her bed as well as the clothing scattered about. It
was time to get some work done. She started to tidy up as Caro
continued on with her theme.

“I don’t know, Eve. You always hear
about these ghastly cases in the news. I think you should report
this to someone.” Caro sounded doubtful before suddenly
brightening. “I know. Call that hunky man you’re renting the cabin
from! If nothing else it’ll give you an excuse to talk to him.”

Caro had encountered Rafe McRae on
her first trip to Eve’s temporary home, having accidentally taken
the wrong turn. According to her description, she’d found the man
nearly stripped naked and chopping firewood. It had taken several
glasses of wine, and considerable patience, before the woman had
quit enthusing about him.

Eve had to concede on some of
Caro’s points. At over six foot, with a sculpted body, Rafe was the
kind of man who had every woman drooling over him. However, Caro’s
description of him as charming was hard to swallow. Based on her
own meetings with the man, she was inclined to think that a rock
had more personality.

Making her way to the main living
area, Eve rolled her eyes. “I don’t need an excuse to talk to him,
Caro. I simply rent one of his cabins, nothing more.”

“That’s what you say, but your
artwork tells a different story. Did you know that each piece
you’ve sent back bears a remarkable likeness to him?”

“Really? I had no idea.” Eve
feigned innocence while flicking a glance towards the far corner of
the room where she had several sketches of Rafe pinned to the wall.
She had been using him as a model for the males on the book covers
she created to supplement her income as an artist. He certainly
was...inspiring.

“To a casual observer, maybe. But
remember, I’m an expert on the male form.” Caro’s reputation as a
cougar was a badge she wore proudly.

“Keep your claws out of him, Caro.”
Eve spoke the words without meaning to, and then winced when she
realized she’d just given the other woman ammunition.

“Warning me to keep away? I thought
you said he was
just
your landlord.” Interest flared in the
woman’s voice. It was easy to imagine how Caro would now be leaning
back in her chair, one leg extended as she studied her outrageously
high heels. One penciled brow would be raised as she twirled a pen
between her fingers. “Do I detect more than a passing interest in
the man?”

“I...” Eve fumbled for an answer.
As a woman, she was attracted to him physically, yet at the same
time they seemed to rub each other the wrong way. Besides, he made
her uneasy. There was something about his eyes and the way he
looked at her as if he could see into her soul. She shivered at the
memory.

“Listen Eve, if you need a few
pointers—”

“I don’t, thanks.” She cut the
woman off quickly, not sure she was up to hearing Caro’s advice on
men. “I’ve no intention of getting involved with Rafe McRae and I
don’t need to contact him about an imaginary stalker.”

“A chainsaw carrying stalker.”

“Caro!”

“All right, fine. Have it your way.
Don’t contact the man. Don’t pay any attention to my warnings.”
Caro sounded miffed and Eve could imagine her stalking about the
office, waving her hand theatrically. “But remember, if I drive all
the way to the back of beyond and find you’ve been hacked into
pieces by an escaped murderer, I’m deducting the gas mileage from
your next cheque.”

“First of all, Grassy Hills isn’t
the back of beyond. It’s only a little bit out of your way since
you’re driving to Edmonton tomorrow anyway. Secondly, there are no
escaped murderers being reported in the news. And thirdly, if I’m
dead, you can keep the cheque.” Eve barely resisted the urge to
stick out her tongue.

“Famous last words.” Caro said
dourly and then sighed. “I’ll be there around ten o’clock tomorrow
to pick up your latest pieces.”

“Okay. Why don’t we meet at the
Sunrise Cafe like last time? It will save you a few minutes of
travel time.” And keep you away from my cabin and Rafe, she added
silently.

“Good. If I’m out of the city for
too long I might start to convert into a country bumpkin.”

Caro hung up without even saying
goodbye and Eve set the handset down with a sigh. Her agent was a
city girl, born and bred, and couldn’t begin to fathom why anyone
wouldn’t want to live in the middle of a large city. Mind you, Eve
had never thought of herself as a country girl either, but ever
since ‘The Gift’ had struck her full force, she’d found it
increasingly difficult to live in a city surrounded by thousands of
people.

‘The Gift.’ That had been her
grandmother’s name for it, but Eve wasn’t so sure that ‘the curse’
wouldn’t have been a better name. The inexplicable empathy she felt
towards total strangers had descended on her last year and her life
hadn’t been the same since.

It was the Fae in her, her
grandmother had said. As a child, she’d sat at her grandmother’s
feet, listening wide-eyed to stories of a long ago time when her
family had seemed to possess strange powers.

“The power’s faded from us, child,”
Gran had explained. “It by-passed me and your father, but you’re
one of the lucky ones. I can see it in you.” Her grandmother had
cupped her chin and stared deep into her eyes before smiling
knowingly. “Aye, the gift is with you but what you’ll do with it
remains to be seen.”

At the age of nine, the words had
been thrilling, and Eve recalled waking each morning hoping that
the gift—whatever it was—would make itself known. But years passed
and nothing exciting or special ever occurred. She’d grown older
and more practical, Gran succumbed to old age, and the stories had
faded from her memory.

It wasn’t until she’d found a
letter, from her long dead Gran, in the back of a dresser drawer
that she recalled the prediction. Suddenly the vague headaches and
strange ‘daydreams’ she’d recently begun to have all started to
make sense.

‘
When the awakening comes on
you, you’ll know. You’ll need to nurture it, refine your skills,
develop control. Learning to shield your mind will be important, as
well as guarding your heart. Being Fae is a wondrous gift but you
must use it wisely…’

Eve wasn’t exactly sure she
believed in being Fae—extra sensory perception sounded a bit more
scientific and practical by comparison—but, whatever name you put
to it, the fact remained that Gran’s foretelling had come true.
Inexplicable headaches, random feelings coming over her that had
nothing to do with her own emotional state; it turned out they were
all signs of the Awakening. She’d cancelled the doctor’s
appointment she’d made, having thought some strange hormonal
imbalance was turning her into an emotional seesaw, and began
trying to learn how to live with this new twist in her life.

At first, it had been almost cool
to know how others were feeling without them saying, sort of like a
never ending party game. But constantly being inundated with other
people’s emotions—some of which she’d really rather
not
be
privy to—soon became exhausting. As a last resort, she’d moved to
Grassy Hills, the plan being to learn control of her new abilities
in a less populated area, and then returning to the city once she
had a handle on things.

Unfortunately, developing any
reliable amount of control was taking longer than she’d
anticipated. It was hard to always be on guard, to keep a mental
wall firmly in place all day long. So far, short trips into town
were about all she could manage, and even that had resulted in some
embarrassing revelations about how some of the residents felt about
each other.

Still, there were advantages to
living in Grassy Hills. An affinity for nature that she’d never had
before was growing within her. At times, she was sure she could
hear a faint whispering from the trees, even sense an underlying
hum of contentment that spread over the entire woods and lapped at
the edge of town. There was a distinct shift of feeling when she
was surrounded by buildings rather than nature. She wondered how
she’d never noticed it before, but perhaps being tuned into the
natural world was all part of being Fae; enjoying the quiet pace of
life, the fresh air and the scenery. And speaking of scenery… She
flicked a glance towards the pictures of Rafe again; the man
was
gorgeous. Now, if she could only figure him out.
Strangely enough, she couldn’t sense his emotions. Not that she
wanted to, she assured herself, but it was...odd.

Pushing thoughts of the man out of
the away, Eve collected her cup of tea. She paused for a moment and
stared at the beverage suspiciously—the book she’d read last night
had featured drugs slipped into a teacup as the murder weapon—but
then shook her head. Things like that didn’t happen in real life
and besides there were no murderers lurking in the area. Grabbing
her new book—a nice steamy romance—she settled down on the couch.
She’d been waiting ages for this book to be published; imaginary
stalkers and hunky landlords would have to wait!