“You will never touch her,” Nicolas’ voice was low, even and controlled. “Come near her again and you will not be able to hide behind intercession and parlay.” Nicolas’ voice was cold and deadly. For not the first time since the empath had been bonded with Caitriona did Duncan wonder how far their bond extended. Were they mated? His mind screamed the question while his heart pushed the thought away. Instead, he stared resolutely at Nicolas, wondering how far the younger man would go to protect his charge. Duncan knew the answer.
“Very well, gentlemen,” Hawkins stressed the last word. “I trust the events of today will be…forgiven…in the name of peace, of course.” He swept them all with a glance. “I look forward to seeing you all at the parlay this evening where we can continue these discussions in a more…festive setting.”
Hawkins paused briefly and locked his gaze with Duncan. “I wonder what the delicious Caitriona Sinclair will be wearing tonight? Something cut low and naughty, I hope,” he said in a loud whisper to one of his men. Duncan knew the man was goading him and it almost worked, but Nicolas’ arm restrained him.
Hawkins chuckled and left the room, his men flanking him as they escorted their leader from the deliberations.
Gawain and the others released an audible sigh as the doors swung closed.
“Damnu!” Duncan’s voice thundered across the room. He began pacing, wanting nothing more than to go after the insidious, insipid little man and murder him where he stood. But he knew that to do so would violate the laws and customs of their world. “I think we can all agree this pretense of intercession and parlay is just that,” Duncan glowered at Gawain. He knew the older man had hoped to bring peace to their people.
“Agreed, son. But we had to honor the request.”
“The bigger question now,” Nicolas interjected “is how do we handle this evening’s event? Hawkins is expecting Caitriona to attend.”
“Aye,” Duncan responded, his genetically engineered intelligence already assessing various outcomes and the probabilities associated with each. “I want Caitriona guarded at all times. And she is not to attend any of the events.” The men in the room all nodded their heads.
“What if that’s exactly what Hawkins is expecting?” Gawain interjected. All eyes turned to him as he set the stage like a gifted playwright. “Hawkins is certainly up to something,” Gawain pressed on. “But what if he isn’t after Caitriona but something else?”
“That doesn’t make sense,” Nicolas pressed. “To what end? He has wanted Caitriona back in his clutches since he discovered she had powers.”
“Perhaps,” Gawain continued. “But what if Caitriona is merely a diversion? What if she is not his endgame?”
“I’m not following,” Nicolas said. “He has been clear in his intent to take her from us.”
“Yes, but only because he knows that’s what we are expecting.”
“Go on,” Duncan encouraged. He could already see where his father was heading. It was dangerous at best, and left Caitriona vulnerable to a man who was nothing less than a monster. But it was also their best bet for flushing Hawkins’ true intent into the open.
Gawain gestured to the now-vacated table. “Sit down, gentlemen. We may have just found a way to win this war.”
Chapter Fifteen
“This isn’t what it appears to be,” Caitriona said to Hawkins’ officer who was sent to represent the Order’s interest during the official parlay. After the events of the earlier intercession, she knew both sides were guarded and on edge. Her eyes tracked Duncan’s movement across the room.
“Is there somewhere we can talk privately?” she questioned the officer. She didn’t miss the way the soldier’s eyes swept across her body. She shuddered when he licked his lips like a cat waiting to devour its prey. Caitriona wondered if she hadn’t made a mistake seeking out this man’s help, but she was desperate to find a way home—for both her and Dani—and this man had both the means and the influence to help her. She gave him a brilliant smile, not missing the way Duncan’s eyes had narrowed, his perpetual scowl deepening. Had he heard her? she wondered. Surely that wasn’t possible, yet his scowl said otherwise.
The man placed his arm lightly around her waist and nodded in the direction of a private verandah that provided a magnificent view of the 23rd century Mexican city. She allowed the officer to escort her outside and waited while he maneuvered them to a quiet corner where they wouldn’t be disturbed. She turned to face him and was dismayed to see lust pass across his harsh features before meeting her gaze. She shuddered. Get to it, she mentally chided herself. Duncan won’t tolerate your absence long. Squaring her shoulders she took a deep breath.
“I understand you have a ship,” she stated in a low voice, casting a glance at the doorway lest Duncan make an unintended entrance.
The soldier nodded. “And I’ve been told you have information.”
“I have intel Commander Hawkins is seeking.”
“Intel doesn’t necessarily advance my career,” he growled.
“The information I have will ensure your rise in the Order’s ranks,” she ground out, wishing the soldier would get on with the negotiations. She was certain Duncan would appear at any moment.
“Depends.” He was waiting for her to make the next move.
“Tell your commander that Caitriona Sinclair sends her regards.” She turned on her heel, hoping her bluff was all that was needed. She started to walk back toward the hacienda’s ballroom, part of her hoping he didn’t take the bait.
“I hear you’re a witch,” he stated, his voice just loud enough for her to hear.
Caitriona slowly turned to face him. “You should watch who you accuse of being a witch,” she said, her voice dripping with honey. Her eyes narrowed to daggers. She didn’t like the direction the conversation was turning. “In exchange for passage to another time, I will give your Commander information about the battle he is planning to wage against the Templars.”
“He indicated you would say as much.” Hawkins’ parlay officer deliberately paused as his eyes traveled the length of her body. She was wearing a black floor-length ball gown that hugged her curves appreciatively. The gown was cut exceptionally low in front, barely covering her nipples while the back was open just above the small of her back. Chevrons had been cut into the dress at both her hips and knees providing a sexy view of even more skin. Her hair had been swept atop her head in artfully arranged curls that just touched the back of her neck. While she loved the reaction she received from Duncan, she was not altogether sure his choice of gown had been a good idea with so many of Hawkins’ lecherous men wandering about.
The young soldier cleared his throat and licked his lips salaciously. “He also told me I was to guarantee your safe passage in exchange for the information you would provide—with one exception.” A sardonic smile twisted his sharp features, making him appear even more menacing and threatening than usual. Caitriona’s body trembled. “Hawkins has invited you to his home to share this news with him personally. He said it will be a gesture of good will on your part. He told me to assure you we would continue the rules of intercession and parlay there and that no harm would come to you.”
“I don’t negotiate,” she snarled. “Either the information is valuable enough to Hawkins to have it delivered through you—or we don’t have a deal,” she finished. She was treading on thin ground. “Of course, if he doesn’t trust you, that will be his loss and something for you both to work out.” She turned once again, a slight smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. She knew from her time in Hawkins’ internment that his soldiers knew better than to cross him. She knew the negotiations were about to turn in her favor.
“Very well. Meet me at the Basilica in Chihuahua in two days. You deliver your information and I will grant you passage to your time.”
She didn’t trust him. There was an edginess to his voice that she didn’t like, but she was too far into her plan at this point to turn back. “There will be another passenger a
s well,” she added. At the soldier’s inquisitive look, she hurriedly explained. “To make it worth your while I will provide the Commander with the location of several Templar leaders—but only after we’ve made it safely to our own time. Do we have a deal?”
The man eyed her skeptically, but eventually drew a deep breath and nodded his head. “You realize this violates the rules governing intercession and parlay?”
She nodded, saying nothing.
“And you know that violators are prosecuted by death?” he inquired. She almost thought his tone had softened.
She nodded again. She had a momentary attack of morality as she thought of what her actions would do to Duncan. She couldn’t think about that now.
The Order’s officer started to say something else, but at that moment Duncan chose to make an unsolicited entrance. She backed away from Hawkins’ officer and faced Duncan, noting the scowl on his face. The officer also noticed the hulk of a man coming toward him and, nodding brusquely, disappeared into the shadows of the well-kept gardens.
“What are you doing out here, Caitriona?” Duncan growled. His eyes traced the path the soldier had taken.
“I just stepped out for some fresh air, Duncan,” she said stiffly. She tried to move past him. She couldn’t look him in the eye, not with the knowledge of what she’d just done—or what she would soon do. But Duncan had made his position with her quite clear. She was nothing to him save for a pawn and a tool in his military coup. She had to get herself and Dani home. From their time, she and Dani would work to enhance their powers and stop this time—this world—from ever becoming a reality. If she was successful in that endeavor, she would ensure the consequences of her actions would never come to fruition. She just hoped she understood the tenets of time travel well enough to ensure she was right…and that her trust hadn’t just been sold to the highest bidder.
Chapter Sixteen
Duncan eyed Caitriona as she plastered him with a beguiling smile that never quite reached her eyes. Her meeting with Hawkins’ officer had been more than mere polite political civility. No. If he was a betting man, he’d wager his starship on the fact that she was negotiating with Hawkins’ man for passage home. He could feel the fury explode behind his eyes. She had no idea what level of manipulative mastery Hawkins would stoop to for his own gain. Not to mention there was only one man skilled enough to maneuver a starship through a wormhole—if they could even find one. Hawkins knew this.
Duncan ran a hand through his thick black hair and sighed. He could sequester Caitriona until he could dispose of Hawkins and end the war. But he knew it was unlikely Caitriona would agree to his extremes.
“I think ye’ve had enough air for one evening,” he bristled. His arm touched her elbow with every intent of seeing her inside, but he felt her stiffen at the contact. He dropped his hand and motioned her toward the plaza, a scowl creeping across his hard features. Why couldn’t she trust him?
She arched one eyebrow at him but said nothing. Gathering her skirt in one hand, she started to brush past him, but her easy dismissal of him rankled him. Grabbing her waist, he spun her around so that she was mere inches from him. Her breath was soft and honey-sweet against his chest. Her large, green eyes challenged him, yet he thought he saw something else…regret? Disappointment? It passed quickly and was replaced with the guarded contempt that nearly always shadowed her flawless features. He inhaled sharply and steeled himself for the battle he knew was coming.
“Caitriona, don’t do this,” he whispered.
“Do what?” she hissed. “My part to end this war? I thought that’s what you wanted.” The double entendre was not lost on him as he recalled her unintentional confession the night before.
“Hawkins doesn’t negotiate,” he growled.
“Everyone has a price, Duncan.”
“What are ye hinting at, Caitriona?” he spat, tired of their game of cat and mouse. He was ending this game.
“Never mind,” she said, pushing past him once again.
“Caitriona!” His tone was sharp and he could feel the tick in his jaw that was an ever-present reminder of his carefully controlled warrior’s rage. He had never felt this much ire for one woman, but somehow Caitriona managed to get under his skin and drive him mad. It was this same passion that drove them in the bedroom. He grabbed her arm, effectively halting her exit once again.
She looked at his hand then glanced up at him, her irritation barely concealed. He needed to get a handle on this situation now. Sighing, he looked deep into the emerald depths of her eyes, trying to imagine the fear and isolation she was struggling to keep locked away.
“Lass,” he started, trying for a softer approach that belied his warrior’s posture. She shifted her weight and eyed him suspiciously.
“Just don’t, Duncan,” she snapped.
He didn’t think. He reached his arm around her waist and pulled her against his hard chest. He didn’t give her time to pull away. Placing his hand on her neck, he covered her mouth in a searing kiss. His tongue sought hers out, tasting, thrusting, until he felt her relax against him. She met his kiss, her mouth seeking his. He needed this. He needed to feel that connection with her that only they shared. She groaned and undulated against his hips. He could feel himself growing hard and he briefly considered carrying her to his rooms. He needed to bury himself in her.
His hand swept through her hair, relishing the way the soft locks glided through his fingers. Sighing, he broke the kiss, instantly missing the way her soft lips opened beneath his persistent exploration. “Damnu,” he cursed. He was somehow inextricably tied to this powerful woman and yet he could not see any scenario in which they could be together.
She placed her palm on his chest, perhaps intending to push him away, but she only stayed there, staring into his eyes. He knew she was waiting for him to say something, but anything he would have said would have been an empty promise.
Dropping her eyes, she started to push away, but he held her tight. “Leannan, ye’ve already changed the course of this war. Ye’ve stopped Hawkins once, ye’ll stop him again. Yer getting more powerful by the day, lass. Dinna give up on me. Or the freedom that should be granted to all men.” He palmed her cheek, relishing the soft, velvety texture of her ivory skin. “Dinna give up on us, lass.” The last was barely more than a whisper.
“Duncan, we’ve had this conversation a hundred times. I’m not what you need.”
“Nay. Ye can stop this war, Leannan. Ye’ve proven that. Because of yer visions, Castle Dunrobin still stands. Because of yer visions, hundreds of Dwellers are safe. Because of yer visions, Hawkins’ armies were pushed back...”
“You fight a war where there can be no victory,” she interrupted.
“I fight for ye, Leannan, for my people, for future generations of gifted…I canna see any other way, can ye?”
“Nothing you’d care for,” she quipped.
He arched one eyebrow. “Try me, lass.”
He saw the heat rise to her face. Yes, my love, I know what yer planning, he thought, willing her to divulge her plan. He wanted her to trust him. He didn’t want there to be secrets between them and yet somehow, he knew that even as he hoped it, she wasn’t about to tell all. And, if he was being honest, neither could he. Oh, what a mess this was, he thought.
“There’s nothing,” she said, stepping away from him.
He started to protest but was interrupted by a young messenger. “Seńor,” the boy said, bowing low. “Your presence is requested for the second round of intercession.”
“I thought we’d agreed to reconvene tomorrow,” Duncan said, irritated by the interruption.
“Si, Seńor. But Seńor Hawkins said he has new information that he wants considered and has requested to immediately reconvene. He said it is his right.”
Duncan sighed. “Tell them I will be right there. I’m going to escort Caitriona to her quarters.”
“Seńor LaFelle asked me to stay with the lady until he arrived. He was coming from
the estancia and said he would be here within minutes. He sent the guards as well.” The boy nodded over his shoulder where two armed guards stood with hands on weapons.
Duncan glanced at the two men. They didn’t look familiar to him, but their ranks had recently grown with the inclusion of several more bordering countries. It was nearly impossible to know each man personally—not like his own army, he thought.
“Dinna move,” he said to Caitriona. “Stay put until Nicolas gets here.”
“I’ll be fine, Duncan.”
He locked eyes with her and squeezed her hand. He didn’t like the idea of leaving her alone, but his presence at intercession was a necessary part of the charade Hawkins had triggered. He kissed her cheek. “I mean it. Stay put.”
She gave him a lopsided grin.
Glancing once more at the guards, he nodded at Caitriona and took off in the direction of the council, the dark shadow of déjà vu settling once again around his heart.
Chapter Seventeen
Duncan made his way back to the hacienda, his long legs covering the distance in record time. Stepping into the mediation room, he was surprised to find it empty. If Hawkins had new information, he’d have to introduce the key points in mediation before it could be introduced to parlay. Perplexed, he left the rather spacious meeting room and strode down the long stone corridor where the intercession council would be gathered. Pushing open the heavy oak doors, he inhaled sharply as his eyes scanned the empty room. Dread settled like a shroud against his shoulders. Glancing one last time around the room, he ran down the corridor, nearly toppling Nicolas as he turned the corner.
“Where’s Caitriona?” he shouted, fear making his tone harsher than he intended. He didn’t care.
“Last I saw her, she was with you,” Nicolas replied, his hand reaching for the weapon that he usually wore on his hip. His hand came up empty. As was the custom during intercession, he had been divested of his weapon upon entering the buildings.
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