Dark Gathering

by Karlene Cameron

  They didn’t get more than a few feet when the place suddenly erupted in an explosion. The blast knocked him off his feet and slammed him hard against the stone wall. His ears were ringing as he pulled himself to his feet. He looked around for Lee but couldn’t find him through the smoke and the debris. Duncan’s skin was bruised and battered from the explosion, but otherwise he was unharmed. His men didn’t fare so well.

  “Retreat!” he yelled over the noise. His obligation and duty to his men came first. He had to get them away from the compound and fires that were still erupting all around them.

  Lee appeared at his side. Dazed and bleeding from a nasty cut across his thigh, the smaller warrior looked like he was barely able to stand. “Gi yerself and the men back tae Casa Naica, now!”

  His second snapped out of his daze and quickly assessed and organized the team to retreat. “Where are you going, Duncan?” Lee shouted above the fray.

  “I’m nae leaving her here,” he shouted.

  “You don’t even know she’s here. And you’ll have no team to back you. Come with us!”

  “Go,” he yelled again. “That’s an order.”

  As Duncan turned to go up the stairs, an enemy soldier grabbed him. Duncan swung his claymore, but it clashed against the man’s shield. His men were already retreating. Again, he swung the claymore and this time was rewarded with the sickening slurp of skin separating from flesh as he brought the enemy down.

  “Reconnoiter with the squad and if I’m not there in 24 hours, secure the hacienda and move the troops,” Duncan ordered.

  Lee saluted and he and the others retreated, their orders clear.

  Fighting against the smoke that was filling the room, he started back up the stairs when something knocked him to his knees, expelling the air from his lungs. He didn’t have much time to think about this latest threat before another blow struck him hard across his back and he slumped to the ground. Dazed, he pushed himself upright and stood, leaning against the wall for support. He turned, just in time to use his claymore to block the enemy’s deadly blow. Metal slid against metal. With the wall behind him, Duncan didn’t have room to swing his claymore.

  Bellowing, he pushed the soldier from him, freeing his blade, but not before the soldier’s blade struck his shoulder. The pain didn’t register immediately but a split second later, he saw the blood run down his arm as the nerves were exposed to the air, sending hot pokers of white-hot pain surging through his arm. He bellowed again, more from frustration than from pain.

  He fell to the floor, struggling to keep conscious. Duncan could feel the familiar heaviness as his brain began to slowly lose consciousness. Fighting the inertia that threatened to pull him under, he rolled over on his side, struggling to push himself to his feet.

  He thought he saw Lee and three of his best Templars disappear up the stairs. What were they doing here? he thought as his brain tried to make sense of the chaos erupting around him. As his eyelids closed he felt rough arms grab him. Nearby, the tintinnabulation of swords sang out against the cries of wounded men. His eyes refused to open though, and the rough arms that grabbed him hauled him to his feet. His legs weren’t working. They felt as heavy as his eyes. The last thing he remembered was the fist connecting to his temple and the searing pain that ripped through his body.

  Duncan squeezed his eyes shut against the memories that flooded through him. He still wasn’t sure where he was or what had happened to his men. Damnu, Duncan thought angrily as he finally opened his eyes. The pain was worse than he imagined or remembered. He fought back the roar that threatened to leap from his throat and concentrated on drawing steady breaths of air through his battered ribs and lungs. Closing his eyes again, he focused on getting the pain under control. He had to figure out where he was and more importantly, where Caitriona was being held.

  Duncan’s body took over. In the blackness, his brain reached out, searching her lips, her breath, her very soul. He thought he felt a spark as something deeply intense flowed through him. While the blackness hung over him, there was something new in its place—a raw sort of energy that remained at the surface, wanting to be used.

  Duncan opened his eyes again, blinking back the heaviness that threatened to keep them closed. He blinked several more times, the webs beginning to untangle themselves. He was awake, his mind and body struggling to catch up. He had to find his men. He’d need their help if he was going to get out of this mess and find Caitriona. Hauling himself to his feet, he groaned as the pain in his ribs reminded him that he was at a severe disadvantage.

  Looking around the debris littered room, he saw one of his men dead on the ground. “Damnu,” he cursed aloud, feeling the outrage boil within him. Fear gripped him as he thought of Caitriona and Hawkins’ vile mistreatment of her. Hearing something, he looked around for cover. Finding nothing substantial, he moved behind the door and waited. He didn’t have long to wait. When the door flung open, Duncan’s military training kicked in. Hitting the intruder hard with the door, Duncan spun the dazed soldier and put him into a choke hold.

  “Where’s Hawkins?” Duncan growled.

  The soldier didn’t answer, instead kicking and twisting to gain the upper hand. The soldier was no match for Duncan’s genetically bred strength, even with his recent injuries.

  “Where?” Duncan growled again.

  The soldier sputtered and clawed at Duncan’s arm. Giving one last crushing squeeze, Duncan was rewarded with the slump of his victim, who’d made his choice. Lowering the man to the ground, Duncan saw the hate on the soldier’s face. Another life lost to the Order’s tyrannical cause. Duncan dragged the dead soldier away from the door and turned him over to retrieve his weapon.

  “Caitriona,” he whispered, “I need ye, lass…where are ye?”

  Again, he felt a spark of something raw and deeply connected course through him, setting every nerve on edge. The energy was almost cathartic, healing him, giving him strength that he shouldn’t have felt. Yet, as abruptly as it came, it left just as quickly, an emptiness settling around him once again.

  Duncan shoved the soldier’s weapon into the waistband of his trues and cautiously peered out the door. The vastness of the compound made him realize he’d been hauled into one of the adjoining rooms. He ran to the front entrance and peered outside. The courtyard was empty save for the bodies of soldiers and innocents that littered the ground. Duncan stepped over a body that was blocking the entrance.

  Where in the hell was Caitriona? he thought. And what in the hell happened here? He stopped in his tracks as a flood of energy washed over him once again. This time, he embraced the feeling and allowed it to overtake him. The sensation reminded him of the energy he had felt in the cave. Only this time, neither Caitriona nor Danika were here with him. He shook his head wondering if he had simply imagined the feelings.

  Shaking his head, he scanned the courtyard looking for Hawkins’ men. He had to get out of here and find Caitriona.

  As he started to leave, he saw a flash of his clan’s color about 200 meters in the distance. An explosion rent the eerie silence that had settled over the mountain. He watched as thick plumes of smoke rose quickly to the sky and the surrounding landscape burst into flames. Within minutes, the flames rose above the trees and the smoke threatened to choke everything in its path. Duncan heard another explosion behind him. Turning, he watched as another plume of flames and smoke littered the air. Somewhere in the distance Lee bellowed orders to his team, but the commands were muffled and distorted by the distance and gunfire.

  Duncan watched as the sky lit up again. Like fireworks, the explosions were dazzling in a hedonistic and destructive way. Duncan was brought out of his musings when he caught sight of his men battling the Order’s troops as they fought their way to the mountain. They needed his help. Hawkins’ men were advancing from the front and if he wasn’t mistaken, would soon flank his men from the rear. He had to get Lee and the others out of there.

  Pulling the next-gen weapon from his tr
ues, Duncan slid the safety off and powered the chamber. Sighting his weapon, he started to pull the trigger but froze. The energy he felt earlier washed over him again, bringing him to his knees. In his mind, he heard a woman scream—a deafening, terror-filled plea that made him cry out in frustration and anguish. The scream and the energy belonged to only one person and he’d be hell bound if he was letting her down again.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Shaking, Caitriona pulled the gun from the holster at the same time one of the Order’s soldiers fired his weapon at her. She dove for cover, narrowly avoiding the laser that shredded the ground in front of her. Rolling to her side, she fired the weapon only to come up short as the weapon failed to discharge. Safety off, she muttered to herself, her breath coming in short spurts as adrenaline coursed through her body. Flipping the safety to the off position she fired again, missing the soldier by a wide margin. He returned fire, the laser catching her on the shoulder and searing her flesh. She cried out and fired again, this time leveling the weapon like Duncan had taught her. Her target met its mark and the soldier exploded in a blast of shrapnel and laser fire.

  Shocked, she stood in disbelief, staring at the carnage all around her. Seeing two more soldiers approaching, she ducked behind a large concrete building, tucking the torn remnants of her black gown in around her. With shaking hands, she took a deep breath to steady her nerves. Glancing from behind the building, she saw Hawkins’ advancing horde. She needed to get out of their path. The question is where, she thought feeling desolate. She had no idea where she was and her head was still groggy from whatever sedative Hawkins had used on her.

  She instinctively ducked when a blast of laser fire 20 yards in front of her sent shrapnel flying into the air. Pulling her lower lip in tight, she closed her eyes and tried to open her mind for Nicolas. She had no idea if she’d be able to connect with him, but the action gave her some courage.

  Hearing footsteps behind her, she severed her attempts and dove, bringing her weapon up at the same time she landed on her feet. Caitriona hesitated, giving the intruder the opening he needed. The assailant spun, easily kicking the weapon from her hand. Without placing his foot on the ground, the soldier pivoted into a sidekick that landed squarely on her chest. The force of the kick sent her sprawling backwards. Her breath left her in a rush as she hit the concrete hard. Dazed, she pushed herself to her knees, gasping for deep breaths that wouldn’t come. Her flight reflexes were in overdrive. She knew she had to flee, but she couldn’t get her body to obey her thoughts. Concentrating, she started to stand when a boot came down hard across her back. She cried out and fell to the concrete again, the cold cement a harsh reminder that she was losing whatever earlier advantage she may have had.

  When she felt the soldier shift his weight, she rolled onto her back. Her new position allowed her just a moment before the soldier’s boot came crushing down on her again. Reacting instinctively, she grabbed his boot and twisted hard. The soldier went down like a rag doll, easily rolling out of the fall, his combat training a testament to his fortitude. While she had skirted the soldier’s deadly, crushing blow, it was a temporary reprieve at best. Crawling away from the soldier, she looked around for the next-gen weapon that had been knocked from her hands earlier in the fight. She needed to gain the upper hand and fast.

  Spotting the weapon a few yards from her, she scrambled toward the gun, praying she’d reach the weapon faster than her attacker. Fate was not smiling upon her today. The Order’s soldier spotted her intent and lunged for the weapon. He was stronger, faster, and uninjured. Securing the weapon, he turned and pulled the trigger, releasing a round of laser fire that tore through her shoulder and back as she tried to roll away from the blast. She cried out and fell face first onto the cold concrete, blood instantly staining the ground. Rasping heavily as she tried to suck air into her shattered lungs, she tried to inch her way to the protection of the building but it was no use. She collapsed in a heap, praying the last round would be mercifully quick. Crying out, she opened her mind one last time to Nicolas before the blast of fire was released.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Hawkins slapped Caitriona hard across the face and smiled as her head lolled back, a trickle of blood escaping the corner of her mouth. Two of his soldiers held her by the arms as Hawkins paced before her. She’d been unconscious for the better part of an hour. Naptime was over. He wanted her awake. He slapped her again and waited as her eyes flickered open and her body fought to regain consciousness. When her eyes fixed on him, he grabbed her cheeks hard between his hand, his face mere inches from hers. He could see the fear light up in her eyes. He laughed. How he loved this bitch.

  He slapped her again, chortling with glee when she cried out.

  “Wake up, my lovely witch. You and I have a score to settle.” He kicked her hard in the gut and grinned when he saw the air leave her body. He nodded to the soldiers, who released her, letting her fall to the ground. She cried out and tried to push herself to her hands and knees. He kicked her again, sending her sprawling to the floor. Sobs tore from her body as she tried to crawl away from him.

  “You escaped once before, and I have no intention of making such a mistake again, my pet,” he sneered. He grinned, remembering her earlier fight. After he’d whipped her, he’d released her restraints, confident she’d be able to do nothing more than lie in a heap. He’d left one man to guard her—a tactical error on his part and one he wouldn’t make again. After killing the guard for his incompetence, he’d ordered his men to find her and bring her to him. She hadn’t gotten far, not with the injuries she’d already sustained. When his soldiers brought her to him, she was unconscious having sustained a severe wound to her shoulder and back. Hawkins had his medic close the gaping wounds. After all, he couldn’t have her bleed out. That would surely put an end to his fun.

  “Leave us,” he said to the two soldiers. The men saluted and left, the cold winter air rushing in as they fled into the snow. Hawkins turned to Caitriona, who was still trying to crawl away from him. He hauled her to her feet and spun her around so that she was pinned against him, her back to his front. He felt himself grow hard just thinking of what it would be like to have his cock buried deep in her wet folds. She squirmed in front of him and he thrust against her.

  “Duncan will kill you,” she rasped between breaths.

  Hawkins knew there was a good chance he had broken one of her ribs. Of course, he’d do far worse to her by the time he was finished with her. Such insubordination could not go unpunished. The thought made him giddy with excitement.

  “Not today, my pet. Not today.” He ran his hand over her shoulder where dried blood had fused the material of her dress to flesh. Grinning wickedly, his hand grasped what remained of her gown and ripped it further, until nothing remained of the bodice. She fought even harder, fresh blood oozing from the reopened wound on her shoulder. His hand squeezed her breast, pinching the delicate pink tip until he drew blood. She screamed and he grabbed her cheeks in one hand, effectively silencing her. Leaning in close, he licked her face, the metallic taste of blood mixing with the saltiness of her tears. She tried to bring her knee to his groin but he twisted away from her reach. He was going to love breaking her.

  “I just love taking things from MacKinnon and making them my own,” he purred next to her ear.

  “Fuck yourself, Hawkins,” Caitriona spat.

  “Oh, I plan on fucking, my pet.” His hand dipped to the warm place between her legs, rubbing her mound roughly through the fabric of her material. “Be a good girl and show me how wet you can get.” He chuckled again as she tried to twist away from him.

  “Let me go, Hawkins, and he just may let you live,” she pleaded.

  Hawkins knew she was trying to delay the inevitable. The thought made him that much more excited.

  He clawed at her clothing, pulling the material down her waist and exposing her buttocks. The earlier lashes he’d unleashed on her would leave permanent scars on her body, unless
he used his century’s medicine to treat her. He pushed her away from him, shoving her to the floor. He loved the way her tender flesh was already showing deep bruises across her body.

  He walked to an oversized mahogany table that had been polished to a shine. Six chairs were placed around the table that still held the remnants of his earlier breakfast. He picked up a sharp knife he had used earlier that morning. Wiping the remnants of the dried food on his uniform, he slapped the metal side against his palm, eyeing the woman as she tried to pull the remaining pieces of her gown across her half-naked body. His pants strained with his erection and he undid the drawstring, watching his engorged member spring free. He kicked his pants free and walked over to his prisoner, who was now holding her injured shoulder.

  He grabbed a fistful of her hair and hauled her to her feet, watching as her bare feet sought to find purpose on the slick blood-coated floor. She shrieked as he thrust himself at her, her eyes growing wide in fright when she realized what he was about to do.

  “Yes, my pet,” he hissed. “I have been well endowed through genetic engineering, making me a rather prized commodity among the ladies. But this won’t be about your pleasure,” he said, holding the knife in front of her face. “Today will be all about my pleasure, and, well, my pleasure can be rather...perverse.” He pinched her cheeks and covered her mouth in a kiss. He bit hard on her bottom lip when she continued to struggle. Once again, he tasted blood, deriving a perverse pleasure from knowing he had complete control over her.