Dark Gathering

by Karlene Cameron

  “She could be sleeping, Duncan” Nicolas reminded him. “I can’t always feel her when she’s sleeping, especially if she’s not having strong feelings or dreaming.”

  “Why would she sleep?” Sean interjected. “I told her to keep moving.”

  “She can be…obstinate.” Duncan said, just as Nicolas chimed in with “stubborn.”

  “Shit!” Sean exclaimed, berating himself for not thinking of this earlier. She may have felt safe in the tunnels and stopped. “I should have gone with her,” he confessed.

  “If you had, there’s a good chance the Order would have followed you. You gave her the best possible chance,” Nicolas told him.

  “Perhaps, but protecting that little lady is like covering your grill in a hurricane,” Sean said, giving both men a huge grin as he remembered his first encounter with the woman.

  “We’re wasting time out here,” Duncan ground between his teeth. “We need to go.”

  Sean stretched out his arm, pointing west. “As they say out west, we’re burning daylight, gentlemen.” Sean took up the rear as Duncan and Nicolas headed away from the city. He was determined to help his friend find the one woman who could turn the tide on their centuries-old war.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Caitriona awoke to the soft glow of a candle placed on a solitary nightstand next to her. The room was cold and she pulled the covers up tighter around her, enjoying the warmth of the down-filled bedding. She touched the clean bandage that was taped across her shoulder and under her arm. It was sore, but she’d live. She flipped the covers off her legs and sucked air in through her teeth as the cold brought gooseflesh to her arms and legs. She wiggled her toes, relieved to see that her foot hadn’t suffered permanent damage from her time in the snow. She frowned when she realized the wounds were nearly healed. She knew of no medicine or technology that could heal wounds that quickly. She wriggled her toes again and moved her arm. It was almost as if she’d never been injured.

  Pulling the covers back over her body, she glanced around her room. It was absent any decoration or area rugs that would have provided warmth. The only pieces of furniture in the room were a solitary chair pushed to one corner and the small nightstand next to her bed. Still, the place was clean and lit. She counted it as a small blessing.

  Closing her eyes, Caitriona drew in a sharp breath, pressing her fingers to her temples as she felt a heavy pressure settle in her head. The feeling wasn’t altogether uncomfortable, but it left her feeling unsettled. I must be getting sick, she thought as the heaviness became more intense. She curled on her side and pulled the blanket over her head, trying to ignore the odd sensation that was overtaking her.

  “Stop!” she screamed, relieved with the release of pressure that seemed to come from her outburst. She rubbed her temples again, but the heaviness had disappeared.

  Pushing the covers from her, she stood and made her way to the door. Pulling the small wood door open, she peered into the outer room. Seeing no one, she padded out to the main quarters where a long bench table had been set for 12 people. A carafe of water was on the table along with several breads. She poured herself a glass of water and took a piece of bread from the tray. Her stomach rumbled noisily as she greedily ate two more slices before looking around the room.

  “I see you’ve found the food, child,” said an older woman who walked into the room leaning on a wood cane. Her silver mane was pulled low at the nape of her neck and several errant tendrils escaped to lay wistfully against her aged, brown skin. Her hands were gnarled and her fingers curled slightly in, evidence of one who suffered from arthritis. She wore a plain skirt and blouse that did little to hide the lumps of old age. She smiled at Caitriona, showing several gold crowns where her teeth used to be.

  “I’m sorry,” Caitriona stammered, feeling like a child who’d been caught with her hand in the cookie jar. “I was hungry and saw the food.”

  The old woman waved her hand dismissing Caitriona’s concerns. “The food is for you, Caitriona.”

  “How do you know my name?”

  “I know a lot about you, child,” she said, gesturing for Caitriona to have a seat at the table.

  “You’re Maeve,” she whispered.

  “Hmmm, last time I checked,” she chuckled, again inviting Caitriona to sit at the table.

  “Are you psychic?” Caitriona asked, taking a seat.

  Maeve waved her hands in front of her, dismissing the question. “Just an old woman with enough wisdom and instinct to call ‘em like I see ‘em,” she laughed. “And a loyal network who are my eyes and ears.” Her voice was raspy, her eyes clouded by cataracts.

  Caitriona’s hopes sunk. “Can you help me get home?”

  “Home,” Maeve whispered, drawing out the word. “That’s not a place, sweet child. It’s here,” she thumped her chest.

  “I don’t think I belong here,” Caitriona replied.

  “Harhumph,” the woman snorted, taking a seat next to Caitriona at the table. “Who told you that?”

  Caitriona sighed and fidgeted with the fork that had been placed next to her plate. She admired the simplicity of the table. Utilitarian, she mused. Definitely wouldn’t make the cover of Good Housekeeping. Maeve cleared her throat, forcing Caitriona away from her reflections. She pushed her hair out of her eyes and tried to stifle a yawn. She couldn’t think anymore. The weightiness in her head had returned; almost as if it were a knock on the door that she had no idea how to open.

  “Sean Harrison told me to come here, but I’m not certain what it is I’m supposed to do now that I’m here.”

  “The Goddess has a way of revealing things when the timing is right.” Maeve pushed herself out of the chair and stood, reaching for her cane. “Eat,” she gestured to the table. “I will have Amanda bring you some clothes. She can show you where the bathing chambers are.”

  “Thank you,” Caitriona whispered.

  The old woman hobbled toward the door. “When you’re ready, we can talk about what happened to you. A woman shouldn’t keep something like that trapped inside her. It’ll eat at your heart and after awhile, will breed dark thoughts and even darker places.”

  “How…I’m not sure I know what…”

  Maeve waved her quiet. She tapped her forehead. “You can hide your secret deep inside you if you want, Caitriona, but the Goddess has a way of making darkness come into the light.” She opened the door. “Give him a chance, Caitriona. Look beyond the cover to see the wisdom of what’s really there.”

  Caitriona watched as the woman left the room. She took a sip of water, wondering what Maeve had meant by her last statement. She was just finishing another slice of bread when a young girl in her early teens entered the room carrying several gowns, shoes, and undergarments. The young girl appeared as if she would topple under the weight and Caitriona rushed to relieve her of her burden.

  “Maeve asked me to bring these to you,” the girl stammered. “Said I was to take you to the bathing rooms.”

  “You must be Amanda,” Caitriona replied, smiling at the young girl. Her long blonde hair was braided into two pigtails that sat on either shoulder, the ends secured with yellow ribbons that were worn and frayed on the ends. The girl wore a simple brown muslin skirt with a white blouse that was tucked neatly into the waistband. Her feet were clad only in delicate slippers that also showed signs of wear. She reminded Caitriona of her own childhood and the plain, simple clothes her aunt insisted she wear. Any type of adornment is a sin, her aunt was fond of saying. Clothes—as most things—were to be functional, not boastful.

  “Thank you,” Caitriona said, flashing the young girl a big smile. “Lead the way.”

  Caitriona followed Amanda down several tunnels that seemed to twist and turn in on themselves. Sconces on the tunnel walls cast eerie shadows into the passages. The entire experience felt reminiscent of something, but she couldn’t remember what. Images of tunnels and lights flashed in her memory, but she wasn’t certain what they meant.

 
Quickening her pace to keep up with Amanda, the young girl led her to a series of natural springs recessed into the tunnels. The steam rose from the water heating the room. Lavender had been added to the water to emit a nice fragrance and combat the smell of the sulfur. Caitriona sighed. It would be wonderful to soak in the springs and clean the grime from her skin.

  Once Amanda had left, Caitriona quickly shed her clothes and climbed into the hot springs. The water felt wonderfully warm and the soft bubbles massaged the aches from her body. She sighed and sank deeper into the water, closing her eyes. After soaking for several minutes, she picked up the bar of soap and scrubbed her skin until it was pink. She then reached for the lavender shampoo and lathered her hair. Holding her breath, she dunked her hair, rinsing the soap from her scalp. Surfacing, she wiped the excess water from her eyes and settled back against the smooth stone, closing her eyes once again.

  Caitriona tilted her head as she saw colorful ribbons wind their way into her inner vision. The dark magenta and forest greens blended together until she found the colors mesmerizing. The ribbons soon gave way to shapes and she sucked in her breath when she saw a vision of a large, imposing man with a gorgeous brunette whose skin looked as if it had been kissed by the sun. They both were naked, the woman’s hair falling in glorious chestnut waves down her back, stopping just before the cleft in her buttocks. She caressed the man’s face, a tear falling across her cheek and onto the ground below.

  Caitriona felt as if she should know the two people but their names remained just out of reach. Did she know these two? How was she connected to them? Was this a memory resurfacing? She had so many questions and no one to help provide any answers.

  Caitriona shifted in the water as she watched the towering giant push the hair off the young woman’s face. He stared at her the way lovers do, the ink on his upper arm drawing her attention. Again, she had the feeling that she knew this man.

  Another tear ran down the woman’s cheek and he brushed it tenderly away. He pulled her close to him and tilted her chin so that he could stare into her eyes. He mouthed something to her that Caitriona couldn’t hear and watched as his lips covered the woman’s in a tender kiss.

  Caitriona wanted to look away. She felt like an intruder in their romantic scene, but she was powerless to open her eyes. In the corner of her mind, she saw the ribbons swirl and wrap until the images changed and she saw herself standing over the man with a dagger in her hand. She raised the weapon high above her head and watched in horror as she plunged the blade deep between his shoulder blades. The man cried out and she watched as blood trickled from one corner of his mouth. The arresting woman he’d been with screamed and fell backward, struggling to move away from the scene unfolding before her.

  The man turned toward her, his mouth a shocking “oh” of surprise as he fell to his knees, his life blood pooling before him and staining the ground a grisly shade of reddish brown. Caitriona knelt next to him and pressed her hands against the wound, trying in vain to stop the flow of blood. She was sobbing but could only watch in horror as the man closed his eyes and rolled to his side.

  Screaming, her eyes flew open and she found herself staring at the man from her vision.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  “I have half a mind to haul ye out of that water and paddle yer arse until ye canna sit fer a week,” Duncan bellowed as he burst into the bathing chamber.

  Stunned, Caitriona covered her partially exposed chest with her hands and sank lower into the water, confusion wrinkling her brow. Before she could say anything, Nicolas burst into the bathing chambers, followed by Sean.

  Caitriona locked eyes with Sean, “You’re alive?” she said as more of a statement than a question. She furrowed her brow and looked from him to the other two men. “Sean, what’s going on? Why are these men in here?” She gestured to Nicolas and Duncan. “You both need to leave...now.”

  She offered no explanation or timeframe. Her voice was low and even. For some reason, the easy dismissal rankled Duncan’s already frayed nerves. He’d just fought several of Hawkins’ soldiers and covered untold miles only to find her soaking in a tub. Although he was relieved she wasn’t seriously injured, he wanted her to acknowledge his arrival with something other than disdain and confusion in her voice.

  “Leave us,” Duncan said to the other two men, not bothering to turn around. He was irritated that the men had followed him into the chamber. He had no desire to have them see Caitriona naked. Mine. The thought once again crept into his head like an incessant earworm that refused to leave. His hands balled into fists, a motion that didn’t go unnoticed by Caitriona who traced his every movement like a hawk tracking its prey.

  Nicolas ignored Duncan and picked up the towel that had been left near the steps. “Come, chérie, get dried off so we can all talk.” He handed the towel to her.

  Caitriona dropped her gaze from Duncan, instantly dismissing him.

  “Do I know you?” she asked, her eyes meeting Nicolas’.

  Duncan’s jaw dropped and Nicolas glanced at him. This was an unexpected turn of events.

  Nicolas closed his eyes. Duncan knew the empath was opening his connection with Caitriona and it was like a punch to the gut, an ever-constant reminder that he would never be connected to her in the intimate way her handler was.

  Nicolas’ eyes flew open and he shook his head at Duncan. Placing the towel on the stones closest to her, he turned to Duncan.

  “We have a problem,” Nicolas whispered. “We need to talk.”

  “Oh, this is too good,” Sean chuckled. “This is quite a love triangle you all have. Sweetheart, I’m sure you’d be worth the fight, but I’m going to have to sit this rodeo out.” He tipped his hat to her and headed to the door. “But if you get tired of these two pawning over you, well…” The unfinished sentence hung in the air.

  Duncan could see Caitriona was doing her best to suppress a smile, which undid his last nerve.

  “Leave,” he bellowed, not bothering to look at Harrison. “That’s an order.” He could hear the sergeant salute, and then the door close gently behind him. One down, one to go, he thought wryly. “You too, LaFelle.”

  Caitriona pulled the towel from the stone ledge and in one graceful movement, wrapped the towel around her body as she stepped from the large spring. Duncan was next to her in an instant, stopping short when she recoiled from his touch.

  “Do I know you?” she asked again, narrowing her eyes as if seeing him for the first time.

  Duncan felt as if a sledgehammer had crushed his chest. “Catie, lass, yer my heart, my verra soul.”

  “I don’t know you,” she stammered.

  His thumb pressed against her lips, silencing her words. She closed her eyes and parted her lips, igniting the connection they shared deep within him. Instinctively, he pulled her to him, the familiar curves of her body fitting perfectly against his. She opened her eyes and he stared into the emerald lagoons, his own roguish reflection staring back at him. He wanted to taste her, to feel her curves beneath his hands. He wanted to bury himself in her and forget his duty and the war. His mouth parted as he remembered the feel of his tongue grazing her teeth, her lips, her tongue.

  Nicolas cleared his throat noisily, reminding Duncan they were not alone. Damnu, he cursed, breaking the moment with Caitriona. Pushing her wet hair behind her ears, he turned and faced LaFelle. “I’ll be outside,” he growled. Turning to Caitriona, he locked his grey eyes with her green. “We aren’t finished here.” He was gone before he could hear her reply.

  Nicolas waited as Caitriona selected a brilliant magenta day gown from the options hanging at the back of the private bathing chamber. In truth, he knew she wanted him to leave as well, but his departure would only allow her to hide that much longer. He read the distress, fear, and loneliness that invaded her thoughts, and knew she was subconsciously suppressing her memories. While the blow to the back of her head had been a catalyst for her memory loss, he suspected there was a specific event that was
keeping her memories suppressed. He had to find a way to reach her.

  “You can turn around now,” she said, interrupting his thoughts.

  His breath hitched in his throat when he turned and saw her. The gown, while plain, hugged her curves appreciatively. She had brushed out her hair, which was in various stages of drying, the curls falling seductively over her shoulders and back. She stared at him with large green eyes that bore evidence of the little sleep she’d had over the past week.

  Extending his arm to her, she hesitated before looping her arm through his.

  “Katerine, you forget that I know your feelings better than you,” he said, breaking the silence that hung between them.

  “Why is that?” she pressed him. “Are we married?”

  He grinned. “No, Katerine. But I care for you deeply. We are…connected.”

  “I don’t remember you,” she confessed. “Or your friend.”

  “I know,” he replied. “I’m going to help you retrieve your memories, ouí?” When she nodded, he continued. “What’s the last thing you do remember?”

  “I was in my apartment. I think there was an earthquake…” She pressed her hands to her temples. “It’s all so confusing. I keep seeing these flashes…maybe they’re memories?”

  “Good, Katerine. Tell me more.”

  “The man who was just here…I keep seeing him with a dark-haired lady. I think maybe he’s with her, but when he is near me I feel…connected to him in a way I can’t explain. Do you know what it means?”

  “Ouí, chérie, I believe so, but I want to bring you back slowly.”

  “Why? What happened? What aren’t you telling me?”

  “Katerine,” he said, opening the door to her private sleeping quarters and motioning for her to enter. “The earthquake you mentioned happened over a year ago…in your time.”