Dark Gathering

by Karlene Cameron

  “What do you mean, in my time?” she asked, stepping into her room. “I’ve lost over a year of memories?”

  He stepped in behind her and closed the door. Pushing the hair from her eyes, he stared into her eyes trying to imagine what was going through her head. “I want to try something with you, ouí?”

  She nodded slowly. He could see the uncertainty in her eyes and feel the bundle of emotions that threatened to swallow her. He took her hand in his, caressing the back of her knuckles with his thumb.

  “Trust me,” he told her.

  She nodded again. “Your name is Nicolas?” she asked.

  “Ouí,” he replied. “Nicolas LaFelle. I’m your handler…and your friend,” he added.

  “Handler?” she questioned. “I’m a government agent or spy?” She started to move away from him, but he kept a firm hold on her.

  “Nothing like that,” he reassured her. “Let’s sit.” He motioned to the bed. “I’m going to sit behind you and I want you to lean in to me.”

  She looked even more frightened and skeptical, the fear rolling off her in waves. This wasn’t going as well as he had planned.

  “I won’t hurt you,” he told her, giving her hand a reassuring squeeze. “We are friends, Katerine. Can you remember?” he asked, moving behind her once she’d taken a seat on the bed. He straddled his legs around her so that her back was to his front, his hands resting on her shoulders. He piled the pillows behind him so that he could lean against the headboard and pull her against him. Goddess, she is tense…and terrified, he thought. She trembled beneath his hands. Maybe he was going too fast.

  “Breathe with me,” he told her. He closed his eyes and found her energy. It was a dark void, her shields firmly in place. “Katerine, breathe in through your nose and out through your mouth. Like this.” He inhaled a deep breath and exhaled it slowly through his mouth. He waited as they took several breaths together, clearing his own mind for the work ahead.

  After several minutes, he began to feel the tension in her body fade away and the trembling dissipate. When he was confident she was breathing deeply, he pushed gently against her shields. Her hands flew to her temples. “It’s only me, Katerine,” he spoke softly in her ear, bringing her hands down to her sides. “There’s nothing to be afraid of.”

  “I don’t know what to do,” she whimpered.

  “Yes, you do,” he told her. “Just relax and let your mind go blank.” He nudged again and this time her shields came down. He heard her sigh as he used his own energy to wrap them both in a ball of warm light.

  “Picture me, Katerine. Pull my image into your mind and then simply relax. Don’t try to force your memory of me. I promise it will come.” In truth, he had no idea if he’d be able to restore her memories, but he knew he had to try. They’d come too far and she was too valuable to them to do anything less.

  He placed his arm around her middle, feeling the soft rise and fall of her stomach as she continued the deep breathing exercises. In time, he felt her body stiffen and her breathing quicken.

  “Tell me what you see, Katerine,” he whispered.

  She started to push away from him, her breathing coming in short spurts. “Get away from me,” she cried, scrambling to move away from him. He tightened his hold.

  “Tell me what you see,” he said again, his tone insistent without being demanding.

  “You…have a knife…I can’t move…you’re holding me…”

  “Good, chérie. Let the memory play out. Don’t be afraid,” he told her again. He was hoping they wouldn’t start with the memory of their bonding, but he knew that the most lasting memories people had were built on strong emotions. It would make sense that their bonding day would be an intense emotional memory for them both.

  She cried out, trying once again to move away from him. “Let me go,” she cried.

  “What do you see now?” he coaxed.

  “You stabbed me. There’s so much blood.”

  “Ouí. Focus on what is being said. What am I saying to you, chérie?” She didn’t answer him. He could feel her heart beating at an accelerated pace, but he kept coaxing her. “Blood of my blood…” he began reciting the words that heralded their unison.

  “My life for yours,” she continued. “Until this day is done.” They both finished in unison.

  “You saved my life?” It was more of a statement than a question.

  “Oui, chérie. And you gave mine meaning. We complete each other.”

  She began to relax in his arms and he could feel the connection he had with her growing stronger as the suppressed memories began to resurface.

  “I remember,” she choked.

  He exhaled and held her tight, stroking her hair. He didn’t know how much she remembered, but his Katerine was back from the depths of her darkness and for now, that was all that mattered to him.

  Caitriona cried herself to sleep. With Nicolas’ help, Caitriona retrieved more of her suppressed memories. She still had very little recollection of Duncan or Danika, but he was convinced that in time, and through a similar technique, she’d be able to recover those memories as well.

  What still baffled him was her inability to explain where she’d been during the past week. Despite his best efforts, there was still a dark void where her memories should have been. He stroked her hair as she mumbled in her sleep and curled herself against him, her head resting on his chest. Her legs found his and he sighed as he felt his manhood stir. He wanted her. But he wouldn’t have her like this. To love her now would be taking advantage of her and he loved Caitriona too much to do that to her.

  “Nicolas,” she murmured, reaching for his hand.

  He grasped her hand and kissed the top of her head.

  “I was dreaming,” she whispered. He could hear the longing in her voice and wondered if he were the source of her dreams…or MacKinnon.

  Stretching, she rolled away from him and swung her legs over the bed, rubbing the sleep and exhaustion from her eyes.

  “Katerine,” he said, searching for the right words.

  “I shouldn’t be here,” she interrupted.

  He got up from the bed, straightening his shirt. “Katerine, you don’t have to leave.”

  “I know,” she said, running a hand through her tangled hair. “But I feel like I need to do something—anything to recover my memory. I just feel so helpless and…dependent.”

  “Katerine, I know you never thought you’d find yourself in this role. And, hell, I didn’t even understand what it would mean to befriend a lady of great power.” She looked at him and drew her bottom lip in to her teeth. He knew she hated when anyone thought of her as special. But she was special and he needed her to see it, to embrace her gifts. To remember more than just her relationship with him.

  “This isn’t just MacKinnon’s war,” he continued. “Or Hawkins’ war. It’s everyone’s war.”

  “Not everyone’s,” she said quietly, staring at her hands.

  “I know what happened in the caves frightened you.” He watched as a tear rolled down her face. She brushed it away with her thumb and stared at her hands, refusing to look at him. “I need you to be strong,” he continued. “Your vision told you the power of three was necessary to win this war. You need to trust that.” He paused and placed his hand over hers. She was cold and he instinctively brought her hand to his lips, brushing a light kiss across her palm.

  “MacKinnon was chosen to be your soul match, your equal in every way. Of this I am sure. You two aren’t meant to fight this war on your own. Your powers are stronger when you’re connected. His very life force runs through you and that is not a connection that was forged—like yours and mine—but one that was ordained.”

  Caitriona started to say something but stopped. He knew she was wrestling with her memory loss. The fact that her energy was connected to MacKinnon was overwhelming and frightening to her, of this he was sure. She had felt the strength of MacKinnon’s power when they had joined together at the caves. The r
awness of his power combined with hers had nearly consumed them both.

  She shook her head and finally looked up at him. “His power frightens me. I can’t control it,” she confided, as if reading his thoughts.

  “Katerine,” he said, embracing her. “Surely you must see the real war isn’t between Hawkins or MacKinnon. It’s between the gifted and the ungifted, between those who are free and those who are hunted. And make no mistake, ma chérie, the outcome we lay in the months ahead will determine whether all people can coexist and live together. You cannot afford to indulge your fears. Nor do you have the luxury of waiting until you can harness and control the energy you both possess.”

  “You don’t know what you’re asking,” she said.

  “I think I do, Katerine,” he said, his hands squeezing hers. “As long as Hawkins is allowed to persecute all men, none of us are free. You want to protect the gifted, oui?”

  She nodded. “Then there is no hiding from this, ma chérie. Hawkins is coming.” He punctuated each word. He could feel her emotions warring inside of her. He knew she needed time. But time wasn’t his to give. He had to get her ready for the battle he knew was coming.

  “Katerine,” he said again, pulling her face up so that she was forced to look at him. “We have to fight and we need to do it together. Winning this war is bigger than any one soldier.”

  “I know. I wish I could be brave, but I’m not. I’m so afraid.”

  “Good. You should be.” She tilted her head to one side and he held his hand up to explain.

  “Katerine, your fear is healthy. Goddess, I’d be worried if you weren’t afraid. But I also know your fear will guide you, MacKinnon, and others. Your fear is a reminder that you are alive.”

  “But if I go back to my century and work to undo what the New World Order has done, I have a chance of saving all your lives before any of this gets started. That’s our best option—not battle.”

  Nicolas dropped her hands. “I used to think that, Katerine. But there are so many risks involved with the scenario you paint, chérie.”

  He walked to a side table that held a bottle of whiskey and poured himself a dram. He took a sip enjoying the smoky, earthy flavor. He held the bottle up to Caitriona. When she shook her head, he set the bottle back on the small table.

  “Time travel is risky, chérie. There’s a high likelihood that you wouldn’t even end up where you need to be. If MacKinnon and his engineers make one wrong calculation, you could end up in another time—one where the consequences of your actions could change history in a devastating way. No, chérie, this is where—when,” he corrected himself, “you are supposed to be.”

  He could feel her disappointment and wished he could give her a solution that didn’t involve battle or time travel.

  “I’m worried this will change me.”

  “It won’t,” he reassured her.

  “How can you be so certain?”

  “I know you, chérie. At times, better than you know yourself.” He took another sip of whiskey, watching his charge furrow her brow as she assimilated this new information. “Trust yourself, Katerine. Trust your abilities.”

  “How can I when I can’t control what I see and any real surge of power knocks me on my ass?”

  “Then trust me,” he whispered. “I can channel your energy. I can shield you from the rawness of MacKinnon’s energy even if he’s unable to control it.”

  She looked up at him and he saw the trust in her eyes that he’d always seen. And for a moment he thought he saw love cross her soft features. And why wouldn’t she love me? he thought despondently. We share something far more intimate than most lovers. The bond they shared complicated all their emotions and made him feel guilty about his feelings for Danika.

  “Love is a tangled web,” he mumbled out loud.

  “What?” she asked.

  “Never mind, chérie.” The communicator he wore on his side chirped. Checking the communication, he pocketed the device and held his hand out to her. “I think there’s someone waiting to see you,” he said.

  Caitriona nodded her head, smoothing the folds of her skirt. She dabbed at her eyes and pinched her cheeks a couple of times. Tossing her auburn curls casually over her shoulder, she gave her handler one last attempt at a smile before following him into the lion’s den.

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Caitriona followed Nicolas into the great room and took a seat at the table across from Duncan. He looked angry—and hurt. She folded her hands in her lap refusing to look him in the eye. She wished she could have had one more day before she’d have to confront him. The memories she had of him were few, and always tied to other people. She took a deep breath and squared her shoulders. This wasn’t going to be easy.

  Sean strode into the great room and seeing her, took a knee. She sighed and closed her eyes. Another relationship lost to the cause, she thought, bitterly. He stood and tipped his hat, taking a seat at the table next to Duncan. Sean poured himself a glass of whiskey. Caitriona watched as he took a sip of the amber liquid and, after ensuring the taste was agreeable, tipped back the rest of the glass, winking at her as he set the empty glass on the table. He pushed his chair back and stretched his long, muscular legs out in front of him. Despite the nervous tension in the room, a smile stretched across her face at his easygoing nature.

  Maeve entered the room next, using her cane to help steady her as she made her way to the table. She shook her head, aware that everyone was watching her.

  What is this a fucking convention? Caitriona thought irritably. Maeve sat next to her, giving her hand a reassuring squeeze before hanging her cane from her chair.

  “I want tae speak with Catie alone,” Duncan broke the silence. She blinked, watching as he all but commanded the room. She could tell he was used to getting his way. This time would likely be no different.

  “Settle down, warrior,” Maeve said in her gravelly voice. “This is Caitriona’s story and her tale to tell. She deserves to be surrounded by those she loves.” She reached over and squeezed Caitriona’s hand again. “Go ahead, child. Tell us what happened to you before Jon found you.”

  “I don’t remember,” she said. It wasn’t entirely true. She remembered bits and pieces. But truth be told, she was afraid to remember. Her body was covered in scars and bruises and while Maeve’s doctor had healed the worst of her wounds, she was certain there were scars beneath the surface that would likely take years to heal. She didn’t care. In fact, she didn’t care if she never remembered.

  She fidgeted nervously, the dark, brooding man who sat across from her imposing and strong. She knew he was important. Nicolas had told her as much. She also knew she was central to his war. But there was something else. The air crackled between them. She might not remember him, but her body did. She pulled her bottom lip under her teeth and bit hard. The gesture didn’t go unnoticed by the man who sat staring at her.

  “Catie, do you remember being outside the tunnels?” Sean asked.

  She nodded. “Some,” she whispered.

  “How did you end up at the tunnels? Do you remember how you got there?”

  Maeve reached across the table and patted Caitriona’s arm. She closed her eyes as flashes of memory surfaced. She shook her head trying to sort through the memories that were disjointed and incomplete. She pressed her hands to her temple, ignoring the looks the men gave each other.

  She felt Nicolas’ gentle push against her mind and her eyes flew open.

  “Let me in,” he said, pushing harder.

  She shook her head and pushed her chair back, intending to leave, but Duncan reached across the table and grabbed her wrist, making it clear she wasn’t going anywhere. The electrical charge danced between them and she shivered despite the heat in the room from the fire.

  “Are you forcing me to stay?” she questioned.

  “Aye,” he growled, without apology. “Why did ye do it, Catie?”

  “Do what? I don’t know what you’re talking about,” sh
e said, sincerely.

  Nicolas pushed again and she struggled to keep her shields in place. “Let me in, Katerine. I can sort through the memories with your help.”

  “Maybe I don’t want to remember,” she replied. She closed her eyes against the dark shadows that were trying to surface. “I think I did something horrible,” she whispered. She opened her eyes and stared at Duncan, the dark storm brewing beneath his eyes.

  “Sometimes we do the wrong things for the right reasons,” Maeve said, patting her hand. “Let your handler help you, child.”

  “A coward dies a thousand deaths, a hero dies but one,” Caitriona mumbled.

  “What was that, sweet girl?” Maeve asked.

  “Just something my father used to say.”

  “Katerine,” Nicolas implored.

  She felt him push and this time she removed her shields and let him in.

  He inhaled suddenly and closed his eyes. She could feel him nudging and exploring. The entire experience made her exhausted and set her on edge.

  It didn’t take long before images of Hawkins flooded her mind. She saw herself in his office, her black gown ripped from her body. He held a knife in his hand and was cutting her shoulder, each swipe a reminder of the pain she had endured. She whimpered, but Nicolas continued, helping her unwrap the memories that hid in the shadows.

  She gasped when she saw Hawkins naked. He was pawing at her exposed breasts, her restraints giving him easy access to every part of her body. With his free hand, he stroked himself to hardness, enjoying the fear that laced her eyes. When he pinched her nipples to bleeding, he thrust his fingers in her vagina, pulling them out and sucking on them as she screamed with rage and terror. She watched in horror as his erection grew stiff with unspent excitement.

  Caitriona flinched as the memories became more intense, the tears that flowed down her cheeks a harbinger of the memories she was reliving. Nicolas reached for her, providing comfort but also enhancing the link. She knew he wasn’t going to let her run from the memories.