Dark Gathering

by Karlene Cameron

  She flinched again as she relived her assault. Hawkins pulled her against him and fumbled with his cock, his lecherous jeer a reminder of what he was capable of. His hand spread her vagina wide and then he thrust. Her eyes flew open and she scrambled out of the chair, putting as much distance between herself and her entourage.

  Nicolas severed the link and was on his feet in an instant.

  “That didn’t happen,” she whispered. “I don’t remember that. It’s not true.”

  “What is it?” Duncan growled, jumping to his feet and looking between Nicolas and Caitriona.

  She shook her head, tears coursing down her cheeks. “No!” she screamed as the memories came unchecked. She sunk to the ground, clutching her hand between her head. She wrapped her arms around her middle, rocking back and forth.

  This couldn’t be, she thought. Hawkins had raped her. The thought sickened her. She felt the bile rise in her throat and turned her head just in time to heave. She wanted to die. She closed her eyes trying to push the horrible memory from her mind.

  Duncan knelt next to her, reaching for her. She flinched, not wanting his touch, not deserving his touch. She had betrayed him and her own betrayal had led to her rape. Of that, she was certain. She deserved nothing less than this. Duncan tried to pull her into his arms but she pushed away from him, her entire body tensing at the contact. He stared at her and then looked at Nicolas. “What is it, LaFelle?” he asked. “What did she see?”

  Nicolas shook his head.

  Caitriona continued sobbing, tears coursing down her cheeks. She was vaguely aware of Maeve standing over her and handing a drink to Nicolas, who knelt and pushed the beverage to her lips. She turned her head, but he pressed the glass to her lips again.

  “Katerine.” His voice was firm. “I want you to drink this. It will make you feel better.”

  “No,” she choked. “All of you, please, just go away.”

  Duncan tried to pick her up from the floor again and she screamed. He stepped back, the hurt and confusion on his face causing her to look away. More memories assaulted her in a wash of pain and heartache: Her negotiations with Hawkins, the visions she had of Danika and Duncan, her betrayal of him. She wanted to die.

  Seeing the dagger tucked into the belt that hung around Duncan’s waist, she got to her feet and pulled the knife, slashing deep across her left wrist. Blood flowed over her wrist and onto the floor. Duncan wrestled the knife from her grip while the others stared on helplessly.

  Nicolas ripped part of his shirt and wrapped it around her wrist, staunching the flow of blood. She fought him, struggling to tear the bandage from her arm as he pinned her arms between their bodies.

  “Let me die,” she whispered, rocking back on her heels.

  “Not on my watch, Katerine,” her handler whispered, scooping her into his arms. He carried her from the great room, covering the ground quickly to her bed chambers, Duncan following. Nicolas deposited her on the oversized bed, smoothing the hair from her tear-stained and swollen face. He kissed her forehead before pulling the covers across her.

  The weight of the blankets surfaced the memories again and she kicked them off in a fit of hysterics. Nicolas brought the glass once more to her lips. “Katerine, don’t force me to hold you down. Drink this,” he said, his voice sharp with worry.

  She locked her eyes with his. He opened his mind and entered her’s easily. Caitriona didn’t care. She could feel him wrapping her in his energy, but none of it registered. She only saw the image of Hawkins raping her, over and over like a bad video that had been set on auto replay.

  She took the glass he offered her and downed the contents. What did it matter? She deserved anything they did to her and that included trapping her within her own hell. Within minutes, her eyes began to droop and she could feel the heaviness of sleep coming to claim her.

  Nicolas eased her back against the pillows and once again he pulled the blankets across her body. This time, she merely laid there and closed her eyes. She didn’t care. She was blissfully unaware of her surroundings and realized they must have put a large dose of laudanum in the drink. What did it matter? she thought bitterly. Hawkins had won.

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  The scream tore from Caitriona’s lips and settled in the vastness of the dark room. She sat up straight, her arms clawing the covers from her sweat-soaked body as her eyes tried to push the heaviness from her lids. She could smell the fear on her clothes as they clung to her. Her head lolled to one side, the vestibules of sleep refusing to release her, forcing her back into the weightiness that was her prison.

  She was somewhat aware of Nicolas’ strong arms cradling her body next to his. She could feel the hardness of his muscles and the steady beat of his heart. It reminded her that she wasn’t dead. But it was little comfort. She could feel the tears escape the corners of her eyes and trace a path down her pale cheeks. She felt Nicolas’ thumb brush the tears away. Still, her eyes refused to cooperate. Damn, she cursed to herself. She hated it when they sedated her.

  “Mon coeur,” Nicolas said, stroking her hair. “It is only a dream, dear heart.”

  She continued to listen to the steady beat of his heart. She focused on the deep, even breaths that he drew, allowing the last threads of her vision to fade. She knew it was more than a dream, but she wouldn’t share that with Nicolas. Or with anyone. If there was one thing she had learned since coming to this time, it was that knowledge represented power, and that knowledge kept secret became even more powerful. She would keep this vision to herself. For now.

  She didn’t know how long she stayed wrapped in Nicolas’ arms. At one point, she thought she heard Duncan arguing with Nicolas but decided she was most likely confused given the amount of sedative the resident doctor enjoyed using. She nestled deeper into Nicolas’ arms and sighed. The sedative was finally releasing her, although she still felt heavy and discombobulated. She knew she would fall in and out of consciousness for the better part of the day—or night. She had lost track of time since she had escaped through the tunnels.

  Nicolas kissed the top of her head again and pulled the covers over both their bodies. She felt a momentary sense of panic as the weightiness of the blankets settled around her, but she reminded herself that she was safe here—that this man would give his life to keep her from harm. The thought was rather unsettling given her treacherous actions and her recent capture by Hawkins. She fought back the bile that rose in her throat as she thought of what her disappearance might mean for Nicolas.

  Nicolas’ voice sounded as if it was coming from a turntable that had been slowed. Caitriona didn’t want to fall asleep. She didn’t want what she experienced to haunt her dreams, but she knew she would lose this battle. She knew the nightmares would follow. The pain was merely a dull ache now, ebbed out by her fierce need to stay awake. They don’t know about the nightmares. How would they? she thought tiredly.

  “Sleep, Katerine,” he told her. She thought she could feel Duncan’s presence. Odd, she thought, but didn’t give it any further thought. She wanted to explain her actions to him, and more than anything, she wanted his forgiveness. But that would have to wait. Right now, the only thing she could focus on was killing Hawkins. But first, she had to survive the night.

  Nicolas ran his hand through his hair and stared at the woman lying next to him in his arms. He felt ill with the emotions Caitriona had surfaced. What in the hell had she seen? he wondered. While he had experienced her emotions firsthand, he could only guess at what had happened. He stroked her hair when she flinched in her sleep. The movement seemed to calm her so he kept up the gentle ministrations.

  He knew Duncan was wrestling with his own set of emotions. He had been hurt by Caitriona’s dismissal of him and was unsure how to help her. They had argued about whether to leave the tunnels but Nicolas had won in the end, rationally pointing out that it was the middle of November and it would take them nearly two days in her condition to make it to the shuttle on foot. They couldn’t risk
Hawkins knowing their location.

  Duncan thought it would be best if his sister Fiona tended to Caitriona. Nicolas couldn’t argue with the man. Caitriona and Fiona shared a special friendship and more importantly, his charge trusted the older woman. He also knew that if anyone could get through to Caitriona, it would be Fiona. He’d talk to Duncan tomorrow and see what they could do about getting Caitriona back to Castle Dunrobin. For now, she needed rest and she needed to feel safe. These two things he could do for her.

  Nicolas let his mind drift to Danika. She had remained behind and was likely worried when they failed to check in. He had to find some way to get a message to her. He closed his eyes and saw her chestnut hair and warm smile. Perhaps she’d be able to get through to Caitriona. He’d ask her to join them at Castle Dunrobin. A slight smile creased his cheeks. If Danika accompanied them to Castle Dunrobin, he’d have many more opportunities to get to know the spirited woman even better. He sighed, torn between his growing feelings for Danika and the love he felt for Caitriona.

  Next to him, Caitriona twitched in her sleep and he wondered if she were having a dream or if she was having a vision. He stroked her hair and whispered French words in her ear. Goddess, how he wished he could take away her pain. He blamed himself for not having helped her get home earlier.

  “Nicolas,” his charge whispered.

  “I’m here, ma chérie,” he said into the darkness.

  “I’m sorry. Please don’t hate me,” she said, the sedative making her usual lilting voice seem heavy and awkward.

  “Never, chérie,” he replied, kissing her forehead. “Now get some sleep. We can sort this tomorrow, oui?”

  He felt her nod against his shoulder. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close. Listening to the soft, even breaths of deep sleep, he closed his eyes, secure in the knowledge that he would do everything in his power to see that she returned to the 21st century.

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Danika had spent the better part of the week waiting for word that Caitriona had been found and that she was alright. She hadn’t been privy to any of the details surrounding Caitriona’s abduction, nor had she been able to talk to her sister since her rescue. She knew only that they had found her and they would return to the hacienda when it was safe to do so.

  The wait was maddening. In the days since Nicolas and Duncan had left, Danika had rarely left the hacienda, staying close to Gabe in case he heard from Duncan and Nicolas. She trained both physically and magically six hours a day, preparing to go to war when the time came. And, now that Danika knew her sister was safe, she was hellbent on rallying behind Duncan’s war. They had to put an end to the New World Order’s tyranny—and it would take all their power and energy to do just that.

  Danika looked up as Nicolas entered the hacienda. He looked like he hadn’t slept in days. His usually neatly combed hair was disheveled, his usually clean-shaven face darkened by the beard that was starting to fill in. His uniform was wrinkled, and he looked tired. Danika stood and crossed the room quickly, giving him a hug.

  “When did you get in?” she asked him.

  “A couple of hours ago,” he confessed. “I needed to brief the doctors on Katerine’s care.”

  He started to say something else but she cut him off. “I need to see her,” Danika demanded, starting for the door. Nicolas grabbed her arm.

  “Stop, Dani,” he barked. “We need to talk first.”

  “Why?” Alarm laced her voice. “What’s wrong with Cat?”

  “She’s lost her memory, Dani. Or some of it, anyway.”

  Danika stumbled back, her usually carefree expression clouded with doubt and worry. “How?” Her voice trailed off. She had so many questions. “I want to see her,” she said again, with more resolve.

  Nicolas placed his hand on her arm. “She’s resting now, Danika. She’s…had a difficult go of it these past few weeks. She needs time to come to terms with everything that’s happened.”

  “What do you mean? What did Hawkins do to her?”

  Nicolas ran his neatly manicured hand through his hair, uncertain how much to share with Caitriona’s sister. “Hawkins tortured and physically assaulted her,” he confided.

  “What do you mean, ‘physically assaulted’?” she probed. “Isn’t the very nature of torture considered physical assault?” She placed her arms akimbo, tapping her foot impatiently. As was customary in the Mexican tradition, she had pinned the left side of her hair back, indicating her single status. The rest of her hair fell in glorious waves of chestnut across her shoulders and back.

  “She was sexually assaulted,” he whispered.

  Danika glared at him. “You were supposed to protect her,” she screamed.

  Nicolas locked eyes with hers, refusing to back down from her penetrating gaze.

  “I know,” he told her, his voice full of apology. He grabbed her arm, forcing her to acknowledge him. “Goddess, I know,” he groaned. “And I will have to shoulder that guilt for the rest of my life.”

  After several seconds, her eyes dropped to the hand he still had on her upper arm. “Let me go,” she hissed.

  He dropped her hand and once again they locked eyes. She wanted to erase the disappointment she saw in his eyes; disappointment, she knew, that could only be attributed to himself.

  “Say something,” she growled.

  “I will not make excuses,” he told her. “She’s lying in that bed,” he gestured to the bed chambers, “because I was too distracted to notice how badly she wanted to return to her century.” His voice shook with his barely concealed anger and frustration.

  Danika slapped him hard in the face. “You don’t get the luxury of being distracted,” she told him, the anger in her voice punctuating her words.

  He didn’t move. “I deserve that,” he told her, his hand rubbing his jaw where already a red mark was staining his cheek.

  “Damn straight, you do,” she tossed back. She shifted the bow and arrow she had taken to wearing on her shoulder and pushed past him.

  “Where are you going?” he demanded.

  She ignored his question and kept walking.

  His long legs easily matched hers stride for stride and she marveled at how well matched they were. She sighed. This changed everything.

  “Promise me you won’t do anything foolish,” Nicolas pressed.

  “Not making that promise, Nicolas,” she ground out, slinging the bow to the opposite shoulder.

  “Danika,” he shouted, grabbing her arm.

  She glared at him until he dropped his arm once again. “Fuck off, Nicolas,” she told him, venom dripping from her voice. He started to follow but she made a gesture with her hand that she was certain he’d understand.

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Caitriona laughed at something Danika said, wincing as her sister nudged her playfully on the shoulder. “Still sore,” Caitriona laughed, squeezing her sister’s hand affectionately. It had been four weeks since she’d returned to the hacienda and her memories of her sister and her time in the 23rd century were slowly returning. She grasped her sister’s hand as they strolled through the Mexican gardens, a routine they’d gotten in the habit of doing after breakfast.

  “You know he wants to see you,” Danika said, breaking the silence of their walk.

  “I know.” Caitriona paused, uncertain how to explain her feelings about Duncan to her sister. “I can’t. Not yet,” she replied, deciding the simplest explanation was the best. She pointed to one of seven outdoor patios scattered throughout the hacienda’s gardens and she and her sister walked to comfortable outdoor furniture and sat down, propping their feet on the reclining chairs. Just several feet away, two Templars remained vigilant, ever watchful for signs of Hawkins or his soldiers. Caitriona sighed. The men were an ever-present reminder of the dangerous world she now lived in.

  “He’s crazy about you, Cat.”

  Caitriona gave her sister a wan smile, staring absently at the light wisps of cloud that were sc
attered in the mid-December sky. Out here, she felt at peace, away from the reminders of war and the physical and emotional scars it left behind. The hacienda felt stifling, its people broken, looking for answers where there was only destruction and death. She shivered and pulled her lace shawl tighter around her shoulders. Despite it being December, the weather in Naica was quite mild and a soft breeze reminded her of the mild summers she loved while living in Seattle.

  Danika nudged her shoulder again, pulling Caitriona from her solitary thoughts. She gave her sister another wan smile. She knew Danika was worried about her. While she performed her role as Seer and attended trainings, meetings, and gatherings, there was a lifelessness about her that she knew Danika and Nicolas could see and feel.

  “Come on, sis,” Danika tried again. “You’ve got one of the hottest, most powerful guys here all but wrapped around your finger and you seem oblivious.”

  “Just stop, Dani,” Caitriona snapped. “I don’t even know him.” As Dani started to protest, Caitriona waved her silent. “Yes, I have a few memories of all of us together, but I can’t remember much of anything beyond that.”

  “I’m sorry,” her sister implored, rubbing her back. “I just want things to go back the way they were.”

  “And which way would that be?” Caitriona quipped. “Before I was kidnapped and brought here or before Hawkins…assaulted me?” She still couldn’t say the word “rape.” Her eyes started to fill with tears and she turned away.

  “You’re right,” Danika replied, getting up and standing in front of Caitriona so that she was forced to look at her.

  What did it matter if her sister saw her crying? It wouldn’t be the first time. Nor was it likely to be the last. “I’m sorry,” she murmured.

  “Nicolas says you’ve missed your last two counseling sessions.” It was more of a statement than a question.