Dark Gathering

by Karlene Cameron

  Duncan carried her to the bed and placed her once again on the soft down, pulling the covers across her body. He brushed the hair from her face.

  Nicolas picked up her limp hand. “Sleep, Katerine,” Nicolas said. “I promise we will sort this out. Just give me some time.”

  Her eyelids were already closing and Nicolas knew she would sleep for the better part of the day and night. Motioning the others to retire from the room, they left the bed chamber, Nicolas checking to ensure there was nothing she could use to harm herself or the unborn child.

  “What in the hell was that all about, LaFelle?” Duncan asked, running his hand through his long dark hair, concern deeply etched in his brow.

  “We need to talk,” Nicolas said.

  Duncan dismissed the two guards. The Grand Maester conversed with the doctor. His tone and wide-eyed look assured Nicolas that the Maester was aware of Caitriona’s condition. He sighed. This was getting complicated. They needed to get on top of this before all sorts of rumors started. They needed to control the message. If Hawkins found out Caitriona was pregnant—and likely with his child, he would stop at nothing to take her from them. As if her life hadn’t already been in peril, her pregnancy ratcheted that up several degrees.

  The doctor cast one last glance at Nicolas and exited the room, the Maester following him.

  “What’s going on?” Duncan asked again.

  “Katerine is pregnant,” Nicolas said, his voice flat and driving straight to the point. He was unsure where Duncan would stand on this issue. Would he be another person bent on destroying the small life that was just beginning to sprout in Caitriona’s belly?

  Duncan sat down in the oversized chair, looking as if he’d just been knocked in the gut. “Mine,” he said flatly. “The bairn is mine.”

  “We don’t know that, MacKinnon,” Nicolas said, pacing the floor.

  “Mine,” Duncan growled again, but Nicolas could see the doubt cloud his face. “Test the bairn in vitro.”

  Nicolas shook his head. “Duncan, regardless of who fathered the child, this baby will have a genetic tie to magic. If you’re the father, this child could be the most powerful person our century has ever known.”

  “But my DNA doesn’t show any genetic tie to magic,” Duncan objected.

  “I’ve been working on a theory,” Nicolas said. He had wanted to wait until he could confirm with Duncan’s sister, Fiona, but it was time to put his cards on the table.

  “Go on,” Duncan said.

  “Your DNA was categorized by Hawkins and the New World Order government when you were genetically engineered. What if you have a tie to magic that was either undiscovered or deliberately kept from you?” Nicolas waited as the logic in his words registered with Duncan. “That would explain the power we saw in the cave. It would explain the feeling Caitriona gets when she is near you. And it would explain your connection to her.”

  “But tae what end? Why would the Order do that? They abhor everything that is connected tae magic. Yer wrong about me, LaFelle.”

  Nicolas chuckled. “You sound like Katerine,” he said.

  Duncan ignored the comparison. “We need tae test my DNA and that of the bairn.”

  “Agreed, but therein lies the difficulty. The intelligence and lab needed to run these tests only exist in the areas occupied by the New World Order.”

  “Damnu!” Duncan cursed.

  “Even if we could penetrate one of these centers and run the test, Hawkins may discover what we are doing…and that places Katerine—and her child—in danger. Fiona can test the child’s DNA to see if it matches yours…once the child is born. But I haven’t been able to figure out how to map both your genes without the use of one of the testing centers.”

  “What about using a drone? That’s how Hawkins determines who carries the genetic trait.”

  “The drone is the conduit. The information is still sent to the main computer intelligence where the information is mapped, sequenced, and immediately returned. Using a drone would not only alert Hawkins, but also add the child’s genetic information to the Order’s database.”

  “So we do nothing?” Duncan pressed.

  “Once the child is born, we can assess the child’s magical abilities, the same way we’ve assessed Danika’s and Caitriona’s—through training.”

  “That could take years,” Duncan growled. He started toward the bed chamber.

  “What are you doing, Duncan?” Nicolas asked.

  “I want tae see her.” His voice was challenging. The look he gave Nicolas, even more so.

  “Let her rest, Duncan. She needs time to process what has happened.”

  “She needs tae ken I will be here for her and the bairn.” He started to open the door, but Nicolas stopped him.

  “She tried to kill herself today…and the child. She needs to rest. Let the sedative give her the peace she seeks.”

  Duncan turned and faced him. Nicolas could see the concern and worry in the deep lines of his forehead.

  “This child needs to survive, Duncan,” Nicolas told him. “Give me time with her.”

  Duncan ran his hand through his hair and exhaled loudly. Nicolas could see the worry, the frustration and most of all, the heartache that was etched into his handsome features.

  “Aye,” Duncan finally acquiesced. “But I will be back tae check on her in the morning.”

  “Of course,” Nicolas released his breath, thankful for this one small victory. Now, he had only to convince his charge to give her child a fighting chance.

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  Duncan’s eyes flew open as he sorted through the shadows that blended his dream world with his waking one. He’d had a nightmare in which he’d lost Caitriona. Damnu, LaFelle, he thought. He needed to be with her.

  Getting out of bed, he pulled on his trues, not bothering with a shirt. His long legs carried him across the quiet of the hacienda until he reached her chambers. He didn’t bother knocking or announcing himself. The guard that was stationed outside her chambers acknowledged him, but did little more.

  Pushing open the door, he saw Nicolas sitting in the oversized chair staring at the embers of a nearly-dead fire. He was swirling the remainder of his whiskey, his mind clearly somewhere else. Seeing Duncan, he got up, but Duncan waved him off.

  “I need tae see her, LaFelle,” he growled.

  “She needs…”

  “I disagree,” he cut him off as he opened the door to her room. He knew Nicolas wouldn’t follow.

  “Caitriona,” he whispered into the darkness.

  “Leave me alone,” she said. He could hear the hopelessness and defeat in her voice.

  “Ye ken I canna do that,” he said, sitting next to her on the bed. There was a long, uncomfortable silence between them. He reached to her in the darkness and found her hand. It was cold. He squeezed it and pressed her palm to his lips.

  “I will not let anyone hurt ye, or the wee bairn,” he told her.

  “Even if that someone is me?” she said. “I don’t want this child, Duncan. It’s Hawkins’ and I can’t stomach the thought of carrying that man’s insidious spawn inside me or caring for it once it’s born.”

  Duncan didn’t try to refute the claim. Perhaps the child was Hawkins, but Caitriona admitted that she couldn’t remember the details of that night. There was an equally better chance the child was his and he was holding on to that hope. Regardless, Nicolas was right. The child needed protecting for all the reasons her handler had mentioned, and then half a dozen more.

  “Catie, lass, that child is half you; half of everything that is good and pure in the world.”

  “Maybe it’s not enough, Duncan. What if this child is a monster?”

  “Bairn are nae born evil, Alainn. They are made that way by their environment, by the people who surround them. This wee one will have so much love, there will be no room for hate. I promise ye.”

  He could hear her soft sobs and feel her body shaking, even if he couldn’t see the tea
rs coursing down her cheeks. He brushed her hair back and kissed her softly on the forehead. They stayed like that for several minutes, both seeking comfort from the other.

  “I can’t do this, Duncan,” she whispered gripping his hand.

  “Ye can, lass. We both can.”

  “I’m not strong like you, Duncan. I just want my life back.”

  “Och, Catie. It tears at my heart every time I look in yer face and see the hurt that is permanently there—knowing that I put it there.”

  “Take me home, Duncan.” She was pleading with him and it made him sick. “You are the only one who can do that, Duncan. You have access to a starship and the skills necessary to travel the wormhole.”

  “Nay,” the single word split the night like a cannon. He could feel her give in to the weight of her despair and his heart ached for her. “Lean on me, Leannan. I willna leave ye, or the bairn.”

  “I don’t even know who I am anymore, Duncan. I go where I’m told, I do what I’m told…I’ve lost myself. I can’t continue like this.” She pressed her hand to her mouth and tried to swallow the sobs that wracked her body. “I’d rather die,” she whispered.

  “Dinna say that, lass. Give me time and I will fix this. I promise ye.” Even as he spoke the words, he wondered if it was a lie. He couldn’t give her what she wanted. She was a tool in his war. He had seen to that when he started this mission so long ago. He remembered his conversation with Lee and how he had convinced his second in command the woman they were going to abduct was nothing more than a weapon they could use to defeat Hawkins. He’d barely given her any thought, so focused was he on winning the war. Somewhere along the way he’d fallen in love with her and was forever changed by that.

  He brushed her hair back and planted a sweet kiss on her forehead. “Rest, Leannan.”

  “Don’t go,” she begged.

  “Och, Catie,” he said, sliding in next to her on the bed. Those two words filled him with relief. If she didn’t push him away, there was hope for them. “Ye have the purest heart,” he whispered, pulling the covers over them both.

  “Promise you’ll stay,” she pleaded. “Just until I fall asleep. Sometimes I see horrible things in my dreams,” she confessed.

  “I’m nae goin’ anywhere, Alainn,” he promised. “I should never have brought ye here. I was selfish and too caught up in this war and my mission tae see what all this was doing tae ye. Goddess, forgive me,” he said, his emotions dangerously close to the surface.

  “There’s nothing to forgive,” she whispered, turning and cupping his face in her hands. “If anyone should beg forgiveness, it’s I.”

  She nestled into the crook of his arm, resting her arm on his chest. She absently ran her fingers along the outlines of his muscle, tracing the scars that were puckered reminders of the battles he’d fought.

  Duncan kissed her head and felt her relax against him. Within minutes, he heard the steady soft breaths that told him she was in a deep sleep. His arm instinctively reached across her belly, splaying his fingers wide where he knew the child grew. Mine, the thought exploded in his head. He knew the child was his. He didn’t need proof. He could feel it in his soul and for now, maybe that was enough for them both.

  Chapter Forty

  “Ye’ve been sharpening that blade tae a needle,” Duncan said to his second in command, as he watched him vigorously attacking the short blade.

  “We’re in too deep, Duncan,” his friend answered calmly, but there was fire in his eyes. “I want Hawkins dead as much as any man, but we don’t know the extent of Caitriona’s powers. This could be suicide. Worse yet, this could send our people back to their caves. We need to wait.”

  “Nay,” Duncan shook his head. “I refuse tae hide in the shadows any longer. I willna let another of my men die,” he growled, the storm brewing beneath his dark features. He had to convince Lee that this was the only way forward. They had an opportunity to flesh out Hawkins and kill the bastard, but it would take all of them working together and tapping into their collective energy; a power, he reminded Lee, that Caitriona had already prophesied.

  “We’ve come this far, Lee. The Seer has all but given us this moment. We need to press our advantage now, while Hawkins is retreating and his armies are depleted.”

  “This is suicide,” Lee growled. “Why don’t we wait? Wait until we’ve tested Caitriona’s powers, wait until the council has a chance to weigh in, wait until our numbers are restored.”

  Duncan grimaced. He didn’t want to wait for the council. He had to know the extent of Caitriona’s powers when fueled by his energy and Danika’s. If Nicolas was correct, and Duncan was the missing link, they had the advantage they needed to end the war with Hawkins.

  “We dinna have time to wait for the council’s decision, Lee,” Duncan said, running his hand through his hair and sweeping the long locks into a leather tie. A few tendrils escaped the confines and he absently pushed them off his face.

  Duncan began pacing, his thoughts racing ahead to the plan he’d been hatching since he discovered Caitriona’s pregnancy. If LaFelle was right, there was a good chance Caitriona’s powers would surface again in the caves. Taking her back to the caves would allow him to test the extent of her powers. All this, of course, was dependent on her cooperation, and she wasn’t the most willing of subjects lately. He stopped pacing and looked at Lee, who continued working on his blade.

  “Say something,” Duncan growled.

  “I’ve said my peace, Duncan. We’ve been friends since we were children. My loyalty is with you…and to this war,” Lee replied, testing the sharpness of the blade against his finger. “If you are hellbent on taking the Seer to the caves, then I will make damn sure you make it there in one piece. It’s after we get there that has me worried.”

  Duncan arched one eyebrow.

  “Hawkins has his drones scouring the skies,” Lee said sliding his blade in the scabbard he wore low at his side.

  “So we take two sharpshooters with us and ensure nothing is transmitted back,” Duncan said, dismissing Lee’s concerns with a wave of his hand.

  “One or two missing drones goes unnoticed. A concentration of missing drones...” Lee left the unspoken question hanging in the air.

  Duncan began pacing again. He wasn’t thinking like a warrior. He should be two steps ahead of Hawkins and instead, his mind was focused on the woman who carried his child.

  “You’re going to wear a hole in your boots, Duncan, if you don’t stop,” his second said as if reading his mind. Duncan stopped pacing and glared at his friend.

  “We go to the caves. Bring Cameron and Graves; keep the Templars nearby. I want them sharp; anything that flies close to our group gets shot down. We’ll be in and out before Hawkins has time to notice the activity. If we leave at first light, we can cover most of the ground before the drones are generally in this area.”

  Lee nodded and stood. He straightened his jacket and saluted his friend and commanding officer. Duncan knew his second in command would die trying to protect Caitriona. He only hoped it didn’t come to that.

  “We haven’t practiced this, Duncan,” Caitriona said, standing her ground. She didn’t have a good feeling about this. “Why would you want to try this? Why risk your men?”

  “We’ve got a lot of ground to cover before dark, Caitriona,” he replied, deliberately not answering her questions. “We should keep moving.” He walked to the tree where he had tethered their two horses. Caitriona had agreed to accompany him on a ride, in part because she wanted to feel the warm Mexican sun on her face, and in part, to spend some much-coveted time alone with Duncan. She knew he was worried about her and the fact that she might try to hurt the child growing inside her. She hadn’t been left alone since she found out she was pregnant and it grated on her last nerve. She needed time to herself. Time to think, time to figure out her next move.

  “Duncan, we don’t know how strong my powers are and now you want me in your head? What if I can’t control my power? W
hat if I lose control?” She knew she was firing off questions in rapid succession, but what he was proposing was untested. Last time she felt that much power, she ended up in a heap on her ass with a raging headache. What if they miscalculated? What if they couldn’t draw the power they thought they could? There were too many questions and not enough answers.

  Caitriona mounted the tan mare, sliding her feet into the stirrups and taking the reins from Duncan. Her deep green cotton skirt bunched between her legs showing pale slim calves. “Why are we doing this, Duncan?” She looked at him from under long lashes that framed her green eyes. Her white embroidered blouse was tucked into her skirt. The blouse was cut low, while the sleeves sat just off her shoulders. Tiny flowers had been embroidered across the top. Her hair had been swept up, the curls arranged so that they fell in long ringlets across her bare shoulders. She watched as Duncan’s eyes traced a bead of sweat as it slowly made its way down her cleavage. It was uncomfortably warm, and she was ready to call it a day.

  “Because the child ye carry—our child—deserves a chance at freedom, deserves a chance tae grow tae his potential, deserves a mother and a da who aren’t spending every moment looking over their shoulder.”

  She didn’t say anything. How could she? She hated the child inside her, convinced it was the offspring of the man who had raped her. Even though Duncan had tried to reassure her, she didn’t feel as confident. She refused to think the child could be Duncan’s. Her thoughts once again drifted to suicide—her death would certainly solve several problems. She sighed and pivoted in her saddle, glancing back to where Duncan had mounted and was nudging his horse into a trot.