“I need to ken what ye and Dani can do together. I believe yer abilities are tied together and I’m certain the caves hold the answers. Yer last vision also said as much.” He turned to her and stopped his pacing. “I willna force ye, lass, but I’m asking ye, please give this a try.”
“Duncan, I don’t know what you’re hoping to prove,” she said, exasperated. “We’ve been over this a million times. I can’t control the powers I have and they are weak at best.”
“Nay,” he interjected quickly. “Yer powers simply need tae be developed.”
“You and I both know magic requires discipline and practice for it to mature and gain strength,” she replied, picking her words carefully. “Nicolas may be able to teach me these skills, but it will take years to harness so that it can be controlled and mastered. We simply don’t have that kind of time.”
“Aye,” he said, holding up his hand when she started to interject. “But dinna forget yer last vision. Ye said there was power in three. I’m fairly certain Danika is yer second, possibly yer equal...”
“But nothing happened at the caves,” she interrupted. “I don’t know, Duncan. Maybe we’re going about translating the vision too literally. After all, I did that once before and nearly got us both killed.”
“Aye,” he said, running his hand over stubble that hinted at the full beard that would soon take its place. “Catie, tell me again what happened at the caves. Dinna leave out any details,” he said taking up his methodical pacing once again. He turned and looked at her when she hesitated. “What aren’t ye sharing with me, Catie?” He crossed the room in three easy strides and tilted her face to his.
“Nothing,” she said pulling her face away. She didn’t want him to read the emotion on her face. She had deliberately not told him about the barrage of voices or the energy she felt emanating from the crystals. In truth, she didn’t want to go back to the caves.
“Catie,” he said sharply, grabbing her arm. “What is it?”
She sighed. How much should she tell him? All of it? “What are you hoping to find in the caves, Duncan?” she questioned, deciding for deflection instead.
“Perhaps yer sister’s powers can be amplified if ye both call upon the magic together.”
“I’m not even sure how to go about doing that,” she replied, watching the shadow cross over his handsome features. “Dani seems to be better at tapping into her magical abilities. But from what I saw, her magic was weak there as well.”
“Damnu!” Duncan thundered, his voice echoing in the tall room. “We dinna have the luxury of perfection, lass. We need tae try this. We canna continue to wait for Hawkins to make his move hoping your visions will give us the insights we need when we’re deep intae it.”
“Why not?” she quipped. “That strategy seemed to work well enough for the last battle.” She cringed when she remembered how the visions had barraged her shortly after the fighting had erupted. She didn’t know how to control them but they seemed to arrive at very purposeful moments that allowed them an ever-growing advantage. They had also left her incredibly weak, fatigued, and disoriented.
“Dinna force me tae haul ye tae the caves, lass,” he growled.
“Nicolas might have something to say about that,” she tossed back, knowing the words would cut him to the bone. In truth, she wasn’t quite sure where Nicolas stood. She’d like to think her wellbeing came above any of Duncan’s requests, but she also knew Nicolas was fiercely loyal to the Templar cause—and Duncan.
“Aye,” he growled. He suddenly strode to the door and opened it wide. “LaFelle,” he bellowed. The single word echoed through the long hallway and was almost promptly met by boots on the hard-stone floor.
Duncan held the door open for Nicolas as the younger man cast a wary eye at him and entered the room. Nicolas joined Caitriona, who shook her head and rolled her eyes.
“We leave tomorrow before dawn. Be sure she has the proper gear. I want extra security around her and Dani, always. Yer not to leave her side.” Duncan’s tone was brusque and commanding.
Caitriona could only stare at both men. I guess that answers my question about Nicolas, she thought, her eyes getting glassy. Squaring her small shoulders, she pushed past both men and moved to the door. Pulling open the large, heavy door, she spun around on her heels. She could feel the tears building behind her eyes and hoped she’d be able to hold herself together until she was free of their scrutiny. “Fuck you both,” she said, venom dripping from her voice. Before either man could retort, she fled the room, the tears she’d so courageously held back now coursing down her cheeks and across her heart.
Chapter Twelve
Hawkins spat a stream of tobacco into the mud-crusted earth and pushed his glasses back up his nose. He’d always hated the fact that he had to wear them; it marked him as damaged goods in the eyes of the New World Order. He grimaced as he gingerly touched the place above his eye. The wound had healed but the flesh was still tender and pink, another sign that he was no longer viewed as perfect in the eyes of the Order.
Hawkins pulled open his communicator and read Gawain’s reply again, a sardonic smile forming at the corner of his wrinkled, thin lips. It’s like taking candy from a baby, he gleamed. The bastards were walking right into his hands and they were too naïve to see it. He chuckled, closing the communicator once again. This time next week he would have his eyes on the lovely Caitriona Sinclair while her lover rotted in the earth. He clasped his hands together in anticipation as he thought of how easy his plan had fallen into place.
Fools, he sniggered. He spat another stream of tobacco, swiping the back of his hand across his mouth to wipe away the brown stain that had gathered at the corners of his lips. He placed the communicator on the desk and began pacing. While he had assumed he would be meeting Gawain and his advisors at Castle Dunrobin, Gawain had chosen Naica, Mexico, for the intercession. Hawkins wrinkled his brow. What is Gawain up to? he wondered, his hand unconsciously pushing the wire-rimmed glasses back up his nose.
“Sir?” His second in command interrupted his thoughts.
Hawkins barely glanced at his visitor as he continued his nervous pacing. “Why do you think Gawain chose Naica, Mexico, for intercession?” he asked Billinger, motioning for him to enter and close the door.
“Sir?” his second asked again, clearing his throat. Hawkins could hear the nervousness in his second’s voice. He knew it was a sign that Billinger had bad news to report.
“It’s a simple question, Billinger,” he said, motioning for his second to take a seat across from him. “Why is Gawain insisting we meet in Naica?”
“I can have some of our men begin an investigation,” Billinger stammered. Hawkins loved watching the man squirm. “Our troops have confirmed MacKinnon’s location,” he continued. “It’s simply a matter of time now before we crush MacKinnon’s resistance army and take the woman.”
“I want the girl alive,” Hawkins hissed. “Not one hair on her head is to be harmed. Do I make myself clear?” his voice rose in crescendo. “Don’t. Fuck. This. Up.” Hawkins pounded his fist on the desk to emphasize his words, the few items he had on his desk rattling under the disturbance.
“I’ve already organized the troops per your orders,” Billinger replied. “But…”
Hawkins could hear the hesitation in his second’s voice. The uncertainty rankled him. “Say what’s on your mind, Billinger,” he growled.
“The Order is clear about genetic deviants.” At Hawkins’ inquisitive look, he continued. “We should send a sharp shooter and remove the woman…permanently.” Hawkins watched as the man’s Adam’s apple bobbed with his barely concealed fear.
“Find her and bring her to me,” Hawkins said, his tone low and disapproving. “Do not question me again.”
“As you command,” Hawkins stated, touching his hand to his heart as was the customary salute.
“Oh, and meet me in interrogation in an hour,” Hawkins sneered, as Billinger was about to make his exit from t
he room.
“Sir?” Billinger queried, a nervousness in his voice that Hawkins delighted in hearing.
“And you may want to wear something…disposable.” Hawkins saw the nervous tick in Billinger’s eye and could barely conceal his glee.
“As you command,” Billinger acknowledged, and backed out of the door quickly.
Hawkins smiled and walked to the window, waiting until he saw Billinger emerge onto the plaza below. A sardonic smile splayed across his face as his second glanced nervously toward the window and, catching Hawkins’ eye, nodded and scurried across the plaza until he was out of sight.
Hawkins walked back to the table and righted the glass that had toppled in his earlier outburst. Perhaps Billinger was right, he thought. The girl was growing more powerful by the day and it was unlikely that once he captured her he would be assigned the resources needed to continue her training. After all, the Order held disdain for any type of genetic deviation that tainted the genetic line. Still, his conquest and capture of her was of a personal nature now. He had a score to settle with her and he was not going to let the Order come between him and his revenge. He also wanted to bring MacKinnon to his knees. And what better way to do that than to capture his witch...and turn her to their cause? He shuddered at the delicious thought.
Best to capture her now, he thought. If her powers did prove useful, he could find a way to continue her training. He ran his hand across his bald scalp and fumbled for the tobacco that was nearly always present on his desk. Pinching some of the leaves from the container, he tucked the pinch between his cheek and gum and allowed the euphoria of the nicotine to take its effect. Right now, he had more pressing matters, like trying to discern why Gawain would have requested intercession and parlay in Naica, Mexico. He opened the communication device on his desk, relieved when his hail was answered quickly by his second in command. “Have your men send drones to Naica. I want to know what makes that area so special,” he growled. Before his second could reply, Hawkins disconnected the signal, confident his orders would be carried out.
Soon, he thought. Gawain and his group of miscreants are going to make a mistake and I will be there to collect the spoils.
Chapter Thirteen
Caitriona leaned forward in the saddle, her buttocks sore from the long ride. She shifted her weight to alleviate the pressure building in her backside, but she knew the reprieve would be short-lived. She sighed and resolved to sit up taller in the saddle. She glanced at Dani, who didn’t seem to be at all uncomfortable in the saddle. On the contrary, her sister moved as if one with the magnificent dappled gelding who snorted and tossed his head derisively, longing to be given the freedom to run.
Nicolas rode next to her, framed by her four ever-present body guards. She cast a sideways glance at him and noticed he had eyes for only one thing: Danika. While Nicolas was younger than her sister, the two were equally matched in spirit. Theirs would be a good match, she thought. Besides, if Nicolas and Dani became interested in each other, perhaps she could alter the outcome of her vision. For the first time that day, a smile lit her face.
Caitriona didn’t need to turn around in her saddle to know that Duncan and his handful of loyal Templars were close at hand behind her. She had felt his presence from the moment they started their journey. They hadn’t spoken since their heated exchange the day before, and she wasn’t sure she wanted to. She knew she was better off focusing on a way home than sifting through the mercurial mood swings of the formidable warrior.
The caves were a half-day ride ahead of them and only accessible on foot or horseback. While a shuttle craft could have brought them there in a fraction of the time, it also would have alerted the Order to their plans. For all their technology, they really do live in the past, she reflected.
About 400 meters in front of them, she could just make out Lee, his leopard Appaloosa unmistakable even at a distance. He was flanked on either side by two Templars. She knew the extra guards were for her protection, but still, she felt stifled by so many men. While Duncan insisted she ride with a gun strapped to her hip, she preferred the small dagger she kept hidden in her boot. Having grown up in the martial arts, she felt more competent with the smaller weapon and a reliance on her own fighting abilities. She’d never had to test her fighting abilities until she came to this century; now, it seemed, there was a never-ending barrage of opportunities.
She groaned as Daisy, the usually sure-footed mare she was riding, stumbled and jolted her roughly to the right. Pulling a little too tightly on the reins, the horse reared its head and snorted loudly. She leaned forward and gave the sweet horse a pat on the neck, resolving to be a better rider. “You are a sweet thing,” she whispered to the mare. “But I will be glad when my feet can once again touch the ground.” The horse nickered at her as if acknowledging the heartfelt words.
“Do you want a break, chérie?” Nicolas called to her.
Damn bond, she thought with growing irritation. She knew Nicolas had tapped into her feelings. She didn’t think she would ever get used to having him so deeply and intimately connected to her. She shook her head as she caught Dani’s eye. Her sister quickly reined in her mount and pulled up next to her.
“It can be quite tiring if you’re not used to the saddle,” her sister stated. “We can stop,” she said, but there was disappointment in her voice.
“I’m good. Really,” Caitriona replied. “I’d rather we just get there.”
Relief washed across Dani’s face as she gave her horse a slight nudge and trotted on ahead. Nicolas seemed disappointed to see her go.
“How much farther, Nicolas?” she asked, afraid that she would crumble if he told her it was more than an hour.
“About 40 minutes. We can stop…”
She cut him off with a wave of her hand. “I’m good.” She gave Daisy a quick squeeze of her thighs and trotted ahead of him, glad to be by herself once again. As if I’m ever truly alone, she thought, irritation threatening her already sour mood.
For the next half hour, she rode in silence, her thoughts drifting to Hawkins and his obsession with her. Did he know the extent of her power? Did he know about Danika? And what of her vision of Duncan and Danika? If she didn’t assume a literal translation of the vision, why—or how—would the two of them end up naked and in each other’s arms? The obvious answer was too painful for her to consider so she pushed it away to the darkest corner of her mind where it would gather dust. If only I could see the vision again, she thought.
She smiled as inspiration hit her. She shifted once again in the saddle and took a deep breath. Allowing her eyes to focus on the distant mountain, she relaxed her mind and concentrated on finding the familiar ribbons that foreshadowed a vision. She knew it was a long shot but at least it helped her pass the growing time.
She was just about to give up when she saw a flash of magenta and gold. Focusing on the two ribbons, she mentally wove them together, until a thin blue tendril joined the pattern. Braiding and unbraiding the various colors, she concentrated on this simple task until she was transported into her vision, the clarity so real, so responsive that she felt like she was there.
Caitriona lost herself to the vision, her hands letting go of the reins as her mind focused on the vision that, for her, was very much reality. She was only peripherally aware that Nicolas had grabbed her now-forgotten reins, pulling her mount to a stop.
“Why?” Caitriona whispered, her mind seeing Duncan and Dani naked, wrapped in each other’s arms. There was longing on Duncan’s face as he buried his face against Dani’s hair and inhaled deeply. Dani’s brow furrowed but Duncan continued stroking her back, his fingers playing lightly up and down her spine. Dani cupped his face in her hands and leaned forward, whispering something in his ear.
Dani suddenly looked up at Caitriona and locked eyes with her. She looked pained, and her eyes were bright with unshed tears. “Do it,” she shouted at Caitriona. “You know you have to. What are you waiting for?”
Caitrio
na’s eyes grew big with fear when the sgian dubh she kept tucked in her boot was suddenly in her hands. She could only stare, horrified, as she grasped the little dagger in both hands and lurched forward. She knew what was coming but she was paralyzed to stop. She was part of the vision and she knew this was going to play out whether she wanted it to or not.
Danika watched as Caitriona raised her hand and plunged the dagger deep into Duncan’s back. He gasped, pushing Danika away from him, his mind registering the gaping wound that was now turning the ground beneath him a dark, grisly red. He looked up at Danika, his eyes incredulous. His lips tried to form words as he fell to the floor.
Caitriona dropped the knife and stumbled back, her sister watching as the stain continued to grow. A low scream bubbled up from deep inside her and erupted, shattering the image and slamming her back into her day-world. Her hands reached out to bring the phantom Duncan and Danika back, but she grasped only air as she pitched forward in the saddle. Strong arms caught her and eased her to the ground. She couldn’t seem to feel her legs beneath her and she started to crumble. Once again, she was scooped into strong arms that were altogether too familiar.
“Ciunas,” Duncan whispered against her ear.
She cried out and tried to push away. She couldn’t be with him right now. She needed time to process her vision and what it meant. She struggled again, this time in earnest.
“I’m ok, really,” she implored. “Let me down.” She succeeded in pushing against his chest until he set her on her feet. This time she focused on getting her bearings, staring at her feet and willing herself to stay upright. She felt a little wobbly but just needed to get back in the saddle. Nicolas touched her elbow and she grasped his hand. “I’ll be alright. Just help me get up in the saddle.”
Dark Gathering Page 9
