Stunned by what Elric had done, Kate dropped his cloak to the floor and cast her shift aside, each tiny hair on her body lifting in a shiver of anticipation. With a soft moan, she stepped into the tub and slid into its silky depths.
The water cradled her as the gentle aromas soothed her jagged nerves. Pleasure, as intoxicating as wine, rushed through her veins. She took a breath and sank beneath the surface, working her fingers over her scalp before coming up for air. Then, throwing caution aside, she settled back, closed her eyes, and allowed her mind the freedom to wander.
Without assent, it wandered straight to the belly of the dragon and flung open the door.
Kate felt herself backing away from Elric, sidestepping a dark pool of blood on the floor. Caught unawares, it took a moment for her to understand what was happening.
A vision.
Fear and intrigue, in equal measure, caused her heart to race. Whose blood lay spattered on the ground? Did she want to know? She had no choice, it seemed. The vision lured her in and compelled her to watch as events, not yet seen or experienced, unfolded.
Kate whimpered and headed toward the stone staircase. “Christ forgive you, Elric. I must leave. I won't stay here any longer.”
His response blew past her like an icy wind. “Is that so? Where will you go then, little one? Out there, into the darkness? We have been through this. You know you would never find your way without me.”
She glanced at him, brushing tears from her eyes. “I don't care. I'll take my chances.”
Yet she hesitated, her feet anchored by fear of what lay beyond the door at the top of the stairs. She whimpered again, sickened by the fallacy of her threats.
“Wise decision.” Elric's hand folded around her arm as he nodded toward the pool of blood. “Do not waste time mourning him. He deserved to die. You belong with me, Katherine. No one else will ever –”
He snatched a sudden, sharp breath, at the same time lifting his gaze toward the door. His eyes widened, then narrowed as a growl like that of a feral beast resonated around the ancient walls. Kate tried to turn, desperate to see what or who stood on the threshold of the dragon's belly. But, for reasons that only existed in nightmares, she couldn't move.
The gleam in Elric's eyes hardened to steel and he lifted his lip in a snarl as he pushed her away. She stumbled, her head striking the stone floor. The world around her spun, yet above the shock and pain, she heard someone call her name.
“Kate!”
Sweet mercy, how she had prayed to hear that voice. She replied, choking on a sob of gratitude and relief.
“Owen!”
Kate opened her eyes and clamped a hand over her mouth, cursing inwardly at her carelessness. Had Elric heard her cry? She sat up, sloshing water over the edge of the tub, listening for a sound outside the door. The vision had taken her by surprise, arriving unbidden and without suggestion. Whose blood? Whose? Not Owen's. He had been there. She had heard his voice. And the growl. Lio, perhaps?
Perhaps.
But where, then, was her father? Had the blood been his? She buried her face in her hands. No. Please, God, no.
A wisp of stagnant air wafted into the perfumed space and Kate knew without looking that Elric had entered the chamber. Aware of her weakened mental state, she gathered her thoughts. Her physical nakedness was of no consequence, but her mind, laid bare, was vulnerable.
“Are you alright, Katherine?” A hint of concern rang in his words.
She lifted a bold gaze to his. “Merely a little overcome,” she said, “by your kindness.”
“I have no desire to treat you otherwise.” His eyes flicked over her shoulders and breasts. “I've brought your clothes. You will dress now.”
Discomforted by his scrutiny, Kate crossed her arms over her chest, praying he would not see the turmoil that raged beneath her benign expression. “Then please allow me the privacy to do so,” she replied.
He nodded and turned to leave, but paused to look back at her, a small frown creasing his brow. That simple anomaly, on a face that never displayed emotion, threaded a chill down Kate's spine.
He approached the edge of the tub, looming over her like a midnight shadow, his eyes searching her face. “What are you hiding, Katherine?”
She shrank back, her denial erupting in a scream as his hand plunged into the water and grabbed her wrist.
“What...are you hiding?” He hauled her upright, his fingers like a steel manacle on her arm. His other hand grasped her jaw so hard she bit her tongue. Hot tears flooded her eyes, and Elric's lip lifted in a snarl. “You dare to deceive me? Foolish little witch. Today's lesson is this, then. What you refuse to give, I shall take.”
His assault tore through her subconscious, probing with an intensity that blinded her to any coherent thought. Frantic, she scratched at his hand, pulling at his fingers as she tasted blood. But, if anything, his grip tightened. A moment later, the muscle beneath his scar twitched, and for the first time Kate saw a flush of colour arise in his pale face.
“The son of Madoc,” he said. “He rides with your father? And you...you have feelings for him?”
Unable to speak, she whimpered, still tugging at his fingers.
He spat out a curse and pulled her against him with a harshness that forced the breath from her lungs. The Triskelion, cold and hard, pressed against her wet skin.
Elric's mouth hovered over hers and whispered words she had once heard from Owen. At that time, they had warmed her heart. Now they filled her with dread.
“He will not have you, Katherine. Not while I still live.”
Then I pray you die.
The thought flew through Kate's mind like an unleashed arrow and Elric flinched. She knew he had heard it, felt it. His face returned to its ghost-like pallor as he lowered her back into the water.
“You will dress now, little one,” he said, his voice all at once calm. Indeed, he bent and touched his fingers to her cheek with unsettling gentleness. “I shall return momentarily.”
The door closed – its quiet click the catalyst for Kate's emotional release.
A sob burst from her, carried on a gasp of captive air that escaped her lungs. She snatched breath after breath, her head spinning in the aftermath of Elric's assault. It had been a vicious attack on an acute and deeply intimate level.
“You're incapable of hate,” he had said. Not so. At that moment, she hated Elric with an intensity that shook her.
Still sobbing, she stepped out of the bath to see a neat pile of clothing and towels on the floor nearby. He had even brought a hairbrush and ribbons for her hair. Somehow, the sight of them exemplified Elric's despotic control of her life, and stoked her burning hate further.
“He fears you, Katherine. You are stronger than he. Resist him.”
The mysterious voice, timely in its arrival, echoed around the small space. Her sobbing ceased, replaced by a sharp-edged resentment and a growing determination to fight. After dressing, she snatched up her brush and pulled vigorous strokes through her hair. With each one, she felt stronger, more resolved. She would not be subdued. She would never belong to him.
Soon after, the door opened and Elric, grasping a single candle, offered his hand.
“Come,” he said, his impassive expression restored.
Kate threw him a cold glance and stepped past him into the tunnel, pushing his outstretched hand away. She heard the door close behind her, which cut off the soft glow from inside the chamber. Darkness all but suppressed the tiny flame burning in Elric's hand, and Kate felt a twinge of fear. Yet, when he stepped to her side and took her hand in his, she pulled it free.
He let out a small sigh. “You do not want my guidance, then?”
Kate sniffed and walked ahead of him. “I want nothing from you, Elric. I shall endeavour always to resist you. I hate you.”
He paused in his stride and she stopped too, unwilling to travel beyond the periphery of candlelight. “It's this way,” he said, and she turned to see a tunnel branching off to the left, one s
he had not even noticed.
“What a dismal hell this is,” she muttered, pushing past him once again, “and you the devil within it.”
He fell into step behind her. “Put your verbal dagger away, Katherine.”
“Would that I had a real one. I would plunge it into your cold heart.”
“Not wise. You would never find your way out of this dismal hell if you killed the devil within it. You need me.”
The calmness of his voice pricked her, as did the wretched truth in his words.
She spun round and glared at him, speaking through gritted teeth. “I need nothing from you. Nothing.”
The only warmth in Elric's dark eyes was the reflection of the candle flame, which danced as Kate spoke. He inhaled a soft breath...and blew. Kate blinked as the flame died, waiting to hear a strike and see the flare of tinder. But all she heard was Elric's voice, already fading into the distance, uttering words that struck terror into her heart.
“Then find your own way back.”
Blackness, suffocating and thick, wrapped around her like a blanket.
“Elric, no. Wait!” Her voice echoed off the walls and drifted off into oblivion. “Elric, I beg of you. Please light the flame.”
Terrified, she reached out, flailing as a blind person might. She found the wall, damp beneath her touch, and groped her way along it.
“Please,” she sobbed, her resolve crushed beneath the weight of terror. “You know I can't...I can't bear this. I'll do anything you ask of me. Please, oh please. Don't leave me here.”
Only silence answered, its harrowing presence driving Kate to her knees. Trapped by darkness and tortured by fear, she curled into a ball and wept until not a single tear remained. Over and again she called Elric's name, begging for his response. As her spirit surrendered to despair, her need of him devolved into something primitive. Only he, after all, could hear her cries. Only he could save her.
Which was why, when he came to her at last and lifted her from the cold stone floor, she clung to him like a drowning soul to driftwood.
“Tell me you need me,” he murmured, stroking tendrils of damp hair back from her face. “Say it.”
“I need you,” she whispered, her lips trembling against the pulsing warmth of his throat. “Never leave me again. Never.”
“I won't,” he said. “I swear it.”
~ ~
Elric lay on his bed of fur listening to the muffled roar of waves pounding the rocks. The eternal rhythm calmed him, drawing cool familiar ice back into his heated veins. Emotions, long since forsaken, had stirred within him that night. He had kicked them aside like stray dogs, refusing to listen to their pathetic whines. They lingered yet, sensing his weakness, waiting to devour what remained of his indifference.
In torturing Katherine, Elric had come close to torturing himself. Cloaked in darkness, he'd waited nearby after leaving her in the tunnel and listened to the sound of her terror. At first, her desperate cries had torn at his conscience like claws, but he battled his foolish compassion and tightened the shield around his heart. She had to learn that he would not tolerate disobedience or deceit. She had to understand that she belonged to him. Only him.
Long ago, another had come close to breaching the shield surrounding Elric's heart. But Adela had fallen in love with an English knight, and borne that man's child – a daughter.
A daughter who now slept in Elric’s arms, her head nestled against his shoulder, a small pale hand resting on his chest. It was an ironic and consummate victory.
Since eliciting Katherine's declaration of need, he had remained at her side. Or perhaps it was more accurate to say she had remained at his, refusing to let him place more than half a dozen steps between them. Even as she slept she held him captive – a stimulating reversal of circumstance. Any attempt to untangle himself from her grasp was countered by her waking and crying out in alarm, tightening her hold on him.
In all his life, Elric had never felt such need from another. It was a possessive sensation that aroused him, a temporal response unfamiliar to his disciplined mind. Not that he any intention of satisfying his body's carnal demands. Katherine's virtue had to be intact, or the ancient secret she'd inherited would never surface.
He held his breath as a question drifted into his musing.
Has the son of Madoc already taken her?
Even now, the knowledge that she had feelings for the Welshman set Elric's blood surging afresh. He'd seen but a glimpse of the images buried in Katherine's mind - two men sharing a futile quest, wandering aimlessly across the face of Mann.
A face that did not betray Katherine's location. This pagan labyrinth, long abandoned and forgotten, would never be discovered.
No, he decided. The Welshman had not touched her. The girl was yet pure.
Self-comforted, Elric pushed his irrational worries aside. In less than two days he would have what he craved above all else. After that, if he still desired her, he would make Katherine his. Completely.
He felt her stir and turned to see her wide, dark eyes fixed on his face. There was much to see in those eyes – confusion, fear – and a startling measure of trust. The shield around his heart shook as if struck by a lance.
Katherine's eroded voice struggled to function. “I... I have questions.”
He acknowledged her statement with a slow blink. “Ask them.”
“Is what I see in my visions certain to happen?” A breath shuddered from her lips. “Or can the future be changed?”
Unbidden, his arm tightened around her – a compassionate response that he instantly regretted. How did she manage to beguile him so easily? Curse you, little witch.
“Nothing in the future is certain,” he said. “Therein lies the true value of your gift, for what you predict, or perhaps the outcome of it, can potentially be changed.”
She dropped her gaze, eyelashes fluttering as she pondered his response. “I consider it a curse, this...this ability of mine,” she said, raising her eyes to his again. “Can I be rid of it?”
“No more than you can be rid of your heart and still live,” he replied. “But you can control it, calm it. You possess the ability. It does not possess you.”
A frown marred the flawless skin of her brow.
“What prompts these questions?” Elric asked, resisting the urge to enter her mind. Driven by anger, his recent assault on her thoughts had been too harsh – dangerous, even. Her mental balance, he knew, had been tested to the limit.
A moment passed. “While I was alone in the darkness,” she said at last, tracing a fingertip around the medallion on Elric's chest, “I tried to see my own future.”
His hand covered hers, stopping her quiet exploration of the silver spirals. “That was not wise, Katherine.”
“No, it was not. Since it appears I do not have one.”
A chill trickled down his spine. He rose onto an elbow and looked down at her. “Why do you say that? What did you see?”
“Nothing. I saw nothing.” Her eyes were fixed on the medallion, which now dangled in front of her. She touched it again, her fingertips circling the spirals in a reverent caress. “Are you going to kill me, Elric?”
Something twisted in his gut. He searched for the denial that surely must come, wondering why it had not leapt from his mouth the moment she'd asked the question. Ah, but he knew why. Deep down, he knew why.
“He will not have you, Katherine. Not while I still live.”
Then I pray you die.
The truth lashed him like a whip. He could manipulate her mind, steal her magic. He might even shackle her soul. But it was the other – the son of Madoc – who held her heart.
Elric would not – could not – allow himself to feel. There would be no pain if he did not feel. Had he not learned that lesson long ago? Did he not bear the scars to prove it?
“I have no wish to kill you.” His voice sounded detached, unemotional.
Unfeeling.
“But should anyone try to take you from me,
I would never...” He faltered, his attention stolen by the trail of an errant tear across her cheek. He lowered his lips to taste her sorrow, and a sensation he did not recognize stirred beneath his ribs. Strange. Her tears tasted like honey. He hardened even as he whispered in her ear. “I would never let them take you alive.”
Chapter 19
The gnarled bark of the oak tree pressed bony knuckles into Owen's spine, a painful reminder that he was still alive. It also meant he still felt something beyond the numbing desperation and utter fatigue that burdened his spirit.
He gazed at the night sky through the crown of the forest, its black canvas strewn with a bushel of stars, twinkling and pulsating around a three-quarter moon. Once in a while a star would fall, leaving a brilliant trail across the vastness before vanishing forever.
Kate had vanished too, her bright and beautiful light gone from the world without a trace.
For nigh on seven days they had searched. Valleys had been scoured, rivers crossed, mountains scaled and beaches combed. They had snatched sleep beneath the stars, followed deer paths through the forest and taken shelter in damp caves. They had questioned dozens of people – hundreds perhaps – but no one had seen anything untoward. There had been no sign and there had been no news.
It was as if Elric did not exist.
The weather, too, had worked against them. Rain, without mercy, had washed the land clean. Lio, curled up at Owen's feet, had caught rabbit and pheasant to assuage his hunger, but had found naught else.
Owen glanced at John, who sat nearby – his dark silhouette leaning against the trunk of another ancient oak. Like Owen, he rarely slept. Indeed, John Harrington rarely even spoke anymore. With the ferocity of a wasting disease, the past six days had eaten away at the English knight. Owen had watched him surrender to the onslaught of guilt and anguish, his heart broken beneath a burden of grief.
At dawn, they would begin searching again, looking for that elusive penny in the ploughed field. Owen swallowed over a lump in his throat. Hope, like sand through a child's fingers, had all but trickled away. There was little more than a day left until the solstice. If they didn't find Kate tomorrow...
Triskelion Page 18
