Hawkins stared at the lifeless eyes of the rabbit whose usually pristine white fur was now covered in blood. The pink eyes stared up at him as he spat a stream of tobacco next to it, the brown juice staining the snow that had fallen sometime during the night. Hawkins’ boot flipped the rabbit out of his sight over the embankment where it would soon be a meal for an animal unlucky enough to be caught in the cold. He eyed the blood coating the tip of his boot. Disgusted, he dragged the top of his shoe through the snow, trying to remove the stain from his otherwise perfectly polished shoes. He eyed his handiwork with disdain.

Capturing MacKinnon’s witch had been too easy. He had wanted more of a challenge, more fight from her. After all, she had been his prisoner once before. He smiled wickedly at the earlier memories.

He shook his head at her stupidity. She’d walked right into their trap. A lopsided grin took over his face as he remembered how easy it had been for his man to convince her that he was granting her safe passage home. It was even easier for Hawkins to separate Caitriona from Duncan and her other guard, LaFelle. He laughed out loud, envisioning the look on MacKinnon’s face as he realized his witch was missing and that Hawkins, once again, had proven his adversarial superiority.

Hawkins pulled his stocking cap down over his ears, which were turning red from the exposure to the cold. He looked up as a pine tree, overburdened from a layer of snow, sprang free from the weight and dropped its snowy load to the ground below. Hawkins glanced nervously around, ensuring his soldiers were alert and in sight. He wasn’t taking any chances. This time he planned to carry out his plans for the genetically inferior woman who would soon be his to abuse and control.

He glanced up as he caught sight of one of his soldiers making his way toward him. His gait was clipped and Hawkins could see, even at this distance, that the young soldier was agitated. As the soldier came within shouting distance, he saluted, his right hand briefly touching his chest, snapping forward at eye height before lowering to his side.

“Sir,” the soldier shouted. The sound was flat as it was swallowed by the deep drifts of snow.

Hawkins stared at the young soldier but didn’t acknowledge him any more than he would have acknowledged a stranger who entered a room. He could see the irritation spread on the soldier’s face as he was forced to close the distance.

“The woman is coming around,” the soldier said as he stopped several feet in front of Hawkins. “Do you want us to keep her sedated?” Hawkins watched as the soldier’s breath rose in white wisps in front of him. He had forgotten how cold it could get in D.C. He missed the hot desert of Mexico.

“No,” Hawkins stated. He was annoyed by this man and he wasn’t sure why. He spat another stream of tobacco into the snow and watched as it stained the ground brown. “Make sure she’s secured. I want two guards on her at all times.”

“Sir. Are two guards necessary? She hardly looks like she can stand.”

“You’re questioning a senior officer?” Hawkins’ upper lip curled as he fought to control his rage. He should kill the insubordinate whelp.

“No, sir,” the young man stammered, saluting awkwardly. He turned and all but ran back the way he came. Hawkins spat once more and started back to the historical building he was calling home. He exhaled a large breath and watched as it dissipated in the cold November air. A grin settled across his harsh features as he thought of the lovely Caitriona Sinclair and the magical power that would soon be his to control.

* * *

“There is nothing I admire more than misplaced courage in the face of overwhelming opposition,” Hawkins whispered in Caitriona’s ear as his hand cupped her breast through the torn fabric of the thin gown she wore. “It’s a shame, really. But there can be no progress without sacrifice,” Hawkins added sadistically as he squeezed her breast hard, a sneer curling his lips as Caitriona cried out and pulled against the chains that held her hands bound above her head to a thick ring protruding from the cemented ceiling.

“Duncan will kill you, Hawkins,” she said, a mulish expression on her face as she tugged again on her chains. Her feet were shackled to the floor, her legs splayed wide. Her dress was dirty and stained with her blood. It’s exactly as he wanted to see her. At least for a little while, he thought as his eyes lingered on her exposed breast. He was willing to bet she’d look a whole lot worse after he finished with her.

“Empty threats, my sweet witch,” he hissed. “You and I both know that.” He walked behind her and ripped the remnants of her dress so that her backside was exposed. She struggled in earnest as he ran his hand across the smooth skin of her back, pausing just above her buttocks. He picked up the cat o’nine whip that lay hanging just out of her sight. He licked his lips as he slowly ran the whip across his hand. He was going to enjoy this. Flicking the whip behind him he laughed as it sailed forward and slashed across her buttocks and thighs. Caitriona screamed and arched her back as her body sought to escape the sting of the leather. His eyes followed a trail of blood as it made its way down her leg. Crossing in front of her, he stroked the leather against her cheek, delighted when her sharp intake of breath gave away her fear. Her eyes blazed with fury as she pulled her upper lip in tight to her teeth.

Hawkins watched her like a cat watches a mouse. He knew better than to underestimate this woman, yet the way she provoked him made him want to bring her to heel.

Caitriona pulled hard against her restraints, fixing him with a piercing glare. His heartbeat accelerated and he could feel himself grow hard. Her hair was wild, disheveled from her abduction, and fell in glorious curls down her pale back. The deep auburn locks looked even darker against her pale skin.

“Tell me what you see, witch,” Hawkins hissed.

“A man who’s small-minded, bigoted, and afraid that his men will see him for the pretender that he is,” she susurrated. A smug smile settled across her face.

Hawkins could feel the ire in him grow. He drew his hand back and slapped her hard, instantly gratified as a trickle of blood beaded at the corner of her perfectly shaped mouth.

“Do you know what happens to people who keep secrets from me?”

“I will never tell you anything,” she spat.

“A noble gesture on your part, my pet. But you will soon learn to come to heel.”

She glared at him, tugging harder against her restraints. Blood oozed from under the chains where they bit into her tender flesh.

“Where am I?” she demanded.

“Let’s just say I’ve brought you here…as my guest, ma chérie.”

“What did you do to my guards?”

“You mean the murderers and traitors you call friends?” He made a tsking sound as he shook his head. “You are a long way from them, my pet. So you’d better start cooperating or your time here is going to be most unenjoyable.” He gripped her face in his hands and kissed her, roughly forcing her lips apart so he could taste the fear on her tongue. When she tried to bite him, he withdrew and smacked her hard across her face, watching as her head lolled backward. He’d have to be more careful. He didn’t want her unconscious again.

She spat at him, but he simply reached into his back pocket and withdrew a handkerchief that he swiped across the spittle. He folded it slowly, deliberately taking his time to tuck it back into his pocket. “Tell me about your time in the Mexican caves.” His voice was even and controlled.

“And why would I ever do that?” she spat.

“You know I will eventually get whatever information I want from you, ma chérie, so why not make this easier on yourself. Perhaps we could even grow…fond…of one another.”

She screamed and lunged at him, the chains hindering her efforts to reach him. He moved behind her and put his hand over her mouth to stifle the screams. He pinched her hard, enjoying the feel of her flesh as it bruised beneath his hand.

“You, of all people, Caitriona, know what I am capable of,” he purred against her ear. “Why do you wish to push my temper?” He released his hand from her mouth, curious to see what she would do.

“You fucking son-of-a-bitch,” she growled.

“I know you have powers, you fucking witch,” he yelled. “You don’t think word of your visionary prowess has spread? You are a stupid, silly child.”

“Perhaps,” she sneered at him. “But I will never tell you anything. You can torture me to death. You will get nothing from me.”

“We shall see about that, my sweet witch.” He removed his jacket and pulled his handkerchief from his pocket. Spitting into the dirty cloth, he swiped the handkerchief across her mouth, effectively clearing the blood that had begun to dry on her lips and cheeks.

Caitriona twisted away from him. “You are a weak man, Hawkins, and you will never win this war.”

Hawkins continued wiping, deliberately holding her head still while he roughly dug at her cheeks and brow. “My dear, why should we be enemies? Why waste the energy and conflict when we could achieve so much more by cooperating?”

“You’re contemptible, Hawkins. I won’t be any part of your plans.”

“You’re already part of them.” He tucked the handkerchief back in his pocket and stepped back to survey his handiwork. It wouldn’t do to have his soldiers see her half naked and in disarray. He picked up his jacket and placed it awkwardly around her shoulders, the shackles making it nearly impossible to keep the jacket in place.

“You will serve my will, Caitriona. Make no mistake. It would be much wiser of you to join me and take advantage of all that I can offer. You may even find you enjoy having the kind of power I can bestow upon you.”

“I can assure you I care nothing for the power you so foolishly chase. Go fuck yourself,” she spat at him. He stepped aside and watched as the spittle darkened the concrete floor.

“You are a foolish girl to insist on making this a battle.”

“It’s a battle I intend to win, Hawkins.”

“Brave words, nothing more.”

“They’re more than brave words and you know it. Duncan’s men have been fighting you for years and they are wearing you down. Your armies are becoming more unstable every day; your men are losing confidence in you and this war you fight. You can’t stand that I represent hope and as more people hear about the Templars’ victories, more of your soldiers will defect and the ones who don’t will be slaughtered.” She glared at him, the venom dripping from her words. “You will be left with nothing.”

“The pain will be more than you can bear, Caitriona.”

She hitched her breath but didn’t back down. “I’ve suffered pain all my life. It will take more than this to take me down.” Her emerald eyes threw green daggers at him as he stared into their bottomless depths. She really was a beautiful woman. It was almost a shame that she would leave him no choice but to continue torturing her if she didn’t cooperate soon. And he really hated seeing her beautiful skin marred with imperfections.

“You’re a monster, Hawkins. I have no compassion for you.”

“And I don’t need any, my sweet, sweet pet.” He ran the back of his knuckles against her cheek, marveling at the smoothness of her skin. Placing his hand under her chin, he raised her face so that she was looking at him. “What I need from you, my dear, I will soon have.”

“You may have my body, Hawkins, but you will never have my magic or my soul. I won’t surrender either. I will go to the grave before I do.”

“Why resist and try to fight me, my dear, when I will eventually have what I want?”

“Duncan will never stop trying to defeat you and there’s nowhere you can go to escape my magic. I will be relentless.” The last statement was deliberate and he knew it. She looked him in his eyes and he saw the cold depths of what he knew she could deliver.

Retrieving the cat o’nine tails from the wall once again, he pulled the jacket from her shoulders and placed it over the chair. “We shall see, my pet. We shall see.”