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 21^st century.