Caitriona sank to the ground, glad to be off her feet and out of the sun. Her skirt billowed around her, the crisp white blouse clinging to her skin, which was damp with perspiration. Closing her eyes, she placed her hand over her eyes, shielding them from the glare of the mid-day sun. When a shadow blocked out the rays, she opened her eyes to find Duncan standing in front of her.

“Drink this,” he said, handing her his canteen. He’d already twisted off the lid. Propping herself on one elbow she took the proffered canteen and drank greedily, thankful for the cool water that felt refreshing after their long walk. She handed back the canteen, plopping herself on the ground once more.

Duncan set his pack nearby and sat down on the ground next to her. They sat in comfortable silence for several minutes, neither daring to break the reverie of the space around them. Duncan reached out and brushed the hair from her eyes. She smiled, unsure of his feelings. His mercurial mood swings were enough to give her whiplash and today she had no energy to deal with his highs and lows.

“How are you feeling?” he asked.

She almost said something snarky, but then thought better of it. She could tell from his tone that he was worried about her. And why shouldn’t he be? she thought. He knows I don’t want to be here.

“I’ve been better,” she replied, not taking her eyes from his.

“Give me just a few hours here, lass, and I promise ye we can leave.”

She nodded, although she wasn’t feeling up to the task ahead of her. Duncan had finally told her what he was planning: that they were meeting Nicolas and Danika. They wanted to test their degrees of power as they got closer to the caves and in various combinations. Duncan was convinced that her vision had already proven they were all somehow intertwined. They simply needed to test the right combinations. Caitriona wasn’t convinced.

“When are they supposed to get here?” she asked, hoping for a reprieve.

“We’re early,” he replied, kicking out his feet and stretching out next to her.

She closed her eyes again, enjoying the feel of the sun on her face. She pulled a deep breath through her nose and exhaled slowly through her mouth. The fresh air felt good and helped to quell the nausea that was never too far away. Duncan reached over and threaded his fingers through hers. She didn’t open her eyes but gave his hand a tiny squeeze, the energy from his body leaping to life as it found hers.

Duncan pulled her next to him, releasing her hand so that she could snuggle next to his body, her head resting on his chest. She listened to the steady beat of his heart, her breathing rising and falling to his. He was warm, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. This is where she belonged, her body knew it, even as her heart denied him. He ran his fingers through her hair letting it fall in glorious auburn sheets over her shoulders.

She relaxed and continued her deep breathing exercises, focusing on the familiar ribbons that sat at the edge of her inner vision. She played with the ribbons, winding and unwinding them with her mind as they gave way to the image that would soon take its place. She gasped as Hawkins emerged, his leering grin staring at her as if he was next to her. She wanted to run, but heard Duncan whisper softly in her ear. She couldn’t understand the Gaelic words, but the sound of his voice gave her a strength she rarely possessed.

Hawkins cackled with glee as he whipped the cat-o-nine tails out in front of him, the resounding crack whipping against the air. She shook as the memories of what he’d done to her came flooding back. Hawkins ran the edge of the whip against her cheek, the sharp barbs pricking her tender flesh. She touched her cheek and pulled her fingers away to see them coated in blood. She whimpered and tried to back away from him only to come up short against a hard wall. She looked down and saw her feet shackled, her arms incapable of moving.

Crying out, she struggled against the restraints. She could feel the tears streaming down her cheeks and mixing with her blood as Hawkins unfastened his pants, stroking himself as his erection sprang to life. He dropped the cat-o-nine tails and tore her bodice, exposing her breasts. His fingers cruelly pinched her nipples as he pushed the head of himself against her entrance. She screamed, the sound tearing from her throat and deafening everything around her.

She felt a nudge inside her head and, for a fleeting moment, was terrified that Hawkins had climbed inside her head. But then she heard a familiar voice, too quiet and too far away for her to understand.

* * *

Nicolas stopped walking, his body rigid as he felt Caitriona’s distress. He closed his eyes, trying to sort through the plethora of emotion that nearly drowned him. Opening his eyes, he nodded at Dani, whose concern showed in the furrow of her brow. “Quickly,” he told her, nearly running as he used Caitriona’s feelings as a tracking device. He knew they were close. Where was Duncan? he wondered. Had the Order attacked or captured them?

He was peripherally aware of Dani’s concern, but he couldn’t be distracted right now. Caitriona needed him. While his mind sent her reassuring thoughts, his eyes darted around the desert landscape looking for the Order’s men. He could hear Danika breathing hard to keep up behind him, but he couldn’t stop.

Climbing his way over a rocky area, he stopped when he saw Duncan and Caitriona lying on the ground. His charge was struggling against the commander, but Duncan held her tight. The warrior spotted him just as Danika popped into view, nearly colliding with Nicolas from behind.

“She’s having a vision,” Duncan said, his tone flat.

“She’s in distress,” Nicolas quipped, rushing to her side, his momentary shock subsiding as he realized they weren’t in any real danger.

Nicolas dropped to his knees beside Caitriona and took one of her hands in his. He rubbed her fingers gently. Closing his eyes, he connected with her energy and was rewarded with the image of Hawkins as she was witnessing him. He almost severed the connection, this latest ability something he was unprepared for. He leaned in close to Caitriona. “None of this is real, dear heart. You are with your friends and Hawkins is a very long way from here.” He felt her relax but the image continued to play out before him.

Danika knelt beside her sister, pulling Caitriona’s other hand into hers, completing their link. Nicolas nodded as the images became clearer. The power of three, he mumbled. The savior they were all looking for wasn’t one singular person, but the combination of their abilities, their will.

He watched as Hawkins licked Caitriona’s face and pawed at her exposed flesh. In the vision, she fought like a wild cat; but in reality, her hands barely moved. She whimpered as Hawkins’ intent became clear. Nicolas watched, helpless and horrified as Hawkins tore the black gown from her until it was tangled between her legs. Cupping her mound through her panties, Hawkins roughly fingered her through the silky material. Caitriona screamed again, an ear-piercing, catatonic wail that made Nicolas’ hair stand on end.

“Wake her, Nicolas,” Dani pleaded with him.

“Nay,” Duncan growled. Nicolas could see the twitch in Duncan’s jaw as he wrestled with his sense of duty and obligation. Nicolas was only glad Duncan and Danika couldn’t see what was playing out in Caitriona’s mind.

Nicolas flooded Caitriona with feelings of love and safety. She whimpered and twisted from him, but otherwise remained locked on the vision of Hawkins. Nicolas saw and felt everything she did. He saw the tray of torture devices including the cat-o-nine tails Hawkins had discarded earlier. He wasn’t sure he could let this vision continue, especially if it meant what he thought it did—that their confrontation with Hawkins would result in Caitriona’s abduction again.

The vision took a sharp turn as Hawkins grabbed Caitriona’s head, his hands fisting in her hair and forcing her to her knees. He held his stiff cock against her cheek, controlling her by her hair. He made lewd comments, telling her to open her mouth. Just as Nicolas decided it was time to break her from the vision, a dagger flew at Hawkins—seemingly from out of nowhere—and buried itself in his neck. The guards, who’d merely stood by as she was being assaulted, looked at each other and ran from the tent. Hawkins stumbled back clutching his neck, his fingers soaked with blood.

“You fucking witch,” Hawkins rasped. “I will kill you.” He took out his gun and fired.

The vision abruptly ended and Caitriona was released, her emotions bubbling to the surface. She sobbed and turned her head into Nicolas’ shoulder. He looked at Duncan, whose tight-lipped expression and ticking jaw were the only evidence of his anger. Nicolas watched as Duncan masked his emotions and became his stoic, commanding self once again.

Dani continued to stroke her sister’s hair, glaring at Nicolas, her eyes accusatory.

“Caitriona, what did ye see, lass?” Duncan said.

“Not now,” Nicolas answered in her place. Sometimes Duncan could be an ass, he thought. But then again, the warrior hadn’t just seen what Nicolas had.

“We canna wait, LaFelle,” Duncan growled, his impatience getting the better of him.

Nicolas put his arm protectively around his charge. He could feel the sobs wracking her body as she shook against him. Her hair smelled like lavender and sage and he realized how vulnerable she was. Goddess, she was beautiful, he thought as she sniffed loudly.

“Please, take me back to the hacienda, Nicolas,” she said. He could still sense her heightened emotions, but the fear had largely ebbed. He stood and offered his hand to her, pulling her to her feet.

“Please,” her eyes locked with his. He felt his face grow red as the vision of her naked body lingered in his memory.

“You saw,” she said, as more of a statement rather than a question.

He nodded. “Oui, chérie,” he said.

She looked down at the ground, a fresh stream of tears beginning to course down her cheeks.

She turned on her heel and began walking back the way she’d come.

“Caitriona,” Duncan yelled after her.

“Let me, MacKinnon,” Nicolas pleaded.

“Nicolas, I’m her sister,” Dani interjected. “Let me talk to her.”

“You weren’t in her head, Dani. Under other circumstances, I’d agree,” he added quickly, “but not this time.”

Duncan waved his fingers in Caitriona’s direction. “There’s too much riding on this, LaFelle. Get her back here,” Duncan hissed.

Nicolas took off at a jog, confident he could catch her before she got too far ahead of him. “Katerine,” he yelled. She stopped, not turning around.

At least she’s stopped crying, he thought when he caught up to her.

“I’m going back, Nicolas,” she declared, her arms akimbo.

Good, he thought, the fear and embarrassment have been replaced by anger. He knew the anger would help her move past what she just experienced.

“Chérie, was the vision you had a vision of what happened to you in Hawkins’ camp or was it something you think will occur in the future?”

She looked past him and he could see that she was fighting her emotions. He turned and looked at what she was staring at and saw Dani and Duncan huddled together conversing in low tones. He presumed about Caitriona.

“They won’t come over here,” he reassured her. “Talk to me, Katerine.”

“Hawkins raped me, Nicolas.”

“Go on,” he encouraged.

“What you saw was exactly what happened in his tent. Although…” She turned away from him. “I just want to go back to the hacienda. I need time to think.”

“You’re not leaving, Katerine,” he told her. His voice was soft, but firm. “Tell me about the memory. What was different about what happened to you that night?”

“I don’t know how I escaped. I thought maybe one of his men stabbed him, but . . .”

“Katerine, the guards didn’t move that knife. Did you?”

She looked at him but didn’t say anything for several minutes. “That’s crazy, Nicolas. There has to be another explanation.”

“What if there isn’t, chérie?” He paused, trying to gather his thoughts. “Once you eliminate the impossible, whatever remains, no matter how improbable, must be the truth,” he told her, quoting Sir Arthur Conan Doyle.

She arched one eyebrow. “I didn’t know you were a fan of the classics, Nicolas.”

He winked at her, a lopsided grin framing his face.

“That’s quite a stretch, Nicolas. I’ve never done that before. Why now?”

“I don’t know, Katerine, except to say that maybe your fear fed your abilities?” The idea sounded even more farfetched when he said it out loud. His mind was in overdrive. This latent manifestation of an undiscovered ability could give them an even greater advantage in their war against Hawkins. But he also knew he’d have to tread lightly. She was so fragile right now. She needed him as friend, not as handler.

“I want to know what happened when you were with Hawkins,” he told her.

“You saw everything, Nicolas. Someone else stabbed Hawkins,” she said, but he could hear the doubt in her voice.

“You’re sure of that, chérie?” he challenged.

“I…I was there, Nicolas,” she stammered, shaking her head. She furrowed her brow, deep in concentration.

“Katerine, we are here.” He indicated the caves behind him. “We know the caves enhance your abilities. Let’s try a few things, ouí?” He held his hand out to her, his heart beating wildly. If he was unsuccessful in convincing her, he wasn’t sure that MacKinnon wouldn’t try to force her. Goddess, this is all so complicated, he thought.

“I’m tired. I feel like I’m going to hurl, and all I want is to forget everything that’s happened to me in the past seven months.” She turned and started to leave.

“Please.” He sounded as if he were begging; maybe he was. He could feel her pain, the emotional exhaustion that lay just beneath the surface of her unshed emotion. He knew she put on a brave façade, especially around MacKinnon, but right now, he just wanted to heal her wounds and let her feel whatever she needed to feel. He needed her to confront her emotions, to tap into the anger and hurt that seemed to fuel her magical abilities.

She turned toward him, scrunching her brow as she looked at him. It felt as if she were searching his soul. Maybe she was, he thought. And somehow, he was alright with that. If there was one person who deserved to know him as openly and as raw as he knew her, it was Caitriona.

She nodded and walked toward him. “A few hours. Nothing more.”

A smile lit his face. “Merci, chérie.”

She burst out in a fit of giggles. At his inquisitive look, she said, “You are absolutely the only person who could ever convince me to stand next to a boiling hot cave in the Mexican desert to do something that seems quite impossible.”

He started laughing then, too. The sound of her laughter was like music to his ears. It was the first time in months he’d heard her laugh and somehow, he felt encouraged by the small gesture.

“LaFelle,” Duncan called to him. Nicolas thought he detected a hint of irritation in the commander’s voice. He held out his hand to Caitriona, who threaded her fingers through his. On an impulse, he brought her hand to his lips and kissed the back of her hand. He could feel her panic at the physical contact. He squeezed her hand and leaned in close to her ear. “I will never leave your side, chérie.”

She looked at him with her big emerald eyes that were red from crying. “I know,” she confessed.

“Are you two done wasting time, Lieutenant?” Duncan asked a little too tersely. Nicolas smiled at the use of the formal title but escorted Caitriona to the others. Dani gave her sister a quick hug and Nicolas felt Caitriona bristle before sliding a smile in place. I wonder what that’s about, he thought absently, making a mental note to dig into her reaction later.

“Ok, what now, Commander?” Caitriona asked. Nicolas didn’t miss the use of Duncan’s formal title. Neither did MacKinnon.

“The caves are about five kilometers in that direction,” Duncan said, pointing to the desert trail that wound through the hillside and toward the old mine shaft. Caitriona looked at Nicolas and then Duncan. Picking up her pack, she slung it over her shoulders and adjusted the weight. Not bothering to wait for their small party, Nicolas watched as she made her way toward the mines.