Caitriona felt Duncan’s presence almost as if he was standing next to her. Every fiber of her body was attuned to him, the energy around her crackling and moving the air as her energy reached for him. Her body ached for his, the physical need overshadowing the physical injuries she had sustained.

She shook her head and rolled her neck, trying to assuage the pain that coursed from her head in sharp stabs. She brought her hand up to her head and felt the gash that was now wet from her blood. She held her fingers up in front of her face, trembling when she saw how much blood coated her fingers. She closed her eyes and tried to remember what had happened. Think, she chided herself, trying to shake the fear that threatened to consume her.

She shifted uncomfortably and became aware of the hard snow that was stained red with her blood. Slowly pulling herself to her feet, she looked at the twisted, decayed, burnt landscape that stretched as far as she could see. Fifty meters in front of her, she could see smoke from an earlier battle. She knew the destruction that had occurred here was likely not even hours old. Corpses were strewn across the snow packed land, some with their faces turned toward the cold ground, while others stared lifeless at a cloudless sky they no longer saw.

She wrapped her arms around herself to ward off the impregnable cold. The wind whistled in her ears and tore through the remnants of the gown she wore. She was missing one slipper and already her foot was growing numb from the cold. She had to find shelter soon.

In the distance, she saw a tall spire and soon realized she was looking at the Washington Monument—or rather, what remained of the monument. The building was nearly shorn in half and the flags that once circled the base were no longer there. Turning, she saw the White House at the end of the Mall, the Order’s flags waving in the wind. Soldiers were circling the building, their weapons drawn. She crouched low, unsure where to go. In the open, snow-packed area, she heard the groans of wounded soldiers, some climbing clumsily to their feet. What soldiers remained after the explosions were now either dead or wounded. While the soldiers were currently preoccupied assisting other soldiers or removing the dead from the battlefield, she knew she didn’t have much time until someone spotted her. What happened here? she thought. Were Duncan’s men responsible for the carnage? If so, where was he?

Her left arm hung limp and useless at her side, a large cut above the shoulder sending rivulets of blood down her exposed arm. Taking the hem of her dress in her teeth, she used her good arm to tear a large swath of fabric and did her best to wrap the makeshift bandage around her head. Tearing another long piece, she clumsily wrapped her foot knowing it would be little protection from the harsh snow and ice that were already turning her foot blue.

Panting over her minor exertions, she closed her eyes, searching for her connection with Nicolas, her mind drifting to the earlier events. Just before Hawkins had tried to force himself on her, she had felt Nicolas’ bond with her, strong and fierce. Energy had coursed through her, raw and unbridled. She remembered seeing the knife on the ground next to her and wishing it was in her hands. Before she realized what was happening, the knife flew and struck hard between Hawkins’ shoulders, bringing the man to his knees. She stared at her hands, confused as to what had happened. She shook her head. She’d think about it later. Right now, she needed to escape.

“Nicolas, help me,” she pleaded, knowing he couldn’t hear her words. Within seconds, images of the Ford Theater flashed across her mind. The abandoned building was crumbling and in need of restoration, but it was still recognizable. Was she supposed to go there? Did Nicolas know where she was? She opened her mind again, but a sharp stab of pain forced her to sever the connection.

Hearing a shout from the Order’s soldiers, she scrambled down a side street, leaving the open and unprotected Washington Mall behind her. She stayed to the shadows of the now-deserted buildings as she tried to recall where she was in proximity to the Ford Theater. Relying on her childhood memories of her time in DC, she made her way south, keeping what remained of the city skyline in her sight. Her progress was slow as she had to wait until several of the Order’s men finished canvassing the area. She wasn’t sure if they were searching for her or for the unfortunate men who had been caught in the earlier battle.

She pulled her lower lip in under her teeth and bit hard. Pulling the remnants of her dress around her chest, she picked her way through debris and snow, maneuvering her way through the streets of New Washington and toward a hopeful refuge.

* * *

Duncan’s orders broke through the noise of the engine as the shuttle doors closed and the tiny craft shot into the sky. He looked at Nicolas, who sat pensively across from him, Danika on his left. The faraway look in the younger man’s eyes led Duncan to believe Nicolas was communicating with his charge, but when Duncan caught his eye, Nicolas shook his head.

“Keep trying,” Duncan growled, punching in a series of codes on the command unit that the little craft would follow to their destination.

“How long till we’re there?” Danika asked, interrupting his silent brooding.

“Several hours,” he growled, taking his seat across from them both. He pulled the safety restraints around him, settling in for the flight to New Washington. A scowl settled on his face as he thought of Caitriona trapped, afraid, and hurt. Goddess, he couldn’t even protect her. They had talked about her being a plant for Hawkins, but she had gone off script and off plan. Damnu her obstinance, he thought, his fingers curling in anger around the arm of his seat. He had half a mind to turn her over his knee when he found her. A half grin crossed his features as he imagined his mouth on her taut nipples, teasing them into hard peaks until her soft moans became his undoing. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat. Had Hawkins caught on to their plan or had Caitriona tried to bargain with the devil for passage home? He didn’t want to think about the latter.

Nicolas touched his arm, interrupting his thoughts. He knew the look on his face must have conveyed his displeasure because Nicolas spoke quickly.

“I think we should all try together,” he said. Dani stopped staring out the window and turned toward them both, a perplexed look creasing her brow. She only paused a moment before she nodded and reached her hand out to him. He could see the tears brimming beneath her long lashes and knew she blamed herself for not having reported Caitriona’s potential betrayal.

Duncan clasped Danika’s hand, noting how cold and small it felt in his hand. How unlike her sister’s hand, he thought. He extended his other hand to Nicolas, who didn’t hesitate to grasp it in his.

“How do we do this?” Duncan asked, his rich baritone reverberating in the small confines of the craft.

“I’ll open the link,” Nicolas replied. “I need you both to concentrate. Despite what you may feel, it’s important we don’t sever the link.” Duncan nodded, but Danika’s eyes remained fixed on the ground.

“Dani,” Nicolas whispered.

“I can’t do this,” she stated, withdrawing her hand.

“Ye must,” Duncan growled, his irritation beginning to show.

“Something happened to me last time, Duncan,” she said. “The power is simply too much. I can’t control it.”

“I dinna care if ye think ye can’t, yer going tae do this, lass.” His voice was controlled but inside he was raging. Nicolas gave him a warning look that only made him scowl more.

“Damnu!” he thundered. “Tis the only lead we’ve had in days. I dinna care if ye feel like tossing yer breakfast and faintin’. Yer goin’ tae do this fer yer sister.” He scowled at Danika until she slumped in her seat.

“Duncan,” Nicolas interrupted . . .

“Unless ye’ve got a better way tae find yer charge.” He stressed the last two words, flinching when he saw the hurt look in Nicolas’ eyes at the staunch reminder that the younger man had been unable to protect Caitriona.

He caught Danika’s eye. “I suggest ye put aside yer feelings and do this,” he told her. “Ye ken damn well yer sister would do the same for ye.”

The silence was uncomfortable. After several long seconds, Dani reached for his hand again. He took her hand, marveling once again at how different she was from Caitriona. Where Dani’s fingers were long and slender, Caitriona’s were short and petite, her nails trimmed and neatly filed. He gave Dani’s hand a reassuring squeeze and reached for Nicolas, who completed the triangle.

When they were settled, Duncan nodded to Nicolas to indicate they should begin. Duncan relaxed, uncertain what he should do to assist Nicolas. He didn’t have long to wait. At first, the energy passed through him quickly, leaving his skin tingling and his nerves on edge. Just when he thought nothing further was going to happen, a bolt of energy slammed into him. Nicolas gripped his hand tightly and Duncan could see the ghostly mask settle on Dani’s face.

The energy passed, and just when he was beginning to think nothing further was going to happen, he felt the energy that was uniquely Caitriona’s surge through him. He cried out, elated that she was still alive.

He looked at Dani and Nicolas and could tell they felt her as well. There was a certain sense of knowing her in a way each had never known her before. They felt her anger, her fear, and her love for him. Her emotional connection to them all was overwhelming as their collective energy gathered and spread among them. Duncan glanced at Nicolas and could see his lips moving. His eyes were tightly shut as his mouth worked furiously to convey instructions Duncan knew she couldn’t hear.

Duncan inhaled sharply as he felt a spark grow within him. While small, the flame was mighty, fueled by the collective efforts of their energy. As they opened themselves to the flow, he could feel the strength of Nicolas and Dani. Caitriona’s energy was strongest, feeding their subconscious and directing their response. As they combined their power, their bond became stronger. Duncan could feel the energy they created travel through his arms, his wrists, his fingers. Without warning, a burst of energy shot past his fingers and erupted in front of him.

Nicolas pulled his hands from theirs, breaking the bond.

“What happened?” Duncan growled, reaching for Dani’s hand again. She was shaking and deliberately ignored him.

“I lost the link with her,” Nicolas apologized. “I…” His voice trailed off as he struggled to explain what just happened.

“I felt as if I had fire comin’ from my fingertips,” Duncan said, examining the tips of his fingers. “I havena felt that before.”

“I felt it too,” Dani murmured. “Is Caitriona alright?” she asked, the fear in her voice an echo of his.

“I don’t know,” Nicolas said, searching for the right words. “I saw an image…”

“Go on,” Duncan commanded, the authority in his voice demanding and sure.

“It was almost as if a flame…or a ball of energy…was released from her. But I don’t know how she would have done that. Perhaps it’s metaphorical. Maybe the energy is a metaphor for where she’s hiding.”

“Or not,” Dani protested. She stared at both men, daring them to contradict her. At Duncan’s nod, she continued. “What if it’s literal?”

“That she shot fire from her hands?” Duncan scoffed, and then sobered when he saw the look in Nicolas’ eyes.

“We don’t yet know the extent of her power,” Dani acknowledged. “Or mine, for that matter. I can manipulate the elements. Why is it implausible to think that Cat can move energy?”

Duncan stared at her, the ticking of his jaw the only evidence of his warring emotions.

“Or maybe it wasn’t literal fire,” she continued. “What if it wasn’t just her energy, but all of our energy that she released?”

Nicolas shook his head. “I don’t know, Dani. That’s a stretch given where she was with her training.”

“Back at the caves, she told me she felt an energy,” Duncan interjected. “She said the energy she felt was strong, more powerful than anythin’ she’s known.” He paused as he struggled to recall the details. “Goddess, she didna want tae go intae the caves and I forced her.” He rubbed his hand through his hair, fisting the dark long locks in his fingers.

“You didn’t know, Duncan,” Dani responded.

“I should have,” he growled.

“Why?” Nicolas challenged. “You don’t share a bond with her.”

Duncan looked sharply at the younger man, irritated at the stark reminder that Nicolas shared a part of her that he would never touch. The thought was unsettling.

“Do ye think she’s still headed tae the Ford Theater?” he said, redirecting the conversation. He wanted off this topic. It wasn’t something he was prepared to discuss with Nicolas. Not yet anyway.

“I don’t know,” Nicolas replied. “But it’s the best lead we have right now.”

“Is she hurt?” Duncan asked, his voice little more than a whisper. Dani reached over and squeezed his hand.

“Nothing fatal. But we need to find her,” Nicolas said. “If you have Templars or Dwellers in the area you can trust, send them to the theater. She’ll likely need backup.”

Duncan could see the concern edged in the hard lines of the young handler’s face. He opened communications and sent word to Lee. His second would contact those loyal to their cause and mobilize forces. Settling back in the shuttle seat, he closed his eyes, mentally preparing himself for what he feared was ahead.