Duncan broke off from the others and started her way, alone. Stiffening, Aileana pressed back against the wall and held her breath. He passed less than six paces from her, but he didn’t notice her.
It was nothing new. She almost scoffed aloud at the aptness of her observation. She watched from behind, as he ducked his golden brown head to enter the storage room. The breadth of his shoulders filled the doorway an instant before he disappeared into the dark recesses of the chamber.
Before she really knew what she was doing, Aileana had surged to her feet and charged toward the spot. An idea bloomed in her mind like a deadly flower, filling her thoughts with venom. The arrogant boor had a lesson to learn, and an opportunity for instruction had just presented itself. Hot emotions drove her forward. She had to lean halfway into the room in order to grasp the heavy wooden bar that would latch the door from the outside, but she gritted her teeth and pulled until the slab of reinforced beams began to groan and move.
And as Duncan whirled to face her in the shadowed recesses, Aileana paused, locking her gaze for just a moment with his in a glare of grim satisfaction…
Before slamming the door shut and dropping the bar, trapping him inside the darkened chamber with a resounding thud.
Chapter 15
Silence settled on Duncan, freezing him with disbelief.The insolent woman had shut him in. He took three steps forward, blinking in the pitch darkness. When he encountered nothing but blank air, a tickle of unease lit in his belly. He shook it off, scowling and reaching to find the door. Hell, it was only a few steps farther; the chamber wasn’t that large.
A lancing pain shot up from his toe as his foot glanced off a wooden crate.Damn. He’d veered too far to the right. As he rubbed away the ache, Duncan sucked in his breath and scowled more deeply. He hoped Aileana was enjoying her jest, because in a few short moments she was going to pay for it. When he got outside this cursed little chamber he’d—
His gloved hands hit something hard.The door. Relief filled him, tingling to the ends of his fingers as he found the hand latch and pushed.
Nothing. It wouldn’t budge.
That set Duncan back on his heels again.Curse her. She’d thrown the bar home. His mouth tightened. There was only one other method of escape that he could think of trying. But he’d need some luck to accomplish it.
Pressing his shoulder to the resisting planks, Duncan used his entire weight to try to jiggle the bar off its latch. For an instant it felt like the bar lifted and teetered, ready to fall off. But then it clunked back into place. He pushed again, just to be sure. It remained fixed. Unmoving.
“Aileana, open the door,” he called. He sounded irritated, and his own voice echoed back at him, mocking him. Silence reigned supreme, emphasizing the knowledge that he found harder and harder to ignore.
He was imprisoned here.
Locked in.Just like he’d been in the Tower.
A cold sweat broke across his brow.No, damn it. He wouldn’t think on it.He stared through the darkness, searching for even a sliver of light—a tiny flicker to hold onto, to help keep it at bay. But there was only darkness. Unending blackness. Duncan fisted his hands and closed his eyes, trying to stave it off, trying to breathe deep and keep his head clear. He needed to stay calm. It was but a prank, plotted in ignorance. Nothing more.
Clenching his jaw, Duncan repeated the phrase in his mind. He willed himself to break free of the memories, to keep steady. To find a way out. But when he opened his eyes, the familiar, sickening jolt sliced through him. God, he couldn’t stop it. It kept coming.
Relentless.
Cold sweat spread to the rest of his body. The old weakness began to invade his chest, his arms, his legs, making him sink to his knees on the dirt floor, while the tide of images swept over him with the ferocity of a charging army.
A tiny room. Dark. Cold.
He was there again. Trapped and helpless…
Yanked to his feet, his muscles screaming, he was dragged down the hall. His legs scraped across ragged edges of stone, the shackles biting deep into his flesh. They threw him to the floor of the chamber. One of the bastards grabbed his right arm, stretching it out, so that his hand lay, palm down, on the bloodstained, wooden slab at the room’s center.
Fear prickled through him. Nausea and impotent rage filled his throat, choking him. He saw the rock lifted high above his hand, tried to jerk away, strained to pull his arm back, even as the nerves of his fingers thrummed in preparation for the impact. But they held him fast. Laughing, taunting.
The rock cracked down, and he started to scream…
“Nay!” The primal roar burst from Duncan’s lungs as he bolted upright. He slammed his body into the heavy wood of the storage door, pummeling the beams with his fists. He heard a crack…and then the solid mass began to give way. Splinters of light shot into the chamber, blinding him as the door burst open with a crunch of wood and metal. He pushed through, falling to the ground and gasping for air.
His heart beat thick in his ears, and he gradually became aware of the harsh sound of his own breathing. Dirt. He tasted dirt in his mouth, gritty and cold. But the crushing weakness began to ebb. He pushed himself up on his hands, raising his head slowly. And he saw them. They were all staring.
The MacKenzie, his men, and Kinnon stood across the courtyard, stock still, their expressions aghast. Kinnon moved first, running to Duncan to grasp his arm and pull him to his feet.
“What the hell happened?”
“Aileana,” Duncan rasped. His throat felt seared with the air he sucked into his lungs. “I’ll wring her neck with my bare hands.” He shoved past Kinnon. “Where is she?”
“Aileana?” Kinnon’s brow furrowed.
