LOCH MORAR, SCOTLAND
The Past - Greystone Castle
A week had passed since the strange incident in the hall, and the even stranger actions of Gavin trying to kill her.
Off and on, Gavin had woken again, but he did not seem to hear her when she spoke to him and if he did, he didn’t answer.
Lifting the rag, Paige wiped Gavin’s brow, arms and chest. She decided she preferred him like this. At least he wasn’t screaming.
Besides, she decided if he called her a witch one more time, she was going to clobber him. Well, maybe not clobber him, but she would do something.
To make matters worse, she didn’t know what was wrong with him. He didn’t seem to have a fever, but what about the wild accusations he made? Where did that come from? Did Broderick rattle his brains? Was he ever going to be normal again?
Paige didn’t know. But she hoped Callum, Muir, Alec and Graham, came back soon because once his strength returned, Gavin may very well do as he promised and kill her. She shuddered from that thought. And no matter how hard she tried, her mind kept coming back to that. What would she do if he really tried to kill her?
Sighing, she put the rag back in the bowl and placed it on the table beside his bed. It was late and she was tired. Grabbing a fur, she laid it out in front of the fire. She had been sleeping on the floor since his last episode. Paige thought it would be better in case he woke up and needed her, and or, wanted to do her in.
Walking around the room, Paige made sure there were no weapons lying about on the off chance they had magically reappeared in the room.
Using the key from around her neck, she locked the trunk and tucked the key back inside the bodice of her gown.
After locking the door, she grabbed a piece of wood, which was more of a hefty stick and tucked it under the edge of the fur. She would have kept out his creepy dagger but knowing her luck, she would end up stabbing herself with it. So, for now, the stick would have to do as her weapon if the need arose.
Rolling to her side, Paige stared at the flames as she tried to get comfortable. The floor was hard, the blanket stunk, and even though she was uncomfortable, it didn’t take her very long to drift off to sleep right back into the same strange dream that she had before.
♦
The other, look alike, albeit darker Gavin was there again and Paige could do naught but follow him as he made his way down the underdeck of the boat, stopping outside a stateroom. Seeing how this was but a dream, she didn’t think much about sidling up next to him and looking in the room as well. However, when she leaned forward to do just that, he grabbed hold of both her arms to the point his fingers cut into her flesh.
Startled by the realness of the dream, she looked up into his smouldering gaze and was even more surprised when her pulse kicked up a notch.
“Get out!” his voice was stern, one that warranted immediate attention.
And it did, but not for the obvious reasons. It was because he was in her dream, telling her what to do—the nerve. She was so indignant by his order that she didn’t stop to consider how that might be possible in the first place. “You get out!” she said instead.
The man in question, jerked his head back as though he had been struck, although his hold was still firm on her arms. When her eyes met his once more, his brows lifted in surprise. Before she could say anything, or move, a loud noise sounded in the stateroom.
The man jerked her against his body and blocked her body just as a bright flash of white shot out into the hall.
The force of the blast pushed Paige up against the opposite wall as the dark lookalike Gavin got the brunt of what could only be described as some sort of explosion.
The smell of burning hair and flesh filled the air as his body continued to blanket her from the flames.
Screams of agony resounded around her as the people from the upper deck of the ship ran down the stairs, storming past them with buckets of water to douse the flames as though they were not even standing there.
Paige wanted to turn around, move from his embrace, but he held her too tightly. With her face pressed against the wooden panels, and her back covered with his muscled form, she yelled, “You bloody oaf! Get your hands off of me!”
His body pressed forward as his mouth lowered to her ear.
“Have a care with yer sharp tongue, lass,” he scathed. “Or next time, I may no be inclined ta save yer pretty neck.”
Paige tensed and was about to give him a scathing rebuttal, she really was, but the chaos that was ensuing around them both waylaid her attempt and before she could even have her say, he grabbed her arm and nearly ripped it from its socket as he dragged her down the hall away from the commotion.
He stopped at the end, right in front of a closed door. “I told ye,” he said with stern conviction as he reached and opened the door.
“Get out!”
♦
All Paige could smell was singed hair. She opened her eyes to a small fire burning on the floor.
Scrambling up to standing, she beat her head only to realize the singed hair she smelled wasn’t from her own head but from the fur she was lying on.
“Oh God!”
She ran behind the screen, grabbed a pitcher of water from the table and tossed it onto the small fire on the blanket.
A billow of smoke filled the air.
Her eyes immediately teared up and she began to cough. Covering her nose and mouth with one hand, she bent down and grabbed hold of the fur with her other. Running now, she made her way across the room and tossed the offending fur out the window. As she looked down, she saw it land in a puddle.
The room, still full of smoke, made her lungs burn. Ripping down the tapestry, she used it to air the room as much as she could, but it wasn’t working very well.
Giving up, Paige crossed the room and opened the door. A few swings of the door cleared up most of the smoke.
Prickles of awareness rose on her skin and Paige uneasily turned and looked over at the bed where Gavin had been sleeping.
His eyes were open wide and a slight smile crested his lips.
It wasn’t a nice smile either.
Sure, she was seeing things, she momentarily closed her eyes and reopened them.
Now his eyes were shut and he looked normal. Well, not normal, never normal, he was too good-looking for that, but he seemed the same as he was before she went to sleep.
Once the smoke had mostly cleared out, she cleaned up the mess and rehung the tapestry. Paige still wasn’t sure if Gavin’s eyes were open or not, but she knew she needed to take some precautions.
Walking to the trunk, she pulled out the key and unlocked the lid. Reaching inside, she removed a length of rope and made her way back to the bed.
Carefully, she tied his arms and secured the rope on the bedposts. “This is for your safety,” she said, tightening the ropes, and then added, “and my own.”
Closing and locking the door, she walked back to the bed and got another blanket. This time, instead of placing it in front of the fire, she put it across the room.
This way she would still hear Gavin if he woke and getting comfortable, Paige lay down on the fur.
As she drifted off to sleep, she couldn’t help but wonder about her strange dream with the darker Gavin.
Was it from the stress she was under or was it something else?