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Chapter 8

Paris, later that night

Alisaunne's eyes snapped open… surprised that she felt nothing… no pain… no trauma. The room she was in was dark except for the pale glow from a nearby low light and that from a rectangle of bright light off to her right… light making its way into the room from an outside hallway through the window on a door. She lay in a hard bed… beneath a cold white sheet.

She took a deep breath and shivered… trying to place where she was and what had happened. She could feel the beginnings of what must be a headache, as something seemed to buzz and throb within her.

"Good! You're awake!"

Alisaunne turned toward the sound of Ian's solemn voice.

"Hush now lass… don't try to speak. Just nod." He leaned over her with a warm expression.

Alisaunne licked her dry lips and nodded. Already she had a thousand questions.

"Do you recall bein' hit by that car?" When she nodded, Ian stroked her face with such a sad expression she thought she'd cry. "You were hurt lass, you're in hospital and I have to get you out of here before they learn that you heal fast." Ian smiled weakly. "Remember?"

Alisaunne nodded and tried to sit up… aware only that that persistent throb in her head was almost enough to make her sick. Vaguely she recalled the accident… and the voice. Glancing over at Ian she started to tell him only for him to place a finger on her lips.

"We'll talk later. Gather your strength. I've something for you to put on… I'll help… and then we have to go. We have no time for talk now."

Alisaunne nodded as she let him pull a sweater over her head and thrust her arms into the sleeves. Next he fitted a pair of loose sweatpants over her feet and worked them up her legs… When they were high enough he pulled her to her feet and slipped them over her hips. At that he gave her another smile and softly ran a hand though her tangled hair.

"First time I ever remember dressing you rather than undressing you."

Alisaunne laughed as she lifted one foot and then the other into the flats he'd placed on the floor. She still felt strange and not at all certain of her balance. Ian reached for a long coat and threw it over her shoulders.

"If you're ready now, Alisaunne de Pres… we can go. Keep your face down as if crying and say nothing." He perched a brimmed rain hat on her head and pulled it low over her eyes.

Once more Alisaunne nodded. That wouldn't be hard… she didn't feel much like walking and talking right now anyway. She sagged against him as he gently maneuvered her through the cautiously opened door of the room and then down the hall to the stairwell door at the end.

Glancing around swiftly to be certain no one saw them, Ian opened the door and helped the young woman through it and slowly down the stairs. Luck was with them… they'd met no one on the stairs. When they reached the ground floor he peered through the rectangular door window and then opened it swiftly crossing the lobby as quietly as he could with Alisaunne leaning on him.

A security guard tipped his hat to the couple solemnly and opened the glass entry door to let them pass… obviously thinking they'd just lost a family member and that Ian was consoling the woman in his arms. The boy nodded his thanks and descended the icy steps to the waiting cab.

A few feet short of the cab Alisaunne suddenly struggled in Ian's arms.

"It burns! Make it stop! Make it stop!" She reached out and began clawing at her arms.

Confused, Ian held her more tightly, "Hush now lass… We have to go. Be quiet now… come along quietly… we're almost safe." His words made little sense to her… but she complied… still rubbing and clawing at her arms and chest, wondering why they burned… and what was the matter with her.

The ride in the taxicab was like a nightmare.

All Alisaunne could quite recall was that the throb in her head refused to stop and that the driver seemed to keep up a steady stream of conversation about the sights. Alisaunne had buried her face in Ian's chest and shuddered as the burning pain along her arms, palms, chest and abdomen grew in intensity. Somewhere in the back of her mind she kept hearing a half-strangled cackle and she thought it must be some sort of long delayed reaction to her memories of Nestor re-awakening somehow in the trauma of her accident.

She'd seldom been hurt in her life. Once as a small child she'd fallen and skinned her knees rather badly only to see them heal in seconds. That was when Uncle Jacques had told her she was special and that she must never tell anyone that she could heal like that. After that, although she'd basically gone where she wished and done what she pleased without fear… fear that she would be injured… she'd never really been hurt again… Not until Nestor had sliced her over and over with his knife as well as slicing himself and rubbed himself against her as a part of his rape of her.

She'd remembered that it had happened. But she had never really remembered the pain and terror of the event. If she thought of it at all… she thought mostly of having grabbed Ian's sword and thrust it into the madman to kill him. It hadn't killed him… but Duncan had assured her the man was dead. So why now was the nightmare once more real? After all… she'd healed in seconds… the cuts had been superficial. Why now after almost five years, were the memories back?

"There now lass, you have a good cry." Ian held her with a slight rocking motion. At least he was here for her. At least he had come back to her. She found herself wadding his shirt into balls in her fists as she sobbed and wanted it all to be over… letting out completely all that she had held in for years.

Finally the taxi stopped and they climbed out. As Ian paid the driver, Alisaunne wiped her tears from her face and glanced around wondering why they were at Duncan's barge. She held her tongue until the taxi drove off. "Why are we here?"

"I'll explain once we're inside. Come along now, lass, let's not tarry." He held her gently to propel her up the gangplank.

Alisaunne shrugged his arm off. "I'm not helpless Ian Daffyd! I'm hurt and confused and I'm wearing someone else's clothes and I want to go home and take a bath and wash my hair and sleep in my own bed! Now why are we here instead?"

Ian glanced around as if he were worried someone was watching them. "I'll explain inside. I've stolen you from hospital… Where do you think the authorities will look first for you? As it is… they may come here, too."

Alisaunne made to complain once more, but suddenly seemed to accept that Ian was likely doing the best he could under the circumstances. She turned to march up the gangplank alone. "Well then let's get inside. I can't wait to hear your explanations for all this skullduggery… Another thing, stop patronizing me… I'm not sick… I'm fine… really!"

Behind her she heard Ian chuckle as he followed her onto the deck and then down into the barge's main room. "Of that I have no doubt, Alisaunne des Pres."

Inside the barge, Ian turned on a lamp and then crossed to the small gas fireplace. There was a real chill in the barge since he'd been out all day. He lit the fire and then turned to approach Alisaunne.

"Would you like a drink or anything?"

Alisaunne had shrugged off the long coat and laid it on the back of the sofa. She'd never liked coming here. The barge always reminded her too much of the day that Monsieur Maillot had died… the day her nightmare had begun. She turned about and rubbed her arms within the long sweater. The burning had ceased for the moment.

"Are you staying here?"

"Aye… Duncan said I could stay here while he was on the Riviera… until I found a place of my own."

"You could always come back." Alisaunne's lower lip trembled. Surely he still didn't mean to just walk out of her life.

"Aye… that I could… except…" his voice trailed away as if he was uncertain what to say next.

So Alisaunne said it for both of them. "Whatever your reasons for leaving… I still love you! I still want to be with you!" She crossed to him and reached to stroke his downy cheek. She smiled at his sad eyes. "I don't care what it is… I'll deal with it."

"Aye lass… now you'll have to." Ian said and backed away. He reached into the fridge for a beer and held up another one for her with a question in his eyes.

Alisaunne shook her head. "No… I'm still cold… and if I've had a head injury I shouldn't drink. I still have this really throbbing headache." She ran one hand over her brow and winced at the non-stop throb that had been present since she'd awakened.

Ian took a long drink for his beer. "I know," he said softly.

Suddenly Alisaunne shrieked as the burning in her hands and along her arms started once more. She clawed at her arms in terror. "What is happening to me?"

Ian set the beer down and crossed the room with great concern. He pushed up the sleeves of her sweater and stared at the welts appearing and vanishing all along her arms.

Alisaunne began to claw at her chest. "Make it stop! Make it stop!" She pulled off the sweater and started scratching at the welts appearing there.

Ian grabbed her hands. "I've never seen this happen before. This isn't right!"

Then Alisaunne felt as if she were being violated roughly in the worst possible way. She screamed in terror as she tried to escape the cold feel of rape happening all over again. She tore at the sweatpants crying, "Make him stop!" In the back of her mind she could here Nestor laughing once more.

A bewildered Ian grabbed her hands and thrust them behind her as he pulled her close. "I'm here Alisaunne. Whatever's happening it's not real. You're fine. You're safe. You're with me," he kept reassuring her.

Alisaunne moaned at the unrelenting assault on her senses. Finally she gazed deeply into Ian's eyes. "Make love to me Ian. Banish the nightmare. Make love to me now!"

Her mouth eagerly reached for his.

Ian found himself responding. Gradually he loosened the grip on her hands and she pulled at him and his clothes. Softly… as always… frightened of hurting her… of making her remember the other… he let his own hands gently caress her and felt his need for her rise.

Alisaunne wanted more than gentleness. She wanted him to take her roughly and banish the feel of the other. In desperation she began to bite his neck, his lips, his chest… and rip at his clothes. She became the aggressor and when they fell onto Duncan's bed… she took the lead in their lovemaking as she had never before dared… pushing the limits of love into something else… something wild and dangerous.

"Tomorrow," thought Ian, "I'll tell her tomorrow," and responded to her ardor with the long denied passion he had always felt for her, yet had never truly shared with her.