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The Knowledge of Love

Page 15

by D. S. Williams


  “Perhaps you're frightened of what the future may hold,” Gabrielle suggested gently.

  “Maybe,” I agreed. “I'm not sure what the future holds for me. I'm still trying to come to terms with the past. For right now, I have plenty of problems to deal with in the present.”

  “How old are you, Charlotte?”

  “I turned twenty-one this past September.” It seemed like a lifetime ago and my head spun thinking about the things which had happened in such a short period of time.

  “So very young to be dealing with so much,” Gabrielle commented, sympathy prominent in her voice.

  I put down the cup and stood up. “It's been lovely to talk with you.” I sighed deeply. “Unfortunately I'd better get moving.”

  “Let's do it again if you get a chance,” Gabrielle suggested.

  I smiled brightly. “I'd like that.”

  As we said our goodbyes, I was certain I'd made a new friend.

  Chapter 19: Wild Rides

  I'd retreated to the room above the meeting hall an hour ago, needing time alone. The day had been exceedingly hectic, starting with Randy and hot chocolate and ending with visits to the bereaved families. The endless buzz of activity around the city, combined with the endless hum in my mind had brought on another headache and I'd withdrawn from everyone, seeking my own counsel in the little alcove hidden from the world.

  An earlier visit to the mess had provided a little cache of snacks. Nonny had taken one look at my shadowed eyes and pale skin and immediately packed a basket of food – a couple of bread rolls, a thermos of chicken soup, a packet of Oreos and half a dozen chocolate bars. I'd brought the stash to my hideaway, sipping the chicken soup while I talked with the spirits.

  Despite the welcome relief of the turkey incident, (which still made me smile), it had been a difficult day. I knew the stress wasn't good for the baby, so it seemed a good plan to remove myself from everything and attempt to calm my thoughts a little. When I was out there in the streets, my attention was needed in a dozen places all at once. Sometimes I wondered if the battles weren't the easiest part of this war. At least then everyone was focused on their own survival and leaving me alone. I rolled my eyes at such a ridiculous train of thought, wondering how I could possibly believe fighting demons and younglings was easier than the other aspects of my life.

  The spirits were soothing tonight. There was no further news about Archangelo's kidnapping, for the moment it seemed the negotiations for a prisoner exchange had stalled. The spirits believed the Fae were suspicious of the Drâghici's motives and wanted to negotiate further before they would move forward. It occurred to me that we should contact the Fae, warn them the Drâghici had no intention of handing over their woman, but I didn't know how it could be done. Where did the Fae live? It was something we needed to discuss at the next meeting.

  I was convinced we needed to bring the Fae onto our side, try and get them to join us. From what Conal had said it would be difficult, but perhaps if we contacted them and warned them of the Drâghici's deception, they might consider it?

  With a sigh, I gave up trying to find solutions to the problems we faced. The men were working into the night, repairing the damaged cottages. I'd seen Striker and he told me they'd formed shifts of volunteers, who would work for twelve hour spans day and night to get the repair work finished. I worried about the health of those volunteers, particularly if we faced another attack. Their exhaustion would be a weakness. Aware that the noise of reconstruction would continue throughout the night, I'd borrowed Acenith's iPod and was listening to music, trying to drown out the racket. I focused on the calming songs I'd selected and concentrated on relaxing my frayed nerves.

  Feeling somewhat better, I pulled the buds from my ears and stood up. As much as I loved it up here, it was late and I'd sleep more comfortably in bed. Climbing down the stairs, I made a last minute decision to grab a hot chocolate before I went home.

  The mess was still filled with light, even though it was close to midnight. If Nonny was still on duty I was going to force her to go home. For an old lady she put in a ridiculous amount of hours, but never seemed tired. She was amazing, truly astonishing for a woman of her years and relished the challenges she faced in feeding so many.

  As I suspected, Nonny was still inside and I wondered idly if she ever slept. “Hello, mi pequeño ángel,” she greeted me with a warm smile.

  I handed over the empty thermos. “Can I have a hot chocolate please?”

  “Of course. Did you eat all the soup?” she fussed like a mother hen. “You look so tired.”

  I smiled tiredly. “Yes, I ate all the soup and the bread rolls.”

  She gave me an approving nod. “I'll get that hot chocolate for you.”

  I glanced around the mess while I waited and saw Conal sitting with some of his pack. I hadn't seen him since this morning, when he'd seemed so angry and a chill settled over me. Why had he been annoyed?

  As if he was aware I was watching him, Conal glanced up. He focused on me for a second and spoke to the man beside him, then stood and strode towards me. I swallowed nervously, wondering if we were about to fight again.

  “Here you go, honey.” I took the mug of hot chocolate from Nonny and smiled weakly, bidding her goodnight and urging her to get some rest.

  I ignored the ridiculous urge to walk out the door before Conal reached me. I was nervous about what he intended to say and worried that we'd return to the horrible situation where we didn't speak at all. Giving myself a good mental shake, I stood my ground.

  “Charlotte, I've been looking for you.” With a silent groan, I turned to see Matt and Clint approaching. Clint had been released from hospital and looked reassuringly healthy.

  “Hey, Matt, Clint.” I stole a glance at Conal, saw he'd stopped a few feet away with his arms crossed over his broad chest. “What's up?”

  Matt looked at Conal, then back to me with a wry expression. “Never mind, I'll talk to you tomorrow.”

  “I've got funerals tomorrow. It might as well be now.” I tried not to lose my patience. Was it any wonder that I liked the room above the meeting hall? Every time I came out of it I was assaulted from all sides.

  “Clint and I think it would be helpful to set up permanent weapon points on the ramparts. Now we've seen the impact we can make on the demons, it would be good to have positions set up ready for next time.”

  There was no doubt the men had made a contribution in the last battle, although they couldn't destroy the demons, their ability to cause damage had been helpful. “Sure, Matt. I think it's a great idea. How are you coming along with volunteers?”

  “Good,” Clint said. The human men want to be involved. I guess it makes us feel we're doing something useful.”

  I smiled. “Everybody's useful, Clint.”

  Clint threw me a wink. “I'm beginning to think diplomacy is your forte, kiddo.”

  “You look dead on your feet, baby. You knocking off soon?” Matt observed me carefully, tuning in to my exhaustion.

  I lifted the cup in my hand in salute. “Drinking this, then going to bed.”

  Matt kissed my cheek before he and Clint departed and I turned to Conal, his gaze wary. “Hi.”

  He took a moment before he responded. “Hey.”

  When he didn't say any more I turned to the door. I was too tired to deal with this tonight. “Goodnight, Conal.”

  “Charlotte… wait.” Heaving a sigh, I turned to face him and waited for him to speak. He glanced around the still-busy mess. “Seems it's damn near impossible to talk to you without interruption,” he grumbled, “and this needs to be private.”

  My heart raced and apprehension built. He was going to tell me he couldn't be friends with me. Or he couldn't accept me having Lucas's baby. “Come on,” I said, inclining my head towards the door.

  He followed silently as we crossed the courtyard, the snow glittering beneath the lights. Conal held open the door to the meeting hall, following me upstairs to the little room.<
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  I put the hot chocolate down on the floor and turned to face him. “This is as private as my life gets,” I announced. “What did you want to say?”

  “What's the deal with that kid, Randy?”

  I stared at him, seeing the hard look in his eyes, the defensive posture, his hands gripped tightly in fists. This was so far out of left field; it took me a minute to process the question. “Randy Norton?”

  “Yeah,” Conal growled.

  I bit my lip to stop from laughing, knowing Conal wouldn't appreciate it. “Is that why you were pissed this morning? Because I was having a hot chocolate with Randy?”

  “You were touching his arm,” Conal said. “You looked pretty damn cozy to me.”

  This time I couldn't stop a chuckle erupting. “Conal, he's seventeen years old, for goodness sake. You can't possibly be – jealous?”

  Conal clenched his jaw. “Yeah. Yeah, I think I am.”

  I shook my head in disbelief. “You're being ridiculous.”

  “Am I?”

  “Yes! He's just a kid!”

  “He's only a couple of years younger than you.”

  My eyes widened in disbelief. “This is stupid. He's four years younger than me. He's just a nice kid, he's got a crush on me.”

  “So why did you have your hand on his arm?

  “He'd just gotten through telling me his pack turn into bloodhounds! He was embarrassed about it and I was trying to make him feel better!” My temper was steadily rising - I was tired and didn't want to conduct such a stupid discussion in the middle of the night. Hell, I didn't want to have such a stupid discussion at any time of the day. “I don't think you can talk! I saw you kissing Rachel with your hands settled on her ass! I didn't react so immaturely!”

  For a moment we stared at each other, then his eyes softened with amusement and he cocked an eyebrow. “You didn't react immaturely? Charlotte, you called her a puppy!”

  The tension between us dissipated and I grinned. “All right. So we're agreed. We're both as bad as each other.”

  Conal glanced around the room. “Sit down. We need to talk,” he said softly.

  I did as he requested, sliding down the wall to sit on the floor. Conal bent down, picked up the sleeping bag and draped it over my legs. “You'll catch your death of cold up here,” he chided.

  “It's peaceful.”

  He slumped down beside me, his long legs stretched out and I raised the side of the sleeping bag. “Wanna share?”

  “Sure. Why not?”

  I arranged the sleeping bag so it covered both our legs and secretly relished having him close beside me.

  Conal leaned against the wall and studied me curiously. “Why did you think I was pissed off this morning?”

  I chewed my lip as I composed the answer. “I figured you'd decided you couldn't handle me being pregnant with Lucas's baby. I thought you were going to say you didn't want to be friends anymore.”

  Conal seemed stunned by my confession. “I've told you that will never happen. How on earth did you get that idea?”

  I frowned pensively, studying my fingernails. “Overactive imagination, I guess. Maybe I've been over-thinking things,” I admitted. “Or maybe the pregnancy hormones are making me nuts.”

  Conal pursed his lips, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “Definitely the hormone thing.”

  I punched his chest playfully and Conal took the opportunity to drape his arm across my shoulders, drawing me closer. “Now tell me about this over-thinking problem,” he demanded. “What exactly have you been thinking?”

  I closed my eyes, chewing my fingernail nervously before I launched into an explanation. “I've been worrying about how you really feel about the pregnancy. And then I got to wondering about why I reacted so intensely to you last night, when you were working with your shirt off.”

  Conal grinned devilishly. “I kind of wondered about that myself.”

  Licking my lips, I decided honesty was best and blurted everything out in a rush. “I've seen you without a shirt before and haven't reacted so…” I blushed and looked away, “I mean, I've always found you attractive and of course, I love you, but I was thinking about it and wondering why I'd reacted so strongly last night. I got to thinking that when we were in Jackson, I was maybe suppressing my responses to you because of how I felt about Lucas. And then while I was in the shower this morning I got to wondering about the baby and if you could deal with it and whether it meant you wouldn't ever want a relationship with me because I'd had another man's baby…”

  “Whoa! Take a breath, Sugar,” Conal interrupted, his eyes twinkling with amusement.

  I breathed deeply for a minute, trying to get my thought processes into order. It was hopeless. “I'm frightened you don't want to be involved with me because of the baby. And that made me miserable. I think maybe my morality is all screwed up because I'm thinking about you, when Lucas has only been gone for eight weeks. Does that make me a bad person? By the time I'd got all that spinning around in my head and you were so angry this morning…”

  Conal pressed a finger to my lips, effectively stopping my rambling. “Is the whole pregnancy going to be like this?” he asked. “It's going to be a pretty wild ride.”

  Tears inexplicably filled my eyes and I began to cry. “I don't even know when the baby's due!” I wailed.

  Conal held me, rubbing my back while I cried myself out, whispering soothing words against my hair. When I calmed down, he picked up the hot chocolate and handed it to me. “Drink,” he ordered softly. “We're going to go through this, one thing at a time, and get it sorted out.”

  “I'm a mess,” I admitted miserably.

  “You're a gorgeous mess,” Conal amended, “and I love you.” He rubbed his fingers through his dark hair. “I loved you the first time I saw you. I've loved you more with each passing day.” His eyes softened to dark pools of molten black. “I will never stop loving you, Charlotte.”

  “But…” I said tentatively.

  Conal put his finger against my lips. “No buts. There is nothing in this world that will make me stop loving you.” He squeezed his eyes shut. “I tried to convince myself I could stop - when you went back to Lucas and I found out you were sleeping with him. I dated a few women, hoping I could get you out of my system.” He shook his head ruefully. “I can't do it, Charlotte. Every other woman – not one of them can hold a candle to you. I find myself comparing and they all come up short.”

  “What about the baby?”

  For a moment he paused, brushing his fingers lightly down my cheek. “I'll love the baby, Charlotte. I'll treat it as my own and I'll love him or her, as much as I love you.”

  Tears trickled down my cheeks again and Conal rubbed his thumb gently across my skin, brushing them away. “Charlotte, I never meant to hurt you when I said I wished things had been reversed – that I had died and not Lucas. I knew how painful it was for you to be without him.”

  I squeezed my eyes shut. “It would be equally as painful if you'd died. You must realize that.”

  “I've always known I was second choice, Charlotte. I knew from the very beginning that your feelings for Lucas were stronger than for me. It was always going to be worse for you if he died,” he admitted.

  I shook my head. “You're wrong, I don't think you are second choice.” I looked at my hands, rubbing my thumb across my palm thoughtfully. “I think I loved you both, as equally as it was possible. I loved you for different reasons, but I don't think I loved either of you more than the other. It was just… different.” I met his gaze. “Epi told me once that it was like fire and ice. The differences in each of you were what drew me to you both.”

  Conal captured my hands, intertwining his fingers through mine. “So I'm guessing from all this, you've been thinking about us starting a relationship?”

  I nodded faintly.

  “Are you ready for that?” he questioned gently.

  Just as imperceptibly, I shook my head. “I don't know,” I whispered.
<
br />   Conal tilted my head with his fingers so he could look at me. “Charlotte, we don't have to rush into this.” He smiled. “You tell me what you want for right now and I'll give it to you. Nothing more, not until you're ready.”

  My eyes filled with tears again, I couldn't believe how understanding he was. When I didn't make any comment, he continued. “I guess holding hands is okay?”

  I nodded.

  “What about hugging?” he asked, his voice low.

  Again I nodded.

  “What about this?” He inched close, until his mouth brushed against mine. His lips were like a whisper and I closed my eyes, a sudden whirl of butterflies in my belly. The kiss ended as quickly as it began and he gazed down at me, his eyes filled with emotion. “Am I allowed to do that?” he whispered.

  I touched his cheek, leaning forward to kiss him back. Conal groaned and wrapped me in his arms. His kiss wasn't demanding, filled with tenderness as he confirmed with his actions that he wouldn't take things any further than I was willing to go.

  When he released me, he smiled warmly. “You don't know how much I've missed that,” he admitted. “I've missed so many things. I missed the nights we spent together, with you in my bed. I missed going to sleep with your head against my chest. I missed the feel of you in my arms. I've missed the easy relationship we had, talking until you fell asleep.” He leaned in, his forehead pressed against mine. “I missed the feel of your lips, the smell of your hair, your skin.”

  “I'm sorry,” I whispered.

  Conal captured my face between his hands. “Don't be sorry, Sugar.”

  I frowned and Conal picked up on it instantly. “What?”

  “It's just… I had so little time with Lucas before he was gone… and I'm terrified it will happen with you.”

  “Sugar, let's take one day at a time,” Conal cautioned. “Enjoy what we have while we have it.”

 

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