The Knowledge of Love

by D. S. Williams

  “What sort of things?”

  “Peter invokes excellent shielding spells. We might be able to adjust them, to provide you with some shielding when you come up against Archangelo.”

  I was interested in the idea and could see its potential value. “Sounds good. Shall we get together after the meeting?”

  Gabrielle agreed with a roll of her eyes. “If the meeting ever finishes.” She stood up and stretched. “I imagine it's going to be a very long day.”

  Chapter 25: The Fae

  It was well before dawn when I woke the following morning, rolling over and pulling the quilt over my shoulders. Stretching languidly, I opened my eyes to discover Conal sitting by the window, his back against the wall.

  “This is becoming a habit.” For the third night in a row, Conal had stayed in my bedroom, watching over me as I slept. The effect it was having was noticeable, his eyes were ringed with bruise-like shadows, visible in the muted lamplight.

  Conal twisted onto his knees and crawled across to the bed. “I need to know you're safe,” he said huskily, brushing my hair from my face. “I love being with you.”

  “You need to sleep,” I pointed out.

  “I do sleep. I catch an hour here and there.” He stroked my cheek, tracing his fingers across my throat.

  “You can't be comfortable on the floor,” I observed quietly.

  His fingers stopped and he gazed down at me, lifting an eyebrow. “What are you saying, Sugar?” His black eyes were blazing pools of desire, clouded with a splash of worry.

  I caught his fingers in mine, curling my hands around his. “Not what you think,” I said quietly. “I'm not sure I'm ready yet. It's too soon.”

  Conal smiled, leaning over to gently kiss my mouth. “You know how much I'd love to sleep every night with you in my arms. Hell, there's nothing I could want more. But I understand you not being comfortable with the idea. I promised we'd take this at your pace and I'm going to keep that pledge.”

  I cupped his cheek against my palm, staring into his eyes. “I don't want to make things… difficult for you.” Color rushed into my cheeks at the implication.

  Conal licked his lips. “There's nothing I want more than to make love to you. That's no secret.” He lifted his head, leaning against his palm and gazed down at me. “But I'm not sure I'm ready yet, to be honest.”

  I opened my mouth to question him, but Conal put a finger across my lips. “Charlotte, I love you more than anything. But the thought of making love when you're pregnant with another man's baby - I'm not comfortable with it.”

  I nodded agreement cautiously, one part relieved while another part was disappointed. Although not ready to commit to a sexual relationship, I was doubtful he would be prepared to wait for so long. How would he manage for months on end?

  Conal caught my chin in his fingertips and pressed a kiss to my lips. “I can do it, Sugar. Sex is amazing, but I can live without it for as long as it takes. Trust me.”

  “I trust you,” I whispered. “Won't it be…”

  Conal lips rose in a wry grin. “If you were about to say what I think, don't worry about it. I'm used to being constantly aroused around you. I've been dealing with it for months.”

  I buried my face in the pillow, and Conal chuckled. “I didn't realize I had that effect on you,” I admitted, my words muffled.

  “A man can't just turn off his feelings,” he admitted huskily. “You've always had that effect on me.” He glanced at his watch. “It's really early. Why don't you go back to sleep for a while?”

  “Come and lay on the bed with me.”

  Conal's eyes narrowed. “Didn't we just have this conversation?”

  “I want to cuddle. And you need some sleep.” I watched as he climbed onto the bed. “But you have to promise me, you'll sleep in your own bed from now on. I'm perfectly safe with Ben and Rowena.”

  “I'm not promising a thing,” he retorted. Laying on the pillow beside me, he drew me into his arms and settled my head against his chest. “But I'll think about it.”

  Dawn was appearing over the horizon when I woke again. I slipped out of bed leaving Conal to sleep for a while longer and I searched out some clothes before turning back at the door to gaze at him. He was on his back, his face relaxed and so very handsome. My heart stuttered as I silently acknowledged how much he meant to me.

  I crept out and discovered Rowena coming along the hall. Raising a finger to my lips I watched her gaze turn towards the bedroom, catching sight of Conal.

  “Perhaps we should get a larger bed for your room.” She winked mischievously.

  “We're not…” I lowered my gaze and stared at my toes.

  “There's no need to be embarrassed. The man obviously adores you. The very least we can do is make things comfortable for both of you.” She turned to walk down the hallway. “I'll make you some breakfast.”

  “No, wait!” I followed her hastily, determined to clear up the misunderstanding.

  Rowena paused at the head of the stairs expectantly.

  “Rowena, we're not… Conal's going to stay where he is. For now. I'm not ready for anything else.”

  She smiled sympathetically, realizing her mistake. “Of course. You must do what's best for you both. I'll get your breakfast.”

  Conal appeared half an hour later, looking disheveled but rested. He leaned over to kiss me and rumpled my hair.

  “Coffee?” Rowena asked.

  Conal ran his fingers through his jet black hair, trying to smooth it but only succeeded in making it wilder. “No thanks, I'm heading home to shower.”

  Ben glanced up from the book he was reading. “Conal, why don't you move your belongings here? You are more than welcome to share the house with us and you've slept here for the past three nights.” Rowena gripped Ben's shoulder, squeezing a warning and she shook her head minutely.

  “What a wonderful idea,” Marianne agreed, appearing in the doorway with Striker's hand clasped in hers. She grinned, the smile lighting up her eyes. “Although the house does always smell of wet dog…”

  Conal cuffed her shoulder gently. “I love you too, Marianne. But I'm not moving in.”

  “Why ever not?” Her gaze shifted from Conal to raise an eyebrow at me. “It makes sense for you to live together. You're together every minute of the day and night!”

  Conal caught my eye. “It's not happening, Marianne.” I didn't miss the disappointment which flickered across his eyes, though he recovered quickly.

  Marianne huffed out a frustrated sigh. “You humans get so hung up about things. Particularly sex and relationships.”

  Striker rolled his eyes. “Marianne, keep out of it. Leave Conal and Lott to figure out things for themselves.”

  “But…”

  Striker squeezed her fingers and his expression hardened. “Marianne.” The tone of his voice brooked no further argument.

  There was an uncomfortable silence for a few seconds, which Conal broke. “I'll head out. See you later, Sugar.” With a quick kiss on my forehead, he slipped out of the room.

  “Why do I have the feeling I just put my foot in it?” Marianne questioned, settling gracefully beside my chair.

  I was a bundle of nerves as we waited at the gates for the Fae's arrival, fretting not only over how to deal with their request, but the implications of allowing them through the gates. Not that we could stop them if they chose to come in without our agreement. The information we'd received was limited and Epi hadn't been a lot of help with ascertaining their real intentions. When they appeared on the horizon, I fidgeted anxiously, conscious of Epi's impatient glare. He'd reinforced repeatedly the need to remain calm and in control, until I wanted to scream if he repeated it yet again. The four men galloped smoothly through the thick snow, their horses kicking up a flurry of ice crystals behind their hooves.

  Epi stood by my left side, along with Matt and Ben. Conal waited on my right, with Ripley and Nick flanking him. Hidden beneath the thick coat, my skin was covered in sigils, a
precaution in case the meeting went badly.

  “Do you think they're the men who came last time?” Anxiety had amplified the morning sickness and I was both queasy and light-headed.

  “I imagine so,” Conal responded in a low voice. His tension was vibrating through the air around me, brushing up against my skin as his power amplified along with his concern.

  “Are the spirits giving you anything?” Ripley asked brusquely.

  I spoke briefly to Mom and Lucas, not for the first time this morning. Once again, both repeated their earlier advice. “They can't see anything untoward,” I reported. “Lucas says they can't read the Fae like they can humans.”

  “It's true,” Epi agreed. “The Fae mask their emotions and thoughts. The spirits will, in all probability, give you warning of impending danger should things go badly.”

  “That's comforting,” Conal muttered.

  Goren and the other horsemen drew to a halt a few feet from the gates. “Nememiah's Child,” Goren said formally, inclining his head.

  “Goren.”

  “We request entrance to Zaen.”

  “You can enter,” I offered, eyeing the four men. “But you can't bring weapons inside.”

  Goren dropped his reins and dismounted and the other three Fae followed suit. Goren offered me his hand. “Of course. A valid precaution and a wise one.”

  All were dressed in similar clothing - leather trousers, tunic and boots in varying woodland shades of brown and green. Each man had long straight hair, pulled from their faces with elaborate plaiting and intertwined gold chain, and they all had a tiny beard, plaited with an iridescent bead. Each man had eyes of a unique and unusual coloring and a quick glance confirmed they all bore similar markings to Goren, a faint, tattoo-like design across their neck which matched their eyes, and three dark tattoos across their forehead and temples. Those three markings were different on each and every man and I wondered what they signified.

  I took his hand and listened for spiritual voices, frustrated to receive nothing from him. The other Fae produced an equally negative result. Ripley caught my eye and I shook my head imperceptibly, a motion he repeated. We were running blind. I couldn't hear their spiritual ancestors, and Ripley couldn't hear their thoughts.

  Goren and I entered the city, his companions following us and closely shadowed by our group. “Zaen is an astonishing city,” Goren remarked, his astute gaze taking in the immaculate streets and newly repaired buildings. “I thought it would take longer to repair the damage you sustained in the attack.”

  I glanced at him, keeping my face smooth and emotionless. “We work fast.”

  Goren smiled indulgently. “How many people are living here?”

  Again my answer was neutrally spoken. “That really isn't your concern.”

  Goren chuckled. “This should be a fascinating discussion, if you insist on answering in such an ambiguous manner.”

  Entering the hall, I introduced Goren to the quorum members and in turn, he introduced his three companions as Caylen, Tibor and Zebon. Their skin had a faint glow, as if magic emanated from inside their bodies and they greeted everyone with the same rigid nod, remaining silent as Goren spoke for their group. They were of similar build, medium height and slim, but I imagined they were much stronger than first appearances suggested if I judged by the fluidity of their movement and the gentle flex of muscle apparent beneath the leather clothing.

  “Take your seats,” Epi requested when introductions were complete. He waited a minute until everyone settled, then spoke to Goren, offering him a semi-bow. “You may state your business, Goren.”

  “Thank you, my old friend.” Goren acknowledged Epi and stood up, his bearing showing a cool confidence with not a trace of nerves. “It is indeed remarkable to discover Nememiah's Child has drawn such a diverse group to wage war against the Drâghici Consiliului.” He paused, perusing the faces in front of him, before turning to me. “Our objective is simple. The Drâghici have kidnapped one of our own and we need the Nememiah Child's aid to recover her.”

  Epi was insistent that I speak on behalf of the city and adamant the Fae would accept nothing less. I'd protested vehemently, convinced Ben or Epi would be the better negotiators, but Epi had given no choice in the matter. I was considered Zaen's leader by the Fae and they would accept dialogue from me alone. The idea was nerve-wracking and I clenched my hands into fists to stop them trembling. “What will you offer in return?” I questioned.

  Goren paused for a split-second before he answered. “My intention is to offer the Fae's assistance in this war you fight.”

  I chewed my lower lip thoughtfully. “You intend to offer assistance? It doesn't much sound like a firm offer of help. And you aren't in a position to offer any agreement, are you? I understand the decision can only come from the Fae Queen.”

  Goren's lips twitched into an easy, yet artificial smile. “You have done your research, little one. It is true, I cannot offer you the power of the Fae at this time. However, if you will return with us to our Realm and speak to the Queen, I am certain she will listen to your request.”

  “What happened to the plan to swap Archangelo for the Fae woman?” I questioned. The nausea in the pit of my stomach was making it increasingly difficult to concentrate, but there was something strange about the way Goren was phrasing his answers. I already knew the answer to my question - I was buying time to think.

  Goren shuffled uncomfortably, but quickly regained his composure. “As I told you, we doubt the integrity of their promise to return her.”

  “Gee, there's a shocker.” The comment slipped out and a ripple of amusement filtered through the assembled group.

  Goren seemed bemused. “You have an interesting turn of phrase, little one.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Why don't we cut to the chase? What exactly do you want from us?” Despite Epi's repeated counsels about the correct etiquette when speaking to the Fae, I was struggling with the formalities. Behind Goren, Epi dropped his head into his hands.

  “We do not believe the Drâghici will co-operate with any exchange arrangement. We think they will thwart the return of our woman and force our hand to join them against you. We need your help to retrieve her.”

  “Ask him who the woman is,” Lucas demanded.

  “This woman must be someone important,” I said. “Who is she?”

  Goren narrowed his eyes and a flicker of emotion darkened the brilliant violet hue. “They kidnapped a member of the Royal Family. Who it is has no bearing on this discussion.”

  “Yes it does,” Lucas responded.

  I crossed my arms, glaring at Goren. “You want our help? Tell us who we're trying to rescue.”

  Goren held himself rigidly, his stance radiating displeasure at the sudden turn in direction. “I have to wonder why Archangelo wants you returned to him, considering how defiant you are.”

  I stared at him, the composure I was working so hard to maintain slipping. “Excuse me?”

  “Your husband. Archangelo continually states his desire that you be returned to him.” Goren's expression morphed from composed to puzzled as a ripple of hushed murmurs filtered through the room.

  “Archangelo is delusional,” I stated. “He is not my husband.”

  Goren tilted his head, eyeing me curiously. “He is not the father of your child?”

  “No!” The vehemence of my answer echoed through the deathly silent hall.

  “My apologies. He told us he was the vampire who fathered your child.”

  Epi had kept quiet for as long as he could obviously manage – now his voice rose in indignation. “Goren! You told Archangelo of Charlotte's pregnancy?”

  “I told Archangelo nothing. He was already aware of the child.” Goren stated coldly.

  Epi appeared mystified. “How could he discover this information?”

  I cringed, my eyes downcast. “It was me. I told him.” Every pair of eyes bored into me and I flinched under the intensity. “I was angry.”

 
Epi growled in frustration. “Charlotte, this is the worst possible news. If this gets back to the Drâghici, they will hunt you down to gain access to the child you carry!”

  “Get back on track, love,” Lucas ordered. “This discussion can wait.”

  Taking a deep breath, I steadied my nerves. “We need to know who the Drâghici are holding.”

  Goren's jaw tensed. “The spirits guide you well, little one.” He exchanged a glance with his three counterparts and they nodded in unison. His emotions were clearly displayed in his expression when he returned his gaze to me - he was distressed. “The Drâghici took Princess Arasinya. My wife.”

  Chapter 26: Versions of Truth

  There was stunned silence in the large hall as this admission was digested – thirty seconds later the room erupted in chaos. Epi was stunned, his blue eyes wide with shock and he again held his head in his hands. William and Conal snatched me away from Goren, and together with Ben and Striker used their bodies to create a shield between myself and the Fae.

  Goren's group surrounded him, warily watching the angry mob shouting protests. Our leaders had descended into heated pandemonium, shouting threats and warnings against the Fae and shoving one another in their attempts to reach them. Clinton had already waded into our group with Matt and some other men, forcibly pushing them back to avoid bloodshed.

  “They're lying to us!”

  “The Fae can never be trusted!”

  “Those bastards have no intention of helping us! They only worry about themselves!”

  “Kick them out of the city! Who gives a damn about their Fae bitch?”

  I met Conal's eyes, terrified by the anger and threatened violence in the hall. The morning sickness, which had until now, been held at bay through sheer willpower, rushed towards my throat and I tore free of Conal and William. Holding a hand to my mouth I sprinted for the bathroom.

  Slumped against the toilet bowl, I attempted in vain to quell both the nausea and panic, my hands trembling uncontrollably. The bathroom door opened and whooshed shut and Gabrielle spoke, crouching beside me. “Are you okay?”