Forever His True Mate

Chapter 11

          Conor lay on his back staring at the ceiling. He had spent the night reminiscing and thinking about Camille and her willful witch of a grandmother. Even though he was not a creature who could perform magics, he could still feel the powerful aura that the woman exuded. It was an intensified version of Camille’s aura. Did Camille not know that she held the power of her bloodline? His brow furrowed as he thought to himself. His mind drifted and the ceiling that he had been studying so intently melted away.

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          Conor was laying naked on Miranda’s soft feather mattress. The two had just finished making love and were discussing their life. She revealed to him that she was 200 years older than him. “I am a witch who has lived longer than any witch because I serve the will of the Goddess.” Conor lifted and eyebrow. “Serve the will of the Goddess?” He questioned as he played with her long raven black locks. She sighed deeply. “Yes. I come from a long line of powerful witches. We have served the will of the Goddess on earth since the beginning of man. I took over the duty when I gained my powers as a young adult. Serving the Goddess  has youthful benefits. Until the Goddess finds a witch better suited for the job or I disgrace her, I will age much more slowly than the average human. After which I will then age regularly. However, I can still extend my life for quite some time being a witch.” She explained. “I see. So, are you still in service? You seem to have more than enough time to come up with questionable schemes and s*x with me” He asked with a grin on his face. “I am. But the Goddess hasn’t called me in quite some time. I don’t mind though. I get to spend my time with you. If we find our mates, we are allowed to discontinue service to the Goddess and keep our youth.” She caressed his are as she waited for his response. She was worried that he wouldn’t accept her as a mate if he knew that she would live a few more hundred years.  “Hmmm.” was all Conor said as he began to massage her breast. He knew that she thought they were mates. He didn’t have the heart to tell her that true mates received marks. They would share a bond strong enough to hear the thoughts of the other and Conor had not seen signs of either. He hoped he wouldn’t hurt her she was a nice girl, but he had seen her jealously even though they both agreed that things were purely physical. He could tell she was falling in love with him and has he continued his ministrations of her body, he thanked whatever deity she believed in that she was so easily distracted.

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          Conor sighed as the ceiling came back into focus. He wished he could go back. He would have confessed to Miranda the truth about how mates worked. Instead he had let her stay blind and not only had he paid the price, but Stephanie and Victoria had also paid. He glanced towards the window. The beginnings of morning were fast approaching and Conor refused to lay and recall the look in Miranda’s eyes as she watched him approach her with Stephanie in his arms and she realized what was happening followed by the look on her face as she cursed Stephanie and watched her fall dead from the horse. The laughter that came from her was deranged and triumphant. It had haunted his dreams. He had begun to feel hope though. He wasn’t sure why, but meeting Camille had given him that hope and seeing the mark beginning to form not only solidified that hope but brought with it a dark cloud of dread.

          Conor rose from the bed and walked silently down the hall and to the kitchen. He began to search the cabinets for things to make coffee. “Cheri, It’s there.” A soft voice came from behind him. He turned suddenly and spotted Camille’s Grandmother. She had a soft smile on her face as she padded into the kitchen wearing a flowing pastel colored gown covered in florals. Her feet donned slippers that were fluffy and a soft pink color with bunny ears. She sat at the small modest kitchen table and watched as Conor moved throughout her kitchen. After he was done and the coffee began to fill the room with the warm aroma, he looked at the old woman. “So please tell me, how did you know?” He asked softly. He didn’t want to risk being overheard though he would hear if anyone stirred. “I have been alive a long-time young man and know the stories of your kind. I also know, that like humans, not all of you are evil creatures. Some just want to exist in peace. You have a dark cloud around you my boy. At first I thought it was from what you are… those like you normally carry a darker aura depending on how violently they live your lives. However, I can tell from the way that you are able to be around and interact with humans, that you are not as dark as your aura suggests. You sir seem to have had a run in with a witch and it seems a very powerful one at that if judging by your aura.” She explained to him. The experience and authority in her voice convinced him that she was indeed the wise woman that everyone has been saying she was. “Yes, ma’am.” He began. “My name is Claudette young man. Please use my name if you intend to remain with us.” She interrupted him with a raised hand and which she lowered gently onto his cheek with a slight pat. The gesture made him smile brightly. “Please, tell me what you did to deserve such a dark thing.” She said as she got up and went to fix herself a cup of coffee. Conor sighed as he recounted his story. He told her how he had been a coward and lead a powerful priestess of the Goddess on. “Oh.” Claudette’s eyes grew large. Conor twisted to look behind him and ascertain what it was that had caused the woman such surprise. “What was the name of this woman?” She questioned through slit eyes. “Miranda. Why? Have you heard of her?” Conor was confused, but not all that surprised. Miranda was a very powerful witch. Claudette look upon Conor with a new pity. “She was a priestess of the Goddess until she disgraced her by killing an innocent. And casting a very dark curse. You wouldn’t happen to be the recipient of that curse, would you?” She tried to be delegate as she prodded him for information. “Yes. She cursed me. Killed my true mate because she wasn’t. Now every mate I find is destined to die. Until I find a practitioner of Wiccan magic who becomes of night.” He said using hand quotations and a voice that oozed resentment at himself. “You have any idea what that means?” He looked her in the eyes and searched with hope. “I have an idea. Is that why you followed Camille here? Because you think she is this Wiccan Miranda’s curse spoke of?” He broke eye contact to glace in his hands that were folded on the table. “Yes. But I’m afraid the curse will come to fruition before anything is realized because our true mate marks have already begun.” He waited for the elder woman’s reaction. He expected anger. He expected to be berated with guilt for not thinking before involving her granddaughter in his deadly life. Instead her expression softened. “She is your true mate chéri? Do you want this?” Her voice was deadpan. “Absolutely. I feel a stronger bond to her than to any other. Its like breathing fresh are after being buried alive. I loved the first two women with everything that I am. Camille makes me want to be the things that I never thought I could.” He said as he wrung his hangs together. Claudette chuckled lightly. “Chéri l'amour est une affaire sérieuse.” Conor chuckled as well. “Yes, indeed ma’am, love is definitely serious business.” He stopped chuckling when the woman gave him a death stare. “I’m sorry, Claudette” He hastily corrected and the smile that had graced her lips returned instantaneously. “Why did you brew coffee if you won’t drink any.?” She asked puzzled when she realized that he hadn’t gotten a cup. “I just enjoy the smell. I can’t drink any without getting sick and I really don’t like the feeling, so I keep a strict blood only diet.” He explained calmly and was quite impressed when she didn’t flinch. “What will you do about that since you are away from home base?” Though she believed that he wouldn’t harm a person in her home, she began to worry about the rest of the people in the general area. Her friends and neighbors. Conor could see that worry and doubt form in her mind on her face. “I will set up a post office box and order my blood online. I brought a small supply so it is best that I do it as soon as possible if you think that I could get a ride.” His voice took on a pleading tone at the end trying not to seem like he was begging. He hated to be dependent on others for anything, but when you rushed to catch a flight to chase after the love of your life, you didn’t have the foresight to contact a rental agency. Claudette looked at him with amusement in her eyes. “of course. You can use my car. I haven’t driven it in some time so I'm sure it could use the excursion.” She said and pointed to a key hook that was hung by a door with a small square window in it that was cover by sheer curtains that added to the cheeriness of the large kitchen.

          Conor and Claudette chatted easily as she questioned him about his life and intentions. Conor felt as though he should be telling all these thing to Camille and he said as much to her. “Camille has not yet come fully into her power. She knows her family’s history and has been preparing for the day her true powers emerge. I don’t think she is ready to know that there are other beings out there.” She explained with confidence in her voice. “I think you’re wrong. She is old enough and will soon have no choice but to accept it. Especially since my mark has begun.” He relied and looked defiantly at the woman who let out a sigh. “I suppose you are right. She is no longer a little girl and to treat her as such is to hold her back.” The admission seemed to age the woman slightly as the pair of them watch the sky grow lighter and listened as the birds begin to sing their songs announcing the arrival of a new day.