The Clash of Yesterday

by Sawyer Bennett

  “He didn’t have them or wouldn’t give them, but yeah… without details, I wasn’t committing.”

  We’re both silent. I lace my fingers with his, holding them tightly on my knee. I do need to ask to make sure. “And you’re positive he’s not going to tell our families about us? Are we safe?”

  Ronan frowns slightly but shakes his head. “You know… despite me not trusting much of what he said, I don’t think he wants to hurt us in any way. Just wanted our help, and he didn’t seem put out that I declined.”

  I lean against the back cushions, my hand going out to run through Ronan’s hair. I learned early on when we returned from Brevala to Seattle that he liked me doing that. He’d almost purr like a big cat. “Still… I’d kill to know how he recognized us as fae.”

  “Maybe some magical potion or amulet someone gave him,” Ronan says, his voice deep and lazy as my fingers stroke his hair.

  I watch him for a bit as his eyes go soft and hazy. My heart squeezes, and I can’t deny what I feel for him.

  I can’t quite tell him that yet either because we’ve spent millennia hating each other and only a handful of weeks loving on each other. In our eternal lifetimes, we’ve only been together the equivalent of the blink of an eye.

  And yet… there’s something else that’s going to potentially cement this relationship.

  “I have something to tell you,” I say softly, and he’s instantly alert. Pushing up from his reclining position, which dislodges my hand from his hair, he leans toward me on the couch.

  He doesn’t look alarmed by my tone—which he shouldn’t as it was non-threatening—merely interested. “What is it?”

  My hands fold in my lap and my gaze drops there, a rare moment in my life where my confidence is a bit shaky. Ronan knows me well from our run-ins throughout history, and he knows lack of confidence isn’t my jam.

  So his hand comes to my jaw, thumb under my chin, and he forces my eyes up to his. He doesn’t say anything, but that push to make me look at him is all I need.

  I take a deep breath, and the words come out in a quavering rush. “I’m pregnant.”

  I’ve seen enough movies, read enough books, and seen enough humans go through this big type of announcement to know there can be a myriad of reactions. The one I expect from Ronan is for him to reel back as if I’d just punched him, but not because I doubt his ability to be a dad.

  I’m expecting gut-punching shock because fae don’t easily get pregnant. It’s like a miracle when it happens because the angels who were cast from heaven to earth weren’t meant to procreate. Of course, evolution happened, they became known as Light Fae, and generations eventually came, but it was a painstakingly slow process over thirty thousand years—since the dawn of modern man—for our numbers to increase. For our families to be built.

  My parents were like double-down miracles, having two children, albeit four hundred years apart.

  And so I expect Ronan to rear back in shock that this could happen, because while we’ve had a lot of sex in the last few weeks, it’s absolutely unheard of for two Light Fae to get pregnant so fast.

  But Ronan doesn’t jerk back. His hand stays on my jaw, his eyes slowly going round with astonishment, before glancing down at my belly. My hands move there protectively, and his eyes slide back up to meet mine.

  “Can I?” he asks, nodding back down again.

  Asking for permission to touch me there.

  I nod, a small smile breaking free. “Of course.”

  Taking his hand from my jaw, I bring it down to the lower portion of my stomach and flatten his palm there.

  He feels what I feel when I touch it… a warm, almost bubbly sensation. But he doesn’t feel it in his hand, he feels it in his blood.

  Fae pregnancy resembles human pregnancies in some ways. For example, our gestation is roughly the same time as a human’s, and I suspect we evolved that way so we could stay hidden in plain sight while blending into the human world. The actual birth is the same, our bodies having the same parts and mechanics that will deliver the baby from my uterus through the birth canal and into someone’s waiting hands. Even the way immortal fae children grow is on the same pace as a human child, again so they can blend in. When a fae reaches somewhere between their mid-twenties to mid-thirties, the body stops aging and becomes frozen eternally in time.

  The big difference is conception… when my fae egg joins with Ronan’s fae sperm, I can feel it. That same warm, fizzy sensation in my blood that I know Ronan is feeling right now as his hand covers our child.

  I knew it this morning after we had a quickie in the shower while getting ready for work. Ronan, getting ready much faster than me, gave me a long, searing kiss before walking out the door. I was still in my bathrobe, combing out my wet hair, when it hit me.

  That sensation started as a tiny spark and grew infinitely brighter until I could feel it spread all through my belly and through my entire body.

  And I just knew.

  We had created a fae baby.

  I wondered if I should call Ronan to tell him, or maybe even go to his work. But I knew this would be too shocking and needed to be done in private.

  “Say something,” I murmur as Ronan continues to stare at his hand covering my stomach.

  “It’s amazing,” he drawls slowly, his eyes now sparkling with awe. He lifts his gaze back to me. “We’re going to have a baby?”

  I nod.

  “You do realize how fucking impossible this is?” he continues, excitement growing in his voice. “I mean, theoretically, the odds have to be one in terabazagillion.”

  I laugh and lean forward, giving him a hard kiss. “There’s no such thing, but yes… this is freaky odd this happened to us.”

  Ronan laughs too, but not for long as his expression sobers. His hands come to my face, and he leans in close to me. “This means that what you and I have is something more than what most fae have. Carrick called it love. I scoffed because our kind doesn’t know how to love. Not the way humans do with their short lives. But he said the fact that we’re sworn enemies and we’ve come together despite the danger we’ve placed ourselves in, means that what we have is something incredibly special. I think he’s right.”

  “I think he’s right, too,” I whisper, his words touching me profoundly. Yes, fae aren’t the loving type. We’ve lived too long to be trapped by such a thing.

  And yet, I feel something for Ronan I’ve never felt in my life. Truly, it didn’t become solidified until just a moment ago when I realized he was excited about the baby.

  I think it actually is love.

  I don’t have time to ponder it further as Ronan pushes me back on the couch and covers me with his body. His mouth is on mine, and he’s kissing me so wonderfully I see stars. For a brief moment, I make note that I left the spaghetti sauce on low and there’s no chance of it burning, and then I kiss him back.

  This isn’t one of those times that the clothes come off quickly, often getting torn in the process. Instead, we kiss slowly—making it eternal like us—knowing we have nothing but time to build upon this wonderful thing we’ve found together.

  Ronan’s hand comes to my stomach again, and both of us feel that warm sensation. His head pulls up, and he grins. “Is it weird this sort of turns me on?”

  I laugh, looping my arms around his neck. “Well, everything about you turns me on so, no…not all that weird.”

  He grins, starts to lower his mouth back down to mine when suddenly… he’s gone. Flying backward off me and sailing across my living room to crash over the top of the kitchen island, disappearing over and tumbling to the floor.

  I’m a warrior by nature, and I know there’s danger even though I don’t quite know what it is. I scramble up from the couch, conjuring an iron dagger in my hand just as I take in my sister Rishka standing there with fury blazing in her eyes.

  “How dare you let that thing touch you like that?” she hisses, spit flying from her mouth.

  “Rishka,”
I say cautiously, wondering how in the hell to explain this to her. How do I defend something she’d never understand?

  “You’re an abomination to our family,” she snarls, and to my horror, she conjures a bow and arrow, which is already nocked and ready to let fly. With a pit in my stomach, I realize it’s aimed for that soft spot right between my eyes.

  A kill shot.

  “Please… Rishka,” I implore. “I’m your sister.”

  “And not one member of our family will think I did the wrong thing by this,” she retorts angrily, pulling the string back just a little tighter. “And as soon as this arrow finds its mark, I’m going to put one in that filth you were letting touch you.”

  I start to tell her I’m pregnant, not sure if that will appeal to any decency she has or infuriate her even more, but before I can even open my mouth, Ronan is crashing into her back so forcefully while roaring in a fury that they both go crashing down on my coffee table, rendering it to splinters along with her bow.

  Ronan is beyond enraged. He jumps up, picking Rishka up by the back of her clothing, and slings her into the wall. I wince, not in any worry for my sister, but hoping none of the residents on either side of me can hear this.

  He’s too fast for her even to get her bearings because he’s got her pinned to the wall with his forearm against her throat and the tip of an iron dagger pressing into the delicate skin just under her chin. One hard drive upward and she’d die the moment it penetrated her brain.

  “Ronan… don’t,” I yell, picking my way over the broken table to them. “Don’t kill her.”

  “Why not?” he growls, his face getting in close to Rishka’s. “This bitch was going to kill you just now. There was no hesitation, either.”

  “You both deserve to die,” Rishka shrieks, then her eyes slide to mine. She looks fevered and insane. “But before I kill you, I’m going to take your wings off with a dull hacksaw.”

  I shudder, the image too gruesome to even comprehend.

  And then… she’s gone.

  Having bent distance so quickly that Ronan never had a chance to shove the dagger into her. And despite her threats just now, I’m grateful.

  “Son of a fucking bitch,” he barks in frustration. Wheeling on me, he demands, “You made me hesitate.”

  “She’s my sister,” I implore.

  “She’s a nutjob is what she is,” he grumbles, the dagger disappearing from his hand, which then goes to his hair to rake through it in irritation. “You’re not safe here now. She can come back at any time to kill you.”

  “I can handle myself,” I retort.

  “Yeah, well fuck that,” he snarls back. “I’m taking care of you now. You, me, and our baby are leaving. Going somewhere safe until we can figure out what to do.”

  Part of me hates his high-handedness, but most of my being is charmed and warmed by his protectiveness of our baby and me.

  How can I not love him?

  I nod in agreement, and he jerks a chin toward the bedroom. “Let’s get you packed. We won’t stay in my condo as I don’t know if Rishka knows about it. I’m thinking a trip to Paris sounds good tonight. What do you think?”

  There’s no stopping the smile that comes to my face. Even though my sister just tried to kill me, and most likely my family will want the same, a romantic trip to Paris to hide out until we can figure out what to do sounds like heaven to me.

  CHAPTER 11

  Ronan

  This is either going to work or Eliana and I will die today. It’s a gamble I wasn’t willing to take, but Eliana wanted a permanent resolution.

  We stayed in Paris for a few days, trying to figure out what to do. My suggestion—and I still think the best idea—is to disappear into the world together and leave Brevala and our families far behind. They won’t come looking for us, but it will mean we could never return. We’d be banished and shunned forever.

  I pointed out to Eliana that this was the best idea because we didn’t go to Brevala that much anyway. She and I—independent of each other—had committed ourselves to living in the Earth realm centuries ago. We could remain here, moving around as we age out of our societal circles. We’ve each traveled the world a hundred times over, but now we could do it together.

  And we could do it with our child.

  We would be a fae family living among humans and it was not only workable, but it was also the safest.

  To my surprise, Eliana wanted to try to make amends. I didn’t understand it because even though Rishka wants to kill her now, she’d never been that close to her anyway. It wasn’t like she was losing an important relationship.

  Her father, Arnus, I wasn’t sure of. He didn’t like that Eliana left Brevala, but I watched him cheer her on at the games in Faere, and he clearly has pride and affection for her.

  I suspect the real reason Eliana isn’t ready to give up on our home is, Rishka and Arnus aside, she has a great relationship with many in her extended family in Faere. Those ties are obviously important to her.

  They’re important to me, too. I’m incredibly close to my uncle Geseph, who has never begrudged me wanting to travel outside our realm. I enjoy visiting and being around my family because we’re a pretty easy-going clan outside of the feud.

  Yeah, I’d be giving up a lot to leave Brevala behind forever, but the way I see it, I was gaining so much more. A woman I’ve fallen in love with who will bear our miracle child.

  But as I said, Eliana prevailed and convinced me to try.

  She called for an official Summit, something I had never heard of. Apparently, there’s an old-standing tradition between the feuding Meadowlanders and Bluff Dwellers that if there is an issue that could affect both sides equally, a truce against violence would be agreed upon and a meeting held at the borderlands.

  Eliana dispatched messages to Arnus requesting the Summit but did not explain other than important information needed to be discussed. Of course, Arnus would know all about what had happened from Rishka.

  I dispatched a message to Geseph to let him know exactly what was going on so he’d at least have a heads-up and wouldn’t be so shocked to learn that Rishka was in a killing mood. I knew my uncle well enough to realize that while he was going to be disappointed I was with a Meadowlander, he would never banish me from the family.

  To Eliana’s delight and my disappointment, both sides agreed to a Summit. While the agreement is to a non-violent truce, we have no clue if it will hold and I’m worried what will happen if violence breaks out. While I’ll go down fighting to the death to defend Eliana and our child, my immediate plan isn’t to even stick around and engage. If I sense anything bad, I’m bending distance and flashing our asses out of there to a far, faraway place, and we’re never going back.

  Eliana comes out of the bathroom of our hotel suite in Paris. She’s dressed in a pair of jeans, a flannel shirt, and hiking boots. She couldn’t look anymore non-Brevalian if she tried, and I know this was intentional for her to show her family that she’s not part of them anymore.

  Not the way they want her to be.

  I’m also in jeans and a t-shirt, dressed for comfort and ready to hightail it out of there if necessary.

  “You ready to go?” she asks, pulling her long hair up into a ponytail.

  “No,” I reply honestly. “I want one last chance to talk you out of this craziness and let’s move on with our lives. I just don’t understand why it’s so important to you to be accepted.”

  Sighing, she moves into me… arms going around my waist. It’s crazy how natural this feels, like she was made to be in my embrace.

  Maybe she was. I’m thinking fate has had a hand in us coming together.

  “I just want to try,” she says softly, head tipped back to look up to me. “I want to see if we can end this feud once and for all. And if we can’t, I won’t have any regrets for not having tried.”

  Nothing new. Same argument she’s been feeding me the last few days.

  “There’s something else, th
ough,” she says hesitantly. “I’ve just started thinking about what Carrick Byrne told you, and, if it’s true there’s a prophecy that will doom earth, we may need Brevala.”

  “To fight?” I ask with a frown.

  “No. To ensure we have a place to live so we can survive.”

  I had not thought of that.

  Hadn’t thought much of Carrick and his cryptic words and innuendos. But she actually has a good point. Brevala would be a safe place for us if the Earth realm perishes.

  Well, assuming Eliana can get them to end the feud.

  “Let’s do this,” I say, taking her hand in mine. Bending, I brush my lips against hers. “And as we agreed, first sign of trouble, we flash right back here. Okay?”

  “Okay,” she says with a smile.

  “Don’t fight,” I say with a pointed look, then move my other hand to her belly. I get a warm whoosh through my body. “We have more important things in our life than defending our values to people who might not want to change.”

  “Understood.” She nods her head once, then gives me a snappy salute.

  “Smartass.” Another kiss, hopefully not our last if we’re flashing into an ambush. “I love you, Meadowlander.”

  Eliana blinks in surprise, but her astonishment doesn’t last long. Instead, her smile curves and her eyes brighten with delight. “I love you, too, Bluff Dweller.”

  * * *

  We bend distance right to the outcropping of rocks that overlook Cernian Lake. The actual waterfall that feeds into it is on the Bluff Dweller’s side, but this plateau of flat slate surrounded by boulders is about as dead center on the border between the two lands as you can get.

  It’s also big enough to hold the several members of each family who are attending, and when we step into the middle of the plateau, I immediately take in that both clans are there. The Meadowlanders dressed for battle in their armor and hugging the western side. The Bluff Dwellers more casual in tunics and pants, but able to conjure armor and weapons in a blink if they want. They are as far east as the boulders will let them go on the flat rock.