8. Chapter Eight
Charmaine
The sight of Nicholas in William’s office shouldn’t have surprised Charmaine, but she struggled to contain her whimper. Seeing him reminded her of Fearworn, the overwhelming stench of copper, claws ripping through her flesh, and wild-eyes peering down at her body laying over a cold stone slab.
“Good morning, Charmaine,” Nicholas chirped as if their meeting were as normal as friends joining for an early breakfast. He waved a hat—Denison’s—and meandered toward the door. “I fear I do not have time to chat. I have missing patients to find. Let us catch up later.”
He disappeared. Both gazed at the doorway, their breaths held until she finally faced him.
“What’s going on?” she whispered.
“Nicholas offered his help.” William’s hands shook when reaching into the drawer of his desk.
She accepted the cannabis cigarette he offered. William lit one of his own and fell into his chair, deflated.
“Based on this,” she took a long breath, then released a plume of smoke, “that isn’t all the two of you discussed.”
“No, he’s obsessed, Charmaine, like Fearworn was, but his obsession is apparently me.” William laughed, hollow and cold. He pressed two fingers to his temple where a vein throbbed. “He told me once that becoming like Fearworn was his greatest fear and now he’s down that path because of me.”
“How could you possibly blame yourself for that?”
“My wounds from Fearworn were fatal. The deal Nicholas struck with Laurent was because of me. That’s how I got,” he raised his right hand, glaring at his glove, then let it fall on the desk, “Nicholas fell because he thought I died, because I would have died. Now he’s back and we need the help.
He may actually find my missing patients, but being around me cannot be good for him. ”
She went over to the couch, moving a few papers to make space to sit. “Do you think he’s in a position to help, given his current condition? Does he feel like a threat?”
William’s hesitation answered enough.
“We may be desperate, but if he can harm others and you, then maybe he shouldn’t help.
” She had few answers, either. She understood where William was coming from.
They had every right to worry and every right to hope Nicholas could help.
Fae were dangerous, and they were useful.
The war proved that, and they needed someone dangerously useful at the moment.
“I don’t know if I can refuse him. You should have seen him earlier.
He,” William took another drag, then licked his lips.
“He said he loved me, but it isn’t love.
This is an obsession, no different from Fearworn and his monsters.
I said this, and he did not take it well.
The mere mention of me not returning his feelings made the entire building shake. ”
“Would returning his feelings possibly help his condition?”
William may have the best poker face anyone ever saw, but she knew of all the dreadful nights, the daydreams, how he crumbled at the loss of Nicholas.
They shared every thought, spent many of their worst days together because no one else understood.
When Charmaine had nightmares where she awoke screaming, it was William she went to the next day.
It was William’s home she stayed at when she knew another nightmare would come because neither of them had to explain.
On the days when William couldn’t stand being home, when he thought he upset his family, he came to her shop.
She and her mother lived on the floor above.
Though their home paled compared to the Vandervult estate, William said he slept like a baby on the couch.
If he woke up, if he couldn’t sleep, they’d stay up all night drinking tea or talking about the weather, anything to keep the demons at bay.
Charmaine’s mother cried through many nights, unsure of what to do or say to help her.
Survivors carried scars others couldn’t understand.
She couldn’t put these feelings into words, either, and she didn’t want to.
Neither could William, so they found solace in each other and ways to ease the worst symptoms.
“You still love him,” she said, causing a miniscule twitch of his eye. “Do you want to be together? Do you think this is a chance worth taking?”
“I don’t know, and I don’t want to think about it.” William slammed the cigarette into an ashtray. He hadn’t denied loving Nicholas, either. “The missing patients matter more. That is what I’m focusing on and if Nicholas can help, then I’m grateful.”
A knock sounded at the door. Even if William’s slumped shoulders said he didn’t have the energy to deal with another visitor, he called for them to enter.
Josef waltzed through, one hand waving erratically.
“Does anyone care to explain why a fae was here? The nurses won’t shut up about it and there is at least twice as much piss on the floor. ”
“Good morning, Josef.” William glanced at the clock on his wall. “What are you doing here? Don’t you take the night shifts?”
Charmaine sat a little taller and inspected for any wrinkles in her dress.
She finished making the garment about a month ago with the pale blue fabric she and her mom bought recently.
The court ladies have adored the color. They almost ran out before she could make a dress for herself.
She was glad to have worn it today, waiting and hopeful that Josef might say something.
Josef had gone to war, but they never ran into one another.
When he returned, he couldn’t hold down a job, like many others.
Once thrown on the streets, he heard of William’s clinic and became one of their patrol guards.
Although he mostly helped nurses with heavy lifting and provided something nice to look at.
No one could deny he was handsome with those dimpled cheeks, that firm jaw, and muscular arms that most of his jackets couldn’t fully contain.
“Good morning,” Josef said with a tip of his hat. Dark bags surrounded his deep blue eyes. Warmth blossomed behind her cheeks when Josef smiled at her. “And good morning to you, Miss Charmaine.”
She offered a smile, worried that it may be too enthusiastic, but Josef made no mention of it, or her dress. She deflated a little.
Josef nodded toward the door. “So, what was a fae doing here?”
“His name is Nicholas. We fought together,” William replied. “He is the one the kings threw a party for. He has offered to help with those missing patients I’ve mentioned.”
Josef wore the same concern others had. “What did he want in exchange for his help?”
“You don’t need to worry about it. If he can help, he will. Are you here to talk about anything?” William replied.
“Unfortunately, yeah, I think there are two more missing people.”
Charmaine finished the last of the cigarette, already wishing for another.
Her doctor had offered her the same solutions as William, though she tried not to partake too frequently.
She found focusing on stitching did best for her rattled mind, the monotonous work where she had complete control, knowing exactly what to do, how to do it, and if a problem appeared, she could easily fix it.
That brought her a sense of comfort, joy, and much pride, far more than serving her kingdom ever did.
“Who?” William asked, frustrated.
“Victoria and Chester. They usually come late when I’m watchin’ the door, but I haven’t seen them for a while.
They haven’t been to the soup kitchen either.
When they didn’t show up, I went to their tents.
They weren’t there and haven’t shown up in three days.
Their neighbors said they haven’t seen them either,” Josef replied.
“You went to their tents?” William hissed before she could.
She and William agreed to never go to any of the locations alone.
They went together, in case of trouble, and Josef certainly shouldn’t go.
He didn’t have the Sight and, while he was a big guy, they did not know what they were dealing with.
If any of the beasts they went up against during the war were the ones wreaking havoc, then muscle wouldn’t be enough.
Josef fingered the brim of his hat. “Well, yeah, I had to see if they were there. I thought maybe they weren’t feelin’ well.”
“It could have been dangerous,” said Charmaine.
Josef puffed out his chest. “I can take care of myself.”
“You shouldn’t go looking into anything alone. We don’t know what we’re up against and we don’t want anyone else to get hurt,” she said.
Josef frowned. “You’re right. Sorry, I just wanted to check in.”
“Can you tell me what you saw? Was there anything peculiar?” William asked, while making note of Victoria and Chester’s name.
“Not peculiar, no. There’s a nasty owner of a matchbox warehouse that sneers at those like us when we pass by, but I don’t think he has the guts, or the connections, to orchestrate this.” Josef yawned and his eyes watered. “This is getting worse, isn’t it? People are disappearing fast.”
“Yes, and I appreciate your concern, but please, leave this to us. Why don’t you head home? You need your rest.”
“I should head to the shop, too,” she said, standing.
“Ah, I can walk you,” Josef offered, making her toes curl in her heels.
“That’s a great idea,” William said before she could interject.
The warmth in her cheeks spread to her hairline.
Any excuse she could conjure fell silent.
It wasn’t like she didn’t want to walk with Josef.
Quite the opposite, in fact. But Josef made her heart palpitate.
He was charming and handsome, everything she could ever want.
However, being around Josef reminded her of who she was, no matter how much she tried to be someone else.