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Conquest: The Horsemen Series by Justine Littleton (4)

CHAPTER FOUR

CONNOR

TWENTY MINUTES EARLIER…

“If I am to meet with a disappointment, the sooner I know it, the more of life I shall have to wear it off.” Thomas, my friend, you were wise and a damn good drinking buddy.

The search for Kayne was wearing on me. I was sleeping maybe four hours a night, if I was lucky enough to shut off my brain. As much as I didn’t want to break Falcone’s heart, I knew as time went on—and with the very real possibility of a weapon that could end our brother’s life once and for all—that the idea would thread its way into Warren’s strategies. This caused a lot of fighting between us all. It didn’t help that Falcone had Julie and, at times, Fallon taking his side. I tried to remain neutral as much as possible. I understood both sides, I did. It seemed that Falcone and the girls had got a glimpse of the brother we all once knew and loved, but it was only a glimpse, and with Kayne, those were few and fleeting.

Dean was still pissed Julie had been in danger, and it wasn’t getting any better since the brother-who-shall-die, also known as Kayne, was the reason they had their third fight that week. Though, I think part of that might have been because Dulie liked make-up sex. Warren, on the other hand, had a damn good reason for wanting Kayne dead. He had nursed that hate for a very long time. If the time comes, I don’t think I can stand in his way. With that cheerful thought, the elevator doors opened for me. I’d just finished showering after following another worthless lead earlier that afternoon.

Ms. H had texted that she had a few accounts I needed to sign off and approve changes, so I was on the way up to the office before I appropriated some supper off one of my brothers. My head was down as I typed out my text to Mr. Grumpy to test my theory, heading in the general direction of my office—

“Oomph” was all the person in front of me managed to get out as she went down quicker than Paula Deen would sign up for a butter convention. Only to quickly shift to her knees and gather her scattered crap. Seriously, why do women carry so much? You only need a wallet and a phone.

“Shit, sorry. I wasn’t even looking.” I was about to drop down and help when I had to lock my knees to remain standing. The moment I started speaking, her head snapped back and I got a look at heaven. My heaven.

With blonde frizzy curls, huge nerd-frame glasses, no makeup, and the bluest eyes I’d ever seen, she was an unpolished version of every wet dream I had ever had. She was the unrefined version of Taylor Swift, à la “You Belong with Me,” and I already had a semi from just gazing at her.

“It was my fault. I was rushing and not paying attention, Mr. Apocalos.” The little enchantress quietly apologized. Fuck, her smoky voice alone has my dick twitching. She gathered the last of her belongings while I stood watching like a useless twat, still trying to determine if I was dreaming or if Dean was fucking with me for using his razor to trim my pubes without his knowledge until a week later—and he’d used it a couple of time in that week. Yeah, that had to be it. Dean knew I had been doing the corporate paperwork in the evenings, and had hired someone to screw with my head since I’d admitted drunkenly one night to my obsession with a certain singer. Joke was on him because the mousey version of my dream girl was about to make my night, shit… my decade.

My lips hitched into a half smile as I thought things through. I wanted to carry out every lecherous desire on her and break my self-imposed dry spell. Dean would be getting a bottle of that Irish whiskey he loved so much and a damn kiss next time I saw him. A plan started to form, and I couldn’t wait to have her in my bed. With those blonde curls spread upon the pillowcase below me as I took my time making love to her, marking her mine forever—
What. The. Fuck! Making love? Forever? Where the hell did that shit come from?

My dumbass was back in a state of shock, wide-eyed and jaw hanging as she finished and began to stand. What happened next was like being struck in the balls by lightning. Her eyes hit mine as she grabbed my hand and introduced herself.

“I’m Nicolette. It’s nice to finally meet you.”

Nicolette.

The name and touch sealed it.

She’s my freaking mate!

My mate.

I had a mate. I didn’t know whether to rejoice or upchuck. I was leaning toward the latter. Yeah, I had been a little jealous of Dean’s recent monogamous happiness, but that didn’t mean I had wanted a mate. Girlfriend, yes. Mate, one chick to bang for the rest of eternity? Er… that thought scared the ever-loving fuck out of me.

“I have to go,” I squeaked like a prepubescent loser, turned on my heel, and took off toward the elevators. Thank fuck I hadn’t made it far down the hall from the exit before I’d knocked my mate on her ass.

Wait. No, the elevator would take too long. Stairs. Switching directions, I felt her hurt and confusion through the mate bond only faintly as I put distance between us. It was all too much. I began to hyperventilate as I hit the stairs. My mate’s feelings drifted back. A new sensation hit hard.

Need.

I needed to be with her, to comfort her, protect her, and to see for myself that she was okay. Fuck. Was this what Dean had been dealing with all this time? No wonder the wanker became such a pussy.

“Connor, damn it. ANSWER US!”

I’d been in such a state I hadn’t even noticed my bothers trying to reach out to me across our connection. It was Falcone who finally broke through; he always was the heart of our brotherhood. Of course they’d all felt my emotions too as Fate yanked the rug out from under my feet. God, Fate was such a crafty bitch.

“I’m here, sorry. My wall was up and I was a bit distracted,” I responded as I leaned forward, my forearms against the landing rail as I took long, deep calming breaths.

“What’s happening? Where are you? Has there been another breach? I thought you went to the office in the evenings? Why were you not responding—”

“Christ, Warren, shut the fuck up and give him a chance to answer,” Dean cut in.

“Are you hurt, Connor?” Falcone asked. “We were hit with so much emotion that the only thing I could ascertain for sure was that you’re upset and in a state of shock. Explains why it took us so long to break through.”

“No, Falcone, I’m not hurt. And Warren, we’re still secure so you can stand down. I’ll meet everyone in twenty in the main floor meeting room and explain. And no girls allowed!” I quickly added, and shut down the link between us. They would have felt me calming down as we spoke, so it wouldn’t be much of an issue, but I needed a few minutes alone before I joined them to explain.

Holy crap, I have a mate. The thought kept swirling around in my mind as I ran along. I clutched at my head and heart. Both ached in different ways, my mind from her emotions bombarding me, and my heart for the distance I was creating between us.

It was a good thirty minutes at least before I had my shit together enough to make it down to our residence floor. Lucky thirteen. In that time I had to place a shield up in my mind to block me from my mate’s feelings—she was confused, annoyed and just all over the place. Women were crazy with how much they could feel in one moment. I shuddered, Julie had warned me their emotions were worse when they were on their period. I suddenly had the urge to go and buy the store out of chocolate and sanitary pads in the event of war… I meant, those times of need.

“About goddamn time, princess. I have more important shit to do than to sit around waiting for you to grace us with your presence and give us a fucking explanation as to why I pissed all over my damn bathroom wall for you. Julie is going to fucking kill me,” Dean barked as I entered the meeting room.

“Why would you be peeing on the walls? Don’t you think you’re taking this mating thing a little too far if you are literally marking your territory?” Falcone asked, which earned him a smack up the back of the head.

Dean snorted. “No, you knob. I was in the pisser when this tool lost his cool and sent telepathic mayhem through our link. I lost control midstream right up the damn wall.”

Oh shit, that was too funny. Dean had pissed on the wall in shock. I gasped for breath and doubled over in laughter.

Falcone rubbed his head and said, “Oh, and ew! I hope you at least washed your hands.”

Warren slammed his fist into the table. “If you ladies are quite done, I really do have shit to do. I need to know what the hell is going on so I can assess the security risks.” Warren was such a stick in the mud, and just when I was beginning to feel more myself again.

Sighing, I pulled myself together and joined my brothers at the table. I pressed my lips together and fidgeted in my seat as I tried to come up with the words to explain.

“Connor, the king of commentary, at a loss for words? Oh, this is rich. I can’t wait to hear what has you so bloody tongue-tied.” Warren lost some of his agitation as he took enjoyment in my uncomfortable posture.

After a quick glance at his watch, Falcone gently prompted me. “Why don’t you start from the beginning? It’s what, eight thirty now? Lately, you’ve been going into the office to catch up with HHF and sign off on things for Mary around this time, right? So what happened when you got there?” He had said Ms. H’s name longingly, dropping his eyes to the table and slightly blushing. Geez, the old broad sure did a number on him. It had ended over forty years ago, but he still had a soft spot for her. If she hadn’t called it off, he may have made an honest woman of her. Mates be damned.

However, Ms. H knew the prophecy, knew one of two things would happen; either she would continue to age and die, while he stood by and watched, or Falcone would meet his mate, and no matter how much he loved Mary, he would leave her. With a no-win in their future, they made the most of ten years together, then went separate ways after her thirtieth birthday. They had both been heartsore ever since, throwing themselves into their work, never truly healing or moving on, but coping the best they could. Having felt the strength of the mating bond—even now it was calling to me to find her, seek her out—I understood that if Falcone had met his mate, it would have been impossible for him. And with that sad tangent to the past, I was back to the present matter at hand. So after a deep breath, I grew a set and said the dreaded words aloud.

“I found my mate.”

The room was dead, and then, as if on a count of three, they exploded in shouting voices and activity.

Dean let out a boom of laughter and fell off his chair with tears streaming down his face. Well, I guessed he was owed that after I’d spent months torturing him, but damn it, this was my time of need! As I watched the asshole roll around on the floor, I vaguely heard Warren and Falcone shooting off question after question. Who was she, where was she, why did I leave her, and so on. Warren seemed to becoming more and more agitated.

“This can’t be fucking happening. Give her back. No more mates. We don’t need any more women. I don’t want a goddamn mate!” Warren was shouting by the end, clearly losing his shit. He shoved both fists in his hair and paced the room with visible agitation. We all knew why the idea of being committed to a female upset him; you didn’t get over that kind of betrayal.

I stabbed my finger toward the fuckboy still flailing on the floor. “It’s his fucking fault. He set the whole fucking thing up! Now I’m stuck with one chick, regardless of how hot she is, for the rest of eternity. What kind of best friend are you?”

That got their attention.

Dean sat up on the floor and wiped the remnants of hilarity off his face before he asked, “What the hell are you talking about?”

“Don’t play dumb with me. You set this up. You were still pissed about me using your razor on my pubes and decided to get even. Who else would have sent me what amounted to a virginal Taylor Swift to fuck with my head?”

“Hold on, let me check,” Dean answered. He pulled out his phone and began texting—I assumed to Julie, since almost all his other contacts were in this room.

“Fuck me. I didn’t even consider those two devious wenches,” I mumbled as I sat back down. Julie and Fallon were both definitely clever and capable enough to pull it off.

“O for three, because she’s having dinner with Fallon, and they have no clue,” Dean responded after a short wait. His phone pinged again. “Oh, and the girls say felicitations!” Wow, they were really breaking out the thesaurus on that one. Their latest hobby was to unearth words no longer popular, then use them in conversations with us.

“Then who is she, damn it? I should lock down the building and scan the surveillance feeds,” Warren barked.

“Shit, cool your jets for a sec, GI Jackass, and let me think,” I growled, and leaned forward, dropping my elbows to my knees and my head to my hands. I was getting a headache, not to mention the gnawing need to check on my mate that had been eating at my conscience since I took that first step away from her.

Nicolette.

Nicolette.

Go to her, run to her. Hunt her, find her, and make her mine.

Yeah, it was so not the time to listen to those thoughts.

“Perhaps she said or did something that would be a clue as to her identity and why she was in the building. You met her in the building, correct?” Falcone calmly attempted to verify.

Taking a deep breath in a pathetic endeavor to relax, I lifted my head to look at them as I dropped my hands back to my lap. With one last deep sigh, I answered him. “Yeah, Fal. I was heading to my office and was screwing with my phone when I plowed into her. I was apologizing when she looked up, and I thought it was a prank. Then she said something else that I didn’t hear over the rush of blood heading to my cock at the sound of her voice. Then after she introduced herself and shook my hand, I fucking lost it. It all happened at once and it was too much. I—ah, ran.” God, I felt like such a pussy. “You know, I saved a nun once. Why am I being punished?” I wasn’t sulking. Honest.

Dean grinned. “Maybe because after you gave her the Heimlich, you took her back to your place and slept with her.”

“Hey, she was questioning her faith. I was obligated to help her seek answers in her time of need,” I defended.

Warren interrupted my professions for sainthood by clipping out, “Falcone, I will strangle the bloody bitch myself if we don’t start making progress. I need to know if she’s a threat that needs to be neutralized.”

I was out of my seat and across the table in nanoseconds. I would have attempted to wrap my hand around the prick’s tree trunk of a neck if Dean hadn’t tackled me halfway across the table and pinned me to the floor.

“Don’t ever threaten my mate!” I shouted from my position under Dean. I had seen red as soon as the words left Warren’s mouth, and I wasn’t thinking straight. Dean saved me from one hell of a beating. I couldn’t have taken Warren; none of us could on our own. And yet, I was still trying to fight my way to Warren for saying that crap.

Dean shook me hard, trying to get me to respond and see reason. I could feel my entire body vibrate with the need to defend and protect my mate. Shit, I’d only met her once and I was already messed up. Clenching my jaw and squeezing my eyes shut, I worked on reeling my fury back in.

“You good?” Dean confirmed before letting me up.

Warren stood, fists balled at his sides, eyes squinting. He was pissed and possibly slightly hurt by my assumption. “I would never harm my brother’s mate.”

“Nicolette. Her name is Nicolette.” Even saying her name aloud seemed to center me, allowing me to further calm myself. I picked up the chair I’d knocked over and sat back down, the others following suit. “I believe she could be the new assistant Ms. H hired. Which would explain why she was in the building.” I sighed. “My days as the charismatic Casanova are over. I’ll forever be a one-chick wonder like this loser.” I hitched my thumb in Dean’s direction.

“What the hell? I’m supposed to be your best friend, dickhead. And don’t talk about Julie like that, or I’ll have to introduce you to the carpet again.” Dean huffed.

“So, what now?” Falcone asked a valid question. What was I going to do? She would, as my mate, be immune to my powers.

I scratched my head and looked around the table, then asked, “How do you woo a woman?”

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