Midnight Jewels

himself. He knew that as he sat quietly freeing his mind of all extraneous thoughts. Slowly he focused on the point of light within himself and his mind cleared.
    He could no longer doubt Mercy. She knew what she was saying. He had seen the knowledge in her eyes.
    She loved him.
    Croft took that knowledge into himself, learning it completely, turning it over in his mind, examining it the way he would examine a flower or a sunset or the sea at dawn. He wanted to know what it meant to be loved by Mercy. He wanted to know it in every fiber of his being.
    He let the knowledge that Mercy loved him flow through him until it filled him, satisfied him and gave him peace of mind.
    It was a different kind of peace than the sort he achieved through meditation and the strengthening movements of his physical training, but it was related to that deep calm in some ways. It was more emotionally satisfying, more filling. In some sense it was a more complete kind of peace. It encompassed the other and surpassed it.
    Croft realized that he had never known a complete love before in his life. Perhaps that was why he hadn't recognized it or had tried to deny it when he felt it growing between himself and Mercy. He had thought he understood love on an intellectual basis, thought he knew its demands and requirements, but he hadn't really comprehended its power.
    But he accepted the truth now. He had no choice.
    He was in love with Mercy. As much in love with her as she was with him. It was a combination of passion, friendship, respect, even the exciting, stimulating friction of disagreements and differing interpretations of important concepts.
    A complete Circle.
    Croft studied the new Circle as it came together in his mind, watched as it coalesced around the point of light that was his focus. It was perfect. Even the parts of it that couldn't be completely understood were part of that perfection. There was no such thing as total knowledge. Some mysteries always remained and he sensed that between a man and a woman arose unknown regions were as important as the portions that could be comprehended. He accepted them; accepted the whole. Mercy belonged to him and he belonged to her.
    Satisfied at last, Croft went on to another aspect of his meditation. It was time to summon the clearheaded logic and stamina he would need during me next few hours.
    Time passed. But when Mercy cautiously opened the door of the room a half hour later, Croft was ready. He turned his head to see her standing hesitantly in the doorway, a white paper sack in her hand.
    "I brought you something to eat. And a cup of tea. It's made with a tea bag but I made them boil the water first. Are you finished with your meditating?" She pulled two cups out of her sack and handed one to him while she uncapped the other for herself.
    "I'm finished." He got to his feet, feeling serene and yet fully alert. All his senses were awake and aware but they were all under his control. It was the way he always felt before he explored the boundaries of violence and learned anew the thrill of existence.
    It was the way he always felt when he made love to Mercy, except that there were times with her when she took him even farther. With her he could actually lose control and still know that he was safe.
    Croft uncapped the cup of tea and took a sip. "I love you, Mercy," he said calmly.
    Mercy nearly choked on her coffee. "What?" she sputtered, gasping for breath. Her eyes watered with the effort.
    Croft slapped her lightly between her shoulders, ignoring her frantic question. "I have to go now. I'll eat the sandwich on the way. I'll be back around dawn tomorrow. Good-bye, Mercy."
    He brushed her mouth lightly with his own and then he walked out the door without looking back.

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Chapter EIGHTEEN

    He loved her.
    As usual, Mercy was torn between wanting to shake Croft and a passionate longing to throw her arms around him. He had managed to frustrate both possibilities by walking out on her directly after making his grand announcement.
    It was typical of Croft to do things this way, Mercy fumed as she stalked up and down the small motel room. No passionate proclamation of undying love over a candlelit dinner, no surprise engagement ring, no intense discussion of his emotions and feelings. Just a factual statement before he walked out the door to risk his neck.
    It must have happened during his meditation session, Mercy decided.
    He had clearly worked something out in that convoluted mind of his,