I couldn't choose between Conal and Lucas and didn't want to live without either one of them in my life. I was terrified of the possibility that if I chose one over the other, I would lose the one I rejected, that he would disappear and never be seen again. The thought was intolerable. I lay back on the tomb, morosely staring up at the stars glimmering in the moonlit sky above. It was a clear night, the moon creating ambient light over the church yard and highlighting the gravestones which stood tall and silent over their dead charges.
The sensible thing, would be to go inside and speak to Conal and Lucas - that would be the adult thing to do. Right at the moment, however, I didn't much feel like being an adult. In fact, I wanted to kick my feet like a child and throw a temper tantrum. Fatigue would eventually force me inside though, I could hardly sleep on top of someone's grave - it was bad enough that I was lying on it. I hauled myself into a sitting position and stared in bewilderment at the sight before me.
A door had materialized next to the tomb. A white wooden door, which, to all intents and purposes, appeared to be supporting itself - standing with no surrounding frames or features. Slipping the Katchet into my back pocket, I approached it curiously, wondering if sheer exhaustion was causing me to hallucinate.
Touching the door tentatively, I discovered it wasn't an illusion and the wood was cool and smooth beneath my fingertips. I turned the handle and opened the door, taking a cautious step inside.
It was apparent this was Epi's doing when I found myself inside a small bedroom. It was compact, with walls painted ivory and dark wooden floors. There was a bed against the centre of one wall, with a mahogany headboard and matching drawers. The bed had an elaborately embroidered quilt in shades of brown and gold, with several comfortable-looking pillows propped against the headboard. The room was pleasantly cool after the sultry heat outside and I brushed my fingers across the quilt. Epi had apparently decided I wasn't returning inside any time soon, so he'd created this little oasis in the churchyard. With no further deliberation, I stripped down to my bra and panties and slipped beneath the covers, relishing the clean cotton sheets against my overheated skin.
I expected to have trouble sleeping, but almost as soon as my head hit the pillows I dropped into a deep sleep. Despite the emotional turmoil, my sleep was free from nightmares and I slept soundly throughout the night.
I was refreshed when I woke and the nausea and overwhelming exhaustion had dissipated to a more tolerable level. It was a novelty to find soft light filling the room, despite the lack of windows and I marveled at Epi's abilities. A glance at my watch confirmed it was a little after ten in the morning and birds twittered and called to one another outside.
Rolling over onto my back, I stretched and luxuriated in the comfortable bed. Epi definitely needed a hug. I contemplated getting up, or if I should wallow for a little while longer. My belly made the decision, rumbling ominously as a reminder that it was well past breakfast.
My thought processes were less snarly this morning and I knew what my decision had to be. It seemed obvious in the clear light of a new day, there was only one decision I could make. The only way forward was to ensure both men remained in my life and only one option would work. With a smile, I pulled the covers back and slipped out of bed, dressing quickly.
I traipsed across the rough ground and pushed open the door, stepping into the cool interior of the church. The mouth-watering aroma of pancakes assaulted my senses and I scouted the room, identifying the source.
The majority of the beds had disappeared, leaving only the ones where Marianne and Gwynn still lay. Epi's bookshelves were back in position around the walls and a long scarred table sat in the centre of the room with my friends gathered around it.
“Morning, everyone,” I called out. I spied Nonny, serving pancakes to Rafe from a large platter. I snatched one, ripping it apart and popping a piece into my mouth. “Nonny, I think I love you.”
Lucas was at the far end of the table and uneasiness grew when I noticed Conal was sitting beside him. I walked around the crowded table to them. “Can I speak to both of you, please? In the kitchen?” Without waiting for a response, I turned and strode through to the kitchen, devouring the pancake as I walked.
Conal appeared first, then Lucas and they stood silently, waiting for me to speak. I took my time, pouring coffee into a mug, adding sugar and cream. Stirring it briskly, I sipped the hot liquid before I turned to face them.
“Okay,” I began with a deep sigh. “I've really made a mess of things with the two of you.”
They remained silent, watching warily.
I didn't know where the unexpected burst of courage was coming from, but I intended to exploit it while I could. “I can't stop the way I feel. I love both of you, and that complicates things.”
“You think?” Conal snorted. “You're doing my head in, Sugar. I thought you were going back to Lucas, that's what you told me you planned to do.”
“And you made it clear how much that was going to piss you off when I didn't come back to the apartment the other night.”
He crossed his arms over his broad chest, his eyes narrowing. “I'll deal with it.”
I shook my head, sipping the coffee. “I don't want you to deal with it.” I turned to Lucas. “I'm not even sure you want me back.”
“I love you, Charlotte, nothing has changed the way I feel,” he responded quietly.
“Thank you,” I breathed softly. “I love you, too.” The contrast between their reactions was startling. While Lucas's eyes warmed, Conal's grew icy and I gazed up at him until he met my eyes, anger simmering in his. “I love you, Conal. I love both of you and I've realized how impossible this is. I can't have both of you. So, for better or worse, I've made a decision.”
“What's that?” Conal questioned. He watched me intently, his black eyes somber.
“I can't be with either of you,” I announced decisively.
Both men stared in disbelief and I continued hastily, trying to explain. “Lucas, you said yourself, I'm not the same girl you knew in Puckhaber.”
“That's true, Lucas conceded.”But it doesn't make any difference to how I feel."
“Conal, we've spent the past five months together and even you admit I'm not the girl you first knew.” I tapped my fingers nervously against the coffee mug. “I guess I'm a work in progress and we have no way of knowing if either of you will like the finished product. I don't know what's going to happen in the future.” I smiled cynically, rolling my eyes. “Chances are, I'll be dead in the future, if the Consiliului get their own way. All I know for certain is that I'm Nememiah's Child and I have a responsibility to follow this through. It makes more sense to avoid being in a relationship, until I see if I survive this thing with the Drâghici.”
Lucas took a step forward, but I held out my hand.
“I mean it. When all's said and done, I'm twenty one years old and the first time I've gotten involved with a man… two men, I've screwed it up. Right now, I need you both in my life and the only way that will work is for us to be friends. I don't want you to be jealous of one another and I'm not planning on giving you anything to be envious about. But what I'm facing - I'll need all the help I can get. If you both decide to blow me off, I'll understand and if you decide to seek a new relationship with someone else, well, I'll just have to accept it. It's exactly what I'd deserve.” I stopped abruptly, the courage quickly ebbing away as I studied their faces anxiously. “But I'd appreciate it, if you were to support me through this.”
I didn't have any idea how they would react. Was I asking too much? It would be understandable if they both walked away and I never saw them again.
Their eyes met for a long moment, before Lucas spoke. “I will support you, Charlotte. I don't like your decision, but I love you. I'll help in any way I can.”
Conal rubbed his fingers through his hair, and huffed out a frustrated breath. “You know I'll support you, Sugar. The Tremaines' stand behind you. We'll be there, every step of the
way.”
The breath I'd been holding whooshed quietly past my lips as I smiled at them. “Thank you.” Clutching my coffee mug, I stepped past them both. “If you'll excuse me, there are pancakes out there with my name on them.”
I slipped out through the open doorway, leaving the two men standing dumbstruck behind me.
Chapter 8: Transfusion
I snatched another pancake from the stack Nonny was distributing and walked over to Epi, who stood with Ben and Jerome. I leaned over to kiss Epi on the top of his bald forehead, delighted when a flush spread across his wrinkled cheeks. “Thanks, Epi.”
“I assume you've sorted out your complicated love life?” Epi questioned, his voice as dry as the grass outside.
“Yeah, I have,” I agreed quietly. “I'm staying single.”
Epi narrowed his eyes. “Is that what you really want, child?”
I shrugged, the gesture non-committal. “It's the choice I have to make. I screwed this up and it's the best decision out of a host of bad ones. Besides, I'm Nememiah's Child. I need to concentrate on that for now.”
“If that's what you think best, child. Can we get back to dealing with more serious concerns now?”
“Sure,” I responded easily, popping another small piece of pancake into my mouth. “Can I finish breakfast first?”
“You can, as soon as you inform me of your nightmares,” Epi retorted.
“Not a thing. Slept soundly all night.”
Epi looked perturbed. “That's disappointing. I was hoping for some useful information.”
I rolled my eyes at his nonchalance. “Geez, Epi. How about 'that's wonderful, Charlotte! Great to hear you had another good night's sleep for a change.'?”
Ben eyed me with barely concealed amusement. “I see what you mean, Epimetheus.”
I glanced from one man to the other, eyes narrowed suspiciously. “What now?”
“I was telling Ben that as you have accepted your role as Nememiah's Child, you have grown very determined - and remarkably cheeky - for someone so young.”
“You wouldn't have it any other way, old man.” I glanced at Marianne and Gwynn, who still lay in the beds, listless and pale. “Is everyone improving?”
“They're doing much better with the help of your sigils,” Jerome said. “You'll put me out of a job.”
“Marianne and Gwynn will be fine. We're recuperating slowly,” Ben agreed. “The blood is aiding our recovery, but we'll need to hunt before we'll regain anything near full strength.”
“Cow blood's not doing it for you, huh?”
“It's helping to regenerate us, but not as fast as fresh blood would,” Lucas said, appearing at my side. He smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes. “The strength we gain from blood directly relates to the battled required to obtain it. Bear and mountain lions would heal us faster than bovine.”
“So everyone will get better, right?”
There was a long pause and Lucas and Ben exchanged a cautious look. “We're not entirely certain what will happen,” Ben admitted, glancing at the other vampires seated around the table.
“We have lost most of our abilities, Charlotte. For those of us with enhanced talents; telepathy, thought reading, empathy… they've been wiped out as though they never existed,” Lucas added. “There's no guarantee they will return.”
“And to discover we could be affected by the very things we'd disregarded as myth,” Ben continued. “Lucas and I have spoken with Jerome and Epimetheus regarding the possible repercussions, whether we will remain susceptible to silver and holy water…” He broke off, a haunted shadow in his brown eyes. It took him a few seconds to regain his composure, then he shrugged. “We don't know whether we'll recover completely.”
“I'm so sorry,” I murmured. “If I'd gotten there sooner…”
“You couldn't do that, Charlotte and we understand why,” Lucas said. “For now, we'll need to continue regaining our strength and hope for the best possible outcome.”
“And in the meantime,” Striker announced, draping an arm around my shoulder, “we need to forget our sorrows and celebrate your birthday.” He handed me a cupcake with a candle buried in the icing and kissed my cheek affectionately. “Happy Birthday, Lott.”
“Thanks, Striker. Did you bake it yourself?”
He snorted. “Yeah, right.”
Rowena hugged me affectionately and I was thrilled to see the improvement in her health. “I'm sorry we don't have a gift for you.”
“Are you kidding? Having you here is the best birthday present I could receive.”
Striker slumped back down into his chair and sipped from the bottle he was holding, shuddering his aversion. “No offence, Lott, but cow blood tastes awful.”
“You should be grateful,” I announced indignantly. “Do you know how many cows we had to transfuse to get that blood? Dozens!”
Lucas choked on the blood he'd been in the midst of swallowing. A smile lifted the edge of his lips. “Transfused?”
“Yeah, I've still got the hoof mark on my ass to prove it,” Phelan chuckled. “Lottie wouldn't let us take the easy route and slaughter a couple of cows. We had to do it the hard way.”
There was an astounded silence, before everyone burst into laughter simultaneously.
“Don't look at me like that!” I protested. “I can't help it! Cows are kind of sweet. I didn't want to kill them.”
“Let me get this straight,” Ripley said slowly. “You did a transfusion. On a cow?” His eyes twinkled with unconcealed mirth.
“Yep, that's our Charlotte,” Conal agreed, leaning on the back of Phelan's chair. “In fact, I think we did thirty five transfusions, on some thirty five separate cows. Right now, some poor sap's trying to figure out why his whole herd is anemic.”
“Not to mention the other forty odd cows we hit yesterday,” Nick smirked.
Raucous laughter accompanied this statement and I laughed with them. My desire to keep the cows alive had caused nothing but trouble a few nights ago when I'd realized we needed a blood supply for the Tines.
Ben, Epi and Jerome joined us around the table and William watched me in amusement. “Charlotte, you are unbelievable. You would take on that thing Archangelo produced and kill it, but you hesitate to kill a cow?”
“There's a difference,” I pointed out. “The cow wasn't trying to kill me. The demon was.”
The atmosphere rapidly shifted, smiles and laughter replaced by a deathly silence.
“In over nine hundred years, I've never seen a demon,” Ben murmured. “I had thought they were a legend.”
“They have always existed in the Otherworld,” Epi responded briskly. “They were eradicated from Earth by the original Nememiah's Children before your birth. But now, if Archangelo is capable of bringing them to our world, it's a situation fraught with peril.”
“If Charlotte's an angel, couldn't she learn the same ability?” Ripley asked. “Couldn't she summon demons and have them attack the Drâghici?”
“Charlotte is untainted by demon blood. The very reason Archangelo can summon demons must be attributed to his curious mixture of angel and demon blood,” Epi explained. “Charlotte's power lies in her ability to harness and direct the power of the spirits. I assume you saw her rather satisfactory use of spirit energy to create orbs during your recovery in Sfantu Drâghici?”
“Very impressive,” Holden agreed, throwing an encouraging smile in my direction. “How are they created?”
"Charlotte calls the spirits to her aid, both individually and in groups. In recent weeks we've worked on using the kinetic power of the spirits as a weapon. Those orbs she produces are the spirits' energy, which she can form into a ball of thermodynamic power.
“I imagine that's what happened in Puckhaber Falls,” Lucas suggested.
“From what Charlotte explained, I believe that was a thermodynamic wave, rather than an orb,” Epi corrected. “A complete fluke on her part. I was amazed she managed to produce it at all, given her lack of knowled
ge at the time.”
“I owe you guys an apology for that,” I stated, clasping my fingers together.
“I believe it is I who owes you the apology, Charlotte,” Holden responded. “You thought I was attacking you and I'm so very sorry for that.”
“Holden thought I was attacking you,” William added. “He didn't realize we were trying to increase your ability to protect yourself.”
There'd been more than enough apologies in the past twenty four hours and I diverted the conversation. “So Epi - you think there's someone else involved. Got any ideas who?”
Epi shook his head, brushing away imaginary crumbs from his tunic. “Vampires do not have the magical skills, so it's not a member of the Drâghici Kiss. It will be a warlock, witch or wizard. As to whom, I cannot be certain. We must trust you will receive information from the spirits or your nightmares.”
“The spirits are a bust,” I reported. “I spoke to them last night.”
“Well, a nightmare then,” Epi insisted. “Hopefully you will have one soon.”
Conal rolled his eyes at Epi's complete disregard of the emotional toll of the nightmares and we shared a smile.
Epi was scrutinizing my arm when I turned back. The injury continued to cause trouble, refusing to knit together and the massive bruise on my forearm was no better. “Charlotte, you must mark further healing sigils,” he ordered. “I will prepare a potion, attempt to counteract the lack of blood running in your veins.”
Conal settled in a chair, scanning the wounds. “You still look pale, Sugar.”
Jerome caught Epi's attention. “I've prescribed iron supplements in the past. It helped and has a similar effect on her blood as it would on human blood.” He rolled his eyes. “Seems bizarre to suggest you aren't human.”
“Yes, yes, that would help. However I believe in this case, she has lost more than iron supplements can overcome. Jerome, I'm sure you would like to see my preparation, it will be of interest to you, I believe…” Jerome and Epi disappeared into a room behind the altar, with Epi still waxing lyrical about his potion. Reaching into my pocket to retrieve the Hjördis, I remembered I was still carrying the Katchet.
Knowledge Hurts Page 7