I spun on my heels, striding away as tears welled in my eyes. Conal and Lucas wrapped their arms around my waist as we talked back towards where the portal had been earlier.
“I'm proud of you, Charlotte,” Lucas reassured me with a gentle kiss on my forehead. “That was very courageous.”
Conal smiled. “Lucas is right, Sugar. You gave them something to think about.” He kissed my cheek, his black eyes twinkling with delight. “But I would have happily decked Reynolds for you.”
“What's the deal with that Marrok guy?” I questioned curiously.
“He's a bastard,” Conal responded bluntly. “He's always been a troublemaker.”
“How'd he get to be a pack elder?”
Conal grimaced. “He's smart and he's tough and if he wasn't such a bastard, he'd be useful to have around.” Seeing my startled look, he continued. “Marrok has been on the council for years, even before my father became Alpha. He's got his eye on the prize.”
“The prize?” I repeated blankly.
Conal shrugged. “Don't worry about it, Sugar. It's pack business.”
Ben squeezed my shoulder gently, capturing my attention. “Two thousand younglings?” Concern was etched in his usually passive face. “That's an unbelievable army for the Consiliului to amass.”
“I heard Odin talking about it in one of my visions. They have a group of vampires constantly creating new ones.”
“Younglings are unstable, difficult to control,” Lucas added grimly. “They suffer a bloodlust which is overpowering.”
I straightened my shoulders, tensing myself to deal with the day ahead, and pushing the thought of a hot shower to the back of my mind. “While I'm not happy with the vampire development, we've got other problems to deal with. For now, we've got to get these people moving.” I pulled the Hjördis from my pocket and sighed. “Let's get on with it.”
Phelan was the last to be marked, having remained behind as I'd worked my way through the dozens of people needing the wing. Our efforts were prolonged as more people arrived, seeking refuge. Word of mouth was spreading about our claim of safety and groups of people had arrived in the past days, requesting sanctuary.
Reynolds and his group, along with the other men who'd joined his mini uprising had, surprisingly, agreed to having the mark. I wasn't sure why, and Reynolds had been remarkably sullen when I'd met him again, but at least he'd been silently sullen. I'd take what I could get at this stage.
The sun was setting on the seventh day when I completed the mark on Phelan's shoulder. It had been risky to remain in one place for so long, knowing Archangelo could be placed into a potion-induced sleep at any moment, but there'd been little choice with so many people needing help.
Phelan shrugged on his shirt, doing up the buttons as I slumped in an exhausted heap on the ground. All around us the grass and vegetation had been trampled as dozens of people portalled to Zaen.
Lucas, Epi and the Tines had already gone through – they'd been needed to organize the massive task of housing, food and supplies for the nearly three hundred people under our care. Lucas and I had barely seen one another since I'd portalled back seven days ago – he'd been on one of the first trips out. We'd been separated for days and I missed him. It seemed since we'd reunited, circumstances kept us constantly apart.
Nick and Rafe were waiting patiently, remaining after the last group went through. Nick announced they were here to keep me company, but I knew it was extra protection. Everyone was edgy, knowing Archangelo could send demons at any given minute.
“Ready to go, Lott?” Phelan queried with a warm smile. He rubbed his hand across his shoulder, grimacing a little. “You look like you could do with a stiff drink, and after that little adventure, so could I.”
I got to my feet slowly. Every muscle was aching after seven days of constant work with the Hjördis. Having spent hour after hour bent over people's shoulders, my shoulders and neck throbbed and my hand was cramping.
“I'm not heading through yet,” I answered, glancing away evasively.
Nick's head rose sharply and he narrowed his eyes. “What the hell are you talking about?”
“You need time to get settled. At most we've got twenty four hours till Archangelo locates me again. It's better for everyone if I'm not there, it buys another week of peace to get settled.”
“Lucas is going to be seriously pissed,” Phelan stated uncertainly. “He got me to promise I'd bring you with us on this last trip.”
I smiled, aware that Lucas knew me too well. He'd clearly guessed in advance that I would think of this, make this decision. “Tell him I'll be there in a couple of days. I swear.”
“Lott, this is crazy – sooner or later the Council are going to know about Zaen. Another week won't make much difference,” Rafe argued.
I shook my head, determined to follow through with the decision. “Another week makes a lot of difference. We still don't know how to kill the demons. Another week might give us the answer, before we have to face them.”
“Charlotte, I'm not letting you stay,” Nick growled, hands resting on his hips.
“You don't have a choice. I've made up my mind,” I announced, glaring at him.
“I'll pick you up and carry your ass through the portal,” he retorted.
“That'll be difficult,” I said lightly. “I'm the one who has to create the portal.”
“Won't stop me from picking up your ass as soon as it opens,” he snapped.
“I'm not going, Nick,” I responded quietly. “I have to do what's best for the group. You have to admit, the best thing for everyone is to buy them that extra week, give them time to settle in and get organized. I'm not being unreasonable, it's the sensible option.”
I knew he couldn't find a reasonable way of disagreeing. “All right,” he finally announced grudgingly. “But you better promise me you'll stay safe. Marianne and Rowena, shit, all the women will kill me if anything happens to you and I let you stay behind.”
“You're not letting me stay behind,” I responded, annoyed with his domineering tactics. “I'm choosing to stay.” I knelt and created a pentagram, marking sigils which had become second nature in the past week. The portal opened and I stepped back, feeling indescribably lonely. But it was the right thing to do. “See you on the other side.”
“You get through that portal the minute Archangelo comes out of the sleep,” Nick ordered firmly. With one last, frustrated look, he stepped through the portal.
Phelan hugged me warmly. “See you soon, Lott.” He too, stepped through the portal and I was left with Rafe.
“He worries about you, you know,” Rafe said quietly.
“Who? Nick?” I was surprised by his suggestion that Nick actually thought about me, let alone worried about me. We'd had a rocky relationship from the beginning and seemed remarkably good at getting on each other's nerves.
Rafe grinned. “Yeah, Nick. He's got that whole gruff exterior going on, but he cares about you, Lott. He's worried about you being on your own.”
“I'll be fine,” I responded quietly and stepped forward to offer him a hug. He wrapped his long arms around me and squeezed me tightly for a second, before stepping through the portal.
For a couple of minutes I stood and watched as the portal flickered and closed. I was emotionally and physically worn out. I longed to recreate the connection, join Lucas in Zaen – I missed him so much, but common sense told me I'd made the right decision.
I scrubbed away the pentagram, locking it off before I created a new one. Envisaging where I wanted to go, the spirits provided the sigils and I waited as the portal opened, shimmering with a golden glow.
Dusk was falling in Puckhaber when I arrived, taking a moment to gaze at Lucas's house in the semi-darkness. Even in the fading light, the damage done by the Consiliului was apparent. Windows smashed, glass lying everywhere and the front door was ripped from its hinges. I trudged slowly across the patio and entered the foyer, stepping cautiously into the darkened living r
oom. Flicking the light switch, I blinked rapidly when the room was abruptly bathed in bright light.
The house was in ruins, furniture overturned, glass showered everywhere. The piano was on its side, the lid torn away. Memories of Lucas and the others playing seemed like they'd happened an eternity ago. I walked slowly through the room, sad to discover the house – my home for so many months - had been trashed so badly. I wandered into the kitchen, my stomach rumbling. The refrigerator was operational, but the food had perished over the past few months. The freezer was more rewarding, Rowena had purchased frozen meals when I was living here and they were still stacked in neat rows. I chose one at random, popping it into the microwave which had escaped destruction.
While the food defrosted, I headed upstairs to the room which had once been mine. I peeked into each room I passed, finding each one ransacked. Rowena would be appalled to see the house desecrated by the Consiliului, when she'd always kept it so picture perfect.
The bed was overturned and Lucas's belongings were strewn everywhere. I sorted through the rucksack I carried, finding fresh underwear and clothes then headed down the hall for a lengthy hot shower. It had been weeks since I'd enjoyed this kind of luxury and I relished the opportunity to stand under steaming hot water with no time limit.
Heading back downstairs, I heated the now-defrosted meal and dropped it onto the table, tipping a chair upright to sit and eat. There was damage surrounding me, the remnants of life before I'd discovered my responsibilities as Nememiah's Child. It seemed like a million years ago and I wondered if life would ever revert back to normality. Of course, I mused, had it ever truly been average?
Would I live through this? Nememiah's prophecy continued to haunt me. Archangelo and I couldn't both survive – one would die before this ended. I hadn't spoken to anyone about Nememiah's prediction. With a pensive sigh I threw the empty meal container into the sink and went upstairs, intent on getting some much-needed sleep.
Shunting the mattress, I finally got it to lay flat on the carpet and located a blanket to throw over myself. It only took minutes to collapse into a deep and exhausted sleep.
I was standing in the marble room at Sfantu Drâghici. There were no vampires in attendance, only Alberich Bran and Archangelo stood together and Archangelo was clearly angry. His green eyes flashed as he gesticulated at the older man. Bran wore the same grey cloak but the hood was drawn back, allowing me to see his face clearly.
“I want the girl! She's destined to be mine! It was written in our futures, we were to marry and create a race of angel children!”
“Calm yourself, Archangelo.” The older man's voice was a deep baritone, his pitch sharply moderated. “The Drâghici need the girl dead. We must complete this task. Without the girl, the supernatural creatures will have no leader. This has gone on for far too long, she has escaped every time.”
“That's not my fault!” There was an obvious whine to Archangelo's voice, like a child who was being denied what he wanted. “I've done everything asked of me!”
“Without the girl, we will have everything we've ever wanted! Riches, and the supernatural at our feet. The control of the demons is ours and ours alone. The Consiliului have only the ability to create younglings. Ours is the true power in this union.”
“The girl should be mine. She's my destiny! I want her!” Archangelo repeated. “The Drâghici are just a bunch of old vampires, who've been around too long.”
The older man sighed, clasping his hands together as if in prayer. “Silence, Archangelo,” he warned in a low voice. “Those are dangerous words in this place. Odin and his Kiss control what we do - for now. We need their assistance, their ruthless tactics, to round up and control the supernaturals. They have the numbers to bring them to heel. But, when the time is right, we will take control. For now, however, we must allow Odin to believe they have complete power and that we are merely pawns in a game they run.” Bran paused, choosing his next words carefully. “But the girl must die, Archangelo. She is too powerful, as you've see in your visions. She is becoming the natural leader of the very creatures we wish to control. This has gone on for far too long.”
“I want her. Her scent, the perfume of her is an addiction I will not give up! I must have her.”
“You cannot have her. It is an impossibility. But I promise you, I will find you another. Perhaps someone who bears a resemblance to her,” Bran promised.
“I don't want another! I want her, you old fool!” Archangelo yelled. “She should be mine!”
Waking with a jolt, I launched up onto my elbows, my mind swimming with the vision. My hair was damp and stuck to my neck, skin drenched in perspiration. Taking a couple of steadying breaths, I slumped back against the mattress, pulling the blanked up over my chest. Visions like this were commonplace, they happened so regularly that I expected them every time I went to sleep. But the thought of Archangelo's… obsession… that was seriously creepy.
Thinking carefully over the vision, it was discomforting to realize Archangelo and Bran weren't aligned with the Drâghici as we'd believed. From the information I'd overheard, they considered Odin and his cronies as a tool at their disposal, doing the groundwork before they took over as leaders of the supernatural. It was a worrying development in an already unsettling state of affairs. I wished it was possible to bring the others up to speed with this latest development but with no cell phone reception, they would remain in the dark until I returned to Zaen.
The rapid pace of my heartbeat slowly decreased and I curled up under the blanket, wanting to go back to sleep for a while. The visions disrupted my rest, leaving me relentlessly tired and I wondered if I could get another couple of hours of uninterrupted sleep. With little to do whilst waiting for Archangelo's next induced sleep, I might as well make the most of the opportunity to rest and recharge my batteries.
Pushing the thought of Archangelo firmly from my mind, I concentrated on something far more exhilarating – my relationship with Lucas. I hoped he wasn't too angry with my decision to stay away from Zaen, but even if he was, making up would be fun. Since we'd overcome our issues and returned to one another, we'd barely had any time together, but the kisses we'd shared were wonderful. Slipping into a delightful daydream, I wondered when we would make love for the first time. I was certain it would be soon, Lucas was making it abundantly clear that he wanted me as badly as I wanted him and the look in his eyes left no doubt about his intentions, his blue eyes filled with obvious lust. The daydream chased the last thoughts of Bran and Archangelo from my mind and I drifted back into a settled sleep.
When I woke for a second time, it was to the sound of my own screams, the pulsating throb in my head beyond description. It was beyond pain, the voices of hundreds of souls, shrieking at me in dire warning…
Chapter 23: Attack
Scrambling to my feet, I was grateful I hadn't bothered to undress last night. Snatching up the belt of weapons, I squinted against the sunshine filtering into the room. Waking so abruptly from a deep sleep, I was disorientated, fumbling to hook the belt at my waist and hastily dragging on my boots. It was a struggle to get a single coherent thought through the cacophony of voices in my head.
A noise downstairs had me lifting my head in dread. It might already be too late. Cursing inwardly, I tightened the bootlaces and crept out of the bedroom, listening for sounds from downstairs. Archangelo and Bran were growing progressively more expeditious in sending demons. They seemed to be concentrating on sending demons when I was alone, saving the younglings for attacking the groups. Whilst Archangelo's angelic abilities had reached their upper limit, the curious mix of demon blood meant he was improving the speed with which he located me. Worse, he seemed to be gaining a tolerance for the potion Bran plied him with, falling into a light doze and waking swiftly. My window of opportunity to escape was reducing with every passing day.
Moving down the hallway, I took the stairs slowly, cautiously laying weight on them to keep noise to a minimum. I slunk across the lan
ding, before creeping down the next stairway. My skin was clammy, my heart in my throat as I slowly made my way, quelling the urge to sprint out of the house.
Reaching the last step, an unearthly howl erupted and a demon rushed straight at me. It was seven feet long, scorpion-like, with eight pincers, four down each side of its body and an elongated tail which tapered to a razor sharp barb. I stumbled backwards, tripping on debris and fell heavily to the floor. Before I had a chance to recover, the demon was standing over me, its jaws snapping as I struggled to hold it back. With my left hand clutching its throat, I groped for the Katchet, catching it in my fingertips and settling it into my hand to stab at the creature. I managed a couple of good blows, but not enough to create any damage. Behind the demon, I detected a scrabbling sound, as though a giant centipede was running over the wooden floor. Twisting to see what made the sound, I knew I was in a whole stack of trouble. I regretted not taking the time to mark my skin before coming downstairs, I was completely unprepared and had no additional abilities available.
The demon towering over me swung its elongated tail, slashing down below my left shoulder with the barbed tip. The spike pierced deeply into the soft skin beneath my collarbone and I screamed, my eyesight blurring as pain seared in the muscle. Its wide jaws inched increasingly closer to my face and saliva trickled down my neck, burning my skin. I slashed clumsily with the Katchet, but it was having little effect.
Growling and snarling, the demon inched closer, its putrid breath hot on my skin. I dropped the Katchet and thrust against its neck, desperately trying to keep it away. In the background, the second demon scuffled noisily across the floor. Although outside my field of vision, terror had me believing it was nearby and ready to join the attack.
A sudden burst of gunfire exploded and the demon retreated abruptly, hissing its fury. I scuttled backwards, conscious of searing pain in my chest. I heard the shotgun being reloaded before another two shots were fired and the demon retreated further into the kitchen.
Knowledge Hurts Page 18