The Knowledge of Love (The Nememiah Chronicles Book 4)

by D. S. Williams

  “Are you…” I took a step closer then stopped uncertainly. “Are you okay?”

  “Yeah, I'm good. Recovering well.” He indicated a chair beside the bed. “Come and sit down.”

  Sheer willpower forced my feet to operate and I sank onto the chair, perching on the edge. Conal took a minute to study my face, his black eyes expressionless. “You look like hell, Charlotte,” he finally remarked.

  “I feel like hell,” I admitted, rubbing my hands together in apprehension. “I'm so sorry, Conal.”

  “For what?” Conal raised an eyebrow, looking genuinely mystified.

  “For putting you in danger. For going after Archangelo.” Tears brimmed against my eyelashes, threatening to fall. “For getting you so badly hurt and getting Lucas… and getting Lucas…” I couldn't finish the sentence and lowered my gaze.

  “C'mere,” Conal demanded, holding his arms out. He snagged one of my hands and coaxed me towards him. I allowed him to do so, tears spilling uncontrollably as he drew me onto the bed, taking me into his arms.

  I cried against his shoulder, unable to form a single word, let alone a cohesive sentence. Conal held me, rubbing his hands soothingly across my back. When the sobbing eased, he spoke. “Nobody blames you, Sugar. What happened was all that bastard Archangelo's fault.”

  “I shouldn't have gone after him.”

  “You did what you thought was right,” Conal responded calmly. “We were in the middle of a battle. I think Archangelo had it all planned, before the fight even began. He's crazy, Sugar. Completely insane.”

  “All the more reason why I should have held back,” I admitted. “I should have stayed with you and Lucas.”

  “Charlotte, listen to me,” Conal ordered, his deep voice determined. “The choices we make during a battle have to made in a split-second. You made a choice, it could have gone either way. Blaming yourself isn't going to change a thing, won't fix anything. It's only going to eat you alive, if you keep feeling guilty like this.”

  “You're right. I know you're right. But you're lying here, injured and Lucas is… Lucas is…” Again I struggled to complete the sentence.

  Conal pressed a kiss to my forehead. “I wish it had been the other way round.”

  I raised my head to look at him, my forehead puckering into a frown. “What?”

  “I wish it had been me who'd died. Not the bloodsucker. It would have saved you this heartache if you still had Lucas by your side.”

  I stumbled from the bed swiftly and turned back to glare at him. “How would that have been better?” Anger was quick to rise to the surface, my emotions a veritable cauldron of bubbling passions.

  Conal frowned, rubbing his hand over his chin as he considered. “You loved him Charlotte. I'm just saying it would have been better for you if Lucas was alive.”

  “You think I would have felt better if you'd died?” I shrieked. “What sort of person do you think I am?”

  “Charlotte…” Conal's eyes widened as he comprehended the intensity of my rage.

  I stomped to the door, wrenching it open with enough force to make a sizeable dent in the drywall when the door knob hit it. “For your information I would have felt like crap whether Lucas died or whether it was you! I loved you both!”

  “But you chose him!” Conal exploded. He'd clearly reached the end of his tether and his black eyes filled with swift rage. “You can't blame me for thinking you'd have preferred it if I died! He was the one you chose to be with, Charlotte, not me! It didn't matter how much I loved you, you never loved me enough!”

  For a moment I was stunned by the savagery of his words. When I spoke my voice was lifeless. “It doesn't matter. Because now I've got nothing.”

  Ignoring Conal's shouts, I slipped from the room and ran down the corridor, taking the stairs two at a time in my haste to escape. I ran with my head lowered until I escaped the building and reached the grass courtyard. I stopped abruptly, taking a few deep breaths and surveying the vicinity without really seeing a thing. I wiped my face with my sleeve, awash in the agony of Conal's confession about his true feelings. I'd lost them both, one to death and one to bitterness.

  “Charlotte?” Acenith and Ripley hurried towards me, concern in their expressions. Acenith caught my hand and pulled me into a lengthy embrace. “Charlotte, is it true?” she whispered.

  I bit my lip, looking at Ripley with an unspoken question in my eyes.

  “Sorry, Charlotte. It's all you've thought about for the past hour. It was impossible to miss,” Ripley said.

  I nodded and shrugged. “It's true. I'm pregnant.” How many times would I say it before I actually believed it myself? The only thing I felt currently, was numb. Things were progressing far too swiftly to comprehend, to come to terms with the situation I found myself in.

  Acenith gripped my hands, squeezing them tenderly. “Oh, Charlotte! I honestly don't know what to say. I don't know whether to congratulate or commiserate.”

  I smiled, despite my current misery. “Neither do I.”

  Ripley caught me in a brief hug when Acenith released my hands. “We'll do anything we can to help,” he said kindly.

  “Would you like us to come home with you and we can talk about it?” Acenith offered.

  I shook my head forlornly. “I don't want to go home.” Although I continued to live in the cottage Lucas and I had shared, I barely spent any time there, avoiding it as much as possible. There were too many memories, too much sadness and I only went there when exhaustion was overwhelming and I needed to sleep.

  Ripley dropped his hand on my shoulder. “Let's go to Rowena and Ben's. No doubt Rowena knows by now; Ben has never kept a secret from her.”

  Acenith linked her arm through mine and smiled. “It will be okay, Charlotte. I promise you, you'll get through this.”

  Chapter 6: Terms

  A conference was held at Rowena and Ben's cottage that afternoon, which took place in fits and starts as the Tines either departed for training, or returned from it. The unexpected news of a pregnancy couldn't halt the usual days' routine, not without drawing Epi's attention and that was the one thing I most wanted to avoid. I couldn't imagine how he would react if he found out. No doubt about it, I needed time - lots of time before Epi discovered the news.

  As Ripley predicted, Rowena knew about the pickle I was in. She was on the doorstep of the cottage before we even reached the stoop, her eyes luminous with worry. Without a word she drew me into a bear hug as Ben watched on from the kitchen doorway. He handed me a mug when Rowena could finally be convinced to let me go. “Coffee,” he murmured. “You look like you're in need of it.”

  I sank onto the small couch, identical to the one in our cottage. Although there wasn't a great amount of homeliness in the room, Rowena had clipped some pink roses from the gardens and a bouquet sat on the coffee table, adding some color. Ripley said his goodbyes, heading back to the training field. Acenith settled on the couch at my side and Rowena perched on the arm, within touching distance. Ben stayed, explaining that with Epi under the assumption we were working on blood tests, it was prudent to make himself scarce. Epi would assume he'd be at the hospital if he wasn't training.

  “Charlotte, I think it would be a good idea to let the others know,” Rowena began quietly, holding up her hand when I opened my mouth to argue. “Hear me out, please. I know you've had very little time to come to terms with your situation, but you'll need as much support as you can get. Striker, Holden, the others, they'll all want to help. And I'm sure they'd be disappointed if they discovered we were keeping your pregnancy secret from them.”

  “From a Kiss point of view, we will have to tell Striker, even if we kept it from the others,” Ben added.

  “Why?” I sipped the coffee and managed to keep my expression from betraying how bitter it was. Vampires were not good at coffee-making, unsurprising considering they couldn't drink it. Ben was particularly terrible, but often attempted the task because he was a thoughtful guy and pandered to my caffeine
addiction.

  “We elected Striker as our new leader,” Acenith explained. “It is not a good situation for a Kiss to be without a leader. It often leads to being subjugated by a bigger and stronger group.”

  I stared at her blankly. “Who would do that?” The only vampires in Zaen were Thut and Harley's groups. Surely they wouldn't attempt to take over Lucas's group?

  “Not the groups that are already in Zaen,” Ben agreed mildly. “However, there's the possibility other Kiss may join us and might not be so amenable to a group without an elected leader.”

  “And get their asses kicked straight back out through the gates,” I announced, fairly bristling with indignation.

  Ben chuckled and Rowena and Acenith exchanged a smile. “Ah Charlotte, you truly are a breath of fresh air. As much as I love your defensiveness regarding us, I can assure you the possibility of a takeover was uppermost in our concerns and something we hope to avoid. Hence why we have named Striker as leader.”

  I tipped my head to one side, considering this announcement. “Why Striker?” He wasn't an obvious choice - I would have assumed Ben or Ripley would have been elected. They had been in the Kiss for the longest, part of the initial formation. Wouldn't one of them be the more obvious choice?

  “We needed someone strong, someone with excellent fighting capability,” Ben explained. “It seemed prudent at this juncture in our existence and Striker was the best man for the job.”

  “It is a good choice, my love.” Lucas murmured. “Striker is the best man in the Kiss's current circumstances.”

  A cold shiver rippled upwards through my spine. Seven days after Lucas's death, it was an ongoing struggle to hear his voice. Every time it came as a shock, increasing the hurt to unbearable levels.

  “I'm so terribly sorry, Charlotte. I have no desire to upset you.”

  Taking a deep breath, I sipped the bitter coffee and immediately regretted it. Forcing down a mouthful, I drew my attention back to the matter at hand. “Okay, I guess we should let the others know.” I looked at Rowena. “Will Gwynn be okay with this?” I didn't want to do anything to hurt her. We had developed a close relationship in recent months. Gwynn was grateful that we'd saved her from the Consiliului and our relationship had improved in leaps and bounds - but I knew how she felt about babies. Would she find it difficult to adjust, now I was pregnant? Thinking about it, I wondered if her reaction could possibly be worse than mine - I was still under the impression I was suffering a bizarre hallucination.

  “I think Gwynn will be utterly delighted,” Rowena announced. She brushed her hand across my hair. “We will all enjoy having a beautiful new baby to love and cherish. Gwynn loves children, she's relishing her work with the youngsters while their parents are busy with their tasks. I'm certain she'll adore your new baby.”

  “There are other things we should discuss, Charlotte. I'd intended on waiting until you'd had time to come to terms with Lucas's death, but given the circumstances, I think they should be discussed now,” Ben said. He perched on the edge of the coffee table. “I know you have a great deal on your mind, but you should know that Lucas left a will, detailing how his financial assets should be distributed.” Ben smiled warmly. “The house in Puckhaber Falls has been gifted to you, along with a substantial yearly allowance. I believe it will be enough to allow you to live quite comfortably.”

  I was gobsmacked and my gaze shifted from Ben, to Rowena, to Acenith and back again in disbelief. “I can't… I can't accept that,” I protested.

  “Of course you can,” Rowena said firmly, “it's what Lucas wanted.”

  “He wanted to make certain you were provided for, should his existence be ended,” Acenith added.

  A combination of shock and sadness set my limbs shaking and Acenith drew me into her arms, holding me close.

  “But it's your home!” I argued.

  “We have other places we can go, Charlotte.” Ben insisted quietly. “When this war with the Drâghici is over, we will move on. It's what we intended to do, if this situation hadn't eventuated. The house will provide security for you and your new baby, a home you can call your own.”

  I was crying again, for what seemed like the millionth time in the past seven days. It was all too much. Lucas's death, an unexpected pregnancy and now… I was being abandoned by my family. It was apparent from Ben's words that they would be moving on, leaving me alone.

  I hated the idea.

  “Charlotte, don't cry, this is what Lucas wanted.” Acenith tried to soothe me, but her words only made me cry harder.

  “I don't want the house. I wouldn't be happy there on my own.” I stood up, wrapping my arms around my chest and pacing, agitated by the idea of being abandoned.

  “You won't be alone, Charlotte. You will have your baby and your father is back in your life now,” Rowena said. She stood up and watched my anxious pacing.

  “I hardly know him!” I protested. “I know you! You're my family and you're going to leave me!”

  Rowena's expression was awash in sympathy. “Oh, sweetheart, that isn't our intention! You think we're abandoning you? Of course we're not!”

  “That's what you said!” I shouted, turning on her angrily. “Lucas left me the house and you'll leave me there! You'll all go off and make a new home somewhere and I'll be left alone, with a baby and nothing else! Don't you see? I need you!”

  Ben caught my arm and drew me into his, soothing me as I sobbed against his shoulder, completely bereft. “Charlotte, you're feeling emotional and stressed right now. It wasn't our intention to make you think we're abandoning you, far from it. But you know we can't stay in any one place for more than a decade or so, before people begin to get suspicious. We have to move from place to place, but you don't. Lucas wanted to ensure you had some security of your own. That's all. We would never leave you completely alone and I'm sorry if that's what you thought we're implying. But you will move on with your life, you'll find love again and you'll want somewhere to settle and call home. We would never abandon you, but you can't possibly want the transient lifestyle we're forced to endure.”

  “I won't,” I retorted angrily. “I loved Lucas and he's gone. I won't ever put myself in that position again.”

  Ben exchanged a cautious glance with Rowena before he spoke again. “You're very young, Charlotte and Lucas died only a week ago. Give yourself some time and you'll learn to open your heart to someone…”

  “No! I won't!” I shrieked angrily. “Everyone I love dies! My mom, my siblings and now Lucas. I'll never put myself in that position again!”

  There was a stunned silence in the room, during which the front door opened and Striker, Marianne and Holden appeared.

  Striker stopped in the doorway, quietly assessing Ben's arms wrapped around my waist, and the strain in Rowena and Acenith's faces. “What'd I miss?” he questioned calmly. Dressed in the camouflage pants and black t-shirt which had become standard training uniform, his broad shoulders seemed to take up half the room.

  “Charlotte has taken the news of Lucas's bequest badly,” Ben explained, rubbing my back. “And there are other events which have caused further anxiety.”

  Striker raised a questioning eyebrow. “What sort of events?”

  “I'm pregnant,” I announced quietly.

  The silence in the room was so complete, I was positive a pin would have been noisy if it had dropped on the carpet. Holden's eyes widened and Marianne raised a hand to cover her dropping jaw. Only Striker remained stoic, his eyes flicking to my flat stomach and back up again. Suddenly he grinned. “Buffy's having a baby? Shit, that's great news!”

  Marianne slapped Striker's bulging bicep and glared at him. “For goodness sake, Striker, can't you see that she's upset? Why we ever voted you in as leader, I don't know!” She shoved past her husband and reached my side, taking Ben's place to hug me.

  “What?” Striker grumbled, rubbing his arm. “A baby should be a happy event, why is everyone so damn miserable?”

  “In c
ase you haven't noticed, we're in the middle of a war here,” Holden retorted. “And the baby's father passed away.”

  “Yeah, I know that, dumbass,” Striker muttered. “We've lost our friend and leader. He was a great guy, and we all damn-well know it. But out of the blue, we discover Lott is carrying his baby.” He scratched his forehead thoughtfully. “Now I don't know about the rest of you, but I figure Lucas'd be tickled pink to know there's gonna be a little Lucas running around the place. Hell, it's like getting a little piece of him to keep.”

  “Except you'll all be somewhere else and I'll be alone with the baby,” I sniped bitterly.

  Striker frowned. “What the hell? What are you talking about?”

  “We wouldn't leave you,” Marianne added her protest.

  “Lucas left me the house,” I said in a monotone. “You'll all leave when this is over and I'll be left all alone.” I was feeling particularly sorry for myself and didn't care who knew it.

  To my surprise, Striker chuckled. “I think you've got the wrong end of the story, Buffy. We're not leaving you. Not now, not ever. Sure, some of us'll head off to new places when this business with the Drâghici is over, but if you think you'll get rid of us that easily, you're sadly mistaken.” He strode across the small room in a couple of steps and cuffed my shoulder gently. “We love you, kid. You're part of the family and we look after our own. You're our responsibility - Lucas wouldn't want it any other way. I can't promise we'll all live together like we have done in the past, but I, for one will be keeping a close eye on you and this new baby. Lucas gave you the house, but you don't have to live in it all the time if you don't want to. All he was doing was giving you some security of your own, Lott.” He looked down at the tears tracking lines down my cheeks and grimaced. “Now stop the waterworks and let's sit down and talk about things. Never could deal with a crying woman.”

  I looked at Marianne and she nodded happily. “We wouldn't abandon you, Charlotte.” A glance at Acenith, Ben, Rowena and Holden received similar gestures of agreement and I relaxed a little. “Come and sit down,” Marianne urged, leading me back to the couch.