The Knowledge of Love (The Nememiah Chronicles Book 4)

by D. S. Williams

  “Okay, so you obviously know who I am. Who the hell are you?” I asked suspiciously. There was an otherworldliness about this man, something not quite human. I didn't have the time nor inclination to figure it out – Archangelo might wake up at any moment and I wanted to end this. To add to my mounting problems my shoulder hurt like a bitch, overwhelming me with pain and I had a colossal headache as the last of my energy dissipated. Using orbs was effective, but quickly debilitating.

  “My name is Goren,” he said. His voice was dispassionate and detached, as if he viewed the world through a screen which alienated him from normal human passions. I wondered again what he was, but now wasn't the time to bother figuring it out.

  “Nice to meet you, Goren. As you can see, I was kind of busy here. Now, if you'll excuse me, I've got some unfinished business to deal with.” I turned to Archangelo, alarmed to find him returning to consciousness.

  Goren gripped my wrist and took the Katchet with minimal force. “I can't let you do that.” His expression was composed and I noticed his eyes were unusually colored – the irises such a deep purple they almost bordered on the color you find in the center of pansies. “It would be a pity for my men to kill you, when you are carrying the first of the new generation in your womb.”

  “You don't understand!” I shrieked. It took a full minute before his words filtered into my overstressed mind. “Wait! What did you say? How do you know about that? Who are you?”

  “My name is Goren. I am elfin, one of the Fae Realm,” he explained. He released my arm and stared at Archangelo. “The Fae are aware of your war with the Drâghici. Through our own form of magic, we know that you carry a child. The first of the new generation.”

  I tried to snatch the Katchet from his hand but he held it high above his head, out of my reach. “You don't get it, do you? If I don't kill him, he's going to keep coming back, killing us all! He'll come after you as well!” I didn't know for sure, but it seemed like one of my few bargaining points in an argument I was losing.

  “He already has,” Goren responded. “His people have one of ours. We want him as leverage to retrieve her.”

  “You're nuts! They aren't going to give her back!” I spat angrily. “The Drâghici don't do deals. They just kill everyone!”

  “Give the girl to the Drâghici. Then you'll get your Princess back.” Archangelo had regained consciousness and sat up, gingerly rubbing a hand over his bleeding head. “I guarantee your Princess will be returned if you co-operate. This girl is who we want.”

  “Who you want, you sick son of a bitch!” I launched at Archangelo but Goren gripped my arm, his hold powerful but gentle. He seemed to be deliberately avoiding any harm.

  “You will do for our requirements,” Goren told Archangelo. “I will not take the girl. She has done nothing to us.”

  Archangelo drew his hand back, preparing to attack but I was ready for it, hurling an orb. It struck his chest and he fell backwards, slamming his head on the cobblestones for a second time.

  “Enough!” Goren growled. “We need him alive to trade with the Drâghici.”

  “How can I convince you this exchange won't work?” I wrenched away from his grasp. “They won't give you what you want! By giving him back to the Drâghici you're helping them to continue this war against us!”

  Goren glanced down at me. “Your war is not our concern. We do not mix with other supernatural beings. Our only concern is for our own people.” Goren gripped Archangelo, lifting him with minimal effort so the vampire's body lay across his shoulder. He draped Archangelo over the front of his saddle, then mounted gracefully behind him. The horse shifted under the extra weight and whinnied nervously.

  “A pleasure to meet you, Nememiah's Child,” Goren said formally.

  “Go to hell!” I responded angrily, watching as the three men circled their horses and clattered down the cobblestone path, riding towards the gates.

  Chapter 15: Rebuild

  “Charlotte!” My gaze lifted from the tiny screen I'd been watching when I heard Conal's voice and I watched him stride across the room, his eyes filled with panic.

  I was shell-shocked and edgy after the battle and subsequent confrontation with Goren, but seeing Conal was a soothing balm to what had been a horrific day. He slipped between Marianne and Rowena to reach my side. “Are you okay?”

  I nodded, smiling down at Katie who was snuggled on the bed beside me. “I'm fine.”

  Conal scanned my bared midriff, the probe that Jerome was pressing against my tummy. “The baby?” he questioned curtly.

  “The baby is fine,” Jerome said.

  “Told you,” I announced. I'd been convinced the scan was unnecessary and argued with Jerome before finally acquiescing to his request.

  Conal's gaze shifted to the tiny monitor. “Is that…”

  “That's Lottie and Lucas's baby,” Katie announced proudly. “I'm gonna look after her.”

  I chuckled. “We don't know whether she's a girl yet, Katie.”

  Katie pouted. “She better be a girl. I don't want none more boys.”

  “No more boys, Katie,” Marianne corrected gently.

  Jerome pointed at the screen. “There's the head, arms, the legs and see there?” He pointed to a tiny dot on the screen that flickered in a steady pattern.

  Conal frowned at the screen, then nodded slowly.

  “That's the baby's heartbeat. Strong and healthy.”

  For a long moment Conal continued to watch the screen, his eyes narrowed on the tiny movements. “It doesn't look much like a baby.”

  “Not yet, but it will.” Jerome lifted the probe away from my belly, then wiped across my skin with a paper towel. “They all look like aliens at this stage. Everything's all right, Charlotte. You'll have a bit of pain from the shoulder for a day or two, but now it's back in place it'll settle quickly. I'll give you some mild pain relief.”

  I sat up, pulling my sweater down over my stomach. “No thanks. I'll be fine.”

  “I'll get back to my other patients,” Jerome said. “Rowena, I could use your assistance.”

  “Of course,” Rowena leaned over to kiss me, and Marianne lifted Katie off the bed.

  “C'mon, Katie, let's go find Gwynn.” They slipped out of the little room and left Conal and I alone. I slid my legs off the side of the bed and jumped to the ground, turning away from Conal while I zipped up my pants. There was an uncomfortable silence between us for a few seconds and I wondered what I should say. We'd had little to do with one another in weeks and there was still the question of where we would go from here. Did he want to pursue a relationship? Were we just friends? Had he seen his girlfriend since he got back? Would he break up with her, or was he happy with the situation as it was? I swallowed down the anxiety and abundant questions and turned back to him.

  “I leave the city for three days, and you manage to get into trouble,” he muttered. “You're really okay?”

  “Fine,” I reassured him. “Archangelo dislocated my shoulder, but Jerome's put it back in place. Other than that, I escaped relatively unscathed.”

  “Nick gave me a rundown of what happened when we portalled in and discovered we'd arrived in hell.”

  After the Fae disappeared with Archangelo in tow, I'd called to Ripley and he arrived within seconds. Lifting William's limp form, he'd rushed him to the hospital. There'd been no chance to go with him, despite the dislocated shoulder I'd returned to the battle, using my right arm to create orbs to return the last of the demons to the Otherworld. Our group continued to fight the younglings for another hour or so, until at last the streets of Zaen were cleared of enemies.

  Holden insisted on escorting me to the hospital when the battle ended and on hearing about the clash with Archangelo, Jerome was adamant about running another scan to ensure the baby was okay. While I hadn't wanted the fuss, the chance to lay my head back and relax for half an hour had been a reprieve I was grateful for.

  “Did Nick tell you about the shields?” I asked. Conal
pulled the door open and I slipped through before him. It seemed safer to stick to the emergency we faced, than to discuss anything personal. I wasn't certain I would like the answers if I asked the questions anyway.

  “No. But I've got a feeling it's bad news.”

  “We've got nothing. Archangelo took out three of the four shields.”

  Conal swore. “First things first. Let's find Epi and inspect the damage, then we can make plans. I hear the old man got enchantments up over the courtyard, that'll keep us reasonably secure for now.”

  I stopped and looked at him, found his expression hard and angry. “Conal, I don't know what we're going to do,” I admitted. “Houses are destroyed; we have no shields. No way of stopping the Drâghici when they come back.”

  Conal brushed his fingers through his hair and visibly forced himself to relax. “We're going to take one step at a time.”

  “Can we stop for a minute? I want to check on William and Clint.”

  “Sure.”

  William and Clint were both in one of the large wards downstairs, along with numerous other people who'd been injured. William sat on a bed on the right side of the ward and he smiled when we approached.

  “You look better than I was expecting,” I admitted.

  “Ben thinks the drywall stopped the electrical impulses from affecting me,” William explained. “I've got a concussion, Jerome's insisting on keeping me overnight.”

  “Sounds like a good idea.” I studied his shadowed eyes with concern. “Hungry?”

  William nodded. “Gwynn is getting some supplies.” His mouth curved into a warm smile. “I'll keep my word, Charlotte. Truth be told, I'm frightened of what you would do to me if I screw up.”

  I laughed. “Keep that in mind.”

  Clint was bolstered against a pile of pillows, Acenith and Misaki sitting beside him. He was pale, his shoulder heavily bandaged, but he grinned when we saw us. “Hey, Charlotte.”

  “How're you feeling?”

  “Like crap. Probably similar to how you felt when that demon stabbed you in Puckhaber,” Clint admitted.

  “He's fine, Charlotte,” Acenith said. “Jerome says if you hadn't gotten him back to the hospital so quickly, he would have bled out.”

  “Glad to hear you're okay, Clint,” I patted his hand warmly and hugged Acenith and Misaki.

  “You've been a busy girl,” Conal remarked when we stepped out into the cold night air. He zipped up the front of his jacket, pushing his hands into the pockets.

  “Speaking of busy, how did your trip go?”

  “We brought three groups back. Two shape shifter packs with about eighty people between them.” He paused for a second before continuing. “And a coven of witches.”

  “Excuse me?” I stared at him. “Witches?”

  “They requested sanctuary. Seems the Drâghici are widening their attack base and want the witches on their side. This group refused to concede, wanted to join us instead.”

  “Oh.” I wasn't certain what else to say. We walked in silence for a few minutes through the darkened streets. The one remaining generator was producing power, but at a greatly reduced rate to what we'd grown used to. “That reminds me. I think I've finally figured out what completing the circle means.”

  “You have?”

  I wrapped my arms around my chest, nodding thoughtfully. “I think we need every supernatural group working together to defeat the Council - including the Fae.”

  Conal scowled. “Then we're doomed. The Fae will never join us.”

  “They might. When they realize the mistake they've made, trying to get the Drâghici to negotiate, they might consider helping us.”

  “Not a chance, Charlotte. The Fae can't be trusted, they're sneaky bastards and the only people they concern themselves with are their own.”

  “Then I guess we're doomed,” I responded inaudibly. “I don't see how we can win without their help.”

  Conal rolled his eyes. “Let's deal with one thing at a time. We need to get Zaen repaired before we deal with anything else. Archangelo knows our shields are down. If the Fae hand him over to the Drâghici, we're screwed.”

  We found Epi a few minutes later, standing in conference with Joe Reynolds and Ambrose Wilkes. Epi held a clipboard in one hand and was taking copious notes as Joe and Ambrose spoke. To one side of the street, numerous cottages were burnt out and a group of men were bucketing water over a fire which still burnt, trying to save the building before it was destroyed.

  “What's the damage?” I asked, surveying the notes on Epi's clipboard with a growing sense of despair.

  “Ah! Conal, my friend. Excellent to have you back,” Epi announced, before he scanned the clipboard. “Not good, I'm afraid. One hundred and fifty cottages destroyed. Nearly double that number have been damaged. Three generators obliterated and the fourth is struggling; it received some collateral damage when the bombs exploded.”

  “What about people?” I asked quietly, dreading the answer.

  “Child, we did far better than I would have expected. Seventy-four dead, one hundred and forty-three injured.”

  “Oh, shit,” I moaned, tears filling my eyes. “How is that 'better', in any stretch of the imagination?”

  Epi looked up, his eyes defiant. “Charlotte, our estimates suggest we took on more than three hundred demons and close to six hundred younglings. Nobody would have believed we could do so well.” He patted my shoulder clumsily. “Your father was outstanding. His tactical skills saved countless lives.”

  I huffed out a sigh, brushing the tears away. “You're right. But seventy-four deaths? It's still too many.”

  “Any death is too many, Charlotte,” Epi agreed. “You must learn to accept our defeats, celebrate our victories. It is the only way you will cope.”

  “So what's the plan?” I asked.

  Epi returned to his clipboard. “We begin the process of rebuilding.”

  “Joe and me will round up anyone with building experience. Get them working on the damaged cottages,” Ambrose suggested.

  Conal nodded his agreement. “I'll start working on the generators.”

  “Excellent,” Epi said, consulting his notes. “I will try and locate anyone who has mechanical experience and send them to you.”

  “What do you want me to do?” I asked. Generators and repairs were not my forte and I didn't know how to help.

  “Talk to people, Child. Instill them with confidence that we have this under control and will protect them. You are Nememiah's Child; they have faith in you.”

  I raised a dubious eyebrow, but nodded agreement. Looking around the city, viewing the damaged houses, inhaling the still-heavy smell of smoke which clung to everything, it was hard to believe anyone would believe we had things under control. But I'd do my best to reassure them.

  Epi, Joe and Ambrose disappeared into the darkness, intent on their tasks. Conal looked at me, brushing an errant curl back from my cheek. “I'd better get going.”

  I reached for him, touching his arm tentatively. “Conal. Are we okay?” He'd refrained from touching me since his arrival back and chronic insecurity made me voice the question, and I held my breath waiting for the answer.

  Conal smiled, his eyes filling with affection. “We need to talk, that's for sure. Right now though, our situation takes a back seat to the current issues.” He caught my chin with his fingers. “We'll be okay.” He strode off in the direction of the generators without a backwards glance.

  I watched him disappear and walked back towards the central courtyard, my thoughts filled with Conal, Lucas, Archangelo and the damage we'd suffered. Conal's response had left me with more questions than answers. Did he mean we'd be okay as friends? More? Less? I didn't know.

  Seeing Lucas had been distressing, enough to make me question if I could move on from him. Seeing him outside the city had tugged at my heart, increased the guilt. I missed him so much.

  It still felt too soon to embark on any sort of relationship with a man - and a
relationship with Conal seemed particularly immoral. I was stabbing Lucas in the back even considering a relationship with Conal. Would I ever get over the sensation that I was cheating on Lucas if I was with Conal? How would the people around us react if Conal did want to start a relationship? What would happen if they discovered he'd left his girlfriend? Would he leave his girlfriend? Did I want him to? I wasn't even sure if Conal wanted it – he'd given no indication, other than to say we were okay. What did that mean exactly?

  “Charlotte, stop it,” Lucas demanded. “You'll drive yourself crazy with all this worry and it's not good for our child.”

  “Haven't I asked you not to listen to my thoughts?” I grumbled.

  Lucas completely disregarded the complaint. “Conal loves you. I have no misgivings whatsoever about you resuming a relationship with him. Which, by the way, I'm certain he will want.”

  “I don't believe you,” I responded, smiling weakly. “You're only saying you don't mind, just to make me feel better.”

  “I've never lied to you and I wouldn't start now. Besides, it isn't as though you are commencing a new relationship – you know Conal. Your love for him is strong.”

  “This is creepy. Talking to the father of my baby about starting a relationship with someone else is something I'm not comfortable with.”

  “Aren't you listening? You're not starting a relationship – you already have feelings with Conal. It's just taking it to the next level.”

  “Still not comfortable, Lucas. Stop interfering.”

  I heard a smile in Lucas's voice. “Get used to it. I'm going to nag you until you give in.”

  “Go away, Lucas.”

  I shook my head, trying to clear Lucas from my thoughts as if I had the power to physically shake him away. I knew it was impossible, but I really wished I could keep my thoughts private.

  For the next few hours I walked around the city - offering words of comfort, sitting with the bereaved, assuring we would rebuild, sending people to Epi when they offered to help. I met some of the new people who'd arrived, offering reassurance of protection even as I doubted it myself. The generators were consistently on my mind and I wondered if any progress was being made. They'd been annihilated in the attack and I suspected they were irreparable.