The Knowledge of Love (The Nememiah Chronicles Book 4)

by D. S. Williams

  “Think about the undamaged shield,” Nememiah directed. “Use the energy to place the parts in their correct positions. Envision them joining together, creating the perfect prism, free of damage.”

  I followed his instructions, watching as the parts began to connect to one another, the metal bending and flexing to mold into the correct shape. I was aware of an increasing numbers of voices behind me and redoubled my efforts to stay focused. As the parts melded together like a huge jigsaw puzzle, white light glowed between the pieces, sealing them together with precision.

  “It is done, Child,” Nememiah announced.

  “Will the shield work now?”

  “You must create the energy needed to power it,” Nememiah said. “Approach the shield and hold out your hand, palm raised upwards.”

  I followed his instructions and held my hand out towards the shield. “Focus yourself and create an orb, hold it on your fingertips. You must concentrate your energy for it to make the generator function.”

  With Nememiah's guidance, an orb appeared and grew slowly against my hand. I could sense the energy building in it as it rotated slowly, the soft orange glow emanating from it gradually building to a white-hot burst of light. When Nememiah announced it was complete, I placed the orb against the shield, watching it glow brightly before it was absorbed into the sphere. For a few seconds nothing happened, but then the shield began to gently hum. The streetlights flared, then became brighter and cheers erupted all around us. I glanced at Conal and he grinned, throwing me a wink.

  Chapter 17: Blood Bank

  I woke to the mouth-watering smell of cinnamon toast and coffee and sniffed the air appreciatively. I rolled over to discover Gwynn sitting beside me, a plate in one hand and a steaming mug in the other.

  “Rowena says you have to eat,” she announced with a smile, handing me the plate. “You said you wanted to be up again by one.”

  I bit into the toast, moaning happily. I was starving and delighted to discover there was no signs of nausea to upset the start of my day.

  “Do you feel better?” Gwynn asked, her eyes drifting across my face as she made her own assessment.

  After repairing the generators, I'd been both physically weak and suffering from a pounding headache. The toll of using so much energy had been harsh and Nick carried me to Rowena and Ben's cottage to rest. They'd been fortunate, with their cottage only suffering minor damage and I'd slept soundly from the second my head hit the pillow. I considered how I felt as I swallowed the toast down rapidly. My head still ached a little, but in comparison to how I'd felt earlier, it was a considerable improvement. I was refreshed and alert, prepared to face the day.

  “I feel good,” I announced. “How's William?”

  Gwynn's eyes sparkled at the mention of her husband. “He's well. He headed down to help out with the rebuilding.”

  “That's good news.” I leaned across and hugged Gwynn. “I was terrified he'd been killed.”

  “He's tough,” Gwynn said, patting my back. “He's also pleased that he controlled the bloodlust when Clint got hurt.” She grinned mischievously. “I hear he was under threat from you if he didn't behave himself.”

  “As if he would ever be frightened of me,” I scoffed.

  Gwynn pursed her lips, considering her words. “Not frightened exactly.” Her eyes warmed. “He certainly respects you and loves you, as we all do. He wouldn't like to disappoint you.”

  I headed into the shower after breakfast, scrubbing myself clean and washing my hair. I hadn't showered since before our last training session and the subsequent attack, consequently I was filthy and wallowed blissfully under the hot spray. My thoughts drifted to Conal, a smile playing on my lips as I recalled him working on the generators, bare-chested and gorgeous.

  Ignoring a flutter of guilt, I analyzed my reactions, wondering why he'd had such an effect last night. I'd seen him without a shirt in the past and never had a flurry of butterflies settle in my stomach before. I'd always considered him attractive and recalled how I'd thought he was handsome the first time we met. If I were to guess, my reactions in the past had been tempered by being in love with Lucas. Even when Lucas and I separated, when I'd been living with Conal my reactions had been suppressed. Perhaps I'd stifled my response to him because of Lucas?

  I rinsed the shampoo from my hair and massaged conditioner through the wet strands. Was there something wrong with me? To be drooling over Conal so soon after Lucas's death, my moral compass was skewed. Not only skewed, but severely compromised. I was pregnant to Lucas and I didn't even know what Conal wanted. I'd barely seen him since his return to the city. He'd said he needed time to think through the ramifications of my pregnancy. A small trickle of panic filtered into my mind when I realized he might choose to walk away. Perhaps friendship was all he wanted.

  I stopped massaging the conditioner when I realized what I was thinking, and I stood stock-still under the steaming water, hardly daring to breathe. My moral compass was definitely skewed, I decided with mounting shame. I would be disappointed if he didn't want me. What sort of person was I? Biting my lip pensively, I rinsed the conditioner from my hair and turned off the faucets. If I persisted with this train of thought, I was going to drive myself crazy.

  Dressed warmly as protection against the frigid weather, I stepped outside and hurried towards the mess. Snow flurries whirled past my face as I walked, my hands shoved deep into my pockets. I was grateful for Nememiah's help in fixing the generators, without his intervention people would be sleeping out here for a second night. When I'd last seen Epi he'd been rearranging the housing allocations, organizing accommodation while repairs were made. An amused smile played over my lips. The diverse supernatural groups were more intertwined than ever before, having to share living space with one another. Werewolves were boarding with shifters; witches were sharing houses with vampires – it had been the only solution to ensure everyone had a roof over their heads. I wondered if it was working out, but I assumed Gwynn would have mentioned if any major altercations erupted between the groups. Perhaps there was a bright side to the attack we'd sustained.

  The city was a hive of activity despite the horrific weather conditions. The repairs were continuing at a rapid rate and the sounds of construction rang out from every street. I found myself thinking about Conal again – where was he? Hopefully he was tucked up in bed and sleeping. A hot flush crept over my cheeks as my imagination worked overtime. Questioning my moral integrity again, I made my way to the mess.

  “Charlotte! Hi!” Randy met me at the doorway, a beaming smile lighting up his freckled face.

  “Hey Randy. How are you?” I pulled off my coat, hanging it on the rack by the door.

  “Great, good.” His gaze flicked around the room for a moment. “There's a spare table over there.”

  I saw the table he pointed out. It happened to be situated two tables away from his buddies. “That'll be fine.”

  “What would you like?” Randy asked. “It's a bit cold for a soda.”

  “Yeah, it is. Hot chocolate?” I pulled off my mittens and tucked them into the pocket of my coat.

  “Sure. That's a great idea. I'll get them, you sit down.”

  Randy would make someone a nice boyfriend one day, he seemed like a good kid. I made my way to the table he'd pointed out, waving to people when they caught my attention.

  Randy made his way back to the table, carrying a tray. “I didn't know if you'd want marshmallows, so I brought them over on a plate. And Nonny sent over chocolate brownies.” He placed a steaming mug of hot chocolate in front of me and I reached for the marshmallows, dropping some into the cup.

  Randy sat down and smiled nervously, stirring his hot chocolate so hard it threatened to tip over.

  Eyeing the chocolate brownies, I decided against one. Having been given a reprieve earlier, the nausea was back now and a chocolate brownie wouldn't help, despite how delicious they looked.

  “So Randy, tell me about yourself.” I steered h
im into conversation, realizing he was completely dumbstruck now we'd sat down. It was kind of cute.

  “Um. Well really, there's not much to tell.”

  This was going to be harder than I'd anticipated. “Are you still in school?”

  He looked at me for a second, then lowered his gaze and blushed. “I was a junior, but when all this happened, Mom and Dad decided it might be better to defer until we can go home again.”

  So he was seventeen. “Where's home?” I probed gently.

  “Maine.”

  “And you live with your Mom and Dad? Any brothers and sisters?”

  “Two younger sisters. They're both in school here.” He screwed up his nose, a reaction which made him seem younger. “They're annoying.”

  I hid a smile, sipping my hot chocolate. “How old are they?”

  “Kate is fourteen and Amy is twelve.”

  The conversation continued and Randy gradually relaxed, becoming less self-conscious as he spoke about his life. He told me about his parents, how they'd run when the Drâghici attacked and camped out for weeks, moving from place to place as they were pursued relentlessly by younglings. He talked about his interests, his love of sailing and being on the basketball team at school. He spoke about his friends, the ones who were unaware of his family's secret and would wonder why they'd disappeared. There hadn't been time for goodbyes or explanations.

  “You're shape shifters?” I asked during a lull in the conversation.

  Randy screwed up his nose dismissively. “Yeah. Nothing exciting though.”

  I raised an eyebrow. “What do you shift into?”

  “Dogs,” he muttered. “Out of all the cool things we could shift into, we turn into bloodhounds.” He blushed furiously, staring at his mug.

  I repressed the smile which would embarrass him further. “Bloodhounds are okay, Randy.”

  “Charlotte? Hello.” Randy and I glanced up to find Gabrielle standing beside the table, a coffee mug in her hand.

  “Hi, Gabrielle.” I motioned to Randy. “This is my friend, Randy Norton.”

  Gabrielle inclined her head towards Randy and offered him a friendly smile before returning her attention to me. “Epi wants to see you when you have a spare moment and I wanted to tell you that we've completed the enchantments over the shield generators. Whilst not completely foolproof, they will be safer from attack now.”

  “Really? That's wonderful news.” I smiled warmly and she beamed her pleasure in return. “Pretty fast work.”

  “We're pretty powerful witches,” she agreed with no suggestion of vanity. For a long moment she continued to gaze at me, her eyes focused on a point a little above my hair. Her eyes flicked back to mine. “I wonder if we could catch up for a coffee later? I'd like to speak to you privately.”

  “Sure,” I agreed easily. “Let me see what Epi wants first, then I'll come and find you. Where are you staying?”

  “We're in the third row. Turn right from the alleyway opposite the mess and we're fourth on the left. Epi arranged for Leonora and I to stay with Marianne and Striker Tine until we get a place of our own.”

  “How's that working out?”

  She smiled. “We don't normally have a lot to do with vampires – but they seem like nice people.”

  “Good to hear.”

  She left us alone and I watched her departure before turning to Randy. “Now, what were we talking about?”

  Randy leaned forward, licking cream from the end of a spoon. “You were telling me that shifting into dogs wasn't so bad.” He looked so disconsolate, I knew I needed to say something which would make him feel better about himself.

  “It isn't so bad. You have sharp teeth and claws.” He looked doubtful so I tried again. “Size doesn't matter, Randy. It's ability which counts. Look at me.” I waved at myself. “I'm as ordinary as they come and I take on demons. Never would have believed it, if somebody had suggested this was what I'd be doing twelve months ago.”

  “But you have all those really cool powers.”

  I leaned forward, laying my hand on his arm. “Let me give you a tip. Really cool powers have nothing to do with it. The important thing is believing in what you're doing. To fight for what's right and having the courage to stand up for your convictions.” I leaned back, watching his eyes which were half-concealed by his fringe. “Everyone has a role to play in this war, Randy, regardless of who or what they are. I bet your Dad fights just as courageously as everybody else does.”

  “Charlotte.”

  My heart bounced when I heard Conal's voice and I saw him approaching the table. He looked more alert now that he'd showered, damp hair leaving wet spots on the shoulders of his t-shirt. When he reached the table he looked down at me, his eyes hard and cold.

  “Hi, Conal. Did you get some sleep?”

  He inclined his head curtly. “Yeah.”

  I wasn't sure what had brought on this mood, but it made me uneasy. “Conal, this is Randy. Randy, this is Conal Tremaine.”

  “Hey, Mr. Tremaine,” Randy said. He had apparently picked up on Conal's foul mood because he slouched in the chair, staring at his empty mug nervously.

  Conal nodded at him curtly and spoke to me. “Jerome wants to see you. He and Matt are at the hospital.” Without another word he strode away and I stared after him in dismay.

  “I'd better go,” I announced. My heart was pounding and a sense of impending doom overwhelmed me. What had I done to make Conal so angry?

  “Thanks for coming,” Randy responded, his eyes filled with hope. “Maybe we could do it again sometime?”

  I grinned, not wanting to spoil Randy's day. “Sure, I'd like that.”

  On the way to the hospital I searched for Conal, but he was nowhere to be seen. Pushing him from my mind, I headed towards the room which was being used for genetic work. Marianne had named it the 'Secret Charlotte Lab'.

  I knocked, then pushed open the door, hoping to find Conal inside with Jerome and Matt. Disappointment swamped me when I discovered not Conal, but Ben with the other two men. “I think we may have good news,” Ben announced.

  Matt was settled on a gurney, a needle in his arm was extracting blood into a collection bag. “Ben thinks my blood will work.”

  “Really?” It was the best news I'd heard in days, a chance to give other people the use of the weapons.

  Ben nodded. “As we suspected, Matt's blood seems identical to yours. We've run every test imaginable and can find no differences.”

  Matt rubbed his nose thoughtfully with his thumb. “So the question is, who are you choosing to test it on?”

  I leaned against the gurney and thought carefully. “Obviously we have to tell the person why we're using Matt's blood instead of mine.”

  “Hence why we wanted your opinion,” Jerome said. “Whoever is chosen will know you're pregnant. Not something I wanted to announce myself.”

  “It's your call, Charlotte,” Ben added.

  The choice was obvious really. The only person I trusted enough was Nick. He would keep my secret and had proven his loyalty over and over again.

  Ben smiled in approval when I told them the decision. “I suspected you would choose him. Personally, I think Nick's an excellent choice.”

  Jerome reached for the needle in Matt's arm and began to stem the flow of blood. “How about you go and find him while I get prepared? I can't do everything around here.”

  “I'm assuming Nick is drinking this from a glass?”

  Matt looked self-conscious. “I'm learning to deal with all this, Charlotte. But no-way-in-hell, is someone drinking blood directly from my veins.”

  Nick was working with Rafe and Marco, their massive energy resources being employed to remove rubble surrounding some of the most damaged cottages. The boys laughed and joked with each other as they collected piles of rubble and smashed bricks, throwing it all onto a neat pile in the center of the street. They greeted me when I arrived and I asked Nick to come to the mess for a quick meeting. I didn't want questions
asked by saying he was needed at the hospital.

  Nick and I walked towards the courtyard and when we reached the mess I 'fessed up. “Nick, we need to go to the hospital.”

  Nick narrowed his eyes. “What's up?”

  I tugged at his sleeve. “Please, Nick. I promise I'll explain everything inside.”

  Nick's frown deepened when we entered the lab where Ben and Jerome waited, his eyes searching mine. “What's going on?”

  I took a deep breath. “Nick, there's something you need to know.”

  Nick cursed. “You're not sick are you? You haven't looked well for weeks.”

  I chewed my lip, rubbing at the tension in my neck with one hand. “No, Nick. I'm not sick - I'm pregnant.”

  Nick stared at me, his eyebrows rising so high, they nearly disappeared into his hairline. He suddenly cursed a blue streak before he regained control again. “You're kidding, aren't you?”

  I shook my head slowly left, then right.

  Jerome explained the situation calmly. “Charlotte can't give anybody her blood. The pregnancy has altered its core components and we don't know if it would be effective.”

  Nick seemed pensive, completely stunned by the news we'd hit him with. He rubbed his fingers across his jaw thoughtfully, opened his mouth as though to speak, then closed it again.

  I grinned, seeing the funny side to his reaction. “Nick, say something.”

  “Shit, Lottie. I don't have a clue what to say! You're having a baby. It's kind of amazing.” He braced his left arm against the bench. “But I guess in the circumstances, it's not good at all, is it?” He looked down at me, his head tilted to one side and I knew he was trying to think of the right thing to say.

  “I'm getting used to the idea, Nick. It's okay,” I reassured him.

  “Your Dad's got the same blood, right?”

  “We believe so,” Jerome said. “We've done all the tests to assure it would have the same effects.”

  Nick's eyebrows rose. “I'm guessing you need a guinea pig?”