The Knowledge of Love (The Nememiah Chronicles Book 4)

by D. S. Williams

  “It's up to you, Nick. Jerome's done a range of tests and he's certain Matt's blood is identical to mine. Until someone tries it and picks up a Hjördis, we're really not gonna know.”

  Nick considered his options silently for a minute and I breathed a sigh of relief when he shrugged. “Sure, I'll do it.”

  Jerome handed him a glass of Matt's blood. “This should be the correct dosage to give you the ability, Nick. Be warned though, this is all guesswork.”

  I frowned at Jerome and he frowned back. “Don't look at me like that, Lottie. The man has the right to know we're guessing before he goes ahead.”

  Nick screwed up his nose, holding the glass up to his face to study it. “Can't say it's the most appealing damn thing I've drunk.” He caught my eye and grinned. “If I get to use those weapons, it'll be worth it.” He raised the glass to his lips and swallowed the liquid rapidly. Wiping his mouth against his sleeve, Nick turned to Ben. “What happens now?”

  “When Conal drank the blood, the effect was instantaneous.” Ben retrieved his Hjördis from his pocket and offered it to Nick. “Try it out.”

  Nick scanned the room doubtfully. “Ben, is that such a good idea? Seems to me there's a lot of stuff in here that could get smashed if this doesn't work. Including me.”

  “I'm ninety-five percent certain it will be successful,” Jerome announced. “And this is about the only place we can get some privacy to conduct this experiment.”

  Nick's eyebrows closed in on one another. “What's the big deal?”

  I sighed. “Nick, I'm going to keep the pregnancy secret for as long as possible. You're one of the select few who've been told.”

  “How the hell are you going to keep it secret?” Nick questioned. “Being pregnant usually involves growing a nice big belly, from what I've heard.”

  “I know I can't keep it quiet forever,” I responded. “Just for as long as possible. I don't want to create a panic.”

  Nick pondered my explanation for a couple of seconds, then he broke into a broad grin. “Epi doesn't know, does he? Christ, Charlotte, I wouldn't want to be in your shoes when he does find out.”

  “Neither do I,” I agreed dryly. “It's not just Epi, we think it's better to keep everyone in the dark for now.”

  Nick ran his fingers through his hair, considering the repercussions. “You know I'll keep my mouth shut, Lott. You'd better give me a heads up about who does know. I don't want to get caught out with this.”

  “Before I do that, can you try the Hjördis? Please.”

  Ben held the Hjördis in his open palm and Nick stared at it for a second. “Here goes nothing.” He whipped his hand forward, as though the faster he grabbed it, the less likely the chance of the Hjördis blasting him across the room. He seemed stunned when he had the Hjördis in his grasp, then his eyes lit up with delight. “It's working.”

  Chapter 18: Auras

  Nick and I left the hospital together and came to a stop in the courtyard, our mouths simultaneously dropping at the sight which greeted us.

  “Are those – turkeys?” Nick asked.

  “I think so.” Insanity prevailed in front of us, with thirty or so living and breathing turkeys running around in the snow. A number of people were in pursuit, and I couldn't stop the bubble of laughter which crept up and burst from my lips. I exchanged a glance with Nick, and found he was as amused by the spectacle as I was. Epi stood to one side, his glasses crooked on his nose and his hair standing up every which way as he watched the chase. I strolled across to him, still chuckling and unable to draw my gaze from the sight.

  “Ah, Epi?” I questioned. “Why are there turkeys running all over the courtyard?”

  Epi rubbed his hand through the sparse hair on the top of his head and looked sheepish. “Nonny requested I acquire turkeys for Christmas.”

  I giggled, lifting my hand to my mouth to hide my amusement. “I'm guessing your, ah, acquisition went a bit haywire?”

  Epi groaned. “You have no idea, child. The needs of one thousand people are difficult to keep up with.”

  “Could the witches help?” I patted his shoulder. “Maybe you're trying to do too much.”

  “Yes, yes. You're right of course. I will speak with Gabrielle and see if they are able to assist. Lord knows, I could use the help.”

  One of the turkeys ran past with three teenage boys in hot pursuit, slipping and sliding in the snow. “Sounds like a good idea to me, Epi.” I grinned. “Speaking of Gabrielle, she told me you wanted to see me?”

  Epi exhaled deeply as one of the turkeys flapped by, making a heck of a racket as it tried to escape its pursuers. “I think it's imperative that we begin training with the Archangelo facsimile as soon as possible, Child. I want you ready to begin tomorrow morning.”

  “Epi, I can't tomorrow.”

  “Young lady…”

  All trace of amusement evaporated. “Funerals, Epi.”

  Epi blinked owlishly. “Of course, child.” The cremations had been delayed due to the concern over the shields, and the first funerals were scheduled to take place at dawn the following morning. It had become a custom to attend every service and I didn't intend to change that now. The city had put their faith in me and I intended to honor that faith by attending every funeral. “We will delay training until the funerals have concluded.”

  I hugged the old man, grateful he'd accepted the decision without argument. “Thanks, Epi.”

  “Of course, child, of course.” He groaned. “Perhaps I should ask Matt to bring the machine gun down here. It might be the quickest way of stopping these infernal birds…”

  Leaving him to it, I said goodbye to Nick and head towards the cottages. Today already seemed endless, with a continuous round of people needing my time. Since the war had broken out, there had hardly been time for anything else. A twinge of sadness rose, remembering the amount of hours Lucas and I had dedicated towards this war and how little time it left for us. With everything that had happened in the tumultuous months since I'd met Lucas, I desperately regretted the time we'd spent apart, considering it a terrible waste. I shook off the gloomy thought. Hindsight was a wonderful thing, but it wouldn't bring him back to me.

  I turned into the third street and knocked on Marianne and Striker's door. A few seconds passed before Gabrielle appeared in the doorway. Wearing grey linen pants and a cashmere sweater, she looked less like a witch and more like a soccer mom. Of course, my knowledge of witches was miniscule and based on the baloney spouted in fiction.

  “Hello, Charlotte, thank you for coming.”

  We went inside and Gabrielle offered me a chair. I sat down gratefully and Gabrielle waited while I got comfortable. “Would you like anything? A cup of coffee?”

  “No, thank you. I can't stay too long.” I wanted to try and find Conal, find out what was going on with him.

  She sat in the chair opposite mine, crossing her legs elegantly. “I don't know quite what I expected, but you really don't look like an angel.”

  I grinned. “You really don't look like a witch.”

  She looked down at her hands. “That's true enough, I suppose. I imagine you thought I would have wild, tangled hair, a big wart on my nose? That's the populist theory.”

  “Something like that,” I agreed. “Or a lightning-shaped scar and a red-headed friend.” I paused for a moment. “What did you want to talk about, Gabrielle?”

  She eyed me curiously. “When is your baby due?”

  I felt my eyes widen and fought to maintain my composure. “Excuse me?”

  Gabrielle clasped her hands together in her lap. “You're pregnant,” she announced calmly.

  I opened my mouth to speak, shut it again, not knowing how to respond. Her statement had thrown me for a loop.

  Gabrielle's smile held no menace. “Perhaps a cup of tea will help.” She disappeared into the kitchen and I heard the sound of running water and the clink of cups.

  My first instinct was to get up and leave. Run from the cottage and
get as far away from this… witch as possible. How could she possibly know? Had someone broken my confidence? I dismissed that notion immediately. Nobody would have told her, she was new to the city and it would take time for her to gain everyone's trust. I tried desperately to get my thoughts into order, wondering what to say when she came back into the room.

  “Trust her, Charlotte.” Lucas said, sounding calm. “She means you no harm.”

  Before I had a chance to respond, Gabrielle appeared with a tray, setting it down on the table before me. “Ginger tea. It's very good for nausea,” she murmured, pouring the tea and handing me a cup.

  I studied her warily. “Hypothetically speaking – if I was pregnant. How could you know?”

  She appraised me thoughtfully with those sky blue eyes. “There's nothing hypothetical about it, Charlotte. You are pregnant and I know because you have a twofold aura.”

  “Excuse me?” I put the cup down, my hands trembling too much to hold it.

  “A twofold aura.” She sipped delicately from her own cup and placed it on the table. “Part of my abilities, if you will, is to read people's emotions and moods. You read people through their ancestors. When you touched me, you received access to my ancestors. What I do is similar but by no means equal – I interpret people's intentions from their auras.”

  “And I have a twofold aura?” I questioned blankly.

  She nodded. “One aura is yours. The second is your unborn child's.”

  Lifting the cup from the table I sipped the tea slowly, wondering if I could believe her, or if she'd heard the news from someone and was working an angle on me. I couldn't figure out a reason she would do so, not when the witches had just arrived and Peter had seemed so insistent they were grateful for our protection. “So this aura thing – what does it tell you?”

  Gabrielle shrugged, making the movement seem infinitely graceful. “Auras are an electro-magnetic field which surrounds the human body. Unlike many of those psychic fools you hear about I don't 'cleanse them'.” She raised her hands, moving them as though she was tracing over an invisible human body. “That's a nonsense. Your aura is what it is, it cannot be changed.”

  “What sort of information can you learn from an aura?” Curiosity had gotten the better of me and I wanted to know more about this ability Gabrielle was professing to have.

  “Well,” Gabrielle said slowly, “in some ways it's similar to what you do. In my case, I don't need physical touch – everyone has an aura surrounding their body. I read the colors they project and ascertain information about them. I understand you only have contact with the spiritual ancestors of those who mean you no harm?” Seeing my nod of agreement, she continued. “In my case, I see everyone's aura, good, bad or indifferent.”

  “What color is my aura?”

  Gabrielle's eyes brightened. “Almost completely silver. I have never seen anything quite like it.” She licked her lips, sipping her tea again before she spoke. “It's the color of purity. Of course,” she waved her hand towards me, “there are other colors intertwined, which speak of your emotional well-being.”

  I leaned back in the couch, crossing my legs. “Such as?”

  Gabrielle focused on the empty space above my head, as I'd seen her do in the mess. “Some deep red, which indicates you having strong will-power and sense of self. You will fight for what you believe in. Bright pink, which tells me you love deeply and care profoundly for friends and family. A little forest green which represents guilt, remorse and grief.”

  “What about the second aura?” I asked quietly

  “The second aura is pure silver,” Gabrielle announced. “Your child carries the blood of angels, as you do.”

  We lapsed into a comfortable silence and I thought about what she'd told me, coming to terms with another person who had a unique talent. When I finally looked up, Gabrielle was watching me, her blue eyes intense. “Yes, I am pregnant,” I admitted. “Very few people know.”

  Gabrielle nodded. “You're concerned as to how your pregnancy will be accepted?”

  I shrugged and shook my head. “These people need to have faith in me. I don't want them second guessing what I do based on the fact I'm pregnant.”

  “Who is the father?” Gabrielle questioned softly.

  My heart contracted in my chest. “Lucas died nearly two months ago.”

  Gabrielle tilted her head, her eyebrows lifting. “Now you've surprised me.”

  “You've been surprising me since I got here,” I muttered. “Why is the fact that Lucas died a surprise?”

  “Because there is a remarkable connection between you and Conal, the werewolf who brought us here. I thought he was the father of your baby.”

  “No,” I admitted, my voice almost a whisper. “What sort of connection do you see between Conal and I?”

  Gabrielle stood up and crossed the room to sit beside me. She patted my leg and took my hand. “As I said, emotional relationships can be read through auras. When I look at people, not only do I see their own aura, but the equivalent of an aura ribbon appears when they are near one another, if there is a relationship between them. When you and Conal were standing near each other, I noticed it. The aura between the two of you is bright pink and filled with radiance.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “You love each other deeply,” Gabrielle explained and watched as a blush heated my cheeks. “Of course, it can constitute any number of relationships – mother to child, brother to sister, father to son.” She watched me carefully. “Usually when it is so pink – it indicates a romantic relationship.”

  I lowered my gaze to where her hand clasped mine and I stared at her polished nails while I pulled myself together. “It's… a very complicated situation.”

  “And none of my business,” Gabrielle announced cheerfully.

  “Can you all do this? Is it a skill every witch has?”

  Gabrielle shook her head. “It's my gift. We all have some special talent, aura-reading is mine.”

  “It's impressive,” I admitted. “Would you be willing to help us by using your gift?”

  “Of course,” Gabrielle agreed. “I assume you'd like me to tell you if I see anything untoward in someone's aura?”

  “It would be particularly helpful if you read newcomers when they arrive in Zaen. We have a sort of… security system operating. I check the newcomers through contact with the spirits and Ripley, he reads people's thoughts.”

  “And you think my skill for aura reading…”

  “…would give us another level of checks, yes,” I finished for her.

  Gabrielle leaned in, frowning a little. “Charlotte, my skill isn't infallible. I may see guilt in someone's aura, however it could be guilt over an illicit love affair, not over a desire to hurt the people living here. People show emotions for all kind of reasons, most of them inconsequential.”

  I considered for a minute, weighing up what she'd said. “I'd still like your input, if you'd be willing. If you were to see anything particularly strong in someone's aura, it would be helpful to know we should question that person more intently before giving them entrance.” I looked up into her eyes. “Will you help us?”

  Gabrielle smiled. “I'd be happy to.” She poured another cup of tea for us both. “There is a particular reason I asked you here today.”

  “Other than this aura reading thing?”

  Gabrielle sipped her tea. “Do you know a girl in the city called Rachel?”

  An image of the perfect girl who'd kissed Conal flashed into my mind unbidden. “Yeah. She's one of the werewolves.”

  Gabrielle watched me for a moment before she spoke. “Rachel came to see me this morning. She asked me to prepare a love potion for her.”

  “A love potion?” I repeated blankly.

  “She wanted it for Conal.”

  My fists clenched involuntarily and a rush of jealousy burnt in my chest. “A love potion,” I repeated again. “Would that work?”

  “Oh yes. My love potions are qu
ite famous.”

  “Did you give her one?”

  “No.” I felt a rush of relief as Gabrielle continued. “I told her my role is to assist in the war against the Drâghici, not to create potions for young women trying to catch a man. Having seen the strength of the aura between you and Conal, I felt I had a responsibility to warn you of Rachel's intentions.”

  I felt a rush of gratitude for the beautiful woman beside me. “Thank you.”

  “You're welcome.”

  “So tell me more about being a witch.” I was fascinated and sitting here in the warm house seemed like a pleasant way to waste an hour. I thought about the appropriate way to voice the question I wanted to ask. “Is it a full time job?”

  Gabrielle laughed, a tinkling sound like wind chimes. “No, not in most cases. The majority of witches have real jobs to pay the bills. Probably similar to the werewolves and the shifters.” She grinned. “I'm a florist back home in Kansas.”

  “Really?”

  Gabrielle nodded. “In fact, my gift with auras helps a great deal. Being able to read auras helps me to select the appropriate flowers for my customers.”

  “What about the other witches?”

  “Peter works as a stock market analyst. Leonora is a school teacher and Hannah is a hair stylist.”

  I bit my lip, suppressing the urge to giggle. “It all seems so normal.”

  Gabrielle's eyes shone with mirth. “What did you expect?”

  I shrugged ruefully, shaking my head. “I don't know. Broomsticks, cauldrons, strange spells and wands?”

  “Taking into consideration your comment about lightning shaped scars and red-headed friends, together with your last statement, you've obviously read Harry Potter,” Gabrielle said with a smile. “Which is a million miles away from reality. Epi tells me you only learned of the supernatural world in the past year?”

  “Yeah. Which reminds me - Epi doesn't know about the baby yet.”

  “I won't tell anyone and you have my word of honor,” Gabrielle reassured me. “It's your business.” She put her empty cup down. “When is the little one due?”