I looked from Marianne to Ripley and then to Striker and finally Gwynn. Gwynn spoke, her voice firm. “I promise you, Charlotte. No creation. We will never allow it to happen, unless you specifically request it.”
My shoulders slumped as I relaxed, believing their words. The nausea gradually receded as my panic began to subside. Marianne slipped lithely through the gap between Ripley and Gwynn, reaching to hug me. “My poor, poor Charlotte, you really have been through the mill, haven't you? So many things to deal with in such a short lifetime compared to ours. I promise you, we will make your life much happier, if only you'll come back with us. We miss you, we love you, and we want you to come home.” She pulled away a little and looked me squarely in the eye. “Lucas will forgive you for anything you said last week. He loves you, Charlotte. More than anything on this earth.”
The tendril of hope flared in my chest, soothing and warm around the shattered remnants of my heart. I knew it was a risk to go back, knew Lucas might never forgive me. But if I didn't go, I would regret letting the opportunity pass by. I looked into Marianne's sea green eyes and nodded.
Chapter 21: Thirst
The day had been overcast since dawn, now though, the sun shone weakly between the clouds, feeble light playing upon the trees, and creating dappled patterns on the ground.
It took a little over twenty minutes for my cottage to be completely cleared out. Having agreed to come back with them, Striker and Ripley had flown around the small rooms, collecting every article of my belongings and packing them into the back of Striker's Landcruiser; Marianne and Gwynn had insisted on cleaning until the cottage was fresh and perfect to hand back to Maude. If I'd been doing the cleaning, it would have taken a couple of hours. With their phenomenal speed, Marianne and Gwynn took roughly the same amount of time that Striker and Ripley had taken to completely the empty the place. I sat on my old armchair, watching as they zipped around the cottage, blurred images before my weak human eyesight.
The trip to Lucas's house was too short and incredibly nerve-wracking. Marianne lapsed into silence, giving me a little time to think and compose myself, but frankly, I was terrified. What if Lucas told me to turn around and leave? Despite everyone's confidence in his ability to forgive me, I still held tangible doubts about the likelihood of that happening. I'd hurt him so badly. If the situation was reversed, I wasn't certain I could forgive him.
Marianne pulled smoothly off the highway and into the gravel drive and I knew my future was about to be decided. She pulled to a smooth stop outside the house and turned to me, grinning happily. “I'm so pleased you agreed to come home, Charlotte. I promise you, it's all going to be okay.”
“I hope you're right,” I agreed, unclipping the seatbelt.
“Oh, I'm quite certain I'm right,” Marianne said lightly.
“Have you had a vision?” I asked suspiciously.
“Not a one. I told you, my ability misfires sometimes, and at other times, it doesn't work at all,” she responded with a wink. “But I know Lucas loves you, and you love him.”
Before I could reply, the front door opened and Rowena rushed down the stairs, followed closely by Acenith. Rowena reached my side and pulled me tenderly into her arms, swamping me in a hug. I embraced her happily, thrilled to be back with my 'mother'. “Charlotte, I've missed you! I'm so delighted you're back!” Rowena released me and turned to Marianne, while Acenith drew me into her arms.
“Thank goodness you've returned, Charlotte. We've all missed you, terribly.” Acenith released me and gazed down at me with a gentle smile.
Striker, Gwynn and Ripley got out of the four-wheel drive and walked towards us and realization dawned on Rowena's face. “Obviously you had difficulty understanding the request not to interfere in Lucas and Charlotte's business, but I am so pleased you did.” Her eyes focused momentarily on Gwynn and the look that passed between them spoke volumes. A split-second later Rowena's eyes returned to me and a worried frown appeared on her face as she appraised me. It was obvious that my gaunt features and too large clothes gave her the information she needed. “My poor Charlotte, have you eaten anything this past week?” Come inside and let me get you something.”
I shook my head stubbornly. “I have to see Lucas.” I wanted to see him before I could consider doing anything else. I needed to see him, to explain my actions and to apologize for everything I'd said to hurt him.
“Lucas isn't here.” I looked up, hearing William's deep voice. He stood behind the others, his serious demeanor broken only by the small smile he gave me, and the warm light in his eyes. “Hello, Charlotte. Welcome back.”
“Where is he?”
“He's struggled since you left, Charlotte,” Marianne explained softly. “He spends most of his time downriver and prefers being alone.”
“William and I'll go and find him,” Striker offered.
“No, I need to see him, explain what I did.”
“That won't be wise,” William met my eyes, a worried look in his. “Since you left Lucas hasn't fed. Seeing you again after eight days will be difficult for him. It would be wise for Striker and I to locate him, give him the opportunity to hunt before he comes into contact with your scent.”
“No! I have to see him, please! It can't wait.”
William and Rowena's eyes met and for a few minutes, they stared at one another wordlessly. I looked from William to Rowena and then to Marianne, the question in my eyes.
“Some of us can converse telepathically over short distances.”
I raised an eyebrow at this revelation, but remained silent, waiting for them to finish their 'conversation'. Finally William spoke, his voice serious. “Alright. But Striker and I will come along as a precaution.” Seeing the stubborn look in my eyes, he spoke rapidly. “We will stay at a distance to allow you privacy, but it's for your own safety, Charlotte. Lucas may not be able to control his thirst when he first picks up your scent.”
I nodded, aware I was putting myself in the danger Gwynn had warned about, but it was something I had to do.
The long walk along the riverbank made my ankle pulsate with pain but I walked on resolutely, politely declining the offers from the men to carry me. Striker walked beside me silently, matching his pace to my own. William stayed a few yards behind, keeping himself at a safe distance until he readjusted to my scent. I hoped Lucas wasn't too far away – my ankle was swollen and intensely painful each time I put my foot down. It would have been easier to let someone carry me, but walking was giving me time to calm myself before I faced Lucas.
“Are you sure he's down here?” I questioned softly.
“It's not much further,” William replied.
We reached a bend in the river and Striker and William stopped. “He's just around there, on the other side of the trees,” Striker explained. He glanced down at me, his expression soft. “We'll stay here, if we sense any danger, we can be with you in a second.”
I nodded, fervently hoping a second would be enough.
“Charlotte, walk slowly and don't make any sudden moves. Give him a little time to adjust to your scent. Don't get too close, until Striker and I can gauge his reaction to you,” William suggested.
I nodded again, anxious now I was so close. What if he told me to leave? Or attacked me? Despite my determination to go through with this, my mind and heart were filled with apprehension.
With a last weak smile for Striker, I stepped carefully between the trees, following a well-worn path obviously used by Lucas and the others when they went hunting. Although rough, the path was manageable with my foot and I passed the edge of the trees to find Lucas directly in front of me. He stood stock-still by the river's edge with his back to me. Wearing faded Levis and a white shirt, he had a jacket tied loosely at his waist and he still managed to take my breath away.
His arms hung loosely by his sides and as I watched, a mild breeze blew up, catching tendrils of my hair and blowing it around my face. Lucas arched his neck, lifting his face to the sky and sniffed t
he air before turning slowly to face me.
There was no threat in his handsome features, only the deepest melancholy in his blue eyes. He watched me mutely, not attempting to breach the distance between us. His eyes never left mine and I could see the agony he'd felt for the past eight days. His gaze mirrored my own misery.
I limped towards him cautiously, coming to a stop a couple of feet away, aware his eyes had never left mine. Now I was so close, I could see the troubled look in his expression and I reached with meticulous care to touch his cheek softly. He captured my hand with his own and held my fingers against his cool skin, his eyes closing as he groaned.
For perhaps a minute, maybe longer we stood there in silence before I spoke. “I'm so sorry, Lucas. I shouldn't have left you. Those things I said… I lied to you. I didn't mean any of them.”
Lucas released my hand, letting it drop from his cheek. “I knew you were lying.” He opened his eyes and considered me seriously. “What I don't understand is why you would not speak to me about it. Why you would leave, without telling me what you had overheard?”
I lowered my gaze, studying the small pebbles that littered the edge of the riverbed. How could I explain I'd made a mistake? What could I say to right the wrong I had done? How did I explain the truth I'd heard in Gwynn's words, the realities that caused me to leave so abruptly? And how was I going to explain my change of mind?
When I looked up again, Lucas was staring across the river, his forehead creased in a deep frown and I instantly became aware of the battle he was fighting. There was hunger in his eyes and it unnerved me. I stumbled back a step.
“I won't hurt you, Charlotte. But I want – no, I need – an explanation for your actions,” Lucas's voice was hard, his clipped words terse. “I offered you my heart, my trust! You took my trust and the honesty I'd given you and trampled them. You didn't even give me a chance to try and fix the problem!”
I shrugged miserably, anxiously pulling my hair back into a ponytail with my hand before letting it fall loose against my shoulders again.
Lucas visibly stiffened and took a step away from me. “Don't do that, Charlotte. I'm having enough trouble standing close to you, without your scent enticing me further,” he growled.
“I'm sorry… I should have listened to William, waited for him to come and find you.” I felt utterly wretched, knowing this had been a monumental mistake and nothing was going the way I'd hoped. We lapsed into an awkward silence. I didn't know what to say, what to do, or how to build a bridge over the distance that had grown between us in eight days. I wasn't sure whether Lucas was angry, or disappointed… or both. Tears trickled down my cheeks and I wiped them away sorrowfully with my sleeve.
Lucas reached towards me, putting a finger under my chin to lift my face to meet his. “Don't cry, my Charlotte, I'm being too hard on you. My thirst is desperate and I am making this more difficult than it should be, because of it. Your scent… the aroma of your scent drives me wild because I haven't had it close in more than a week.” He paused, watching me intently as I continued to cry silently. “I love you, Charlotte. I love you with my entire being, and will continue to do so. Hush, my love. I will forgive you everything. I want nothing more than to hold you in my arms and allow you to see that I forgive you and love you. But I dare not risk that now.” He paused, glancing behind me towards the trees. “Striker will take you back to the house. I will be there as soon as I can. I can't be near you until my thirst is sated,” he said gently.
William, Ripley, and Striker appeared soundlessly from between the trees, their faces somber. Lucas lifted his hand to his mouth and pressed a kiss to his fingers, then touched his fingers to my lips.
Ripley and I will accompany you,” William offered to Lucas, giving me a small tense smile as he passed.
“Take her back to the house,” Lucas requested Striker. I heard the strain in his voice, knew how much pressure having me close was putting him under. His words had lifted me, filled me with a modicum of hope. It seemed we might be able to work out our issues. I sighed deeply and stepped back, stumbling on the rough terrain.
Striker lifted me effortlessly into his arms. “C'mon, Lott. Rowena'll want to get a good meal into you.” He turned towards the forest and walked slowly through the trees with me. My gaze never left Lucas until he was swallowed by the woods surrounding us. All of a sudden, I was exhausted and I leaned against Striker's massive chest, closing my eyes wearily as he began to run.
≈†◊◊†◊◊†◊◊†≈
“Tell me – who took the casts off?” Jerome was tenderly probing my ankle, he'd arrived from the hospital minutes beforehand, and Rowena had explained the circumstances of my arrival back at the house. He greeted me with a broad smile, then immediately began checking over my injuries, sitting on the edge of the coffee table opposite me.
Striker had deposited me on the couch and Marianne and Acenith fussed around, appearing with pillows to elevate my extremely swollen ankle. Rowena emerged from the kitchen with a plate of sandwiches and I steadily devoured them one after the other, pausing only to sip from the soda Acenith had supplied.
I cried out when he probed a particularly painful spot. “Um. Well, I did.”
Jerome sighed heavily. “As I suspected. When did you take it off? And how did you get it off, might I ask?”
I squirmed uncomfortably. “I took it off the day after I left. With a bread knife.”
To give Jerome his due, he kept a straight face, although one eyebrow lifted and the faintest hint of amusement played on his lips. “A bread knife,” he repeated. “I suppose we should consider ourselves fortunate you didn't amputate your own foot.” He drew himself to his feet, hands resting on his hips. “Unfortunately, you have removed the plaster too early. I'll need to get some x-rays.”
I nodded, stuffing another sandwich into my mouth. After a week subsisting on coffee, I was starving and couldn't get the food into my stomach swiftly enough. Rowena sat at the end of the couch, her pretty features pensive as she watched me.
“Charlotte, what have you been doing to yourself? You look like you've lost twenty pounds.”
I swallowed, feeling like a guilty child as I confessed. “I didn't feel like eating.”
“What? All week? You haven't eaten anything?”
Marianne sat down on the coffee table beside Jerome. She perused my too-loose jeans and well-worn sweater. “Which probably explains why you look like a hobo.”
I ignored her and picked up another sandwich. “About the only thing I've done this past eight days was drink coffee and feel sorry for myself.” Jerome, Rowena, Marianne, and Acenith were in the living room with me, Gwynn had disappeared upstairs. I wondered if Gwynn disappearing was a good sign, or a bad one? Maybe she was giving me space to speak to everyone while she wasn't around.
“When did you last sleep?” Jerome questioned gently, eyeing the dark circles beneath my eyes.
I shrugged. “I don't know.”
“Have you been taking the medication?”
“Yes.” I was happy I could answer truthfully on the matter, the thing I'd promised Ben as I left. “I've taken it every day.”
“Good girl,” Jerome smiled approvingly. Just then, Ben appeared in the living room, his eyes flicking from where I sat on the couch to Rowena. They had another one of those silent conversations and I realized with a start that the couple had the ability to speak telepathically to each other, too. When they'd finished, Ben came to my side, kissing my cheek tenderly and offering me a delighted smile. “I'm so pleased you've come back.”
“Thank you,” I smiled happily at him.
“What about the ribs? Any pain?” Jerome brought my attention back to him and Ben sat down beside Rowena.
“One,” I admitted. “There's an area here,” I pointed to towards my left side, about two inches below my breast. “It's still painful.”
“A chest x-ray also, I think,” Jerome murmured. “I'll drive you down to the hospital to have the x-rays taken, an
d then when we get back I'll give you something to help you sleep. I imagine a steady diet of caffeine has destroyed your natural ability to sleep.”
I shook my head, my eyes filling with tears. “I don't want to do anything till I've seen Lucas.”
“It will be hours before he comes back,” Acenith said, placing her hand on my knee. “It might be better for you to sleep and when he gets back you can talk.” She patted my leg soothingly. “He loves you, Charlotte. He has already forgiven you, I know it.”
“I need to explain myself,” I responded quietly. “He needs to understand why I left.”
“He does,” Ben responded simply.
“Of course he does, Charlotte,” Marianne agreed with a sympathetic smile. “He knows you were doing what you thought best for us all. You were trying to protect Lucas and all of us from any trouble you believed you might cause.”
I dropped the sandwich on the almost empty plate and wiped the back of my hand across my face, brushing away tears, which fell in earnest.
Jerome took control. “Let's get you down to the hospital and take some x-rays. Ben?” It was Ben's turn to lift me without difficulty into his arms and he strode towards the front door. “It will only take half an hour and Lucas will be gone much longer than that. When we get home, a nice hot bath will be in order. Any other decisions can be made after that.”
As promised, Jerome had me back at the house within half an hour – he'd slipped us into the hospital, taken the x-rays and brought them back with him – without anyone being any the wiser that we'd been there. As he'd predicted, my ankle hadn't healed correctly. The break had been an awkward one and he would have x-rayed my foot before taking the cast off to ensure the bone had healed fully. Removing the cast allowed the bone to shift slightly, which accounted for the pain I was suffering. I was dismayed to learn he intended to put another cast on. Despite my pleas to give it more time, Jerome was adamant and I found myself laying in the bath, enjoying one last night of freedom before he reset the ankle and plastered it again. A general anesthetic would be required and when I reacted with alarm at the idea of hospital, he'd calmed me by agreeing he could do it here at Lucas's house.
Knowledge Revealed (The Nememiah Chronicles Book 1) Page 27