The shrug I gave him was non-committal, my emotions and temper being progressively shredded. “I guess so.” My eyes filled with tears and I brushed at them furiously. “Lucas, everything is such a mess. I don't know how to fix any of it.”
“Perhaps if you'd chosen to discuss these problems with me, Child, things would not be such a mess.”
I rolled my eyes at the sound of Nememiah's voice. His appearance was all I needed, to complete what had turned out to be a particularly difficult evening. Lucas squeezed my fingers in encouragement. “Be honest with Nememiah,” he urged. “Tell him exactly how you feel.”
Releasing my mental grasp on Lucas's solid form, I watched him drift away like so much smoke before I heard him returning to my mind with the other spirits.
“Nememiah?” I spoke his name aloud, drawing my knees up to my chest and wrapping my arms around my legs.
“Yes, Child.” His booming voice entered my psyche, the sense of calm he emitted flooding over me, trying to soothe my mood. He was wasting his time. “Why have you avoided speaking with me? I have heard your thoughts, seen your actions in recent days. Why have you not chosen to bring these problems to me?”
Keeping a tight lid on my bad humor, I attempted to respond in a level, calm voice. “Seems to me, I recall you telling me I had to handle this on my own.”
“A mistake on my part. It is becoming apparent that you are far too young to deal with this war without aid.”
The frostiness in his tone was unmistakable and I bristled angrily. “You're the one who put me in this position – remember? Seems to me, you're the one who got me into this mess!”
Silence descended for a good minute after my outburst before Nememiah spoke again. “It is true; you were never meant to be drawn into this war. However, you should have told me you needed help.”
I shook my head, feeling mutinous. “There should be a guidebook for this freaking job. You were the one who told me I had to deal with everything on my own! Now, you're telling me I should have contacted you for help?” My voice shook with fury. “Make up your damn mind.”
“You're enforced captivity has made you even more irritable than usual.”
“I am not irritable!” I scrambled to my feet, pacing across the narrow floor. “What the hell did you expect? Archangelo kidnapped me, convinced me I was married to him! He's stolen my baby – the same baby you said must be protected at all costs! But you let this happen! They've got my baby, and I can't get him back! I don't know how to rescue him!”
“The child is safe.”
I stopped mid-pace, utterly bewildered by his response. “Safe? Safe? He's being held by the Drâghici! How, in any stretch of the imagination, does that make him safe?”
“They have not harmed him. He is being nurtured and fed by one of the Fae.” Nememiah sounded genuinely confused by my resentment. “If he was in any danger, I would remove him from where he is being held.”
“He is in danger! He's being held by our enemies. The bad guys!” I resumed pacing, unable to believe what I was hearing. “How can you consider that safe? He's my baby, mine, and Lucas's. He should be with me, I'm his mother!”
There was another protracted silence, punctuated by my sniffles as I tried to stop myself from crying again. It seemed it was all I'd done in recent days. “I do not understand the rules of your world. I assumed, given the child is in no danger, you would be happy. Obviously, that was incorrect.”
“Obviously,” I muttered. “And I'm not happy. I want my baby back.”
“The vampire has offered to return him to you.”
“Yeah, and you're going to send him to spirit purgatory for his efforts!”
“I do not understand this 'spirit purgatory', but it is true, the vampire would be banished,” Nememiah agreed. “But he is dead to you. Why would this make a difference?”
“Obviously, things work a lot differently wherever it is that you exist,” I muttered rebelliously. “Here on earth, we try to protect those we love. I love Lucas. I can't let him sacrifice himself.”
“But you want your child. What if it is a choice you must make? Your child – or the spiritual loss of your child's father?”
I bit my lip, thinking for a minute. “How about you make a choice?” I suggested coldly. “Give me back my baby, or I walk away from this war.”
His response came in an arctic breath of icy air, enough to blow my hair away from my face. “You don't have a choice in the matter. You are Nememiah's Child.”
“You're wrong. I do have a choice.” Suddenly, I knew exactly what my decision would be. What it always had to be. “You either give me back my son and let Lucas continue to exist. Or I'm done. I won't fight this war for another minute. I'll go into the Realm and locate my baby for myself. I can't do this anymore. Not without Lucas or my son.”
“You are Nememiah's Child. My child. You will do as I tell you.”
“No, I won't. I choose love for my son, and Lucas, over this war. Everyone else'll have to manage without me.” I twisted towards the flap of the tent, intent on ending the conversation. Nememiah obviously couldn't – or wouldn't – help me. Exactly as I'd suspected.
I resolved to do what I had to; go into the Realm, find my son, and take him away, somewhere that the Drâghici and Aethelwine and the Fae would never find us. Deep in my heart, I acknowledged that it would be difficult to leave these people, but I would do what I had to. I wanted my son back. And I wouldn't lose Lucas because of it.
Pushing back the flap of the tent, I stepped over the threshold and strode towards the tent I'd been sharing with Nissa. I would pack – tonight – and leave immediately.
Conal was standing a small distance from the tent, leaning against a tree. I lowered my head and walked past him determinedly, but in two strides, he had caught up, pulling me around to face him. “Charlotte, you need to listen to me.”
“No. I don't want to hear it.” Between Conal, Lucas and Nememiah, I'd worked up a full head of steam and was beyond reasoning with anyone.
Conal held my arm in a firm grip, pulling me into his embrace. “I don't care if you want to hear it or not. I love you, Charlotte! You asked me to make love to you, remember? I made love to you because I love you, it wasn't any sort of damn test to check if you were spying on us.” He dropped his mouth over mine and I struggled against the inevitability of my reaction. He traced his tongue across the seam of my lips and I couldn't stop the moan which escaped as I opened my mouth and allowed him access. Conal kissed me deeply before he released my lips and whispered in my ear. “I love you, Charlotte. I trust you with my life. But I had to do what was needed, to protect these people. I know you don't want to hear it, but I would do it again if I had to.”
“Let me go.” The words were spoken calmly, although my heart was beating like a hammer against my ribs. “I don't want to discuss this.”
“Charlotte, please. Don't push me away,” he begged quietly. “Please, Sugar.”
Biting my lip until my teeth punctured the tender flesh, I stared up into Conal's eyes, hurting over the decision I'd made. I needed to find my baby. I couldn't leave him in the Drâghici's hands and I wouldn't stay here, not when I was positive Conal didn't trust me, despite his arguments to the contrary. “I'm leaving,” I announced.
Conal glared at me, his black eyes flashing with anger. “What the hell do you mean; you're leaving?”
I turned away from him. “I'm going to rescue my baby.”
Conal grabbed me again, and I winced. “You are not doing this.”
“Let me go!” I shrieked. “He's my son, and I'm going to find him.”
“You don't even know how to get into the fucking Realm!” he shouted, his own anger exploding.
“I don't care. I'll find a way.”
“What about us, Charlotte? What about the people here, who need you?”
“You can sort out your own problems. I don't care.” With a hard yank, I pulled away from his grip. My mind seemed to be bathed in a red ha
ze, the fury and anger blazing like an out of control wildfire. “You blew it when you announced you had Ripley spying on me. You obviously don't trust me. I can accept that, but I'm not staying here with people who don't trust me and you can deal with your own fucking problems!”
“Baby? What's going on?” We both turned in the direction of Matt's voice and I watched him stride over to us from between a row of tents, Clint following behind. With a glance from Conal to myself, Matt spoke in a low tone. “I'm not sure what's going on with you two, but the middle of the camp isn't really a great place to have an argument.”
“I'm not arguing. I'm leaving.”
“What the hell?” Matt stared at me, rubbing his hand across the back of his neck.
Conal's features contorted with the strain of trying to keep his own anger in check. “Charlotte thinks we were wrong to have Ripley keeping an eye on her. She's being completely unreasonable, and insists she's heading into the Realm alone, to try and find the baby.”
Matt gritted his teeth together, glancing across at Clint before he spoke. “Baby, we only wanted to make sure—” He stopped abruptly, squeezing his eyes shut.
I couldn't believe it. My own father had broken my trust. “You knew about this?”
Matt's shoulders slumped, his eyes dull. “Try to see it from our point of view, baby. You turn up, after months spent with the enemy. They'd drugged you, and we didn't know what kind of mind games they'd played on you.”
“It was a precaution we had to take, Lottie,” Clint added.
“You were all in on this?” I demanded, glancing from Matt to Conal, to Clint and back to Conal again. “All of you? The Tines? Everyone?”
“It was a decision the council approved,” Conal admitted.
“Fabulous. In that case… you can all go to hell.”
Chapter 17: The Boss of Everything
Tumultuous emotions battered me as I shoved clothing into a backpack the following day. I'd taken hours to fall into an unsettled sleep after leaving the men, tossing restlessly until dawn appeared on the horizon. When I'd finally drifted off to sleep, I'd snoozed through until lunchtime, wasting half the day.
I was still furious over the lack of trust being shown by the people I trusted the most. I could see no point in staying, knowing they felt that way. And it would be better if they believed I hated them. I didn't want anyone coming after me. After my behavior, I was reasonably certain Conal would be disliking me right now. I certainly wasn't feeling particularly affectionate towards him.
Nissa sat on her bedroll, watching quietly as I threw clothing around the tent. The Elvin woman was dressed in her now-standard uniform of denim jeans and a t-shirt, having apparently decided it was far more comfortable than wearing Fae clothing. The color of her eyes was a startling contrast to the casual dress she'd adopted.
“What is this really about?” Nissa questioned gently, arms wrapped around her slender legs. She'd listened to me rant and rave for more than an hour, until my temper jag was spent and I mulishly began packing my belongings.
“I want my baby back.”
“We'll find a way to get him back, Angel. You need to be patient.”
“No, I don't,” I muttered. “Nememiah is telling me I have to make a choice. My baby or Lucas's soul. I want both, and clearly the only person who can fix this is me.”
“I thought you had a relationship with Conal?”
I turned to face Nissa, knowing she would see the distress in my eyes. “I did have a relationship with Conal. Which he totally screwed up, by not trusting me.”
“He has told you he does trust you,” Nissa responded evenly. “In his position, I would have done the same thing.”
I shrugged, shoving a t-shirt into the rucksack. “I'm tired of this, Nissa. I'm tired of being strong, I'm tired of being the leader, I'm tired of trying to be what everyone needs me to be.”
“You're going to abandon them to their fate?”
I came to a standstill and thought it over. “Yeah. I guess that's what I'm going to do. I'm going to find my baby and we're going into hiding somewhere.”
“You're frightened,” Nissa said. “I understand that.”
“No, you don't understand,” I muttered furiously. “Even if I get my baby back – what then? Do I have to battle the Drâghici and the Fae, knowing they could kill me and leave my son without his father and his mother?”
“It's a difficult decision,” Nissa conceded.
I stopped in my preparations to glare at her. “I know what you're doing. You're on their side. You think I should stay and fight.”
“Yes, I do. It is, after all, what you were destined to do as Nememiah's Child.”
I threw my hands in the air. “It's different for you, Nissa! You were born to be a warrior, it's— it's in your destiny! This was never my destiny. Even Nememiah says I wasn't supposed to be involved in this battle. This was never meant to happen!”
“But is has,” Nissa pointed out. “And these people – your friends – they need you.”
“My son needs me,” I protested.
Nissa uncrossed her legs and drew herself upright in a fluid motion. “Where do you intend to hide?” she questioned, coming to stand by my side.
I fingered the necklace Gabrielle had given me. “Anywhere I want to. With this pendant, Archangelo won't be able to find me.”
“Ben told me you suffer nightmares about what is happening. Do you truly believe you will be able to live with those nightmares? Know that your friends and family are being slaughtered, while you hide away with your baby?”
I gritted my teeth. “Yes.”
“I don't believe you.” Nissa caught hold of my arm, turning me to face her. “I will willingly take you into the Realm to find your baby, if that is what you propose to do. I will defend you during your search.” She lifted her head defiantly, her demeanor serious. “When you have your baby, I will return here, to fight with the others.”
“You won't stay with me?” I'd fully expected Nissa to swear herself to my protection when I took flight with my baby. To discover that wasn't her intention, that she would return to the group hiding here in the woods and fight with them was an unpleasant surprise.
“I swore my allegiance to these people. I will help them protect their freedom,” Nissa responded quietly. “Their war is a just one. They deserve the right to live in their own way, in their own homes, without constantly looking over their shoulders.”
“What about me?” I demanded angrily. “Don't I deserve a little peace and quiet with my son?”
Nissa smiled faintly, placing a comforting hand on my shoulder. “You deserve the love and respect these people hold for you. You deserve their trust and I understand your anger over what you consider a betrayal of that trust. But I've spent some time with them now. They may have doubted the prudence of having you amongst them again, but they've never doubted that you deserve their trust and they've never once given me a reason to believe they don't have your best interest at heart.”
I slumped down onto the bedroll, dropping my head into my hands. I'd been certain Nissa would stay with me, help protect my son. To discover she was abandoning me was a bitter pill to swallow.
The bedroll shifted beneath Nissa's weight when she sat beside me and draped an arm across my shoulders. “Angel, look at me.”
I raised my head, meeting her eyes. Nissa smiled warmly. “You are trying to cope with too much at once. Trying to do too much at once. You were released from the hospital only yesterday, after a horrendous withdrawal from what I understand to be a powerful concoction of drugs. Jerome says we are fortunate you survived, let alone managed to recover as well as you have.”
She leaned forward, squeezing my shoulder and I struggled to restrain another bout of tears. “I know how much you want your baby – we all understand. But you are trying to rush into decisions without giving them enough thought.”
“I don't know what to do,” I whispered. I'd thought leaving and finding my baby wa
s the best thing for both of us, but could I really leave these people to their fate? I knew they were facing annihilation – without the spirits support, they would be murdered by the Drâghici and Fae now that Zaen was gone. Nissa was right, no matter what decision I made, no matter how far I ran in a bid to escape, I couldn't outrun the nightmares, the knowledge of what would be happening to my friends and family. Could I live with that?
I tried to consider the situation from the opposite point of view – could I live without my baby being with me? How could I trust that he was safe, and protected? How could I fix everything, when I couldn't even regulate my own emotions? It seemed I was perpetually jumping from one mood to the next, unable to control my responses and reacting irrationally to just about everything.
“Let's begin again. We'll go and have some coffee at the mess, and talk this through.
I stared at Nissa. “Coffee?”
“Coffee,” she repeated firmly. “I've developed a liking for the brown fluid, and I understand from Conal that you enjoy it, too. That's what we're going to do. Drink coffee and work through this dilemma.” She drew me to my feet. “Perhaps we should also consider partaking of that food they tell me you like so much. Ice cream, I believe it is called?”
≈†◊◊†◊◊†◊◊†≈
We found a quiet corner in the mess and sat down. Nonny supplied us with a pot of coffee at Nissa's request, noticeably worried when she delivered it to the table. She remained silent though, only offering me an encouraging smile when I requested a tub of cheesecake brownie ice cream.
“This is delicious,” Nissa remarked, scooping a spoonful of the rich confection into her mouth. “You humans have some very strange customs and foods, but I could become quite attached to this delicacy.”
“It always seems to make me feel better,” I admitted, licking ice cream from the back of my spoon. It seemed decadent to be eating ice cream in the middle of the day, but the lunchtime crowd had eased off and we were almost alone in the huge tent.
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