I strode up to the altar, concentrating on the wall until the stone block shimmered. I plunged my hand into the stone, watching it vanish to leave the hollow space behind. I drew out the leather satchel and unrolled it, placing Archangelo's Katchet with my own. Tying the leather strap securely, I pushed it back into the cavity and brushed my hand across the opening to return the stone to its position.
When I turned back Lucas and the Tines were open-mouthed and it took me a second to realize why. I slipped into my chair and calmly drew the Hjördis from my pocket.
“How did you do that?” Acenith asked, looking bewildered.
“Epi taught me,” I said casually. “He can do it, and the angel blood lets me do it as well.” I held the Hjördis to my arm, marking more healing sigils. Epi was right, nothing was mending as it should. “I should probably warn you all, nobody can touch the weapons or the Hjördis.” I shared an ironic smile with Conal. “They have a pretty violent effect on anyone who doesn't have angel blood.”
“What sort of violent effect?” Holden queried, interest sparking in his blue eyes.
“Enough violence to blow me fifteen feet across the room,” Conal admitted, rubbing the back of his head at the recollection. “Not enjoyable, I can assure you.”
“What about humans?” William questioned, glancing at Katie who was busy drawing pictures by the fireplace, her face a picture of deep concentration.
“It wouldn't affect her because she's human, but we've been keeping her away from all the weapons and the Hjördis,” Conal confirmed.
“How much does she know?” Holden asked in a low voice and he went up in my estimations for the obvious concern he held for little Katie and her safety.
“Not a lot,” Nonny announced, dropping onto the chair beside Conal with a fresh cup of coffee, which she pushed across the table to me. “We've kept her insulated from as much as possible. She knows the Katchet and Philaris are weapons and the Hjördis draws 'pictures' on Charlotte and Conal's skin, but knows she can't have pictures on her skin.”
“Although I did catch her out, drawing sigils on her arm with a magic marker last week. Katie say she wants to be an angel like Charlotte,” Conal smirked at the memory.
William turned to Conal, sincerity shining in his eyes. “I want to thank you for keeping Katie safe. You've done us a great service, one which will not be forgotten.”
“You can thank Nick - he agreed to bring her down here. After the Drâghici took you, we weren't certain what else they had planned and it seemed smart to bring Katie here,” I said. “Epi has enchantments over the church and Conal's apartment, so she was safer here than anywhere else.”
Lucas raised an eyebrow. “Enchantments?”
I grinned, much more comfortable now my decision had been made. “This is weird, you know - it wasn't long ago you were explaining everything to me. Now the situation is reversed.”
“All you had to learn about was vampires,” Lucas retorted with a wry grin. “It seems we have a lot more to learn.”
I explained the intricacies of Epi's enchantments to them. “When he eventually got around to telling us about them, we asked Nick to bring Katie to Mississippi.”
“Epi has a remarkably bad habit of forgetting to pass on vital information,” Conal added with a touch of sarcasm. “The old bastard usually tells us what we need to know - about ten minutes after we needed to know it.” He pushed back from the table and stood up, cracking his knuckles ominously. “We're heading down to Natchez. I've got some pack business to deal with.”
“Does Quinn know we found out about him?” I asked quietly.
“Yeah.” Conal was abruptly business-like, his black eyes narrowing with anger. “Ralph's brother and Kenyon detained him when we headed to Sfantu Drâghici. We're going to ask him some questions and I'm going to use my own special talent to find out what's going on.” His expression softened when he leaned over to kiss my forehead. “I'll be back tonight, Sugar. Get some rest, I've got a feeling the old man's got something miserable planned for us in the next few days.”
“It's bound to involve smelling like dead stuff,” I agreed easily.
Phelan chuckled. “Everything Epi makes us do involves smelling like dead stuff.” He pressed a kiss against my cheek. “See you later, Lottie. Bye guys.” With a wave, they strode out and there was silence for a few seconds.
“Who are you, and what the hell did you do with the real Charlotte Duncan?” Striker demanded with a broad grin.
Chapter 9: Pick-me-Up
Epi returned a few minutes later, carrying a metal pitcher filled with steaming liquid. Jerome followed, watching my reaction with a mischievous gleam in his eyes. Epi dropped the pitcher onto the table in front of me and a tumbler shimmered into being beside it.
I peered in the top of the pitcher and wrinkled my nose in disgust. “What on earth is that?”
It smelled strongly of rotting garbage and when I poured a measure into the tumbler, it was a peculiar shade of brown. I picked up the tumbler, eyeing it with no small amount of apprehension. There was smoke wafting from the top of it, a fact which I found more than a little disturbing. “I thought you needed me, Epi? This crap looks like it's going to kill me!”
“Just drink it, and don't be such a baby,” Epi grumbled. “It's an ancient remedy, extremely effective. You'll improve swiftly.”
“Ancient's right,” I agreed, holding the glass at eye level to study it suspiciously. “It looks like primordial ooze.”
“I can assure you, Charlotte, it's harmless. I watched him make it,” Jerome struggled to keep his face neutral and his eyes twinkled with mirth.
“Better you than me, Lott.” Marco eyed the tumbler doubtfully. “Think I'd rather swallow demon blood.”
“You gag on demon blood, Marco. I've seen you.” Taking a small sip, I screwed up my face and swallowed it hastily. “Oh, GOD! What did I do to deserve this?”
Striker and Holden chuckled, clinking their bottles together. “Maybe cow blood isn't so bad after all.”
“Get on with it, Charlotte,” Epi ordered in a stern voice. “I want you to drink the whole pitcher. And try to refrain from using the Lord's name in vain. You are in church, child.”
“Remember how I told you I liked you?” I glared at Epi, my eyes frosty. “Guess what? I've changed my mind. Can I have something to eat to help get rid of the taste?”
“You've just eaten breakfast,” Epi sounded exasperated.
“I had two pancakes, that doesn't constitute a meal.”
Epi waved his hand and a plate of sandwiches appeared. “Now drink,” he demanded.
“Can I have a sandwich?” Marco asked, eyeing the plate eagerly.
“Get your own, Marco. Those are mine,” I warned.
“Oh, for goodness sake! Life was much more peaceful without a bunch of teenagers around here,” Epi spluttered. He waved his hand again and a larger platter of sandwiches appeared. The Lingard men were grouped together at one corner of the table and they launched a voracious attack on the food. “All they ever want to do is eat and sleep.”
Nick selected a sandwich. “I'm way beyond a teenager, Epi.”
“Not on my scale of age, young man,” Epi sniffed.
I lifted the tumbler and shuddered as I swallowed it down hurriedly. I drained the contents and dropped the tumbler onto the table, barely controlling the desire to spit the liquid back out again. Picking up a sandwich, I tossed it into my mouth to try and get rid of the taste, before snatching up another one and eating that, too. Ripley helpfully poured another tumbler full of the revolting liquid and I eyed it in disgust.
“I've changed my mind,” I announced. “I don't just not like you, I think I hate you.” I tossed back the second drink, screwing up my face as I struggled to swallow it.
“Love me, hate me, I don't care. Just drink the damn tonic,” Epi muttered. “I want you ready to train first thing tomorrow morning.”
I glanced up in surprise. “You mean I get today off? An
d now who's saying naughty words in a church?”
“You gave half your blood supply to your friends. It doesn't leave me with much of a choice, does it?” Epi sniffed. “And it's my church, I get to do as I damn well please.”
Striker was holding his fist against his mouth, trying in vain to suppress the laughter which was making his shoulders shake. “I really like the new Charlotte. And Epi's growing on me at a rapid rate.”
Ripley smiled, his eyes filled with admiration. “You certainly have plenty of spirit now, Charlotte.” He shared an affectionate smile with Acenith, holding her close against him.
“Oh, Lott's just chock full of spirits,” Marco teased. “Dozens of them.”
“You know what, Marco? Next demon we take on, I'm leaving you to finish off. Then you'll get a face full of demon blood and we'll see who's cracking jokes then.”
“Now you know that's impossible, Lottie,” Rafe responded.
“We really can't kill the demons?” Holden asked. He sounded disappointed and it reminded me again of how similar he and Striker were, both in looks and personality.
“Demons can be damaged by supernaturals, but they can't be killed. The weapons are the only thing which sends them back to the Otherworld. It's one of our current issues,” I responded. “I'm the only one who can do the job.” I picked up the tumbler, wondering if holding my nose would make this any better. As much as I didn't want to admit it, I felt better already. How that was possible when the liquid muck was so vile, I didn't know, but I figured it wasn't going to kill me.
“Surely that will be a huge issue?” Ben asked. “What happens if more than one demon is sent at a time as Epimetheus suggested?”
I shrugged with a nonchalance I wasn't feeling. “Guess I'll just have to fight harder. Epi's working on a solution.” I slugged back another glassful and filled the tumbler one last time, delighted to discover I'd reached the end of the pitcher. I ate another couple of sandwiches in preparation. “You might make a lousy tonic, Epi, but you are pretty good at magicking sandwiches.”
“I've told you before, young lady, 'magicking' is a ridiculous word and diminishes the magnitude of my abilities.”
I ignored him, grasping the tumbler and chugging down the last of the tonic, wiping my hand across my mouth when I'd finished.
Everyone burst into a round of spontaneous applause and I smiled, mimicking a little bow as I stood up. “I'm going to brush my teeth,” I stated, heading towards the bathroom. “Before they rot and fall out.”
≈†◊◊†◊◊†◊◊†≈
When I returned to the main room, it was to discover the men had gone missing. Acenith waved me over to where she was settled beside Marianne, with Nonny and Rowena. Gwynn was sitting up and she smiled weakly as I approached.
“Where is everyone?” I knew they couldn't leave the church, but for the life of me I couldn't figure out where they'd all gone. While the church had undergone some rapid transformation and expansion, it wasn't that big.
“Lucas suggested you might like some girl time and we agreed it was a wonderful idea,” Acenith said. She was wearing a pretty floral skirt and a white t-shirt, her hair braided and laying across her shoulder. Her skin was almost flawless again, with only the tiniest trace of scarring on her cheek. Her emerald green eyes were bright, shimmering with bronze when she smiled.
Nonny grinned happily. “You have lovely friends, mi pequeño ángel.” She was sitting cross-legged on an armchair between the two beds, her flowing skirt pooling around her legs. “Are you hungry?”
Shaking my head, I stood at the base of Gwynn's bed. “Between the pancakes and Epi's sandwiches, I probably don't need to eat until dinner time.”
“But you will eat before then,” Nonny chuckled. “You will be hungry again, long before dinner.”
Gwynn patted the bed and offered me a wan smile. “Would you like to sit down?”
“Sure.” I settled beside her and studied her face discreetly. She looked better, but still so very pale. “How are you feeling?”
Gwynn shrugged, a shadow passing across her features. “Improving.” Seeing doubt in my eyes, she captured my fingers and squeezed. “Truly, I'm much better. It will take a little time.”
“Where are the men?” I questioned again.
“Rafe and Marco are outside, playing with Katie. I believe they mentioned a game of ball. Everyone else is discussing the current situation in some room through there.” Rowena motioned towards the back of the altar and I smirked. Epi seemed to keep magicking new areas as he needed them.
“They haven't had enough information already?” It seemed like all we'd done for the past two days was share intelligence.
“Lucas is reporting what we know about the Drâghici,” Marianne explained. She pulled at the sleeve of her hospital gown, the small action telling. Marianne never fidgeted, hadn't show nerves or anxiety in all the time I'd known her. None of the vampires did. Yet here she was, fidgeting with her clothing anxiously.
“That will be helpful,” I responded. “We didn't have a lot of information to go on.”
“Enough of this,” Nonny announced abruptly, her tone brooking no argument. “There has been enough sorrow in the past few days. Let us talk of happier things. Such as… how you lucky ladies managed to catch such handsome men.”
Rowena chuckled. “In my case, I was pursued by my very handsome man, over a period of many years.”
“And what about you, Gwynn? William is, how do you young people say? Hot?”
Gwynn giggled and then she put her hand to her mouth, stifling the happy sound. I wondered how she was going to react, but she surprised me. “Nonny, I'm as old as you are.”
“Ah, but you're travelling much better, little one. You look, not a day over twenty one.”
“Which is a relief, given that I was twenty one when I was created,” Gwynn said agreeably. “If I looked older, there's something wrong.”
Nonny hooted with delight. “So how did you meet William? Was it terribly romantic?”
Gwynn smiled tenderly, brushing her fingers though her hair as she contemplated her answer. “We met in Budapest, in 1999. William was backpacking around Europe, I was visiting my friend Eugene who had moved there perhaps a decade earlier. Eugene introduced us, assured me that William was a lost soul in need of a friend.” She smiled shyly, glancing up from beneath lowered lashes. “He was very handsome and so shy, he could hardly speak when we first met.”
“How did you draw him out of his shell?” Nonny asked. She was leaning forward, listening to Gwynn's tale with interest.
“I took him to the museums,” Gwynn smiled. “William has a love of history and Budapest has many beautiful museums.”
“I remember visiting the National Museum in 1965,” Marianne said. “They have some magnificent exhibits. Did you visit the Museum of Fine Arts?”
“I took William to every museum in Budapest,” Gwynn laughed. “I think I wore him down with culture! You would love to visit Budapest, Charlotte, so many magnificent paintings - Ruben's Mucius Scaevola Before Porsenna, works by Titian, Gentile Bellini. It's a wonderful museum for an artist.”
I smiled wistfully. “Perhaps one day.”
“William was a perfect gentleman, every morning he met me at my hotel and we'd visit a new museum. He was incredibly polite, but kept himself aloof. Every attempt I made to draw him out of his shell was gently rebuked,” Gwynn continued. She smiled, her pretty face glowing with a happiness which had been missing in the past few days.
“He's always been reticent,” Rowena agreed.
“What did you do?” I asked. They obviously adored one another and I was curious to learn how she'd broken through William's barriers.
Gwynn looked sheepish. “I knew from spending so much time with William, he had deeply entrenched issues regarding being vampire. He truly believed his wife and child died because of his creation and blamed himself.” She glanced at me, raising an eyebrow. “Did you know about that?”
&nb
sp; I nodded. “Lucas told me, when he explained Katie's presence in Puckhaber.”
Gwynn seemed taken aback. “You haven't spoken to William's ancestors?”
I shook my head and a smile curved my lips. “Not about William. He was so adamant about not having contact with them, I've avoided the subject.”
“You are a good girl, mi ángel,” Nonny announced, nodding in approval. She returned her attention to Gwynn, coaxing her to continue.
Gwynn smiled agreeably. “I saw William on my last night in Budapest, we were both invited to Eugene's for a party. I admitted I'd developed feelings for him, and asked him to return with me to America, but he refused. He was polite, but determined, insisting he couldn't be involved with someone else after the loss of his wife and son. He told me he wasn't sure he could love anyone again.”
“What did you say?”
Gwynn chuckled. “I told him he was being an ass and if he wanted to remain alone for all eternity, that was completely up to him.”
“What did he do?” Nonny clasped her hands together, enthralled with the story.
“Nothing. He watched me walk away. I was madly in love with him and thought I'd lost my chance. I returned to the hotel, collected my luggage and took a cab to the airport, refusing to stay another minute. After all, he'd never so much as kissed me. I'd made such a fool of myself.”
“Not even once?” I asked.
Gwynn shook her head, waves of glossy copper hair falling across her shoulder. “Not a kiss, a hug; we'd barely touched hands.”
“He let you leave? He didn't try and stop you?” I persisted.
“No. He watched me walk out the door, with that strong, emotionless expression he does so very well. I honestly believed I'd misread his attentions and he wasn't interested in anything but a brief holiday friendship.”
“So what happened?” Nonny pressed impatiently.
Knowledge Hurts (The Nememiah Chronicles Book 3) Page 8