Knowledge Hurts (The Nememiah Chronicles Book 3)

by D. S. Williams

  “Ripley, help! Help me!” I shrieked when Archangelo gripped me firmly against his body. I wriggled and squirmed ineffectively in his arms, but I had no strength to draw on in the water and any energy I'd had was long gone. Archangelo grasped me firmly with one arm across my chest and swam towards shore.

  Reaching the shoreline, he carried me bodily from the water, holding me across his shoulder like a sack of grain. I pummeled against his back, screaming at the top of my lungs until he caught me around the waist and dropped me down to the ground. I scrambled away, attempting to run but it was a futile effort, his strength and speed completely impossible to battle. “Let me go! Let me go!”

  He gripped my throat, his green eyes ablaze. “You are mine! You should be mine. You are not that other vampire's!”

  The pressure of his hand against my throat was brutal, with one small movement he would snap my neck like a twig. I ceased struggling, accepting it was useless and instead stared at him defiantly. He was a good five inches taller than me and frighteningly powerful. “What do you want,” I gasped, my voice barely a whisper with the pressure on my neck.

  He looked confused for a moment. “You. I want you,” he responded simply. He had a trace of an accent, possibly French, but his English was impeccable. “I have always wanted you, Charlotte. The Drâghici promised you to me.” His grip against my throat relaxed incrementally and I struggled not to flinch under his obsessive stare.

  “I wasn't theirs to give you,” I stated coldly. I realized at once the words had been a mistake, as anger flared anew in his face.

  “It was my destiny to have you! We're meant to be together, you and I. You should be my wife!” he spat venomously. “And yet, in my sleep, I saw you with that vampire! Allowing him to make love to you, when you are mine!”

  Eyeing him warily, the pressure against my neck increased as his temper blazed. Archangelo had obviously taken the sleeping potion earlier than expected and he'd had a vision when Lucas and I had been together last night. “Do the Drâghici know you're here?” It seemed pertinent to try and keep him talking, in the hope that help would arrive. I was still broadcasting to Ripley, praying he would hear me and I needed to buy any time I could.

  “No, those idiots know nothing,” he spat derisively. He raised his hand, brushing his fingers across my cheek and I shuddered under the touch. “They don't comprehend that I have all the power. I control everything. Even Bran doesn't realize the true power of my abilities.” As he spoke, he edged closer, his eyes focused on my lips.

  Despite my scattered thoughts and the panic which was rising steadily, a question occurred to me. “How did you know where to find me?” He'd admitted to being placed into the artificial sleep last night, how could he know I'd be at the lake now?

  The subject threw him for a moment and he stopped moving, staring down at me with wide eyes. “I stole some of the sleep potion. If I swallow only a sip, I can sleep for a minute or two. I like to watch you,” he explained with a trace of embarrassment in his voice. For a second, he sounded almost human, displaying emotions which related more to humans than vampires.

  Taking a risk, I pleaded to the shred of humanity I thought I'd seen. “What you're doing, Archangelo - it's wrong. Innocent people are getting hurt.”

  He laughed, the sound without a trace of real humor, hollow and loud in the quiet meadow and my error was revealed. “Innocent people. You and I, we are the only innocents. The werewolves, shape shifters, the Fey - they're nothing.” He leaned closer again, running a fingertip across my shoulder and down towards my breast. “You and I - we are the rulers of this world.” He watched me silently for a moment, sadness in his expression. “We should have been together. You should have been mine. If you'd allowed me to transform you in Sfantu Drâghici, we could have ruled together over all the supernatural, including those morons in the Drâghici Kiss.” His eyes hardened. “But you gave yourself willingly to another man and betrayed me. And now that you're twenty one, I can no longer transform you.”

  My mind was racing, trying to get a handle on what he was planning and desperately searching for an escape. I flickered my attention towards my weapons belt, lying perhaps ten feet away from where we stood.

  Archangelo chuckled. “You won't get to the weapons. Remember you attempted killing me once and failed. Why waste your efforts? I'm immortal, nothing and no-one can kill me.” He released my neck, yanking me hard against the line of his body and meshed his lips to mine. He forced his tongue into my mouth and his hard arousal pressed against my belly. Using every ounce of energy, I thrust my hands against him and shoved. He stumbled away and I spat at his face in temper.

  Archangelo raised his hand, slapping my cheek brutally before I had a chance to run. The force of the blow hurled me into the air and I landed heavily. Curling up in the dirt, I clutched my hand to my face and whimpered.

  “I love you, and you treat me like shit!” he snarled, dropping to his knees beside me. He gripped my jaw between his fingers, squeezing harshly. He stared into my eyes, his own filled with wrath. “I came here to bring you back to Sfantu Drâghici, to persuade you we're meant to be together. And what do you do? You take my love and throw it back at me!”

  He lifted his head abruptly, arching his neck to sniff the air and cursed in a language I didn't know. He gripped my neck and pulled a Hjördis from his pocket. “They're coming for you,” he muttered angrily.

  It was a struggle to concentrate, the force of his blow had done some serious damage to my cheekbone and sharp pain was lancing the area. “I don't love you, Archangelo,” I muttered. “Let me go, please.”

  “No! If I can't have you, Charlotte, nobody will have you,” he bellowed. He marked sigils on the soil and I couldn't comprehend them. In the distance, I could hear approaching growls and shouts, the sounds of people racing towards us. I turned my head, ignoring the excruciating pain in my cheek and tried to see past Archangelo. As he created the sigils, his grip on my neck tightened and I struggled to inhale air, gasping and coughing. In the distance I recognized Lucas approaching with supernatural speed, the Tines close behind. Harley Fitzgerald and his friends, Thut and the three woman from his Kiss were also approaching at a remarkable speed. Behind them, werewolves and shape shifters followed, barking, roaring and howling as they drew closer.

  Archangelo finished the sigils and watched in grim satisfaction as a circular barrier appeared, sheer white light encircling us like a mesh fence. He released my neck without warning, hauling himself to his feet and watching Lucas come into view on the other side of the barrier.

  “Let her go!” Lucas demanded grimly, his eyes flashing silver and his fangs out. His entire body was tensed like a spring and he eyed the barrier surrounding us before he touched it.

  The effect was instantaneous, energy from the barrier hurled him backwards in a similar effect to what had happened to Nick and Conal when they touched Zaen's walls. I screamed as he slammed heavily to the ground, nearly thirty feet away. Archangelo merely laughed, watching Lucas pull himself to his feet and return to the barrier. Lucas's hand was blackened and blistered where he'd touched Archangelo's barrier and I could have sworn I could smell burning flesh.

  “Idiots!” Archangelo declared, watching my friends circling the barrier. “You cannot pass my shield, it's impenetrable! The Consiliului are right about one thing - you all deserve to die.” He paced along the barrier, jeering at the crowd outside. “You stand there like imbeciles, unable to stop me. All to save this miserable, pathetic scrap of humanity.” He glanced towards me, changing his direction to stand beside my body. With no forewarning, he kicked out, the fierce blow slamming my ribs. I screamed and the vampires, werewolves and shifters roared their fury. Archangelo laughed, surveying the crowd around the cage. “You all want to save this fucking bitch, yet none of you can reach her. How pathetic you are!”

  My vision was blurring but I saw Striker and Holden working together at one side of the barrier. Striker held his hands together and Holden
launched towards him, stepping into Striker's clasped hands. With a massive show of strength, Striker lifted his brother high into the air and Holden flew towards the top the barrier. For long, hopeful seconds, I watched and thought he was going to make it, would get inside the barrier and help me. Those hopes were dashed as Holden reached the top of the barrier and it reacted, lengthening until it hit him in the chest with the full force of energy. Similarly to Lucas, he was thrown backwards and slumped to the ground.

  Archangelo watched and laughed, before striding across to Lucas, standing only inches apart from him. “You,” Archangelo said. “I should kill you for what you did. It's because of you that she doesn't love me!”

  “She was never going to love you!” Lucas snarled.

  “She would have, if you hadn't got in the way! She would have done if you and these pathetic beings hadn't tainted her, convinced her you were worth saving. You're all idiots! You can't win this war! I will win this war!” He turned away from Lucas, his attention drawn back to me as I lay helplessly on the dirt. I coughed spasmodically and the coppery taste of blood filled my mouth.

  Conal ran along the edge of the barrier, howling despondently. He ran a few steps away from the barrier then turned and pelted at full speed towards it. Hitting the shining white light, he was launched through the air, yelping piteously as he crashed in a crumpled heap on the grass and the scent of burning flesh and fur wafted across me. My eyes blurred with tears and I curled into a ball, aware of the blood pooling in my mouth and terrified Archangelo would smell it.

  Archangelo tipped his head back, sniffing the air in delight. “Mmmm, blood. Delicious.” He turned his attention to Lucas who appeared homicidal in his intensity, pacing back and forth beside the barrier. His arm hung limply at his side, the skin blackened hideously. “How have you screwed her and not wanted to taste her? You're pathetic, vampire! You should have devoured her, created her to our kind while you had the chance. Or at least, your kind,” he sneered. “I certainly don't consider myself as worthless as you so obviously are. I could kill you with my bare hands.”

  “Bring it on,” Lucas demanded. “Let her go and kill me, if that's what you want. I'll gladly die for her.”

  “Oh, how noble. You would die for her,” Archangelo sneered. “That's too easy, vampire.” He leaned closer to the barrier, his fangs bared. “No. You took her away from me and now I'm going to take her away from you.”

  He dropped onto one knee beside me, yanking my head to one side. “You can watch me achieve what you were too weak to do. If I'd had the option, I would have created her, compelled myself to only taste her sweet blood. But now I'm left with only one alternative.” He glared at Lucas, hatred visible in every aspect of his countenance. “I'll savor her blood and drain her of every last drop. And you, vampire, get to watch as I do it.”

  With a spine-chilling growl he lowered his head and his teeth - not just his fangs - tore into the skin on my neck. I screamed, the sound echoing as Archangelo bit deeply, the pain unendurable.

  The pressure on my neck eased and with pain-filled eyes I saw Archangelo straighten, his lips and chin drenched in blood. My blood. I could hear the outcry from all around us, the baying from the other side of the barrier and the sound of bodies repeatedly slamming into Archangelo's shield. “Scrumptious,” Archangelo gloated. “Heavenly, in fact. You don't know what you've missed out on, vampire.” He dropped his head again, ripping at my neck and the dizziness became overwhelming. I squeezed my eyes shut, unable to concentrate on anything except the indescribable torture of Archangelo sucking vigorously at my neck.

  Dizziness was engulfing me but I had to do something, had to think of a way to stop him before he killed me. Drawing on every last scrap of strength I could muster, I raised one hand and pitched a spirit orb. It was feeble, far weaker than usual, but enough to thrust him away and he fell. He shouted his anger, his face drenched in blood. It dripped onto his shirt, the crimson stains providing stark contrast to the white fabric. Warm blood pumped from my neck and I was going to lose consciousness before long. I hurled a second orb at him, in the exact instant he threw one aimed at me.

  The forced of Archangelo's orb thrust me across the ground, plowing my body into the dirt. I groaned feebly, agony washing over every inch of my body.

  I'd retreated into a pain-filled haze when I heard Epi. He was chanting repetitively, his voice strong and loud, intoning words in a language I didn't comprehend. It didn't matter anymore, my life was pumping away by the second. Blood flowed from my shredded neck, soaking my clothes and pooling on the dirt beside me. I knew nothing and nobody could help me now.

  Over the sound of Epi's chanting, I heard a shout and blurred movement caught my attention. A flash of golden light appeared and I wondered vaguely if this was the gateway to death. My life was ending and there was nothing I could do to prevent the inevitable.

  Chapter 31: Aftermath

  Strange fragments of conversation reached my mind through the darkness.

  “Where did he go?”

  “Should we go after him?”

  “Charlotte! Charlotte? Look at me!”

  “Nick, press your hands against the wound, she's bleeding out.”

  “Sugar! Don't you die on me, Charlotte!”

  “Jerome, you've got to save her. I'm begging you…”

  “Rowena, give me that jacket, press it against the wound.”

  “We have to get her to Zaen.”

  “Christ, I can't stop the blood! Jerome, what should we do?”

  “I can portal her directly into the city, it's the fastest way.”

  “The vampires can help. Use the Hjördis.”

  “Lottie, if you die, I'm gonna kick your ass, I swear to God.”

  “Doc, you've got to do something. You have to save her.”

  “She'll need blood. I'll need to run tests, see who's compatible.”

  “Move back! Give us some room!”

  “That bastard, I'm going to kill him.”

  “Pick her up, Conal. Lucas, keep pressure on that wound.”

  “Jerome! She's stopped breathing…”

  Strangely enough, I had the distinct impression I was breathing. Which couldn't be possible. I was meant to be dead, I should be dead. Once again, I was absolutely crippled with pain, a sure sign from past history that I wasn't dead. My eyelids were heavy and despite every effort, I couldn't compel them to open. I retreated back into the darkness.

  When I glided into consciousness again, the cool pressure of a hand holding mine caught my fractured attention. Lucas.

  His aroma was tantalizingly close and this time opening my eyes was a success. I blinked cautiously, adjusting to the room's brightness before I turned my head at a snail's pace, every movement excruciating. Lucas was beside me, his head bowed. Incredible effort was required to squeeze his fingers and he glanced up, surprise registering in his eyes.

  “Charlotte, my love, thank God.” He stood up, kissing my forehead tenderly before he called Jerome's name.

  I blinked owlishly and swallowed with difficulty. My neck throbbed, my cheek was painful and my ribs burned. I wished I was dead.

  Jerome appeared, brushing his fingers across my forehead. “Charlotte, are you in pain?”

  I swallowed again and managed an incremental nod, my head pounding with the movement.

  “I'll get you some morphine.” His footsteps moved away from the bed, limping slowly from the room.

  Lucas's cool fingers brushed my cheek, the touch whisper-like on my skin. “I love you.” It was the last thing I heard as I drifted back to blessed oblivion.

  “Are you sure she's going to be okay?” A voice I didn't recognize, male and gravelly.

  “Now she's received the blood transfusion, she will be fine. Thank you again for your assistance. This must be very… difficult for you to come to terms with.” Ben's voice, sounding much calmer than when I'd last heard him.

  “I've read about this sort of stuff. Never believed in it.” Th
e strange man spoke again. I couldn't place him, didn't have a clue what this conversation was about. “Wouldn't have believed it now, if it wasn't for you showing me the evidence.”

  “We understood her psychic abilities came from her maternal grandmother,” Epi was somewhere in the room. “Her grandmother had some psychic aptitude?”

  “Never something we spoke about much,” the stranger answered. “Her mother and I were only married for a couple of years, I didn't spend a lot of time with her folks.”

  “What will you do now? Will you stay here in Zaen? She's been through so much, I believe she would benefit from your support. It would certainly be safer for you, unless you intend to leave before she recovers,” Lucas said, his voice low. “The vampires we spoke to you about - the Drâghici - once Charlotte's aware you're in Zaen it will be difficult to keep your existence from them. They will pick up knowledge of you from Charlotte's thoughts and actions.”

  There was a long silence, in which I assumed the man was thinking over Lucas's advice. “I've missed nineteen years of her life, I don't want to abandon her now. You say my wife and son - they're safe here inside this city?”

  “As safe as any of us can be,” Conal answered, his voice deep and husky.

  The stranger inhaled heavily. “Look, while I appreciate how much you seem to… care about her, I intend to take Charlotte away from here. I want to take her home with me. Seems to me she's stuck in a situation which isn't really her problem.”

  There was a sudden burst of awareness in my mind, tinged with substantial amounts of disbelief. I knew who this was. I wondered if this was a bizarre, post-traumatic stress induced hallucination, although the voices certainly sounded real and not a figment of my imagination. “Dad?” The word sounded strange as I voiced it hoarsely, it was a word I was not familiar with using. I'd never had much reason to say it in the past.