Knowledge Hurts (The Nememiah Chronicles Book 3)

by D. S. Williams

  “Charlotte?”

  I forced my eyelids to rise and scanned the room. It was darker now, but soft light filtered into the room from an open doorway. Lucas sat beside me, my hand clasped in his and Ben stood at his shoulder. I swallowed, discovering the pain in my throat wasn't as severe as it had been. Epi stood at the foot of the bed, anxiously gripping the bed rail.

  He was standing next to Conal. A strange man, yet familiar in so many ways. His hair was the same color as mine, chocolate brown with a prominent wave and neatly trimmed. He was smooth faced - standing erect at the side of the bed, his bearing suggestive of a man with a military background. His russet hued eyes filled with compassion as he gazed down at me and tears welled against dark eyelashes. “Charlotte,” he repeated again and Conal stepped back to allow him to reach me. “It's me, your Dad.”

  “Dad,” I repeated quietly. “Matt?” During our email exchanges we'd discussed that I might find it strange to call him Dad when I barely knew him - now I was truly confused regarding what to call him.

  “Whatever you want to call me, baby. Matt's fine for now.”

  It felt comfortable to use his first name. Dad seemed entirely too personal for someone I didn't really know. With a frown, I studied his face, still trying to come to terms with his appearance. “What…” I cleared my throat, trying to get rid of the hoarseness. “What are you doing here?”

  He smiled, exchanging a glance with Lucas before he looked back at me. “These… people found me, told me you needed my help.” He reached for my hand, clasping it hesitantly in his own. His hand was warm and smooth, with hard calluses on the palm - a working man's hand. “They explained you'd lost a lot of blood and apparently,” he smiled again, “my blood and yours are the same.”

  I closed my eyes, struggling to comprehend what he was saying. “I don't understand.”

  “Charlotte, you lost an enormous amount of blood, far more than you could possibly survive,” Lucas explained. “We attempted to match your blood with every single adult in the city and couldn't find an equivalent. Conal proposed we contact your father, see if he could help as he's your only living relative.” Lucas rubbed his cool hand over mine. “It was a long shot, but it was successful. Your father agreed to come to Zaen and provide you with the blood you so desperately needed.”

  Ben offered me a glass of water, holding the straw near my mouth so I could take careful sips. I drank a little, licking my dry lips as I struggled to grasp what was happening. Looking up at my father, I spoke cautiously. “You… you've got angel blood?”

  His eyes were somber when he shrugged. “Apparently. Your Doctor Harding, he can explain it better than I will.”

  As if he'd overheard his name being mentioned, Jerome appeared in the doorway and stepped inside, leaning over to brush a quick kiss against my forehead. “What is your Doctor Harding explaining?” He patted my shoulder gently. “You look like crap, by the way.”

  Ben stifled a smile. “We were discussing the relationship between Charlotte's blood and her fathers. Charlotte wondered if his blood and hers were the same.”

  Jerome raised his eyebrows. “We tested your blood when we got you back into Zaen. Essentially it's almost precisely AB Negative, except for a tiny marker which is almost impossible to detect if you weren't specifically searching for it.”

  “Why couldn't I have someone else's blood?” I asked. “Wouldn't that have worked?”

  Jerome smirked. “It would have, if we'd have anyone with AB Negative blood in the city. It's not as common as other blood types. When we tested your father, his blood was a perfect match, including the marker.”

  “The marker? That's what distinguishes my blood as being different?” I asked huskily.

  “Yes. But knowing what we do now, we can have a supply of AB Negative on hand. Although,” Jerome added gruffly, “I'm hoping we won't have a repeat of this situation. There's only so many times I can bring you back from the brink, Lottie.”

  I inclined my head towards Matt. “Can he use the weapons? The Hjördis?”

  “No, apparently that is still unique to you, my love,” Lucas responded. “Your father can hold the weapons, but the Hjördis doesn't operate.”

  “Archangelo? What happened?”

  Lucas squeezed my fingers. “He got away. Portalled out, presumably went back to Sfantu Drâghici. We've heard nothing else from him.”

  Squeezing my eyes shut, I recalled the agony of Archangelo biting my throat. “Why did he give up before he killed me?”

  “Epi managed to dismantle the barrier he'd created and we're guessing when you threw those orbs at him, he figured you weren't giving up without a fight,” Conal responded, his eyes filled with pride. “Nice going, Sugar.”

  I managed a feeble smile. “I nearly did give up,” I admitted quietly.

  “But you didn't,” Lucas asserted softly. “You managed to get a message through to Ripley, despite his difficulties with the loss of his ability, he heard you, Charlotte. I only wish we'd gotten there sooner.”

  “I wish you did, too,” I admitted quietly.

  “Guess Archangelo makes it to number one on our list of priorities, Sugar,” Conal added. “Seems he'd a couple of fries short of a Happy Meal.”

  “Which is all the more reason for Charlotte to leave with me and I'll keep her somewhere safe,” Matt announced determinedly. He reached out, tentatively brushing my hair back from my forehead. “Charlotte. This isn't your war. These aren't your people.”

  Chapter 32: Home Truths

  For a couple of seconds I was speechless, frowning at my father. My attention was diverted by a commotion from the hallway before I could respond. Marianne and William, Ripley and Acenith, Rowena, Gwynn, Striker and Holden strolled through the door, laughing and joyful.

  “Ripley told us you were awake,” Marianne announced, squeezing past Lucas with a delighted grin to kiss my forehead.

  “About time too, Lott. Nobody can defeat the demons while you're out of action,” Striker teased.

  Gwynn kissed my cheek, looking anxious. “Are you feeling better?”

  “A little,” I agreed.

  Rowena leaned over to hug me, but hesitated, a worried frown creasing her forehead. “I don't know how to hug you when you're so badly hurt,” she admitted.

  “Try anyway. Please?” I needed the comfort desperately, and hadn't realized how desperately until Rowena's appearance. Whether it was the sudden appearance of my father, Archangelo's attack - I didn't know, but I wanted Rowena's comfort.

  She hugged me awkwardly, movements exceedingly gentle. Over her shoulder, I caught the expression on Matt's face and struggled to comprehend what he was thinking. He looked… repulsed? Or possibly disgusted? Perhaps I was misreading his reaction, I barely knew him and couldn't even begin to suggest that I could read his thoughts from a facial expression.

  “Charlotte… baby,” Matt said, squeezing my arm lightly when Rowena released me. “I think you should come back to San Diego with Misaki and me. You don't belong with these people.”

  Staring at him, I drew my arm away from his touch, eyeing him coldly. “Don't call me baby, Matt. I'm not your baby. That was nineteen years ago when you ditched out on me and Mom.”

  “Charlotte,” he began again, trying to take my hand in his. “I told you I was sorry about that. But these people - they've, well, they've brainwashed you. They aren't your family. They aren't even people, for Christ's sake! They're making you fight a war that involves their kind - not yours.” His voice rose a little, his brown eyes penetrating as he gazed at me.

  “Matt, Charlotte is still extremely unwell, this isn't the best time for this discussion,” Jerome said firmly.

  My father raised his hand, cautioning Jerome to stop. “No offence, Doctor Harding, but this is important. My little girl is fighting your war, for your people and nearly getting herself killed in the process. I think this is exactly the right time for this discussion. She needs to get out of this, before she gets herself killed.
”

  I struggled to sit up, pain blazing through my upper body. “Your little girl,” I repeated, my eyebrows raised in disbelief. “I was your little girl nineteen years ago. I haven't been your little girl for a very long time. You want me to come and play happy families with you and your new wife and kid?” Shaking my head, I stared at Matt angrily. “Sorry. You've left it about nineteen years too late.”

  “Baby,” he began, then saw my scowl and rephrased hastily. “Charlotte, you don't belong here. You belong with me and your family. We want to support you and look after you.”

  I gripped Lucas's hand firmly, conscious of the compassion in his dark blue eyes. “You want to be there to support me? That's pretty self-righteous after you vanished out of my life,” I announced incredulously. “Where were you, Matt? Where were you when I was starting my first day at preschool? Where were you when it was career day and every other father turned up to tell the kids about their jobs? Where were you when the other kids were teasing me because I didn't have a father?” Tears stung my eyes and I brushed them away impatiently. “Where were you when I fell off my bike in fourth grade and broke my wrist? What about when I got accepted to Art School and couldn't go because we couldn't afford it? Where were you when I was wearing second hand clothes and worn out shoes?”

  “Charlotte, I told you I was so very sorry…”

  I shook my head firmly. “Sorry doesn't cut it, Dad. You missed out on every important event which happened in nineteen years. My senior prom, my first crush on a boy, graduation from high school. Learning to drive. Nineteen birthdays, nineteen Christmases.” I was aware of the sympathetic looks from those around me and my father's face was ashen. “Where were you when Mom met that bastard she married? Where were you when I needed someone, anyone who could give me advice when Pete was beating the crap out of her night after night after night!” I gasped down a breath, feeling the all-too familiar shattering pain in my ribs. “And where were you - when I found them dead in the house? What were you doing when I was being accused of murder?”

  “I didn't know, Charlotte! I swear to God, I didn't know!” he cried, his face filled with anguish.

  For a long time I watched him, my own face ravaged with tears. “No, you didn't know. You didn't know how I felt, the nightmares I endured. You didn't stand in the rain, watching four coffins being lowered into the ground. Do you have any idea how small the coffin needs to be for a four month old baby?” I shook my head dejectedly, overwhelmed with a disappointment and pain I didn't know I'd held. “You wouldn't know. You couldn't know because you weren't there.” I looked around the stricken faces surrounding me and took a steadying breath before I could continue. “You weren't there when I was trying to figure out how to pay for their funerals. You weren't there when I left my home for the last time. You weren't there when I had nowhere to go, no money, nothing! You weren't with me when I was scratching out an existence, eating canned beans seven nights a week because I had to choose between a roof over my head and having something to eat!”

  “Charlotte, I want to make it up to you. Baby, please?” he begged huskily.

  “Don't… call… me… Baby!” I gritted my teeth, pain shooting through my cheek. Shutting my eyes, the bitterness which had built up over nineteen years overwhelmed me. “My name is Charlotte and I am Nememiah's Child. For better or worse - that's who I am. You can't make up for what I lost when you walked out. You can't walk in here and declare you're taking me away with you. I'm not a child, I'm an adult - and I'll make my own decisions.”

  I glanced around, at the people I regarded as family. “These people, Matt - these people are my family. They love me and nurture and support me. Ben and Rowena treat me like a daughter. Lucas loves me unconditionally, no matter how badly I screw up sometimes. Conal is my best friend in the whole world.” I met Marianne's eyes and she smiled sympathetically. “They've fed and clothed me and supported me every step of the way. That's what family does, they don't run away from trouble. They don't run out when things are tough.”

  My father stood indecisively, his distress written on his face. “Charlotte. Please. You could get killed. I don't want to lose you, not when I've just found you again.”

  I chewed on my lip, attempting to compose myself before I answered. “Yeah,” I said at last. “You're right, I could get killed. But if I die, I'll know it's because I chose my path and stuck to it, because I've accepted the truth of what I am and why I'm here.” I wanted to reach out to him, touch his arm, but I couldn't bring myself to do it. I didn't know this man… not really. I wasn't sure I could console him, nor even if I wanted to at this stage. “Maybe one day, you'll be able to accept the truth of what I am. I really do hope so. You see werewolves, vampires, shape shifters - things you obviously don't understand and can't comprehend. And you look at me and see a human. That's not what I am, Matt. In many ways, I find I belong in this world more than I ever did in yours.” Glancing towards Epi, I squeezed Lucas's hand, drawing strength from him. “Epi, take him back to wherever he's staying.”

  “I'm not leaving,” Matt protested. “I want to stay with you, Charlotte.”

  “Matt, I need you to go,” I insisted tiredly. “For now, at least. Talk to your wife, think it over. If you can accept me for who I am and what I'm here to do, I could use your support. But if you can't; well, you need to go back home to San Diego.”

  Epi put his hand at the small of Matt's back, intent on steering him away from the bed. For a couple of seconds, Matt resisted, gazing down at me, his face contorted with strain. Then he sighed, leaning over to kiss my forehead. “I want to make it up to you, Charlotte. I have to make this right,” he announced fervently.

  The breath I inhaled was painful. “You already have, Matt. I touched your hand, and even now, I can hear your parents, your grandparents. And you saved my life. It's enough, for now.”

  He touched my cheek with the palm of his hand, holding it against me for a long moment, before allowing himself to be led from the room.

  Chapter 33: Discovery

  The silence was like a heavy weight after Matt and Epi left, the only sound breaking up the quiet was the soft murmur of voices in my head. My adopted family encircled me, providing an unspoken empathy.

  Lucas spoke first, clasping my hand between his and I realized his arm and forearm were heavily bandaged. “I'm so very sorry, Charlotte, we shouldn't have brought him to Zaen. The situation had reached desperation point, we had no way of saving you…”

  I smiled weakly. “It's okay.” I indicated the bandage. “Are you alright?”

  Lucas returned my smile. “Healing. Archangelo's barrier was highly effective at burning. We have a number of people carrying injuries from trying to breach it.”

  “I'm sorry.”

  “Least of our worries, Sugar,” Conal responded. “Don't even think about it.”

  A glance at Conal confirmed he was also injured, the bandage wrapped around his upper arm disappeared beneath the sleeve of his black t-shirt.

  “How bad is it?” I questioned, inclining my head towards his arm.

  He touched the bandage self-consciously. “It's nothing, Sugar. Healing up nicely.”

  Rowena slipped past Conal and sat carefully on the edge of the mattress. “Perhaps your father will learn to accept us, Charlotte.” She glanced at the group surrounding the bed. “Meeting our kind - it was bound to be a shock for him.”

  Ripley was standing behind Acenith, his hands resting on her waist and his eyes on me.

  “Ripley, can you hear his thoughts?”

  “Seems you contacting me from the lake has kick-started my ability,” Ripley admitted. “Your father doesn't trust us. His intentions are pure, he genuinely believes you would be safer with him and his family.” He met Lucas's eyes and rolled his eyes. “He doesn't like the relationship between you two; it bothers him immensely.” Ripley smiled. “Although like most fathers, I don't believe he would like anyone Charlotte was dating. Lucas being vampire isn't the issue
- it's the fact that Lucas is a man and you are Matt's daughter.”

  “Would you like me to speak with him again?” Ben offered. “Perhaps if we can get him to comprehend the situation you find yourself in…”

  “No,” I said, shaking my head firmly. “It's better this way. He'll be happier in San Diego, not knowing what's going on. It's bad enough that you've all gotten involved in this mess. I don't need to worry about more people getting hurt.”

  “Hey, Lott - I can't speak for everyone else, but I'm having a damn fine time,” Striker grinned broadly. “Life was pretty dull, but since you've appeared in our lives, it's gotten a heck of a lot more interesting.”

  “Pointing out the obvious, Sugar,” Conal added with a twinkle gleaming in his eyes. “You're the one lying in a hospital bed.”

  Conal's face was tranquil, his eyes warm and I swallowed uncertainly. “You and I - we're okay?”

  “We're always going to be okay, Sugar.” He rubbed his fingers against my arm. “I blew my cool, and I shouldn't have. And I hear I missed quite a battle with the demon.”

  “Not as exciting as the battle she had with Epi afterwards,” Striker added, with a mischievous twinkle in his eye.

  I flushed with mortification. “That wasn't a battle, that was me throwing an immature temper tantrum.”

  “An immature temper tantrum with outstanding use of the English language – including some words that don't even make it into a dictionary,” Holden announced enthusiastically.

  This time a full-on blush covered my skin and I looked up at Rowena sheepishly. “I'm really sorry, Rowena. The language I used – it was inexcusable.”

  “Oh, I think under the circumstances it was justifiable,” Rowena responded calmly. “A few of those words were ones I was thinking of using myself at the time. I could have quite willingly wrung Epi's neck.”

  “I…oh.” When my eyes widened in surprise, a sharp pain slashed across my cheek.