Knowledge Hurts (The Nememiah Chronicles Book 3)
Page 36
I took his hand and he pulled me gently to my feet, warm fingers clenching my own. “I'm proud of you, Charlotte. Really proud.” He pulled me into an awkward hug and I wrapped my arms around his waist, feeling oddly secure with this man I barely knew.
Chapter 43: Learning to Cope
The funeral pyres burned constantly for the next forty eight hours as our city honored its dead. The heavy pall of smoke coincided with a change in the weather, the skies overcast and heavy rain falling as I stood with the other mourners outside the gates.
Lucas, Conal and Nick attended every funeral with me, after I announced it was my duty to attend. Listening as tributes were delivered for each of our dead, I sorrowfully realized that I'd learned more about these people after their deaths than I'd been given the opportunity to do in life.
The three men were resplendent in suits, the muted colors soaked to a darker hue by the constant rain. In contrast, I'd elected to wear white, with Marianne providing a knitted cashmere skirt and jacket. I stood beneath the umbrella Lucas held over us, listening mutely as the deceased were given their final rights.
Every funeral was overseen by a company of guards, watching vigilantly for signs of further attack. The spirits were in continuous contact, ensuring I'd have warning if the Consiliului sent more assailants. Whether by accident or good timing, there were no attacks during the funerals and we cremated the dead without any further incident.
Finally, the last of the funerals concluded and we walked back into Zaen, splashing through muddy puddles created by the incessant rain.
“Let's go and have a drink,” Conal suggested as we entered the gates, following behind other mourners. His eyes raked over my pale skin, dark shadowed and dull eyes. “I think you need one.”
It was probably true - the effect of attending fifty six funerals was depressing and as I'd watched the fires being ignited beneath the bodies, I couldn't help but feel liable for their deaths. Lucas had his arm wrapped around my waist and Conal and Nick walked close to my other side, providing support through their proximity.
“I'm going to go home and get into bed,” I replied. My feet were aching, my head thumping and the last thing I needed was the company of other people.
“Charlotte, Conal's right. You should have a drink, relax a little. You've endured a number of difficult days.”
I narrowed my eyes at Lucas. “It disturbs me when you two agree with one another.”
“Sometimes the dog is right,” Lucas admitted, his tone suggesting he hated to confess it. In recent days, Lucas and Conal had presented a united front, getting along with each other, but I was aware of the tension simmering just beneath the surface.
“Gee, thanks for the vote of confidence, leech,” Conal grinned.
“Oh, stop it, both of you,” I grumbled. “Fine. I'll go home and shower, then I'll come down to the mess for one drink. That's it.”
We parted ways at the street where our cottage was situated and Lucas and I walked slowly to our home. Other than a brief couple of hours sleep, I'd barely been there since the attack and I craved a long, hot shower to try and wash away the memory of the funerals.
Lucas followed me upstairs and sat on the edge of the bed as I hunted for clean clothes. “You've barely spoken in the past few days,” he announced.
“I've had a lot on my mind.” I rummaged through the drawers, searching for a sweater. Everything seemed so complicated right now, even the search for something suitable to wear, and I sighed, pushing clothing haphazardly out of the way as my frustration grew.
Lucas came to stand beside me. “I wish you would talk to me, my love. I'm worried about you.”
Pulling my hair from the tight chignon I'd pulled it into, I shook my head a little until the curls fell around my shoulders. Then I returned to the search of the drawer, my tension increasing. “There's nothing I want to talk about.”
Lucas sighed, gripping my hand in his. “Charlotte, stop throwing clothes about and talk to me. I want to help you through this, if only you'll let me.”
I shut my eyes, a torrent of pain pouring through my heart. “You want to know what's wrong with me?” I asked, wrenching away from his hold. My eyes blazed with anger and shame. “You all seem to think I'm noble and wonderful because of what I did out there. But I'm not! I'm frightened and I'm a terrible person. I've been attending funerals for the past two days and all I could think about, standing out there in the rain was the fact that it wasn't you! Or Conal, or Nick! And I feel so guilty about that! Guilty and terrible, and I wish… I wish…” I sobbed brokenly, unable to continue speaking as everything overwhelmed me.
Lucas pulled me into his arms, holding me close. “It's a natural reaction, Charlotte, to feel this way.” He brushed his fingers across my damp curls, the motion exquisitely tender. “We all feel the same way - the desire to keep those you love safe, is a powerful sensation.”
I drew a shuddering breath, leaning against Lucas and clinging to his jacket. “I don't want you to die,” I whispered.
Lucas kissed the top of my head. “We all feel that way, Charlotte. Everyone one of us fears for the people we love and feels relieved that death came to someone else, not our own loved ones. It's a normal response. We can feel sympathy for those who lost their own, but it's natural to feel relief that it wasn't someone you love who was killed.” He rubbed his hands soothingly down my back. “Imagine how you feel, my love, and increase it a hundred fold. Despite your abilities, you are still very much human - when you ran out into the battle - the pain of thinking I might never see you alive again was excruciating.” He held me closer still, his arms wrapped around me as though he was attempting to cocoon us from the world. “Charlotte, you must try not to worry about others around you when you are battling these creatures - all your concentration must be on keeping yourself safe. Conal, Nick - the others - we're different. The very fact of what we are gives us stronger abilities when fighting the demons and vampires. And there's not one person who fights with you, who hasn't had battle experience, who hasn't fought something or someone before.” He kissed my forehead. “But you - while the sigils you draw on your skin amplify your physical abilities, the fact remains that you are a human woman. The thought of you battling those demons - knowing that one mistake could see you killed. It's more than I can bear. More than any of us can bear.”
I wished again that I could leave this place, run away from here and find somewhere safe to hide. My confidence had taken a beating in the battle on the fields outside and doubts filled my mind.
“I'm frightened,” I admitted quietly.
Lucas caught my face between his hands, searching my eyes. “You should be frightened. In many ways, I prefer you being frightened to being courageous. It makes me feel as though you might be a little more aware of your own mortality.” He bent forward, briefly catching my lips with his own. “Fear is a healthy emotion - it isn't something you should avoid. These past couple of days, when you've been so silent, not discussing your feelings… Charlotte, promise me, that you will discuss these things with me? I'm here for you and I want to support you. But it's difficult when you aren't allowing me to know what you're thinking.”
I nodded mutely and threw myself back into his arms, holding him tightly against my body as tears began to roll down my cheeks. The pent-up emotions of the past two days had burst across the top of the dam I'd built up and I sobbed as Lucas whispered soothing words against my ear and rubbed his hands lovingly across my back. When I'd cried myself out, I pulled away from his grip and smiled weakly. “I love you.”
“And I love you, Charlotte. I will always love you.” He rubbed his thumb across my cheek, wiping the tears away. “You are the most important thing in my world.”
“Even though I'm a mess?”
Lucas smiled. “You're not a mess, my love. Stronger people would buckle under the pressure in your position. But please, don't hide your feelings from me anymore, all right?”
I nodded. “I promise.”
I flicked my fingers across his wet suit jacket. “You're soaking wet, too.”
“Unlike you, I don't feel the cold.”
“Still,” I said insistently, raising my hands to push the jacket from his broad shoulders, “wouldn't it be a good idea for you to have a shower too?”
Lucas arched one eyebrow, gazing down at me I saw the desire spark in his eyes. “Are you suggesting we share the shower?”
Tugging at the neat tie around his neck, I grinned. “Yes, I think that's exactly what I'm suggesting.”
Lucas reached for his tie and in one swift movement had it undone, throwing it to the floor. “Maybe I should be worrying about my own virtue,” he suggested with a smile, leaning forward to capture my mouth with his.
≈†◊◊†◊◊†◊◊†≈
The central courtyard was overflowing with people, lights glowing brightly from every window in the Mess. Lucas and I walked hand-in-hand across the grass and he squeezed my fingers reassuringly. I wasn't sure how the people of Zaen were going to react. Were they angry that I'd been unable to keep everyone safe? Did they blame me for the attack? I'd had little opportunity to speak with anyone in the past forty eight hours and my knowledge of the community's mindset was limited.
All apprehension evaporated as people approached us to talk, to offer a welcoming hug and incredibly, to thank us for providing sanctuary in the city.
Lucas and I walked slowly through the crowds milling around outside, our pace reduced by the continual procession of people greeting us. It was the precise opposite of what I'd expected. I'd assumed they would hate me, would blame me for what happened. Instead, they treated me with respect and thanks for providing safety for their wives and husbands, children, grandparents. Despite my misgivings, they accepted the deaths we'd suffered as a natural part of battle, exactly as Lucas had predicted.
We reached the Mess and Lucas held the door open, allowing me to enter before him. Linking his fingers through mine, we strolled across the room. Again, people seemed eager to talk and I spotted Conal sitting with some of his pack. He grinned, winking and raising his beer in salute. I flushed with embarrassment and glanced away.
Epi sat with Ben, Rowena, Nat Finton, Matt and Misaki. Ben located two chairs in the crowded room and I sank down into one thankfully, whilst Lucas went to the makeshift bar to get a drink.
Misaki sat by my side and enveloped me in a warm hug. “How are you?”
I shrugged. “Okay. Where's Kazuki?”
Misaki grinned, her brown eyes filled with delight. “He's playing with Katie and some of the other kids. Gwynn is keeping an eye on them.”
I smiled brightly, the first time I'd done so in days. “I bet she's loving that.”
“That woman was born to be a Mom,” Misaki agreed. “She loves those kids.”
Lucas placed a glass on the table and slipped into the empty chair at my side. “Drink this, my Charlotte. It'll help you to relax.”
I lifted the glass and sniffed at it, recognizing the familiar odor of scotch. Tears filled my eyes as I recalled Phelan giving me a scotch only a few weeks ago, when he'd been so determined to get me to drink. Now it seemed like a lifetime ago.
I bit my lip and inhaled deeply, straightening my shoulders. If these people could celebrate being alive, I could too. I gulped down some of the drink, feeling it warm my throat as I swallowed.
Epi leaned across the table. He was wearing a bright blue tunic, which matched the color of his eyes. “Are you feeling calmer now, child?”
“I am.” To my surprise, it was the truth. I did feel better. Releasing pent up emotion had been a panacea to my shattered nerves. I still felt an indelible sadness in my psyche for those we'd lost, but it was countered by happiness for those we'd saved. And with that happiness came a belief that perhaps we would find better ways of fighting, discover the secret to winning this war and defeating the Consiliului.
Marianne and Striker approached, locating another two chairs and they sat down with us. Marianne smiled elatedly. “Charlotte, it is wonderful to see you dressed in something other than camouflage pants and a tank top!”
I returned her smile. “Well, I could hardly wear this to fight demons, could I?”
Lucas let his eyes roam over my clothing and his gaze heated my skin. I'd selected a red cashmere sweater, with a low cut neckline, teaming it with tight black jeans and boots. He looked up, meeting my eyes again and winked. “Definitely not,” he agreed huskily.
“Charlotte?” Nat caught my attention from across the table. “Your father has some good ideas which I think you should hear.”
I sipped a little more scotch and glanced at my father. “Funnily enough, I've heard a few rumors, Matt. What's the grand plan?”
“What rumors have your heard?” Matt countered coyly. I noticed he was drinking a soda, nursing the can between his hands.
“Something to do with the humans being able to help out during a fight.” I stirred my drink thoughtfully with the straw. “Although I'm hoping it doesn't involve any of you being out there.” The thought of putting humans in the field of battle, with no increased abilities was something I wasn't going to consider, democracy or not. The little I knew about my father confirmed without doubt he was a brave man, honest and strong. But this was a different type of war to what he was used to and I would never consider him being out there with us. Never.
“Your father and I have already discussed that, child. He agrees our human allies would not be safe in the field itself, due to the very nature of our enemies. Rather, he has some other, quite good ideas,” Epi said.
I studied Matt for a moment, seeing the determined set to his jaw, the strong features. Every single characteristic spoke of a military man who was brave and proud, but also intelligent and well-spoken. “So? Spill it.”
Matt sipped his soda, scanning the crowd. “Hey! Clinton!”
Clinton Davis came over to join us. Matt greeted him like they were old buddies and brought him up to speed on our discussion, before turning to me again. “Clinton has been helping me with these ideas, so he should be here to add his input.”
“Hey Clinton,” I greeted the former Chief of Police warmly.
“Charlotte.” Clinton grinned.
I narrowed my eyes, eyeing both men suspiciously. “So?”
Matt twisted the soda between his fingers. “We've been talking with Epi and Ben about these demons your fighting. They've already convinced me that humans can't do much about the young vampires, they're too strong for us to have much impact. But the demons, they might be a different matter. Epi tells me the only way to return them to this Otherworld place is to attack them with the weapons. But Clinton and I have been discussing whether with modern technology, there might be other ways to fight them.”
“Such as?” I was curious now, obviously Matt had been doing his homework and he'd apparently thought about this long and hard. I found myself warming further to him.
“We can't be certain until we run some tests, but we're wondering if we can use modern technology, set up on the ramparts, to attack the demons.”
“What sort of modern technology?” Lucas queried.
“Machine guns. Rocket launchers,” Matt explained. “Epi reckons he can procure some equipment for us and we'll test out the theory, see if it's workable.”
“Do we have any idea if those sort of weapons would work on the demons?” Striker questioned. “We know there's something specific about the weapons which causes the injuries to the demons. None of us can injure them enough to return them to the Otherworld without the weapons. What makes you think we could use machine guns and rocket launchers and have any success?”
“We don't know for sure,” Clinton admitted, “but Matt and I think it's worth experimenting, see if we can find a way to MacGyver the ammunition to injure or kill the demons.”
>
“What? Bullets made out of the same material the weapons contain?” I wondered aloud.
“That would be impossible, child. The weapons were created by Nememiah himself and I doubt their construction is something we could replicate,” Epi contradicted immediately. “However, your father and Clinton have some other ideas which we would like to try.”
“We want to set up some weapons on the ramparts, have Epi create some demons to practice on. Your Dad and I have got a list of things we'd like to attempt, see if anything is useful,” Clinton continued. He ran a hand across his stubbled jaw. “We're thinking at the very least we might be able to injure them. If we can come up with something to disable them, stop them in the midst of an attack and allow our people to gain an advantage, it would be beneficial.”
Matt leaned across the table, clasping my hand in his. “What do you think, Charlotte? Should we give it a try?” He regarded me earnestly and squeezed my fingers. “If we can find some way of making this work, it would add another forty people to our group who can fight…”
I wrenched my fingers from his grip and raised my hands to my head as the spirits clamored for attention.
“What's wrong?” Matt demanded.
“Sound the alarm,” I gasped. “We've got incoming.”
Chapter 44: Madness
Outside the walls, utter chaos reigned. The entire horizon was filled with demons and vampires, our little band making a valiant effort against them. The skies over the city were pitch black, it was a moonless night and I was grateful when huge bonfires flared to life on the ground around us. Epi was lighting our way.
There hadn't been time to change, I still wore the sweater and black jeans, my sleeves rolled up where I'd marked sigils swiftly as we made for the gates.
Our little group poured out through the gates of Zaen to meet the enemy head on, and the sounds and images were a repeat performance of the attack four days ago. Remaining inside, Marianne and Rowena were marking people, giving them a few rapid marks to increase their strength and agility.