Conal ignored him and continued. “They might decide it's a nonsense. I can't predict how they'll react. You know what Dad was like when he met you. He was freaked out, thought you were a witch.”
I nodded wordlessly.
Conal was frowning, his black eyes solemn. “Until I'm certain of their support, I want to keep you separated from the pack. I'm not sure who we can trust. We have to think this through, make some plans.”
“You think someone from your pack is behind this?”
He shook his head. “No, I don't. But someone is. And the less people who know where you are, the better. At least until we work through this. Have you got your phone?”
I dipped my head in acknowledgement, feeling more than a little overwhelmed.
“Call Lucas, tell him what's going on. They need to be kept in the loop.”
Nonny lifted her head from the book she'd been studying. “Is that wise? How do we know they're not behind this?”
Conal heaved a sigh. “As much as I don't like to trust a bloodsucker… they seem like they're okay. They aren't behind it.” He looked down at me expectantly.
“I don't want to ring them. They'll be safer if they aren't involved,” I announced after thinking for a few minutes. “They don't need to know. Whoever is after me, has known where I am. If anything, I'm more concerned about you.”
Conal's harsh features softened; his eyes like liquid licorice when he gazed at me. “You're staying with me, Sugar. I'm not leaving you to deal with this on your own.”
A random thought occurred to me, plucked from the never ending and growing list of things rampaging through my mind and I looked at Epimetheus. “How can you be in a church? If you have so much demon blood, surely you've been damned? Isn't this consecrated ground?”
Epimetheus beamed. “I am different. Yes, I have demons blood. Far more demons blood than Conal and Nonny here.” He pulled at the neck of his tunic, dragging it down to reveal a tattoo on his shoulder. “But I fought on the side of good in the final war which destroyed Nememiah's Children. The leader of the Angel children was a brave man, who valued the truth and integrity of Nememiah's teachings. He gave me this mark.”
It was a wing, similar to the one on my neck, but starkly black against the old man's wrinkled white skin.
Chapter 28: Confusion
Three in the morning came and went as I paced in Conal's apartment. He'd dropped me off shortly after midnight, checking the apartment thoroughly before he left with Nonny to convene an emergency meeting with his pack.
A pile of books lay on the coffee table, but I was too agitated even to glance at them. The old man insisted I take them, wanting me to start learning about my 'prodigious gift' as he called it. My first task was to study the meaning of numerous pictures he called 'sigils'. I needed to memorize them and Epimetheus would be visiting the apartment later to commence my tuition.
I was still reeling from the revelations I'd been swamped with, and I was distracted and edgy. For the hundredth time, I questioned if what I'd been told could be true. It explained a number of episodes that had occurred in the past few months and how I'd managed to hurt Lucas and the others. But Nememiah's Child? Could I really have the blood of an Angel coursing through my veins?
The thought of this being some sort of… destiny weighed heavily. Epimetheus had insisted Nememiah's Children were warriors, fighters – slayers of demons and protectors of the weak. A description that sounded as far from me as it was possible to get. I'd backed away from fights my whole life, taking a pacifist approach to everything. Why would I be marked as a child of Nememiah? It didn't make sense. Besides, I'd killed someone – murdered my stepfather in cold blood. That didn't make me a likely candidate for having Angel blood.
I heard a key turn in the lock and relief flooded me when Conal walked into the hallway, shutting and bolting the door behind him. From the slump of his shoulders and the dejected look in his eyes, I could tell what the pack's answer had been.
“They didn't believe you.”
Conal dropped his keys onto the bench top, noticing me for the first time. “I thought you'd be in bed.” He drew me into his arms, holding me tightly against his chest.
“I didn't think I would sleep.” I searched his eyes for confirmation of what I'd deduced. “Guess they don't believe it, huh?”
Conal inhaled deeply, his black eyes ringed with tired shadows. “It's not so much that they don't believe it,” he said, rubbing my shoulders soothingly, “it's that they don't want to believe it.”
“So I'm on my own,” I said evenly, turning away to continue pacing.
“No, you aren't on your own. Nonny and I believe in you. Some of the others, they believe it deep down. But the pack follows its leaders and they voted against making preparations.” He caught my hand, drawing me to the couch and sinking onto it, pulling me down on his lap. I nestled against his chest, immediately calmer.
“Did they all vote against it?” I queried dully.
“No, it was close. My father voted with you, if that's any consolation.”
“So what do I do now?”
Conal snuggled me tighter against him. “We are going to bed. It's been a long day and a longer night. We'll start our own preparations tomorrow. Someone or something is trying to get you. I'm going to make sure that doesn't happen. Vander is going to teach you the Angel shit – I'm going to teach you how to protect yourself.”
I eyed him doubtfully. “How can you do that? You're away for at least three days a week and you've got to work.”
Conal rubbed my back reassuringly. “I'm taking leave. Immediately. I've got about three months' worth of holidays owing to me.”
“How is your Dad going to feel about that? Won't he guess you're going behind his back?”
“I'm not going behind his back,” Conal reassured me quietly. “It was Dad who suggested it. Like I told you, he voted with you. He can't be seen to be going against the pack's vote – but he can support you if he keeps it quiet.” Conal yawned and patted my leg. “Come on, Sugar. We can talk about this later. Time for bed.”
Utilizing his immense strength, which continually amazed me, Conal lifted me from the waist, setting me gently onto my feet before he stood up behind me. He escorted me down the hallway, stopping outside the bedroom to kiss my cheek softly. “Goodnight, Sugar.” He turned to walk down the hall but I caught his hand, drawing him back.
“Wait.”
Conal turned back, his dark eyes smoldering. “What's up?”
Swallowing nervously, I stumbled over the words. “Will you… can you—” I inhaled deeply. “Conal, stay with me. Please?”
Conal leaned one hand against the wall, dropping his gaze to the ground. “I can't, Charlotte. I want to; Christ knows I want that more than anything in the world. But I don't think I could share your bed and not touch you, not want to do more than I think you're capable of dealing with right now,” he admitted huskily. “I don't think—” he paused, clenching his hand into a fist. “I don't have the strength to lie beside you and not make love to you.”
“What if— what if that's what I want you to do?” I responded quietly.
Conal was silent for a long moment, his eyes betraying the internal battle he fought. “Why? Why now? Because you're frightened and think that what we heard today means you're in danger? Or because you genuinely want to make love to me?” He rubbed his hand across his chin tiredly as he watched me. “I want you to be making love to me, Charlotte. I don't want you to be thinking of the bloodsucker and I don't want to agree to this, then wake up in the morning and find a look of regret in those beautiful green eyes.”
I knew he was right. The thought of imminent danger, the fact that I might be attacked by some hidden enemy, that someone might want to harm me before I had a chance to make my twenty-first birthday – all those thoughts were influencing my decision-making process.
“Forget it,” I stated numbly. “You're right. Bad idea.” I slipped through the bedroom door, closing it soundlessly
behind me. Tearing off my clothes, I slipped into the shower, angry at making myself look foolish and embarrassed by my behavior. The hot water was soothing, pouring across my aching shoulders and neck but as the anger and embarrassment began to fade, it was replaced by fear. The tears began to flow again and I sank onto my haunches, holding my face in my hands as I tried to pull myself together. Falling apart was not going to change the situation. Deep in my heart, I believed Epimetheus and Nonny. It explained so many things. But I was absolutely, utterly and totally terrified.
I scrubbed clean and stepped from the shower, toweling dry and throwing on pajamas. I brushed my teeth and took a minute to stare at myself in the mirror. I looked like the same girl I'd always been, but one way or another, I wasn't that person any more. I was one of Nememiah's Children, put on this earth for entirely different reasons than I'd imagined. A trickle of fear rolled through my chest again and I shook my head vehemently. I wasn't going to let this scare me. Poking my tongue out at the mirror, I turned off the bathroom light and walked into the bedroom.
I came to a standstill, staring at the bed in surprise. Conal was lying there, the sheets pulled up to his waist and his dark hair still damp.
“I thought we decided this was a bad idea,” I stated quietly.
“It is a bad idea. I'm not here for that,” he responded, just as quietly. “You need me to help keep the bad dreams away.” He held out his arms and I slid into the bed, letting him hold me close.
“Thank you,” I was laying against the hard muscle of his chest, listening to his heart beneath my ear.
“You're welcome,” he responded huskily, rubbing his fingers idly through my hair.
“You don't have to do this.”
He inhaled deeply, the movement making my head rise and fall against his chest. “I think I do. Given the current situation, I think I'm more comfortable in here with you, making sure you stay safe.”
“Do you think someone could find me here?”
He shook his head a little. “I'm not sure. But I feel a hell of a lot better being with you, rather than down the hallway.”
I retreated into silence for a few minutes, absorbed in thought. Wondering how my life could possibly have become so bizarre. “Conal?”
“Mmmm?”
“Had you ever heard of Nememiah's Children?”
“I've been thinking about that myself. I remember hearing stories of Angels, demon hunters and the like.” He shrugged. “Can't say it's a legend that I ever really believed. But now, I guess it might be possible.”
“Six months ago, I didn't even know you were possible,” I said ruefully. “Vampires, werewolves, shape shifters – they were all myths. There's a whole world I didn't know about. And then today, meeting a real live warlock. It's stuff I thought only existed in fairytales.” I tilted my head to see Conal's face. “Do you think this is happening because of any of them? Or are demons really out there and I just haven't come across them yet?”
“Demons are Otherworld creatures. According to the myths, they invaded this world thousands of years ago. Our legends say all of the werewolves and vampires were created by combining human and demon blood. The demons were supposedly eradicated from this world, centuries ago.”
“Myths?” I questioned quietly.
Conal smiled and it was just a little weary, a little more tired than his usual bright smile. “I'm a myth, Charlotte. Us, the bloodsuckers – we're all myths.” He laid his hand over mine, where it lay on the smooth expanse of his chest. “Do I feel like a myth?”
“No,” I admitted softly.
“How do we know, Charlotte? I'm real, yet I'm relegated to a myth because we need to keep our true nature a secret. What makes me real, but the Yeti, the Loch Ness Monster, Bigfoot – they're all disregarded as mythical creatures? Vander might be right; the demons may not be a myth either. Just because we haven't seen them, doesn't mean they don't exist.”
“If being one of these Angel children means I can sense the presence of demons – how can I contact your ancestors?” I asked. “If you have demon blood, doesn't that mean I shouldn't be able to hear them?”
“I don't mean you any harm, Sugar. From what Vander was prattling on about, I'm guessing people who mean you harm personally, whether they have demon blood or not, are the ones that you can't read,” Conal responded, after a moment's thought. “Epi said warlocks have more demon blood than anyone else, something about being more than fifty percent. The rest of us, presumably, have less.”
But you can go into a church." I continued my train of thought, working through the points that I was sure would add up to a conclusion, if I followed each one. “If you've got demon blood, doesn't that stop you entering consecrated ground?”
Conal shrugged. “Maybe it's the amount of demon blood. All I know is I've gone to church since I was a little kid. Nothing horrible ever happened to me – well, I guess I did get a whipping once for trying to look up one of the Nuns' habits. But I don't think that had anything to do with demon blood,” he admitted with a wry grin.
“So why did some become vampires and others become werewolves?”
“Demons came in many shapes and forms. I guess it depended on which demons blood got into the mix.”
“Well, that all sounds very scientific.”
Conal sighed. “Charlotte, I don't have all the answers. I just know that I'm a werewolf and I was born a werewolf. Others become werewolves through being bitten. Vampires are humans who've been bitten by another vampire. Shape shifters, from what I understand, they happen because of genetic mutation. No demon blood required.”
“Really?” I questioned sharply.
“Really.”
I considered for a moment. “What would happen if you and I… well, you know? Do we have werewolf babies?” I held my breath, wondering if this line of questioning would make him angry. I didn't want to say anything that would put any ideas in his mind, or make him unhappy.
“That sounds like an offer I wouldn't refuse,” he admitted with a smile. “If you and I had babies, they'd have a fifty-fifty chance of being werewolf. There's a higher rate of miscarriage in mixed blood babies though, as high as seventy percent.”
“What happens if I don't have human blood? What if I have Angel blood?”
Conal took a deep breath and allowed it to escape slowly between his lips. “I don't know. If you're going to keep propositioning me like this, you should ask Vander – he might have the answers.” He caught my chin with his fingertips and lifted my face to his. “Right now, you need to go to sleep. And so do I. Goodnight, Sugar.” He kissed my lips softly, and then hunkered down until he was under the covers, settling me against his chest with his arms encircling my back.
I lay for a long time, listening to the sound of his steady breathing before I fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.
Chapter 29: Training
The following days flew by, as Epimetheus and Conal taught me everything they could. Evenings were filled with studying the books Epimetheus continued to give me at an alarming rate. I found memorizing the sigil's comparatively easy, almost as if they were being rediscovered from somewhere deep in the recesses of my mind and had always been there. I had no idea what they were used for yet, Epimetheus was giving no clues, only urging me to remember each and every one of them.
Learning the history of Nememiah's Children was a fascinating experience. There was no single history book dedicated to their memory, but Epimetheus had amassed a massive collection of archaic works dedicated to their legend, power and demise. He insisted I learn as much as I could and I was enjoying the process.
Nonny joined us whenever she found opportunity. Conal insisted the pack mustn't know what we were doing, so she couldn't spend as much time with us as she'd have liked. I'd wondered aloud what might happen if the pack found out, and Conal's response was blunt – anyone acting against the pack vote would be cast out, disowned by family and friends.
As Conal had predicted, some members of the pack
believed our story and our numbers were swelled by those who swore to help us if the need arose. Kenyon appeared at Conal's apartment a couple of days after the meeting, introducing us to his wife Marissa, and son Javier. A few days later, we were visited by Ralph Torres, along with his brother Rudolph. Ralph greeted me with respect, asking to unite with our group.
They were followed by other pack members in a steady trickle, younger men and women who believed what was happening must be prepared for. Conal was keeping them up to date with our planning and Ralph took up the role of Beta to Conal's Alpha. He worked with our small group to train for whatever was coming our way. Conal insisted I be kept separate from them, so we continued working with Epimetheus alone.
The spirits were more forthcoming with information and in long conversations; I gained a deeper understanding of my task. Whilst all this was a new discovery to me, they'd always been aware I was a child of Nememiah. They just hadn't enlightened me, until after I discovered it for myself. Which annoyed the heck out of me, but they'd argued it was another rule they were bound to follow. Now they were offering both advice and information. It didn't mean I was completely in the loop, but they would help me where and when they could. I passed on information to Conal and Epimetheus and learned how to work with the spirits' assistance. They could protect me from many attacks, but warned again and again that I wasn't immortal, and could easily be killed. This declaration only increased my apprehension. They refused to give information about what we faced, despite asking them a multitude of times.
June melted into July and the full heat of summer was upon us. I sweated through lessons with Epimetheus at the church when Conal was with the pack. Epimetheus had no air-conditioning and seemed blissfully impervious to the shimmering heat of Mississippi's summer.
I'd memorized many of the sigils, which were designed to provide extra strengths and powers during battle. Courage, agility, and speed were but a few. There were an amazing array and Epi was intent on teaching me every single one of them. How they were used remained a mystery, Epimetheus assuring me that knowledge would come in time.
Knowledge Quickening (The Nememiah Chronicles Book 2) Page 22