Knowledge Quickening (The Nememiah Chronicles Book 2)

by D. S. Williams

  I nodded my agreement and was staggered when Phelan hugged me. I patted his back awkwardly, while he sobbed against my shoulder.

  Phelan stayed for a little while longer, as the sun rose higher in the sky and the heat of the day shimmered across the plain on the other side of the river. When he recovered his composure, he restated his desire that I meet his wife and with one last pat on my shoulder, left me to my thoughts.

  For the longest time I sat motionless, numbed by the events of the night. When the tears started to flow, I recalled the loss of Phelan's teenage children, along with all the others who'd lost their lives during this long, drawn-out night.

  And I cried for the loss of Lucas, Ben, and Rowena – everyone I loved. Terror gripped me as I wondered what would happen to them.

  ≈†◊◊†◊◊†◊◊†≈

  Conal approached me hours later. Despite the heat of the day, I'd remained by the river, preferring the seclusion as I wrestled with bouts of anger and sorrow. The only indication of the passing time had been the sun steadily crossing the sky and I guessed it must be mid-afternoon by now.

  Conal sat beside me and wordlessly drew me into his arms. I lay with my head against his chest, sagging with relief. I breathed in deeply, the scent of his skin filling me with peace.

  “Thank you doesn't seem like enough. You saved a lot of lives, Charlotte.”

  I straightened up, guilt bubbling in my chest like a cancer. “If it wasn't for me, none of them would be dead.” My voice was bitter, anger vibrating in my throat.

  Conal's eyes were red-rimmed, the skin around his eyes shadowed by dark circles. He seemed to have aged overnight; his shoulders, usually so broad and strong had slumped, crushed by the attack on his people. “Charlotte, you know I can't tell you that isn't true. What I can tell you is that the pack— my pack stands behind you in this. Kenyon says they were attacked by younglings – vampires with almost no self-control, no ability to contain their savage bloodlust. You didn't do that. Someone else sent them to massacre our people.”

  “The Drâghici Kiss. The Vampire Council.”

  “Why would they be interested in you?”

  I laughed mirthlessly, startling a few birds who took flight in alarm.

  “Because I have something they want. Lucas told me months ago that they collect items of interest. He knew my ability would be of interest to them.”

  “Do you think they know what you are?”

  I shook my head. “I don't know. Epi seems to think so. He's even more convinced all these incidents – including the attack on the Tine Kiss and your pack – are related. They probably thought they'd capture me easily, but whom I choose to hang around with has thwarted their plans, so now they've come out into the open. They attacked your pack, probably thinking I would be here. They've taken Lucas and the others, because they know I'd been with them. I think it's either retribution, or they're trying to draw me out.”

  “Do you—” He broke off and rubbed my shoulder soothingly for a few seconds, as he composed his question. “Do you think they've killed them?”

  I shook my head. “I think they're going to use them as hostages. To force me to come to them.”

  “How can you be so sure?”

  My voice was flat when I answered. “Because I haven't heard any of them in my head. If they were dead – I'd know about it.”

  Conal sat up a little straighter, tension rolling off him in waves I could physically sense. “Did you know about my father?” he demanded.

  I'd walked right into that one. I hadn't even had a chance to reflect on my decision to avoid telling Conal about his father's death. I'd been so consumed with sorrow and worry, the trauma of watching people dead and dying around me, there hadn't been time. Taking a shaky breath, I 'fessed up. “Yes. He spoke to me in the car on the way down here.”

  Conal's eyes flashed angrily. “Why didn't you tell me?”

  I turned to him, knowing I couldn't handle another ounce of guilt, even if I tried. “What possible good would it have done?”

  Conal's stare hardened. “Charlotte, he was my father. I had a right to know he was dead.”

  Anger bubbled up, swamping the guilt in seconds. “And you found out he was dead! Would another fifteen minutes have made any difference?” I scrambled to my feet, wrapping my arms around my waist, holding myself together tightly. “Do you think I like this? Do you think it's easy to deal with all the people in my head, knowing things other people don't? I don't suppose it occurred to you that it was a shock, hearing your Dad speak to me? I might not have known him well, but he was important to you and you're important to me! Maybe I didn't want to be the one to hurt you so badly! Maybe I was wrong not to tell you what I'd heard! But maybe, just maybe, I thought it was enough of a tragedy, for you to have to hear it at all! Maybe I thought another fifteen minutes of not knowing was better than the finality of what I had to tell you!”

  I turned and stumbled along the river's edge, blindsided by his anger. It was the final straw, the last devastating episode in a night of horrifying events, which tipped me over the edge. I ran blindly along the riverbank, sobbing brokenly.

  Conal reached my side before I'd gone far and caught my arm, turning me and holding me firmly against his body. I slumped against him, my tears impossible to stop and he waited mutely for me to regain control, his big hands rubbing across my back in a soothing gesture. When my sobbing had reduced to the occasional hiccough, he looked down at me, his black eyes filled with tenderness. “I'm sorry, Sugar. It's been a tough night for everyone, including you.”

  “I would have told you, if I thought it would have made any difference. But it wouldn't have changed a thing,” I said quietly.

  “You're right. I know you're right. I'm just pissed about what happened here last night.” He rubbed my back thoughtfully. “Charlotte, what are we going to do?”

  I met his eyes. “We aren't doing anything. I've already caused you and your people more than enough grief. Your father is dead because of me. Dozens of others are dead because of me.” With the guilt overpowering me again, I took a firm breath. “I'm going to face the Vampire Council. I've spoken to Nick Lingard and he and his pack are going to help. Lucas and his friends – they've been taken because of me. I have no choice but to try and rescue them.”

  “The Tremaine pack will join with you. We will avenge ourselves,” Conal announced. “And we have a pact with Lucas's Kiss; it's our duty to help them.”

  It took a minute to remember he was pack leader after Lyell Tremaine's death. The leadership passed from father to son. “I guess that makes us brother and sister,” I suggested softly. I wondered what it meant for my relationship with Conal.

  “Charlotte,” he began huskily, “would you have had sex with me last night, if we hadn't been interrupted?”

  I blushed, nodding slowly. I knew without doubt that if events hadn't overtaken us, I would have let him make love to me. Wanted him to make love to me. But everything had changed now.

  He sighed and I knew instinctively what was coming. “I love you, Charlotte. I will always love you. But I can't have a relationship with you now. It's my duty to marry a pureblooded werewolf. More than ever before, I know that's what I have to do. My responsibility as pack leader is to marry another pureblood and produce a pureblooded child. You and I, we can't do that.” He turned away, his eyes growing distant and I could sense his pain. It echoed in my own heart.

  I put my hand against his cheek, caressing the warmth of his skin for what would probably be the last time. His decision meant we would no longer have the physical relationship we'd had. He could no longer share my bed, platonically or otherwise. That role in his life must be vacated for a woman who could provide what I could not – a pureblooded werewolf child. I knew why he had to do this and that the decision wasn't easy for him. But I could make it as painless as possible for him. “Conal, it's okay, I understand. And it would never have worked for us anyway.”

  “Because you still love the
bloodsucker,” he grimaced, with something close to distaste crossing his handsome features.

  I nodded. “Because I still love the bloodsucker.”

  Chapter 34: Enchantments

  “What I don't understand is why attack the pack? Why take Lucas and his people? Why not just come and snatch me? I couldn't possibly be that difficult to find.” I was lying on Epi's couch, hands clasped behind my neck as I voiced my thoughts.

  Epi was flitting around the room, doing what he did best – taking numerous books from his expansive library, rifling through them and dropping them haphazardly to the floor when he didn't find what he was looking for.

  “As I told you, Charlotte. Your powers are climbing towards their peak now. I believe the Council, for whatever reason, wants you to be as powerful as you can possibly be,” Epi responded impatiently.

  “But they could have taken me when I was on my own. Or from the apartment… or even from here and let me get powerful while they held me. Why kill innocent people?”

  Epi glanced up from the book he was poring over. “You foolish girl. Of course, they can't take you from here. Or from the apartment for that matter.”

  I sat up, staring at him shrewdly. “And why would that be?”

  Epi grinned, his toothless smile only slightly less alarming now than it had been when I first met him. “Because I have placed powerful enchantments over both my home and Conal's apartment.” I stared at him blankly and he huffed impatiently. “To protect you, child. Once I realized what you were, I knew I had to keep you as safe as I possibly could. Of course, my home has always had enchantments to keep out unwanted visitors, but when I came to Conal's apartment, I placed similar charms over the structure.”

  “What exactly do these enchantments do?”

  “Stop anyone from breaking in. Nobody will remember the location of the church, or Conal's apartment. Even if they followed you here or there… they would be unable to remember where it was, as soon as they left again. And if by chance they recognized the position of the buildings, they would be struck dumb if they attempted to tell anyone where we are located. Completely unable to vocalize the address.” Epi looked immensely pleased with himself over the power of his enchantments.

  I had to grin. “Nice one, Epi, but I wish you'd told me before now. You could have used the same enchantments to protect everyone else.”

  He frowned heavily, his blue eyes sharpening. “I am not a circus performer, young lady. These are powerful enchantments and they take some time to create. They're designed for small areas, not entire suburbs filled with werewolves.”

  “Then why not try and take me when I was with the pack? They'd been there just a couple of hours beforehand. They could have waited, they must have known Conal would be contacted and surely they would have figured he might take me with him?”

  “Perhaps, my dear, they are wanting to see exactly how far you have progressed,” Epi stated mildly. “For some reason, unknown to ourselves, they seem to want you as close to the age of twenty one as possible. When your powers will reach their natural peak.”

  I lapsed into silence again, flopping back onto the couch. It had been a week since the attack and I was holed up with Epi while Conal organized moving the remains of his people to safety. He had taken leadership of his pack and he'd been hard at work ever since, holding endless meetings with the pack elders, supporting the bereaved and reforming his pack into a cohesive unit, albeit with greatly reduced numbers.

  His elevation to Alpha had not been without controversy. Whilst he had the support of Lyell's elders, and a right by birth to lead – there was a small group within the pack who'd attempted to stage a coup. Conal had been forced to fight for his right to succession. Some insisted his lack of a spouse and pureblood offspring were enough of a failing to allow the challenge. Conal hadn't divulged the details, but Epi cheerfully explained it involved a physical challenge and ended in the death of the loser – at the hands of the winner. After hearing those details, I didn't press Conal for any more information, but I was relieved beyond belief when he won. If he'd killed the challenger, I didn't want to know about it. Werewolves were not humans and their lifestyle and beliefs weren't human. It was something I'd learned and didn't question.

  Conal had been teaching his pack what we'd discovered – that they weren't restricted to transformation during the full moon. More and more of his people were able to transform at will and this would help while they hid from the Drâghici. They were physically stronger and faster in werewolf form and the power to transform if another attack was forthcoming would give them a far better chance of survival.

  I hadn't seen Conal since he'd driven back to the city late on Sunday night and deposited me with Epi. He'd told me on the long drive back he only trusted Nonny and Epi after the attack. Conal was convinced there was a spy within his ranks and was doing his best to locate them. He insisted someone had to have tipped off the vampires and organized the simultaneous attack that occurred.

  But who could the spy be? Everyone, every single family had lost a member during the attack. Not one person stood out as an obvious suspect.

  What Epi said was true; my powers were increasing exponentially. I had cohesive control of the spirits, could summon as many as I needed with barely a thought. Most of my strengths came from the spirits – although I was becoming more adept at physical battle, my strongest weapon was the spirits. Epi continued to train with me each day and I could defeat him with both physical and mental counter-attacks. Epi explained that each of Nememiah's Children had their own particular strengths. Some in the past would have had enhanced physical prowess, or magical abilities. All of Nememiah's Children could converse with the spirits within them, but my unique gift was to be able to summon them corporeally and have them do my bidding.

  “Ah! Here it is,” Epi announced triumphantly. He marched over to where I was still laying on the couch and handed me a book, pointing to a diagram in it. “This is it.”

  For the past week, I'd dealt with nightmares, although that was too weak a description for them. They were strange and distressing nighttime terrors. Every time I closed my eyes and slept, I was enmeshed in horrifying images. I'd seen Lucas, Ben and Striker, lying dead at my feet. Acenith and Rowena being murdered by the Council. I'd seen William and Holden being tortured and burnt with holy water, their skin melting away from their bones. Marianne and Gwynn had reached for me, their eyes crazed with agony as they were raped by a faceless monster, screaming for help. Ripley had chased me, driven insane by thirst, fangs dripping blood onto his crisp white shirt as he tore open my throat. I'd seen Katie being murdered by the Drâghici, her tiny body shriveling as they drained her, tiny fingers reaching out in a desperate plea for help. With his eyes glowing blood red, Conal bore down upon me – half man, half werewolf, and his jaws dripping with blood. I'd had nightmares of endless armies of spirits, lined up with lifeless eyes, carrying weapons that gleamed silver, light glinting off their rotting faces. Intermingled through it all, a half-formed sigil kept appearing, something I didn't recognize. Each time I awoke, screaming and terrified, the sigil faded from my memory before I could completely recall it.

  There was one other thing about the nightmares. Although it wasn't as terrifying as the other aspects, it was the most disturbing element. I kept seeing a man of similar age to me. His eyes were the same shade of green as mine, his skin coloring and features so identical it seemed as if we could be related. Every time he appeared, he would sprint towards me and his mouth opened in a huge yaw, swallowing me. This part haunted me more than anything else, if only because of the resemblance. Why did this complete stranger keep appearing and what did he have to do with the nightmares? Why did he look like a masculine version of me? I had no answers.

  Epi had offered to prepare a sleeping draught, which he insisted would hold the nightmares at bay and allow uninterrupted sleep, but I kept refusing. I was convinced there were answers in the nightmares and I was resolute about analyzing them, no ma
tter how difficult it proved to be.

  I'd been trying to remember the sigil since the nightmares began. The spirits had proven less than helpful and when I grumbled, Epi said their purpose wasn't to guide me through this strange new life with any clarity. They could give direction and advice, but wouldn't always give me answers. It was up to me to discover the answers myself. Despite his advice, I needled the spirits, begging for help. How could I fight what I didn't know?

  I gazed at the diagram Epi was showing me and I knew it was the same sigil I kept seeing in the nightmares. Where I'd only been able to draw the partial sigil, this one was complete. “What is it?” I asked, tracing the outlines of the intricate loop and memorizing it.

  “Purity,” Epi responded. “But I don't understand why you are seeing it in your nightmares. Purity is not a sigil Nememiah's Children have ever used. They were already pure, through the blood running in their veins.”

  I shrugged unhappily, disappointment clear in the gesture. “I don't know, Epi. I wish I did.” It was incredibly disheartening. I'd thought finally knowing the sigil's meaning would give me some insight, some knowledge of what was going on. Yet I was no closer to answers than I'd been before. This sigil meant something; I was convinced it wouldn't appear persistently if there weren't a reason for it. But I didn't have a damn clue as to what it was.

  Until I did understand, I knew I couldn't do anything to save my friends. My nerves were on edge, the spirits had been urging me to travel to Romania and attempt a rescue from the very beginning. Epi and Conal were adamantly against any rescue attempt until we had all the information we could acquire. Epi insisted I just wasn't ready, maintaining it was imperative that every minute before I turned twenty-one be used to increase my skills. It was pissing me off, and it was definitely pissing Nick Lingard off. He rang every day, waiting for some news on what was happening, what we were doing. And every day I was fobbing him off. At least now, he knew the whole story, although I wasn't certain he'd believe it until he'd seen my abilities for himself.