“You will,” I promised.
Nonny appeared from the back of the Church, dressed in a bright yellow peasant skirt and a white boat-necked shirt, her hair plaited and laying against her back. She'd been reading to Katie, helping the young girl settle off to sleep after feeding her macaroni cheese for dinner. Conal had collected her when we knew Nick had brought Katie with him, suggesting she would be good with the little girl. Much to my delight she had been, taking the traumatized little girl under her wing and helping to settle her in this strange place. Nonny was a natural with Katie, helping her to feel comfortable in strange surroundings and making her feel a little more secure being surrounded by virtual strangers. My heart ached for her, knowing she was frightened and worrying about William and Gwynn. Not only them, but everyone else, the people she thought of as family.
Epi had grumbled a little about his home being turned into a refuge, but I'd noticed after Nick and I came back from our walk that the room he'd given Katie had been transformed into a beautiful bedroom for a little girl, with teddies, toys and a pretty coverlet on the bed.
“How is she?” I asked anxiously.
“She's sleeping now. I won't stay out here long, I think I should be with her in case she wakes up,” Nonny said cheerfully.
“Thank you, Mrs. Tremaine,” Nick said and it was easy to see he was relieved that Nonny had taken on babysitting Katie. He'd taken responsibility for the little girl, but it was obviously far out of his comfort zone to be responsible for a four year old child.
“Call me Nonny,” Nonny said firmly. “Everybody does.”
“Nonny,” Nick repeated, with an uncertain smile. He glanced across at me and I could see the pain in his eyes. “I don't know what the hell I'm going to do if we don't get them back, Charlotte. What in Christ's name can I tell Katie, if her family gets killed?”
I put a reassuring hand on Nick's shoulder. “We'll get them back, Nick. We're going to bring them home.”
Chapter 39: Plans
I was sitting on the carpet in Conal's apartment, cross-legged with my hands resting lightly on my knees. This meditative posture helped me to relax and speak to the spirits and as the days passed, I was spending more and more time like this, gleaning what information I could.
There was only a week left; seven days before I would turn twenty one and I was growing increasingly frustrated with our lack of progress. We'd made advancements with regards to fighting - Epi continued to train all of us daily, the demons he produced growing bigger, uglier and stronger. A small smiled flickered against my lips as I recalled the look on Nick, Rafe and Marco's faces when they'd first seen one - I imagined it was remarkably similar to the look on my face the first time Epi had subjected Conal and I to the Valafar. To give the Lingard men their due respect, they attacked with courage and tenacity and their ability to fight off attacks was increasing every day.
My nightmares continued unabated, the Tines were growing weaker and the spirits continued to reinforce my awareness of the fact during my waking hours. I knew they couldn't survive without blood and their ancestors had made it very clear that they were being starved to death by the Consiliului. Although the knowledge of their suffering was enough to encourage me to leave without delay, I knew in my heart that Epi's objections to us leaving immediately were valid.
The warlock insisted I should be as close to my birthday as possible, ensuring I would be stronger psychically than the other Angel child because I'd been allowed to mature. But his creation to vampire meant he would be physically stronger than me and he wouldn't be my only opponent. We had no idea how many vampires were ensconced in the Drâghici's stronghold and didn't know how many more they could marshal.
We were dealing with too many unknowns and it was causing our little group to become edgy and uncooperative with one another. Nick and his men wanted to leave at once, they were spoiling for a fight and wanted to battle the Consiliului head on. Conal was insisting on taking as many of his pack with him as we could, believing that numbers equaled strength. Epi was calling for calm, doing his utmost to stop us from losing focus on the task at hand.
And I was feeling distanced, certain that once again, there was something I was missing. If we arrived in Sfantu Drâghici and launched a full-frontal assault, the Consiliului would have the Tines killed immediately. I was convinced they would have taken precautions against an attack in large numbers and would have enough people in their retinue to defend themselves.
And we couldn't take huge numbers with us, because I didn't know how we were going to get there. Epi assured me he would get us there, but he hadn't divulged how he was going to do it. I didn't imagine it was going to involve a plane. Each time I questioned Epi about our travel plans, he refused to discuss it, insisting we should concentrate on preparation and worry about travel plans later.
While Nick had only brought two pack members with him, Conal's pack was larger and close at hand - Conal had been horrified when I insisted on only three of them training with us. Conal, Ralph Torres and much to Conal's amazement I'd chosen Phelan Walker. Although he and I had suffered a stormy relationship since we met, I knew he was the right one for the group.
Conal had argued vehemently over only allowing three of his pack to train with us, but I'd insisted on three as the maximum. I knew that historically, shifters and werewolves didn't get along together. It seemed wise to keep the numbers of Nick and Conal's men even, to ensure we didn't run into any problems between the two groups. So far it seemed to be working, Conal and Nick were getting along fine and with the constant reliance on one another whilst training with the demons, the other four men were developing a healthy respect for one another. In the past few days though, there'd been increasing issues as everyone became more tense about our foray into Romania.
I knew numbers wasn't the answer to the dilemma. I didn't know why, but it wasn't going to be the amount of people we took with us, it was going to be something else.
We continued to feed Quinn information, albeit incorrect information, to pass on to the Drâghici Consiliului. Conal had an innate ability for allowing Quinn to believe he was important and doing something useful for the pack, when in fact, he was being led in ever-increasing circles.
I heard a key turn in the lock and released my meditative posture, stretching my legs out in front of me as Conal strode in. “Hi.”
He was filthy, covered in sweat and demon blood, the putrid combination of excrement and rotting meat wafting around him. “Hi, yourself.”
“I take it Epi kept you busy?”
“Yeah. You could say that.” He dropped his keys on the bench and came to meet me in the middle of the living room. “How come the boys and I have to keep training and you don't? It hardly seems fair, given you're the Angel,” he grumbled, though there was distinct twinkle in his black eyes.
“I think Epi thinks my efforts need to be devoted to a more… spiritual level.”
“Well we could have done with you being there,” Conal admitted with a grimace.
“Why? What happened?”
Conal pushed his hair back from his face distractedly. “We can't kill the demons.”
“What?” I raised my head to look at him sharply, alarmed by the statement. “What do you mean, you can't kill the demons?”
Conal's expression was serious, his black eyes filled with concern. “We can damage them, make them bleed, if that black shit can be called blood. Weaken them, I guess. But we can't complete the final blow to send them back to the Otherworld. Epi had to intervene and send them back himself.”
I took a minute to process what he was saying, the realization of what it meant hitting like a physical blow. “It's because… oh, shit.”
Conal finished the thought for me. “Epi believes they can only be killed by the weapons. The weapons that only you can use,” he announced.
I breathed deeply, trying to rationalize what he was saying. Knowing it meant we had a massive problem. “Well, there's nothing we can do about it n
ow,” I finally announced. “We have to concentrate on rescuing the Tines and then we'll work out a solution.” I managed a faint smile, trying to convey confidence I certainly didn't feel.
Conal raised an eyebrow. “The Tines?”
I shrugged sheepishly. “I can't figure out what to call them. They feel like family, but they're not really. I'm sick of saying Lucas… and the others. They're the Tine Kiss, so I guess I figure the Tines works on a group level.”
Conal grinned and then saw the worry in my eyes. “It'll be okay, Sugar. Epi'll figure something out - he usually does.” He leaned forward to kiss me, but I ducked away.
“No way. Go and have a shower, then I'll think about it.”
“Chicken.” He turned and headed down the hallway, tearing off his ruined shirt as he went. “I'll be glad when all this is over and I can stop stinking like rotting meat.”
I watched his retreating form, admiring the muscles flexing in his back and his tight ass as I slipped back into my position on the floor. Uneasiness gripped me when I had to force my eyes away from him. Not good, definitely not good to start considering how I looked at Conal when we were about to rescue Lucas. Nick's disapproval of our living arrangements was already obvious, his body language letting me know he didn't like it. He also didn't like the way Conal and I looked at one another, the way we touch and hugged one another instinctively. Nick hadn't said anything, but I'd seen him watching us and knew he didn't like it. If he didn't like it, how on earth was Lucas going to feel if we managed to rescue him? I pushed the thought away, only to have panic bubble up as I considered the werewolves and shape shifters being unable to kill the demons, further eroding my already fragile confidence. Okay, don't panic. This is just another couple of problems we need to tackle, I told myself sternly. I pushed these latest dilemmas to the back of my mind and returned to my more pressing crisis - rescuing the Tines.
Conal was just as frustrated by our lack of action as everybody else, but he believed in me and had more faith than the others. He held an unswerving belief in the fact that I knew what I was doing. A wave of nausea filled my stomach, wondering if he should believe in me with so much conviction. Seven days out from my birthday, I doubted myself. Could I do this? Drops of perspiration broke out across my forehead and I mentally shook myself. I had to do this. There was no choice. I was Nememiah's Child and I had an obligation to rescue the Tines and stop the Drâghici Consiliului from carrying out their plans.
The relationship between Conal and I had settled into a comfortable, easy pattern. He knew what he would do when this was over and I knew what I wanted. We still slept together every night, Conal's arms wrapped around me, but we both accepted it could go no further. I did love Conal, but I loved Lucas more. It was Lucas that I hoped to spend the rest of my life with - if he still wanted me. Conal and I shared a physical relationship of hugs and kisses for now, but that was all it would be. Conal would find someone suitable to marry and I wanted to be with Lucas. If we were still alive to have a future, the niggling voice in my head reminded me.
With a sigh, I placed my hands against my knees, deliberately easing the strain out of my muscles and returned to the spirits.
I could converse with numerous voices in unison now. Whereas in months past it had been a confused jumble in my mind, now the spirits worked with me, rather than overwhelming me. I drew Mom, Lady Wadsworth, Galen and Lyell together and they stood side by side. “Tell me what I need to do,” I pleaded. I can't do this on my own."
Mom looked unhappy, sadness and worry etched in pretty features which were usually so serene. “We can't tell you, Charlotte. You must work it out for yourself.”
“You have the answer in your heart, Charlotte. It's been there all the time,” Galen responded. He was dressed in the religious tunic he always wore, with one hand clasping the opposite wrist. “You know what you need to do. You have to embrace it.”
“Shouldn't it be easier than this? I'm so close, I've learned everything -done everything you've asked of me. I worked out what the Drâghici are doing. If I'm so good, and they're so evil, why can't you tell me what to do to defeat them?”
“Evil and good. Darkness and light,” Mom said. “There is no true evil, there is no true good. You killed your stepfather, to avenge me.”
“Because he killed you, and my sisters and brother,” I yelled back angrily. “He was evil, because of what he did to you all!”
“It's not that simple, Charlotte. Yes, he was evil, because of the crimes he committed. But your siblings; were they evil? Because they were spawned by evil, does that make them automatically evil also?” Lady Wadworth asked quietly, fingering the cartwheel ruff at her throat.
I considered her words, studying the concept in my mind. My siblings weren't evil, they had been young and innocent. And yet, they'd been spawned by someone evil. Did that mean they were good, or bad? Good, of course. But would they be good always? Although they'd been fathered by a man whom I'd abhorred, they could have gone either way as they approached adulthood. They could have elected to become solid, respectable member of the community. Or they could have grown into a likeness of their father; vicious, cold-blooded - a murderer. Out of the blue, I realized with clarity what I was being told. Nobody is truly evil, nobody is truly good. It's the choices we make, the paths we choose, that make us who we are. I'd killed my stepfather. Did that make me evil? No. It was the choices I'd made which led me to being the person I was now. I knew in my heart that I was firmly on the side of right, in a war over right and wrong. But how did all this help me?
The spirits were edging forward, their demeanor excited. There was an air of expectation surrounding them, eagerness in their expressions which suggested I was close, very close to the answer I was seeking. “Charlotte, the answers you seek are right before you. And only you. You must think this through, only with one mind,” Lady Wadworth implored.
“Others can help you, but you must take the first step alone,” Lyell urged. “All decision, all paths in life are taken with one step, one person alone.”
I snapped my eyes open, knew they were bright as the solution suddenly dawned on me. The spirits evaporated into so much mist and I stood up hastily, pacing back and forth while I thought through their counsel.
I knew the answer.
Chapter 40: Confessions
Conal lay in bed with me, lying on his side, he had one arm in his usual protective stance around my body, the other fisted against his chin. He leaned down to kiss me softly, his eyes warm but troubled. “Are you absolutely sure?”
“Yes.” I reached up to touch his face, running my fingers across his cheek. “I know this is what we're meant to do.”
“Pray tell - how are we going to do this?” he asked. “What you're suggesting, how do we know it's even possible?” His voice had an air of uncertainty in it and I leaned up to kiss him.
“Trust me, there must be a way. Epi will know it.” I was uncompromising in my belief that Epi could do what I needed. If anybody could do it, he could. It would involve magic and Epi was a master. At least, that was my fervent wish.
“Alright. We'll talk to him in the morning,” Conal stated, putting his trust in me once again. I hugged him close, excited that I'd finally discovered what it was I'd been looking for. I raised my mouth to his and kissed him, with far more enthusiasm than was probably wise.
“Hey, ease up,” he grumbled softly, when I dropped back against the pillows. “You'll get me on the wrong track again. A man only has so much self-control.”
“Sorry,” I made a face.
“It's okay. He rolled onto his back, staring up at the ceiling.”It's been a while for me; sometimes I get overwhelmed with those lustful thoughts. Particularly when you throw yourself at me."
“Well, I guess that makes two of us. I've never done it before.”
He rolled back to gaze down at me, surprise registering in his eyes. “Never?” he echoed huskily.
I shook my head, the heat of a blush coloring
my cheeks. “Lucas had control issues. Passion and biting apparently go hand in hand when you're a vampire.”
Conal squeezed his eyes shut. “Too much information. I don't think I want to hear this.”
“Okay, I won't tell you then.” I settled against his chest and he draped his arm around my back. For a long time, there was silence between us.
“So you've never had someone make love to you?” he queried in a low voice.
“Nope.”
He rolled back over, drawing me gently with him so we were face to face. “You know, we could both get killed. If you want to try it once before you die, I'd be honored…”
“Conal,” I interrupted gently, “you know that's a really bad idea.” I touched his cheek, brushing my fingers across his strong jaw as he gazed at me.
“I know,” he replied huskily. “But if I thought you'd be willing, I'd do it in a second.” He leaned forward, caught my lips against his and his tongue probed my mouth gently and thoroughly. I kissed him back, couldn't not do it and the kiss was gentle, filled with a world of words and emotions. When he released me, his eyes were filled with tenderness, so much so that it made my chest ache. “I've never wanted anyone as much as I want you.”
I bit my lip, fully aware of the desire stirring in my groin as I fought with myself. I loved him. I wanted him, probably as much as he wanted me. And I didn't have a clue what would happen when I saw Lucas again. Despite my firm resolve to rescue him, I wasn't even sure he would want me anymore. I'd left him nearly five months ago. He might have moved on with someone else. Just the thought of him being with another woman filled me with envy and I knew I loved him as much today as I had when I walked out all those months ago. But maybe he'd moved on, found someone else. It would be entirely reasonable after I left and never contacted him again. I guess I could have asked Nick or Rafe and they could have told me, but I hadn't asked. I didn't want to know.
Knowledge Quickening (The Nememiah Chronicles Book 2) Page 30