Knowledge Quickening (The Nememiah Chronicles Book 2)

by D. S. Williams

  But was all that reason enough to let Conal make love to me? What would Lucas think if he did want me back? Sleeping in the same bed with Conal and kissing him was entirely different to having sex with him. Lucas might be able to forgive me for what I was doing now, but I wasn't certain he could forgive me for having sex with another man.

  But Conal was right, we could die in the attempt to rescue the Tines. Did I want to die without ever experiencing a man making love to me?

  “You're taking a while to think about this,” Conal remarked quietly, rubbing his fingers across my shoulder. “Should I take that as a positive sign?”

  I ran my fingers through his hair, treasuring the soft and silky feel against my skin as I struggled with a decision. “I wish I could say yes, Conal. Part of me wants to, so badly, you wouldn't believe it.”

  He kissed me softly, his lips just a tender sweep against my own. “Oh, I think I would.”

  “I want you to make love to me, I really do. But it's the wrong place and the wrong time. And I'm not a werewolf,” I reminded him.

  “I don't care. I'd give up the pack for you.”

  “You don't mean that.”

  I saw the struggle in his eyes, before he squeezed them tightly shut and shook his head. “You're right. I can't give up the pack.”

  “So making love would be a really bad idea. I'm still in love with another man and you need to marry a werewolf.”

  “You know, we could make love just for the hell of it,” he suggested, rubbing a finger down my arm and making me shiver. “One night, no ties, no recriminations. Nobody needs to know, except you and me.”

  “No.” I punched his chest sharply. "I would know about it, and it might mess up our relationship completely.

  He stared at me for a long moment. “You're right, and I know you'll go back to the bloodsucker. It's what you were always going to do. You love him, Charlotte, more than you will ever love anyone else.”

  I lowered my gaze, battling with my insecurities. “I'm not even sure he'll want me back,” I admitted. “We've been separated for months.”

  Conal looked stunned for a second, then recovered his composure and forced his face to relax into a more neutral expression. “Are you kidding? I saw the way he looked at you, Sugar. He loves you and I don't doubt that he will always love you.”

  “I'm not so sure,” I whispered, tears filling my eyes.

  Conal clasped me close to his chest, his fingers brushing through my hair as he spoke. “He still loves you, I'm certain of it.” He was silent for a minute, letting me cry before he released me with a gentle pat on the shoulder and slipped from the bed. He strode over to the wooden dresser, opening the bottom drawer and searching for a few minutes before he returned to the bed with an envelope in his hand. “I never got around to getting rid of this. I figured one day, you might want to read it,” he admitted gruffly.

  It was the letter from Lucas, the one that had been in the packing boxes when I moved to Jackson and Lucas had forwarded my belongings. I stared at it, my hands shaking as I wavered about what to do.

  “Read it, Charlotte,” Conal stated quietly.

  “What if he tells me he never wants to see me again?”

  “Then you'll know. One way or the other.” He touched my arm softly, leaned over to kiss me. “I'm going to make coffee. Give you some privacy.”

  He slipped from the room, leaving me alone. I stared down at the envelope, ran my fingers over the elegant copperplate writing on the envelope. It was addressed simply to 'Charlotte'.

  Taking a deep breath, I flipped it over and ran my finger under the flap, tearing it open before I pulled the sheet of paper out. Unfolding it with shaking hands, I stared at it for a long moment before I began to read.

  Charlotte,

  As I write this, I keep my promise to you, although the pain in my chest is never ending and engulfs me constantly. Every day seems to last an eternity as I struggle to exist without you. But I made you a promise, and I will keep my end of the bargain.

  My heart may have stopped beating more than a century ago, but whilst I was with you it truly felt as if it had begun to beat again. I've never felt more alive than I did with you.

  Rowena and Marianne have packed your belongings, we have accepted your decision to leave, although I myself must admit I will never come to terms with it.

  I don't blame you, love. What happened was something I had feared from the first day I met you. You are right to fear me and my friends, we are dangerous and your reaction to Holden's attack was entirely understandable. It reinforced to me that your blood awakens feelings in me that are impossible to ever fully control. It is safer for you to be away from me. And yet I wish with all my being that it was different.

  I wish you every happiness in your future, my love. I wish you love and joy, and a life filled with contentment.

  You will remain in my heart always, and my love will never fade. How can it fade, when you were my light, my joy, my reason for existence in this world?

  Yours eternally,

  Lucas

  I read and reread the letter a dozen times, tears running down my cheeks and dripping onto the sheets, leaving damp spots.

  Conal knocked quietly and slipped into the room. “Do you want to be alone?”

  I shook my head, wiping the tears away with the back of my hand.

  Conal strode across the room and slipped into the bed, drawing me into his arms. “Was I right?”

  I nodded. “But that was a long time ago.”

  Conal sighed. “For someone who wants to make love to you so badly, I must be a fool for admitting this.” He caught my chin against his thumb and drew my face up till I was looking at him. “He loves you, Charlotte. He has always loved you. He will always love you.”

  “You really think so?”

  “Absolutely,” Conal stated confidently. “Although if we manage to rescue him, there's a good chance the bloodsucker won't even recognize you.”

  I narrowed my eyes, choosing to ignore the degrading nickname. “Why?”

  Conal sighed. “You're a different girl to the one I first met. You were so lost, so alone. Directionless. Now you're full of confidence, some might say overconfident…”

  I slapped his arm and in response, he pulled me closer, his arms capturing mine in an iron grip.

  “You don't seem to see it, Charlotte,” he stated seriously. “I've noticed it, Nick and his men have, and even Epi says you've changed. Everything about you - it's changed. You know who you are, you go after what you want. You have self-control which would be surprising in someone twice your age. And it's not only mental changes, it's physical. You look,” he glanced down at my face, his eyes filled with admiration, “… ethereal.”

  “Guess that's the part of me that's Angel,” I whispered.

  Conal grinned. “Well, that may be, but the body is definitely all devil. You are absolutely smoking hot.”

  I blushed, heat rushing up to color my cheeks. I could see the changes in my body, knew the continual activity had made some outstanding changes to my anatomy. Suddenly I was even more worried. “You don't think Lucas will like it?”

  Conal growled, deep in his chest and caught my mouth against his for a brief kiss. “Trust me, he's going to love it.”

  Chapter 41: Sfantu Drâghici

  Epi was hovering, watching as I marked sigils on my skin, his small figure a bundle of nervous energy. “That one should go there. Near your heart.” He pointed to my chest, above my left breast.

  I followed his instructions, feeling amazingly calm for a woman who was about to head into battle. The majority of our plan was in place, the only thing left to do was complete the sigils on my skin and I'd be ready. The men had already prepared and would be standing by when I called for them. The only adverse part of our plan was not knowing exactly what we'd meet at the other end. Nick had been unable to retrieve any further information about the vampires, so we were going in virtually head blind, other than the limited amo
unt of intelligence we had on the four vampires we had photographs for. There was no choice now - we'd run out of time.

  The backpack I was taking lay by my side, Katie sitting beside it, watching as I worked. Dressed in a pretty red cotton dress with white polka dots, a matching bow pulled her hair into a ponytail. Her eyes were wide and I knew what she was thinking. “It doesn't hurt, Katie,” I reassured her quietly.

  “Will they stay there forever?” She ran her small fingers over one of the numerous marks I'd already completed on my right arm.

  “No, sweetie. They only stay there while I need them. They give me extra special powers.”

  “To save Gwynn and William,” she announced seriously.

  I bit my lip anxiously, glancing away so she wouldn't pick up on the worry in my eyes. “Yeah, sweetie. To save Gwynn and William. I'm going to bring them back for you.” I turned back to my arm when I had my expression under control, continuing the sigil I was working on.

  “Nonny says you an Angel,” Katie stated.

  “I am,” I agreed.

  “Then you'll bring William and Gwynn back. Angels always do good things,” she assured me, her little face solemn.

  “I'm going to do my best,” I promised. I completed the last sigil, high on my shoulder and stowed the Hjördis away in the combat boot I was wearing, making sure it was well hidden below the top of the boot. I stood up, reaching for the jacket that lay on the couch and shrugged it on, zipping it up over the tank top to conceal my skin.

  I picked up the backpack and slung it over my shoulder, turning to look at Epi. “Guess this is it, old man.”

  Nonny ran towards me, tears in her eyes. “Be safe, Charlotte.” She caught me around the waist, hugging me hard against her.

  I hugged the old woman, just as fiercely. “I'll try.”

  Epi caught my hand between his own. “I'll have everything ready for you when you get back,” he said anxiously. “You remember what you have to do to open the portal from that side?”

  I nodded, adjusting the straps on the backpack.

  “Whatever you do, don't let the Consiliului members touch you. We don't know enough about their abilities to be confident they couldn't bespell you, or read your mind through touch.”

  “They could probably do it without touching me,” I muttered.

  “But I believe touch will be worse. Use the spirits for assistance, as I have taught you.”

  Again, I nodded. Taking a deep breath, I turned back to Katie, sympathy welling for the little girl when I saw the look of anguish in her grey eyes. “Give me a good luck kiss, Katie?”

  The little girl flung herself at me, hugging my waist as if she would never let go. I gently disengaged her hands and knelt in front of her. “Be good for Nonny and Epi, okay? Draw me a picture while I'm gone. Something pretty.” She nodded seriously and kissed my cheek.

  “We will look after her,” Nonny promised.

  “I know,” I responded simply. There was no doubt in my mind they would care for Katie while we were gone. And beyond, if things went pear-shaped. I walked with Epi towards the wall of the church, where the bookcases had disappeared, replaced by a large pentagram drawn on the wall. Four of the five corners had been marked with sigils, only the last one still waiting to be completed.

  “Any last minute advice?” I asked Epi.

  “Come back.”

  I grinned, despite my apprehension. “Thanks for that. Good advice, Epi.”

  He completed the pentagram with a sigil I didn't recognize and as I watched, the wall shimmered with golden light. Taking a deep breath, I stepped into the light as Epi had described.

  It was never going to be my favorite form of travel I decided, as I was thrown head first out of the portal, landing on the rough ground and hitting my shoulder hard against the dirt. I felt faintly nauseous, my head filled with the strange streaks of light which had accompanied my journey.

  I got up, checking the backpack was still closed firmly and unzipped my jacket to glance at my shoulder. The jacket had blocked any damage to my skin and I zipped it up firmly again. The last thing I needed before heading into a vampire stronghold was to be bleeding.

  I turned to look at the imposing fortress of Sfantu Drâghici. Situated high on the hills surrounding the town itself, it was both ancient and imposing, with turrets and castellated towers soaring towards the overcast skies.

  As Epi predicted, he'd portalled me to exactly where he intended, a few feet from the walls themselves and hidden from view by a lot of tall vegetation. It had amused the heck out of me when he'd resorted to using Google Earth to pinpoint the exact location he wanted. I stepped out from behind the greenery and strode towards the gates. To my right, a cobblestoned road weaved down towards the town of Sfantu Drâghici and I could see tourists milling around, taking photos of the magnificent castle. A horse clip-clopped towards me, pulling a brightly colored wagon which was filled with day trippers come to visit the historical building. I had to remind myself that they didn't know what lay behind those heavy gates was both dangerous and terrifying. People lined up at a booth by the open gates, purchasing tickets for one of the tours advertised on an ornately decorated sign.

  I didn't bother lining up for a ticket. Two men approached me as I strode through the gates, dressed in identical dark grey suits, sunglasses covering their eyes. Their faces were impassive, but it was evident they'd been on the lookout. One was tall and heavyset, the other smaller and slender, both fair skinned and dark haired. Silently they took up positions on either side of me. I was expected.

  We walked through the crowds of tourists mingling within the castle compound, following a cobblestoned path. Just when I thought I might have to ask them directions, tall and heavyset spoke. “This way.”

  He took the lead and I followed, passing buildings which held a range of typically tourist-like shops. One sold postcards and souvenirs and I spied a little girl holding a snow globe up to her mother which contained a miniature version of the very stronghold we were in. Next door was a coffee shop, visitors sitting and laughing in the weak sunshine. Smaller and slender followed behind, shadowing my every move.

  In the centre of the courtyard, men were performing a re-enactment of a swordfight. Dressed in medieval clothing they were slashing and cutting at one another with very realistic swords. I wondered if they were humans or vampires. Their movements looked too clumsy to be vampire, so I guessed they were human actors. It was disconcerting to know the most powerful vampires in the world were in this castle, where innocent people were milling around and enjoying a day out without a care in the world.

  Tall and heavyset motioned towards a heavily reinforced door which was lodged neatly into a stone arch. The sign beside the door said 'Administration', suggesting it was perfectly innocuous. He pushed open the door and waited for me to pass him before following in behind.

  We entered into a great hallway, with black and white tiles on the floor which looked aged - like hundreds of years aged. The walls were paneled in oak and covered in tapestries which spread across great expanses of the hall. The tapestries depicted battle scenes - men in body armor sat astride equally protected horses, their arms raised with swords held aloft. Another tapestry showed a scene of a man lying across a boulder, a knife piercing his chest, blood dripping towards the grass below him. A third was of men in medieval clothing, clashing with one another on a vast field with swords drawn and shields raised in battle.

  Tall and heavyset silently motioned me towards a second door, holding it open. The contrast was severe, as we left the relatively well-lit great hall and walked down a long hallway, the walls made of the same stone as the outside of the castle. No electric lighting was visible, only flaming torches hung at intervals along the walls to provide pools of flickering light in the darkness. It was ominously quiet, the dark walls cold and dank and my boots echoed sharply on the cobblestoned floor. We reached another door, solid oak with the aged burnish which came from constant use over centuries. Tall and
heavyset pushed it open and I entered another room - which managed to be both elegantly beautiful and garishly ugly. The ceiling was decorated with molded plasterwork, intricately carved ivy leaves draping and coiling around to frame a massive oval centerpiece towering high above the floor. The centerpiece had been exquisitely painted and reminded me of Michelangelo's work in the Sistine Chapel. Along both sides of the room, black marble columns rose skyward, set equal distances apart and I counted twelve to each side. The capital and base of each column was intricately carved, with fretwork decorated with gold. It hovered somewhere between outrageously gaudy and indescribably beautiful.

  Between each column, white marble statues stood on plinths of black, their blank eyes staring towards the grey and white granite floor. Each statue wore a crown of laurel leaves around their heads, decorated with copious amounts of gold. The walls behind the columns were still more white marble, intricately carved with a diamond pattern edged with gold. At the far end of the room, furthest from the door we'd come through, seven high-backed thrones stood on a dais. There was a canopy of dark blue velvet over the dais, decorated with elaborate quantities of gold trim and thick braid, gathered and held across the dais by two slender columns.

  I blinked rapidly, trying to equate the opulence of this room after the starkness of the hallway we'd just left. The room was beautifully gaudy. Ostentatious to the extreme and I decided there and then it was beautiful, but almost to the point of ugliness. It was too much… too much of everything, as if the Drâghici Consiliului wanted to show off their power, their sense of good taste and had overdone it to the nth degree.

  The two men remained silently by the door, closing it as I stepped further into the room.

  Facing the dais were ten wooden chairs - separated into two groups of five with a red carpet runner between them. Plain and unadorned, they were the only furniture in the room which was not gilded and polished to within an inch of its lives and each held a person.