Knowledge Quickening

by D. S. Williams

  “So if they kill off all the people who have mixed blood…”

  “…they decimate my pack.”

  “And every other pack that they attack.” I tapped my fingers anxiously against the bench top. “I think that's their plan. They're intending to kill everyone who has mixed blood and take control of what's left.” I stopped tapping and stared at Conal. “They're going to start a war.”

  Conal rubbed a hand over his stubbled jaw. “How do Nememiah's Children fit into this?”

  “Epi said the Angel children were placed on earth to keep the peace between the supernatural groups.”

  Conal shook his head. “Sounds great in theory, Charlotte. In case you haven't noticed, there's only one Nememiah's Child and that's you.”

  Another piece slipped into place. The man I'd been seeing in the nightmares, the one who looked so familiar. Was he something to do with Nememiah's Children? Or was he just a figment of an overwrought imagination?

  I paced some more, calling on the spirits as I walked back and forth. I asked questions that I intuitively knew would be answered now. It seemed for each step of headway I made through the puzzle, the spirits would allow a little more information. I'd finally deduced the reasoning behind the vampire council attacking the werewolves, so the spirits were prepared to share a little more of their knowledge.

  Conal stood patiently and watched me pace, waves of tension emanating from his body. When I stopped and turned to him, I could see the animal-like stillness in his body as he waited for me to speak.

  “We need to go and see Epi.”

  Chapter 36: Another

  Epi threw open the door after I'd banged on it continually for almost five minutes. He peered around the door from behind his round glasses, his eyes appearing much larger than they actually were. “You're late,” he muttered mutinously. “And stop banging on my door like that.”

  I pushed impatiently at the door, nearly knocking Epi off his feet as Conal and I strode into the hushed church. “Epi, tell me about Angel reproduction again,” I demanded.

  “Pardon me?” Epi took his glasses from his bulbous nose, wiping them carefully on the faded grey tunic he wore. He replaced them, adjusting them on the bridge of his nose and stared at me intently. “You aren't thinking about having a child? Now?”

  I shook my head, impatient with him. “Epi, this is important. You said that if I stay as I am until my birthday, I can't be changed – not into a werewolf or vampire.”

  “That's correct.”

  “You also said that no matter whom I'm… with, the baby will always take after me, it will have Angel blood. Is that right?”

  “Yes, of course.” Epi glanced from my face, with my flushed cheeks and bright eyes to Conal, who was looking thunderous. “What is this about?”

  I crossed my arms and looked at the tiny old man, wondering if he had the answers I sought. Speculating if I could possibly be right. “How many Nememiah's Children are there?”

  “Only you.”

  “Are you positive?” I stared at him, willing him to think carefully about what he knew.

  “Well, yes.” He scratched the top of his head thoughtfully. “I should think so. I haven't heard about any others, it took years to discover you and even then, it was completely astounding.” He returned my stare, his gaze becoming shrewd. “Where are you headed with this, child?”

  “What if there were two?” I questioned. “A girl… and a boy.”

  Epi rubbed his chin thoughtfully, blue eyes darting back and forth over the stone floor as he considered. “Well, that would only happen if the world faced an apocalyptic event, I should imagine. Nememiah's Children were first created from one male and one female. They mated and produced the first true bloods of the Angels… oh… oh dear. I see where you are headed with this line of thought… yes, yes indeed…” He turned and ran towards his bookcases, climbing the tall, rolling ladder he reached towards the uppermost shelves, muttering under his breath and retrieving books before sliding down the ladder in a rush. He dumped the pile of books he'd collected on the table and began to rifle through them, muttering under his breath all the while. “Here! Here it is!” He read an excerpt from one of the books he'd collected. “…and Nememiah created the man Angel and the woman Angel, and they begat a race of powerful Angel progeny, who would protect the earth and rule those upon it, both man and underworlders…”

  Dizziness swamped me in a wave and I swayed a little. Conal caught my arm and pulled me against him, wrapping his other arm around my shoulders. “Steady, Sugar.”

  “Epi.” Comprehension and dread filled my mind in equal parts. “I'm not a descendant of Nememiah's Children, am I? I'm the new beginning of Nememiah's Children.”

  “We can't be certain of that,” Epi warned. “You may still be a descendant of the originals.”

  “But to create a new race of Angel children…”

  “…you would need a male and a female,” Conal finished the sentence.

  “But there is only you, child,” Epi protested, his eyes wide.

  “What if there isn't? What if there is a man and a woman? What would happen if the Drâghici Vampire Council captured two Nememiah's Children – a man and a woman? And created them both as vampires?” I asked shakily.

  “Goodness. Goodness gracious. I'm not sure. Let me think.” Epi took to pacing across the floor, muttering to himself and using his index finger to make imaginary notes in the air in front of him. “Yes, I think that would be right, though it's hard to be certain… it would be an unprecedented event—” He stopped pacing and turned back to us. “Vampires cannot procreate. Every new vampire is created by the bite of another. But the mixture of Angel blood and vampire blood, whilst it is hard to be entirely certain – I'm only surmising the possibilities – it may be that they could procreate; the Angel blood being the stronger of the two.”

  “And the children would have Angel blood and vampire blood,” I whispered, doing some mental calculations of my own. “Which is technically demon blood.”

  “So the offspring would be able to call the spirits,” Conal added, “because they have Angel blood—”

  “Not just any spirits,” Epi interrupted, his face considerably paler than it had been a few minutes before. “Charlotte hears and contacts, for lack of a better phrase, the 'good' spirits. The bright spirits. She has no contact with demon spirits because she is human. If she was to be bitten and created into vampire, if there is a second of Nememiah's Children and he was also created…” He grew even paler. “They and any offspring they produce would have the ability to call the demon spirits forth whenever they wanted to. They could amass a force so formidable; nothing like it has been seen in our time.”

  “That's what the vampires want,” I stated with conviction. “To gain absolute control over not only vampires, but warlocks, shape shifters,” I glanced at Conal, seeing the tension in his shoulders. “And werewolves.”

  “And faeries,” Epi added.

  I gaped at him incredulously. “Faeries?”

  “Of course. The Fey folk are part of the earth, too,” Epi stated matter-of-factly. “They tend to be secretive and don't mix with others.”

  Conal squeezed my arm softly. “Guess you hadn't heard about them?”

  “Uh, no.” In recent weeks, I hadn't thought anything could surprise me. After everything I'd seen and heard, I'd thought I was unshakeable. But faeries? “Are they like the storybooks? Tiny, wings, pointed ears?”

  “Nuh. More like our height, nasty temperaments, vicious fighters,” Conal responded with a smirk. “They do have pointed ears, though.”

  I turned back to the matter at hand, pushing the idea of faeries away, to be thought about later. If there was a later, I reminded myself morosely. The more information I gleaned about our situation, the worse it seemed. The thought of what the Drâghici Council intended to do was inconceivable. It made perfect sense though, explaining the attacks on the werewolves, the kidnapping of Lucas and the others. The Drâ
ghici Council was using them as bait. They must be banking on a rescue attempt being made and assumed I would be involved with it. Once I was there— the thought made me tremble and I was chilled all the way to my bones. The thing I feared the most was now a distinct possibility – if they got hold of me, there was no doubt they would create me as vampire. And wanted me to mate with this other Angel. I promised myself that it would never happen. I would rather die first.

  “Why do you think there might be a male Angel child?” Epi asked curiously, drawing me from my silent deliberations.

  “I'm sure I've seen him,” I stated bleakly. “He keeps appearing in my nightmares.” I looked from Conal to Epi. “He's already been created as vampire.”

  Epi walked slowly to the couch and sunk onto it, holding his head in his hands. Conal held me closer to his chest, his hands soothing against my back. “Are you sure?” he began doubtfully. “You've said so yourself, the nightmares contain elements of reality and imagination.”

  “I can't tell you how I know, but I know, Conal,” I insisted firmly.

  “She may be right,” Epi agreed. “The decision of the Drâghici Council to take control of all supernatural creatures would be the type of catastrophic event which could cause the creation of two Angel children.” He dragged himself to his feet, returning to the book he'd been reading from and it looked as if he'd aged a thousand years in the past few minutes. “Nememiah's Children were originally created to procreate and produce progeny who would in turn procreate and create other Angel Children to protect the world from danger.” He turned the page, reading more before he continued. “It would appear that Charlotte was predestined to meet the man, fall in love, and create Angel children. For some reason, unknown to us, it has not happened. The course of history has been circumvented in some manner, to veer them off on entirely different paths.”

  “And the bloodsuckers have gotten hold of this male Angel,” Conal surmised.

  “Yes,” Epi agreed worriedly. “It would appear so. This is bad. Very bad.”

  “Well,” I announced with a conviction I didn't feel. “We're just going to have to turn it around.”

  Chapter 37: Reinforcements

  Nick was sitting on the couch, dressed casually in black jeans and a blue t-shirt, the only sign of his emotions was in the coldness of his grey eyes. He'd arrived a couple of hours ago, along with Rafe, Marco and Katie. Nonny had taken the little girl out into the grounds behind the church and was helping her to draw using provisions Epi had magically created.

  We'd discussed everything we knew so far, bringing the men up to speed and on Nick's insistence, giving him the opportunity to see how far my powers had progressed since I left Montana. He seemed to have gotten over blaming me for the kidnapping, although certainly he was cooler than he'd been before I left Montana. I couldn't blame him, Lucas was his friend and I'd abandoned Lucas – it was hardly surprising that Nick had taken his side.

  “So let me get this straight,” Nick announced when I took a break from explanations. “The vamps already have one Angel, who's been created to vampire?”

  “Yep.” I was sitting cross-legged on the floor, where I'd been perched since we began talking.

  “And they want you, to complete their set?”

  “Yes.”

  Nick sat forward on the couch, looking much older than his twenty-five years. “Then we go alone, Charlotte. I'm not taking the risk of you being captured and created. From what Epimetheus says, that would be a disaster.”

  “I've already told her that,” Conal said seriously. He was standing behind the couch, leaning his hands on the back of the frame.

  I felt like screaming and controlled the urge with difficulty. Why were men so awkward? Conal, Epi and I had argued this point for days, the two men trying to convince me it would be a bad idea for the only surviving pure Angel child to travel to Romania. I'd argued just as vehemently that I had no choice except to go. I repeated this argument to Nick, but from the stubborn look in his eyes, it was going to be an uphill battle. “If I don't go, they'll kill them. Everything they're planning hinges on me. If you turn up and attempt to rescue the Tines, they'll kill them the second they realize I'm not there.”

  Nick was shaking his head, even before I'd finished speaking. “You've got no fighting experience, Charlotte. You'll be more of a hindrance than a help and I'd rather not have to worry about protecting your ass.”

  I bristled angrily. “You've just seen me fight!”

  “In controlled conditions, sure. Some of it was even impressive. But I'm not risking myself or my people on you, not when—” he trailed off, rubbing a hand across the scar on his cheek.

  “Not when what?” I questioned coldly.

  “Nothin',” Nick muttered.

  I got to my feet and from my peripheral vision; I saw Marco and Rafe exchange a glance. Marco's eyes widened and Rafe shook his head imperceptibly. I didn't know what the look meant, but Rafe stood up. He was six feet five inches tall, powerfully and leanly muscled and moved like a sleek cat, which was a clue to his shape shifted form of lion, the only one in Nick's pack. With startling blue eyes and shaggy dark blonde hair, he was dressed in black – black jeans, a black singlet and wearing a black leather jacket over the top, sunglasses pushed back on his head. He looked every inch the bodyguard, a job he'd worked at since he left home at seventeen.

  As Rafe drew himself up, Conal straightened and pushed away from the couch. The air suddenly seemed a little harder to breathe, as they both flexed their supernatural clout at one another and the feeling only increased when Nick growled low in his throat.

  “Enough, gentlemen!” Epi announced loudly. “There is no room here for egos or competition.”

  “Tell that to the Were,” Rafe growled.

  “You stood up first,” Conal retorted.

  For a tense moment, the two men glared at one another, but it was Nick who spoke. “Rafe.” His voice was quiet, but firm and Rafe glanced at him. As I watched, the tension slipped from Rafe's shoulders and he settled back onto the chair.

  Conal's energy dissipated as rapidly as it had appeared and he glanced at me, his expression giving nothing away. This left me still seething, and looking for a fight. I knew Rafe had intended to protect Nick, Conal had intended on protecting me, but I was still angry with Nick. I turned back to him and crossed my arms over my chest. “Say what you mean, Nick. Let's get it out of the way now, before I send you and your men back to Montana.”

  Nick's gaze was measured as he looked up at me. “I'm not going back without rescuing them.”

  “Well I don't need you here.”

  Nick stood up, using his extra height to glare down at me. I stood my ground, giving him just as good a stare as he was giving me. He flickered some of his own considerable power over my skin, making the hairs on my arms stand on end, but I wasn't backing down.

  “I have to go, Nick. Whether you like me or hate me, I don't really give a damn, but I'm going to Romania. You either work with me, or you can go to hell.”

  His lip curled into a snarl which was more wolf than human; his eyes darkening to a stormy gray. “You're a stubborn bitch.”

  “Thanks.”

  For a few more tension-filled seconds, he continued to glare at me, but then he inhaled sharply, letting the breath leave his lips in a huff. He inclined his head towards the door. “Let's you and I go for a walk.”

  “Nick—” Rafe began.

  “Stay here,” Nick ordered. “Charlotte's right. We need to clear the air and get some things sorted out.”

  Now it was Conal's turn to protest. “Charlotte, I'm not letting him be with you alone.”

  I laid a hand on his shoulder. “I'll be fine, Conal.”

  The muscle in his jaw tightened, his black eyes hard. “Half an hour, Charlotte. Then I'm coming after you.”

  “I'll look after her, Were.”

  “That's debatable,” Conal muttered.

  “Shut up, both of you,” I grumbled. I headed
towards the door, leaving Nick to follow in my wake. “Are you coming, or not?”

  He'd caught up by the time I reached the heavy gate, pushing it open and stepping back to the side. “After you.”

  I strode through, feeling the heat of the day beating against my back. It was still sultry in Jackson and I wondered how Nick was coping with the difference in temperature and humidity to Montana. Like the werewolves, shape shifters ran at a higher temperature than humans did, but in his jeans and t-shirt, he didn't look hot.

  We walked in silence for a few minutes and I took to counting the weeds, which spread up through the cracks in the sidewalk. Fighting for life in such difficult conditions, yet they stood tall and straight in the shimmering heat, seemingly capable of surviving the furnace-like conditions. I wasn't going to be the one to break the silence between us, although I could feel the tension emanating from Nick's body – he'd started this and he could continue it.

  “You nearly destroyed Lucas.”

  Out of all the things I'd expected him to say, his opening volley nearly dropped me to my knees. I was aware, so very aware of how badly Lucas would have been hurting after I left – I had felt a comparable pain. Hearing Nick say it openly just rubbed salt into the still-open wounds.

  Nick stopped walking, his eyes flickering over my face and his gray eyes softened, making him look younger. “I'm sorry. That was harsh.”

  I inhaled heavily, chewing on my upper lip. “But true.”

  “Why'd you do it, Charlotte?”

  I turned on him, abruptly angry and defensive. “Did you see what I did to him? To Holden?”

  Nick shrugged, hooking his fingers in the pockets of his jeans. “They healed, Charlotte. They've vamps.”

  I shook my head. “I was frightened, Nick. Frightened of what I'd done and how I'd done it.” I turned and kept walking down the sidewalk, not really caring if he followed or not. What was I supposed to say? How could I explain how terrified I'd been of the power, what it might do if I let it loose again?