Knowledge Revealed

by D. S. Williams

  I grasped what he was saying. “Florien? He was a vampire?”

  Lucas nodded and looked into my eyes, his expression soft. “He gave me a choice. He told me what he was and that he could attempt to save me, but only if he bit me. He couldn't guarantee he would be successful, warned me there was an extremely high chance he would lose control and drain me. I was weak, so incredibly desperate and I didn't want to die. I wanted to live. So I agreed, despite how little chance there was of survival.”

  I reached out to touch his face, wanting him to know I understood his decision. He captured my hand, kissing my fingers again. “Does it hurt?”

  “The bite was excruciating, even when the paralytic agent we employ began to work, I could still feel the pain.” He shuddered at the memory. “Then there was panic, as I felt my life slipping away. After that…” he shrugged a little, “there was nothing, until I woke beneath the ground and clawed my way out.”

  I lapsed into silence, considering what he'd told me, not wanting to hear what happened next. Trying to imagine what it had been like for him, to be so alone and choose this life, over dying. Wondering what it was like to live for so long.

  “What are you thinking, Charlotte?” Lucas demanded, keeping his voice low.

  I shook my head a little. “I don't know, I guess I'm trying to get my head around the fact you're over one hundred and sixty years old.”

  “Does it bother you?”

  “No!” The response came swiftly. “I don't care how old you are, it's only a number. It's so hard to comprehend though, when you look the way you do.”

  He ran his fingers through my hair; pulling at one dark curl and watching it spring back into shape. “My poor Charlotte. You've had a lot to comprehend in recent weeks.”

  “So you'll never get older?”

  “I've been exactly like this, since 1866,” he admitted. “I'll never get any older. At least, not in physical appearance.”

  “What do you do? How do you fill in all that time?”

  Lucas smiled warmly. “It hasn't been difficult. There's a whole world out there, Charlotte. I've visited many countries, learned new languages. I've served in wars, read books, learned to play musical instruments, and studied. I've learned about philosophy, history, politics, law, genetics, and medicine.”

  “Do you work in Billings?”

  He shook his head. “No, I don't work in Billings. It's a ruse, part of our multifaceted plan to keep people away. My main area of interest is law; I've worked as an attorney for many years in the past. Right now, I'm taking a sabbatical. I may go back to college again, when we move next.”

  “Again?” I repeated faintly. This sounded like a fantasy; nothing he was telling me seemed as if it could possibly be real. It felt as if I'd stepped into the twilight zone, or I'd become Alice and ended up in Wonderland.

  He dropped a gentle kiss against my wrist, brushing his lips tenderly over the scars. “Being twenty-four for many years has its advantages. I have degrees in any number of study areas, because I appear young enough to attend college repeatedly.” Sensing my obvious confusion, he explained more fully. “We have a range of ages we pretend to be. For me, I range between twenty and twenty-eight. It permits us a time settled in one area, then we have to move again, before people notice we're not aging. Ben tends to work between twenty-two and thirty-four, although he pushes the end of the spectrum at thirty-four. His physical age when he became vampire, was twenty-six.”

  “What about—” I blushed and stumbled over the words, wondering if I was being too forward with this line of questioning. “Relationships, people. Haven't you been lonely?”

  “I've had Ben and the others. We've been friends for many years and have come together and lived as we do now, on occasion. Not always, of course, because we are all very individual people and sometimes one or all of us will decide we want our own space. Particularly for those of us in relationships, sometimes they prefer to separate off as a couple and live that way for a while. Then when I am studying, I tend to embrace the college lifestyle, live on campus, and interact with the other students.” He leaned towards me, and I soaked up the tantalizing aroma of his skin. “As for relationships, there have been some in the past. But there has been no one for a considerable period. Until now.” He kissed me softly, but it was all too brief and he leaned back in the chair.

  Relaxing against the pillows, I cherished his last words. I wasn't sure where this was headed, or how we could possibly make it work, but right here and right now – it didn't matter.

  Chapter 11: Generosity

  Another full week passed before Dr. Harding announced I'd recovered enough to leave the bedroom, and with great fanfare, Marianne and Rowena arrived in my room, smiling when they were finally given the go-ahead to bring me downstairs. Rowena assisted with showering and washing my hair, drying it carefully before Marianne helped me put on another pretty negligee, this time with the addition of a silk dressing gown in the palest pink. I wondered where the luxurious sleepwear kept appearing from, but as it delighted Marianne to dress me up and I was enjoying a resurgence of desire to appear attractive, I didn't concern myself overly.

  There was a knock on the bathroom door as I finished brushing my hair and Marianne winked knowingly at me in the mirror's reflection. “Come in, Lucas.”

  “I'll see you downstairs.” Rowena pressed a kiss against my cheek and slipped out past Lucas, followed by Marianne who waggled her eyebrows knowingly.

  Sitting on a chair in front of the vanity, I blushed when Lucas appraised the elegant gown, his eyes tracing a burning path from head to toe. “You look stunning, Charlotte.”

  “Thanks.” The blush grew more heated.

  “Ready to come downstairs?”

  With a nod, I prepared to pull myself onto my feet, but Lucas was at my side immediately, lifting me into his arms.

  “I can walk, you know,” I muttered mutinously.

  “Of course you can, but I'm not taking any risks with the cast on your ankle,” Lucas answered smoothly. I didn't argue, his scent was already sweeping me away and I settled contentedly against his firm chest.

  Lucas carried me cautiously down the elegant wooden staircase and into his living room. He lowered me onto one of the couches and I was delighted when he sat beside me, placing an arm around my shoulders. I relaxed against his chest and looked around at his friends with undisguised interest while Marianne set pillows on the coffee table to rest my ankle on.

  “Are you comfortable?” Lucas murmured against my hair.

  “I'm fine. Are you comfortable?”

  “I'm improving at having you close,” he admitted. “In fact,” he tightened his grip around my shoulders, “I'm beginning to like it, very much.”

  I smiled at him wordlessly and he pressed his lips against my forehead in a tender kiss.

  The entire group was waiting to greet me and I was suddenly apprehensive. As used to being around them as I was, this was the first time I'd been with them en masse and it was a little daunting. Oddly enough, it wasn't because they were vampires, it was more because I felt shy and weird out of my normal surroundings. Spending time with one, or two of them was normal. This definitely wasn't.

  There were new people, too. A couple sat on the couch opposite Lucas and me. The woman was curvaceous; her heart shaped face was accentuated by luminescent pale blue eyes, streaked with silver. Her hair was copper-red and fell in glossy waves halfway down her back. I could only imagine this was Gwynn, whom I'd heard so much about. A man sat beside her, his dark hair closely cropped and his clear grey eyes glittered with silver. Marianne made the introductions. “Lottie, this is William Blackheath and his wife, Gwynn.”

  “Hi,” I greeted them with a nervous little smile.

  “It's a pleasure to meet you, Lottie. Marianne has told us much about you.” His voice was deep and melodious, his grey eyes serious as he gazed at me. “I'm sorry we haven't visited before now. My… capacity for control is not as… well developed. I
haven't been vampire for very long.”

  “I understand.” Whilst William seemed friendly enough, Gwynn barely looked at me and I worried she already disliked me.

  Lucas squeezed my shoulder and I glanced up at him, thankful he was sitting so close. I wondered what constituted 'very long' for a vampire. Something I should ask Lucas when we were alone again, because I was certain it wouldn't be polite to question it now.

  Ben strolled in with a little girl in his arms, startling me. She looked to be about five years old, with dark hair and grey eyes and she was shrieking with delight as Ben dropped her down onto Gwynn's lap. In contrast to her previous coolness, Gwynn smiled warmly at the little girl and cuddled her close. Ben smiled at William and Gwynn. “Have we made introductions?”

  “Yes, we've met Charlotte,” William said. “Charlotte, this is my sister, Katie. She's visiting for the day.”

  “Hi Katie.” I was startled by this admission. If this little girl was William's sister, he hadn't been a vampire for very long at all. Her eyes were normal, no hint of the metallic streaks the others had, which marked them as vampires. Did that mean she was a human child? Surely, it was dangerous for her to be here with a bunch of vampires?

  The little girl looked at me with curiosity in her large gray eyes, and then wriggled on Gwynn's lap, wanting to be released. She scrambled down from the couch and came around the coffee table to stand beside me. “Hello.” With a glance, she took in the plaster casts. “You got hurt?”

  I nodded, enchanted by the little girl. She was such a sweet little thing and reminded me of my sisters. “I'm getting better now.”

  “You Lucas's girlfriend?”

  Blushing, I glanced at Lucas, hesitant to answer her question. Was my status that of girlfriend? We hadn't exactly gotten that far yet, had we?

  “Yes, Katie. Charlotte is my girlfriend,” Lucas said.

  Katie studied me for another minute, her keen gaze not missing a thing. “She's very pretty.”

  Lucas chuckled. “Yes, she is.”

  Seemingly, this discussion was enough for Katie to accept me; she climbed up on the couch beside us and curled her fingers around the cast on my left arm.

  “You've made a friend,” William announced with a warm smile.

  I didn't miss the fact that Gwynn looked as if she'd just sucked a particularly bitter lemon.

  “So, Lott. You managed to avoid Christmas altogether,” Striker announced with a devilish grin, “but it seems that was your plan. Not to worry though, because we kept your presents until you were feeling better.”

  Blushing furiously, I began to protest. “You don't need to give me anything—”

  “Nonsense,” Rowena said. “Lucas is family, and you are with Lucas, which makes you family, too.”

  “We couldn't let Christmas go by without giving you a gift,” William added. He reached across the coffee table, handing me a small rectangular box and I accepted it silently. “This is from Gwynn and me.”

  “I— thank you.” I pulled the lid from the box, discovering it held a gift voucher for an extravagant amount of money, to be used at a dress boutique in Billings. I looked at Gwynn and William, overwhelmed by their generosity when they barely knew me.

  “Marianne seems to be appalled by the state of your wardrobe,” Gwynn said dryly. “She suggested a gift voucher.”

  “Thank you, Gwynn, William,” I responded quietly.

  Rowena stood up and handed me a large box, which had been sitting on the floor by her feet. “This is from Ben and me.”

  “Thank you.” Lucas took the box and balanced it on his lap, while I pulled the lid off. It was filled with art supplies, new tubes of paints in every color and shade, new brushes made of the finest Kolinsky sable; all the equipment I often coveted in the stores but could rarely afford. Tears filled my eyes as I looked first to Rowena and then to Ben. “Thank you so much. I— I really don't know what to say.”

  Rowena leaned over and kissed my forehead, brushing her hand over my head. “You're very welcome. Lucas told us how much you love painting and he thought you could use some new supplies.”

  I peeked back into the box, absolutely delighted and itching to begin using the paints. I hadn't painted since before the attack, and my heart yearned to start a fresh canvas. I brushed my fingers over the shiny new tubes, practically drooled over the sable brushes. “I can't tell you how much I appreciate your generosity. I'm so grateful.”

  “Can I paint?” Katie questioned.

  I glanced at Gwynn and William before I answered, to ascertain their reaction to Katie's question. Gwynn's face looked pinched, while William was nodding amenably. “If your brother and Gwynn say you can, I'll be happy to let you paint with me.”

  Acenith stood up, handing me another package. “A little something from me.”

  I tore the paper and ribbon from the elegantly wrapped gift and discovered a book about the Louvre Museum in Paris, documenting the artwork in their exquisite collection and the history of each piece. “Thank you, Acenith. It's wonderful.”

  Acenith hugged me and I returned the embrace, wrapping my arms around her neck. “Perhaps one day you will be able to go there and see them in person,” she suggested.

  “I'd like that.”

  Ripley approached next, the gift in his hands wrapped in bright red wrapping, decorated with garish cartoon characters. “A small gift from myself, Miss Duncan.” I took it from him, swallowing a smile at the most un-Ripley like wrapping paper. “My apologies for the atrocious wrapping,” Ripley announced with a sniff, eyeing the offending paper with distaste, “I was delayed returning to the house this afternoon, and foolishly requested Striker prepare your gift. I didn't realize he would go out of his way, to find the most appalling wrapping in the State of Montana.”

  A glance at Striker confirmed he was grinning wickedly, and when he saw me watching him he offered me a mischievous wink.

  Holding back a giggle, I returned my attention to Ripley. “It's lovely, Ripley. Thank you.”

  “You are most welcome, Miss Duncan.”

  It didn't matter what I did, I couldn't convince Ripley to call me Lottie. Not even Charlotte. He was rigidly formal in his conduct and wouldn't be convinced otherwise. I lifted the lid from the box and was utterly delighted by the contents. Inside lay leather bound editions of the most famous of the Brontè sisters' novels – Jane Eyre; Wuthering Heights; Agnes Gray and The Tenant of Wildfell Hall. They were some of my favorite books and these made my old copies look shabby by comparison. I traced across the spine of Jane Eyre and the fragrant scent of the leather bindings wafted across my nostrils. “Thank you. They're just amazing.”

  Ripley bowed. “You are welcome, Miss Duncan. It was a pleasure to select them for you.”

  “Okay, it's our turn,” Striker announced, ignoring the filthy look Ripley sent him. He stood up and in a blur took the dozen or so steps from where he'd been sitting to reach my side. “C'mon.” He held out his hands, waggling his fingers at me.

  I looked up at him in confusion, uncertain as to exactly what he wanted me to do.

  “Your gift from Marianne and me is outside, Lott.”

  “Be gentle with her,” Lucas warned quietly. “Don't break any more of her ribs.”

  I looked at Lucas in alarm. Striker still intimidated me almost daily, although he was certainly trying to tone down his gruff exterior and doing his best to put me at ease.

  “Of course I'll be gentle,” Striker grumbled. He leaned over to pick me up and I squeezed my eyes shut. Those concerns were unfounded though, when Striker lifted me carefully into his arms, as if I were a delicate flower, and cradled me against his broad chest. It was like being carried by a lump of stone as he strode to the front door, which Ripley pulled open for us. I noticed everyone was trailing along behind and wondered what my gift could possibly be, and why it was outside.

  On the gravel beside the house was my Volkswagen – at least, it looked vaguely similar to my Volkswagen.

&nbs
p; Blinking once or twice, I was certain I must have been seeing things. This Volkswagen was shiny, with a bright red paint job and chromed wheel rims. It looked brand new, as though it had just been purchased from the showroom floor, in 1968. I couldn't believe what I was seeing.

  “We wanted to buy you a new car, but Lucas thinks you are rather attached to this one,” Marianne said from beside me.

  “It's fantastic,” I breathed.

  Striker took the comment as a positive sign, and carried me down the steps to the car. He opened the door and cautiously eased me onto the seat, before sprinting to the other side to join me. He proudly pointed out the improvement he'd made, the brand new leather upholstery, new carpets, a CD player, and seatbelts.

  “You've done an amazing job,” I murmured, my attention flickering from one improvement to the next. I was thrilled, I'd always loved my Volkswagen but it was true, she'd seen much better days. In the past twelve months or so, I'd been aware she was only running on a wing and a prayer, with more weird and wonderful sounds being generated by the engine each week.

  “Start her up, Lott.” The keys hung in the ignition and I leaned forward to turn the key. The car roared into life, purring smoothly and I traced my fingers over the dashboard, delighting in my rejuvenated car.

  “Do you wanna take her for a spin?” Striker asked enthusiastically.

  “I don't think Charlotte is ready for that, quite yet,” Ben interjected hurriedly. “A plaster cast and a stick shift hardly seem a good combination.”

  “Yeah, guess you're right, Ben,” Striker said sulkily. He was clearly itching to go for a drive, almost as much as I was.

  “Don't even think about it, young lady.” Lucas leaned into the car and drew me into his arms. “You are not driving your car, despite how fabulous you may think it is. Not until those casts come off.” His voice was a growl, but his blue eyes twinkled.

  Reaching out to Marianne, I pulled her into an awkward hug, kissing her cheek. “Thank you, Marianne, it's wonderful, and I love it.”

  “I'd like to take all the praise, but Striker did the work,” Marianne admitted with a grin.