Knowledge Revealed

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Knowledge Revealed Page 25

by D. S. Williams


  Rowena had made pizza and I picked up a slice, mechanically forcing myself to bite and swallow. I listened to the conversation, astonished by how easily they spoke together, with no signs of the anger they'd displayed earlier. Lucas had explained they were adept at lying, creating illusions to deceive humans. It was as natural to them as breathing and even that was an illusion – vampires didn't need to breathe.

  I stole a glance at Ripley, speculating about whether he could hear my thoughts, but there nothing to suggest he was privy to what was going through my mind. The talk was happy and cheerful and I marveled again, at what a cohesive group they were. I would miss them when I moved out and a sharp twinge of misery stabbed my chest.

  “So did Lucas give you the gruesome details about last night?” Striker inquired cheerfully.

  I nearly choked on the pizza, wondering how Striker could find such enjoyment in something I found so horrifying. He seemed to have truly enjoyed the fight, unlike the others, who considered it distasteful to kill their own.

  “Striker, honestly. Can you not act like a gentleman for once in your life?” Ripley sniffed disdainfully.

  “It's okay,” I responded quickly. Striker had a twinkle in his eye, I knew he wanted me to be horrified and I wasn't going to give him the satisfaction. “He told me all about it, Striker. Sounds like it was quite a fight.”

  “You bet it was, when we ripped—”

  He was silenced by a howl of protest from the others and I dipped my head, so he couldn't see the revulsion in my eyes.

  “I'm sure Charlotte heard all she wants to about last night,” Ben said quietly. “It must have been distressing for you, left alone here with Katie.”

  “I was making contingency plans, if that's what you mean,” I responded bleakly.

  Rowena lifted an eyebrow. “Contingency plans?”

  “In case none of you came back,” I said, chewing thoughtfully on my lower lip. “I knew Katie had to be protected and I was worried they would come back here if none of you survived.”

  “What did you plan to do?” Acenith enquired. She was sitting beside Rowena, elegant in a flowing silk shirt, her long hair braided.

  “I figured there wasn't much I could do to fight them. I'd decided to search the house, find whatever cash I could gather.” I smiled apologetically. “I was going to steal one of the cars, take Katie, and run.”

  “Where did you think you would go?” Rowena asked. “What did you intend to do, once you'd left?”

  “Keep Katie safe. I thought I'd drive to Los Angeles and try to catch a flight to Europe, somewhere far away. I figured Katie might have a passport, but I don't, so I was working out how one goes about getting an illegal passport.” I paused for a few seconds, considering the plan I'd formulated. “I was going to take one of your cell phones, so if anyone survived, I could contact you and let you know where Katie and I were hiding.”

  Marianne's look was admiring, her eyes warm. “We appreciate how much you were willing to do to keep Katie safe, Charlotte.”

  I offered her a tiny smile, but it was forced. Gwynn was Katie's mother, to all intents and purposes, but she most certainly didn't appreciate a single thing about me.

  “Why did you consider an illegal passport?” Ben asked curiously, smoothly moving the conversation forward. “You could have applied and received a passport within twenty four hours.”

  “I'm a convicted murder,” I responded bashfully. “I can't hold a passport for another three years.”

  “Great thinking, Lott. I'm seriously impressed,” Striker grinned.

  “I told you she was intelligent. It seems she's extremely cunning, too.” Lucas strode into the kitchen, his sudden appearance startling me. His hair was damp from the shower and he was dressed in navy blue dockers and a white sweater. He leaned across the table and handed me a can of Coke, which I accepted silently, keeping my gaze averted. I couldn't face those blue eyes when I'd made the decision to leave and knew he would soon hate me.

  “I don't know how you eat that crap, Charlotte. I think I'd rather eat a squirrel,” Striker teased, eyeing the pizza with distaste.

  “You don't know what you're missing.”

  I pushed the plate away, having eaten my fill and that appeared to be the cue for a change of subject. Marianne vacated the chair beside me, going to sit with William and Gwynn on the bench top. Lucas took her place, draping his arm around my shoulder and he leaned forward to kiss my cheek. It was all I could do not to burst into tears.

  Ben leaned back in his chair, turning his attention to Lucas. “Lucas, would you prefer to speak?”

  Lucas shook his head, a broad smile creasing his lips. “No, Ben. You go ahead.”

  Ben nodded his affirmation and smiled softly when he turned his gaze to mine. “Charlotte, I have no doubt you're wondering why we have all gathered together.”

  “I'm guessing it wasn't to watch the human eat,” I replied quietly.

  Striker snorted his amusement and Ben's smile broadened into a grin before he continued. “We wanted to thank you for your insight last night – what you accomplished saved Lucas, Striker and I from a very dangerous situation.

  I cringed, guilt pouring through my bloodstream like a virus. “If it wasn't for me, none of you would have been in that position.”

  “Yeah, that's true. But if it wasn't for meeting you, I would never have gotten to speak with Mom again,” Striker said seriously.

  “We all appreciate what you've done for us, Charlotte,” Rowena added. “To discover what really happened that dreadful night – to have the joy of knowing Duncan continued to care for me and watch over me – it was a blessing I never thought to receive.”

  Marianne smiled happily, her eyes twinkling. “You've given me the opportunity to see my family. It was something I never would have believed possible.”

  “We have benefited from you appearance in our existence, Charlotte. Much more, I imagine, than you have benefited from our appearance in yours,” Ben agreed. “Which is why we are gathered here tonight. Lucas told us how you feel about staying here with us and that you consider us family. We feel the same way about you – and we would like you to stay with us on a permanent basis. The Kiss has agreed and in Rowena's case, she would love nothing better than to have you here to mother,” Ben smiled warmly. “Apparently, you are far more agreeable to being cared for than the rest of us.”

  Tears began to flow, silently running down my cheeks. I knew Ben was completely sincere, but I also knew not everyone had agreed to the idea and the knowledge was tearing me apart. Rowena left the table and appeared at my side with a box of Kleenex, which she'd purchased especially for me, the only person who could possibly need them. Vampires couldn't cry, never got colds. I pulled one from the box and dabbed my eyes, trying to gather the strength for what I was about to do.

  Ben continued quietly. “This isn't something you should enter into lightly. I know you enjoy living here, but our lifestyle is not for the faint-hearted, it's based on lies and deceit. People around us must be convinced we are human. There are many factors, which you need to consider before you make your decision. The fact that we don't age is an issue, we can only stay in an area for a limited period and then move on. Sometimes our plans don't work out, if a human becomes suspicious of our true nature we must leave quickly, uproot, and relocate. You would have to be prepared for that, to know that friendships you make will be destroyed, any employment you undertook would be only a temporary measure. As you know, we will be leaving Puckhaber soon, after Marianne and Striker's wedding. And for you, there are some unique dangers to living with us.” He paused, glancing around the table. “For the most part, we cope with your scent around us and with careful monitoring of our feeding, you will be safe. However, as a human being, you are particularly fragile. If you were to cut yourself and bleed, it becomes a serious issue. Something as simple as falling over and scraping your knee puts you in danger of one of us losing control and attacking you. The onus would be entirely
on you to keep in mind the need to be extremely cautious. You have to be prepared for that.”

  I nodded, unable to speak through the lump in my throat.

  “There are other problems,” Ben added. “We have contact with vampires from around the world and very few rely on animal blood to survive – most feed on and kill humans. There will be a risk to you every time we encounter them. We will assess each situation and decide if it's safe for you to stay with us, or if we should separate until the danger passes.” He met Lucas's eyes and smiled warmly. “Lucas would naturally stay with you, to ensure your safety.”

  Lucas drew me closer, kissing my forehead softly. “I will always keep you safe, my Charlotte.”

  Cringing at the tenderness in Lucas's words, I knew how much I was about to hurt him. I took a deep breath, ignoring the tight pull against my ribcage as I wiped away my tears again.

  “So what do you think, Lott? Wanna live with the vampires on a permanent basis?” Striker's voice was filled with enthusiasm and I caught the furious look that crossed Gwynn's face. I couldn't be involved in this group being torn apart as my own family had been and I wouldn't be responsible for them fighting over me being here. Gwynn insisted she was going to leave if I stayed. The situation was untenable.

  “I appreciate the offer, I really do.” I stared at my hands, knowing if I looked at anyone I would lose the courage to lie convincingly. “Unfortunately, I can't stay. I love you all, but— after last night, I've done a lot of thinking and I've decided I should leave. What happened made me realize how dangerous it is for me to stay. I know none of you would deliberately harm me, but I should be living with humans. It's the sensible thing to do. I'm— I'm frightened of what might happen if I stay with you and I don't want to meet any other vampires.”

  “I don't believe you,” Lucas said, his voice sounding raw.

  I risked a glance at his face and my heart tightened at the immense pain reflected in his blue eyes. With a shuddering breath, I looked away. “It's true. You've told me repeatedly that you don't know if you can win the struggle against your natural instincts. I don't want to take the risk. I'm feeling much better about my life now. I'm thinking about trying to find my real Dad, get to know him again. I belong with humans, not vampires.”

  Lucas shook his head vehemently and reached for me, his hands drawing my face up to meet his. “Tell me the truth, Charlotte! Why are you doing this to us?”

  The anguish in his voice was almost more than I could bear, but I had to continue, needed to make a clean break. I stared at him, using every ounce of willpower to do so. “I don't want to stay here with you. You told me you would never stop me from leaving and now I want to. I want a normal life, a normal husband, a normal family. You can't give me that.”

  Lucas's hands dropped away from my face as thought the contact hurt him. It was obvious how deeply he was wounded; I'd thrown everything about him back in his face. I'd used his promise to me against him, and I would never forgive myself.

  I reached for the beautiful ring he'd given me, intent on removing it to give it back. My fingers shook as I attempted to pull it off.

  Lucas saw what I was doing and gripped my hand tightly in his. “Keep it. I told you I wanted you to have it always.” He dropped my hand, slumping in the chair with his head in his hands.

  “I can't keep it, Lucas. It wouldn't be right.”

  “I will not take it back,” he said firmly. He remained where he'd slumped, refusing to meet my eyes and my heart shattered.

  “Will you at least wait until Jerome removes the plaster next week?” Ben asked. He and the others seemed shell-shocked, unable to believe I really intended to leave. I glanced at Marianne and knew she would be crying, if she were capable of doing so.

  “No, I'm going now. Tonight. I'll drop in at the hospital and get it removed. Don't misunderstand, I truly appreciate everything you've done for me, but I think this is for the best.” I drew myself wearily to my feet. “I'll go and pack.”

  “At least let me help you,” Rowena offered sadly. Her shoulders were slumped and sadness was apparent in her demeanor.

  “No, thank you. I'd rather do it myself.” I was cursing myself for this cruelty to the people I loved more than anything. Keeping my gaze lowered, I turned from the table and slowly made my way from the room. I needed to escape to where they couldn't see me, and where the torrents of pain could be released.

  “Charlotte?” I turned at the doorway, forcing my gaze up to meet Ripley's eyes. He scrutinized me for a few seconds, obviously trying to force his way through the cacophony of voices in my mind. There was no sense of triumph when he failed, only the desperate sadness which threatened to overwhelm me. “I'll get your car ready,” he finally offered.

  “Thank you.” I turned and walked away, heading up the stairs and bracing myself for whatever the future might hold.

  Chapter 20: Exile

  Day One:

  Nothing. I removed the casts with a sharp knife, unwilling to visit the hospital next week and see Jerome.

  Day Two:

  Nothing. I spent the entire day wallowing in misery, drinking coffee and staring at the living room walls.

  Day Three:

  Nothing. I didn't bother to get off my cot, instead laying flat on my back, staring at ceiling. Trying hard not to think.

  Day Four:

  Nothing. The spirits have at last shut up, giving up their frustrating attempts at getting through to me. I've given up too.

  Day Five:

  Nothing.

  Day Six:

  Sleep eluded me throughout the night and I lay on the cot, listening to the sounds of the woods around me. Those same sounds had brought some comfort in the hours of darkness, before I'd gotten involved with Lucas. Now they were a continual reminder of how much I missed the Kiss. Solitude had been my haven, loneliness my preference. Now I craved the chatter of Rowena, Marianne and the others. Longed for it, pined for it. The ache was unendurable, almost worse than the pain when my ribs were broken. I couldn't recover from this.

  Day Seven:

  A week has passed, a week since I lost my soul, had my heart torn out. The only reason I'd found to live. Although I tried not to think of Lucas, he was in my every waking moment. I tried to remember the happiness I'd enjoyed with him, but the look in his eyes on that last night was all I could recall with any clarity. The hurt, the sadness, and the betrayal. I spent most of my time trying to convince myself I could move on, but the desire was gone. Suicide crept into my thoughts, despite the promise I'd made to Ben to continue taking the medication Jerome prescribed. I knew it would do no good; I couldn't possibly recover from this misery. The ache in my chest was constant, as though someone has reached into my chest cavity, torn out my heart and thrown it away.

  Day Eight:

  I lay on the cot, eyes wide open as I watched daylight creep slowly into the room. Another sleepless night had been endured and I wondered idly how long a person could go without sleeping. Without eating. It had been eight days now, with minimal sleep and nothing to eat. Just endless cups of coffee – until today. Now I faced a conundrum – I'd run out of coffee. Milk had been gone for a day or two, but I'd chosen to drink black coffee, which was a better option than facing people. Now a difficult choice had to be made. Live without coffee, or go to a store.

  I groaned, pulling myself into a sitting position. I could survive without food, didn't feel like eating. But coffee? Impossible to live without the caffeine. With a sigh, I got to my feet and limped out to the living room.

  My belongings were exactly where I'd left them eight days ago, thrown in the middle of the floor. I hadn't bothered changing clothes, hadn't troubled to shower. In fact, I hadn't bothered with anything besides breathing and it was an intense struggle to work up the energy even for that. I searched through various bags and boxes, looking for fresh clothes and underwear. I needed a shower before I went into town, to make myself look even remotely human. Human. That was the root cause of my curren
t predicament – I was human.

  I stood under the steaming hot water, washing away a weeks' worth of dirt. When I stepped out of the shower, I wrapped a towel around myself and studied my reflection in the cracked mirror over the sink. A stranger looked back – pale and hollow-cheeked, with haunted shadows surrounding her eyes. The green eyes looked dead, unfocused, and uncaring. This was a different person to the one I'd been eight days ago – the one with a flush of color in her cheeks, and eyes filled with life.

  I dragged on old jeans and a sweater, hunting for a few minutes to find a belt amongst my belongings. My hipbones protruded and I knew I'd lost weight. Pounds, by the look of it. It didn't matter. All I wanted to do was get through this. Go to the store, pick up coffee, and come back to the cottage. I had two weeks left on the rental and then I'd leave for destinations unknown. I didn't care where I went, what I did, as long as I got far away from here. Nothing mattered any more; I could barely find the energy to plan the next five minutes of my existence.

  I raked through my purse searching for my wallet, grabbed the car keys and hobbled out to the car. Even that tugged at my heart. It was another reminder of my friends, their generosity, and kindness.

  I cautiously eased my foot onto the clutch pedal, started the car, and eased out the gravel drive and onto the highway. My ankle was causing me considerable pain and I felt a twinge of guilt about removing the plaster. No doubt, Jerome would be horrified, because I knew there was something wrong with it still, but the casts hindered me and I had no tolerance for them. And I missed being carried around by the strong man who'd become the centre of my universe. I missed his cool skin against mine, the hard pressure of his lips when he'd kissed me.

  I mentally shook away the dangerous daydream, cautioning myself against thinking about Lucas like this. It only created more heartache and pain to think about him. I wished there was some way to expunge him from my mind, slice out the memories, which caused continual agony.

 

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