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Knowledge Quickening (The Nememiah Chronicles Book 2)

Page 16

by D. S. Williams


  “I don't understand.”

  Lucas caught my hand, holding it between his palms. “You know more about us now than anyone. Remember those – other people? The ones we spoke about?”

  I nodded. “The ones who live in Europe.”

  “Yes. One of the reasons I couldn't tell you what I am was because of the rules we are governed by. Those people,” he glanced around, ensuring our conversation remained private, “live in Romania and are, to all intents and purposes, like a government to people like me.”

  “You have… a government?” This wasn't the type of conversation we should be having in a public forum, but I was impatient to understand the information Galen had provided and its context to what Lucas was explaining.

  “Of sorts,” Lucas responded guardedly. “They are called the Consiliului Suprem de Drâghici Vampiri. Do you recall I told you how powerful those people are?”

  “Yes.”

  “One of our rules is not telling people… like you… about people… like us.”

  “And you told me.”

  “Technically, I didn't. Ambrose told you. But he is dead and if the Consiliului find out about you, they'll assume the information was passed on by myself and the others.”

  “And that would be… bad?” It was difficult following this guarded conversation and it would be better to conduct it in privacy. But I had to know, wanted to know what this meant for me, for us. And whether I was going to have to make a decision to leave Lucas and his Kiss.

  “Not as bad as if they find out about your particular – talent. They are very keen on collecting – interesting items.” He gazed at me, his blue eyes relaying the significance of what he was saying.

  “And… they would find me interesting.”

  “Very, very interesting.”

  “Lottie! Lucas!” I turned and saw Hank standing nearby, dressed in a blue check shirt and jeans. He was holding hands with a woman of about his age and I guessed she was his wife.

  Hank closed the distance between us and kissed my cheek. “Good to see you, kid. See you've got the plaster off.”

  “Hi, Hank.” I hugged him briefly before he turned to shake hands with Lucas.

  “This is my wife, Mary. Mary, this is Charlotte Duncan and you know Lucas.”

  She was a small woman, petite with graying hair and an open friendly face dominated by piercing blue eyes. Wearing a pair of faded blue jeans and a red shirt, she looked down to earth and wholesomely attractive. “Hi Lottie, it's a pleasure to meet you. Hank has told me so much about you.”

  “Hi Mary,” Lucas said with a charming smile.

  “Lucas, we haven't seen you for ages. How have you been?”

  “Fine, Mary. Just fine.”

  Hank held his hand out. “Now, Miss Charlotte, how about you and I go and trip the light fantastic. Will you honor an old man and let me take you for a whirl?”

  I glanced at Lucas and he nodded his agreement. “Go ahead, Charlotte.” I handed him the soda and Hank drew me towards the dance floor, putting one hand at my waist and taking my hand in his. The song was an older one and Hank whirled me around the dance floor, leading me expertly after I'd admitted I wasn't a good dancer.

  “You and Lucas look mighty happy together.”

  My gaze automatically sought out Lucas where he was talking to Mary and nodded. “Yeah, we're very happy.”

  “Still planning on moving?”

  “Yeah, it should be in the next couple of months.”

  “Gee, I'll miss having you drop in when you're gone. You look so much better now, as if you've discovered living again. You're looking really content.”

  I drew my attention from Lucas and smiled up at Hank. “Yes, I am happy.” And yet, worry gnawed at me. What if Lucas's friends decided it was too dangerous for me to live with them? Where would I go? What would I do? Lucas had said it might be too dangerous for me to live with vampires. Did that include him?

  The music changed and Lucas strode across the dance floor. “May I cut in?”

  “Of course.” Hank kissed my cheek. “Catch you later, Lottie. Better see if Mary wants another whirl before we head home.”

  Lucas drew me into his arms, his arm around my waist and capturing my hand in his. He tugged me until I was standing close against him and expertly guided me through the steps. “I need to give you dancing lessons, my love,” he murmured when I stumbled.

  “It's not fair, you lived through all the good dancing decades,” I grumbled under my breath.

  “Ballroom dancing has made a resurgence in the past few years, we could go to classes if you would like.”

  I lifted my head, momentarily forgetting to watch my feet. I stumbled and Lucas held me firmly whilst I regained my footing. “Don't you mean we can go to classes if you and the others don't leave without me?”

  Lucas stopped dancing, his expression serious. “Charlotte, we need to talk about this more thoroughly and not here. But I can assure you, I have absolutely no intentions of leaving you behind. We may separate from the others, but I will remain with you.”

  I eyed him suspiciously. “Even if it's safer for me not to be with… your people?” It was maddening to keep talking in code like this, but with the dance floor crowded, there was little choice.

  Lucas effortlessly picked up the rhythm again and murmured against my ear. “No matter what the others decide, I will remain with you. If anything should happen that is untoward – and I very much doubt we need to worry about it in the immediate future – you and I will still be together. I promise you, my Charlotte. I will never leave you.”

  Relief flooded my psyche, the intensity in his voice confirmed he was telling the truth.

  Another interruption came in the form of my cell phone ringing and I fished it from the pocket of my jeans. I knew it would be Marianne without checking caller ID and answered it, holding my hand to my other ear so I could hear her. “Hi Marianne.”

  “For God's sake, will you please stop stressing,” Marianne scolded firmly. “Yes, we have talked about you staying with us and the general consensus is that we're all very happy with the status quo. The chances of the Consiliului finding out about you are slim and I can't see anything in the future to cause us any concern.”

  I giggled. “Marianne, perhaps you can't be relied on completely.”

  “I can be relied on regularly enough with your future,” Marianne responded with a trace of irony in her voice. “I may not see everything, but I seem to see more of your future than anyone else's. For now, we're safe. The problem with you, Charlotte, is that you think in human terms with regards to immediacy. We vampires, who have lived for a heck of a lot longer than you have, know things can take decades to happen. Or a millennium. Besides,” she continued, “we have all agreed you're safer with us watching over you and we will continue to do so.”

  The last of the stress dissipated from my shoulders and I smiled up at Lucas, who was watching me calmly. “Okay.”

  “And Charlotte?”

  “Yes?”

  “We will never ask you to leave us. Is that clear? So stop fretting and enjoy yourself.”

  “Okay.” I disconnected the call and looked up at Lucas. “I guess you got the gist of that?”

  He pulled me back into his arms. “Yes. I heard the conversation. Now, can we please relax and enjoy our first official date?” He kissed my forehead and I relaxed against him, knowing that whatever was in my future, Lucas and his Kiss would be at my side.

  Chapter 20: Strengthening

  “Damn it!” Striker had beaten me once again, playing Mario Karts on the Nintendo Wii.

  “I told you – it's impossible to beat me. I've got vamp reflexes, Lott. Superior to yours in every single way,” Striker boasted with a triumphant smile.

  “Children,” Rowena commented mildly. She was sitting at the computer desk, trawling eBay.

  “Do you want a rematch?” Striker offered. “I'll even give you a five second head start.”

  “Okay, but
no head start. If I can't win on my own merits, I don't want to win at all,” I announced, taking the moral high ground.

  “Your funeral,” Striker shrugged nonchalantly.

  The past few weeks had been idyllic; enjoying the company of people I was coming to love had given me a new lease on life. My days were continuously filled with happiness and it showed in my overall well-being. Looking in the mirror now, the girl who looked back at me was happy and healthy, with bright eyes, skin that glowed with good health, shining hair. The scars from my kidnapping ordeal had faded to almost nothing, although if I looked closely I could see the faint marks on my chest.

  With a constant diet of nourishing food, my weight had stabilized and I'd gained the pounds I'd lost. Lucas found my curvaceous figure even more desirable and the smoldering heat in his eyes showed just how much he enjoyed watching those curves when I walked past him, or we were alone together.

  After much contemplation, I'd begun taking tentative steps towards establishing a relationship with my father. Our contact consisted of emails, sending regular messages and getting to know one another gradually. It was something I didn't want to rush and Ben and Rowena in particular were supporting me through the first uncertain steps towards establishing a connection. It was nice to know more about my father and his family. I doubted we could establish a normal relationship, but it was a positive start.

  My relationships within Lucas's Kiss went from strength to strength. The more time I spent with them, the more I liked them. I found conversations with Ripley stimulating, when he wasn't writing he was happy to sit and talk with me. His history spread across four hundred years and I enjoyed nothing better than visiting him in the stables and perusing the many photographs and paintings that hung on the walls. In accordance with Lucas's wishes, I'd steered clear of Acenith and Ripley's complicated relationship and Ripley never brought the subject up.

  Rowena became more like a mother to me as time passed – although she couldn't replace Mom, she was a brilliant substitute. Calm and assured; she provided a sensitive and caring shoulder to lean on when the need arose. She offered guidance when I needed it, and a shoulder to cry on when I had a bad day.

  And I was still having difficult days. Despite my happiness and the anti-depressants Jerome had prescribed, I suffered through days where I woke in a funk and struggled to recover. The loss of my family weighed heavily and Jerome maintained the depression might continue for some time. Everyone insisted I was doing well, considering everything I'd experienced in the past few years. When I contemplated my existence before I met Lucas, I had to admit my recovery was above and beyond what I'd considered possible.

  “Okay, are you ready Lott?” Striker's voice interrupted my musings and I picked up the controller, ready to try and win again. This had been a pattern with Striker and myself for a few days now – a late afternoon game of Mario Karts had become a competition of mammoth proportions. Of course, the contest was ridiculously one-sided – Striker naturally excelled at everything and even though I'd played the Wii and Mario Karts in the past, he creamed me in every race. It bugged me that he always won, but I was determined to find a way to beat him, one way or the other.

  “Are you two ever going to give up on this?” Lucas questioned placidly, dropping down onto the couch beside me.

  “Nope.” I was concentrating on the race and from the corner of my eye; I caught the subtle shake of Lucas's head. Whilst he was a thoroughly modern man in so many ways, he hadn't embraced video games and didn't understand why Striker and I made such a competition out of it. To Lucas, it was something unreal, a pretend world that he didn't understand and couldn't see the fun in.

  As far as I was concerned, it was escapism at its finest. When I was playing a game, I didn't have to think about the more mundane things in life. Huh, I thought to myself, mundane things. That's a hoot. I live with vampires, life certainly couldn't be considered mundane.

  Striker's vehicle was drawing away from mine, his reflexes superior when negotiating the corners. This time I had a plan, however, and I bided my time, keeping up with him as much as possible, but not doing anything stupid, such as falling off a cliff which would put me too far behind him.

  At the end of the second lap, I put my plan into action, shifting some of my focus to the spirits. I was aware of Lucas eyeing me curiously and I smiled.

  Striker was already hooting about imminent victory when the controller was snatched from his hands. I laughed out loud, steering my car carefully around the track whilst from the corner of my eye I could see Mom running around the room with Striker's controller clutched in her hand triumphantly.

  Striker roared his surprise and leapt from the couch. I was hunched over, shaking with uncontrolled laughter as I guided my car across the finish line.

  “No fair, Lott,” Striker grumbled as he chased the floating controller around the room. I could imagine what the others were seeing – a controller moving by itself and Striker trying in vain to catch it. Although he was much quicker than Mom was, she had the advantage of being invisible to him – consequently she twisted and turned around the room, keeping just out of Striker's reach.

  Continuing to bellow like a wounded bull, Striker persisted in chasing Mom and we were soon joined by everyone in the house, curious to learn what the ruckus was. By the time I drew Mom back into the recesses of my mind, everyone was laughing and Striker cuffed me softly across the head. “Cheater.”

  “I'm not a cheater,” I protested. “You keep telling me you use your superior vamp reflexes – I guess in this case, I used my superior psychic skills.”

  “She's got you there, Striker,” Ripley agreed. “That was quite the funniest thing I've seen in many years.”

  “So let me get this straight,” William said with a bemused smile, “now you can call the spirits without having to fully concentrate on them?”

  I stretched my legs out, considering his observation. “Yeah, I guess so.” It came as a surprise when I realized it was true. Whilst Ben and Lucas actively encouraged my defense practice with the men, I usually needed to concentrate intensely to get the spirits to do what I wanted. I hadn't noticed that it was becoming easier; I always assumed I needed to focus deeply and acted accordingly. It seemed after the controller incident, that perhaps I didn't need to work quite so hard on reaching out for help now.

  “Astonishing,” Ben commented mildly.

  “There's no doubt her skills are increasing at a remarkable rate,” Lucas agreed. He caught my hand in his and leaned over to kiss me. “How was your morning? Did you spend the entire time playing this game with Striker?” Lucas and William had driven to Billings early this morning, to begin preparations for our departure from Puckhaber.

  “No!” I retorted indignantly. “I've been painting all morning; we've only been playing for about an hour.”

  Lucas squeezed my fingers. “You know I'm only teasing you.”

  I leaned across to kiss his cheek. “Yep, I know.”

  He patted my thigh. “Right now, you need to do some practice.”

  “Really?” I groaned.

  Lucas grinned. “Yes, really. You're doing so well with your lessons; we need to keep you practicing. Given the prowess you've just displayed, I'm expecting big things this afternoon.”

  We headed out into the garden - Striker, William, Ripley, Lucas and I. Ben was at work and Marianne and Acenith were visiting the library in Puckhaber. Gwynn came out to watch and Rowena appeared a few minutes later with a glass and a jug of juice in preparation for when I needed it. Lucas insisted on working with my abilities each day, and wouldn't be dissuaded – no matter how much I moaned. Rowena had taken to preparing drinks and snacks to keep me motivated, which was an uphill slog. I would never be a fighter, hated using the men as guinea pigs. It was one instance where Lucas and I disagreed – he insisted I needed to do this to protect myself – I insisted I'd learned enough and didn't want to become any more combative. I'd done what I hoped to do – I could use my abili
ty to buy myself some time if I was attacked. I didn't want to hurt anyone and worried for my friends' safety.

  We started out as we usually did, with Lucas directing the practice and gradually increasing what he asked of me. First, I worked with Striker, adding William, then Ripley. We worked on a combination of the spirits attacking and restraining the vampires and Lucas joined the group out on the lawn after I'd successfully restrained and attacked the three men a multitude of times. This was the most difficult part, I still struggled with more than three, but Lucas kept assuring me that coping with more was imperative. As they kept reminding me, Laurence Armstrong had sent fifteen shape shifters – we couldn't guarantee it would be less the next time. The suggestion of a next time was the most disquieting aspect – a possibility that bothered me more than I was willing to admit.

  “You're doing fine, Charlotte,” Rowena called from the patio. She and Gwynn were sitting together on the patio chairs, elegant and calm with sunglasses shielding their eyes from the brilliant sunshine.

  I smiled faintly at her, walking towards the patio for a glass of juice before I tried again. “I wish it wasn't necessary.”

  “Hopefully it isn't necessary,” Gwynn offered. “We can't always be with you, Charlotte, so even though it might not be required, it's reassuring for us to know you can protect yourself.”

  With a tiny grumble under my breath, I headed back out onto the grass to continue working. Lucas and Ripley were standing together and Lucas glanced up as I walked across, smiling tenderly. “Ready, my love?”

  I huffed out a sigh. “Yep.”

  “I think we should try something new, Charlotte,” Ripley began. “We've been working on passive maneuvers up until now, but I believe we should also prepare you for enemies being less compliant.”

  I raised an eyebrow in question.

  “What Ripley is trying to say, in an entirely convoluted way, is that anyone who's coming after you might not stand around and wait for you to restrain them or attack them,” Striker explained, joining our small group. “You need to learn to attack a moving target, Lott.”

 

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