The Nememiah Chronicles Collection

Chapter 15

They were uniformly silent for a few seconds, digesting my announcement before Striker broke the silence. “What sort of secret?” he growled, the tenor of his voice confirming he was instantly suspicious.

“Now Striker, give her a chance,” Rowena warned.

“I knew this was dangerous,” Ripley groaned, eyeing me with unconcealed contempt. “It was dangerous to trust you.”

Gwynn was enraged as she stood up, her eyes blazing fire as she glared at Lucas. “This is what I was concerned about! We don"t even know this girl, and yet you"ve allowed her to come in here and threaten our existence!”

“Enough! Gwynn, remember whom you"re speaking to. Sit down and give her a chance to explain,” Lucas ordered coldly, his tone tolerating no arguments and I was reminded that he was their leader. There was a tangible anger in the room, the tension level ratcheted up considerably in the past few minutes. I could feel the stiffness in Lucas"s body, as if he was teetering on the edge of physically attacking Gwynn.

EnoughFor a long moment, Gwynn stared furiously at me, before she allowed William to tug her down onto the couch beside him. She held her arms out to Katie. “Come here, Katie.”

“I wanna stay with Charlotte and Lucas,” Katie announced and I suspected Gwynn was going to have apoplexy. With a gentle brush of my fingers across Katie"s hair, I inclined my head towards William. “You should do as Gwynn asked, please, Katie.” With a little huff of annoyance, Katie wriggled down off the couch and stomped around to William, letting him lift her onto his lap. She pointedly ignored Gwynn and I knew that if Gwynn hadn"t hated me before, she most certainly did now. Ripley glared at me with barely concealed fury and Striker gripped his huge hands reflexively into fists. Even Acenith looked perturbed, her glorious green eyes filled with worry, and I rushed to reassure them I meant no harm.

“I promise you, this has nothing to do with your secret. I would never tell anyone about you.” I glanced at Katie, wondering how much she knew about her brother and the others. Did she know they were vampires? It seemed as if I was treading on eggshells and I silently cursed myself, for even suggesting I could offer them a gift of my own. It had been a stupid mistake.

The words didn"t have the effect I"d hoped for and they continued to watch me silently. There was a tension amongst them, which hadn"t been there before and I took a deep breath, trying to weave my tangled thoughts into a flow of coherency. “This secret is something I"ve always kept very private. Although my grandmother knew there was something, she didn"t say anything, didn"t approach me about it. I guess it could be a hereditary thing, but I"ve never had any proof. Mom couldn"t do it.” Flushing with embarrassment, I glanced around at them, wrinkling my nose when I guessed what a mess I was making of this discussion. “Sorry – I know I"m not making any sense.”

“It"s okay, Charlotte. Take your time,” Rowena urged. It seemed she was the only one willing to show any faith in me, the only one willing to reserve judgment until I"d had an opportunity to explain. Even Ben looked concerned; sitting back in an armchair, he was holding his thumb and forefinger to the bridge of his nose, as if expecting imminent disaster.

Taking a deep breath, I began again. “This is something I"ve kept to myself, because people would probably think I was some sort of freak if they knew. I guess…” I peeked around at them, “given that I"m sitting in a room…” I glanced at Katie anxiously, found her watching me with big grey eyes and stumbled to a halt, glancing up at Lucas uncertainly.

“Katie knows what we are, Charlotte.”

“They is vampires,” Katie announced happily. “But I has to keep it secret.”

Okay— something else I would need to discuss with Lucas later, if I survived this current situation. Inhaling heavily, I continued. “Given that I"m sitting in a room filled with vampires and some of you have such amazing… abilities, you probably won"t think this is as freaky as most people would.” I dropped my gaze to my hands, unable to bear the distrust in their eyes. Whilst I"d thought I was building a friendly relationship with them, it seemed the level of trust we"d achieved wasn"t high. “I have some sort of – psychic ability. It"s been there all of my life, but I"ve ignored it most of the time. Dead people communicate with me – and some of them have messages to give to you.” I looked around anxiously, expecting them to burst into laughter, or tell me I was crazy; but they were all quiet, watching me with collectively solemn expressions. Lucas"s arm tightened imperceptibly around my shoulders and when I glanced up, I found his expression unreadable. It was apparent they were still suspicious, worried about what I was alluding to. I needed to show them, but how did I go about it? The voices were always in the background of my consciousness, whispering and murmuring, but I"d spent the vast majority of my life ignoring them, wishing they"d just go away. I"d never willingly attempted to listen to them before.

Closing my eyes, I took another steadying breath, ignoring the sharp tug on my ribs. The voices were dissonant and I responded to them, firmly and silently. “If you want me to listen, you have to speak one at a time. I can"t make sense of what you"re saying, if you all speak at once.”

If you want me to listen, you have to speak one at a time. I can"t make sense of what you"re saying, if you all speak at once.”Some of the hubbub died down and I was able to select one thread of conversation and concentrate on that alone. With it came an image –clear and well defined, I could see the speakers as if they stood before me. A man dressed in a formal suit of heavy grey serge, with a neatly buttoned waistcoat beneath the jacket and highly polished shoes on his feet. The neck of his crisply starched shirt was adorned with a black silk cravat, and a gold watch chain hung from the waistcoat. He sported a dark brown goatee and slicked back hair, parted with precision to one side. He had a woman at his side; dressed in a demure gown of pale green silk, her waist was tightly corseted and her back impossibly straight. Her long blonde hair was piled into an elaborate arrangement on the top of her head and she watched me with clear hazel eyes and an encouraging smile. The man and woman were holding hands, their fingers intertwined. Standing beside them was a younger man, perhaps in his late twenties. Whilst not classically handsome, his features were appealing and his body long and lean. His sky-blue eyes stood out in stark contrast against his dark brown hair, which fell across his collar in gentle waves. His dress suggested he was of a lower class than the couple; he wore a white shirt, which lay open at the neckline to reveal heavily tanned skin, coarse woolen trousers, and heavily scuffed boots. Despite the obvious social differences between him and the couple, it was evident they were a group who belonged with each other. Listening carefully to their words for a few minutes, I opened my eyes and located Rowena. She had settled onto the edge of the armchair Ben occupied, watching me inquisitively. I was comforted to find no sign of distrust in her gaze, but her curiosity was abundant.

“I can see your parents, Mungo and Elizabeth.” I gave a brief description of each one, along with the second man, who had identified himself as Duncan Taylor. “Mungo wants you to know, he"s deeply regretful about your enforced betrothal to Finchley. His decision was mandated by the times you lived in, when it was required that a daughter marry someone of her own class. He honestly believed the betrothal to be a good match, Finchley held his own estate near your father"s in Auchintoul, and he came with the highest recommendations from London society. Mungo and your mother knew you were in love with Duncan, but he was a gardener on your Estate, making it impossible for you to marry him, without causing a scandal which would have affected the entire family.” I listened carefully for another minute or two as Rowena"s mother spoke, her hands clutched together at her waist. “Elizabeth wants you to know she tried so hard to convince your father to call off the betrothal, but it was a situation which your father couldn"t control without repercussions for both you and your family. He apologizes that he didn"t have the courage to make that choice, he wishes he could change the decision he made and should have allowed you to marry for love.”

Rowena intertwined her fingers, a multitude of emotions crossing her exquisite features. Ben placed his hand on her thigh and they shared a meaningful look, before Rowena turned back to me, her eyes filled with expectation.

“Duncan is sorry he couldn"t protect you from Finchley. He"d suspected Finchley was something— abnormal, even before you both tried to run away from Auchintoul. It wasn"t until after Finchley had murdered Duncan that he became aware of the truth of what happened. Your father"s footman had taken a bribe from Finchley, and told him the direction you were travelling. Duncan wishes he"d been strong enough to stop Finchley. After his death, when he reached the— other side… he discovered Finchley was a vampire and it was only then when he understood he could never have stopped Finchley from taking you, from turning you to vampire. He says Finchley had an obsessive desire for you, which Duncan could never have overcome. Duncan has watched over you since his death – when you were trapped on Finchley"s estate, Duncan was there with you. Every time you caught the scent of freesias wafting through the house; that was Duncan. He was delighted when Finchley was destroyed, and you were finally free. He only wishes it hadn"t taken a decade. He wants you to know he felt your desperation and sorrow when you were turned, and knew how sad you were, because you were never able to contact your family again. Mungo and Elizabeth were stunned to discover what happened after they died, they"d mourned your loss for many years, and wish there had been some way for you to keep in touch with them. They have accepted what you have become and love you unconditionally. Duncan and your parents are so glad you met Ben; they know you are soul mates and trust Ben to love you always and keep you safe. Duncan is very happy you found love again, and wants you to know, he will adore you always.”

The voices and images faded and I peeked at Rowena, anxious as to how she would react. Her eyes were bright and she held her hands to her cheeks, her expression filled with wonder. “Charlotte, thank you. I"ve always wondered, but this is the most incredible gift I"ve ever received.” She gazed at Ben and he squeezed her fingers gently, leaning forward to kiss her tenderly.

“This is your secret?” Striker asked. The anger wasn"t simmering in his eyes now and his stance had relaxed.

This“Yes.”

“You can talk to our families?” Ben was rubbing his hand against Rowena"s thigh, offering her comfort. His voice was laced with incredulity.

“Yes.” Listening to the voices again, I had to ask them to stop clamoring for attention a second time. It seemed every spirit was wrangling for their opportunity to speak, after being ignored for so long. Pulling a second thread towards me, a new image appeared. Who this memory belonged to was immediately recognizable, the resemblance uncanny. I turned to Marianne. “I"m talking to your grandmother, who tells me her name is Margaret. She wants you to know how happy she was when she met your Grandpa again, after her death. She"s so proud of the woman you"ve become. She and your parents missed you desperately when you disappeared. They"d always accepted that you were a free spirit, and intended to travel the world, but when they didn"t hear from you for so long, they grew very worried. With the war going on, there was no way to get any information, or to have someone search for you in Europe. When Germany capitulated, your father and brother travelled to Europe to search, but things were so chaotic and they couldn"t find any records to suggest what had happened to you.”

A couple walked into the mental picture and introduced themselves as Marianne"s parents, Alexander and Ann Cooper. They were dressed in clothing that reminded me of films such as The Maltese Falcon, and Casablanca; her father was immaculately clad in military uniform, her mother wore a floral dress, her dark hair pulled back from her pretty features with elaborately decorated combs. “Your parents are with me now. Your Mom, Ann, says she had a feeling,” I smiled across at Marianne, “very much like the feelings you have about the future, and she knew almost from the beginning that you were gone forever.”

Marianne"s offered me a delighted smile, her entire face joyful. “My mother always had a sixth sense about future events.”

Returning to Marianne"s family, I listened to their words. “They thought you"d been killed in Europe. They were very worried when they discovered what had happened to you, how you"d become vampire after being attacked in Berlin. But they love you and see how you love your friends and they"re delighted about your engagement to Striker.” Marianne grinned; her eyes filled with pleasure as she turned to Striker and pressed a kiss against his mouth. “Your sister Annabeth, and your brother Philip, say hello. Annabeth thinks Striker is…” I almost laughed aloud and averted my gaze, unable to meet Striker"s eyes, “… a real dish.”

“Thanks, Charlotte,” Marianne announced happily. “And Annabeth is right.” She glanced up at Striker and leaned forward to kiss him, in an unabashed show of adoration.

Staring down at my hands, I was pleased for the first time that I could do this. It had alarmed me in the past and I"d continually ignored the voices, often yelling for them to go away and leave me alone. For a long time, I"d been convinced I was going insane and the voices and visions had terrified me. Now, I could see there was some good to come from this strange talent. Lucas trailed his fingertips over my arm and I looked up, wondering what he was making of this. The soft expression in his eyes was wonderful and I knew he accepted me, exactly as I was. It was comforting, made even more encouraging when he leaned down unexpectedly and brushed his lips across mine.

I returned to the voices, surprised when Marianne"s mother spoke to me again. I listened carefully, nodding in response to her question, and then blushing as it occurred to me that I was nodding to someone only I could see. “Yes, I think I could do that. You"d have to appear for me again. Yes, I think Marianne would like it, very much.”

“What did you see, Charlotte?” Rowena asked eagerly.

My eyes came to rest on Marianne. “Your mother asked if I would paint a portrait of them for you. She says money was tight before you left home, and they didn"t have any family photos. I promised I would paint a portrait of your family for you.”

Marianne leaped up from the couch and whooped with delight, before swamping me in a hug. “That would be outstanding!” she announced with a happy squeal.

“Remember to be gentle, Marianne,” Lucas warned her. “If you break her other arm, how will she paint?”

“Good point,” Marianne agreed, easing off on the bear hug.

“Do you… is there a message for me?” Gwynn asked timidly. She was perched on the very edge of the couch, William clasping her shoulder and it was apparent she was desperate for anything I could tell her.

I shut my eyes, searching through the voices. If I concentrated hard enough, I discovered I was able to mute the individual voices, one after the other as I worked through them, lowering the clamor in my head. At last, I heard what I was searching for and an image appeared. A couple stood together, the woman very beautiful. Almost as beautiful as her daughter. The man standing beside her was formally dressed in a pinstriped suit, with a heavily starched collar and neatly knotted tie. The woman spoke rapidly, twisting her hands together nervously as she related a story that had me cringing internally. The man beside her placed his arm around her shoulder, providing her with physical comfort.

“Your mom, Sarah, is speaking to me,” I said, turning to Gwynn. “She is so very sorry… for what happened after she divorced your father. She wants you to know she fought as hard as she could, but your father was wealthy and she didn"t have the funds to fight for custody after their divorce.” I chewed my lip anxiously, listening to Gwynn"s mother and trying to sanitize what I was hearing before I spoke. I knew so little about Gwynn and I didn"t know how much the others in the room knew about her history. “She never stopped loving you, Gwynn. Two years after she left, she remarried and her new husband, Thomas Gregory, is with her now. As soon as they married, they tried to gain custody of you through the courts… but your father insisted you"d died, and provided them with a forged death certificate.”

Gwynn covered her face with her hands and William drew her into his arms, hugging her against his chest. Katie placed her hand in Gwynn"s, apparently over her little snit about being made to go and sit with William. “She says if she"d known you were still alive, she would never, ever, have stopped searching for you. She only discovered what had happened… after she passed away.” I managed a wavering smile. “She"s pleased you… finally escaped your father"s home and made your way to San Francisco, and met Eugene. She believes you made the right choice in becoming a vampire, knows you thought it was the only way to keep yourself safe. She doesn"t condemn the choices you made, and says she"s glad you have such a good friend in Eugene… and knows he didn"t made the decision to create you lightly. She wants me to thank William for loving you so deeply, she"s happy you"ve made such a perfect match and found happiness. She loves you deeply, as much as she did the day she left. She never abandoned you, Gwynn; she wants you to know that. She"s been watching over you all these years and she"s proud of how special you are.” The image faded and I smiled encouragingly at Gwynn. She smiled back, an openly brilliant smile and I was encouraged that perhaps our relationship wasn"t in complete tatters.

My head was beginning to ache mildly; I"d never realized how much concentration would be needed to do this, to communicate with the spirits. The emotional drain was huge – all those people, all those voices calling out to be heard.

Lucas drew me tighter against his chest and caught my chin, lifting my face to his. “Are you alright?” he asked huskily.

“I want to do this, Lucas. It"s something I can repay, for everything you"ve given me.”

“You haven"t eaten in a while. Do you want anything?” They were all very aware of my human weaknesses.

“No. I"m thirsty though, I would like a drink.”

Marianne flew from her chair and an instant later was at my side, a can of Coke in her hand. I accepted it gratefully, sipping the icy cold liquid and enjoying the coolness on my throat. Marianne had discovered Coca Cola was one of my addictions – I loved the stuff.

The tension in the room was tangible, everyone seemed hopeful of a message from their own loved ones. Taking another sip of Coke, I closed my eyes, searching the voices again. I picked out the loudest strand, recognizing it as a voice which was exceptionally dominant and determined that I listen. I looked directly at Ben and he blanched visibly, becoming even paler than normal. “Ben, your brother Galen is speaking. He wants me to tell you how apologetic he is, for what your father asked you to do. He wishes he could have gone in your place, but he was destined for the church and you were always stronger and braver than he was. When you were sent—” My eyes widened as I heard Galen"s next words, finding it difficult to believe what he was saying. “To the Crusades, he prayed for your safety day and night. He knew you were a strong and noble knight and he prayed to God for your safe deliverance from the holy war against the… Saracens?” I hadn"t heard the word before and I looked to Ben, seeking confirmation.

“The Muslims,” he explained quietly. “That"s what we called them in 1189, when we set out for the Holy Land under King Richard"s leadership, to fight Saladin.”

It took a minute to recover my composure. If what Ben and his brother had said was true, the man sitting opposite me was born nearly nine hundred years ago. Shaking my head in disbelief, I returned to listening to his brother"s words. “He wants you to know he"s watched you throughout the years, and he was wrong about vampires. He told you they were Satan"s spawn, condemned by God and destined to walk the depths of Hell for all eternity. He knows now that was wrong. He understands you were created without your consent, that when you were injured and nearly killed in the Siege of Acre, you were in no position to stop… Bathbesa from taking you. He understands you intrigued her, a Christian knight in a foreign world, and he"s grateful she cared for you when the transformation was complete.” I frowned, mentally asking Galen to repeat what he"d said. “Galen believes you have truly proven your worth, and he believes God loves you and there is promise of an afterlife.” The image faded and I frowned, not sure that what I"d been asked to repeat made sense. It obviously made perfect sense to Ben – he was leaning forward, hands clasped together in front of his face as if he were praying. Rowena was rubbing his back when he looked up at me, flashing a grateful smile that was stunningly beautiful in its intensity.

Lucas apparently sensed my confusion and leaned forward to whisper against my ear. “Vampires throughout history have been unwavering in our belief that we have no soul. We are under the impression we are destined to wander through eternity, with no hope of heaven or an afterlife. What you have just shared with Ben, has given him hope there is something else for us.”

“Oh,” I breathed.

The more I used the ability, the easier it was to control. I"d been completely fearful before and avoided it at all costs – now it seemed more of a gift, than a curse. Trawling through the voices again, I located another strand. It was a large group of people, more than I"d had in any other vision. They all spoke together, competing for attention and I had to warn them sharply that only one person could speak. An elderly woman stepped forward, and the others disappeared into the grey mist behind her where they continued to mutter indistinguishably. She spoke rapidly with a strong Southern accent and I turned to Striker.

“Striker, your Mom is with me,” I grinned, “and about a dozen of your siblings.” Striker returned the grin, his eyes lit up and for the first time since I"d met him, he seemed completely friendly. “Your Mom"s… yelling at me. She"s asking why you insist on being known by your surname, when you have such a lovely given name, and don"t you know how proud you should be? You were named after your Great-Granddaddy and he was responsible for bringing the family to America from Norway, and you should be… damned proud of your background, you fool boy.” I chewed my lip, realizing that in repeating his mother"s words, I was actually beginning to mimic her articulation. When his mother told me his given name, I couldn"t stop a giggle escaping from my lips, although I chose not to repeat it aloud. Did the others know he"d been saddled with such an unfortunate name? He certainly didn"t look like a Hiram.

yellingHiram“What?” Hiram growled suspiciously. Had he guessed what his mother had told me?

Hiram“Nothing.” I paused, concentrating on the woman whose rapid speech made my head spin. She said something so quickly; I didn"t understand it and asked her to repeat the words. When she did, I burst into laughter, taking a full minute to recover my composure.

“What did she say?” Striker demanded.

“She says you won"t take any notice of her, but she"s watched you… hunt, sees you taking on full-grown Grizzlies. She knows you"re immortal and all, but asks you to please stop giving your poor Momma kittens, and maybe go after something a little less ferocious.” I giggled, before I could finish relaying her message. “She wonders if you might consider hunting deer… or squirrels.”

The room erupted in laughter, Striker joining in. “Ate enough god-damn squirrels when I was a kid, growing up in Arkansas,” he muttered. He winked at me and I knew there was no way a man built like him would possibly consider hunting anything as mundane as a squirrel. I hoped his Mom wasn"t going to nag me, if he refused to take her advice.

Sipping the Coke, I picked through the voices again. Finding the one I was searching for, I listened carefully for a minute or two. I"d been watching Acenith from the corner of my eye; seen the look of apprehension in her eyes. She seemed almost frightened of any memories I might have for her. I didn"t know why and didn"t want to hurt her with anything I might reveal. “Acenith, your family is here with me.” I couldn"t place the clothing they wore; only that it was very old, possibly even medieval. “They are sorry you were treated so badly. They didn"t understand your ability, your capacity to help people with medicinal herbs and the placing of your hands to soothe and calm those who were in poor health. Witchcraft was feared, and they believed you were a witch and were frightened both for you, and of you.” Acenith watched me intently, her fingers gripped so tightly, I could see every tendon in her hands. “They understand now, that your ability wasn"t harmful and they"re apologizing for the trials you were put through.”

Acenith was trembling; she gripped her arms around her waist as if she was trying to hold herself in one piece. Behind her, Ripley placed his hands on her shoulders and Rowena stood up hurriedly, walking across to wrap her arms around her friend.

“Your mother, Odette, is very grateful Ripley had already noticed you, and was aware of your talents. They thank the Lord every day that he was there to save you and help you escape, when you were accused of witchcraft and sentenced to… trial by ordeal?”

“A barbaric practice,” Ripley spat. “Medieval nonsense.”

Inhaling a deep breath, I listened to Acenith"s mother again. Behind her was a man who"d identified himself as Acenith"s father, Alexandre, and Acenith"s sister stood beside them. “Your sister… Marguerite,” I glanced at Acenith, unable to prevent tears filling my eyes and running slowly down my cheeks, “your sister begs your forgiveness for accusing you of witchcraft. She never stopped loving you.”

“Can they hear me?” Acenith sobbed, her turmoil evident.

I shook my head. “I don"t know— I"m not sure.” I spoke to her family for a few seconds, trying to get a handle on what could and couldn"t be done with this strange ability, now that I was embracing it. “They can"t hear you, but I can give them your message.”

Acenith closed her eyes for a long moment, as if she physically needed to draw on her courage before she spoke. “Tell Marguerite she is forgiven. I love her, and she is forgiven.”

I repeated her words to Marguerite, watching as the young woman dropped to her knees, sobbing hysterically.

“Did you tell her?” Acenith demanded.

“Yes.” I shut my eyes tightly; overwhelmed by the pain both Acenith and her family had suffered. Once again, the spirits forms disappeared into a grey haze and I sighed heavily, rubbing my temples to ease the pressured ache.

“I think you"ve had enough,” Lucas warned.

“Not yet, Lucas, please.” The voices were diminishing, although a number of people still shared my head. It was easier to locate the strands and I selected the next one, listening to the voice. I didn"t have to close my eyes now, could do this with less concentration than before. “Ripley, I have your mother, Lady Caroline with me. She has the most beautiful grey eyes. She wants to thank Lucas for saving you.” I lifted my gaze to Lucas; saw he was watching me curiously. “Ripley"s mother knew he was beginning to lose hope after so long trailing through the world with no sense of family, no sense of hope after becoming a vampire. He had lost everyone he"d ever loved and she knew you would be Ripley"s salvation, that you would accept him and offer him the support and love he needed. She thanks you for saving her son.” I turned back to Ripley, catching the open inquisitiveness in his gaze. I wondered if he could read my mind when I did this, after he"d had so much trouble getting into my head.

“Yes, I can hear them,” Ripley confirmed, glancing around at his friends. “It"s the first time I"ve gotten a clear voice from Miss Duncan"s head, and I can hear our families, as she hears them. I can hear my mother speaking, as clearly as if she were standing in the room with me.” He brought his gaze to me, his expression apologetic. “I was beginning to believe you were schizophrenic – your head seemed to be the equivalent of Grand Central Station in rush hour. So many voices, no way of searching your mind for your own thoughts amongst so much traffic. Now I can understand why. Please, go on.”

“She wants you to know how much she and your father loved you. She knew they were going to die, after being accused of treason; you were all going to the gallows. When they heard you had died in prison, she thought her heart had broken. It was only after—” I swallowed deeply. “After they"d been executed, they discovered Wallace had saved you, by creating you as a vampire within your cell. He made it seem as if you had died of natural causes, before the guards had the opportunity to execute you. Wallace arranged for your body to be transported away from the prison and buried, allowing him to oversee your rising three days later.”

Ripley nodded. “Lord Stuyvesant saved my life that night.”

“Your mother and your father, Earl Ripley, couldn"t be prouder of the man you have become, and what you have worked so hard to achieve in your life. They are pleased by your decision to try and control your bloodlust, your willingness to make your existence a better thing.” Once again, the vision slowly faded and I leaned against Lucas"s chest, my head aching in earnest now. This was proving to be a drain, involving so much emotion, and so many voices.

“Miss Duncan.” When Ripley spoke, his voice was filled with genuine emotion. “Charlotte. Thank you. I don"t believe I can ever repay you, for what you"ve shared with me this evening.”

CharlotteI smiled. “You"re welcome.”

“Charlotte.”

I turned to William, saw discomfort etched into his striking features, and he let his eyes flicker down to Katie before returning his gaze to mine. “I think I would prefer not to hear any memories.”

“Of course. But any time, if you should change your mind.”

He smiled grimly, the muscle in his jaw clenched. I couldn"t imagine why he didn"t want to contact his family, although if he"d only been a vampire for a short period, maybe they were still alive. Which still didn"t explain why Katie was here with him. If a four-year-old child was being kept in the loop, what had happened to other members of his family? I decided to listen for his ancestors later, and see if they were available to me, but for now, I was happy to abide by his wishes.

I felt Lucas press a gentle kiss against my neck and I smiled up at him. Nothing would be a surprise here; I already knew what to expect, having met these particular people more than once in recent weeks. I pulled the strand towards me and saw the faces clearly in my mind. Lucas resembled his father, with the same dark hair and broad shoulders. “Your parents, Patrick and Mary are here, they"re happy to have the opportunity to talk to me and they… like me, and think you and I are two halves that make a whole. They are very proud of the man you have become, and they were pleased that Florien created you, because it meant one member of the Tine family survived. They are all happy and together in the afterlife. Margaret apologizes for getting sick in the first place… she suffers guilt because she brought the illness into your home, and I don"t think she understands that it was something she had no control over.” I smiled. “I"ll have to talk to her about that.”

Lucas pulled me closer, wrapping me in his arms and I gazed into his eyes. “And Charlotte is here, she wishes you could have stayed with her. She wants you to know she had a happy life, she married, and had four children, three boys and one girl, but she never forgot about you.” I paused for a moment, watching surprise blossom in his eyes. “She"s happy that you found me, and wishes us a very happy future together.” I raised my hand to touch his cheek, brushing my fingers across his jaw. “She sends you her love, and she wants you to know that she had a very long, very happy life.”

The image faded and there was a stunned silence for a minute. Lucas continued to gaze at me, his focus intense.

Striker was the first to speak. “So I"m confused. What was the part about Charlotte? Who"s Charlotte?”

Lost in my own thoughts, I was too drained to speak and it was Lucas, who answered Striker"s question.

“Charlotte was my fiancée, before my creation. When I met this Charlotte,” he touched my cheek with exquisite gentleness, “I thought perhaps her sharing the same name was destiny, in some way. Now I"m quite sure of it.” He looked down at me, his eyes softening. “How long have you known?”

this“For the past few weeks,” I admitted quietly. “She"s come to me quite a lot, it started when I moved into the cottage, but since I"ve been here, she"s been talking to me regularly.”

“Charlotte,” Ben spoke. I hadn"t heard him move, but he"d knelt beside us, taking my hands in his. “From every one of us, we thank you for the gift you have given us. We have lived so long without our families; to have them express their thoughts through you was probably the most extraordinary gift we have ever received. On behalf of us all, I thank you.”