Knowledge Hurts

Chapter 4: Explanations

Chapter 4: Explanations“Food's up!” Nonny announced from the kitchen doorway.

There was a noisy stampede as the Lingard men raced towards the kitchen and Nonny grumbled at them good-naturedly. “Charlotte, you stay there, honey. I'll bring yours out.”

I sank gratefully onto the floor, content to sit and relax after treating everyone's injuries. Nick, Rafe and Ralph had returned about half an hour ago, loaded down with bag upon bag of blood. Despite Conal's ministration of Tylenol, my head was still pounding and I was nauseated.

Nonny appeared with a tray and Striker whistled. “Lottie - you gonna eat all of that? Seriously?”

There was no comparison between the pile of food on my plate and what the men were eating - mine was at least double the quantity. Nonny had outdone herself with three large steaks, a couple of baked potatoes slathered in sour cream, collard greens and two cobs of corn, smothered in butter. “Absolutely,” I confirmed, l*****g my lips and tucking in.

Conal slipped down onto the floor beside me and grinned at Striker. “Charlotte has the metabolism of a hummingbird. We have to keep stuffing her with food, otherwise she starts dropping weight rapidly,” he explained. “With all the training, we discovered very quickly that you have to keep feeding her. Constantly.”

“She eats like a world championship wrestler,” Phelan agreed, his voice filled with admiration. “I've never seen anyone who can consume as much food as Lottie can.”

“She ate well enough at our house,” Striker said, eyeing my plate doubtfully. “But nothing like that.”

Jerome was chatting to Nonny, who'd joined us for dinner. “You're doing the right thing with the steak, Nonny, she'll benefit from anything with a lot of protein to help her body recover from the blood loss.”

Nonny nodded her understanding. “We've got protein shakes in the refrigerator.”

“Excellent,” Jerome smiled. “She should have one now, two more each day and she'll need iron rich foods for the next week or two. Plenty of leafy green vegetables, lots of red meat.”

I smiled at Jerome. “Back to being my Doctor?”

He grinned and winked. “Someone has to keep an eye on you, young woman. You have a penchant for getting yourself into trouble astonishingly quickly.”

“I'm not doing it on purpose,” I grumbled good-naturedly. The food was improving how I felt; despite Nonny's ministrations I hadn't eaten since before we left early this morning and it was apparent hunger hadn't helped my mood or the queasiness.

“Nah, trouble finds her naturally,” Nick remarked. He was sitting at the foot of Lucas's bed, plowing through his own dinner. “Though I gotta admit, she's a damn good fighter… for a human girl.”

“Thanks for the rousing endorsement,” I laughed and the sound surprised me. It felt like I hadn't laughed in forever. Glancing around at my friends, for the first time since this horror began I was both thankful and grateful for the blessings I'd received. The Tines were weak and had suffered enormous tribulations, but I'd healed their external injuries and they would regain the strength they'd once had in time. Already some of them were looking much better, despite still being covered in dirt and grime, their irises were gradually returning to normal and the blood intake had been put to work inside their bodies, their lips no longer blistered and cracked. Lucas and Striker had already discussed showering after dinner and Ben had requested his bed be raised as he was more comfortable sitting up now the wounds were healed over.

“You did good, kid,” Phelan agreed on his way back from the kitchen. He had a six pack of beers and handed them out to the werewolves and shifters before settling on a wooden chair. “Although I have to agree with Conal - that fearless rune makes you crazy reckless.”

I poked my tongue out at him and devoured some more food, taking the protein shake Nonny proffered. “I don't know about me being crazy - but I'm fairly certain the Consiliului are all nuts.”

“Why would the Consiliului attack a werewolf pack?” Ben questioned aloud, his forehead creased into a worried frown. “What possible reason would they have for doing that?”

“For the same reasons they're attacking other supe's - to start a war,” Conal stated soberly. “From what Charlotte's figured out, they want control of all the supernatural groups around the world. They're intending to kill anyone who isn't a pureblood.”

“They've attacked other packs? How do you know this?” Lucas asked.

As succinctly as possible, Conal explained the entire situation. How I received information from the spirits and the nightmares I regularly endured.

Epi joined in the discussion, explaining my role as Nememiah's Child and the history of the Angel children, their role on earth and my responsibility to create peace amongst the supernatural groups. He discussed his vast knowledge of Nememiah's Children, how they'd died out over a thousand years ago and how his study of them had become his life's work.

Conal took over again and I was happy to sit back and let them deal with it. I wasn't entirely certain the Tines were up to this discussion so soon, but looking at their shocked and worried faces, I knew it wouldn't make a difference whether they were told later rather than sooner - they were going to be distressed either way. “We discovered there was another Angel child - Archangelo. The Consiliului have created him and he's a hybrid vampire and angel. They wanted Charlotte to complete the set - they were planning to create Charlotte and then have Archangelo and Charlotte create a race of demon/angel hybrids.” The dark look in his black eyes showed exactly what he thought of that idea.

“Charlotte, you know that's an impossibility,” Lucas remarked.

“No it isn't, apparently.” I grimaced, laying my knife and fork on the now-empty plate. “Epi believes my blood is a genetic characteristic which can't be overridden. If I have a child - with anyone - whether they're human or supernatural, the child retains the angel blood. If the Drâghici had succeeded, the process would have created me, but Epi believes Archangelo and I retain the ability to reproduce and the children would be a hybrid mixture of both demon and angel blood.”

“That's entirely correct,” Epi agreed sharply. “I am rarely wrong.”

“Speaking of Archangelo, Lott, that was an outstanding throw. Never thought you'd be capable of something like that,” Striker announced proudly.

“I've had plenty of practice,” I said. “For the past three months, it's all we've done. Epi's teaching me everything he knows about Nememiah's Children, he and Conal have been training me to fight.” I glanced at Lucas and saw jealousy simmering in his expression, before he quickly swallowed it down.

“I thought you'd killed him,” Phelan remarked. He crossed his ankle over one knee, looking thoughtful. “You're positive it was him you saw?”

I nodded. “It was definitely him, standing at the gates in a bloodstained shirt. He watched as I entered the portal, not moving, just… staring.” I shrugged. “At least I gave the Drâghici something else to think about - I doubt they were thrilled that the tourists got an eyeful of Archangelo like that. Hard to explain away the blood.”

“If he really is vampire, he'll be difficult to kill,” Holden said. “A chest wound would never do it, Charlotte. You shouldn't have been able to pierce his chest with that weapon the way you did.” Holden sipped from his bottle, looking thoughtful. “Are you sure he's vampire at all?”

“You saw him yourself, Holden. He is vampire, undoubtedly. He smells like vampire,” Ripley announced. “But definitely something more.”

“We don't take a hit like that to the chest,” Striker argued. “A knife, a throwing star, whatever the hell that thing is that Charlotte threw - wouldn't have any impact on vampire flesh.”

“A silver knife did,” Lucas responded quietly. “You bear scars as proof. Perhaps the weapon Charlotte wielded has that same capability.”

A shocked silence descended in the room and Striker's eyes flashed with fury and blatant frustration.

“Charlotte's weapons aren't silver, that much we do know. Frankly, we don't know enough about Archangelo to ascertain what he's capable of, or how to kill him. There have been no Angel children for over a thousand years and never one that's been created as vampire. Obviously he bleeds and his skin seems as fragile as Charlotte's,” Conal said, his composure diminishing the tension which had permeated the church. “But I guess we don't know whether the usual ways of killing a vampire will work either, until we try it.”

“Killed many vampires?” Striker asked coldly.

“No, but I'd be a fool if I didn't know how it was done,” Conal retorted.

“Striker. Enough.” Lucas's voice was coldly authoritative. “These people have provided us rescue and shelter. You will give them respect.”

The battle Striker fought to still his tongue was in evidence, from the clenched fists to the sharp line of his compressed lips. He focused on his hands, until he inhaled visibly and the muscles in his shoulders loosened. “My apologies,” he muttered.

“I assume Archangelo must be killed,” Jerome questioned.

“There's no choice,” I announced. “The Consiliului are killing indiscriminately in their quest for power. They've already murdered dozens that we know of, maybe more and they're using Archangelo to help them do it. Archangelo's a dangerous weapon at their disposal. If it's a choice between killing him or allowing the Consiliului to proceed with their plans and attempt to capture me to… mate with him, I'll choose killing him.”

They all lapsed into thoughtful silence and I waited, wondering what they were thinking. Were they shocked? Were they repulsed that I would consider killing someone without a second thought? A quick peek at Lucas from beneath lowered lashes confirmed he was watching me, but his face was mask-like, with no emotion detectable.

“Come along, Katie. Time for a bath. And guess what? Uncle Epi has got a real bath for you now. No more showers.”

Nonny captured the little girls hand and led her towards the back of the church. I kept forgetting we had a small child amongst us and should all be careful about what we discussed in her presence. Would she have nightmares tonight? With everything she'd seen and heard today, it wouldn't be surprising. I knew I would probably dream about what I'd seen and done - and the dreams wouldn't be pleasant.

“How many of the vampires were at Sfantu Drâghici?” Epi questioned, after assisting Jerome to exchange empty blood bags for fresh ones on the women.

“Three,” Conal answered. “One of them was the blonde guy with the curls.” He glanced at me for confirmation.

“His name is Arawn. We met two others, Odin and Hyperion, but we didn't have photos of them.”

“So that makes six?” Epi confirmed.

“Seven,” Lucas said. “There are seven members of the Consiliului. The three you mentioned, plus Bellona, Qadesh, Bendis and Enlil.” He glanced pointedly towards the beds where the women lay, before his gaze returned to me. It was apparent he wanted this subject deferred and I nodded my acknowledgement.

“And there was one kickass demon,” Marco added with a grin. “That one was a monster.”

Epi abruptly sank down onto the edge of Holden's bed. “A demon? What did it look like?”

I shrugged, sipping my drink. “Big. Black. Ugly. Sharp pointy teeth, big snappy claws. The usual.”

“As I regularly tell you, young lady, sarcasm is the lowest form of wit,” Epi chided.

“Well on a humor scale of one to ten, sarcasm is the best I've got right now,” I replied. Epi's beady eyes studied me, pointedly waiting for an answer. I huffed out a heavy sigh. “About fifteen feet tall, two mouths, double rows of teeth, tentacle things all over its head, stood upright, big claws. How's that?”

Epi's brow puckered. “Who called this demon from the Otherworld?”

We all heard the change in Epi's voice. There was a tension, an edge which hadn't been there until Marco mentioned the demon we faced. “Archangelo. He created the pentagram.”

“You're certain of that?” He glanced from me to Nick for confirmation, his stare piercing.

Nick pursed his lips, raising one eyebrow. “Don't ask me, I was still a rock when this was happening.”

“Why, old man? What's so important?” Conal questioned.

“It means there is someone else involved in this plot and Archangelo is far more dangerous than I'd ever imagined.”

Nick straightened up, grey eyes narrowing. “What does that mean, exactly?”

Epi stood up and paced back and forth between the beds, deep in thought. “Archangelo is part angel, part vampire. He should not have the ability to call demons.”

“Well, he did,” I insisted. A glance at Conal confirmed his confusion mirrored mine. “Odin ordered Archangelo into the room when I called them on his existence. He told Archangelo to show me something to prove his power. He drew a pentagram and out popped an ugly big demon.”

“Who should have the ability to summon demons?” Conal asked.

“Warlocks, of course, as you have observed in the past few months, I can summon them. Some witches, although they tend to frown upon the practice. And wizards, although there are very few of them alive now.” He continued to pace up and down, while we silently watched.

“So you're saying?” Rafe pressed, losing patience with the protracted silence.

“I'm saying that the Consiliului have a warlock, a witch or possibly a wizard in their service. And whomever that is, they're teaching Archangelo the capacity to summon demons,” Epi explained impatiently, adjusting his glasses. “Of course I assumed with demon blood in his body, he would have extraordinary powers, beyond the normal abilities of an Angel child. But I'm stunned that he would be able to summon a demon. He should not have the magical talent to manage such a feat.”

“So… if you didn't expect them to be using demons, why, exactly, have we been fighting them for the past three months?” Conal asked dryly.

“Because I suspected we would come across them during this battle. It was the original role of Nememiah's Children to rid the world of demons. When I first met Charlotte, I thought that was why she'd presented herself now, because we faced a threat from the Otherworld. Now though, it appears we face a bigger threat than I first suspected. The demons aren't going to come from the Otherworld of their own volition. They're being summoned.”

Phelan caught my eye and lifted his eyebrows in question, and I shrugged blankly, shaking my head. I had absolutely no idea what Epi was getting at, why this was so important. “Okay, Epi. Spit it out. What the hell's wrong with this scenario that's got you so bothered?”

Epi stopped pacing and stared down at me, his eyes shadowed with exasperation. “I keep forgetting how little you know, child. One thousand years ago, Nememiah's Children were placed on this earth and part of their role was to rid the world of demons.”

“Yeah, we know that,” I interrupted, impatient to get to the point, whatever it might be.

Epi glared and continued. “Those demons found their own way here. There were many of them, but they came through from the Otherworld of their own free will - finding a way to portal to our world to create mischief and mayhem. Very few were actually summoned to our world from this end.” He shook his head, slipping his glasses off and wiping them on his tunic. “This is bad, very bad. If Archangelo has the ability to bring demons from the Otherworld…” he paused, placing his glasses carefully onto the bridge of his nose before he met my eyes. “Your description of the demon you faced today. It sounds like an Omias. Nasty things.” He shuddered a little. “You did remarkably well to battle it and survive. Which reminds me, you will require a poison sigil if it's fangs broke your skin. It carries a slow-reacting poison which will ultimately destroy your vital organs.”

“Gee, thanks for the heads up, Epi.” I drew the Hjördis from my pocket and marked a poison sigil hurriedly against my arm.

“Which, may I point out, is why I ask for an accurate description of these demons. Big, black and ugly does not suffice,” Epi retorted.

“Can we get back to the point of the matter?” Conal said impatiently. “What does it mean if Archangelo can call these demons?

“I originally surmised that Charlotte and Archangelo made their appearance now because we faced a future threat. Something that had not yet presented itself. Then when the Consiliului plan became apparent, I thought she'd been placed here in the present to ensure future harmony between supernaturals, assuming the threat was a war between the various supernatural groups. The Children of Nememiah had also undertaken that role. But now, to find out Archangelo is transformed and has the capability to summon demons…”

“The point, Epi,” I interrupted loudly. “Get to the damn point.”

He turned to stare at me, his blue eyes magnified behind his glasses. “Archangelo called one Omias from the Otherworld today. If he can call one, he can easily call one hundred. Or one thousand.”

“Can't we fight them?” Striker asked. Characteristically, Striker was delighted at the thought of a brawl, weak or not. His earlier anger had been washed away, replaced by cold enthusiasm for tackling the enemy.

“We can fight them. But we can't kill them,” Nick explained heavily.

Lucas frowned. “Why?”

I closed my eyes, understanding exactly what Epi's point was and my heart sank. “They can only be killed with the weapons, the Katchet and Philaris I used today. Those weapons can only be used by Nememiah's Children.” I sighed. “Which means I'm the only one who has the ability to send them back to the Otherworld.”

There was silence for a minute, while everyone digested Epi's words. Now that Epi had finally gotten to the point, I could see why he was so concerned. If Archangelo could summons hundreds, perhaps thousands of demons from the Otherworld… how could one person defeat them all? I studied my arms, determining which sigils still had an effect. It seemed courage was operational, because I was positive I should be feeling a lot more panic than I was.

“You're sure they can't be killed by us?” Striker said. “I know you guys are strong, granted, but what about a vampire? Could we kill them?”

Conal shook his head. “We've tried everything. Even with six of us against one demon, we can cause a huge amount of injuries, but it's the weapons Charlotte uses which return them to the Otherworld.”

“I should have made sure he was definitely dead,” I muttered.

“We certainly need to find out more about him, Charlotte. You will need to contact your spirit friends, see what advice they give you,” Epi ordered. “In the meantime,” he glanced at the large, old-fashioned wristwatch he wore. “I suggest you and Conal head back to the apartment, get some rest and meet us back here in the morning.”

If the ground had opened up and swallowed me - right at that minute I would have been grateful. Hell, if a demon had erupted from the ground and swallowed me, it would have been an improvement.

The silence was absolute, you could have heard a pin drop inside the church. Keeping my head low, I tried to ignore the uncomfortable sensation of staring eyes, everyone contemplating Epi's casual inference to Conal and I living together. Not that it wasn't true - we did live together.

Technically.

I hadn't considered what would happen after the Tines were rescued. There was no room here for us - the church was packed to the rafters with bodies. Between Nick and his men, Epi, Nonny and Katie, plus ten vampires, there was no room for anyone else and it made sense that those of us who lived in the area would return to our own homes. It was something I should have thought through - and while I was at it, much more thoroughly. The heat of a blush travelled across my chest, racing up my neck to fill my cheeks with color.

“We should stay here,” I mumbled self-consciously. “You'll need help…”

“Nonsense. There are plenty of us here to keep an eye on our charges,” Epi announced, completely oblivious to my distress. “You have had an eventful day, child. You need to rest, particularly after giving blood to your friends.”

Conal drew himself to his feet and held his hand out. “Sugar?” He made it a question, waiting for me to make up my mind.

I couldn't go. Could I? How would that look to my friends… to Lucas? On the other hand, it would hurt Conal's feelings if I abandoned him like yesterday's newspaper because Lucas was here… oh hell. I didn't know what to do. I let Conal pull me to my feet but kept my eyes downcast, not willing to face anyone.

Conal leaned forward to whisper against my ear. “Stay or go, Charlotte?”

An interminable period of time passed as I wavered in indecision. “I'll stay,” I finally whispered.

He straightened up, his back stiffening. A quick peek confirmed he was angry and hurting, the tension apparent in his stubbled jaw line. “Fine.” That one word confirmed everything was far from fine.

“Conal…”

He'd already dragged his car keys out of his pocket and turned on his heel to head towards the door.

“I'll see you in the morning,” Conal announced. He didn't turn back, refusing to look at me or anyone else.

I searched the room and found Ralph sitting by Ripley's bed, sending him a frantic message with my eyes. I was enormously relieved when he understood what I was trying to convey and stood up. “Conal, hang on. Phelan and I will come with you. I need another beer or two before I'll sleep, after the day we've had.”

Phelan whispered against my cheek as he left. “We'll keep an eye on him, don't worry.” With a gentle squeeze of my arm, he followed Conal and Ralph out and Epi locked the door behind them.

I wish I could say I held my head high and didn't allow the events of the past few minutes to affect me, focusing instead on caring for the Tines. I wish I could say I walked across to Lucas and sat down to have an open and honest discussion regarding my relationship with Conal.

I did neither one of those things. Instead, I kept my head lowered and walked away from them, skulking out to the small room Epi had created for Katie. Nonny had bathed the little girl and settled her to sleep, sitting on a stool beside the bed she was brushing her fingertips through Katie's dark hair. When she saw the stricken look on my face, she slipped from the room and returned a few minutes later with a pillow and blankets, creating a makeshift bed in the corner. I slumped down onto the blankets and Nonny settled cross-legged beside me, proving once again she was far more supple and active than most elderly people.

She brushed her fingers through my curls when I turned onto my side and stared at the wall. Despite feeling wretched, my eyes stubbornly remained dry and the lump in my throat was painful to swallow past. Nonny continued to gently finger brush my hair and it was only as I drifted off into a fitful sleep that I heard her speak, her voice low and tinged with sadness. “We can't help who we love, mi pequeño ángel.”