“Oh that, it’s just the ... um, name I gave to the gene I found,” Ciaran explained.
Folding his arms in front of his massive chest, David nodded. “I like the sound of it.” He knew that was all the recognition Ciaran needed to make him offer a more detailed explanation. And he was right.
“It’s really an anomaly, not even natural as far as I can tell,” Ciaran said, fully aware that he was rambling, but fully unable to stop himself. “Like I said I’m doing some tests on it, but it’s not like I can create a gene on my own. I’m good, but I’m not that good.”
“Oh I wouldn’t say that at all,” David interrupted. “I wish I had a brain like yours. Genes, elements
... Atlantium, it’s all Greek to me.”
Laughing along with David, Ciaran just couldn’t keep quiet. “Plus I don’t really have the resources for an experiment that advanced and unless I can do that I don’t think I’ll be able to find The Well.”
The second the words tumbled out of his mouth, he knew they were not the words David wanted to hear. Perhaps he had said them deliberately. Ciaran knew after the incidents that had taken place during The Carnival for the Black Sun that David’s main desire was to locate The Well in order to destroy it, and if he succeeded, what would that mean for his family? Could Ciaran really help David in this endeavor that had the potential to destroy an entire race? For the longest time he had tried not to think about it, he had tried to convince himself that there could be other outcomes, but the more he thought about it the more he knew there could be only one devastating consequence. Regardless of how abandoned he sometimes felt, he couldn’t betray Ronan, his mother, and everyone else. Could he?
Staring into David’s powerful face, feeling the hypnotic pull of his eyes, he wasn’t sure. The only thing he was sure of was that being in David’s company felt right and he didn’t want to be tossed aside and ignored yet again. “There’s always Saoirse.”
“Your sister?” David asked. “What exactly do you mean?”
Like Pandora after she lifted the lid, Ciaran realized there was no turning back. “Saoirse is an untapped resource,” Ciaran began. “You know she’s the child of two water vamps and still human.”
“Yes, of course, doesn’t everyone?”
Swallowing hard, Ciaran continued. “Then you must also know that she possesses incredible strength and unrealized abilities.” Ciaran paused to keep his voice from shaking, but David nodded for him to carry on. “She might be human, but her blood isn’t, it’s scientifically impossible. Something must be preventing her from evolving into the creature she was born to be.”
Resting his chin on his clenched hands, David absorbed Ciaran’s information. “Yes, Chow was right, you’re a regular Einstein,” David commented. “Even if I could think like you can, I wouldn’t know what to do with all that knowledge.”
Luckily, Ciaran did.
“Let me compare Michael’s blood to Saoirse’s, let me conduct experiments on her as well,” Ciaran suggested. “She has got to be linked to The Well even if she isn’t aware of it.”
“Do you think she’ll go along with it?”
Ciaran didn’t blink. “If I can’t convince her, I’ll do it without her consent.”
“It looks like you have a lot of work to do.” Without another word, David rose and walked to the door, turning back to face Ciaran only when he reached the archway. “Thank you,” David said humbly.
“I only wish I could count on everyone the way I can count on you.”
Only after David was gone did Ciaran feel the sweat on his brow and his heart thump so wildly in his chest that he thought it might rip open his skin and burst through his shirt. He had no idea why he had offered his sister as a sacrifice, he had no idea why he was allowing his partnership with David to persist, but he knew it, ultimately, made him feel good. It was refreshing to have a purpose and be treated like an adult, like someone with worth and expertise. He didn’t know where any of this might lead, but he knew that now his only choice was to forge ahead.
Hiding behind an expansive oak tree a few hundred yards away, Ronan felt the same way. As he watched David leave St. Albert’s, one thought entered his mind: he had to confront his brother. Had Ciaran learned nothing from the recent events that plagued Double A? Why in the world would he be meeting secretly with David? What could they possibly have to talk about that wouldn’t end in disaster? The only thing that stopped him from racing into the lab and dealing with his brother’s duplicity head on was hearing Michael call his name.
“Ronan!” Michael cried out. “Where are you going?”
Stopping abruptly, Ronan turned around shocked to see Michael standing before him. His first instinct was to ask him why he was walking outside by himself, but he knew that would only serve to make Michael angry and was only a reaction to his just having seen David. Michael was capable of protecting himself; Ronan knew that. He also knew that Michael would understand what he had to do.
“I just saw David leave Ciaran’s lab,” Ronan explained. “I’ve got to make my brother understand he’d be insane to join his side.”
But Michael didn’t understand. “You’ll be wasting your time.”
“How can you say such a thing?” Ronan cried.
“Because it’s the truth,” Michael said, growing exasperated. “If Ciaran doesn’t get the severity of the situation by now, there’s nothing you can say or do that will change his mind.”
“So what are you saying?” Ronan shouted, throwing his hands up in the air. “That I should do nothing?”
“Yes, that’s exactly what I’m saying.”
Ronan couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Frustrated, he kicked a rock with such force that it flew about twenty feet above the highest tree before disappearing out of sight. His thoughts ricocheted in his mind: Doesn’t Michael know that David isn’t going to stop trying to find The Well simply because he failed the first time? Doesn’t Michael know that David’s trying to coerce Ciaran into helping him defeat our kind? Doesn’t Michael know that we could lose Ciaran forever?
“Michael knows all of that, Ronan.”
Stunned that Michael could telepathically hear him even though he wasn’t consciously calling out to him, Ronan realized that his boyfriend was harnessing his vampire powers at an increasingly faster speed. He was impressed, but he was still concerned. “So does Michael know what Ronan should do?”
“Stay out of it,” Michael said. “Whatever Ciaran decides to do is his choice.”
That wasn’t advice, that was an observation. “Well, yes,” Ronan stuttered. “But ...”
Michael wrapped his arms around Ronan and drew him in close. “But what? You’ve done everything you can for him,” Michael continued. “You’ve been a good brother, not the best in the entire history of the world, but a lot better than when I first got here.”
Their lips were so close that Ronan was finding it hard to concentrate on what Michael was saying, but he knew the words were important so he forced himself to listen. “If Ciaran can’t see that and if he wants to work with Them like my father has chosen to do, well then as hard as it is to admit, you don’t have the power to stop him.”
Ronan had made the smart choice; it was what he needed to hear. Yes, he was a vampire and stronger than Ciaran in so many ways, but he was still his brother and because of that their relationship would always be complicated. It might serve them both best if Ronan stepped away and let Ciaran choose his own path. Ronan just prayed he didn’t choose the one that would destroy him.
Pushing thoughts of his brother out of his mind, Ronan exhaled, releasing a long, slow stream of air so he could focus on the handsome boy wrapped in his arms. “Well, love, only seventeen and already such a wise, old sage.”
Michael felt Ronan’s lips press into his, and he started to chuckle. “Maybe Saoirse’s right after all and I really am some special god.”
Without letting go of Michael, Ronan knelt and laid him down on the ground. Ignoring th
e rough earth under them, the boys kissed and laughed and caressed each other in the shadow of the trees. “I don’t know if you’re a god,” Ronan whispered. “But I do know that you’re the ideal husband for me.”
Abruptly, Michael pushed Ronan away and sat up. “Hey, wait a second.”
“What’s wrong?” Ronan asked, trying to get Michael to resume his horizontal position.
“You still haven’t told me your secret.”
Not now, now is not the time. “Tomorrow,” Ronan said. “After our feeding.”
Thankful that that was enough to satisfy Michael’s curiosity, Ronan lay on top of him and kissed him deeply so he could satisfy his own growing desire.
The boys were so connected to one another, so lost in each other’s embrace, they didn’t even hear Imogene start to sing.
Had they listened to something other than the sound of their own breathing, had they reminded themselves to be aware of the world around them, they would have heard the clear, dulcet sounds of Imogene’s tune. They could have followed the melody all the way to the cave where she had resided since her partial-death and uncovered her hiding place. But they were preoccupied, too engrossed in exploring each other’s bodies, and for the moment weren’t interested in exploring things that were just out of their reach. Imogene wouldn’t have any new visitors today; she would still only have one companion—Brania. Both, however, were starting to become more aware that their constant cohabitation was losing its novelty.
“Don’t stop!” Brania ordered when Imogene’s singing was replaced with silence.
“I’m tired,” Imogene replied, leaning her head against the soft, white satin on the inside of the coffin.
Brania understood the need for children to occasionally be disobedient, but her own child should know better and not behave like a savage human. “It’s my favorite aria,” Brania said, trying to find a tone that would appease Imogene.
“I don’t care!” Imogene yelled. “I told you I’m tired and I don’t want to sing.”
Walking slowly toward the coffin, Brania felt her face contort, her hands curl into two clenched fists. She wanted to be a good parent, she wanted her daughter to know that she was loved and cherished, but she also wanted to hear her music. When she reached the side of the coffin, Imogene turned her head away from her, and Brania had to resist the urge to grab Imogene by the scruff of the neck and force her to look at her, show her the respect that she deserved as her mother, her savior.
Instead, she bent her head and willed her voice to sound caring and doused with a mother’s love.
“Please, Imogene, do what you do best and make your mother happy.”
When Imogene resumed her singing, when the cave was once again filled with the girl’s sweet, lilting voice, Brania was horrified. She was no longer listening to Imogene sing; she was no longer in the cave. She had been transported back through time and was a young child, standing in a field with cornhusks almost taller than she was. In her hand was a rock, and crouched next to her was her father.
He whispered into her ear the words that would entice her to commit the evil act she didn’t want to perform, the words that would convince her to use the rock to strike the little boy who was running toward her, the little boy who thought she had called him over to play, not to die.
“Please, Brania, do what you do best and make your father happy.”
Repulsed, Brania realized she was indeed her father’s daughter.
chapter 4
For the first time in years, Michael was excited about the start of the new school year. In Weeping Water it had always filled him with contrasting emotions—he embraced his education and loved learning new things in most all of his subjects, he just hated feeling like an outsider among his classmates. It was how he had felt all through grammar school and junior high. He had thought his freshman year at Two W High School might have been a new beginning, but he had been wrong.
Everything changed when he transferred to Double A. Not only was the education superior, the social aspect was immensely improved as well.
But then last semester, his first after crossing over and being transformed into a vampire, the luster had faded. He had thought that as an immortal creature education was now beneath him. Thanks, in part, to Ronan’s guidance, he had quickly learned school was more important than ever before. If he were going to live forever, it would help to acquire as much knowledge as possible. Sitting on the bed together side by side, their legs casually intertwined, Michael and Ronan reviewed their schedules to see what the new term would offer them. And of course to see if they shared any classes.
“Just two,” Michael said. “British lit first thing in the morning and Advanced Geometry in the afternoon.”
“Really?” Ronan asked. “My head might explode.”
Michael laughed, but didn’t agree. He found Father Fazio’s somnolent lectures so boring he usually found himself falling asleep in class. “The only way my head’s going to explode in Father Faz’s class is if his voice puts me in a coma and I crack my skull on the desk.”
“No, I’m talking about Brit lit,” Ronan corrected. “I’ll start my day with the two hottest guys on campus, you and McLaren.”
This time Michael laughed even harder and had to agree; McLaren was the most handsome professor they had, complete with Hollywood tan, dazzling smile, and a worked-out body. But he whacked Ronan in the shoulder with his class schedule just the same. “Don’t you get any crazy ideas about becoming teacher’s pet and volunteering for extracurricular activities,” Michael warned.
Grabbing Michael’s wrist, Ronan gave him a tug so he fell into his lap and joked, “But think of all the extra knowledge I can acquire from private sessions.”
They were laughing so hard they didn’t hear the knock at the door and only became aware of David’s presence when he cleared his throat. “Forgive me for interrupting playtime.”
His words hurtled toward the boys like a rush of cold wind. Instinctively, their bodies separated; an intruder was present and they were on guard, prepared to defend themselves. Ronan felt Michael’s heart race as if it were beating in his own chest, and he placed a hand on Michael’s knee to prevent him from getting off the bed. No need to give David a reason to get violent. Ronan prevented Michael from attacking David, but not from speaking.
“It’s impossible for you to enter our home without an invitation!” Michael barked.
David howled. He threw his head back and his laughter engulfed the room. He cherished moments like these, when his opponents proved themselves to be nothing more than fools. “Oh Michael, I thought you were smarter than that,” David chided. “Haven’t you yet discovered that conventional rules have no meaning here at Archangel Academy?”
Feeling like a jerk, Michael felt the temperature of his blood rise. David was right. Everything he knew about vampires was turning out to be antiquated folklore; the truth of the species was much different than the legends. Plus, Double A had its own set of complex rules and regulations, all of which defied logic. Fine, Michael thought, score one for the redheaded beast.
“What do you want, David?” Ronan asked.
Even though he knew Ronan had addressed him informally on purpose, the muscles in David’s cheeks still flinched. He decided to ignore the breach in decorum and answer the question as directly as it was asked. “The new term is about to begin, so Michael will need to move his car from its current location,” David said. “It makes a colorful lawn ornament, but it’s impinging the growth of the grass.
And our landscapers work so hard to keep the grounds pristine.”
“How do you know the car is mine?” Michael demanded.
Sneering at the boy, David felt his body stiffen and his fury swell. If Michael were alone, he would use all his preternatural strength, all the strength endowed to him by Zachariel, to attack, destroy, and kill the disgusting creature who dared to defy him. He would rip the flesh off his bones with his own fangs and spit out the pieces of rancid
meat as he watched Michael’s dirty, hybrid blood pour from his ravaged body and flood the room. He would cry victoriously as he rammed a stake through Michael’s heart. He would smile as Michael’s body burst into flames. He would accept the ash that would spray over him as glory from his god. But Michael wasn’t alone; Ronan was beside him, and David understood all too well the power of love. It wouldn’t be wise to attack the boy with his lover present.
David might be growing impatient, but he wasn’t impulsive.
He also wasn’t going to give Michael the answer that he wanted to hear: that he knew the car was his because Michael’s father had told him so. “There’s a big, black bow on the roof of the car, and you’ve recently celebrated a birthday,” David said. “Whose else could it be?”
Before Michael could respond with another antagonistic remark, Ronan intervened. “Just tell us where we should move it to.”
David’s grin became genuine. It was heartwarming to hear even the most disobedient student speak words of compliance. “The parking lot outside the headmaster’s office,” David instructed.
Pressing into Michael’s knee with a bit more pressure, Ronan replied, “That won’t be a problem.”
The boys watched David’s grin morph back into a smirk, and they knew he felt as if he had won this little confrontation even before his words confirmed it. “I didn’t think there would be.”
Standing in the doorway, David turned to offer one last piece of instruction. “And remember, students are only allowed to drive on the weekends and only into Eden.”
Although he turned his back on them to leave the room, it didn’t signal the end of their conversation. Michael was determined to have the last word. “I didn’t think rules had any meaning here at Double A?”
When David turned back to face them, Ronan could see the man’s body vibrate, and he could tell David was fighting the urge to transform into his true, vampiric self. He knew that David wanted his fangs to descend and his eyes to blacken in order to show Michael that he wasn’t dealing with a mere adult but an ancient being who possessed extraordinary power, power that was begging to be released.
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