And successful. Nakano couldn’t resist, partly because Saoirse’s words and enthusiasm swayed him, but partly because he really did want to show off. Why not use his powers for good? Entertain the troops, make them see just how incredibly talented and superior he really was without plunging his fangs into any reluctant necks. It could be a nice change of pace. “Let’s do this!”
Some girls marched, some pranced, others just walked out onto the gym floor, but all of them worked together to shield Nakano from the audience in the bleachers until Talisa gave the command and the squad parted to reveal who they were hiding in the middle of their huddle. That’s when the crowd gasped. Collectively and loudly. And that’s when Nakano’s conviction waned. Saoirse’s pep talk was forgotten, and all he wanted to do was flee, run into The Forest and never come back again.
He peered into the crowd and saw his friends staring at him with their jaws open, incredulous looks etched into their faces. He didn’t have to read their minds; he just had to use his vampire hearing to listen to what they were saying to one another.
“This is why Kano quit the swim team a second time?” Michael asked Ronan rhetorically. “To be a cheerleader?”
Shaking his head Ronan replied, “Funny, I never thought of him as the cheery type.”
“Nakano’s a cheerleader now,” Fritz whispered to Ruby, who was just as surprised.
“I thought it was an all-girl squad,” she remarked.
“Technically, it still kind of is,” Ciaran quipped.
Oh really, Eaves, Nakano thought. Tell me what girl can do this?
On the first beat of the music Nakano took all the nervousness and anxiety and fear that he had been feeling and put it into motion, three continuous backflips to be exact. While the girls on the squad cheered, shook their pom-poms, and did cartwheels and some other basic gymnastic moves all around him, Nakano began a routine that would immediately attain legendary status at Double A. He flipped, he flew, he twisted, spiraled, and contorted in the air and at some point, possibly after his double flip over a small pyramid of cheerleaders, the audience forgot all about how weird it was to see a guy cheering with a bunch of girls, and they started cheering for him. Saoirse was beaming as Kano threw her up into the air so she could do a Russian split and land in his waiting arms.
“Told ya so,” she said, a bit out of breath. Not waiting for a reply, she jumped out of his arms to join the rest of the squad and give Nakano ample room to finish the routine. The crowd was now screaming so loudly the music couldn’t even be heard. No matter. Kano didn’t need music, just the satisfaction that thanks to some encouragement from a friend he hadn’t run.
Standing between Talisa and Saoirse, Nakano didn’t have to use any preternatural skill to know what the crowd thought of him. They were standing, stomping their feet, chanting his name. When Saoirse gave him a hug, he was so happy he couldn’t speak. And when Fritz and the others ran toward him and bombarded him with accolades and praise, he just smiled and felt his cheeks grow warm.
“Blimey, mate!” Fritz exclaimed, his hands gesticulating wildly, even the one that was holding onto Ruby. “Where’d you learn to do all that stuff?”
When you’re a vampire it sort of comes naturally. “Practice,” Nakano replied.
“You were amazing!” Michael cried. “I can’t believe you kept it a secret.”
“I can’t believe I had the guts to do it.”
“Are you bonkers?” Ronan shouted. “You’re Olympic caliber with moves like that.”
“Thanks, guys,” Kano said sheepishly, not at all used to such attention. “But you should all thank Saoirse. She’s the one who convinced me to join the squad.”
“Of course she did,” Ronan said. “Always full of surprises.”
Before they could all agree, Coach Blakeley announced that the first swimming race was about to begin and that all the teams needed to gather around the pool. As the group split up, Ciaran pulled Saoirse aside with Michael and Ronan close behind. When he spoke he made sure no one else could hear them. “So I heard someone had a right fine adventure this morning,” Ciaran said, his eyes shimmering with excitement.
Fussing with her pom-poms, Saoirse confirmed the rumor. “I know, I know, first non-water vamp to see The Well,” she replied.
“Which is bloody amazing!” Ciaran exclaimed.
“You’re not missing that much, though,” she said. “It’s a bit on the cold side.”
Ignoring his sister, Ciaran rambled on, his excitement building. “No! You can breathe underwater, and The Well is protecting you even though you’re human!” He turned to Ronan and Michael, who were still impressed by the morning’s events. “Sis, I don’t know what you are, but clearly The Well thinks you’re bloody special!”
Now that she had actually seen The Well, seen with her own eyes what her family and their race prattled on about and praised, she wasn’t sure she shared their opinion. If she was so special and if she had this unique connection to this thing, this mysterious and all-powerful entity, why wasn’t she more excited? Why didn’t she think her life had just gotten a huge upgrade and she was standing on the corner of Amazing Avenue and Smashingly Brilliant Street? Maybe because she had had more fun being tossed in the air by Nakano in front of a crowd of applauding spectators. She wasn’t sure.
Thankfully, boring self-examination could be postponed, because just then Blakeley’s voice boomed over the loudspeaker. “Let the games begin!”
Sitting in the bleachers David tried to push all worry from his mind and concentrate on the mundane competition that was playing out in front of him. It was sheer willpower that prevented him from ripping those damned T-shirts that Ruby had designed from the backs of the students. Wherever he looked he was assaulted by a red T-shirt with the number three and two white roses that spelled out three hundred. It was like Rhoswen was all around him, suffocating him. He had to ignore them, act as if they weren’t there, or else he’d lose his mind. He looked forward to watch the participants, marvel at their lithe, sculpted bodies, their muscular frames clad in tiny bathing suits in so many different colors, each representing a different school. He had no interest in them sexually, that was perverse, but they were a distraction, and he did appreciate and admire the discipline required to attain such physical beauty and supremacy. Nothing simple was ever achieved easily; he knew that better than most everyone. Except perhaps Brania.
“The competition is off to a rousing start,” she silently declared.
Looking straight ahead, David didn’t turn to the right where Brania was sitting next to him. He focused on Morgandy, in the middle lane of the pool, a few strokes ahead of his nearest competitor.
“Because I saw to it that it was planned meticulously.”
What a perfect segue, Father. Thank you. “I have a plan,” Brania said. She was also staring at Morgandy as he prepared to flip and swim the last lap of the race. She, however, had no interest in the match. She was merely acting like her father, aloof and indifferent, when just the opposite was true.
“Edwige is planning to feed tomorrow,” she informed him. “With my help you can follow her to The Well and do with it whatever your heart desires.”
David could no longer resist. He turned to face his daughter and was incensed to see that she still kept her eyes on the race.
“And just how will you be able to follow Edwige to The Well?” David asked.
“I have a secret weapon,” Brania replied.
David knew better than to ask what Brania’s secret weapon was. His only chance of finding out was to let his daughter think she had the upper hand.
“Excellent,” David replied tersely. “Then the time has come for you to be appropriately rewarded.”
“I was hoping you’d say that,” Brania replied, finally deigning to look at her father. “I’d like my reward beforehand, and since I know you’re such a busy man, I’ve taken the liberty of picking out the perfect gift.”
David hated giving in to anyone, es
pecially a woman, but he had no choice. Brania, for the moment was in control. “What would you like in return?” David asked. “Say the word, and your wish will be granted.”
“I think it’s time that you made another sacrifice,” Brania replied.
The word made David shudder. They both knew its significance. Somehow David understood that his daughter knew that he had sacrificed the life of his sister to ensure the fulfillment of his own desires. And Brania knew that David wouldn’t want his secret to be learned by the masses. Even vampires have an ethical code, and the brutal murder of one’s blind sister sort of crossed that line.
Brania thought it was the perfect time to cross another.
“I want to be an only child again,” she said, clutching the white rose that she had tucked inside her skirt pocket. “I’d like you to kill Jean-Paul.”
“What!?” David cried.
The race culminated in a Double A victory so David’s outburst went unnoticed by those around him.
His shock, however, delighted his daughter.
“Please, Father,” she said. “Remember to use your inside voice.”
Brania’s words kept repeating in his mind over and over again, like a record player whose needle had gotten caught in a groove. Kill Jean-Paul. Kill Jean-Paul. Kill Jean-Paul. How could she be so cruel to expect me to kill my own son? The answer came to him so quickly and with such brutal honesty that David had to grip his knees to stop his hands from shaking. Because you taught her well.
Indeed he had. Just like he had sacrificed his sister for the good of his people, he now had to sacrifice his son. The end—destruction of The Well, end of water vamps—would surely justify the means. There was only one problem: David couldn’t trust his daughter.
“How do I know you’ll keep your end of the bargain?” David asked her.
“You don’t,” she replied. Hardly the answer he was looking for. “You’ll just have to take my word for it.”
Damn her! There wasn’t any other way! This Imogene girl was linked to Edwige; she was the only one who could lead them to The Well, and she was under Brania’s control. There was a very good chance Brania would double cross him, but it was a chance that he had to take. Unfortunately, if he thought about it much longer, the chance would slip by. “Remember, Edwige feeds tomorrow, so there’s no time to lollygag,” Brania had reminded him. “I’ll call for you at daybreak and expect to see Jean-Paul’s burnt ashes.”
This was treason! Blackmail! So many years David had ignored his son, preferring to dote on his daughter instead, and now that he had reconnected with Jean-Paul he was going to have to sever their ties. How could he possibly kill him? The mere thought of it was unfathomable. No, there was no way he could do that. He could, however, order his execution. Yes, that he could do. That he could do very easily. But first he would have to find an assassin.
After the first set of races was completed there was a break in the competition, and the crowd began milling about the gym. David found the person he was looking for standing alone near the windows.
“Nakano,” David said. “I have an important assignment for you.”
And just like that Nakano’s perfect day came to an end.
chapter 27
Nakano knew something was wrong, David was being way too friendly.
During their entire walk over from St. Sebastian’s to his office, David had talked nonstop, complimenting Nakano on his acrobatic exhibition, admiring how clever he had been to illustrate his incredible skills in public without calling attention to his preternatural abilities, even congratulating him on making the difficult decision to quit the swim team so he could showcase his talents appropriately. “A wise man knows when he is beaten,” David had said. “But it is the courageous man who shakes off defeat to rise to victory.”
No matter what David said, no matter how impressed or interested he might seem in Nakano’s recent achievement, there was no way that he had brought him here to philosophize about his cheerleading debut. This meeting was definitely about something else. But David was taking his sweet time revealing just what that was.
“This was given to me by a geisha I once knew,” David announced, admiring the ornate box that lived on the mantel of the fireplace. “She painted it herself.” He turned it around in his hand, gazing, searching at each side of the small, rectangular object that was decorated with a different scene—a cluster of butterflies, a waterfall, a bevy of cherry blossoms, a stony brook—all snippets of natural beauty, all delicately hand painted. “Each one of these panels reminds me of her,” he continued. “She too was an exquisite creature.” Lifting the lid, which was topped with a vibrant blue and black Wanderer butterfly, its wings opened, but frozen in flight, David took a deep breath. “And loyal.”
And just how is a stupid box loyal? Nakano thought.
David didn’t hear Kano’s question—he was peering underneath the lid, but he answered it anyway.
“She filled this container with her blood as an offering,” David said.
Well, yes, that could be considered an act of loyalty. Or stupidity, depending upon how you looked at it.
“I can still remember how she tasted. I can still smell her scent,” he recalled. “As fragrant and alive as a Japanese garden.”
Returning the piece to its rightful place, David motioned for Nakano to sit in front of the fireplace in one of the two side chairs that were made of distressed brown leather. The fabric was creased and the color faded due to age and frequent use, and as Kano sat he was struck by how the texture reminded him of David’s face. The headmaster’s typically smooth, age-defying complexion looked tired, strained as if tension and stress were lying just on the other side of his flesh. Maybe that’s why he wanted to speak with him, to get something off his chest, ask him to share his burden? Or maybe he just wanted to tell him stories about a former concubine, thinking Nakano would get all nostalgic and want to hear more anecdotes about his home country’s past.
The leather moaned slightly when David gripped the back of the chair opposite Nakano. David looked like he was going to make the same sound. “I hope you will prove yourself to be equally as loyal.”
“Haven’t I already proven my allegiance to you and our race?” Nakano sniped. “There’s no reason for my loyalty to be questioned.”
The time had come, however, for it to be tested.
Finally David relaxed a bit, as if a burden had been lifted, slightly, from his shoulders, and he smiled. “Good,” he said. “Because I want you to kill Jean-Paul Germaine.”
Something must be wrong with his hearing. There was no way Nakano had heard David correctly.
“I’m sorry,” Kano said. “You want me to do what?”
Despite the ache that was growing all throughout David’s body, he made sure his smile didn’t fade, in fact he willed it to grow even wider. “I believe you heard me the first time,” he said. “It was, if I may point out, a very concise and uncomplicated request.”
Uncomplicated?! This had to be some colossal joke. “Why would you want me to kill Jean-Paul?”
Nakano cried in disbelief. “I thought the two of you were really close.”
David’s will collapsed, and his smile faded. “Are you questioning me?”
The words tumbled out of Kano’s mouth before he realized how foolish they were. “Yes, as a matter of fact I am.”
The movement was so reactive, so quick, Nakano didn’t even know he was being pinned against the wall until he tried to touch the floor with his feet. It took him another second to realize that it was extremely difficult to breathe, which only made sense since David was holding him by the throat and squeezing so hard that his knuckles resembled chunks of ivory.
“I am your master!” David seethed, his foul breath stinging Nakano’s eyes, his spit sprinkling onto Nakano’s lips. “How dare you question me!”
Whenever Kano had been manhandled before, and the times had been many, he had always reacted in the same way, he would fight back,
defend himself whether he was infuriated or frightened. This was different. He felt one of David’s hands around his throat, the other pressing down hard onto his forehead. He saw David’s vile, deformed face, and yet he felt nothing; he was numb. “I’m sorry,” he said, the words sounding as if they were spoken by a very intelligent robot.
“Jean-Paul’s death is necessary for our people to reach a higher purpose,” David hissed. But the next words almost made him choke. “He needs to be killed!”
Images of Jean-Paul’s beautiful face bombarded Nakano’s brain. Bathed in moonlight, sheathed in passionate sweat, drenched in blood. No, not that, anything but that. Too many feelings were swarming inside Kano’s mind; he loved Jean-Paul, he hated him, he was angry that their relationship was over, he was disappointed in his actions. He couldn’t think straight, so he decided not to think at all.
“And I want you to do it,” David instructed. “Bring his ashes to me by daybreak.”
The ticking of the grandfather clock filled the room as David waited for a response that wasn’t coming soon enough for his liking. “DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME?!” David was so furious, so disgusted with Nakano, with Brania, with himself, that his cry resembled a madman’s. His fangs were scraping against Nakano’s skin, and all he wanted to do was tear the boy’s flesh to shreds and savor every tender mouthful to satiate the pain that was enveloping him. But he couldn’t, he couldn’t destroy his servant. He needed Nakano to do his bidding.
And so Nakano agreed. “I understand.”
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