Unafraid

by Michael Griffo

  “Should I interpret your tardiness to mean you were not successful, Father?”

  No one heard Brania’s silent query, but everyone saw the sneer form on David’s face. His daughter wasn’t even in the room, yet she was still controlling the situation. Speaking for the group, Oliver asked, “Is something wrong, Headmaster?”

  Flustered by so many questions, David barked, “I have another matter to attend to!” But just as he reached the door, he realized he had been too hasty in his exit, and Jean-Paul was not exactly where he needed him to be. Walking back to his desk, he grabbed Jean-Paul’s final resting place and, ignoring the puzzled looks of everyone in the room, he left.

  Cradling the urn in his arms like an infant, David walked from his office and through The Forest, into areas he had never ventured into before as he followed Brania’s voice. Now that she had decided to reconnect, the barriers were broken, and David was being given access to her secret lair. It enraged David that he had become a plaything to his daughter’s whims. He should know where all of his subjects resided. No one should keep secrets from him. But he kept reminding himself that even kings had to suffer hardships to solidify their power. Entering the cave, he took in the prehistoric dwelling, the child sitting in the coffin as if it were a rowboat, and thought that if he had to stay here for more than a few minutes it might prove to be one hardship that even a compromised king like himself would be unable to bear. “I hope utilities are included, my dear,” David quipped. “There seems to be quite a draft in here.”

  Brania gnashed the loose gravel with her heel as she fought the urge to walk toward her father. She might have allowed him entry to her home, but he was not a guest who needed to be greeted formally. He was a courier. “While your sophomoric observation is amusing,” she said, “I’d much prefer my gift.”

  Reluctantly, David presented the box to her. His hands shook as he realized he was offering one of his children to the other, and he felt his anger build. He prayed that she would come forward and take her prize before he lost control of his fury and smashed it on the ground at her feet. You wanted your brother’s ashes, well here they are! No! No, he couldn’t do that to Jean-Paul. He had already taken his son’s life; he couldn’t take his dignity as well. David raised the urn even higher. “Your brother’s remains,” he said solemnly. “Per your request.”

  As expected Nakano proved to have more guts than her father. So much was going through Brania’s head when she walked toward David, she was surprised she didn’t topple over. She was livid and wanted to call David out for his cowardice, for once again making a child do the work of a parent; she was remorseful and wanted to tell Nakano she was sorry for convincing him to do her father’s dirty work; there was even a part of her that was ashamed that she had allowed her jealousy of Jean-Paul to lead her to orchestrate his death. But when she took the lid off of the box and the intoxicating odor of death enveloped her, she was proud. She had gotten what she deserved: she was an only child once more. “Bravo, Daddy,” Brania cooed. “All is right with the world.”

  “Not quite,” David snapped. “Not until you take me to The Well as you promised.”

  “Well, you see, that’s really not up to me,” Brania replied, placing the urn on a small flattened rock that jutted out from the wall. “It’s up to Imogene.”

  “Who!?”

  “She’s talking about me.”

  Turning to face Imogene, who was lounging in the coffin, David could no longer conceal his fury. “I’m through playing games with you, Brania!” David spat, his fists clenched and shaking violently. “I held up my end of our bargain. It’s time that you held up yours!!”

  “You outsourced your chore!” Brania cried. “Proving once again that you are incapable of ruling our race!” Reveling in her father’s flummoxed look, Brania slowly walked toward him again. This time her mind wasn’t jumbled. Only one thought permeated her brain: how wonderful it was going to be to strip her father of every ounce of his power. “When our people realize you have failed yet again to destroy The Well and that this insane quest of yours for total supremacy is archaic and untenable, they will look for a new leader! They will look to me! They will expect and beg your only heir to take over and wear the crown that no longer fits your head!!”

  It was an articulate speech and a persuasive argument, but Imogene wasn’t listening. “Noooo!!!!”

  Whipping around, Brania cried, “Not now!”

  “It’s Edwige,” Imogene gasped. “She’s feeding!”

  Rushing to Imogene’s side, David growled, “If you treasure your pitiful life, you’ll take me to her now!”

  On Imogene’s other side, Brania seethed. “No, Imogene! Our plans have changed!”

  Defiantly, Imogene grabbed them both, and then together, they all disappeared.

  One by one the kids started to appear, forming clusters all around campus. Some were still chattering on about yesterday’s major swim team win, which happened even though Alexei never showed up for the final relay, while others were excited about the Tri-Centennial Celebration and were bowled over when they realized Double A had been in existence for three centuries. Michael and Ronan met up with Ciaran and Saoirse outside St. Martha’s and were hoping to enjoy themselves, but experience had taught them that if David organized an event, fun would not be on the schedule. But it was clear that Rhoswen’s arrival had unnerved David. Maybe it had distracted him enough to just let the event unfold properly, as the drama-free festivity it was supposed to be.

  Taking one long sip of her iced mocha, Saoirse did a pirouette and scoured the grounds. “Has anyone seen Kanosan?”

  “Is he your new GBFF?” Ciaran replied.

  Stopping abruptly and immediately bending into second position, clearly in the throes of a caffeine rush, Saoirse said, “Spell it out, Ciaran my boyo.”

  “Gay best friend forever,” he explained.

  Jumping up and down in a way that would shame even a beginner ballerina, Saoirse cried, “That’s brill! Somebody write that down and mail it to the people who make up new words. No, no, no! E-mail it, ’cause e-mail’s faster.”

  Ronan silenced his sister by grabbing her drink out of her hands. “Looks like someone needs to switch to decaf.”

  “Give it back, Roney!” she yelled. “The barista forgot to add a shot of blood, so you’re not going to like it.”

  Shaking his head, Ronan handed Saoirse back her coffee. Maybe the day was just going to be filled with laughs and nonsense. The way Michael looked, it was clear he didn’t share his boyfriend’s opinion. “Try not to worry, love,” Ronan said, rubbing the warm center of Michael’s neck. “Until, you know, there’s something to worry about.” On cue, Vaughan emerged from behind the building. “Which,” Ronan finished, “would be right about now.”

  “Dad!” Michael shouted. “What are you doing here?” Looking over his shoulder, Vaughan realized it wouldn’t be wise to carry on a conversation with his son and his son’s friends out in the open. “Come with me,” he said, leading the group to the Dumpsters behind St. Martha’s.

  “The smell is goppin’!” Saoirse said, getting a whiff of the odor of rotting food wafting from inside the metal containers. “All those in favor of reconvening elsewhere, raise your hand.”

  Before she could raise her arm, Ronan grabbed it. “Cut it out, Seersh,” he ordered. “What’s going on, Mr. Howard?”

  “David is planning to destroy The Well,” Vaughn said. “You have to get there to stop him.”

  “Oh, come on,” Ronan scoffed. “He’s tried it before and failed.”

  “That was my first thought too, but this time he’s using one of your own,” Vaughan replied, his heart starting to race a bit faster. “He’s using Edwige.”

  Ronan didn’t have to speak; Michael understood. Despite the fact that he was estranged from his mother, she was still his mother, and if David was using her to get to The Well, then she was in danger. They had no choice but to try and protect her. The only doubt Michael
had was what role Vaughan was playing. “Why are you helping us?” he asked.

  “Because I’m your father.” Vaughan’s declaration surprised everyone, including Grace, who was never far from her son. His words, however, filled her with relief. Her ex-husband might be sinful and at best a complete jerk, but he still loved their son, and for that she was grateful. So grateful that she allowed Vaughan to see her smiling at him for a split second, just enough time so he knew she was watching him, time enough to make sure he kept his word. He understood.

  “Hurry!” Vaughan ordered.

  Michael didn’t move. He remembered Phaedra’s warning that wherever Rhoswen went, death would follow. He had no idea where Rhoswen was, but he could smell death as clearly as if its scent was floating on the wind. “You’ll protect Ciaran and Saoirse,” he said. “In case anything goes wrong.”

  Vaughan’s renewed commitment to his son didn’t waiver. “I promise.”

  The second after Michael and Ronan ran off to The Well, Saoirse informed Vaughan that she didn’t need his help. “If things get all shambolic again, take care of Ciaran,” she instructed. “I’ve got this Atlantium gene running through my veins that makes me sort of indestructible.”

  “Care to put that theory to the test?” Morgandy asked.

  “Blimey!” Saoirse shouted. “Were you hiding in the bushes?”

  “On the other side of the Dumpsters,” he replied.

  “Of course,” Ciaran said. “With the rest of the rubbish.”

  Not used to bickering teenagers, Vaughan immediately regretted his promise, but true to his word, he positioned himself in front of Ciaran and Saoirse, making them back up against the metal bins. “What’s going on?” he asked. “David hasn’t called us to action.”

  Morgandy inched closer to Vaughan and his charges. “I’m tired of waiting!” he barked, his face beginning to transform. “So I’m taking matters into my own hands.”

  This was never supposed to be like this! Years ago when he had crossed over and become a vampire, Vaughan had thought it would bring him an eternity of luxury, wealth, untold adventure. He had never thought he’d have to be a bodyguard. “But that’s against David’s orders,” Vaughan cried, his voice desperate.

  Standing directly in front of Vaughan, Morgandy’s face and body were no longer human. “He isn’t capable of giving orders any longer,” Morgandy seethed. “So I’m making up my own.”

  Taking a step back so his body was now flat against Ciaran and Saoirse, Vaughan reluctantly allowed his own form to change. He didn’t want it to appear as if he was agreeing to do battle, but he had to be prepared; the two lives behind him were counting on it. “I ... I hear there’s a water vamp settlement in Cyprus!” he said, trying to reason with Morgandy. “Let’s leave at sunset. They’ll never suspect an attack!” But the boy was beyond reasoning.

  “No,” Morgandy said flatly. “I want to kill these two.”

  “But ... but they’re not even water vamps!” Vaughan cried.

  Revolted, Morgandy had had enough of Vaughan’s resistance. “You’re a bigger faggot than your kid!”

  Morgandy hit the ground before Vaughan even realized he had punched him. He hit the ground so hard that he didn’t get back up for quite a while. If Grace had still been present, she would’ve applauded Vaughan for defending Michael’s character. She wasn’t, so Saoirse clapped instead. “That was brilliant, Mr. Howard!”

  Brilliant, but not a permanent solution. Jumping to his feet, Morgandy was prepared to attack Vaughan for striking him. He wasn’t prepared for Saoirse to attack first. Michael was her friend, she loved him like a brother, and no one was going to get away with talking about him like that. Grabbing the back of Morgandy’s skull, Saoirse didn’t even notice how soft his curls felt. She just hurled his body through the air with more power than she knew she possessed. Twenty seconds later they heard the shattering of glass and knew his body had finally landed. Dumbfounded, Vaughan turned to the girl. “What in bloody hell are you?!”

  “Honestly,” she replied, “I’ve given up trying to figure it out.”

  “Just be thankful she’s on your side,” Ciaran said, unable to conceal a smile.

  So now Vaughan was on the side of his longtime enemy. Yes, it would seem that way. Well, if he wanted to keep peace, he couldn’t just stand there. Peering into the distance he could see Morgandy almost a mile away, not moving, but chances were he wouldn’t stay like that for long. Looking toward the left, he could see a group of kids filing into the gym. “Go to St. Sebastian’s,” he ordered. “I need to make sure Morgandy doesn’t get himself into any more trouble.”

  David found his second journey of the day to be much more rewarding. “I’ve done it, Zachariel!” he exclaimed, his voice bellowing throughout the underground cave, startling Edwige, who had just finished her monthly offering of blood. Speechless, she ran to the other side of The Well to conceal her naked body. “Hello, Edwige,” David said. “I hope you don’t mind company.”

  “As long as the feeling’s mutual, David,” Michael added as he and Ronan entered the cave.

  It was a historic moment. Never before had there been so many people gathered in front of The Well at one time.

  Unfortunately, it was not a moment that made The Well happy.

  chapter 29

  The vibrations started slowly. The movement of the ground was almost imperceptible. In fact, David didn’t even notice anything was happening. How could he when he was so elated that he was finally here? Finally standing in the presence of the godforsaken Well, the legendary being that had eluded him for so long. And look at it! It was nothing more than stone. It looked like something you’d find in a country field, used by an illiterate laborer to fetch water. This was their deity?! Watching Edwige cower and hide her hideous flesh from the others, David thought it was a fitting god.

  “I must say how appropriate this foul-smelling place is,” David remarked. “For such primitive, naked beasts, of course.”

  Ronan handed his mother a wet clump of yellow and black material. She let the fabric fall to the floor and stepped into it; it was the long dress that she had left on the shore of Inishtrahull Island before making her way to The Well. “Thank you,” she said.

  “Oh no, thanks be to Zachariel,” David corrected. “It’s because of his guidance that I’ve accomplished what you never thought I could.” Spreading his arms out wide in front of him, David shouted, “I have found The Well’s elusive hiding place!”

  This time when the ground shook, David felt it. He even teetered off balance a bit. The sensation didn’t invoke fear, but rather joy. “You should be afraid!” he cried. “The day has come for your pitiful race to end!”

  Even though David was addressing his tirade to The Well, Michael felt that every word was meant for him, and he felt his stomach fill with anger. He was the only one who was an outsider; he was the only who had been brought here, summoned to this part of the world. And he was the only one whose destiny was to be The Well’s next guardian. “You’ll never succeed!” he roared. “NEVER!”

  Flying through the air and transforming at the same time, Michael didn’t notice David had reacted even more quickly and had moved to the side until there was nothing before him but empty air. He dove onto the ground, and by the time he stood up and turned around, David was holding Ronan by the throat. A small piece of Michael’s heart died as he watched Ronan’s body flail and convulse uncontrollably a few feet from the ground and his hands clutch at David’s fingers that were squeezing tighter and tighter around his neck. His boyfriend was being assaulted, and Michael was just staring at him. What the hell was wrong with this picture?

  Once again David proved that his reflexes were just a bit more honed. Age and experience did sometimes triumph over youth and bravado. Just as Michael soared forward, David flicked his wrist and sent Ronan flying into The Well. He struck the wall so hard two stones were dislodged and fell off, one of them hitting Ronan on the side of his head, slicing off
a bit of flesh before crashing onto the ground.

  By the time Edwige and Michael ran toward Ronan, flanking him on either side, two new stones had grown in the empty space. The Well was rejuvenating itself. “You see!” Michael cried. “You can’t destroy The Well, and you can’t kill us!”

  “Just like I could never find my way here?!” David replied. “Don’t you remember, you stupid, little boy, that rules are made to be broken?”

  “Just like truces?” Edwige asked. She was kneeling beside Ronan, holding him in her arms, but she was looking directly into David’s eyes. “You swore before your goddamned Zachariel that you would uphold peace between our two races!”

  “I lied,” he said simply.

  Edwige wanted to strike David herself for going back on his word, for wreaking havoc and endangering the lives of so many innocent people, but just then Ronan stirred in her arms and she forgot about global salvation and focused entirely on her son. “Ronan,” she whispered. “Can you hear me?”

  “Yes,” he replied softly. After Michael helped him stand, Ronan whispered, “Thank you, love.”

  Enough sentiment! It was time for the animal to be released from its cage. After ripping off his shirt, David tossed it to the ground, and his massive chest began to heave. He felt his shoulder blades splitting apart, and even though the pain was less excruciating than it had been the first time the metamorphosis had taken place, the feeling was still bone-chilling. Clenching his fists, David raised his arms, his biceps bulging, his neck resembling the trunk of a tree, and he howled. “Ahhhhhhh!!!!!”

  No one knew what to make of the scene. They were horrified and transfixed, and it looked as if David was going to explode. They never imagined he was going to sprout wings.