“Hawksbry!”
Out of respect, Dr. MacCleery waited for a response, but none came. He knocked on the headmaster’s door once more and called out, “Hawksbry, are you in there?!” How he loathed this room. It always made him feel inferior, like he was waiting to be summoned by some higher authority. Ideal to remind the students who was in charge, but annoying to those who already know their power is limited. What he hated most was the faces of those damn archangels staring down at him, condemning him for being a mere human. As a scientist he didn’t believe in their existence, but still, did they have to look so angry? “Hawksbry, I’m coming in.”
When he entered the room, he didn’t see the headmaster sprawled out on the floor as he had feared nor did he see him sitting quietly at his desk reading as he had hoped. He saw no one. He looked around for signs of an intrusion, but again found nothing. He opened the doors to his private bathroom, his closet, both empty. “Where the hell did you get to this time?” But just as he was about to leave, he saw something that caught his eye. On the otherwise uncluttered desk was a folded piece of paper, propped up and looking like a tent. When Lochlan read the handwritten scrawl, he felt the eyes of the archangels peering at him, reading over his shoulder. He knew the handwriting was Alistair’s, though the words seemed to be written fast and without his usual flair. The message, however, was succinct. Evil walks among the angels. The children must be protected.
What?! MacCleery looked around the room, convinced someone was playing a trick on him. But then he read the note again and then he remembered how Alistair looked the last time he saw him and that he had disappeared for a few days once before, and the doctor quickly became convinced that something was wrong. He had no idea what was going on. He wasn’t sure if he really believed the words on the paper, but he felt certain that Alistair believed them. And when it came to the children, Alistair was rarely wrong.
The doctor was so deep in thought when he walked past the mirror and the haunted faces of the archangels, he didn’t even notice that he stepped in a small pile of ash.
The mahogany box was hardly ever noticed by anyone even though Edwige kept it out in full view, placed on top of a small table carved from the same wood. There was nothing fancy about the box or the table; the lines were smooth and neither was embellished with carving or adornment. They were both simply sturdy and strong. Just like Saxon was.
Edwige opened the box, the smell of the burnt ash now faint like a rarely spoken memory. But even unspoken memories never completely die. “Forgive me, Saxon,” Edwige said. “I faltered. I grew weak and thought I needed the love of another man.” Her eyes filled with tears, but her voice was steady when she vowed, “I will never make that mistake again.”
That was the thought that filled Ciaran’s brain when he entered St. Albert’s. When he entered the lab, he didn’t know what to think.
“Hello, Ciaran,” Brania said. “We’ve been waiting for you.”
Act normal, Ciaran, these people can’t possibly know what’s inside your head. “I thought I’d seen the last of you after the festival,” Ciaran said, placing his books down on the counter. “Didn’t think you’d want to be in my presence again and, you know, risk dropping dead of boredom.”
Brania looked at Nakano and laughed. “Now, if only you could learn to be as witty as our friend here, maybe I wouldn’t have to constantly request that you keep your mouth closed.” Nakano looked like he wanted to respond in a not-so-witty manner, but he did indeed keep his mouth closed. Ciaran accurately assumed he was only doing so for fear of being reprimanded. Something intriguing was going on, he had to admit, but he knew better than to admit it to them, so he continued to set up his lab as if he didn’t have any visitors. “Aren’t you the least bit curious why we’re here?”
Pulling a tray of specimens from out of the freezer underneath the counter, Ciaran answered without looking at either vampire. “No.”
Nakano opened his mouth to speak, unable to remain civil, but Brania dug her nails into his thigh before he could utter a sound. “I understand your apathy,” Brania began. “But I think once you hear our proposal, it will be displaced by great interest.”
“I’m not interested in anything you might have to propose,” Ciaran said firmly.
“Even if the proposal comes from my father?” Brania asked. When she saw Ciaran’s hand hesitate, linger in the air for a split second before placing the glass plate on the microscope, she knew she had succeeded. Ciaran had taken the first step toward entering her lair.
Looking at the sample of blood through the microscope, Ciaran tried but was unable to focus. Her father? This was not what he had expected. He knew it could be a trap, he knew he could be setting himself up for false hope like all the other times, but it could also be the opportunity of a lifetime. “Your father has a proposal for me?”
“One that will change your destiny.” Not wanting to appear too eager or too desperate, Brania started to leave, Nakano close behind her. She only stopped when Ciaran spoke.
“If your father wants to do business, he knows where he can find me.”
When Brania smiled, she tried not to look too victorious. After all, she may have lost a few small battles, but winning the war was all that mattered. “Yes, He does, Ciaran.” She was impressed with how intensely the boy pretended to be working and how he so admirably tried to hide his interest. Luckily, she knew his true desires. “Don’t worry, Ciaran, He’ll be in touch.”
For a long time after Brania and Nakano left, Ciaran didn’t move, he didn’t speak, he hardly breathed. He was thrilled and he was disgusted. He didn’t want to bargain with Them; he didn’t want to work with Brania’s father. But most of all, he didn’t want to be alone.
Feeling Ronan’s arms around him, Michael knew he would never be alone again. They sat, Michael leaning into Ronan, their faces warmed by the first rays of dawn, and listened to the sounds of the earth. The earth that was as immortal as they were. The waves were now rolling onto the shores of Inishtrahull Island, no longer crashing forcefully onto the beach, their vigor replaced with contentment. There was no wind, just a placid breeze that ebbed and flowed with the movement of the tide, bringing with it the smell of salt and a gesture of peace.
Michael smiled when he heard the meadowlark’s song; the soothing notes sounded like an old friend as they wafted over him. It was the same song he followed from Weeping Water, from his other life that brought him here where he was born to be. Into the arms and the heart of Ronan.
And Ronan’s heart was never so full. He looked at Michael and was overcome with joy. He really will be forever beautiful and forever mine. Softly, they kissed, parting only when the first lazy drops of rain fell from the sky. Ronan smiled as Michael bent his head back, allowing the rain to anoint his face. “Should we find shelter?” he whispered.
“No,” Michael replied in a strong, confident voice as he pulled Ronan’s arms tighter around him. “This is the most natural feeling in the world.”
Dear Reader,
Now that you’ve read Unnatural and have gotten to know Michael, Ronan, Brania, and the rest of the students at Archangel Academy, I thought I’d share with you some of the exciting stuff that’s set to come as their journey continues in Unwelcome, the next book in the series.
Change is in the air this semester at Double A. Just because Michael is now a vampire doesn’t mean his world is suddenly perfect—far from it. He may have gone through a physical transformation, but emotionally he still has a lot going on—starting with his relationship with Ronan. He’s never been someone’s boyfriend before and suddenly he finds himself connected to Ronan in a way he never imagined. It doesn’t matter that he loves Ronan more than he ever thought possible—a relationship needs more than love to survive. He also has to deal with the lingering feelings of his mother’s death, plus his father, who’s distant and not what you could call accepting of the fact that his son is gay. Just wait until Michael finds out his father’s not only a vampire bu
t one of Brania’s creations!
As Michael struggles to come to terms with the young man he is becoming—physically, emotionally, and sexually—Ronan struggles to let go of the demons of his past. This is not his first relationship, but he’s desperate for it to last an eternity. His fear that it will end like all the others causes him to make questionable decisions and could endanger his destiny. He also decides to follow some of Edwige’s advice, and you just know that isn’t a smart thing to do.
There are lots of other new relationships too. Phaedra and Fritz are growing closer, but will they ever be close enough for Phaedra to confess that she isn’t even human? And Ciaran, tired of being lonely and an outsider, makes a bold choice—to join forces with Brania by doing some scientific experiments on the water vamps for none other than her father. It’s a choice that will have deadly consequences.
Meanwhile, two new characters arrive on the hallowed grounds of Archangel Academy, creating even more mystery. Ronan’s younger sister, Saoirse, comes to Eden harboring a secret that only a handful of people know about and one that has made her a legend among water vamps. And then there’s the new headmaster, the enigmatic David Zachary, who has come to the school to lead the students into a new era. But as you know, nothing at this school is what it seems.
All the action and all the stories culminate and explode at the end of the school year at The Carnival for the Black Sun. It’s David’s brainchild to celebrate a solar eclipse when the sun disappears and for a few moments the world is without any light.
Will Michael and Ronan overcome one obstacle after another to remain forever beautiful and forever together? Will Ciaran side with the enemy? Who will cause more pain—Brania or Edwige? And will an evil plot be thwarted or will Archangel Academy be plunged into a new era of darkness? You’ll just have to read Unwelcome to find out.
Thanks for reading—and enjoy!
Michael Griffo
one drop
two drops
three drops
four
water is mixed
with blood once more.
shadows and light
on a crimson stain
will the sun prevail?
or will darkness reign?
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Unnatural aa-1 Page 36