Unwelcome (36 page)

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Authors: Michael Griffo

BOOK: Unwelcome
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Scouring the gym for an inhuman face, Ciaran found none. He ran up to the windows and peered outside. The looming shadows from the half-covered sun made it difficult to see, yet he only saw mortals.
I'm sure there are a lot more that I don't know about, there's got to be.
Even though that was true, it didn't make Ciaran feel any better. He had been duped into believing the carnival was nothing more than a school function when clearly it was another one of David's tactics. Ciaran had the distinct impression that he had fallen right into his trap, and Michael had no idea that he was headed in the same direction.
 
Just as he was about to enter The Forest so he could sprint unseen to the other side of campus before heading to Inishtrahull Island, Michael saw Phaedra enter the maze. A second later he was standing by her side. “I need you.”
Startled, Phaedra jumped. “What do you mean?”
Talking quickly, Michael tried to explain the situation as succinctly as possible. “Everything I said the other night about not needing you—erase it, delete it, I need your help.”
Phaedra was silent. She knew this would happen, she knew the moment she admitted to herself what she truly wanted, how she honestly wanted to spend the rest of her future, no matter if she had a day left or an eternity, something would happen to force her to change her plans. Something like this. “I thought you said Ronan had your back?”
“I can't find him,” Michael explained. “I have to save Saoirse. It could be dangerous and I need your protection!”
It should all be so simple and yet Phaedra couldn't decide. Somewhere close by was Fritz and he was the one she wanted to be with. She didn't want to transform into fog, she didn't want to let go of the lovely feelings that were becoming so strong, so much a part of who she was, she didn't want to . . . she could hardly say the words to herself: She didn't want to be an efemera any longer. She wanted to be human. “I . . . I don't know if I can.”
Michael was stunned. He shouldn't have been, but he was. After all, he was the one who had told Phaedra to embrace her mortality as he embraced eternal life, but things had changed. He wasn't sure if he had the strength to save Saoirse by himself, he didn't know if he would just find Amir on the beach or if there would be a pack of vampires waiting for him. He was trying to be practical, realistic, but he needed Phaedra to do the same. “One last time, Phaedra,” Michael begged. “Please!”
You've become a dear friend to me, Michael, probably the best friend I've ever had, but right now I hate you.
“One last time.”
Michael felt Phaedra stiffen when he hugged her, but he figured she was just ticked off at him for making her choose to do something that in her heart she didn't want to do. He had no idea that she was reacting to his reflection. The image she saw in the mirror was alarming. It wasn't the result of a fun-house trick, it was Michael's true spirit and it was grotesque.
“Meet me at the island,” Michael shouted as he ran out of the maze.
Following him, Phaedra made it as far as the edge of The Forest before stopping. She knew she had to keep her promise, but she was conflicted. What was happening to Michael; why did he look so different? She knew he was a vampire and no matter how good or gentle he might be, he was still part of a dangerous species. Oh, none of that mattered! Her purpose in life was to protect him regardless of whether he was a vampire, immortal, a creature who preyed on the living. It was that simple. When she saw Fritz staring at her from inside the gym, things once again got complicated.
All the sweet possibilities, all the magic she had hoped to share with him, this rough-edged but tenderhearted boy, all of that would never be. She would never know what it means to be completely human and completely in love.
She lifted her hand to Fritz, a quiet gesture. She wanted to say so much to him, touch him, kiss him, feel his hands embrace her, but no, that was meant for teenage girls, and no matter how much she looked the part, no matter how much she convinced herself that that's what she was, that she was human, she wasn't. And she feared she never would be.
 
What the bloomin' hell was that? Where'd Phaedra go? Fritz pressed his nose closer to the window. He knew he saw Phaedra, she was right there at the entrance to the maze; she waved to him. But when he looked closer, all he could see was a puff of smoke, like she actually disappeared into thin air. Fritz swatted his forehead with his rolled-up comic book.
It's the mist rolling in, you stupid prat; nature's all wonky from the eclipse. Nobody disappears just like that. But wait a second, maybe that's just what she did, maybe instead of waving hello, she was waving good-bye.
No! Don't make it over before it even gets started, before we even get to all the good stuff!
Despite his protests and his hopes, Fritz had a bad feeling that the latest issue of
Tales of The Double A—The Day Darkness Took Over
was starting to come true.
 
“It's starting, my son, the darkness has returned.” With Jean-Paul by his side, David was peering into the mirror watching Amir race through the shadows, Saoirse clutched in his arms. “It's the dawn of a new age,” David whispered, “when darkness can roam freely in the sun.”
Jean-Paul smiled at his father. He made sure David could see that his eyes were filled with admiration, but he worked hard to conceal his thoughts. He didn't want him to pick up on the doubts circulating within his mind. The strategy was sound, but his father was also zealous and often underestimated his opponents. Jean-Paul had been observing water vamps for years and he knew they were a formidable lot. As he had gotten to know Michael better, he discovered his theories were astute. “How marvelous to be a part of it, Father,” Jean-Paul said. “But I think I can be of greater assistance.”
Jean-Paul explained that even the most loyal and ambitious of his flock needed help, so he volunteered to assist Amir. “He's getting preoccupied with zee girl,” Jean-Paul explained. “When all he needs to do ees get Ronan to follow him into zee ocean so he can find zee Well.”
David was reluctant to let his son leave his side, but quickly saw the sense of his suggestion. “All right, go,” David allowed. “But remember, if you must choose between saving yourself and saving that boy, know that I will not honor your death.”
I have no intention of dying for such a foolish child.
“I understand your ways, Father,” Jean-Paul replied. “Remember I am not like my sister.”
In the open air, Jean-Paul heard a noise and stopped. He instinctively thought he was being watched and narrowed his eyes to cut through the shadowlight. Nothing. Racing north toward the island, he didn't look back. If he had, he would have seen Nakano following him. But the chase was witnessed by David. “Oh, Zachariel, how heartening to see all my servants working together.”
 
On the shores of Inishtrahull Island, however, one of David's servants was still on his own. Saoirse wisely stopped trying to break free from Amir's hold. She wasn't strong enough and it merely wasted her energy, she had a feeling she was going to need to conserve her resources. She also knew that she needed her brother, the first thing she asked Michael when he showed up was why Ronan wasn't with him.
“He's right behind me,” Michael lied.
“Well, he better hurry up,” Amir ordered. “Because I'm losing my patience.”
In the unnatural darkness, it was difficult to see. Michael figured it had more to do with his fear than his vision. He had to concentrate, he had to focus on keeping Saoirse safe until Ronan and Phaedra showed up. If it was just him and Amir, he would strike first and think later, but his fangs were too close to Saoirse's neck, there was no way Michael could reach Amir in time before he plunged them into her flesh. He had to be cunning.
“I'll make you a trade, Amir,” Michael suggested. “Me for Saoirse.”
“I don't want you!” Amir spat.
Michael inched forward, hoping his movement would be concealed in the growing blackness. “C'mon, David's much more interested in water vamps than he is in humans.”
 
Watching the scene with growing interest, David nodded his head. He tried to reach out to Amir telepathically, tell him to release the girl and find The Well, but the distance and the boy's own ego were getting in the way. Amir was not only loyal, he was also ambitious.
“The only trade I'll make is if you show me The Well,” Amir declared.
Impressive, David thought, the boy might be too anxious for prestige, but he was shrewd.
Ronan was right all along. They are up to something; they want to locate The Well.
“That's impossible,” Michael said. “You can't get near it, you can't see it, you're not a water vamp.”
“And I thank Zachariel every day for that!” Amir screamed. “Show me The Well or I'm killing your boyfriend's sister!”
Dammit, where was Ronan?! Where was Phaedra?
This guy isn't just a vampire, he's insane. He thinks he can defy nature and find out where The Well is without having his soul be connected to it.
There was no way that was going to happen and there was no way Michael was going to be able to save Saoirse.
No, no, don't think that way, think of everything you've accomplished. Yeah, right, and think of everything that's been taken away from you—your mother, your grandmother, your entire family, your mortality!
“What's it gonna be, Michael?!”
“Shut up!”
Concentrate, Michael, try! You're not that weak little boy any longer. You're a water vamp!
The first thing Michael felt was the webbing grow between his fingers, then his toes. His face elongated, his eyes narrowed, and when his fangs grew past his lips, they felt sharper than ever. Even though he transformed, even though he was equipped with his preternatural armor, he wasn't fast enough. Amir wasn't here to play fair.
When the fangs sunk into her flesh, Saoirse howled. Michael watched in horror as Amir took his hands off her and was only holding on to her by his teeth, digging in deeper, shaking her violently. Michael lunged forward, wrapping his arms around Amir's waist and tackling him to the ground. He saw Saoirse fall to the side—at least she was free. When he turned back to face Amir, he saw him already up and running toward her. Springing forward, Michael slashed his hand through the air blindly. He felt his nails dig into Amir's face, ripping away pieces of skin to expose the muscle and bone underneath. His cries of agony were cut short, however, when Saoirse started to glow.
Shrouded in the darkness of the near-eclipse, Michael and Amir watched, fascinated, as Saoirse's body emitted a bright light, a strong white glow like the one Michael had seen once before in The Well. It radiated her body and lifted her off the beach as if to separate her from the world around her. She was part of the earth, yet detached from it at the same time.
The light was so strong, it hurt his eyes and he had to raise his arm to shield them, but even with compromised vision, he and Amir both were able to see her body levitate. As Saoirse floated in the air, the light that emanated from her body rose above her until it was nothing more than a speck of white amid the darkness. When it had almost fully disappeared, it collapsed onto Saoirse's neck, at the site of her ripped flesh, burrowed back within her body, and as it did, the wounds healed themselves, the ripped, torn flesh, the blood, all gone. Her skin was as clear and smooth as before.
When Saoirse's eyes opened, they were her own. When she spoke, the voice was not. “She is not what you think she is.”
chapter 22
“It's a girl!”
When Edwige heard Saxon speak those words, she was thrilled. After having two boys, she desperately wanted a girl. She wanted a daughter whom she could dress in frilly clothes, play house with, who would cherish her own treasured collection of dolls and stuffed animals. She simply wanted to enjoy an eternity of mother-daughter experiences. The moment Saoirse let out her first cry while being held in her father's arms on the same sacred ground that housed The Well, Edwige knew her child was a blessing. The moment The Well spoke to her, she knew her child was, in fact, a curse.
“Because you broke your bond of love with your soul mate, because you have defiled the sanctity of The Well and of all the descendants of Atlantis,” the deep, richly textured voice began, “this child is your punishment.”
There were only two points of light in the cave, one rising from the mouth of The Well, the other shrouding Edwige's face, which was wet with salt water and sweat. The rest of the space was draped in darkness, so Edwige knew Saxon and her daughter were spared the admonition. It was meant only for her to hear. “Your daughter will never belong to you in the purest sense. She will never become a water vampire like her parents,” the voice instructed, “until you atone for your sin.”
Edwige knew exactly what her sin was, but instinct, panic, made her proclaim her innocence. “No! I've done nothing wrong!”
The only response was a rippling sound, as if the water within the stone encasement sighed, heaved, causing a small wave to rise and fall against the curved walls. Leaning on her elbows, her legs still bent in the same position as when Saoirse was born, Edwige's eyes narrowed and emitted a preternatural light that she hoped would break through the darkness and connect directly with her life force. “She is my daughter, created for you, created out of love!”
The ground underneath Edwige shook and she fell backward, clawing her webbed hands into the dirt for support. A wave crashed loudly against the inside of The Well, and the light that shone from it flickered. Edwige tried to find Saxon and their child within the blackness, amid the rumbling, but she couldn't. She was alone. “I didn't sin!” she cried out. “I was raped!”
“LIAR!!”
Violently, the earth rumbled and Edwige felt its angry vibrations assault her weary body. The light from The Well intensified, became dazzlingly bright, and grew until it grabbed hold of the light that illuminated her face. Edwige was never closer to The Well and she never wanted to be farther away. “This rape never took place,” the voice bellowed, each word carrying with it wrath and wind. “How dare you claim such a travesty occurred? How dare you compound your sin?”
Blinded by the light, frightened by the severity and the truth of the words, Edwige was frozen, unable to move. She could only repeat the lies she had uttered so many times before, the lies she convinced Saxon and all those who loved her were the truth. “Ciaran's father raped me,” she declared, her whisper trembling. “He . . . he took me against my will.” Edwige waited for a response, she waited for The Well to reply, to forgive, condemn, anything. But there was only silence. Like a cornered animal staring into the expressionless face of its hunter, Edwige did the only thing she could, she fought back. “I did not break our covenant!!”
It was a wasted attempt. Once again the stream of light uniting Edwige to The Well was broken, the ground stopped shaking, the wind calmed. As the light from The Well receded, the voice was no longer enraged, but quiet, indifferent. “Edwige Glynn-Rowley, you are not what you think you are.” When the cave resumed its normal appearance and the natural light returned, Edwige could see Saxon holding Saoirse, her dimpled legs wiggling in her father's arms, her blond curls like a flaxen crown, and she was relieved they had safely returned to her side. She was even more relieved that she was still the only one who could hear The Well's voice when it spoke one final time. “And this child is not what you think she is.”
 
“Then what the bloody hell are you?!” Amir insisted.
Saoirse was no longer floating. The spell that enabled her to hover in midair had broken and she was standing on the beach, acting as if nothing remarkable had happened, as if she hadn't just been possessed by a powerful, supernatural force. She acted as if her memory was concealed by the same shadow from the half-dark sun that cloaked her body. Brushing off sand from the back of her jeans, she replied matter-of-factly, “A human born of two vampires.”
A what?! Michael digested this information, this incredible news. He didn't understand Ronan's family history completely, and he acknowledged it was complicated, but he didn't realize Saoirse's parents were both vampires when she was born. If that was true, how could she be human? He had never heard of such a thing, never imagined such a thing could be true. It just didn't make sense. If Saoirse's parents were vampires, shouldn't she be some sort of a vampire too? “Does Ronan know about this?” Michael asked.
What a stupid question,
Saoirse thought. “Of course he does.” Then she realized how stupid her answer was. Obviously Ronan didn't fill Michael in on why she was considered to be the special member of not just their family, but of their entire race. “But you know, it's really not a big deal,” Saoirse lied, trying to backtrack from her initial snide comment.
“Sounds like a pretty big deal to me,” Michael replied, feeling even dumber than before.
Sometimes she wanted to strangle Ronan. He could be an absolute twit when he wanted to be. Couldn't he see how perfect Michael was? Gorgeous and funny and loyal and exactly the type of boyfriend she hoped she'd find for herself one day, without, you know, being gay, of course. If Michael were her boyfriend, she'd treat him right. She wouldn't keep any secrets from him, she wouldn't turn their entire relationship into something shambolic! “I guess it all depends how you look at it,” Saoirse said, shrugging her shoulders. “But I am certain of one thing, I owe you a big fat thank-you.”
“What do you have to thank me for?” Michael asked.
“Not you, silly. Amir.”
Saoirse was so wrapped up in her own daydreams, her own concerns, she didn't notice the glare that accompanied Amir's response. “Me?”
“Yes, you,” Saoirse confirmed. “You helped me find out something I never knew about myself.”
His sneer made the shadowlight appear darker. “What would that be?”
“Well, I always knew a water vamp couldn't transform me,” she explained, fixing the barrette that had come loose in her hair. “Now we all know I'm impervious to the bites of regular vampires as well.” Watching Michael and Amir stare at her as if she were a three-headed alien, Saoirse thought she may have screwed up her vocabulary words. “Impervious does mean resistant, right? Can't hurt me, can't make me one of you.”
The questions grew inside Michael's brain like building blocks, first one, then another.
Why didn't Ronan tell me this? Didn't he trust me enough? Didn't he think I should know something so important?
It was difficult to think, difficult to stop the confusion, the anger, from distorting his face, difficult to not want to leave Saoirse here on the island by herself and find Ronan to confront him. But he couldn't do that, not while Amir was still here looking like that, his fangs cutting into his flesh.
Amir had had enough. He couldn't stand listening to this girl tell him he couldn't do something, he couldn't stand seeing her look so nonchalant, as if she weren't in the presence of a member of a superior race. He knew he had more important things to do, but there was always time to teach a freak a lesson. “If I can't turn you into a vampire,” Amir fumed, “maybe I can kill you.”
Instinctively, Michael stepped in front of Saoirse. He reached back and felt her hands latch on to his shoulder and arm, she might always try to appear unfazed by danger, blasé, but he knew Amir's threats, his unpredictable nature, made her afraid. Unfortunately, it didn't make her quiet. “Kill me?” she cried. “You can't even clean up your own beastly face!”
Amir felt the warmth spread up from his neck to his forehead.
Just who the hell does this arsehole think she's talking to like that?
A breeze erupted around him and he felt the wind sweep by his torn cheek, the one Michael had slashed open, and realized that was what she was talking about.
Fine, you want to see me clean up? Watch this.
Extending his tongue, he flicked it to the side and lapped up the gash on his face, delighted to discover that his blood tasted even sweeter than the doctor's. A few more licks and he felt the wound bubble, felt a tickling where the skin was being reborn. Less than a minute later, his cheek was fully repaired, as bronze-colored and smooth as before Michael attacked him. If the transformation hadn't been so disgusting, Saoirse would've been impressed.
“That is goppin' foul, Amir!”
His fangs may have been fully extended, but they didn't prevent Amir from laughing hysterically. “When I'm done with you, I'll show you what foul really looks like!”
“I seriously doubt that's something you can do on your own,” Michael declared.
A freak and a fool.
Amir smirked. “What if I have backup?”
Whipping around, his arm still protecting Saoirse, Michael was stunned to see Jean-Paul staring at them, his fangs as long and straight as the hair that fell in front of his jet-black eyes. He looked different, he looked menacing, wicked, like Amir. How in the world did Michael ever think he looked sexy?
Gripping Michael's arm tighter, Saoirse whispered, “Where's Ronan?”
“I don't think he's coming,” Michael whispered in response, praying that no one else could hear him. They couldn't. They were too busy listening to David.
“Be careful, my son,” David warned. “You only need to lure the child and the water vamp away from the ocean.” Jean-Paul didn't respond but followed his father's orders, walking in a circle, clockwise, until he was in front of Amir, at which point he started walking toward Michael, making him and Saoirse react by inching backward and away from him.
Staring into Jean-Paul's eyes, Michael tried to keep his face a blank mask. He was trying to determine, without giving away his growing sense of apprehension, if he would attack. He had been so nice, no, he had been more than nice. He had acted as if he wanted to be much more than Michael's friend. Why was he coming at them like this, looking hostile, menacing, like he wanted to harm them, like he wanted to help Amir find out if he could kill Saoirse?
Because he is one of Them, you idiot! It's like Ronan always said, their kind cannot be trusted, no matter how goodlooking, no matter how friendly and understanding they might be.
Michael didn't have time to berate himself. He had to be prepared, be ready for anything. Dammit, where was Ronan?! It would be so much easier if he was by his side where he was supposed to be. And Phaedra, where was she? She had promised to follow him, help him. There was no way he could protect Saoirse
and
fight off both Jean-Paul and Amir if it came to that. Luckily, David had other plans.
“Remember your instructions, Amir,” David seethed. “Forget about the girl and find The Well.”
Reluctantly, Amir obeyed, but just as he was about to turn and run into the ocean, he saw two blurred images approach the island, one swoosh of darkness coming from the inland, and a swirl of gray smoke flying in from the sea. When Nakano landed on the beach, Amir wasn't terribly surprised. Wherever Jean-Paul was, his daft, lovesick boyfriend was never far behind, but when the cloud of smoke hovered over Michael and Saoirse, he was amazed. This wasn't a natural phenomenon like the eclipse, this was something else, something preternatural, unreal. Amir just had no idea if it was something good or something like him.
As the fog began to twist and descend, Saoirse grabbed Michael even tighter, but Jean-Paul could tell by their expressions that this wasn't something harmful. They weren't afraid of what was happening; it was something they expected. “Go!” Jean-Paul shouted. Stunned, Nakano didn't realize that Jean-Paul was ordering Amir to get on with his mission and find The Well. He thought his boyfriend was screaming at him to leave.
“No!” Kano shouted back. “I'm not going anywhere without you!” What happened next would make that proclamation a difficult one for Nakano to carry out.
When Michael and Saoirse were almost completely enclosed within the fog, Jean-Paul leapt forward and into the mist. On reflex, Nakano imitated his boyfriend's actions and sprang toward the gray mass, reaching out his hand to try and latch on to Jean-Paul's arm. His target, however, proved to be as elusive as the tendrils of smoke that wisped about his face. Using his free hand, Jean-Paul effortlessly pushed Nakano away and saw him fall onto the hard sand a moment before he disappeared completely into the fog. Astonished, Nakano watched the gray cage start to rise off the ground, his eyes averting from the apparition only when he noticed Ronan looking down at him, his fangs bared, his expression filled with contempt. But Nakano didn't care. Nothing his one-time boyfriend could say or do mattered to him. He had to deal with someone else. And so did Ronan.

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