Unafraid (24 page)

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Authors: Michael Griffo

BOOK: Unafraid
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Amid the bonfire emerged a specter, the true face of David's sister Rhoswen appearing the same way she looked the night she had died. “I've come home, Dahey,” the face advised, calling David by his Christian name.
He was repulsed by the sight and sound of the past, but unable to look away. David's skin was almost as white as the apparition. “NO!” he shrieked. “This can't be. You're dead!”
The phantom was now a full-bodied image. Rhoswen stepped out of the flames, her body, her hair, her long gown, all white, as she floated toward her brother. “So are you,” she said, smiling impishly, “and that hasn't stopped you from roaming the planet for centuries.”
Cowering, David clutched at his desk, holding up one hand in front of his face in a futile attempt to shield his eyes from the vision. “What do you want from me?!”
Rhoswen began to retreat back into the flames, her voice growing fainter the closer she got to the fire. “I'll let the girl, Ruby, explain,” she said. “She's proven to be an amazing creature and has served me well.” Even after Rhoswen disappeared into the flames, every trace of white consumed by red, she was still able to issue one final warning. “Do not underestimate her like you've underestimated me.”
Now that his sister was no longer present, no longer posed a threat, David found his courage. “I killed you once!” he cried. “I'll kill you again.”
As if in response to his tirade, the flames extinguished, and the room was plunged into almost total darkness, the only light from the full moon outside. It was enough, however, for David to see Rhoswen's book, unburnt and intact, fly out from the fireplace and land at his feet. The marble rose still white and immaculate and staring up at him like an accusation that simply wouldn't die.
chapter 19
“I cannot believe my little sister has a boyfriend.”
“And I cannot believe you're finding that so hard to believe.”
“But she's only sixteen!”
“And you had already found and lost your soul mate by that age!” Michael shouted, immediately realizing his words if not his tone were rather harsh. “Sorry, Ro, but it had to be said.”
“You're right, love, it did,” Ronan said, grabbing Michael's hand. He then gave it a squeeze, playful, but a tad harder than necessary. “But promise me one thing?”
“Sure,” Michael replied, trying not to wince under the pressure. “What is it?”
“For the rest of the night, do not say anything that'll remind me of Morgandy,” Ronan said. “It's going to be difficult enough as it is to have fun. No need to make things worse.”
They continued to hold hands as they walked past The Apple Tree, remembering the first time they did so in public. They hadn't thought about it that first time. They hadn't been trying to be brave or make some sort of political statement; it had been natural. Their hands had found each other as they walked side by side just as their souls had found each other, even though they lived on opposite sides of the world.
Tiny clumps of snow were now piled onto the bronzed branches and leaves, making the sculpture look as if it were halfway between life and death, just like the boys who passed underneath its shade. Michael took it as a sign that they belonged there and that it was a perfect night for a double date. When he turned the corner, he changed his mind.
Stopping abruptly they allowed a stray black cat uninterrupted passage from the empty street into a narrow slither of darkness between two stone-faced buildings. Michael couldn't see the cat's face trapped within the black abyss, but he heard its hiss and realized it could be a warning that they should turn around and go home. Ronan took it as confirmation that the nagging ache he had felt in the pit of his stomach during the drive into town had nothing to do with his being an overprotective brother uneager to see his little sister as someone's girlfriend and everything to do with his gut feeling that the night was not going to end well. “So don't mention Morgandy,” Ronan said. “And in exchange I'll make you a promise.”
“What's that?” Michael asked cautiously as the unseen cat hissed once again.
Smiling, Ronan put his arm around Michael's shoulder and whispered into his ear. “If tonight goes as I think it will, I promise I won't say I told you so.”
Eden was rather desolate for a Saturday night. And the town looked even bleaker since it was decorated for the holiday season. Almost every window twinkled with colored lights. Santas, snowmen, and Christmas trees had taken up residence in front of stores and on street corners. But Michael and Ronan were the only spectators, the only witnesses to the elaborate display. Despite the store owners' efforts, early December had failed to attract many tourists. Or people had just stayed away because they knew it wasn't going to be a night for celebration.
But then Michael looked across the street and saw that a huge, green wreath hung over the Eden Café sign. What could possibly go wrong when everything looked so festive? Glancing down the alleyway that served as a shortcut from the opposite direction to the café's entrance, he found out that decorations were no match for destiny.
“Morgandy?!” Ronan bellowed.
Down at the other end of the alleyway Ronan saw Saoirse walking toward them holding Morgandy's hand, her smile wilting when she heard the anger in her brother's voice. It disappeared completely when she saw Ronan and Michael sprint from one end of the alley to the other and stop mere inches in front of them. She expected her brother to be rude, boorish, unhappy to acknowledge that his sister was growing up. She didn't expect this. She knew that look; she had seen it only a few times before, but it still alarmed her. The way Ronan was looking at Morgandy, Saoirse knew he was resisting the urge to transform into his true image and rip a gaping hole in her boyfriend's neck with his fangs.
“Is this some kind of bloody joke?!” Ronan barked.
Shock finally segued to embarrassment. “Ronan!” Saoirse seethed. “This is my boyfriend.”
“This is insane!” Ronan roared.
The force of Ronan's rage scared Michael, and he realized that if he didn't intervene there would be bloodshed. But what could he possibly say to placate Ronan? What words could possibly diffuse the situation, make it less offensive and, yes, less insane than it truly was? Morgandy was Saoirse's secret boyfriend? Just what kind of a sick game was this guy playing? Unable to find an appropriate word to utter, Michael simply placed a hand on Ronan's arm and was grateful that Ronan didn't flick it away. It was a good sign; it meant that Ronan hadn't given in to his primal instinct, he was in control of his emotions, his anger, and was willing to listen to reason. If any reason could be found. Finally, Michael found his voice. “Saoirse,” he said calmly. “Don't you know who this is?”
Slowly she turned to face Morgandy. She searched his hazel eyes and loose blond curls. He looked so innocent, just a boy on the brink of manhood, but was it all a mask? Could he be harboring secrets that lay just behind that smooth skin and those soft lips that felt so incredibly good when they were pressed against her own? If she were a normal teenager, she wouldn't question Morgandy's intent; she would know that her brother was just overreacting. But she wasn't normal, and she knew better. What did Ronan and Michael know about Morgandy that she didn't? Suddenly Morgandy's silence was overwhelming, and his hand felt very heavy in hers. The connection felt wrong, and she wished that she were back in her room hanging out with Ruby, acting like the stupid little girl that she was beginning to think she was. “He's my boyfriend,” she replied weakly.
“He was my soul mate!” Ronan cried.
“What?!” Saoirse heard her brother's words, but they didn't make sense. There was absolutely no way her boyfriend had once been Ronan's. That was so ... so ... It was so beyond comprehension that Saoirse didn't even have a word for it. It was so wrong that it had to be right. She had known all along that Ronan was never going to approve of her boyfriend. She had known he was going to convince her that she was too young to be committed to one person or that because of her unique heritage she should stay away from guys she met at school and only date guys that Ronan handpicked for her, who received her arrogant brother's water vamp stamp of approval. She had absolutely no idea he would go to such extreme lengths to try and break up her relationship. “That's flippin' ridiculous, Ro.”
“It's the truth,” he replied.
The simplicity of his words and the seriousness of his voice gave Saoirse pause. She didn't want to believe his accusation, but what was the alternative? That Ronan was staring at her—his face a disturbing blend of compassion and fear—and lying. He would never do that, would he? It took someone who loved her brother just as much as she did to make her understand, as painful as it was, that Ronan was telling the truth.
“You know you can trust Ronan, Saoirse,” Michael said. “He would never lie to you.”
Michael was right, that made sense. Holding Morgandy's hand didn't. She let go of it like she had just been zapped with an electric current, without thought, the will to survive taking over. Looking at Morgandy's angelic face, she couldn't believe he was the demon from her brother's past. “He's the one you and Mum never wanted to talk about?” she gasped.
“Yes,” Ronan replied.
“He's the one you were living with while I was trapped in France and being ignored?”
“Yes.”
Saoirse's body started to shake. Her voice grew from a breath to a roar. “He's the one who was so cruel, your race could never even speak his name?!”
“Yes!”
Michael wished he could reach out and hug the girl. She looked so confused, so young, and he knew exactly what she was going through. Not long ago he had felt the same way. The circumstances were different, but the emotions, conflicting, shattering, devastating, were the same. But Saoirse wasn't Michael; she really was Edwige's daughter, and although she looked frail and destructible, she wasn't. Even now, gripped by emotional turmoil, she didn't want consolation; she wanted answers.
“Morgandy!” Saoirse's voice was part-shout, part-plea. “How could you do this to me?”
Finally, he spoke, his cavalier attitude belying the gravity of the situation. “Seersh, ya got it all wrong.”
“Don't call me Seersh!” she screamed, her body jerking forward viciously. “Just answer my question! How could you deceive me like this?!” she cried, taking another lumbering step toward Morgandy, the intensity of her movement making him back away involuntarily. “How could you do it knowing bloody well that Ronan is my brother?!”
The sun had already set, and they were far from the brightly lit street, so the only light came from an uncovered work lamp that hung above a loading dock at the end of the taller brick building across from the café. Half of the alley was illuminated, the other half was dark, a slant of black that started from the work lamp and ended squarely at Morgandy's right foot, his body literally cut in half. His face and the right side of his torso were softened by lamplight; the rest of his body was drenched in darkness. “I figured out that he was your brother,” Morgandy said. “Glynn-Rowley isn't the most common last name.”
Saoirse wasn't the only one shocked by this revelation. “And you didn't think that was something you should mention to her?” Michael asked.
Morgandy looked at Michael with pity, his eyes condescending, like an arrogant teacher who knew the truth lay well beyond his student's grasp. “Ronan and I had a little ... oh I guess you could call it a misunderstanding.”
“Bugger that!” Ronan shouted. “There was no misunderstanding! We share a past!”
This time Michael didn't try to calm Ronan, not because he didn't think it was necessary, but because he couldn't. He was just as angry as Ronan was. Morgandy had betrayed Ronan. He had returned and betrayed Saoirse. And now that he was caught, he was taunting them, making a mockery of their outrage. How much of a freaking jerk could he be?
“You came on to me, and I rebuffed you,” Morgandy said dismissively.
Luckily, Ronan didn't have to explain what had happened. Saoirse knew Morgandy was lying. She slapped him hard in the shoulder, making him scuttle back awkwardly into complete shadow. “Oh right, you just forgot that you and my brother offered your souls to The Well!”
“What the hell are you talking about?!” Morgandy replied, his face hardly visible, so it seemed like a voice had materialized from the ether. “I don't know about any well!”
“I don't believe you!” Saoirse shouted back.
“It's the truth.”
Now Ronan was defending Morgandy? What the hell
was
going on? Saoirse was more confused than ever. Her eyes darted from Ronan to Michael, and she could tell from Michael's expression that he wasn't surprised by Ronan's outburst, so she figured her brother must be telling the truth once again. She took a step closer to Ronan and waved her finger in his face with such force that if it had been a knife she would have split the air into shreds. “You have one bloody minute to explain in simple bloody detail what the bloody hell is going on here!!”
Michael could sense that Ronan was about to reach out to his sister, put his arms on her shoulder, but Michael had an even stronger sense that Saoirse didn't want to be touched. He applied more pressure to Ronan's arm and thankfully he got the hint. Keeping his distance, Ronan laid it out as plainly as he could. “When Morgandy betrayed me and our entire race, The Well forbade us to speak of him again, which is why you never knew his name. The Well also wiped his memory clean, which is why he has no idea we were ever soul mates.” Ronan paused, not only to give Saoirse time to digest the information, but to give himself time to breathe more evenly. “At some point David must have found him, I don't know when exactly, could have been before we were ever joined together or after he was banished, I don't know, but it doesn't really matter. All that matters now is that he's chosen to become one of Them.”
Everything she had shared with Morgandy was a lie. Not one kiss, not one secret conversation had meant anything. Not one daydream that she had had of their future was ever going to come true. All because Morgandy was a sham, a creep, and worst of all, a fool. “I can almost get over the fact that you forgot you were gay and that you now think you're straight, but you gave up being a water vamp to be like those other ...
things?
” Saoirse was so repulsed she could hardly look at Morgandy. “Just how bleedin' stupid are you?”
As he stepped back into the light, Morgandy's face was a scowl and had lost some of its innocent beauty. When he spoke his voice wasn't innocent or beautiful; it contained too much knowledge, it sounded too deep. “You have no idea how incredibly powerful David and his people are.”

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