Ronan and Michael didn’t want to hear that she would rather be back in St. Sebastian’s or in her dorm hanging out with Ruby, so she self-edited and joined in with the merriment. “Well then, three cheers for Ciaran!”
“Professor Chow would probably give him full marks and an engraved plaque,” Michael declared.
“Heck he’d probably petition to have the Einstein Wing be renamed The Ciaran Eaves Research Laboratory For Things That Defy Explanation!”
“Brilliant idea!” Ronan beamed. “I second it!”
Rubbing the back of Michael’s neck, Ronan held out his hand to Saoirse. Unsure of what her brother was staging, she held his hand and could feel the blood pumping through his veins. “This is an unprecedented event in our history,” Ronan announced. “And I’m so bloody happy that I got to witness it.” He squeezed her hand tightly. “Thank you, Saoirse.”
“I should be thanking you guys,” she stated. “This is all really beautiful in its own way and peaceful and everything, but I thought I was going to be stuck here forever, so, um, thanks for showing up.”
Michael grabbed Saoirse’s free hand so the three of them were joined as one. “Why don’t we go home and share the good news with the man of the hour?” he suggested. “Ciaran’s gotta be dying to know what’s going on.”
“Good!” Saoirse declared. “Because I’ve got a pep rally to get to, and if we don’t leave right now I’m going to be late.”
Once again the water rippled, more intensely this time, and the cave was filled with a harp’s flourish that indeed sounded like laughter. Clearly, The Well was amused by Saoirse’s priorities.
“Then let’s go,” Ronan said. The words were barely out of his mouth and he realized they might have a very serious problem. “Saoirse, I don’t know exactly how you got here, but are you going to be able to hold your breath until we reach the water’s surface?” he asked.
Saoirse didn’t know exactly how she had gotten here either, but thinking back to how easily she had breathed underwater in the pool, she wasn’t worried. “No need to fret, Roney,” she assured. “Me and The Well here have got it all under control.”
Standing in Sister Mary Elizabeth’s office, Blakeley couldn’t control his emotions. He was nervous, scared, and more than a little embarrassed. The first two feelings he was familiar with; the third, not so much. It wasn’t because his trophy-filled office looked like it was a narcissist’s retreat compared to the austerity of the nun’s quarters. It was simply that it had been years since he had sought religious guidance. He didn’t know how to begin.
Sitting behind her desk, Sister Mary recognized when someone was floundering. She placed her pencil next to her notepad and smiled. “Why don’t you take a seat and tell me what brings you here?”
Blakeley could hardly stop pacing the small confines of the office; there was no way he was going to be able to remain seated. No, gotta keep moving, stay alert. Just because he was in a nun’s office didn’t mean he was safe; he knew better. “I’d rather stand, thank you.”
“Whatever makes you most comfortable,” she said. Knowing the coach the way she did, she knew that he was a no-nonsense man, so she adopted the same approach. She replaced her smile with a more serious look and asked, “So tell me, Peter, what’s on your mind?”
How appropriate that a Christian woman would remind him that he had a Christian name. He hadn’t been called Peter in years. To everyone—co-workers, students, their parents—he was just Blakeley or Coach. The sound of his own name made him feel like a child again. Had he really strayed that far from who he was? Had he really grown up to disregard everything that he had learned? Did it take something so ... unnatural, so evil to remind him that he had once believed in things that required faith? He had no clue if this woman, this frail woman whose only weapon against the unknown was devotion, could help him regain his footing, help him rebuild his courage, but he had to try.
“Confession being good for the soul and all that tommyrot?” he asked, his voice sarcastic to hide the flurry of emotions growing in his heart.
Clasping her hands, Sister Mary replied, “Just the simplest way to begin a conversation.”
Blakeley found Sister Mary’s straightforward attitude reassuring, if not entirely calming. Gripping the back of the only other chair in the room, he looked into the sister’s unblinking eyes and found the strength to articulate the fear that threatened to consume him. “It’s Michael Howard, Sister, he’s not right,” he blurted out. “He’s trouble.”
“Did you come to that conclusion on your own?” she asked. “Or did you pray to God for guidance and understanding?”
“I don’t know how to pray.”
Sister Mary laughed more heartily than she or Blakeley expected. The sound was high-pitched and seemed to be released from not just her throat, but her whole body. “If you know how to talk,” she said, “you know how to pray.”
“This isn’t funny, Sister!” Blakeley yelled, unable to control his anger. “I’m scared! And I think you know me well enough to know that that’s not something I admit to very often.”
“There’s nothing wrong with being fearful, Peter,” Sister Mary replied. Every trace of laughter was gone from her voice and had been replaced with a tone that was solemn and learned. “It’s how we act when we’re afraid that’s key.”
“Don’t give me that! You’ve noticed it too. I’ve watched you!” Blakeley shouted, his forehead glazed with sweat. “You know there’s something wrong with this Howard kid, and yet you’re not afraid of him. Why?!”
Sister Mary wished she could hold Blakeley’s hand and tell him he had nothing to be concerned about, that his fears were unfounded, but that wasn’t the truth. Something bad was happening at Double A, and she was fully aware that Michael was at the center of it, but there wasn’t a single part of her mind or soul that believed he was the cause; she believed he would be the salvation.
Unfortunately, there was no way she was going to convince Blakeley of her beliefs. As with all faith-related teachings, he would have to come to his own conclusion in his own time.
“I know how I feel about Michael,” she said. “What you need to do is search within yourself to find out how you truly feel about him.”
Frustrated, Blakeley pressed harder on the back of the chair and pushed it down into the floor, the sound of wood scraping against wood interrupting the conversation. “So you got no answers for me then?” Blakeley challenged.
“I’m a nun, not an oracle,” Sister Mary replied. She was hopeful that her laughter and slight irreverence would have more impact on her caller than a pious decree. “And I think you’re a big enough boy to figure out the answers all on your own.”
Brania wasn’t sure what specific questions she should ask, but she knew if anyone could give her answers about her father’s past it was his sister. That’s why when Rhoswen showed up at the cave without warning or an invitation, announcing that it was time they went on a tour of the past, Brania was riddled with curiosity, even though she knew instinctively that it would alter the way she felt about her father forever.
Stepping out of Ruby’s body, Rhoswen ignored Imogene’s shriek and walked toward Brania, her green and white dress flowing around her, making it look like she was floating over the stones. The scent of the white roses that hung around her waist and graced her head drowned out the musty odor that occupied the cave. Her one outstretched arm, her one beckoning hand, was like an offering of unparalleled insight and knowledge, and Brania ached to grab onto it. But could she? Should she?
“I don’t want to go with you,” Brania said, inexplicably nervous about journeying into the unknown.
It was an absurd feeling, but she sensed that wherever Rhoswen wanted to take her, whatever events she wanted her to see, would be horrifying. But how could anything be more horrifying than what she already knew about her father? He had made her do heinous things as a child. He had ripped purity from her heart and allowed the black blemishes of sin to s
ettle into her soul, all because he was a coward, because he wanted to reap the benefits of someone else’s wicked actions. Someone who he was supposed to love and protect and cherish. No, it was time to stop acting like the child she had never been and learn the truth. All she had to do was take hold of Rhoswen’s hand. If it was so simple, why was she hesitating?
“Do you want to control your own immortality?” Rhoswen asked.
Brania’s reply was immediate. “Yes.”
“Do you want to break free from the harness your father has shackled you with?”
Again, Brania’s answer came without thought. “Yes.”
“Do you want to understand that the man who prevents you from fulfilling your potential is not worthy of your fear?”
Brania hesitated. Did she really want such knowledge? Did she really want to sever the ties that bound her to the man whom she loved and despised in equal amounts? She heard Imogene whimper, unnerved at watching Ruby’s body remain frozen at one end of the cave and Rhoswen’s ghost-like presence take up the other, and Brania found her answer. As much as she loved her ward, she never wanted to be that fragile, that despondent. If she didn’t take this step, chances were that’s what she would become. If she didn’t take hold of Rhoswen’s hand, she might never have another opportunity to escape that fate.
The moment flesh touched spirit, Brania and Rhoswen disappeared as easily as Imogene was able to when she was frightened. Hurtling into black space, Brania was blinded for a moment. Then she saw the world race by her like wisps of multicolored light. Nothing was clear; nothing was recognizable; she couldn’t make out any landmarks, until she landed.
St. Joshua’s looked the same, only the surroundings were different. There were very few buildings nearby, and the foliage was overflowing, wild, nothing like the meticulously manicured lawn today.
Brania didn’t know what time period she was in until she looked through the library window and saw her father as a teenager reading to a girl who was the carbon copy of the billowing spirit that stood next to her. The girl sitting on the ground next to her father was listening intently, devouring every word he spoke, all the while caressing a bouquet of white roses, stroking each petal and occasionally brushing a flower across her lips or her useless eyes.
“Your father would read to me every day,” Rhoswen explained. “And with each new book he’d bring me a fistful of white roses.”
The image was startling. David looked so gentle. Could this be the same man she knew? “He loves you very much,” Brania observed.
“He did.” Rhoswen clutched Brania’s hand, her spirit-grip firm and secure, and they disappeared again only to reemerge standing outside the same building, only this time it looked different, slightly more modern. Brania realized they had traveled a few years into the future from the previous scene.
As the action unfolded before her eyes, Brania realized that this was the man she knew, this was the man she loved and hated and wanted to destroy. This was the man capable of performing acts of cruelty on those he claimed to love. Brania felt her heart pound within her chest as she watched Rhoswen sit staring into her own private darkness, smiling, unsuspecting, while a few feet away David cut himself and created a circle of his own blood. She felt her stomach churn as she heard him whisper in Rhoswen’s ear that they were going to play a game. And she screamed out loud when David stabbed his sister in the back while she smiled.
The first thought that came to her mind when she stopped screaming was that her father didn’t even have the courage to look Rhoswen in the face when he murdered her. The next was: Why did he do something so vile in the first place?
Reading her mind, Rhoswen explained. “Your father sacrificed me to Zachariel so he could become a vampire. As part of his reward, Zachariel made it so his race could walk in the sunlight on this hallowed ground.” The blind girl smiled. “Ironically, only their eyes needed protection from sunshine.”
Finally, Brania understood what was so special about this land; it was drenched in her family’s blood. “He’s destroyed everyone who’s ever loved him.”
Finally, Rhoswen knew her murder would be avenged. “Because he loves himself and his power just a little bit more.”
She scooped up a handful of dirt and blood from the ground where her dead body lay and molded it into a ball. She threw it up in the air, and when it landed in Brania’s waiting hands the ball of dirt had transformed into a gorgeous white rose in full bloom. “This flower will bring you more luck than any of my flowers have over the centuries,” she advised. “Choose how you use it wisely.”
By the time they returned to the cave and Rhoswen had once again assumed Ruby’s body, Brania already knew what she must do. After Rhoswen left, she helped Imogene out of her coffin and sat the girl down next to her on the large boulder in the middle of the cave.
“I have good news,” she said, though her expression was far more sinister than joyful. “It’s time for us to get to work so we can reclaim our freedom.”
chapter 26
Girls suck! Totally, completely, and without a bloody doubt.
Nakano looked from face to face to face, from the Italian girl to the Swede to the pretty Hindu girl with the pierced nose, and he couldn’t believe he was standing in the boys’ locker room surrounded by nothing but girls who wouldn’t shut up. On and on and on they chattered about the stupidest things in the world; one dumb sentence after another tumbled out of their painted mouths. Nakano thought if he had to listen to one more word about clothes or makeup or the best feminine products his head would explode. The only girl he had any interest in talking to had double crossed him, the same girl who had gotten him in this mess in the first place, and the same girl who was running into the locker room from the back entrance.
“Saoirse!” Nakano yelled. “It’s about time!”
“Sorry,” she said, buttoning up her skirt. “I was, um, a little detained.”
“Crikey! I thought you were going to stand me up.”
“Kanosan! How could you think I would do that?” she yelled back. “I’m the one who set this whole thing up.”
“Well, you’re cutting it a little close, aren’t you?” he said. “We go on in less than a bloody minute.”
“I had stuff to do with my brother and Michael,” she replied, fusing a lie with the truth. “But I’m here now and I’m ready to go. Isn’t it exciting?!”
“No, it isn’t!” Nakano’s complexion turned even paler than normal. “I’m terrified.”
And he had reason to be. Never before had Nakano been in a situation like this, not as a human or as a vampire, and he had been in some peculiar and unusual situations as both. This one, however, was odder than them all.
Huddled in the locker room, he wondered if he was about to make the stupidest mistake of his life.
If he did he would have no one else to blame except himself. Well, and Saoirse too, because it was her idea and she was the one who had talked him into doing it, but at some point he could have said no. It was just that he didn’t want to. He was having fun, and that’s all he really wanted, to balance out all the stress he’d been under lately with some good times. Running his hand nervously through the bristly top of his crew cut, he had the feeling that those good times were all about to come to an end.
“Ladies! And Mr. Kai, here we go!” the Italian girl chirped excitedly. “Kano, you stay in the middle of the group like we decided, since you’re our secret weapon.”
The girl was Talisa Rondo, captain of the cheerleading squad, and she was leading Nakano out onto the St. Sebastian gym floor for his debut as the first and thus far only male cheerleader in all of Double A’s history. Instead, he felt like he was being led to an execution.
David’s voice boomed throughout the gym and spilled into the locker room. “Honored guests, distinguished rivals, I welcome all of you to the National Swim Team Competition and Archangel Academy’s Tri-Centennial Celebration.” He paused as the crowd roared, and the sound made Nakano sic
k. They were a rowdy group, filled with students and faculty members from schools all across Western Europe who had come here to win some swimming races, and as a side treat they were going to get to ridicule the lone boy who was cheering with all the girls. They would join in with Fritz and Ronan and all his other so-called friends at Double A to morph into one loud, angry, mocking voice that Nakano would hear in his dreams for the rest of eternity. This was so not worth it. “I can’t do this.”
Saoirse whipped around so fast that her ponytail whacked Nakano in the face. “Vamp up, Kanosan,” she whispered. “We’ve been practicing and working our arses off for this moment for weeks.”
Wiping away some cold sweat that was bubbling on his forehead, Kano nodded. “I know, and it’s been great, Seersh, I’ve had a really great time with you and the squad, but I can’t do this.”
“Why? Because everybody’s going to find out you’re gay?” she asked, fists on hips. “We interrupt this pep rally for a school news bulletin, everybody already knows!”
“Yes, okay!” he admitted. “I’m proud of who I am, but why do I have to advertise it to the entire school? To every bloody school in Western Europe?”
Saoirse had no idea what it was like to be gay, but she did know what it was like to be embarrassed because of who you were, so she understood what Nakano was going through. She also knew that after the shock of seeing Nakano standing in a field of pom-pom girls wore off, the crowd was going to flip out watching Kano do all his acrobatic vampire tricks. She had to find the right words to convince him that if he chickened out now he would never forgive himself. Subtlety had never worked for her before, so why start now.
“If you wimp out now and watch this pep rally from the bleachers instead of showing this school and this whole crowd how brill your moves are, you will regret it for the rest of your life,” she spat.
“And when you’re 192 and I’m dead, I’ll come back as a ghost and make you remember that you gave up a chance to be a superstar cheerleader just ’cause you were scared.” She took a breath to let her words seep into Nakano’s brain and his heart, but saw no change; it looked like she hadn’t made an impact. One last try. “Do not deprive these people of seeing the Kano triple twist backflip,” she whispered reverentially. “It will make them believe in the impossible.” What a terrific closing argument! Saoirse seriously thought she might try for a career as a lawyer, she could be very persuasive when she wanted to.
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