only sound in the cave was The Well’s vibrations that increased tenfold in response to David’s incredible makeover. When Michael finally spoke, his words could hardly be heard. “Oh ... my ...”
“God,” David said, finishing his thought.
“What the bloody hell is happening!” Blakeley shouted. England wasn’t supposed to have earthquakes? Was she? Well, she must, because the ground was shaking. And it wasn’t just because a stampede of students was rushing past him to get inside St. Sebastian’s and hopefully to safety. All except those two. “Ciaran! Saoirse!” Blakeley cried out. “Don’t just stand there! Get your arses into the gym!”
But when Blakeley got closer to them he couldn’t move either. It wasn’t every day he saw a colleague ripping open a student’s neck with his teeth. “Joubert!” Blakeley gasped. “What the ...”
That’s all he could say before Joubert let go of Talisa’s convulsing body to lunge at Blakeley like some deformed animal and knock him to the ground. He heard some bones in his back break and, sadly, he knew they were the least of his worries.
Flat on his back, staring up into his colleague’s now-unrecognizable face, Blakeley finally understood what was happening. Evil really was walking among the angels. Lochlan had been right all along! Not only was evil alive at Double A, it was living inside his colleagues. He didn’t know if the thing on top of him was a monster, a zombie, or a vampire. It didn’t matter. Whatever it was, there was still a chance that his friend was trapped inside. “Gwendal!” Blakeley cried. “Listen to me, please!” Frozen on the sidelines, Ciaran and Saoirse watched Joubert release his hold on Blakeley and look down at him with a quizzical expression. It was working; Blakeley was reaching him. “Let me help you, mate,” Blakeley said. “You don’t have to do this!”
Stupid mortal. Joubert already knew that. But he also knew that the leader he had once trusted was out of his mind, Jean-Paul had been senselessly murdered, and all his years teaching theology had brought him no closer to God. He was damned, and there was nothing Blakeley could say or do that could help him.
“I know I don’t have to,” Joubert finally replied. “But I want to.”
At first Blakeley didn’t feel a thing, then it was like a branding iron was being seared into his neck.
His body was flooded with so much burning heat that Blakeley thought he was going to spontaneously combust. And when he saw the flames erupt in front of him, he was convinced that the fireball was him and not Joubert.
“Oh my God, it worked!” Ciaran said as he stared in amazement at the syringe he was still holding in his hand. When he had realized he had an extra one in his pants’ pocket, he wasn’t sure if it could substitute for a stake, but he jammed it into Joubert’s back, piercing his heart from behind, just in case. Score one for the Science Boy! Seeing his coach turn paler by the second, he thought it might be a hollow victory. Then again, maybe not.
“Coach,” Ciaran said, bending low and whispering in his ear. “Hold on! We can reverse this; we can make you live forever. You just have to say the word, and we’ll find someone.”
Saoirse was shocked. Even in the face of death, Ciaran was a scientist and looked for a way to prolong life. Taking in the extent of Blakeley’s injuries, she wasn’t sure any vampire would be able to help him become immortal. They would never know, however, because Blakeley had another wish.
“Get me to Sister Mary,” he said urgently. “Now.”
Ciaran could try to cheat death; Saoirse wanted to respect Blakeley’s request. Scooping the coach up in her arms, she barely felt his weight. “Go to the gym, Ciar,” she ordered.
“I’m not leaving you alone,” her brother protested.
“Aren’t you the one who’s always telling me how special I am?” she asked. “Let me prove it.”
Reluctantly, Ciaran was forced to admit that Saoirse could protect herself better than he could. “Be careful,” he warned.
Following her instincts, Saoirse sprinted to Archangel Cathedral and wasn’t surprised to find Sister Mary praying in a pew near the back of the church. She was surprised, however, to see Nakano kneeling next to her. Suddenly, her burden was too heavy, and Saoirse gently placed Blakeley on the cold, marble floor. He didn’t feel the chill. Switching places, Sister Mary knelt next to Blakeley, and Saoirse sat next to Nakano. As Kano held his friend’s hand, Blakeley reached up for Sister Mary’s.
The nun cradled his head in her lap, not looking away from his fearful eyes, not flinching at his grotesque wounds. She crossed herself and then kissed the small, silver crucifix that always adorned her neck.
“Sister,” Blakeley said, as the blood poured from his neck, staining her habit. “Please ... teach me to pray before I die.”
“Repeat after me,” she said. “Our Father, who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name.” She continued, pausing after each phrase so Blakeley could repeat her words, so he could finally speak out loud the prayer that had eluded him for almost his entire lifetime. Saying the words softly, slowly, he felt like a child learning how to speak, learning a language he had never known existed. He wanted to thank her for giving him such a beautiful gift, but the moment after he mouthed the word
chapter 30
The Well wanted to be alone. It had had enough of intruders and uninvited guests and wanted them to leave. It was trying to be subtle, vibrate at a low frequency, shake the earth noticeably, but lightly, hoping its message would be received. Several minutes had passed, and still no one was taking the hint. All right then. The time had come for more drastic action.
Rumbling louder, The Well shook the earth more violently. Brania and Imogene fell to the ground on top of each other, and Ronan grabbed onto both Edwige and Michael for support so he wouldn’t topple over. Only David stood tall, unfazed by the anger that was erupting around them. As the rocks in the walls started to grind against each other and shift position, the cave began to fill with dust.
David smiled and raised his hands over his head, making his wings stretch out a few inches farther. “I pledge to you, Zachariel,” David prayed, “that I will destroy this Well and wipe its existence from your earth!”
An earsplitting roar bellowed from The Well itself, and the stones in the ground and the ceiling started to split apart from one other. Michael didn’t know who was in control—David or The Well-but it looked like the cave was starting to be demolished. He held on to Ronan tighter and was glad to see that his boyfriend was getting his strength back, that the fire was returning to his eyes, but Michael wondered if it was too late. What could they possibly do to stop David from carrying out his depraved plot? Sure, the man was demented, but he had been successful. He had found The Well’s location just as he had threatened.
“Water connects life to death, bridging the gap to immortality,” David said. “Once I sever your connection and destroy the source of your
“Will you shut up about Zachariel!” Michael cried. “He is nothing compared to The Well!”
David loved accepting a challenge from someone he considered a fool. “Let’s see about that,” he fumed.
Standing with his back to The Well, David tucked his wings in close to his body. Then he arched his back so they could unfurl at a rapid speed and slap against The Well’s already shaking stones.
Laughing wildly, David kept flapping his immense wings, and each time feather struck rock the entire cave shook. Soon it looked like The Well was being torn from its foundation. Michael couldn’t believe it. David was doing it; he was actually destroying The Well. This had gone too far.
Splitting apart, they each jumped up and grabbed onto a wing, but David’s unnatural appendages were so thick and powerful, they wouldn’t bend. Michael and Ronan could only hang onto them, unable to touch the ground with their feet to gain leverage. As a result their added weight did nothing to slow down the wings’ assault.
