tighter, making their connection even more secure. Though after last night, Michael had no doubts; their connection was unbreakable.
Ronan stirred and nuzzled his cheek against Michael’s, his stubble rubbing against Michael’s smooth skin roughly, but so very pleasantly. Ronan moved his leg so his muscular thigh rested on top of Michael’s hip. The boy couldn’t move, but that was perfectly fine because there was nowhere else he wanted to go.
Imogene’s arm was wrapped around Penry, her head lying on his chest. The sun’s warmth felt good, but when a breeze, sudden and cool, floated over her, she held Penry tighter, rubbing his arm with her hand. This is strange, she thought. I don’t remember falling asleep with Penry last night. Stranger still, her ear was pressed against his chest and yet she didn’t hear any beating.
Unable to remain still, Michael rolled over, struggling a bit underneath Ronan’s weight, until he was face-to- face with his boyfriend. Ronan kept his eyes closed and tried to pretend to be asleep, relishing the fact that he was being admired by this boy whom he loved like no other, but he couldn’t resist; he had to see how beautiful he looked first thing in the morning. “I was right.”
“About what?” Michael asked.
“You’re cuter in the morning sun,” Ronan replied.
Michael laughed and thought, Ronan must be in love; my hair’s a mess, little bits of crust are still in my eyes, and my breath, oh God. But he understood because he felt the same way. Ronan was still the muscular young man he had first seen bathed in moonlight in front of the cathedral, but here, brightened by the sun, he looked even more delectable. His hair falling every which way, his eyes half open, he looked like a little boy, impish and full of life, who needed to be watched at all times. Michael was more than willing to take on that duty.
Softly, Ronan kissed Michael on the lips. “Thank you for last night.”
“It was fun,” Michael said, blushing through his smile. “I loved every second of it.” He kissed Ronan back, then kissed his cheek, and his ear, before rolling on top of him and hugging him tightly. Ronan felt wonderful, not so much because of Michael’s kisses, but because he could see that his neck had no marks on it. He had resisted. He wanted their first night together to be only about making love and nothing more. His mother wouldn’t be happy, but right now her happiness was the furthest thing from his mind.
Ronan brushed Michael’s hair back off his face. “Fancy taking a shower with me?”
The water felt cool, very refreshing, and it helped revive Imogene, pull her out from her deep sleep. She pressed her ear against Penry’s chest and while she could hear the raindrops plop down onto the grass, she still couldn’t hear his heart beating. She felt his wrist, and nothing.
“Penry … Penry, wake up,” she urged.
Fighting the panic she felt gaining speed inside of her, she tugged at the tips of her gloves. Maybe she couldn’t feel his pulse because of the material? That had to be it. Yanking her right glove off, she threw it onto the ground and wrapped her fingers around Penry’s wrist. She waited for the familiar pulses, indication that blood was pumping through his veins and into his heart, but she felt nothing.
She wiped the rainwater out of her eyes, smearing her mascara, the black ink mixing with the bloodstains on her glove. Bloodstains? Why are there bloodstains on my glove? She looked all around her and for the first time fully realized she was outside in The Forest. Why in the world am I here? She could see through the windows of St. Sebastian’s that the festival decorations were still hanging from the ceiling, but the ice sculpture was half melted; St. Michael was almost gone. Who would protect them? Who would heal Penry’s wounds? The rain had washed away the dried blood to reveal two gaping holes that Imogene knew shouldn’t be there. Her scream blared in her head before echoing through the air.
Michael didn’t think about sighing; the sound just formed on its own. That’s what he loved so much about being with Ronan. He was feeling more than thinking; he was allowing his body to do what it naturally wanted to do without being prohibited by his fears or the world’s ignorance. He knew his actions last night had upset his father. He couldn’t imagine how upset he’d be if he knew what he was doing right now, if he knew that Ronan was behind him, his arms wrapped around him, the warm shower water drenching their bodies. But right now his father had no say and no place in his world. His world was made up of just two people, him and Ronan. And whoever was knocking on the bathroom door.
Through the steam Michael could tell Ronan was not pleased. “Nakano!”
“No … it’s me.”
Agitated, Ronan fumed to Michael, “Now Ciaran wants to talk to me.”
“Ronan, I need to see you,” Ciaran shouted. “It’s … it’s an emergency.”
Leaning his head against the tiles, Ronan wished he and Michael could go some place far, far away where they wouldn’t be disturbed, but then Michael said something that made him realize that no such place truly existed. “Maybe it has something to do with your mother.”
Dripping wet, a towel hugging his waist, Ronan opened the door with such force it startled Ciaran. He jumped back as Ronan closed the door behind him, but not before he saw Michael’s silhouette behind the sliding glass shower door. “I wouldn’t have interrupted the two of you if this wasn’t important.”
Since he didn’t believe his brother, he ignored the comment. “What do you want? Last night you didn’t have the guts to tell me to sod off and this morning you’re banging down my door.”
“I thought you’d want to know Penry’s been attacked.”
A memory flashed through Ronan’s mind, a vision of Penry lying on the ground, two holes in his neck, Nakano watching in the distance. “Where’s Nakano?”
“You think it’s him?”
Ronan wiped some of the shower water off his face with his hand, a few drops falling to the floor. “Who else could it be?”
“Nakano wasn’t the only vampire at the festival last night.”
Furious, Ronan pushed Ciaran in the chest, making his brother stumble backward and fall onto the unmade bed. When he spoke, it sounded like a hiss. “You think I had something to do with this?”
Refusing to back down, Ciaran fought back and kicked his brother as hard as he could. Not expecting any physical response from Ciaran, Ronan was caught unawares and staggered back from the impact, knocking into the bathroom door. “Why do you always think the worst of me?!” Ciaran didn’t wait for an answer because he knew none would come, so he just explained what he had meant. “I was thinking of Brania.”
“What about Brania?” Michael asked, opening the bathroom door.
Once again Ciaran lied to Michael’s face. “Penry and Imogene were attacked in The Forest last night and I was concerned for Brania’s safety. She left the festival by herself.” This time his lie sounded a lot more convincing because it consisted mainly of fact. The only untruth in the statement was Ciaran’s concern for Brania. He didn’t care what happened to the girl, but Michael needn’t know that.
“Oh God, not again!” Michael shouted, unconsciously grabbing Ronan’s arm. “Are they all right?”
It must be nice to take a morning shower with another person, Ciaran thought, forcing his eyes to look elsewhere other than at the two wet boys standing in front of him. “They’re both with MacCleery,” Ciaran said. “I think Imogene’s okay, but … I’m not sure about Penry.”
“We have to go see him,” Michael said, rushing past Ciaran to put his clothes back on.
“You may want to wear something else,” Ciaran suggested. “You’ll look a little obvious in your suit.”
With only one pant leg on, Michael realized Ciaran was right. He wasn’t embarrassed, but there was no need to advertise to the entire academy that he spent the night with Ronan, especially under the circumstances. “I have some sweatpants that should fit you,” Ronan said. “Third drawer from the top.”
“I’ll wait downstairs,” Ciaran announced. “But don’t take too long getting dressed.”
The waiting room at St. Luke’s was unusually crowded. The last time Penry was attacked, only Ronan and Michael knew about it at first, but this time thanks to Imogene’s shrieks, which rang through the air like the morning church bells, half the academy was trying to get inside to find out what was going on. But since it was Sunday, all the students should have been walking over to the cathedral for mass, attendance at which was mandatory. “You have five minutes to make nine o’clock mass,” Mrs. Radcliff reminded everyone. “I don’t think Headmaster Hawksbry will tolerate your absence.”
Collectively, the group griped. They knew she was right, but they also knew something was wrong with their friends. “Can’t you tell us what’s going on?” one student bellowed over the crowd.
No, she thought, I cannot tell you what’s going on because I will not be able to handle the mass hysteria. “Imogene and Penry are being treated by Dr. MacCleery,” she stated. “By the time mass is over, we should have a
