some air.”
“Sounds good to me,” Nakano said. “My fun stopped once the plane landed.”
Throwing on a jacket, Michael announced, “Oh, and my father arranged for us to take an earlier flight and fly directly into Eden instead of London, so this is probably the last time you’ll ever see me again.” Standing in the archway of the front door, Michael turned to his grandfather. “Any final words?”
His grandfather didn’t know what feeling was the strongest, fear, regret, anger. But how dare his grandson talk to him that way, like he was nothing? Waving his beer bottle at Michael, bubbles pouring out of the bottle, spilling onto his shaking hand, he shouted, “You go to hell!”
Michael smirked. “Oddly enough, that’s not going to happen.”
Walking through the flat, deserted streets of Weeping Water, next to a silent Michael, Nakano kept wondering when something would happen. He was ready for anything, good or bad, just to replace the boredom he was feeling. He almost cursed himself for agreeing to Brania’s request, not that he really had much of a choice in the matter. Since he didn’t get to Michael before Ronan transformed him, Brania and her father were forced to come up with a Plan B. Nakano was to see to it that Michael remained Ronan’s spurned lover and use that to work against him. As Brania had pointed out while Nakano was still biting into her flesh, it might even turn out to be a better plan. If Michael joined forces with them willingly, Ronan wouldn’t be able to blame them for taking him away; he could only blame himself. Maybe she wasn’t so stupid after all. Still, how much longer was he going to have to walk the desolate streets of this dumbass town with Michael before he got to see some excitement? As they turned a corner that led into Michael’s old high school, he got his wish.
“Howard! I figured you’d come back to say good-bye to your grandma, but I didn’t think you’d have balls enough to bring along your boyfriend.”
Mauro looked pretty much the same, still overweight, his hair could still use a trim, he had a few more pimples around his mouth and on his forehead, but otherwise it was the same loudmouthed jerk Michael remembered. “What’s the problem? Gay cat got your tongue!”
Doubling over with laughter, Mauro didn’t see Michael seethe. He had struggled so hard to make the taunting in his ears stop ringing, make his mind stop replaying the countless incidents he had suffered at the hands of this boy, this stupid, fat boy who stood before him laughing his head off, and with one quick comment, all Michael’s hard work was for naught. He felt it was the first day of third grade on the playground when Mauro decided to single him out from the crowd and degrade him for the next decade, abuse him until he couldn’t take it any longer. Michael thought he had put an end to his hatefulness before he left Two W, but clearly he hadn’t made enough of an impression. He’d have to try harder.
Mauro wasn’t sure if Michael hit him with his knee or his foot, but whichever it was, it hurt. Lying on his back on the grass, Mauro shook his head and got up. He hadn’t had a good fight in weeks and even if Michael had gotten a bit stronger since he left town and even if he had the help of his skinny, fairy boyfriend, he was still no match for Mauro.
“Come on, faggot! I never got a chance to say good-bye,” Mauro shouted. “My way!”
This is more like it, Nakano thought as he crouched down and folded his hands, letting his arms rest on his knees. Michael can test his new vampire skills and I’ll get a show.
When Michael saw Mauro race toward him, it was as if all the anger he felt against Ronan and his grandfather boiled to the surface. Unable to contain his rage any longer and unable to direct it at the people he really wanted to punish, he unleashed it against Mauro. He saw a tooth fly out of his mouth as he punched him in the jaw, and as he watched Mauro careen sideways for a few seconds and then fall onto the grass, he didn’t feel sorry for the boy at all. In fact, he felt quite good.
“Get up!” Michael ordered, but he didn’t recognize the voice; it was deeper, gruffer. “I said get up!”
As he struggled to right himself, Mauro spat on the ground and Michael felt himself get dizzy. Mauro spat again, a mixture of blood and saliva that was absolutely tantalizing. Nakano smelled it too, and he left the sidelines to get closer to the action.
“I lost a tooth,” Mauro whined. “You’re gonna pay for that, faggot!”
Before he could fully stand, Michael kicked him in the stomach so hard that when he hit the ground a few feet away, he continued to roll until he crashed into the fence that surrounded the high school track. Mauro clutched his side and knew that something wasn’t right. This wasn’t the Michael he remembered; he had to get the hell away from him.
He reached up, his fingers struggling to grab on to the cold metal of the fence. When he finally had a solid grip, he pulled himself up so he was kneeling. But before he could pull himself up farther, he heard some dried leaves crunching and knew that Michael and his Jap boyfriend were getting closer. Just let me get over the fence, then maybe I can run to the football shed and lock myself in; there’s a spare key at the end of the bleachers. It was a good plan, but Michael was too quick.
Just as Mauro threw a leg over the fence, Michael grabbed him by the back of the neck. “Where you goin’, fat boy?” He flicked his wrist and Mauro flew backward, landing at Nakano’s feet. When he rolled over, the smell of blood flooded Michael’s throat. Mauro’s mouth was still bleeding and so too was his forehead. Drawn to the scent, Michael found himself on his hands and knees next to Mauro, his fangs exposed, curving over his lips. It had been almost forty-eight hours since he was transformed into a vampire, since the hunger began, and Michael didn’t care about fighting this newfound desire, prolonging the inevitable. He wanted to drink blood. And he wanted to drink it now.
“Who sounds like a girl now?!” Michael asked, his fangs pressing into his lips, making speech a bit difficult. Which was okay since Michael was more interested in feeding than speaking.
Valiantly, Mauro tried to free himself from Michael’s grip, but to no avail. And even if he got away, Nakano was hovering close by, sort of Michael’s tag team partner. “Help me! Somebody help me!”
The anger of a lifetime bleeding out of his body, Michael gripped Mauro by the shoulders and brought his face inches from his own, “Now you know what it feels like to be helpless!” Flung back toward the ground, Mauro’s body bounced twice before lying still, his head conveniently tilting to the side, exposing his sweaty, fleshy neck.
“Go ahead, Michael,” Nakano hissed from behind. “Enjoy your first kill.”
Kill? Is that what he said? This is what I’ve become? Michael thought. Not only a vampire, but a murderer too? Looking into Mauro’s eyes, he couldn’t find one reason to offer him a reprieve, to extend to him any compassion, but he couldn’t find one reason to kill him either. And so he let him go.
“Get out of here,” Michael muttered. “Go! Before I change my mind.”
Unsure if this was a trick like the kind he used to play on him, Mauro hesitated until he saw Michael staring blankly ahead, his face back to the way it was. He had absolutely no idea what kind of game he was playing, what kind of sick game he had learned at that new school of his, but he wasn’t going to wait to find out. Scrambling to his feet, Mauro stumbled off toward the school, one quick look back to make sure no one was chasing him, and then he was off as fast as his shaking legs could run.
“Are you out of your mind!?” Nakano screamed.
“I’m not a killer,” Michael said.
They’re always so sanctimonious in the beginning, Nakano thought. “Oh, really? Guess again!”
When Michael turned around, Nakano was nowhere to be found. In the shadow of Two W, he was once again consumed by a feeling of lonesomeness. But the feeling wasn’t long-lasting because within a matter of seconds Nakano returned, dragging Mauro by the arm, his body scraping the ground. When the boy landed at Michael’s feet, he saw the bloody gash on his neck and knew that he had about ten more seconds to live.
“Now eat,” Nakano ordered. “Before your dinner gets cold.”
Half a world away, Edwige felt the same way Michael did at that very moment—horrified. When she had arrived at Vaughan’s door, she noticed it had been left ajar. She thought perhaps that she and Vaughan were psychically connected and he left the door open as an invitation so she wouldn’t feel as if she was intruding. Now, standing in the room, she saw that Vaughan already had a female intruder.
Lying on his couch was Vaughan. Kneeling beside him was Brania. Edwige was repulsed because she knew the blood that dripped from her fangs was most definitely his.
As Michael bent down to shut Mauro’s eyes, he felt the same feeling of revulsion because he simply couldn’t bring himself to suck the blood out of the dead boy’s neck. He had no way of knowing that while he was unable to become a predator, his father had just become prey.
