At the moment, the doctor had nothing scientific to say, nothing that had to do with medicine or logic or reason. All that was on his mind, all he ever found himself thinking about lately, was the fantastical message Alistair had left. Now standing in his office with Ronan, he felt he was finally getting nearer to the bottom of the mystery. “It took you long enough to come around,” MacCleery said, wiping his eyeglasses vigorously with his shirttail. “What finally made you realize I’m not just some crazy old man?”
“I never said I didn’t think you were daft,” Ronan huffed. “I just want to know what you meant when you said there’s evil here at Double A.”
Lochlan felt tremendous relief. Ronan was trying to be evasive, but the doctor could tell he believed him. Finally he could unburden himself, he couldn’t keep the secret any longer; he had spent too many sleepless nights, spent too many days paranoid that he was being watched, scrutinized, singled out. He was desperate for an opportunity to share his information with someone and here it was, it didn’t matter that he didn’t trust Ronan, it didn’t matter that Ronan was a student and one of the people Alistair wanted to protect. He was someone who wanted to know the truth and even if he wasn’t the perfect confidant, he would do. “Here,” MacCleery said, shoving the crumpled note in his face. Intently he watched Ronan read the words and he could see their effect in his eyes. He believed them, he understood they were real. Whatever secrets this kid was hiding, he knew that evil exists. “Do you still think I’m crazy?”
If I told you everything I know, Ronan thought, you’d think I was the one who should be put in the loony bin. “You found this in Hawksbry’s office?”
“Yes, after he disappeared.”
Killed, you mean, but why quibble over semantics? “And you haven’t shown this note to anyone else?” Ronan asked.
“You’re the first.” Enough questions, MacCleery thought, I need answers. “Do you think Alistair was talking about Zachary?”
Staring at the doctor, Ronan truly didn’t know what to do. He didn’t even know why he was here. Joining forces with this man whom he didn’t completely trust, who he knew disliked him, might not be a wise move, but he knew what havoc David was capable of creating, and if Michael’s father was on David’s side, the threat was closer than ever before. He couldn’t ignore the issue any longer. He had to take action. He just wasn’t sure he should act with MacCleery. Until the doctor convinced him.
“I wish I had never read that blasted note,” MacCleery admitted. “But I did and I can’t forget Alistair’s words. I’m a doctor, and doctors make wrong things right again. That’s what I’m trying to do here, but I need your help, Ronan. I can’t fight this . . . this evil if I don’t know where it’s coming from.” Suddenly the doctor was very tired. Awkwardly he reached behind him to find his chair and slumped into it. “I’m not the type of man to ask for help, but that’s what I’m doing now.” He struggled to say the words, words he couldn’t remember the last time he spoke, but he had no choice. He couldn’t continue alone. “Help me.”
Ronan felt something for the doctor he never thought he would feel. Respect. “Yes.”
Startled, Lochlan wasn’t sure he heard him correctly. “Yes . . . yes what?”
“Yes, I think Hawksbry was talking about David Zachary in this note.”
Fighting the fatigue that clutched at his body, Lochlan stood up, weary but hopeful. Now maybe he could make sense of Alistair’s gibberish, now maybe he could protect the children like he wanted him to. But he couldn’t do anything until he first took care of his patient.
Before MacCleery knew who had burst into his office, he ripped the note out of Ronan’s hand and shoved it into his pants pocket. He thought that his movement was swift and unseen, but he was wrong. Amir saw his quick action and the wave of fear crest over the doctor’s face. Whatever was on that paper was a secret and worthy of protection and definitely something worth mentioning to the headmaster.
“He got hit by a car,” Blakeley announced as he and Michael placed Fritz on the examining table.
“It scraped me,” Fritz clarified. “I don’t even think it broke any skin.”
Rushing to Michael’s side, Ronan thought he should be the one on the doctor’s table. He looked a little pale, weak, guilty. “Were you driving, Michael?”
Nodding his head, Michael wanted to explain what had happened, but this was definitely not the time or the place to discuss surprise visits from the dead. “I’ll explain what happened later, but it really wasn’t my fault and nobody was seriously hurt.” Then Michael realized he wasn’t the only one who needed to offer up an explanation. “What are you doing here?” he asked. “Are you all right?”
Lie, tell the truth, Ronan didn’t know what to do. However, when he looked around the room and saw Amir staring at him, he knew he shouldn’t say anything that he wouldn’t want to have repeated. “I’m fine,” Ronan replied. “I’ll tell you the rest later.”
“There’s nothing wrong with the patient,” MacCleery announced.
“Thank God!” When Phaedra ran into the room and saw Fritz lying on his back, the doctor leaning over him, her heart did something strange, it tightened and along with that came a rush of emotion that she was only beginning to understand. These feelings she was having for Fritz were growing stronger every day, and when she got Michael’s text telling her that Fritz was being rushed to the infirmary, her mind immediately filled with despair. She couldn’t help but think the worst, and she dropped everything to rush to his side. So this was what it’s like to be in love? It might prove to be her most difficult task yet.
“Are you okay? Are you hurt? How is he, doctor? He’s going to be fine, isn’t he?”
When MacCleery didn’t respond, Phaedra started to panic. “Are you going to answer me?!”
“I wasn’t sure if you were done asking questions,” the doctor replied calmly.
“I’m sorry,” Phaedra blushed. “I’m just a little scared, I guess.”
Softening at Pheadra’s obvious concern, MacCleery told her there was nothing to be worried about. “Your boyfriend’s going to be just fine.”
Unable to control herself despite the crowd, Phaedra threw her arms around Fritz and kissed him several times, the last one more tender than the others and right on his lips. Fritz was definitely embarrassed, especially when he saw Blakeley fold his arms and scowl, but he was also ecstatic, he finally found a girl who actually made him get embarrassed. Reaching out to grab Phaedra’s hand and make sure everyone saw him do it, Fritz smiled proudly. “Not that I’m complaining,” he said, “but how’d you know that I was here?”
“Michael sent me a text.”
“Thanks, Nebraska,” Fritz said. “I owe you another one.”
Smiling sheepishly, Michael stole a glance at Ronan. No need to thank me, Fritz, he thought. Just make her as happy as Ronan has made me. Unfortunately, the same could not be said for how Michael was about to make Ronan feel.
“Oh, Ronan,” Phaedra said, not letting go of Fritz’s hand, “Saoirse told me to tell you happy birthday.”
Birthday?! Michael felt like he had been punched in the stomach and was being strangled at the same time. He couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t see clearly. How could he have forgotten Ronan’s seventeenth birthday?
“Oh, sorry, mate,” Fritz said. “I forgot today was the day. Happy birthday.”
Hardly happy. “It’s no big deal,” Ronan replied. “Just another day.”
When they walked into their dorm room, Michael still found it difficult to look at Ronan. He didn’t want him to see him cry yet again; he also didn’t want to see Ronan’s disappointment. But he was his boyfriend, the person he loved more than anyone on the planet. How could he forget something so important, how could he hurt him so deeply? He had to say something; he deserved an apology. “Ronan,” Michael started, his tears making it difficult to speak, “I’m sorry.”
One look at Michael, and Ronan knew he was sincere. He knew he felt terrible, which only made Ronan want to ease his pain. “It’s okay, love,” Ronan assured him, hugging him tightly. “Vampires don’t really celebrate birthdays anyway.”
Pushing Ronan away, Michael said, “But boyfriends do.”
He was right, Ronan told himself, he should have remembered. It doesn’t matter that I don’t age, that we’re not going to grow old; it’s still my birthday and it’s a special day, a special day that went uncelebrated, forgotten. But Ronan couldn’t bring himself to yell at Michael. He knew that these past few months had been a difficult transition and he knew that it was all because of him. Michael’s life was complicated now and sometimes unbearable, so if he forgot his birthday, it wasn’t the end of the world or, worse, the end of their relationship. “I’ll be honest. I am a wee bit disappointed,” Ronan said. “But I’m not going to hold it against you.”
