leaned over and let her long, blond hair dangle. It was a game they would play constantly while she was living with him. “Your hair is getting longer every day, Rapunzel,” David said.
“Thank you, David the Giant,” Saoirse would reply. “Will you let me escape today?”
Despite his benevolent smile, David would never agree. “The outside world is no place for an enchanted princess.”
Pouting, Saoirse obstinately pressed on. “But, David the Giant, when will I be able to see the world?”
His eyes twinkled more than the girl’s. “When the world discovers why you’re so enchanted?”
Folding her hands on her desk, the Sister straightened her back and released the tension in her shoulders. She didn’t understand why, but whenever she was near David, she became tense, on guard; this tete-a-tete only made the feeling stronger. “How did you know I was interviewing an applicant, Headmaster?”
Because my god is more powerful than yours. “I know everything that concerns the children,” David said. “And may I say, Saoirse, you’ve picked quite an exciting time to join us.”
Saoirse knew why but decided it best to play dumb. “Why?”
As duplicitous as her mother. “We’re preparing to celebrate the upcoming solar eclipse.”
“An odd reason for a celebration,” Edwige stated.
Only for those who are frightened by the dark. “I can’t think of a better reason to be festive,” David replied, “than in honor of the enigmatic nature of Nature.”
He’s as dull and uninspiring as always. The revelation reminded Edwige that she was bored beyond belief. “Are we done here, Sister?”
“No,” she said opening her desk drawer and pulling out a navy blue vest and a small metal box. “Saoirse has one final task to complete before she can officially become a St. Anne’s student.”
“Ah, yes, your little ritual,” David said haughtily. “Which is my cue to exit.” At the door he turned, knowing all three would be watching him. “Ladies, it has been my pleasure.”
After David left, calm was not entirely restored. Saoirse was a bit nervous that her induction into her new school, and therefore her separation from her mother, was not yet complete. “Exactly what kind of task is it?” Saoirse asked.
Sister Mary Elizabeth explained that each new student was required to hand-sew a patch of the Blessed Mother onto her vest, alone and in silence, as a symbolic gesture to their patron saint. “Do I get a few tries if I mess it up?” Saoirse asked.
Laughing at the girl’s honesty, the nun reassured her that the Blessed Mother didn’t judge any of her children by how well they sewed, she loved them all equally and unconditionally simply because of their effort. Acceptance? Being loved unconditionally? No wonder Edwige was hurrying out of the room. “Thanks, Mum, this is going to work out for the best,” Saoirse said, grabbing the vest and sewing kit from the desk. “For all of us.”
Edwige wished she could believe her daughter’s prediction, but when she glanced at the font of holy water and noticed that the liquid had frozen over in an attempt to protect itself from David’s spirit, she knew better. She also knew better than to confront the man, but she needed him to understand a few things.
Standing in the anteroom to his office, the ornate decor already a significant improvement over the nun’s quarters, Edwige hated to admit it, but she felt more in her element. She ignored the fact that she was closer to evil than to good and took solace instead that she felt welcomed in the presence of the angels. Well, almost all of them.
Entering David’s office without knocking, she caught him on the phone, by the sounds of it on a business call that had nothing to do with academia. Waving Edwige to come closer and sit, David continued his conversation until he noticed she was restless. “Sorry,” he said, hanging up the phone. “Even in the more civilized world of education, business never seems to end.”
Holding the sides of the armchair firmly, Edwige kept her gaze on David firm. “Is that the only reason you’ve come here, to conduct business?”
She’s nervous, David thought. That’s unusual for her. “One of the reasons,” he replied. “The other is to be closer to your flesh and blood.”
He’s lying, Edwige realized. How typical of him. “David, old friend, you’re as welcome to my flesh as you ever were, but my blood is off-limits.”
Laughing like the untrusting ex-lovers they were, David and Edwige parried and sparred, tossed a few double entendres into the air, reminisced about the old times they had shared, ignored the veiled and not-so-veiled barbs they threw at one another, until Edwige could no longer make small talk. “I hope your newfound focus on Archangel Academy doesn’t mean you’ve forgotten our truce.”
Remembrance does not equal obligation. “Of course I do,” David said. “I have a wonderful memory.”
“Our species, while separate, were joined in peace,” Edwige stated. “I trust you’ll honor that memory.”
Examining Edwige closer, David changed his earlier opinion, she didn’t look that bad, not for a water vamp anyway, and they had shared some truly passionate moments. It was a shame to have to look into her eyes and lie. Luckily he didn’t have to. When the phone rang, David automatically pressed the speaker button so he wouldn’t have to answer Edwige’s question, they were both surprised when Vaughan’s voice filled the office. “David, I have the factory on the line; we may have a problem.”
Startled, David ripped the phone from its cradle and noticed the way Edwige’s body stiffened; she recognized Vaughan’s voice. That’s all right, just two men conducting business. “If you’ll excuse me, darling,” David said. “Duty calls.”
Walking as slowly as she could, Edwige froze when she heard David speaking Japanese. Her worst fear was confirmed. Vaughan’s factory, their special contact lenses, David’s arrival, all part of a plot against her people. They were more than business colleagues; they were two vampires who were working together in order to attack her race. Willing herself forward, she finally made it into the anteroom and shut the door behind her. Disgusted by her reflection, she could hardly look at herself. Such a stupid woman you’ve become, such a stupid, pitiful woman! Trusting men, allowing them to lie to you, conceal their despicable motives and turn you into a fool! What in bloody hell have I become? What have I allowed these men, these fiends, to turn me into?! Their actions are unacceptable, unforgiveable! Edwige didn’t need to fully understand the connection between David and Vaughan to want revenge. She needed only to know how to make it happen. Sneering at her image, she decided Vaughan would be the first to pay. Leaving the anteroom, she sped like a missile, like a white-hot burst of furious light until she reached her destination, a secluded cave nestled within the bowels of The Forest of No Return.
Throwing back the coffin lid, she told Imogene to shut up and stop singing. “It’s time for you to show Michael the truth about his father.”
chapter 16
When she was alive, Imogene thought free will extended to the afterlife. She assumed that as long as you didn’t go to hell, you could sort of create your own existence, do what made you happy, do all the things you never got a chance to do on earth. When she died, she realized she was wrong.
She was basically a prisoner. She couldn’t roam the world, she couldn’t visit deceased relatives or eavesdrop on old friends to find out what they were saying about her, she could only do what Edwige told her to do. It wasn’t that bad. Edwige only ordered her to do things with Michael and she liked him, so it could be a lot worse, she could be forced to befriend Nakano, whom she totally despised. It was just that she had hoped in death she would reconnect with Penry. What Imogene didn’t realize, what she wasn’t yet able to comprehend, was that while she had been killed, she wasn’t technically dead.
When she was murdered, there was a witness. Brania had watched—her eyes brimming with a mixture of respect and jealousy—as Edwige drained Imogene of her blood. But after Brania left, having grown tired of seeing her nemesis feeding on the prize she felt should have been hers, Edwige let some of that blood rush back into Imogene’s body to keep it from decomposing. She then slashed the palm of her hand with her fangs and allowed some drops of her own preternatural blood to mix in with Imogene’s. That’s when the confusion began.
The vampire-tainted blood that flowed through Imogene’s veins contained some life-altering properties that tricked her body into thinking it was still alive. As long as Imogene’s body didn’t start to decay, her soul clung to its
