The Well and the cave where it existed were impenetrable to outsiders. “I don’t think that’s possible, Michael,” Ronan said. “But it doesn’t matter anyway, because we’ll never be separated. Remember, you’re forever mine.”
Even though he continued to speak telepathically, Michael still leaned in close to Ronan, just because he felt like it. “And please remember that I’m also forever beautiful.”
Laughing out loud, Ronan no longer cared who heard them. “I want to do something for you, for both of us really,” he said. “I want to bring you to your real home tonight.”
That works for me. “I wasn’t planning on going anywhere other than our room.”
“No, love,” Ronan said. “I don’t want to sound like some bloke in those cheesy movies you and Phaedra cry over . . .”
“We do not cry!” Michael protested.
“Right! And I understand the bloomin’ appeal of Henry and Kumar,” Ronan cried.
“Harold,” Michael corrected.
“Whatever,” Ronan said. “Home isn’t just a place, it’s where your family is. And like it or not, my family is now yours.”
Thinking about all the members of Ronan’s family, Michael realized there were more good than bad. “I would really like that.”
“Smashing!” Ronan exclaimed. “I think it’s about time that Edwige acted like the mum she is and had us all over for dinner.” Michael tried not to crack up but couldn’t stop himself. “I know, I know, Mum’s hardly a domestic, but that’s okay ’cause most of us don’t eat anyway.”
Michael kept on smiling because he no longer wanted to cry. “Thank you.”
After they left, Lochlan MacCleery was still in shock. Sitting in the high-backed chair behind the couch, he had heard every spoken word Michael and Ronan shared. David Zachary a fifteenth-century monk? And a vampire? It was insane, illogical, and yet the doctor believed it completely. Alistair’s note finally made sense. Evil had come to Archangel Academy, but it didn’t come as some abstract concept; it came in the form of a new headmaster.
If there was any doubt left in Lochlan’s mind, he got all the confirmation he needed when he looked up at the portrait of David Zachary disguised as Brother Dahey. The eyes had turned completely black and at both sides of the mouth hung two very sharp fangs.
chapter 19
Edwige did not like playing hostess; she did not like entertaining people in her flat, even if those people consisted mainly of her children. That’s why when Ronan asked her, as the Glynn-Rowley matriarch, to throw a dinner party, a family gathering, she immediately said no.
But then Ronan pleaded, confessing that he wanted the party to unofficially welcome Michael into the family since he had effectively become an orphan, and Edwige felt guilty. Ordinarily she ignored feelings of guilt, but Michael was Ronan’s chosen life partner, and the recent revelation of his father’s duplicity and evil nature were the result of her own orchestrations, which is why she relented. Giving into guilt and her son didn’t change the fact that she didn’t like company, however, so when she heard Ronan and the others stampede into her home from behind her locked bedroom door, she made them wait.
Hearing her silent order, Roan told the others—Michael, Ciaran, Saoirse, and her dorm mate and new best friend, Phaedra—that Edwige was running late and they should wait for her in the living room. He ad-libbed, saying she wanted them to make themselves comfortable, not realizing how difficult a task that would be. Edwige’s living room, while eliciting admiration from visitors for its tasteful decoration, didn’t provide comfort.
When Ciaran sat in the brown leather side chair, he was surprised to find the seat’s soft cushion didn’t extend to the back of the chair, it was like leaning against plywood. And when he propped his feet up on the small hassock, he realized that the embroidered surface—depicting a scene of a Christopher Columbus Era sailing vessel coming face-to-face with a heretofore unexplored tropical paradise—merely covered a similar hard surface, its purpose ornamental, not utilitarian.
Ronan and Michael were tucked on opposite sides of the cornflower blue velvet settee, sitting hunched forward, their elbows resting on their knees so Saoirse could squeeze in between them while Phaedra sat at the mirrored desk in the clear acrylic Ghost chair, gorgeous to look at, its seamless construction a marvel, but every time she shifted her weight, the back of her thighs stuck to the seat of the chair, making a sucking noise as if someone were peeling an adhesive bandage off of a wound. It made the girl, already nervous being in Edwige’s flat for the first time, even more anxious.
Not that she was the only one who felt uncomfortable. Ronan might not be the host, but he was the ringleader, the reason they were all gathered here, and he was completely aware that it felt more like a group detention than a party. Maybe I jumped the gun, he thought, maybe I pushed too hard? Too late now, you prat, this whole mess is your fault. Wait, maybe if I look like I’m enjoying myself and at ease, it’ll catch on? Smiling at Michael, Ronan was glad to see that his look of happiness was contagious. Too bad Michael was only being polite.
Smile. Don’t let Ronan see that you’re freaking out inside. Michael liked Edwige, but after their unexpected meeting on campus a while ago that left him feeling as if she would become a more hands-on mother-in-law, he hadn’t seen her again. He knew she accepted that her son had a boyfriend; he was just no longer convinced that she believed he was the ideal choice for that role. He hoped this get-together would dispel his fears, but the evening was not getting off to a rousing start.
Meanwhile, Ciaran was shocked that he even got an invitation. “Are you sure she said she wants me to come?” he had asked Ronan when told of the impromptu event.
“Of course,” Ronan assured him. “It’s a family party and you’re family.”
In name only, Ciaran thought. But if Edwige was making an effort, why not attend? It wasn’t like he’d be walking into the lioness’s den alone. He would have backup, right? Glancing at the tense, wary faces around the room, Ciaran had the urge to flee for the more comforting silence of the lab.
Thankfully, Saoirse was able to put an end to the awkward silence. Biting into a piece of a raw baby carrot, she crunched so loudly, everyone thought she’d broken a tooth. “Careful,” Ronan chided. “The tooth fairy doesn’t visit teenagers.”
Dipping the rest of the carrot into the small silver tureen filled with what looked like ranch dressing, Saoirse snipped, “Like you wouldn’t fancy the chance to put on a tutu and slip a few pounds underneath my pillow.” Her comeback was just what the so-called party needed—a reason to laugh.
Ronan, however, was too shocked to join in. “A few pounds for one bloody tooth?”
Spitting the carrot into her hand when she tasted the unexpected flavor of curry, Saoirse replied, “Notice how my brother doesn’t balk at the idea of wearing a tutu.” She grabbed a napkin, wrapping the half-eaten curried carrot in it. “P.S. Food-eating people, the dip is gross.”
“Not as gross as Ronan in a tutu,” Ciaran joked.
Laughing along with the rest of them, Michael felt the need to defend his boyfriend. “I think Ronan’s got the perfect legs for a tutu.”
Saoirse opened her mouth to respond, but before she could utter a sound, Ronan warned her, “Another peep out of you and I’ll make you scarf down that whole bowl.”
Unable to allow her brother to have the last word, Saoirse squealed, “Ooh, I’m scared!” Running behind Ciaran’s chair, she continued her mock cry for help. “Save me, somebody, the big bad vampire’s gonna force-feed me an appetizer!”
This time when the rest of the group cracked up, Ronan joined them, laughing heartily, thrilled to be the brunt of a joke. His laughter grew louder along with that of the others, the cheerful noise drowning out the sound of the string quartet that filled the air, and stopped only when Edwige entered the room from the hallway. “Blimey, Mum!” Saoirse shrieked. “What’ve you gone and done to yourself?”
Smiling stiffly, Edwige sauntered into the center of the room. She knew her daughter wasn’t commenting on
