stand seeing her look so nonchalant, as if she weren’t in the presence of a member of a superior race. He knew he had more important things to do, but there was always time to teach a freak a lesson. “If I can’t turn you into a vampire,” Amir fumed, “maybe I can kill you.”
Instinctively, Michael stepped in front of Saoirse. He reached back and felt her hands latch on to his shoulder and arm, she might always try to appear unfazed by danger, blase, but he knew Amir’s threats, his unpredictable nature, made her afraid. Unfortunately, it didn’t make her quiet. “Kill me?” she cried. “You can’t even clean up your own beastly face!”
Amir felt the warmth spread up from his neck to his forehead. Just who the hell does this arsehole think she’s talking to like that? A breeze erupted around him and he felt the wind sweep by his torn cheek, the one Michael had slashed open, and realized that was what she was talking about. Fine, you want to see me clean up? Watch this.
Extending his tongue, he flicked it to the side and lapped up the gash on his face, delighted to discover that his blood tasted even sweeter than the doctor’s. A few more licks and he felt the wound bubble, felt a tickling where the skin was being reborn. Less than a minute later, his cheek was fully repaired, as bronze-colored and smooth as before Michael attacked him. If the transformation hadn’t been so disgusting, Saoirse would’ve been impressed.
“That is goppin’ foul, Amir!”
His fangs may have been fully extended, but they didn’t prevent Amir from laughing hysterically. “When I’m done with you, I’ll show you what foul really looks like!”
“I seriously doubt that’s something you can do on your own,” Michael declared.
A freak and a fool. Amir smirked. “What if I have backup?”
Whipping around, his arm still protecting Saoirse, Michael was stunned to see Jean-Paul staring at them, his fangs as long and straight as the hair that fell in front of his jet-black eyes. He looked different, he looked menacing, wicked, like Amir. How in the world did Michael ever think he looked sexy?
Gripping Michael’s arm tighter, Saoirse whispered, “Where’s Ronan?”
“I don’t think he’s coming,” Michael whispered in response, praying that no one else could hear him. They couldn’t. They were too busy listening to David.
“Be careful, my son,” David warned. “You only need to lure the child and the water vamp away from the ocean.” Jean-Paul didn’t respond but followed his father’s orders, walking in a circle, clockwise, until he was in front of Amir, at which point he started walking toward Michael, making him and Saoirse react by inching backward and away from him.
Staring into Jean-Paul’s eyes, Michael tried to keep his face a blank mask. He was trying to determine, without giving away his growing sense of apprehension, if he would attack. He had been so nice, no, he had been more than nice. He had acted as if he wanted to be much more than Michael’s friend. Why was he coming at them like this, looking hostile, menacing, like he wanted to harm them, like he wanted to help Amir find out if he could kill Saoirse?
Because he is one of Them, you idiot! It’s like Ronan always said, their kind cannot be trusted, no matter how goodlooking, no matter how friendly and understanding they might be. Michael didn’t have time to berate himself. He had to be prepared, be ready for anything. Dammit, where was Ronan?! It would be so much easier if he was by his side where he was supposed to be. And Phaedra, where was she? She had promised to follow him, help him. There was no way he could protect Saoirse and fight off both Jean-Paul and Amir if it came to that. Luckily, David had other plans.
“Remember your instructions, Amir,” David seethed. “Forget about the girl and find The Well.”
Reluctantly, Amir obeyed, but just as he was about to turn and run into the ocean, he saw two blurred images approach the island, one swoosh of darkness coming from the inland, and a swirl of gray smoke flying in from the sea. When Nakano landed on the beach, Amir wasn’t terribly surprised. Wherever Jean-Paul was, his daft, lovesick boyfriend was never far behind, but when the cloud of smoke hovered over Michael and Saoirse, he was amazed. This wasn’t a natural phenomenon like the eclipse, this was something else, something preternatural, unreal. Amir just had no idea if it was something good or something like him.
As the fog began to twist and descend, Saoirse grabbed Michael even tighter, but Jean-Paul could tell by their expressions that this wasn’t something harmful. They weren’t afraid of what was happening; it was something they expected. “Go!” Jean-Paul shouted. Stunned, Nakano didn’t realize that Jean-Paul was ordering Amir to get on with his mission and find The Well. He thought his boyfriend was screaming at him to leave.
“No!” Kano shouted back. “I’m not going anywhere without you!” What happened next would make that proclamation a difficult one for Nakano to carry out.
When Michael and Saoirse were almost completely enclosed within the fog, Jean-Paul leapt forward and into the mist. On reflex, Nakano imitated his boyfriend’s actions and sprang toward the gray mass, reaching out his hand to try and latch on to Jean-Paul’s arm. His target, however, proved to be as elusive as the tendrils of smoke that wisped about his face. Using his free hand, Jean-Paul effortlessly pushed Nakano away and saw him fall onto the hard sand a moment before he disappeared completely into the fog. Astonished, Nakano watched the gray cage start to rise off the ground, his eyes averting from the apparition only when he noticed Ronan looking down at him, his fangs bared, his expression filled with contempt. But Nakano didn’t care. Nothing his one-time boyfriend could say or do mattered to him. He had to deal with someone else. And so did Ronan.
Jumping up, Nakano grabbed hold of the fog that was now as hard as stone. Using every ounce of strength he had, he punched, punched, punched at the gray rock, chipping away at its surface, determined to burrow a hole inside. Phaedra had other ideas. Spinning around, slowly at first, the hardened fog soon became a twister and Nakano spun with it, his body horizontal, his grunts, his cries, cutting through the cyclone’s wind. One by one Kano’s fingers slipped and separated from the rock. He tried to dig his fingernails into stone to maintain his hold, but it was no use. Soon he was flying wildly into the almost complete darkness to crash-land about a mile from the shoreline. Ronan would have tried to catch him to break his fall if he hadn’t seen Amir run into the ocean. He didn’t want Nakano to get hurt, but he had to protect The Well. That was, after all, why it had called him here.
“Listen to me carefully, my child,” The Well had said. “Enemies are drawing near and I need your help.”
My help? Ronan felt he had been lifted from a nightmare and placed within the center of a miracle. He had just buried Dr. MacCleery in a clearing in The Forest, buried a man who died simply because he was trying to be a guardian to the students at Double A, and now The Well was seeking his assistance. It was unprecedented and even though he had never heard The Well’s beautiful voice speak to him directly before, he immediately knew that it belonged to his life force. “Anything,” Ronan replied, his voice hushed and filled with humility. “I will do anything to protect you and our people.”
When The Well replied, Ronan could hear the pride in its voice. “I knew I could count on you, Ronan. All of Atlantis can count on your devotion.”
Ronan didn’t need to speak. The Well knew what he was thinking. “Don’t worry, child. Your sister and Michael will be protected.”
Greatly relieved that his commitment to preserve The Well would not result in any harm coming to Michael or Saoirse, Ronan was ready to do whatever was asked of him. After hearing his instructions, he had been confident he would succeed. Now watching Amir swim toward the horizon, he wasn’t so sure.
Sprinting barefooted down the beach, the sand spewing out at his sides, Ronan entered the sea, not even noticing the ice-cold temperature of the water. Without breaking his stride, he dove into the air, his body one long, muscular line, and he remained suspended for a few moments before plunging into the ocean after Amir.
It was then that the moon overtook the sun and the world was plunged into an unnatural darkness.
chapter 23
Michael thought he heard Ronan’s voice. He listened harder. Nothing, no update as to his whereabouts, no reassurance that he was all right, no apology. All he heard was Saoirse’s nervous, rapid breathing behind him and Jean-Paul slowly inhaling, then exhaling, in front. Every few seconds he could feel a hot stream of air float over his face. Several days ago the sensation would have been enticing, tempting, like the desire to reach out and pluck a
