now and that he needed to embrace every opportunity to let Ronan know that he would never leave his side. Michael held Ronan’s hands tighter. He stared at his face until Ronan had no other choice but to return the gaze. When he did, Ronan saw nothing but love in his eyes.
“That must have really hurt,” Michael said.
Nodding slightly, Ronan answered. “Yes, it did.” Ronan caressed Michael’s hands and noticed that they felt stronger than before. They were still incredibly smooth, but as if stone lived under the flesh.
“He was my first love. He was handsome, charming, worldlier than I was.”
Michael couldn’t help but smile. “I know exactly how that feels.”
Blushing, yet alarmed, Ronan hadn’t realized those same words could have been used by Michael to describe Ronan in the early days of their relationship. He had to make him understand that beyond the superficial description, there was no comparison. “But Morgandy didn’t love me like I love you,” Ronan said, his voice so earnest it almost broke Michael’s heart.
“I know,” Michael said. “I didn’t mean to suggest ...” He didn’t want to keep talking, so Michael kissed Ronan, softly, but long enough to make Ronan understand he had not meant to compare him to Morgandy. Ronan was grateful, and one kiss turned into another and then several. It was splendid kissing Ronan on the beach, their bodies drenched in sunlight, but Michael wanted to know what had happened to Morgandy once his duplicity was revealed. Pulling away from Ronan, Michael asked, “So what happened once you found out his real agenda?”
“The Well intervened,” Ronan replied. “It showed Morgandy and every other Atlantian just how powerful It is.”
Michael tried to wait for Ronan to continue, but he couldn’t; he was dying of curiosity. “So what exactly did The Well do?”
“The Well gave us back our souls, and our connection to each other was forever broken.”
Although Ronan spoke the words simply, Michael knew the emotions that surrounded them had to be complex. He must have been heartbroken, Michael realized, devastated that someone he loved could turn against not only him, but his entire race. That’s how Michael would feel if Ronan ever betrayed him. The thought filled Michael up with such despair and fear, he shook his head to unleash it from his mind.
Unfortunately, Michael knew there was more to the story. “So what happened to Morgandy?” he asked. “After, you know, The Well separated the two of you.”
“I don’t know,” Ronan said, shrugging his shoulders, the anxiety finally released from his face. “He was cast out and banished from ever living among water vampires again. Truth is, I don’t even know if he’s still alive.”
Contemplating it for a moment, Michael didn’t think Morgandy’s survival was possible. “How could a water vampire live without being connected to The Well?”
Ronan wanted to feel Michael’s warm embrace, and so he turned him so his back leaned into his chest and wrapped his arms around him. “I don’t think it’s possible, love,” Ronan said. “Along with human blood, it’s the life force that keeps us alive.”
Just when Michael was getting comfortable with the silence and the feeling of Ronan’s heart beating into his own skin, Ronan resumed his story. “Right after that my mum wanted me and Ciaran to go to Archangel Academy together,” he said. “She blamed herself because she was living in France near Saoirse’s school and wasn’t keeping her eye on me. Not that she could’ve seen anything coming.
Everyone thought that my future was set.”
His eyes closed, it looked as if Michael was sleeping in Ronan’s arms, but he had heard every word.
“Because Morgandy was supposed to be this Guardian and you were going to be like the Guardian’s husband?”
Once again their kisses grew in number and passion, and soon Ronan was lying on top of Michael, their bodies moving as fluidly as the ocean. “I’m sorry Morgandy lied to you,” Michael said. “But at the same time I have to give him a big fat thank you wherever he is.”
Ronan understood. “Me too.”
“Otherwise, I might not find myself in this position,” Michael said, grinning widely. “Or this one.”
Unexpectedly, Michael rolled over so Ronan was now pinned against the sand and Michael was lying on top of him.
Looking up, Ronan squinted at the image of Michael’s angelic face, his blond hair almost white as it disappeared into the sun’s glow, the same distinct color as Morgandy’s. No! Ronan was thankful that the glare of the sun obscured his shock from Michael’s view. How could he think that Michael bore any resemblance to Morgandy? They didn’t share any of the same qualities, not in mind, spirit, not even in body. Ronan shut his eyes tight, and when he opened them he saw that Michael looked the same as always. “Forever beautiful, forever mine.”
Michael laid his body flat against Ronan, and they rose and fell in one breath. “Thank you,” Michael whispered. “Thank you for telling me about your past and especially about Morgandy.”
“You’re welcome, love,” Ronan replied. “And I probably don’t have to say this, but you have nothing to fret about. I don’t have any feelings for Morgandy.”
Hmm. Michael needed to be sure Ronan was indeed telling the truth. “You may not love him, but don’t you hate him now?”
Without hesitation, Ronan replied, “Not at all. All my feelings for him, good and bad, died a long time ago. That part of my life is over.”
Michael accepted Ronan’s kisses, but not his words. He knew Ronan believed what he said was the truth, that Morgandy was part of his past, part of every water vampire’s past. But somehow he also knew that was wrong.
chapter 5
Michael hated to admit it, but his father had excellent taste in cars.
The Mercedes Benz SUV was sleek and formidable, like a metal and chrome chariot that had been drenched in crimson blood. The color choice was hardly subtle, but picked to arouse Michael’s senses.
Despite his resistance, it was working. Michael imagined that sitting in the driver’s seat would be like being in the center of a bloodstained cloud. He pictured himself perched high above the ground, gripping the steering wheel and leaning his body into the contours of the black leather seat as he drove into Eden waving to his classmates and strangers. He imagined the look of shock that would appear on R.J.’s face if he ever pulled into the gas station driving this instead of his grandfather’s beat-up Bronco. That would be priceless. Everyone who saw him would be jealous of his luxurious car.
Everyone who saw him would know he was special.
But if someone did see him drive the car, if someone saw him just sitting in it, wouldn’t they really be admiring his father? The first question anyone would ask would be “Where’d you get such an awesome car?” And Michael would be forced to reply, “It was a birthday gift from my dad.”
As he stood in front of the Benz, his hands buried into the front pockets of his shorts so they wouldn’t reach out and feel how insanely smooth and magical he knew the hood of the car had to feel, the rest of the imaginary conversation played out in Michael’s head.
“Your father got you a Benz for your birthday?!” the stranger would say. “Dude, you must have the best dad in the world.”
“Not really,” Michael would tersely reply.
“Come off it,” the stranger would press on. “Do you know how expensive that thing is?”
“He’s just trying to buy my love.”
“C’mon, cut the guy some slack.”
“Should I also cut him some slack for brutally murdering my mother and making everyone think she committed suicide?”
Michael waited for the stranger’s response, but none came. But really, what could anyone say after a
