Unafraid

technically considered part of the weekend. A bit of a stretch—well, an out-and-out lie-but Michael thought it would suffice as an explanation. Turned out his preparation was unnecessary, and no one stopped them as they drove toward the front gate. But just as they were about to cross the metal entrance gate and exit the Archangel campus, they faced another obstacle. “Stop!” Ronan cried out.

As Michael slammed on the brakes, the boys lurched forward and then were flung back into their seats. “What the hell’s wrong?!” Michael asked, not at all happy at the interruption.

“The electronic fence!” Ronan shouted back. “Just because it’s summer doesn’t mean it’s been shut down.”

Seriously? That’s why you made me stop? “That can’t hurt us,” Michael said.

“No, not us, but the car might not survive the shock.”

“Oh yeah,” Michael said dejectedly. “I hadn’t thought about that.” Disappointed, Michael didn’t want to give in, but it looked like he had no choice. “Guess we’ll have to travel the old-fashioned way,” Michael said. “On foot.”

Just as he was about to put the car in reverse and return to the parking lot, Ronan ordered him to stop once again. “I have an idea.” He jumped out of the car, shut the door, and ran to the metal gate.

Silently, Ronan explained his idea to his boyfriend. “I’ll absorb the shock of the electronic current as you drive through the fence.”

Michael’s face lit up. “That’s brilliant!”

“I know,” Ronan said, smiling. “You think up funny little phrases, and I think up smashingly brilliant ideas.”

If Ronan had been sitting next to him, Michael would have kissed him. “That’s why we’re the perfect team,” Michael replied. “Ready?”

Standing to the side of the entrance gate, Ronan grabbed onto the metal pole. “Go for it!”

Michael took his foot off of the brake pedal and placed it on the gas, all the way down until the car zoomed under and past the front gate, untouched by the electronic current. He turned back and saw Ronan, equally unharmed, pumping his fist underneath the twisted metal lettering that spelled out Archangel Academy. They did it; they found a way around yet another hurdle. They were so excited they were acting as if they were going for a joyride instead of in search of a missing person.

Jumping into the front seat, Ronan was beaming. “Take me to London, James.”

Michael kept his eyes looking forward as he drove onto the cobblestone road and away from school.

“You do know that my name is Michael, right?”

Staring out the window as the countryside rolled alongside him, Ronan stifled a laugh. “Just drive.”

Finding a parking spot in front of Edwige’s flat proved to be as effortless as the long drive itself. It was partly due to Michael’s enhanced reflexes and vision and partly due to his growing confidence, he mastered the British highway system and maneuvered the car through city traffic like an expert. If Ronan hadn’t been so anxious he would have told Michael how impressed he was, but after the thrill of their getaway had passed all he could think about was what he was going to say to his mother, how he was going to tell her off for ignoring him all this time. He was going to give her an earful the second after she opened her door.

After the third knock it was apparent he wasn’t going to get the chance. “She isn’t home,” Ronan observed.

Instinctively, Michael took hold of the doorknob and twisted. The door was open. “Are you sure of that, Ro?”

Anxiety, curiosity, fear, all wriggled around inside Ronan’s head and in the pit of his stomach. If her door was open she had to be home and if she was home why didn’t she answer him? Was she that determined to stay out of his life? Was she that angry with him for some unknown reason that she wouldn’t even respond to his call? Or was it simply that she wasn’t home?

They entered the living room, and it was like entering a morgue. The whole apartment in fact was still, quiet, and, after a quick look into every room, Edwige-free. “What the hell is going on?” Ronan asked, fear rising to the surface amongst all the emotions he was experiencing.

“I ... I ...” Michael stuttered, searching for the right thing to say. Then he realized nothing he said was going to sound right. “I don’t know, Ro. It doesn’t make any sense that she’s ignoring you, it doesn’t make any sense that her door’s open, but she isn’t here.”

“It doesn’t make any sense that her painting’s gone.”

Ronan’s comment made Michael look up at the living room wall, and he noticed that it, like the apartment itself, was missing something. “You’re right!” Michael exclaimed. “The painting’s gone!”

The painting that depicted two men in the Atlantic Ocean, their bodies suspended side by side, their skin touching, forever connected, was indeed missing. It was one of Edwige’s most prized possessions and one that she would never part with; it reminded her of Ronan and Michael, of her own heritage, of her species’ future. “Do you think she was robbed?” Michael asked. “Somebody could probably get a lot of money for that thing.”

It was a valid theory, but it was wrong. There hadn’t been a robbery; no one had broken into the apartment to steal that one item. Edwige had taken it with her when she left. Ronan was sure of it.

“She’s gone.”

Michael heard the certainty in Ronan’s voice, but he didn’t understand it. “What do you mean?”

“Look.”

When Michael turned around he saw what Ronan was pointing at. The only thing on the surface of the wooden table that stood next to the window was dust. Gone was the mahogany box that housed Saxon’s ashes and gone too—for the moment anyway—was any hope of finding Edwige. “Wherever she went she has no intention of returning,” Ronan said. “That’s why she took those two things with her.”

Standing next to Ronan, Michael placed his hand in the small of his back so he would know that even though his mother had apparently left him, that she had apparently decided to take a leave of absence from his life, he wasn’t going anywhere. Michael also hoped Ronan knew that he would remain by his side and scour the earth until they found her if that’s what he wished to do.

“Nooooo!!!” Imogene screamed in the middle of her song as if another set of fangs had been plunged into her neck, as if once again the life was being torn from her spirit. “Leave me alone!!”

Climbing into the coffin, Brania took hold of Imogene and cradled her in her arms to try and comfort her, try to calm her down. “Imogene, what’s wrong?” Brania cried.

Cold sweat poured down the sides of Imogene’s face, plastering her jet-black bangs against her forehead. Her body convulsed, turning her skin an even paler shade of white. “It’s Edwige,” Imogene said, choking on the words. “She’s here.”

As she whipped her head around, Brania’s fangs descended over her lips as quick as the flick of a switchblade. Her eyes darted wildly, left, right, left, but she didn’t see anyone else with them in their cave. Since they were safe for the moment, her fangs retracted, and she turned back to her ward. “No, it’s just the two of us.”

Imogene’s body shook more violently as if reacting to the lie. “She’s right in front of me! Can’t you see her!”

Brania held onto Imogene tighter. Whatever the girl was seeing, whatever the girl was going through, she prayed it would pass, because even with all her incredible strength she had no idea how to make it stop. All she could think to do was try and find a way to console her. “Please, Imogene, look at me, look at Mother and everything will be all right.”

Imogene turned her head to face Brania and abruptly her body became motionless. Her expression did change, but not in the way Brania had hoped. Her fear turned to contempt, and words poured out of Imogene’s mouth like daggers into Brania’s heart. “You should suffer for what you did to me! You should burn in hell like the witch that you are!”

What? No, no! Imogene would never speak to me like that, Brania reasoned. She trusts me, she loves me. “Imogene, don’t say that,” Brania cried out desperately. “You can’t mean it.”