Unafraid

happiness, that it be spared tragedy and pain, for he knew that would be foolish. He simply wished that no matter what surprises and challenges he encountered this year and for all the years to come that he face them directly and not be weakened by fear.

Suddenly, an odd sensation filled Michael’s body; he felt warm and wet at the same time. He opened his eyes and saw that the cathedral’s stained-glass window was gone, and in its place was The Well. Looking into it from this new angle was disconcerting at first, but Michael soon saw the familiar, silvery water ripple slightly and then emerging from it a thin, white light that only stopped when it touched his heart. Overjoyed, he knew his wish had been granted. His heart and his soul were connected to The Well, and no matter how difficult the year ahead was, no matter how challenging his future might be, he wouldn’t have to be afraid.

And what a wonderful change that would be after the tumultuous year he had had, a year filled with events that were still almost incomprehensible. Losing his mother, the horror of learning she had died at his father’s hand, the death of his friend Penry, the disappearances of Imogene and Alistair, the attack on Saoirse’s life and her unexplained survival, the revelation that David longed for the annihilation of the water vampires. He knew it would be a struggle to face each new obstacle with a fearless heart, but knowing The Well supported him, knowing The Well was an ally, would make it easier for Michael to find his own courage.

He continued to walk across campus and proudly surveyed his domain. When he came across the white roses that sprouted from the ground in front of St. Joshua’s he laughed out loud. No matter how strong and how gifted he might be, he still couldn’t decipher their mystery; their truth was just beyond his grasp. Beyond everyone’s grasp for that matter. No one understood why they were always present, always in full bloom season after season, century after century. No one, including Michael, understood their purpose, or if they even had one other than adding beauty to the school. Michael bent down to caress a milk-white petal that was incredibly smooth and thick, and he felt like a child and an adult at the same time. He was filled with wonder by this baffling creation and the knowledge that mystery was merely a part of life. Accepting that some things could never be explained was all a part of becoming an adult. So too was understanding the need to exercise caution.

In the distance he saw the headmaster’s office. It looked like all the other buildings at Double A, and yet Michael knew it was unique. It was where David presided, where he and his dutiful subjects conspired to destroy The Well and wage war against Michael’s kind. He knew that David was a formidable opponent, and he wasn’t naive enough to think that he and his army wouldn’t strike out against them again. However, David’s plans had been thwarted once already, and David had learned that victory would not be easy or achieved without bloodshed, so they had all settled into an uneasy peace. How long that peace would continue Michael had no idea, but he didn’t want to dwell on it, not on his birthday.

The past, however, was strong and tugged on his memory. In the presence of the office he thought of David’s predecessor, Alistair, the headmaster who had welcomed him to Archangel Academy. He hoped that wherever he was, he was at peace. He hoped that was the case as Alistair had offered him kindness and support when he first arrived here, and Michael had never properly thanked him. Sadly, he suspected he would never get the chance.

Walking back toward the heart of campus, Michael thought about the other adults in his life and silently remarked that they were truly a disappointing group. He didn’t care if he ever saw his father again. His grandparents allowed their own limitations to prevent them from ever having a fulfilling relationship with their grandson. And then there was his mother. He understood Grace’s actions and her motives now, he knew that she had fled London to get away from Vaughan in order to prevent him from turning Michael into one of Them, but it still didn’t change the fact that she had kept all her secrets to herself and as a result Michael only got to know his mother after she died. They had closure, but they were never close.

Stop thinking about the past, Michael, he thought. Stop imagining what you might do in the future and pay attention to the present. He took his own advice and looked up to find Ronan staring down at him from their dorm room window. Michael was so overcome with a collection of emotions—joy, pride, love—that it took him several moments to feel the rain. Unlike in his dream or premonition or whatever it was, these were just a few drops falling from the summer clouds onto the earth, onto his and Ronan’s faces, making them glisten the way they did the night they first met. How his life had changed so drastically, so magnificently since that night. Maybe it was time to bury all those thoughts and feelings that had plagued him; maybe it was time to let go of the past; maybe it was time to grow up.

“Happy birthday, love,” Ronan said sweetly. One drop of rain fell from Ronan’s lips and didn’t stop falling until it landed on Michael’s. “Why don’t you get up here so I can give you your gift right proper?”

Half a second later the boys were tumbling onto their bed, their bodies damp with rainwater and anticipation, their quickened breaths and the fumbling of the sheets almost drowning out the sounds of the summer rain shower outside. Almost. No matter how hard Michael tried, no matter how much in love he and Ronan were, the world, for better and for worse, would always be waiting for them.

“What was that?” Michael asked, looking out the window over Ronan’s bare shoulder.

“What was what? ”

“I thought I heard a noise,” Michael clarified. “Sounded like a bird flew by.”

Pushing Michael’s body deeper into the pillows and the mattress, Ronan laughed. “That meadowlark of yours needs to find his own boyfriend. You’re taken.”

“Guess he wanted to wish me a happy birthday too.”

Words quickly gave way to kisses and all thoughts of the lark were forgotten.

It was good that the boys had something to keep them occupied, because if they had inspected the situation further they might have discovered that, while the noise was indeed the sound of wings flapping in the wind, it wasn’t created by the lark.

It was David.

His feathered wings, black as sin, created a sinister silhouette against the pale blue sky as he soared over Double A to test out his newly acquired ability.

And, of course, to spy on the unsuspecting couple.

chapter 2

Even with his eyes closed Michael knew he was being watched. It was a glorious feeling. The sound, however, was not.

“Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you.”

Another one of Ronan’s flaws revealed—he couldn’t sing. His Irish brogue, so melodic when speaking, somehow lost all of its musicality when he tried to sing. Still it was touching to hear words that were so heartfelt and meant only for his ears, touching and, unfortunately, embarrassing as well.

Ronan’s attempt at crooning made Michael remember that he had completely forgotten Ronan’s seventeenth birthday a few months ago. True to his word, Ronan didn’t hold a grudge and seemed to have forgotten about the incident until Michael was compelled to bring it up again.

“Thank you,” Michael said, sealing his words with a kiss. “And next year I promise I won’t forget yours.”

Ronan changed position so they were now lying on their sides facing each other. “I told you, love, it’s not a big deal,” he replied. “Birthdays don’t mean much to vampires or to Atlantians for that matter.”

Tugging on the curls of black hair on Ronan’s chest, Michael whispered, “I know, but I still shouldn’t have forgotten.”

Ronan grabbed Michael’s hand and pulled it away from his chest; he loved the sensation, but he just felt the need to kiss Michael’s fingers. “The concept of age is kind of meaningless to us now,” he explained. “I just know you still enjoy this human tradition.”

His comment made Michael roll his eyes. Yes, Ronan had been a vampire for longer than Michael had, but only by a few years. And yet sometimes when he spoke he sounded downright ancient. “Well, I promise not to forget your birthday,” Michael declared. “Even when we’re 362.”

Ronan traced his cheek with Michael’s fingers. How wonderful it will be to spend 362 years with