A low roar emerged from the crowd, starting softly, but erupting quickly into whoops of encouragement and support. Blakeley wasn’t the most intelligent teacher at Archangel Academy, but he had the most street smarts. He knew his audience and how to rouse them, and he knew how to provoke a man, especially one as cocky and pompous as David, in a way that could only end with his agreeing to his terms. “A head-to-head race?” David asked rhetorically. “Your best man against mine so to speak?”
Although David punctuated his query with a smile, his intentions were obvious. He was making it clear to Blakeley, if not to the students who were eagerly awaiting their coach’s response, that he understood he was being challenged. It was not something that Blakeley could take back, and no matter how this little exercise ended, David would remember who had been the first to throw down the gauntlet. Blakeley didn’t flinch. He knew what he had done, and even though he knew the rules were changing, there was no way he was going to back down. Not to David, not to anyone. “Absa-bloody-lootely,” he said. “Sir.”
If Michael hadn’t known Morgandy’s history, he might have felt sorry for him. He stood on one end of the pool alone, his hands clasped behind his back, his expression stoic, while on the other end, Ronan was practically lost within the ecstatic crowd that surrounded him. No one had anything against Morgandy personally, but no one questioned their allegiance. Every kid in the gym wanted their team captain to beat this newcomer. Even Nakano.
“This should be another easy win for Ronan,” he said. Michael didn’t detect a trace of sarcasm in his voice, and yet he wasn’t convinced Kano was speaking the truth. There was something in the way Morgandy moved, with equal parts grace and swagger, that made him think Ronan might finally lose a race. Michael, in fact, had almost beaten him a few times, proving that his boyfriend was a powerful swimmer, but not invincible. Plus, Morgandy had been a water vampire for just as long as Ronan, so didn’t that mean he was just as powerful?
“Shake hands,” Blakeley bellowed, interrupting Michael’s train of thought.
Watching Ronan walk toward Morgandy, Michael could tell he was moving reluctantly. He didn’t want to do this, he didn’t want to confront his past in this way, and he definitely didn’t want to shake Morgandy’s hand. But he had no choice, and after a slight hesitation, Ronan felt the flesh he never thought he would feel again. And then he had another flash of memory.
“I’m special you know,” Morgandy informed him. “I’m The Guardian of The Well.”
Humbled, Ronan resisted the urge to kneel. He remembered his parents telling him stories about such children when he was very young, how special they were, how some were born into the position and how others were called to the honor. But Ronan had never met one. And now the boy who he had spent the last several months kissing, falling in love with, was telling him he was part of that elite group. Or maybe not. “Is this another one of your fool jokes, Morgandy?”
Smiling, Morgandy held Ronan’s hands in his. Soft and smooth and hard and rough all at the same time. “No, this is the truth,” Morgandy said, his eyes just as serious as when he had first told Ronan he loved him. “I’m the last of the original Atlantians here on earth, and my place as The Keeper of The Well has been foretold.”
Ronan couldn’t believe what he was hearing. He couldn’t believe Morgandy had never told him this before. But then he realized Morgandy had probably wanted Ronan to fall in love with him without knowledge of his credentials. Not that it would have mattered; Ronan would have fallen in love with him even if he were the child of penniless peasants. “I can’t believe I’ve been snogging with The Guardian of The Well this whole time,” Ronan whispered.
Morgandy bent his head, and a few of his curls fell onto Ronan’s forehead. “I was sworn to secrecy until I knew for certain that you would be my soul mate,” he said. “And now you take your place alongside me. Together we will protect The Well and our people for all eternity.”
Pride surged through Ronan’s body. When he woke up this morning he didn’t think anything could make him happier than the thought of combining his soul with Morgandy’s and offering the new mixture to The Well. But now he was being told that he would be more than just another water vampire; he would be a protector, a guardian. It was almost too much to bear, and he had to hold onto Morgandy’s hands with all his strength so he didn’t faint.
“Hey, are you trying to break my hand?”
When Ronan’s eyes focused he saw that he was standing in the present, and he was indeed squeezing Morgandy’s hand with all his might. “Sorry,” he mumbled awkwardly.
This was surreal. Ronan was trying to keep his expression blank, not indicate to Blakeley, David, or the rest of his teammates that he was not being introduced to Morgandy for the first time, that they shared a past, intimate, painful, and clearly one that wouldn’t stay buried. He looked deep into Morgandy’s eyes to see if he was having the same struggle, but didn’t notice anything peculiar, which actually made sense. Morgandy had known he would be meeting Ronan today; he had had time to prepare, and he wasn’t taken by surprise.
“Men,” Blakeley said. “Take your marks.”
Standing on top of the starting block, Ronan adjusted his goggles, and then his body instinctively took position. He bent forward, crouched his knees, stretched his arms behind him; he looked like he did at the start of every race. But this was no ordinary race. He glanced over at Michael, Ciaran, and Nakano, all huddled together in one group looking befuddled and tense, and he could tell that they knew it as well. The time for thinking, however, was over when he heard the splash and saw Morgandy descend under the water.
Diving in, Ronan had to play catch up and quickly. Already a body length behind Morgandy, Ronan felt the water pushing against him instead of how he typically felt, as if he was one with the current, the water almost separating in front of him to give him an uncluttered path. He could hear the shouting and rooting from above, but now it was a distraction. It didn’t motivate him to swim even faster as it usually did; it reminded him that he was expected to beat the person swimming in the lane next to him, the person he had never thought he would see again, the person he had once loved.
He saw Morgandy a few strokes from the end of the pool and couldn’t believe he was swimming so quickly, so easily, as if this was indeed nothing more than a race. How could that be possible? How could he be so focused with Ronan swimming right next to him? How could he already be flipping and pushing off the side of the pool to start the second lap?
As Morgandy swam in his direction in the other lane, their eyes locked. Ronan’s body froze, and he felt suspended in space and time. He wasn’t present; he was once again lost in the past.
“How could you do this to me?!” Ronan shrieked, clutching the edge of The Well for support. “How could you betray me like this?”
Rolling his eyes, Morgandy leaned against the side of the cave. The webbing in between his fingers still intact, he swirled a rock in his hand, making it spin in circles like a game of roulette. “Me, me, me, me, me,” he said mockingly. “Don’t you ever think of anyone other than yourself?”
Ronan felt his body buckle, and he fell to his knees, his webbed hand sliding down the cold, hard stone of The Well. This could not be happening. Their souls had been united right here in this very place, on this sacred ground, only a month ago, and already his dream had turned into a nightmare.
This person he thought he would share eternity with had revealed himself to be a fraud, a charlatan whose sole purpose was to uncover the location of The Well and bring about the end of their race, the race that Morgandy had been born to protect.
“Morgandy, please, I don’t understand,” Ronan pleaded. “Why would you do such a thing?”
Tossing the rock aside, barely missing the belly of The Well, Morgandy walked toward Ronan and squatted down next to him. He stared at him like a parent would look at an inconsolable child or a hunter at a defenseless animal, moments before slaughter. “Sweet, innocent Ronan,” Morgandy said.
“Don’t you remember what I told you about destiny?”
And like an animal who was about to be killed, Ronan found courage he didn’t know he had.
Springing up, he grabbed Morgandy by the neck and ran until the stone wall prevented him from running any further. He pressed Morgandy’s body into the wall so hard he heard the stones shift, and a light spray of rock dust fell all around them. “Yes!” Ronan cried. “I remember everything you told me about our destiny! You were born to protect The Well, and I was born to live by your side!”
Morgandy’s limp body suddenly came to life. He thrust his arms upward and at the same time kicked his feet into Ronan’s stomach, sending him hurtling across the harsh ground and into the wall on the other side of the
