Oh what a beautiful sight to watch her father beg, to see him squirm like an anxious child. “All you need to know, Father,” Brania replied, “is that your ex-lover, Edwige, plays an important role in my plan.”
“Edwige!” Ignoring her father, Brania turned to leave, the clicking of her heels echoing through the room. Silence returned only when she reached the door. “When I speak with Rhoswen again, I’ll tell her that you’re waiting for her.”
David didn’t know how much time had passed after Brania left until the strength returned to his legs, but once it did, he rose, shakily, unsteady, and without direction. Brania, Edwige, Rhoswen! He was in a daze, his mind lost in the past, his body wandering in the present. What brought the two together was the sound of Zachariel’s voice. “Control the women in your life or they shall destroy you!”
The harsh, resolute voice was all David needed to hear to propel him into action, allow him to take command of his body once again. The fury traveled like a missile from his toes to his brain, and the book was suddenly hurtling, hurtling, hurtling into the fireplace. Upon impact, the flames erupted like a raging inferno. It crackled like laughter heard within the bowels of an insane asylum; it changed color from orange to yellow to red; it shifted shape from fire to a woman’s face.
Amid the bonfire emerged a specter, the true face of David’s sister Rhoswen appearing the same way she looked the night she had died. “I’ve come home, Dahey,” the face advised, calling David by his Christian name.
He was repulsed by the sight and sound of the past, but unable to look away. David’s skin was almost as white as the apparition. “NO!” he shrieked. “This can’t be. You’re dead!”
The phantom was now a full-bodied image. Rhoswen stepped out of the flames, her body, her hair, her long gown, all white, as she floated toward her brother. “So are you,” she said, smiling impishly, “and that hasn’t stopped you from roaming the planet for centuries.”
Cowering, David clutched at his desk, holding up one hand in front of his face in a futile attempt to shield his eyes from the vision. “What do you want from me?!”
Rhoswen began to retreat back into the flames, her voice growing fainter the closer she got to the fire. “I’ll let the girl, Ruby, explain,” she said. “She’s proven to be an amazing creature and has served me well.” Even after Rhoswen disappeared into the flames, every trace of white consumed by red, she was still able to issue one final warning. “Do not underestimate her like you’ve underestimated me.”
Now that his sister was no longer present, no longer posed a threat, David found his courage. “I killed you once!” he cried. “I’ll kill you again.”
As if in response to his tirade, the flames extinguished, and the room was plunged into almost total darkness, the only light from the full moon outside. It was enough, however, for David to see Rhoswen’s book, unburnt and intact, fly out from the fireplace and land at his feet. The marble rose still white and immaculate and staring up at him like an accusation that simply wouldn’t die.
chapter 19
“I cannot believe my little sister has a boyfriend.”
“And I cannot believe you’re finding that so hard to believe.”
“But she’s only sixteen!”
“And you had already found and lost your soul mate by that age!” Michael shouted, immediately realizing his words if not his tone were rather harsh. “Sorry, Ro, but it had to be said.”
“You’re right, love, it did,” Ronan said, grabbing Michael’s hand. He then gave it a squeeze, playful, but a tad harder than necessary. “But promise me one thing?”
“Sure,” Michael replied, trying not to wince under the pressure. “What is it?”
“For the rest of the night, do not say anything that’ll remind me of Morgandy,” Ronan said. “It’s going to be difficult enough as it is to have fun. No need to make things worse.”
They continued to hold hands as they walked past The Apple Tree, remembering the first time they did so in public. They hadn’t thought about it that first time. They hadn’t been trying to be brave or make some sort of political statement; it had been natural. Their hands had found each other as they walked side by side just as their souls had found each other, even though they lived on opposite sides of the world.
Tiny clumps of snow were now piled onto the bronzed branches and leaves, making the sculpture look as if it were halfway between life and death, just like the boys who passed underneath its shade.
Michael took it as a sign that they belonged there and that it was a perfect night for a double date.
When he turned the corner, he changed his mind.
Stopping abruptly they allowed a stray black cat uninterrupted passage from the empty street into a narrow slither of darkness between two stone-faced buildings. Michael couldn’t see the cat’s face trapped within the black abyss, but he heard its hiss and realized it could be a warning that they should turn around and go home. Ronan took it as confirmation that the nagging ache he had felt in the pit of his stomach during the drive into town had nothing to do with his being an overprotective brother uneager to see his little sister as someone’s girlfriend and everything to do with his gut feeling that the night was not going to end well. “So don’t mention Morgandy,” Ronan said. “And in exchange I’ll make you a promise.”
“What’s that?” Michael asked cautiously as the unseen cat hissed once again.
Smiling, Ronan put his arm around Michael’s shoulder and whispered into his ear. “If tonight goes as I think it will, I promise I won’t say I told you so.”
Eden was rather desolate for a Saturday night. And the town looked even bleaker since it was decorated for the holiday season. Almost every window twinkled with colored lights. Santas, snowmen, and Christmas trees had taken up residence in front of stores and on street corners. But Michael and Ronan were the only spectators, the only witnesses to the elaborate display. Despite the store owners’ efforts, early December had failed to attract many tourists. Or people had just stayed away because they knew it wasn’t going to be a night for celebration.
But then Michael looked across the street and saw that a huge, green wreath hung over the Eden Cafe sign. What could possibly go wrong when everything looked so festive? Glancing down the alleyway that served as a shortcut from the opposite direction to the cafe’s entrance, he found out that decorations were no match for destiny.
“Morgandy?!” Ronan bellowed.
Down at the other end of the alleyway Ronan saw Saoirse walking toward them holding Morgandy’s hand, her smile wilting when she heard the anger in her brother’s voice. It disappeared completely when she saw Ronan and Michael sprint from one end of the alley to the other and stop mere inches in front of them. She expected her brother to be rude, boorish, unhappy to acknowledge that his sister was growing up. She didn’t expect this. She knew that look; she had seen it only a few times before, but it still alarmed her. The way Ronan was looking at Morgandy, Saoirse knew he was resisting the urge to transform into his true image and rip a gaping hole in her boyfriend’s neck with his fangs.
“Is this some kind of bloody joke?!” Ronan barked.
Shock finally segued to embarrassment. “Ronan!” Saoirse seethed. “This is my boyfriend.”
“This is insane!” Ronan roared.
The force of Ronan’s rage scared Michael, and he realized that if he didn’t intervene there would be bloodshed. But what could he possibly say to placate Ronan? What words could possibly diffuse the situation, make it less offensive and, yes, less insane than it truly was? Morgandy was Saoirse’s secret boyfriend? Just what kind of a sick game was this guy playing? Unable to find an appropriate word to utter, Michael simply placed a hand on Ronan’s arm and was grateful that Ronan didn’t flick it away.
It was a good sign; it meant that Ronan hadn’t given in to his primal instinct, he was in control of his emotions, his anger, and was willing to listen to reason. If any reason could be found. Finally, Michael found his voice. “Saoirse,” he said calmly. “Don’t you know who this is?”
Slowly she turned to face Morgandy. She searched his hazel eyes and loose blond curls. He looked so innocent, just a boy on the brink of manhood, but was it all a mask? Could he be harboring secrets that lay just behind that smooth skin and those soft lips that felt so incredibly good when they were pressed against her own? If
