Slowly the three of them began to move, their bodies floating in a circle as one united group, swirling like the water within the body of The Well. The more Rhoswen spoke, the faster they spun.
“Ronan, The First, and Michael, The Other, you were destined to be together,” she said, her silent voice sounding like an ancient chant. “You are meant to be where you are, you are meant to lead your people to a victorious future, and never doubt your connection or fear that your strength won’t be enough to survive.”
They were spinning so fast now Michael and Ronan could no longer see Rhoswen; she was a blur, red hair, white nightgown mixed in with the blue sky behind her, smeared colors trapped in a never ending circle. Michael lost hold of Ronan’s hand just as Rhoswen’s grip grew stronger, and when she spoke for one final time Michael knew he alone could hear her. “And no matter what happens to Ronan you must never be afraid.”
Back in the stillness of their bed, Michael and Ronan woke up at the same time facing each other, their hands clasped together. Unlike other mornings their first connection wasn’t a kiss, but a memory.
“Rhoswen?” they said jointly.
Quickly nodding their heads, they realized they had just shared the same dream, just been spirited away by the same supernatural guide and given insight into their future. But could the information that had been bestowed upon them be trusted? “I don’t want to put a damper on our dream,” Michael said, “but Phaedra kind of insinuated that Ruby couldn’t be trusted.”
Rolling onto his back, Ronan stared at the ceiling for a few seconds contemplating Michael’s comment. As much as he hated to admit it, his boyfriend’s visions were usually accurate, no matter how much of a downer the takeaway message might be. But if you think about something hard enough, you can usually find a loophole. “But Ruby isn’t really Ruby. She’s Rhoswen,” Ronan reasoned.
Michael scrunched up his face. “I’m sure Phaedra just used her earthly name because she didn’t want to confuse me by calling her Rhoswen, you know, her spirit name, which until now I had never heard of.”
Smiling, Ronan pressed his forehead into Michael’s and gave him a belated good-morning kiss. “I have no idea who this Rhoswen is, but I have a feeling she was telling us the truth,” Ronan whispered in between fits of laughter that brought their bodies even closer together, “which is why I’m so happy you weren’t conceived in the middle of some desert.”
“Speaking of conception,” Michael said, “I betcha thought I forgot again.” It could have been a result of their dream-journey, but Ronan had no idea what Michael was talking about until he exclaimed, “Happy birthday!”
Glancing at the calendar, Ronan saw that it was indeed March 15. What do you know? It was his birthday. “I told you, love, birthdays aren’t a really big deal,” he said.
“Maybe so, but I wanted this one to be special,” Michael replied. “You know, to make up for last year.”
Before Ronan could remind Michael that he wasn’t holding a grudge because Michael forgot his previous birthday, Michael jumped off the bed and pulled out presents from underneath it. “Open this one first,” he said, giving Ronan the larger of the two boxes, the one wrapped in a brown paper bag and twine. “I was going for retro chic,” Michael explained. “But it just turned out looking cheap.”
Ronan had to agree. “Guess it won’t matter if I tear the paper to shreds then,” he said, doing just that. But once he saw what the wrapping was concealing, it didn’t matter how terrible the wrapping was. “Blimey, Michael! I love it!”
And Michael had known he would. It was the complete Oscar Wilde collection, each book bound in black leather and sporting the title of the work in silver lettering on the spine. Making it look even more impressive was the fact that the entire collection was housed in a sterling silver sleeve that made it display-worthy. Jumping off their bed, Ronan shifted some books on his shelf and placed the gift above his desk. “It’s perfect! I can’t wait to reread every one of them,” he said, bounding back to the bed to give Michael a thank you kiss. But Michael wasn’t done bearing gifts.
“Not yet,” Michael replied, handing Ronan a much smaller box that was unwrapped but topped with a little red bow. “There’s a part two.”
Beaming, Ronan began to rethink his long-held belief. Birthdays might lack significance to vampires, but maybe they shouldn’t be a human-specific holiday. After opening his second present, however, Ronan thought that maybe humans were the only ones who could understand them. “I don’t get it,” he said. “This is the ring I gave you for your birthday.”
“Nope, it’s a replica,” Michael explained, waving his left hand in Ronan’s face and showing that he was still wearing his ring on his index finger. “I had one made for you.”
“Two perfect gifts in a row!” Ronan grinned. “It’s beautiful and thoughtful just like you.” This time Michael didn’t interrupt Ronan when he leaned in to kiss him. Ever the romantic, Ronan asked, “Would you put it on my finger?”
Blushing a little, Michael reached for Ronan’s left hand, but Ronan extended his right. “No need for us to be matching ring buddies,” Ronan said with a smile. So much for being Mr. Romance! Slipping the ring onto Ronan’s finger—on his right hand—neither boy was surprised to find that it was the perfect fit, just like their relationship.
And what a perfect start to the day. The only thing that nagged at Michael was Rhoswen’s departing words, her final warning. He didn’t want to dwell on it; he only wanted to celebrate Ronan’s birthday.
But why not combine the two? Yes! The only way to find out the truth about Rhoswen was to find out more about Ruby. What better way to do it than in the guise of a birthday celebration!
“I know how to get to celebrate your birthday
“Sounds exciting, love,” Ronan said. “What’s the plan?”
“We’re going on another double date!”
chapter 23
Two days later and Ronan was still pouting.
“But I haven’t stopped having nightmares from the last double date, love,” he whined, sitting in the bleachers. “Can’t we do something safer? How ’bout an intervention?”
“No can do,” Michael whispered, patting Ronan’s knee. “It’s all set. Tonight, you, me, Fritz, and Ruby are going to the movies.”
It hadn’t even begun and the date already had disaster written all over it. “The movies?”
Michael craned his neck and used his vampire sight to see through the crowd of students in St.
Sebastian’s to find the other couple who was going to join them later on for a night of post-birthday fun, laughter, and of course, secret scrutiny of the spirit-possessed. No luck; he couldn’t find Fritz and Ruby, but he saw Ciaran and Saoirse climbing up the bleachers and waved to them.
“Don’t worry, Ro, we’re not going to see some mindless action movie; I wouldn’t make you sit through that,” Michael said. “I think it’s a romantic comedy. Or a horror film, I can’t remember, but Ruby likes both so we’re good.”
Good? There was nothing good about what Michael was saying, nor did it make any sense. “Ruby is blind, Michael. How can she possibly like the movies?”
For such a smart vampire, Ronan sometimes didn’t understand the ways of the world. “She fills in the pictures with her mind,” Michael said as if he were drawing the most obvious of conclusions.
Moving over to make room for Ciaran and Saoirse, Ronan muttered under his breath, “Whatever the bloody hell she is, she’s one strange bird that one.”
Thanks to his mumbling, Ciaran didn’t catch Ronan’s comment, but since he looked exactly like the brooding, sulking teenager he had been before he met Michael, Ciaran knew he was interrupting some sort of disagreement between the two boys. “Lover’s quarrel?” Ciaran asked.
“Nah,” Michael replied. “Just me being the party planner and Ronan being the party pooper.”
“Still?!” Saoirse cried. “Time comes when we all have to grow up and out of our childish roles, Roney.” As if to illustrate her point, she smoothed out her hair and refastened a chic-looking black-and-topaz-colored Bakelite barrette that she had lifted from one of Edwige’s jewelry boxes when she first came to town. “Look at me,” she said, tossing back her hair. “Annoying little sister has grown into a sophisticated young lady.”
