Michael Griffo - Unwelcome

“The only trade I’ll make is if you show me The Well,” Amir declared.

Impressive, David thought, the boy might be too anxious for prestige, but he was shrewd.

Ronan was right all along. They are up to something; they want to locate The Well. “That’s impossible,” Michael said. “You can’t get near it, you can’t see it, you’re not a water vamp.”

“And I thank Zachariel every day for that!” Amir screamed. “Show me The Well or I’m killing your boyfriend’s sister!”

Dammit, where was Ronan?! Where was Phaedra? This guy isn’t just a vampire, he’s insane. He thinks he can defy nature and find out where The Well is without having his soul be connected to it. There was no way that was going to happen and there was no way Michael was going to be able to save Saoirse. No, no, don’t think that way, think of everything you’ve accomplished. Yeah, right, and think of everything that’s been taken away from you—your mother, your grandmother, your entire family, your mortality!

“What’s it gonna be, Michael?!”

“Shut up!” Concentrate, Michael, try! You’re not that weak little boy any longer. You’re a water vamp! The first thing Michael felt was the webbing grow between his fingers, then his toes. His face elongated, his eyes narrowed, and when his fangs grew past his lips, they felt sharper than ever. Even though he transformed, even though he was equipped with his preternatural armor, he wasn’t fast enough. Amir wasn’t here to play fair.

When the fangs sunk into her flesh, Saoirse howled. Michael watched in horror as Amir took his hands off her and was only holding on to her by his teeth, digging in deeper, shaking her violently. Michael lunged forward, wrapping his arms around Amir’s waist and tackling him to the ground. He saw Saoirse fall to the side—at least she was free. When he turned back to face Amir, he saw him already up and running toward her. Springing forward, Michael slashed his hand through the air blindly. He felt his nails dig into Amir’s face, ripping away pieces of skin to expose the muscle and bone underneath. His cries of agony were cut short, however, when Saoirse started to glow.

Shrouded in the darkness of the near-eclipse, Michael and Amir watched, fascinated, as Saoirse’s body emitted a bright light, a strong white glow like the one Michael had seen once before in The Well. It radiated her body and lifted her off the beach as if to separate her from the world around her. She was part of the earth, yet detached from it at the same time.

The light was so strong, it hurt his eyes and he had to raise his arm to shield them, but even with compromised vision, he and Amir both were able to see her body levitate. As Saoirse floated in the air, the light that emanated from her body rose above her until it was nothing more than a speck of white amid the darkness. When it had almost fully disappeared, it collapsed onto Saoirse’s neck, at the site of her ripped flesh, burrowed back within her body, and as it did, the wounds healed themselves, the ripped, torn flesh, the blood, all gone. Her skin was as clear and smooth as before.

When Saoirse’s eyes opened, they were her own. When she spoke, the voice was not. “She is not what you think she is.”

“It’s a girl!”

When Edwige heard Saxon speak those words, she was thrilled. After having two boys, she desperately wanted a girl. She wanted a daughter whom she could dress in frilly clothes, play house with, who would cherish her own treasured collection of dolls and stuffed animals. She simply wanted to enjoy an eternity of mother-daughter experiences. The moment Saoirse let out her first cry while being held in her father’s arms on the same sacred ground that housed The Well, Edwige knew her child was a blessing. The moment The Well spoke to her, she knew her child was, in fact, a curse.

“Because you broke your bond of love with your soul mate, because you have defiled the sanctity of The Well and of all the descendants of Atlantis,” the deep, richly textured voice began, “this child is your punishment.”

There were only two points of light in the cave, one rising from the mouth of The Well, the other shrouding Edwige’s face, which was wet with salt water and sweat. The rest of the space was draped in darkness, so Edwige knew Saxon and her daughter were spared the admonition. It was meant only for her to hear. “Your daughter will never belong to you in the purest sense. She will never become a water vampire like her parents,” the voice instructed, “until you atone for your sin.”

Edwige knew exactly what her sin was, but instinct, panic, made her proclaim her innocence. “No! I’ve done nothing wrong!”

The only response was a rippling sound, as if the water within the stone encasement sighed, heaved, causing a small wave to rise and fall against the curved walls. Leaning on her elbows, her legs still bent in the same position as when Saoirse was born, Edwige’s eyes narrowed and emitted a preternatural light that she hoped would break through the darkness and connect directly with her life force. “She is my daughter, created for you, created out of love!”

The ground underneath Edwige shook and she fell backward, clawing her webbed hands into the dirt for support. A wave crashed loudly against the inside of The Well, and the light that shone from it flickered. Edwige tried to find Saxon and their child within the blackness, amid the rumbling, but she couldn’t. She was alone. “I didn’t sin!” she cried out. “I was raped!”

“LIAR!!”

Violently, the earth rumbled and Edwige felt its angry vibrations assault her weary body. The light from The Well intensified, became dazzlingly bright, and grew until it grabbed hold of the light that illuminated her face. Edwige was never closer to The Well and she never wanted to be farther away. “This rape never took place,” the voice bellowed, each word carrying with it wrath and wind. “How dare you claim such a travesty occurred? How dare you compound your sin?”

Blinded by the light, frightened by the severity and the truth of the words, Edwige was frozen, unable to move. She could only repeat the lies she had uttered so many times before, the lies she convinced Saxon and all those who loved her were the truth. “Ciaran’s father raped me,” she declared, her whisper trembling. “He . . . he took me against my will.” Edwige waited for a response, she waited for The Well to reply, to forgive, condemn, anything. But there was only silence. Like a cornered animal staring into the expressionless face of its hunter, Edwige did the only thing she could, she fought back. “I did not break our covenant!!”

It was a wasted attempt. Once again the stream of light uniting Edwige to The Well was broken, the ground stopped shaking, the wind calmed. As the light from The Well receded, the voice was no longer enraged, but quiet, indifferent. “Edwige Glynn-Rowley, you are not what you think you are.” When the cave resumed its normal appearance and the natural light returned, Edwige could see Saxon holding Saoirse, her dimpled legs wiggling in her father’s arms, her blond curls like a flaxen crown, and she was relieved they had safely returned to her side. She was even more relieved that she was still the only one who could hear The Well’s voice when it spoke one final time. “And this child is not what you think she is.”

“Then what the bloody hell are you?!” Amir insisted.

Saoirse was no longer floating. The spell that enabled her to hover in midair had broken and she was standing on the beach, acting as if nothing remarkable had happened, as if she hadn’t just been possessed by a powerful, supernatural force. She acted as if her memory was concealed by the same shadow from the half-dark sun that cloaked her body. Brushing off sand from the back of her jeans, she replied matter-of-factly, “A human born of two vampires.”