Michael Griffo - Unwelcome

A what?! Michael digested this information, this incredible news. He didn’t understand Ronan’s family history completely, and he acknowledged it was complicated, but he didn’t realize Saoirse’s parents were both vampires when she was born. If that was true, how could she be human? He had never heard of such a thing, never imagined such a thing could be true. It just didn’t make sense. If Saoirse’s parents were vampires, shouldn’t she be some sort of a vampire too? “Does Ronan know about this?” Michael asked.

What a stupid question, Saoirse thought. “Of course he does.” Then she realized how stupid her answer was. Obviously Ronan didn’t fill Michael in on why she was considered to be the special member of not just their family, but of their entire race. “But you know, it’s really not a big deal,” Saoirse lied, trying to backtrack from her initial snide comment.

“Sounds like a pretty big deal to me,” Michael replied, feeling even dumber than before.

Sometimes she wanted to strangle Ronan. He could be an absolute twit when he wanted to be. Couldn’t he see how perfect Michael was? Gorgeous and funny and loyal and exactly the type of boyfriend she hoped she’d find for herself one day, without, you know, being gay, of course. If Michael were her boyfriend, she’d treat him right. She wouldn’t keep any secrets from him, she wouldn’t turn their entire relationship into something shambolic! “I guess it all depends how you look at it,” Saoirse said, shrugging her shoulders. “But I am certain of one thing, I owe you a big fat thank-you.”

“What do you have to thank me for?” Michael asked.

“Not you, silly. Amir.”

Saoirse was so wrapped up in her own daydreams, her own concerns, she didn’t notice the glare that accompanied Amir’s response. “Me?”

“Yes, you,” Saoirse confirmed. “You helped me find out something I never knew about myself.”

His sneer made the shadowlight appear darker. “What would that be?”

“Well, I always knew a water vamp couldn’t transform me,” she explained, fixing the barrette that had come loose in her hair. “Now we all know I’m impervious to the bites of regular vampires as well.” Watching Michael and Amir stare at her as if she were a three-headed alien, Saoirse thought she may have screwed up her vocabulary words. “Impervious does mean resistant, right? Can’t hurt me, can’t make me one of you.”

The questions grew inside Michael’s brain like building blocks, first one, then another. Why didn’t Ronan tell me this? Didn’t he trust me enough? Didn’t he think I should know something so important? It was difficult to think, difficult to stop the confusion, the anger, from distorting his face, difficult to not want to leave Saoirse here on the island by herself and find Ronan to confront him. But he couldn’t do that, not while Amir was still here looking like that, his fangs cutting into his flesh.

Amir had had enough. He couldn’t stand listening to this girl tell him he couldn’t do something, he couldn’t stand seeing her look so nonchalant, as if she weren’t in the presence of a member of a superior race. He knew he had more important things to do, but there was always time to teach a freak a lesson. “If I can’t turn you into a vampire,” Amir fumed, “maybe I can kill you.”

Instinctively, Michael stepped in front of Saoirse. He reached back and felt her hands latch on to his shoulder and arm, she might always try to appear unfazed by danger, blasé, but he knew Amir’s threats, his unpredictable nature, made her afraid. Unfortunately, it didn’t make her quiet. “Kill me?” she cried. “You can’t even clean up your own beastly face!”

Amir felt the warmth spread up from his neck to his forehead. Just who the hell does this arsehole think she’s talking to like that? A breeze erupted around him and he felt the wind sweep by his torn cheek, the one Michael had slashed open, and realized that was what she was talking about. Fine, you want to see me clean up? Watch this.

Extending his tongue, he flicked it to the side and lapped up the gash on his face, delighted to discover that his blood tasted even sweeter than the doctor’s. A few more licks and he felt the wound bubble, felt a tickling where the skin was being reborn. Less than a minute later, his cheek was fully repaired, as bronze-colored and smooth as before Michael attacked him. If the transformation hadn’t been so disgusting, Saoirse would’ve been impressed.

“That is goppin’ foul, Amir!”

His fangs may have been fully extended, but they didn’t prevent Amir from laughing hysterically. “When I’m done with you, I’ll show you what foul really looks like!”

“I seriously doubt that’s something you can do on your own,” Michael declared.

A freak and a fool. Amir smirked. “What if I have backup?”

Whipping around, his arm still protecting Saoirse, Michael was stunned to see Jean-Paul staring at them, his fangs as long and straight as the hair that fell in front of his jet-black eyes. He looked different, he looked menacing, wicked, like Amir. How in the world did Michael ever think he looked sexy?

Gripping Michael’s arm tighter, Saoirse whispered, “Where’s Ronan?”

“I don’t think he’s coming,” Michael whispered in response, praying that no one else could hear him. They couldn’t. They were too busy listening to David.

“Be careful, my son,” David warned. “You only need to lure the child and the water vamp away from the ocean.” Jean-Paul didn’t respond but followed his father’s orders, walking in a circle, clockwise, until he was in front of Amir, at which point he started walking toward Michael, making him and Saoirse react by inching backward and away from him.

Staring into Jean-Paul’s eyes, Michael tried to keep his face a blank mask. He was trying to determine, without giving away his growing sense of apprehension, if he would attack. He had been so nice, no, he had been more than nice. He had acted as if he wanted to be much more than Michael’s friend. Why was he coming at them like this, looking hostile, menacing, like he wanted to harm them, like he wanted to help Amir find out if he could kill Saoirse?

Because he is one of Them, you idiot! It’s like Ronan always said, their kind cannot be trusted, no matter how goodlooking, no matter how friendly and understanding they might be. Michael didn’t have time to berate himself. He had to be prepared, be ready for anything. Dammit, where was Ronan?! It would be so much easier if he was by his side where he was supposed to be. And Phaedra, where was she? She had promised to follow him, help him. There was no way he could protect Saoirse and fight off both Jean-Paul and Amir if it came to that. Luckily, David had other plans.

“Remember your instructions, Amir,” David seethed. “Forget about the girl and find The Well.”

Reluctantly, Amir obeyed, but just as he was about to turn and run into the ocean, he saw two blurred images approach the island, one swoosh of darkness coming from the inland, and a swirl of gray smoke flying in from the sea. When Nakano landed on the beach, Amir wasn’t terribly surprised. Wherever Jean-Paul was, his daft, lovesick boyfriend was never far behind, but when the cloud of smoke hovered over Michael and Saoirse, he was amazed. This wasn’t a natural phenomenon like the eclipse, this was something else, something preternatural, unreal. Amir just had no idea if it was something good or something like him.

As the fog began to twist and descend, Saoirse grabbed Michael even tighter, but Jean-Paul could tell by their expressions that this wasn’t something harmful. They weren’t afraid of what was happening; it was something they expected. “Go!” Jean-Paul shouted. Stunned, Nakano didn’t realize that Jean-Paul was ordering Amir to get on with his mission and find The Well. He thought his boyfriend was screaming at him to leave.