Unafraid (25 page)
Authors: Michael Griffo
Saoirse's laughter made Morgandy's scowl harden. “Who do you think you're talking to?” she asked. “I know everything there is to know about Them.” Her laughter grew louder, so uncontrollable it interfered with her speech. “I know ... that outside this school and this quaint little town ... those oh-so-powerful vampires have to scurry around like cockroaches afraid of the sun!”
When Morgandy spoke his tone had softened, but his face harbored the same harsh look. “No, Saoirse,” he said. “Let me show you Their true nature.”
Now when Saoirse felt Morgandy's hand on her arm she felt like she was being contaminated; it repulsed her. “Don't touch me!” But for all of her bravado, for all of her strength, she was still a teenage girl who had just witnessed her first love be exposed for the liar he was. “I'm gutted, Morgandy! Do you get that?” she cried, tears finally spilling from her eyes. “Bloody gutted, and it's all your fault!” And when Saoirse hit Morgandy again, this time with a fist to his chest, he hit back, slapping her hard across the face. His action was more than shocking. It proved Saoirse rightâhe was bleedin' stupid.
Acting as one, Michael and Ronan leapt forward, each grabbing an arm, and propelled Morgandy backward, ramming his back into the brick wall of the building across from the café. When Morgandy's face transformed into its vampire countenance, his eyes became so black, so filled with hate, that they actually created light within the dense shadow. “So is this how you girls play?” he hissed, his thin, coarse tongue slapping against a fang. “Two against one.”
Michael and Ronan looked at each other, not surprised to see that their faces had undergone a change as well, and they smiled. They turned to face Morgandy so he could see the full beauty of their fangs, and in unison they responded, “Yes.”
Without giving their opponent a chance to reply, they slammed his back into the brick wall again, this time harder, making some of the bricks wobble and shake. They continued the motion over and over, disregarding Morgandy's demands that they let go of him, hardly feeling his legs kick into their flesh or the bricks bounce off their bodies after they were wrenched from the wall. In sync, Michael and Ronan stopped at the same time, long enough to give Morgandy a false sense of hope, to think that their tirade had ended. When they saw that Morgandy's eyes were once again filled with the determination to fight back, and weren't just glazed over and in pain, they sent him flying in the air behind them. They didn't have to turn around to see the result of their actions. When they heard the crunch of metal they knew they had been successfulâMorgandy's body had crashed into the metal bars that covered a boarded-up window.
Michael and Ronan smiled at each other. They were so far removed from their human form that they weren't bothered by complex emotions. They didn't feel guilty for hurting another creature. They didn't feel anything except delight that they were making Morgandy pay for his duplicity and for striking Saoirse. They never even heard the girl shout for them to stop.
Turning around just as Morgandy was rising to his feet, Michael leapt forward and grabbed his ankle. He swung him around, and Morgandy had to bend forward and hold on to the back of his knee so his head didn't slam into the wall on the first rotation. The second time around, Morgandy had acclimated to the motion, so when he flew past Ronan he reached out his hands to grab him, his fangs chomping at the air in hopes of piercing Ronan's flesh. The third time Michael whipped him around, Saoirse's command was finally heard.
“Enough!”
Obeying, Michael let go of Morgandy's ankle, and he was propelled halfway down the alleyway until gravity was victorious and he landed facedown on the ground. The powerful momentum made Morgandy's body spin wildly on the cobblestone until he smashed into the wall, bouncing against it like a wayward Frisbee, stopping only when movement was no longer an option.
Their desire for revenge, not entirely satiated, but for the moment abated, Michael and Ronan felt their bodies change. When they saw Morgandy stand up and stumble forward, they were looking at him with human eyes, their minds, however, still free from guilt. They had defended Saoirse from an enemy and would do so again. In fact, when Morgandy stood in front of Saoirse they were hoping for another opportunity.
Still off balance, Morgandy held out his hands slightly to steady himself. “I'm sorry,” he said. “I shouldn't have done that.” He shook his head as if to will his features to resume their human appearance, but it was as if his true self was too proud, too determined to remain in control, and he didn't change. The beautiful face Saoirse loved to stare at was nowhere to be found. “I never meant to hurt you,” he said, his voice a rough whisper.
She wasn't frightened by his ugliness, by the deep black sockets that had replaced his eyes, by the thin, parched lips, or the scaly, scarred flesh. Looking at Morgandy now simply made her incredibly sad. “Guess I'll just have to take your word on that.”
Stepping away from Morgandy, away from the darkness, and toward her brother and Michael, she seriously wished for the first time in her life that she were a vampire. Not so she could destroy the boy she used to call her boyfriend, but so she could use her power to get away from him as quickly as possible. “I want someone to take me home.”
Feeling not at all triumphant, but pleased that Saoirse recognized that any kind of relationship with Morgandy was impossible, Ronan put his arm around his sister and led her away from the guy who had broken both their hearts. Her brother's strength felt wonderful. It was comforting, loving, and exactly what she needed. With Ronan by her side, it made turning her back on Morgandy easier than she would have imagined.
And more painful than Morgandy could ever have dreamed.
A guttural cry sprang from Morgandy's throat before his feet even left the ground. “Nooo!!!!” he howled. But before Morgandy reached his targets, Michael was already tackling him in midair and wrestling him to the ground. He allowed the protective instinct to be in full control. It was as if Michael was outside of his body watching it act. He saw himself crouched over Morgandy, pinning him down. He saw his webbed hand cover most all of Morgandy's grotesque face and push down hard so the ground underneath his skull started to crack. He saw a thread of saliva that ran from his top set of teeth to the bottom vibrate as he spoke. “Touch either one of them again, and I will kill you.” It was only when he saw that Morgandy believed he was speaking the truth and not merely issuing an idle threat that Michael saw his body release its hold on Morgandy and rise. When he joined the others Ronan didn't have to say a word; Michael saw the pride and even a little bit of awe flowing from Ronan's eyes. “Go ahead and say it,” Michael allowed, his features back to the way they were when Ronan first laid eyes on him.
Ronan smiled and whispered, “That I told you so?”
“Yup.”
“No, love,” he said. Ronan held Saoirse even closer to him and kissed Michael softly on the lips. “It's just time for us to go.”
Looking around, Michael saw Morgandy was upright. Even though he was stealing glances at them, his head was down and his shoulders hunched. He was one filthy animal that was retreating from a fight, not looking for another. Still Michael needed to stay behind. “I'll catch up with you,” he said. “You two could use some brother-sister time anyway.”
Unsure, Ronan looked down the alley and saw that Morgandy was gone. He didn't completely understand Michael's motives, but he knew he'd be okay on his own. “Don't be long, love. We have to feed.”
Â
“I have to speak with Edwige.”
As much as Vaughan liked seeing his son, he had a large ego, so his first impulse was to tell Michael that he should come back when he had to speak to him as well. Before he could respond, Edwige interrupted. “I'd like to talk to you as well.”
Outnumbered, Vaughan moved to the side and let his son enter his apartment, closing the door behind him. When it was obvious that no one was going to speak until he left the room he made an exit. “If anyone needs me,” Vaughan said unnecessarily, “I'll be in the bedroom.”
The first thing Michael noticed when his father left the room was how much better Edwige looked. He imagined it was because her secret was out, because she was no longer in hiding, no longer had to worry about her children finding out about her new alternative lifestyle. Her hair was still jet black, but it wasn't shaggy like the last time he had seen her; it looked like it had been recently cut and styled. And her makeup was the way Michael remembered, not applied with a heavy hand, but dramatic, and her outfit was worthy of a clotheshorse's wardrobe.
She wore a pair of emerald silk pajamas that were like something Michael had seen an actress who played the rich hostess of a house party in an old movie wear. The top resembled a man's buttoned-down shirt, except that the sleeves grew in width from the elbow to the cuff and flowed with the movement of her arm. In contrast, the pants were more formfitting and cropped at the ankle. Ironically, she had finished off her pajama ensemble with a pair of gold, bejeweled sandals with a heel that Michael thought had to be at least three inches high, maybe four. Guess when you're a short woman you have to create an illusion of height. Sitting next to Edwige, Michael got the sense that that was the only illusion.
“The power of a makeover is remarkable, isn't it?” Edwige commented.
“Well, you do look like your old self,” Michael happily agreed. “We were worried there for a while.”
“I never meant to frighten any of you,” she said, her voice compassionate but strong. “What's the human phrase? I had hit rock bottom.”
“Headfirst, I'd say,” Michael replied.
Laughing at Michael's honesty, Edwige felt comfortable enough to explain her actions more fully. “I had come to loathe myself and my life, Michael. It was a new and ... all-consuming feeling,” she confessed. “I felt as if I needed to be punished, and so I cast your father in the role of my jailer.”
“Did my father keep you here by force?” Michael asked.
“No,” Edwige replied firmly. “I possess that other very human characteristic of free will.”
Surprisingly, Michael was relieved to know that Edwige's seclusion was self-induced and not a result of Vaughan's machinations. Maybe Brania had been right: His father really wasn't that bad after all. Reading his expression, Edwige concurred. “Vaughan is far from perfect,” she said, “but when given the opportunity, he proves himself to be a very good man.”
“I'm glad to hear that,” Michael replied. “And I'm glad to see that you really look happy to be here.”
Edwige didn't hesitate in her response. “I am.” She also didn't hesitate to get to the real reason for Michael's visit, now that the air had been cleared.
“You're here to speak to me about Ronan, aren't you?” Edwige asked, knowing full well the answer.
“How did you know that?”
Relaxing into the couch, Edwige smiled. “Despite my reconnection with your father, the strongest connection that we share is our love for Ronan.”
Michael surprised himself by blushing. When was the truth going to stop making him act like a little boy? Ah well, maybe that was the secret to love; it kept everyone eternally youthful.
“So tell me,” Edwige said. “What could my son possibly have done that would bring you here to the so-called lion's den?”
Taking a deep breath, Michael wasn't really sure how to begin. When he found the words, he realized he needed to whisper so his father didn't overhear. “It's really about Ronan and Saoirse,” Michael started, his words causing Edwige to sit upright. “Morgandy's back.”
As Michael explained the situation and what had just transpired a few blocks away, the color drained from Edwige's face. Her green blouse began to work against her complexion, creating a dull pallor in her cheeks. When Michael stopped talking, Edwige had one simple request. “Keep him away from my children.”
“I plan to,” Michael replied. “But I'm not sure if I can do it alone. Morgandy has David on his side. I may need some help.”
Edwige understood the question; she hoped Michael would understand the response. “For right now my children are better off without me.”
“That isn't true! They need you, Ciaran needs you, and so do I,” Michael implored. “We all wish you could just see that so you wouldn't feel so alone.”
“But she isn't alone,” Vaughan corrected. Silently he had entered the living room, curious as to what his son and his ... well, whatever label he bestowed upon Edwigeâgirlfriend, lover, eternal life partnerâwere talking about or simply because he got bored sitting by himself. When he placed his hand on Edwige's shoulder, she didn't flinch at his touch, but she didn't melt into him, either, the way Michael and Ronan did. She simply remained sitting in the exact same position as if Vaughan wasn't touching her, as if he was somewhere far, far away. “She has me,” Vaughan said.
In spite of Edwige's protestations to the contrary, this was a very odd relationship. Even if Michael could have stayed all night to talk through the pros and cons with them, he knew he still wouldn't understand it. He had other things to do anyway.
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