Unwelcome Read Online Free Page A

an athlete now—correction, a star athlete. But wait, no, Mauro couldn’t say anything because Mauro was dead.
    On the other side of the gym, Michael saw Nakano dragging Mauro Dorigo’s nearly lifeless body across the ground, the Weeping Water track in the background, the smell of blood in the air, and he had to shut his eyes tight to wipe out the memory. It wasn’t my fault, he told himself. I let him go; I was going to let him live no matter the consequences. It was him, Nakano. He killed Mauro. I wouldn’t even feed off his blood. I couldn’t, even though I hated, hated, hated him, I couldn’t do that to him. “Are you all right?”
    The memory was gone and Michael was back in St. Sebastian’s Gym, standing next to Ciaran. “You look, pardon the expression, a bit queer,” his former dorm mate said.
    Grateful for the diversion, Michael exhaled, unaware that he had been holding his breath. Forcing a smile, he replied, “Oh yeah, just a bit nervous, I guess, about getting back into practice.”
    Because Ciaran was both very perceptive and fully aware of Michael’s history, he knew he was lying, but because he was also his friend and now an honorary member of his extended family, he didn’t press the issue. “You’ll be fine. Ronan tells me the two of you got in some practice over the break.”
    â€œA little,” Michael admitted. “It was kind of fun, just the two of us here while everyone was away.” It was Michael’s turn to be sensitive. He didn’t rattle on about how enjoyable it was to spend a few weeks alone with his boyfriend when he knew that Ciaran had to spend most of that time in Devil’s Bridge, a small town in Wales with his stepmother and her relatives. Michael had been informed that this step-family was a bizarre clan who practiced alternative medicine and ran their own church and who, in Ronan’s opinion, made water vamps look completely normal in comparison. Michael thought he would get to see Ciaran on Christmas at Edwige’s flat in London, but Ciaran had decided to stay in Wales since his stepmother, though hardly loving and affectionate, was slightly more maternal toward him than Edwige. Since she had spent most of the day lamenting how much she hated the pagan holiday, Michael thought Ciaran made the right decision. Still, he hadn’t realized how much he missed his friend until just now. “But I’m glad everybody’s back.” Michael said. “I’m looking forward to a fun semester.”
    Ciaran glanced over at Ronan, who was chatting with Nakano. “One can only hope. If one happens to be the hopeful type.”
    Michael also saw his boyfriend talking to his ex-boyfriend and was happy to note that he could hardly feel the pangs of jealousy any longer. He had to be honest: They were there, but just barely. “Well, you know me, Ciaran. I’m Mister Hopeful.”
    Yes, you are, Ciaran thought, hopeful and eager and filled with little optimistic rays of sunshine. Ciaran stopped his sarcastic stream of unconsciousness. He liked Michael, he really did, but sometimes it was hard to like the guy who always gets everything he wants. “Well, it looks like all your dreams have come true,” Ciaran said. “So why shouldn’t you expect more of the same?”
    That’s right, Michael told himself, so much good stuff has happened to me so far, in such a short period of time, why shouldn’t I expect my lucky streak to continue? Because all good things must come to an end, he reminded himself. Nothing lasts forever . Michael laughed out loud at his last silent and foolish remark. Not only some things but also some people last forever. Fortunately, Mr. Blakeley blew his whistle at the same time Michael laughed, so he didn’t look like a total fool in front of Ciaran. Not that he had much time to worry about his reaction; within seconds, Blakeley had the