Fated (Book #11 in the Vampire Journals)

by Morgan Rice

  Caitlin opened her eyes, heart thumping, wondering what it was she was she had just experienced. Was it a dream? She had never experienced anything like it. It was like a flashback, like a memory that she never had. She had seen herself as a vampire. In a nation of vampires. An ancient race, a lost race, beneath the earth. She had been their leader.

  Caitlin opened her eyes, terrified. She did not understand was happening to her. Was she just sleep deprived? Or did she have a genuine flashback? She had never daydreamed before. Was it all true? Had she herself once been a vampire? Had she lived in that ancient time and place?

  Caitlin turned the pages and was disappointed to see, as she combed the final pages, no other mention of lost civilizations or the Hall of Records. And yet, on the final page, she noticed something odd: the writing was different from every other page in the book. It didn’t make sense. It was scrambled, backwards, and it wasn’t in Latin. It was in hieroglyphics.

  Caitlin suddenly realized it was a hidden message. Because of her knowledge of ancient languages, her years of deciphering lost codes and rare books, she was able to see a pattern to the letters, a pattern perhaps that others could not. It was a hidden code. There were seven sentences centered perfectly in the page, and none made sense. But Caitlin isolated the middle letter of each sentence, and read it going down, vertically, and a word came in to view:

  V…O…Y…N…I…C…H

  Voynich.

  Caitlin turned the word over and over again in her mind, and then finally, it clicked. The Voynich manuscript. The rarest book on earth, the most controversial and mystical book on earth, rumored to contain secrets never unlocked.

  Caitlin suddenly felt certain that a lost vampire city did exist, that it was beneath the Sphinx, and that the key to discovering the entry would be found in the Voynich manuscript.

  Caitlin sat up, realizing it made perfect sense. The Voynich manuscript was right here on the Yale campus, in another library. It held the key. The key to entering the lost city. The key to finding the cure she needed for Scarlet.

  Caitlin stood, leaving the mound of books where they were, hurried down the metal steps, and strode to the main door, checking her watch. It was just before 6 AM.

  Her heart pounded and she stopped in her tracks as she saw a security guard arrive, put out his hand, and begin to open the door.

  Caitlin quickly hid to the side of the doors, her heart thumping, as he pulled opened the door and came in. Thinking quick, she grabbed a small pencil nearby on the ledge and threw it all the way across the hall. It landed at the far end, echoing.

  The security guard turned, on alert, and began hurrying down the hall after it, away from the open door, deep into the library.

  Caitlin quickly slipped out the open door into the cold morning air, the breaking dawn lighting the sky in shades of orange and red. She pulled her jacket tight as she marched across campus, heading the place she knew housed the Voynich manuscript: the Beinecke Rare Book Library.

  She was just steps away, she knew, from finding Scarlet, and nothing would stop her now.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  Kyle marched up the steps to the local high school, squinting in the sun, not knowing why it was hurting his head so much as he approached the front doors. He felt stronger than ever, yet also pained by the sun, eager to get inside. He bounded up the steps, taking them ten at a time, shocked at his speed and strength. In just three steps, he reached the top, and he stood there before the astonished security guard.

  “Sorry, school’s in session,” the guard snapped. “Are you a parent?”

  Kyle looked him up and down. The guard was a huge man, at least six-five, nearly as wide as Kyle, with a square jaw and a belligerent look on his face.

  Kyle shook his head.

  “Do I look like a parent to you?” Kyle retorted.

  Kyle walked past him, heading for the doors, and he felt a beefy palm on his shoulder, stopping him.

  “Don’t touch that door,” the man said. “You don’t get in without a pass.”

  The guard shoved Kyle, sending him stumbling back a foot, and Kyle, enraged, suddenly lunged forward and tackled the man, driving both of them back through the closed doors.

  The glass doors crashed off their hinges, and Kyle landed on top of the man as they skidded on the floor, on the broken glass, down the wide hallway.

  Kyle looked down at the guard, who was unmoving, and then turned and surveyed the destruction he’d created, the front doors off their hinges, glass everywhere, and the security guard lying there, unconscious.

  “How’s that for a pass?” Kyle asked.

  Kyle stood, brushed off the glass, and began marching down the empty hallway. No one was coming, clearly everyone still in class, and Kyle looked at all the closed doors as he walked past. He turned down one hallway after the next, wondering where Scarlet could be. Before Kyle turned down another hallway, he looked back over his shoulder and saw some people starting to gather around the broken front door, looking down at the guard, puzzled.

  The school bell rang and the halls flooded with kids, hundreds of them, laughing, jostling each other, swarming down the hallways. Everyone was so preoccupied with their friends that no one even seemed to notice Kyle, a huge man, taller than everyone else, dressed head to toe in black leather, covered in bumps and bruises and scars, with a scowl on his face, looking like evil itself walking down the middle of the hallway.

  Kyle scanned the faces, looking everywhere for Scarlet. He needed to find her. He needed answers. He needed to know what she had done to him, why she had bit him, how she was able to overpower him, why his head was hurting so much. And he wanted revenge.

  But no matter how many halls he turned down, how many faces he scanned, there was no sign of her. Kyle used his new super-strong vision, and discovered he was able to zoom in on anything and everything far and wide. It was incredible. He felt like an eagle.

  As he did, Kyle noticed a half-open locker, and he zoomed in on a small picture in it. It was a picture of Scarlet, he was sure of it. He caught a glance of it just as the locker slammed shut.

  Kyle looked to see who had closed it and he saw a girl, looking like a young Jennifer Lopez, standing before it.

  Kyle shoved his way through the crowd, roughly elbowing kids as he made his way toward her.

  “Hey, watch it, man,” one kid, a jock with a varsity letter on his jacket, called out, as Kyle sent him flying, slamming into a locker.

  But Kyle didn’t even look back. He continued marching right for the girl.

  “Excuse me, sir,” came a voice.

  Kyle felt a rough hand grabbing his shirt from the side, and he turned and looked over to see a stern older woman standing there.

  “Who are you? What do you think are doing in these halls? Didn’t you notice that you just bumped a kid? You could have hurt him. Apologize right now, and report to the principal’s office at once!”

  Kyle stared at her, surprised that such an old, frail woman would have the guts to speak to him like that. Then, after a moment, he broke into laughter, a deep guttural sound, as he stared back at her.

  “You remind me of a teacher I had in middle school,” he said. “She was the reason I never went to high school. You’re all the same, aren’t you?”

  “How dare you talk to me that way!” the woman said. “You better go to the principal’s office now, before I call the security guard!”

  Kyle snorted.

  “I don’t think the security guard will be of much help to you now,” he said.

  Kyle stepped forward, grabbed her with two hands, lifted her high overhead. She dangled there, legs kicking, flailing.

  “Put me down at once!” she screamed.

  All the kids stopped and looked, as Kyle leaned back and threw her.

  The teacher went flying down the hall, landing on the slick floor face first, and sliding nearly a hundred feet, like a bowling ball, taking down kids, creating havoc down the hallway. Kyle smiled as he watch
ed her go. He wished he could have done that to every teacher he’d ever known.

  Kyle turned back, annoyed, impatient, and rushed over to the Jennifer Lopez girl with the picture of Scarlet in her locker. As he neared her, the girl stood there frozen, horrified by what he had just done to that teacher. She looked up at Kyle in fear and awe, taking a step back.

  Kyle smiled, relishing her fear, as he glanced at her notebook and saw her name scribbled on it.

  “Maria,” he said aloud, his voice dark, gravelly. “I need you to answer me some questions.”

  Maria, petrified, dropped her books on the floor, mouth open. All the other students around her began to back away, terrified of Kyle, some beginning to run down the halls.

  “Questions?” she said, her voice hoarse. “How do you know me?”

  Kyle grinned and took a step closer.

  “It’s very simple,” he said. “There’s a little game I like to play. It’s called, don’t lie to me and I won’t kill you,” he said, now inches away, leaning into her. He could see her trembling.

  “Please,” she said. “Don’t hurt me.”

  “I want to know about your friend,” Kyle said. “Scarlet. Where is she?”

  Maria’s eyes widened. He could sense her freezing up, debating what to tell him. He could sense she was a loyal friend, not wanting to rush to give an answer, even though her life was obviously at stake.

  “I… don’t know,” she said.

  Kyle stepped closer, grabbed her hair, and yanked it back. She cried out, and he leaned in, even closer, until his teeth grazed her ear.

  “You’re about to lose the game,” he said.

  Maria gulped, sweat running down the side of her neck.

  Finally, she said: “Okay, I’ve seen her. She’s crashing with her best friend.”

  “Now we’re getting somewhere,” Kyle said. “And who is her friend? What’s her name?”

  Maria turned and held his gaze, holding steady, and finally seemed to come to a decision.

  “Her name is Vivian.”

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  Sage flew with Scarlet into the breaking dawn, high over the Hudson, the world spread out before them in shades of purples and pinks, and even though he knew he was dying, Sage felt that everything was perfect in the world. He loved the feel of Scarlet on his back, her arms wrapped around his chest as they flew. He loved that the two of them could enjoy the breaking dawn together, looking down at the river, the trees, and the rolling hills, the entire world alight with fall. The leaves shone a thousand different colors, reds and oranges and yellows, twirling in the wind, falling to the Hudson, lining the waters as they floated down the current, making the river seem alive with a rainbow.

  They flew and flew, following the contours of the Hudson, passing over a bridge, and Sage felt so excited to be with her, and to be bringing her to his great surprise. He could feel her excitement, and it made him all the happier.

  Sage thought back to their time together the night before, the most magical night of his life, knowing it might be his last. Scarlet had fallen asleep in his arms, the two keeping each other warm despite the cold, after talking to each other half the night about their hopes and dreams, about lives they would have led, places they would have visited together. They talked about how amazing it would have been to have been able to spend a lifetime together. He told her how much he loved her a thousand times, knowing that any day might be his last.

  Sage spotted his destination in the distance, and he flew down, lower and lower, as a wide-open clearing appeared on the banks of the Hudson. It was bordered by a historic mansion with sweeping manicured grounds looking over the river. It looked like something out of another century.

  He could hear Scarlet gasp behind him as it all came into view.

  “It’s so beautiful,” Scarlet said. “What is it?”

  Sage grinned.

  “Boscobel,” he said. “One of the last great estates on the Hudson.”

  As they circled high above, Sage saw the long, tree-lined driveway, the sprawling grounds in every direction, and the huge white canopy along the water’s edge.

  “It looks like a theater,” Scarlet said.

  “It is,” he replied.

  Sage chose a well-hidden spot behind the tree line and dove down out of sight of all the people.

  He held her hand as they emerged from the woods and walked the immaculate grounds, heading toward the outdoor theater.

  “A sunrise show,” Sage said. “They do it once a year.”

  “A show?” Scarlet asked, smiling. He could hear the excitement in her voice.

  Sage turned to her and smiled.

  “Your favorite play,” he said. “Romeo and Juliet. They’re performing it outdoors, just like they used to in Shakespeare’s time. They do it right at the edge of the Hudson River, with the sky and the mountains as their backdrop. It is the most powerful thing you’ve ever seen.”

  Scarlet smiled and kissed him, and he kissed her back, delighted to see the happiness in her face. He was thrilled that he would be spending some of his final moments with her, here in this theater, watching this play which he remembered seeing firsthand back in Shakespeare’s time. In some ways, the times had changed so much; in others, they had not changed at all.

  “Thank you,” she said, meaningfully, and he could hear her sorrow lifting.

  They walked through the crowd and entered the theater, having amazing seats in the front row center. All grew quiet as the actors appeared, walking across the grass, and the play began.

  Two households, both alike in dignity,

  In fair Verona, where we lay our scene,

  From ancient grudge break to new mutiny,

  Where civil blood makes civil hands unclean.

  It all came rushing back to Sage. He remembered seeing this play the first time it was performed, back in 1594. He had seen it in the Globe, on the banks of the Thames, standing with all the groundlings, thousands of people crammed in together, watching it. He remembered being mesmerized. And now here he was, 400 years later, and it was still as fresh to him as the first time he’d seen it.

  Scarlet leaned in and held him tight, and he held her. This play of two star-crossed lovers took on a new meaning this time for Sage, a meaning it never had. Knowing he was about to die, every word, every gesture, every motion of the actors felt as if it were just for him. He knew it would be the last time he ever saw the play, and he wanted to cling to each word, each gesture.

  Here they were, two people of different races, she just beginning her immortality, and he, ending his. He had lived for two thousand years, and she would live for two thousand more, and the tragedy was that he had never met her before this moment. Why did he have to meet her as he was dying, as she was about to live?

  All that time, he realized now, all those two thousand years on earth, he had really been searching for her. He had never loved anyone more. And now, at the moment of his death, she was being taken away from him. As if destiny had played some cruel trick on him.

  Sage became lost in the play as the hours passed, seeing flashes of his lifetime before him, feeling himself nearing the end, feeling weaker, knowing he was dying. He was losing himself in the play, losing all sense of time and space as finally, the play neared its end, Romeo dying, Juliet discovering him and ending her monologue:

  What’s here? a cup, closed in my true love’s hand?

  Poison, I see, hath been his timeless end:

  O churl! drunk all, and left no friendly drop

  To help me after? I will kiss thy lips;

  Haply some poison yet doth hang on them,

  To make die with a restorative.

  O happy dagger!

  This is thy sheath;

  there rust, and let me die.

  Juliet stabbed herself, as the audience gasped, and as she did, Sage sat there, mesmerized, and felt as if he had been stabbed himself.

  The curtain fell, and the crowd slowly erupted into applause. Sage
sat there, feeling so numb, so deeply lost in the action of the play, that he had a hard time coming out of it. He forgot for a moment where he was.

  Scarlet turned to him, her eyes wet with tears, and he could see that she was thinking the same thing as he was. To them, this was more than a play. It was also the life they were living, with Sage about to die.

  “I love you, Sage,” she said.

  They stood and embraced and Sage held her tight, not wanting to let her go as all around them people began to filter out.

  Sage thought of all the other places he wanted to take Scarlet, some of the most romantic places in the world. He was determined to show them to her before he died.

  But he was feeling so weak, he did not know if he could make it. He knew he had to recharge if he were to spend more time with her. He just had to get enough strength to get him through another day or two.

  “Sage, you don’t look well,” she said, as she pulled back. “Are you okay?”

  He forced a smile and nodded back weakly.

  “I’m fine,” he said.

  Despite his best efforts, he began to cough, his voice trailing into a whisper.

  “This afternoon,” he said, “at four. Meet me beneath the great willow by the bridge, at the river’s edge. I want to take you somewhere so romantic, so beautiful.”

  A flash of concern crossed Scarlet’s face.

  “Where are you going now?” she asked.

  Sage wanted to tell her that he needed to recharge. But he could not tell her how sick he was. He knew he had to offer some excuse to leave for a bit. He didn’t want her to worry.

  “I have some pressing family business,” he said. “This afternoon, we shall be united, and I will tell you everything.”

  He leaned in and kissed her, and they held the kiss, Sage knowing that tomorrow might be their last day on earth with her, and never wanting to leave her side.

  Yet as they kissed, Sage, try as he did to suppress it, had the sinking feeling that he might not ever see her again.