Finally, it was over. The final note hung in the air for several seconds, and Caitlin looked over and saw Roger slowly open his eyes.
Caleb got up slowly, walked across the stage, down the steps, and back towards them. He stopped a few feet in front of Roger, and looked at him.
Roger took a deep breath, reached up, and wiped a tear from his eye.
“Exactly as I remembered,” Roger said.
He took a deep breath, turned his back, and walked quickly down the hall.
“Follow me,” he said
*
They followed Roger across the creaking wood floors and up an old, winding wood staircase. They reached the mezzanine level, and Caitlin look down, and was taken aback by the beauty of the church from this perspective.
They followed Roger down a hall, through a hidden door, and up yet another circular wooden staircase. They continued to follow as they winded higher and higher. Caitlin had the feeling that no one had been up this high in years.
The staircase ended in a small cupola, all the way at the very top of the church, barely big enough to hold the three of them.
Roger reached over to a part of the wall, and gently pulled at a hidden latch. A secret compartment opened, and he extracted a small, jeweled chest.
He held it gingerly in his hands, looking at it sentimentally.
“I never opened it myself,” he said. “I’ve never even seen it open. And I never thought I would. Until I saw your key.”
He looked directly at Caitlin. It was hot and airless in the small room, and she was beginning to feel claustrophobic. Dizzy. Everything felt so surreal. And it never seemed to end.
“I knew your father well,” he said.
Caitlin’s jaw dropped. She was practically speechless. There were so many questions she wanted to ask, she barely knew where to begin.
“What was he like?” was all she could think of.
“Fine man. A great man. I loved him. He was bigger than all of us, bigger than the race. He’d be proud of you for getting this far,” he said, as he held out the chest with both hands.
Caitlin reached out and inserted the silver key, heart pounding, praying it would fit. It did.
It slid in with a precious click. She turned it gently to the right, and the lid opened.
All three of them leaned over, anxious to see what was inside.
They were shocked by what they found.
TWENTY ONE
“Hey buddy, move out!” came the gruff voice.
Kyle felt himself being kicked, then nudged with a baton.
He opened his eyes.
He was lying on a cold, hard surface, but had no idea where. Sunlight was creeping over the horizon, and it burned his eyes and skin.
“Hey buddy, did you hear me? I said move it!” the cop yelled.
Kyle opened his eyes fully now, and realized he’d been lying on marble. On the cold, marble steps of City Hall. He was outside, at daybreak, lying sprawled out, like a bum. He looked up and saw two uniformed policeman standing over him, poking and prodding him with their batons, smiling at each other.
Kyle tried to remember what happened, how he’d got here. He remembered reporting to Rexius. Then being grabbed, being tied down. Then, the acid. He reached up and felt one side of his face, and it felt normal. Then he reached up and felt the other—and the pain came flooding back. He could feel the contours, the horrible scars, the disfiguration. They had branded him with Ioric acid. A punishment reserved for traitors. He, Kyle, the man who had been loyal to his coven for thousands of years. For one small mistake. It was unthinkable.
Kyle felt the pain welling up on the side of his face, and rage began to well within him.
“Want to bring him in?” one cop asked the other.
“Nah. Too much paperwork. Let’s spare ourselves the aggravation and take care of it ourselves.”
One of the cops raised his baton, preparing to bring it down hard.
“Hold him up,” he said to the other.
One cop roughly grabbed Kyle by the arm and yanked him to his feet. As he did, the other side of Kyle’s face was revealed, and the cops could see the horrible scarring and disfiguration. They both recoiled at the site.
“Holy shit,” one cop said. “What the hell is that?”
Rage flooded Kyle, and before the cops could react, he snapped to it, grabbing each, with a single hand, by the chest, and raising each high above his head. They were big men, but Kyle was bigger—much bigger—and much, much stronger. He raised each higher and higher, and before they could react, he pulled them back and then brought them together, smashing into each other.
They both collapsed to the steps, and Kyle stepped up and stomped on their heads, killing each of them.
Kyle’s rage continued to well. His own people. They had cast him out like a nobody, like a nothing. After all he had done for them. After he had unleashed the war. All for a small mistake. For that stupid girl. Caitlin. He would make her pay.
But first, he would make his own people pay. No one treated him like that. No one. They might have exiled him, but he didn’t have to accept it. After all, there were still vampires loyal to him. He could be the leader of the coven himself.
As he stood there, quaking with rage, it struck him. A plan. A way to get his revenge. A way to take back control. A way to become supreme leader himself.
He thought of the sword. If he had it, if he could find it before they did, he would have the power. Not them. Then he could come back and destroy them. At least those who had betrayed him. Those who’d been loyal, he’d take in as soldiers.
Yes, there would be bloodshed unlike any they had ever seen. And when he finished taking back control, he’d turn to the humans and finish the war himself. The plague would have done its damage by then, and he, Kyle would be in charge. With that sword, he could rule New York. Then all the councils, and all the covens across the world, would have to answer to him.
Yes, he liked the plan. But if he wanted that sword, he’d have to find that girl. Caitlin. And to find her, he would need help. That Russian boy. The singer. The one she turned. The one who still had her scent in his veins.
Yes. A plan was coming to him.
Kyle turned and ran up the steps of City Hall, tearing off the iron locks with one hand as he kicked in the door. The early morning lobby was empty, and he sprinted across the corridor. He reached the far end, pulled back a hidden latch, and a wall opened up. He hurried down the stone staircase, and into the blackness.
Kyle ran full speed, knowing that he could find himself up against an army, but also knowing that they would never expect him to attack by himself. He also knew that they were preoccupied with the war, and that if he hurried, he might be able to get in just long enough to get what he needed. Especially at daybreak, when many of them were settling in for sleep.
Kyle reached the lower levels and ran with all his speed down the hall, until he found the huge door he was looking for. There was only one guard standing outside it, as he suspected—a young and weaker vampire, only hundreds of years old. Before he could react, Kyle had already struck him cleanly across the jaw, knocking him out cold.
Kyle put his shoulder to the door and knocked it in. He crossed the room, and there he was. That Russian boy. Chained to the wall, hands outstretched, mouth gagged, eyes open wide with fear and terror. They’d had him in there for days, and by now, this boy had been utterly broken. Kyle ran across the room, not wasting time, and tore off his hand and foot chains. The boy reached up and pulled off the duct tape from his mouth and began shouting.
“Who are you? Why am I here? Where are you taking me? Why did—”
Kyle reached up and backhanded him with enough strength to knock him out. Then he slung him over his shoulder and carried him out the room, chains dragging.
He sprinted with him through the empty corridor and up the staircase, and before he knew it, he was out the door, through City Hall, and into the daylight. He ran for all he was worth,
and was pleased to realize that no one was following him.
He relaxed a bit, as he ran. He had what he needed. This boy, with Caitlin’s blood still in his veins, could lead him right to her. And where she was, the sword would follow.
He smiled. It was only a matter of time. Soon he would have the sword.
TWENTY TWO
Caitlin and Caleb flew over miles of dark woods as they crossed Martha’s Vineyard, heading into the late afternoon sun. She marveled at how big the island was. She had imagined it to be a small place, but as she looked down, she realized that it was massive. The Aquinnah cliffs, where they were heading, were on the far corner of the island, all the way on the other side. Even flying at Caleb’s speed, it would take a while.
Caleb didn’t like to fly if other people were around, as he never wanted to draw undue attention to him or to the race. But the island was so deserted this time of year, that he had no qualms about flying them from one side to the other, especially over a patch of woods.
Caitlin’s mind spun as she thought of the whaling church, and of the latest clue they’d found. It was not at all what she’d expected. She had guessed it might be another key. Instead, they’d found a scroll—a brittle, yellowing parchment, and torn in half, right down the middle. It had been obvious, from first glance, that the other half of it was missing, and that without it, the first half would be useless. Half of a riddle. Given its condition, it was amazing it had survived, and she was sure it would not be preserved if it hadn’t been stored inside a narrow, metal, airproof container—one which she now felt bulging snugly in her pocket.
The three of them had scrutinized the cryptic message on the half of the scroll, knowing even as they did that it would be useless. There were words and phrases which were torn down the middle. Fragments. Pieces of a riddle. It read:
The Four Horsemen…
They leave…
Enter a ring…
Meet at…
And find the…
Beside the fourth…
They had guessed again and again, trying to complete the sentences. But try as they did, they could not decipher it without the other half.
They had all felt deflated, and Roger had seemed apologetic. There were no hints, no leads whatsoever as to where the other half of the scroll might be.
So Caitlin and Caleb had decided to go to the only other lead they had: the Aquinnah Cliffs. Her dream.
Caitlin struggled to remember the dream, and it already felt distant, hazy, as if she’d dreamt it months ago. She started to worry if she’d even dreamt it at all. She didn’t want to let Caleb down, or lead him any deeper on this wild goose chase.
As they turned the bend, the woods below them opened up, and the landscape changed to beautiful, tall grass, swaying in the wind. It was lit up by the late afternoon sun, and glowed a soft red. It was beautiful. Below, she saw a farm, random sheep and cows spread out on the primitive landscape.
Soon Caitlin could smell the salt air, and as they rounded another bend, the landscape shifted to dune grass, then to sand.
Then, the cliffs came into view.
They were breathtaking. Hundreds of feet high, their sand glowed with a mystical red color. Especially in the late afternoon sun, it looked as if these huge cliffs were alive, on fire.
At their base was a soft, sandy ocean beach, littered with rocks of all shapes and sizes. Amidst these were occasional boulders, sitting haphazardly on the sand and out into the crashing waves. They look prehistoric. The entire place like magical, like a beach set on Mars. She couldn’t even fathom that such a place existed.
Rose must have sensed it, too, because she, still tucked into Caitlin’s jacket, peeked out her head and looked, sniffing the salt air.
As they circled the cliffs, slowing, coming in for a landing, something about them struck Caitlin as familiar. She definitely felt as if she had been here before. Yes. This was the place she. More importantly, she seemed to remember being here with her Dad at some point.
She didn’t know if they would find anything, but she felt as if they were exactly where they were meant to be.
The beach was empty, entirely theirs. They set down softly, Caleb gently landing on the sand, and Caitlin let Rose down. Rose ran in the sand, jumped into the water, then ran back to the shore as the water crashed on her.
Caitlin and Caleb smiled.
They walked slowly down the beach, taking it all in. They walked in silence, as Caleb reached out and took her hand.
The beach was dominated by the sound of the crashing waves, and smell of the ocean air. Caitlin closed her eyes and breathed deeply. It felt so refreshing.
Caleb scanned the cliffs, the beach, the rocks. So did she.
“This is definitely the place,” Caitlin said. “I feel like I was here with him.”
Caleb nodded. “It would make sense. This is a very powerful place for our race.”
Caleb looked at him in surprise. “Have you been here before?” she asked.
“Many times,” he answered. “The Aquinnah Cliffs are one of our sacred places, one of the oldest energy fields on earth. The red clay and sand store and discharge ancient energy, which restores us.
“Humans, of course, don’t realize. They have never understood the exact meaning of this place. But we have known for thousands of years. It is a place of power. A mystical place. One created by the ancients.
“It would make sense for your father to bring you here. It is a rite of passage for all vampires. A place where we bring our young, or those who have been turned. Primarily, though, it is a place of love.”
Caitlin looked at him. “Love?” she asked.
“Vampire weddings are very rare,” he continued, “because we cannot procreate, and because committing for eternity is not something we choose lightly. But when two vampires marry, the ceremonies are very elaborate and sacred. They can go one for days. And nearly always, this is the place they happen.”
Caitlin looked around, in awe.
“If we were to come here at night, especially on a full moon,” he said, “you would likely find a vampire wedding ceremony. It is a place of matrimony, as these rocks symbolize eternity. They are among the oldest elements on this planet. It is believed that their energy charges the union with a bond that can never be broken.”
Caitlin felt her heart swell with his words. Although they’d been together a short time, she already felt like she knew him forever. As he spoke of the ceremony, of marriage, she realized that there was nothing she’d like more than to be assured that she could spend the rest of her life with him. It depressed her that her life would end before his, that they were of two different races, that their love was forbidden. That she would be just another memory for him.
She wanted to tell him all this, but she didn’t know what to say, exactly, or how to express herself. And she didn’t know if he felt the same way about her. So she just kept walking, silently.
Everything felt so perfect, just the way it was right now. Why couldn’t things stay this way? She loved this island, this beach. She could see herself staying here, settling here with Caleb. She could see them building a life together, safe from the rest of the world, at peace. Maybe they’d build a small house, high up on the cliffs, overlooking the ocean. They could leave their pasts behind, start over. Was that even possible?
Over the last weeks, Caitlin had felt so out of control of her life. She had felt events happening all around her, felt herself being swept up in everything. But now that things had quieted a bit, now that their trail had seemingly come to a dead end, she wondered if they could stop searching. She wondered if things could actually return to some semblance of normal.
A part of her, deep down, knew that it was impossible. She knew that, no matter what they did, they were both rushing headlong into destiny. Into their fate. And that, very soon, things between them would change forever. It depressed her.
She found herself thinking of Caleb’s piano playing, of how beautiful the musi
c had been. It’s notes rang in her ears.
“I didn’t know you could play the piano,” she said softly.
He sighed. “It’s been many years. I’m afraid I didn’t do the piece justice. You should’ve heard Ludwig play it.”
She looked at him, shocked. “Do you mean Ludwig…as in Beethoven?” she asked, dumbfounded.
He nodded.
“You heard Beethoven play that? Personally?”
“Yes,” he said. “Towards the end of his life.”
She was flabbergasted. It shocked her to consider what he must have seen.
“So, then…you met him?” she asked
“Yes,” Caleb said. “He was a close friend. He was one of us.”
“A vampire?” Caitlin asked, shocked.
Caleb simply nodded.
Caitlin wanted to know more—she wanted to know everything—but she could see that Caleb didn’t want to talk about it. Whatever had happened, it held deep feelings for him.
“It must be so incredible to have met people like that. To remember things like that,” she said.
“Sometimes,” he said. “More often, it’s a burden.”
“Why?”
“After time, memories begin to weigh you down. You get so lost in past events, it becomes hard to live in the present. It’s like a house filled with old things. After a certain point, there’s no room to bring in anything new.”
They walked in silence for several minutes. The sun was beginning to set, and it cast a soft light over everything. The waves crashed, Rose yelped as she ran by their feet, and some passing seagulls screech overhead.
Caitlin looked around, wondering if there was any clue, any trace of her father, anything that she remembered. But she couldn’t find a thing.
She heard a loud noise, and felt a breeze, and suddenly, two white horses raced past them. She turned to look, to see where they had come from, but there was nothing anywhere in sight. Wild horses. They galloped right past them, down the beach, running in the shallow water.
Loved (Book #2 in the Vampire Journals) Page 12
