by Морган Райс
“Sam,” she said, firmly, “he emails you a lot. He’s dying to see you. Just email and ask him. And either way, let’s just go. If he’s not into it, at least we’ll have a cool drive.”
As he thought about it, he found his mind changing once again, and realized that she was entirely right. Of course. Why hadn’t he thought of that? A long drive. Connecticut. E-mailing his Dad. Yes, it was perfect.
He whipped out his cell, logged onto Facebook, and started typing: Dad. I want to come see you now.
I’m actually heading out the door. A couple hours away. Please let me know your address. I hope it’s not too short notice. Love, Sam.
Sam shoved the phone into his pocket, then grabbed his keys and hurried to the front door. She was already waiting outside.
As they crossed the lawn, heading for the BMW, Sam said, “I like your ride.”
She smiled as she held up the keys.
“Thanks,” she said. “I’ve been saving a long time.”
SIXTEEN
As Caitlin and Caleb stood by the railing, looking out at the ocean, the ferry to Martha’s Vineyard blew its horn and began to depart. Caitlin looked down and saw the moving water, and was excited. She loved boats. She felt happy, and free. As she watched the waves rising beneath her, she realized that right now she’d probably be sitting in some stupid class, listening to a teacher drone on. She felt like an adult. Independent. The whole world was hers.
She looked over at Caleb, expecting to see him also happy, and was surprised to see him looking so nervous. She had never seen him like this.
He looked more pale than usual. She wondered if he didn’t like boats, or if maybe he didn’t know how to swim.
She reached over and lay a reassuring hand on his. “You okay?”
He nodded, and swallowed. He clutched the railing, and looked down at the water as if it were his enemy.
“What is it?” she asked.
He swallowed.
“Water,” he said simply. He gripped the railing harder. “Our kind does not like water. Especially crossing it. Most won’t even try.”
Caitlin checked in with herself, and noticed that she felt fine. She wondered if it was because she were not a true vampire.
“Why?” she asked.
“Water acts as a form of psychic protection,” he said. “When you cross a major body of water, you are crossing an energy field. It also strips our senses. It weakens them. It’s harder for us to tell what others are thinking, harder to influence them, harder to sense things. It is like a fresh start. You lose the power and protection you had on the mainland.”
Rose suddenly retreated further inside Caitlin’s jacket. Caitlin could feel her trembling, and it seemed that she, too, was afraid. She reached in and rubbed her head.
She looked away and saw that there were only a few others on the large ferry. There were hardly any people on deck either; it was practically empty. They were lucky it was running at all, given the time of year. The cold March air, along with the mist off the waves, hardly made for the warmest ride.
“Want to go inside?” she asked.
He gripped the railing more tightly, looking out at the water.
“If you wouldn’t mind,” he said finally.
“Of course,” she said, “I’m cold anyway.”
As they walked between the rows of empty seats, they found two adjacent seats by a window.
As Caleb sat, Rose stuck her head out of Caitlin’s jacket and made a soft whining noise.
“I think she’s hungry,” Caitlin said. “What does a baby wolf eat?”
Caleb smiled. “I don’t know. Twizzlers?”
Caitlin smiled back. “I’m going to check out the concession stand. Want anything?”
Caleb shook his head, still looking a bit seasick.
Caitlin headed back, and scanned the rows of chips and candy. She ordered a hot dog for Rose, a Snickers bar for herself, then one for Caleb, too, in case he changed his mind.
As she finished paying, ready to head back, she suddenly stopped. A flyer, pinned to the wall, caught her eye. As she read it, she froze. She could hardly believe what it said.
She tore it off the wall and hurried back down the aisle.
She reached out and held the flyer before Caleb.
He looked at it, then did a double take. His jaw dropped open as he held it up.
It was an advertisement to come see Martha’s Vineyard. And it listed the Vincent House.
SEVENTEEN
Sam sat in the passenger seat of the BMW as they raced down the interstate. He couldn’t believe it. It all felt like a dream. Here he was, in the passenger seat of a new BMW, racing down the highway, leaning back, with a hot girl by his side. And it was her car, and she was driving—stick. She was hot to begin with, but this made her really hot. He felt like he was in some kind of James Bond movie. Things like this just didn’t happen to him. Girls never even talked to him, and the few times he’d tried to pick them up, it hadn’t gone so well.
And things just kept getting better. Not only did she have an awesome house, and a hot pair of wheels, but she, like him, just wanted to take off and go. They both had their windows down, and it was turning out to be a warm, March day. Coldplay came on the radio, and Sam reached over and turned it up. He wondered if she’d turn it back down, or change the station. Instead, she reached over and turned it louder. He couldn’t believe it.
Sam looked out the window, watching the trees raced by, and wondered what it would be like to meet his Dad. He couldn’t believe it was really happening. After all those years of looking for him, he would be seeing him in just a few hours. He could hardly believe that all these years, his Dad had been so close by. Connecticut. Just a drive away.
Sam wondered what he looked like. He was probably a cool dude, tall, unshaven, with longish hair and a motorcycle. Maybe he had tattoos. Maybe even some piercings. He wondered where he lived, what kind of a house it was, what kind of property. He probably lived in an awesome house, like some kind of huge mansion, maybe something right on the water. Maybe he was a retired rock star.
He pictured them driving down a long driveway, lined with trees, and pulling up in front of the door. He could see his Dad opening the door, hurrying out, lighting up when he saw Sam. He saw his Dad embracing him, giving him a huge hug. And apologizing.
I’m so sorry, son. I tried to track you down for all these years. I just could never find you. It’s going to be different now. You’re going to live here.
Sam smiled at the thought of it. He could barely contain his excitement. He wondered if today would be a new beginning. Yes, the more he thought about it, maybe it would. Maybe he just wouldn’t bother going back to Oakville. Maybe he’d just stay, move right in. Finally, he’d have some stability. Someone who actually cared about him, day in and day out. It was going to be awesome.
This would be the first day of his new life.
He looked over and watched Samantha as she drove, her window down, her long, red hair whipped in the wind. She was so hot, so cool. He wondered why she cared about him, about his Dad, about taking him here. He guessed she was just the adventurous type, just like him. Always down for something new.
He wondered if it would be awkward to meet his Dad with her by side. But as he thought about it, he realized it could actually be really cool. It would make him look a lot cooler than he was. Here he was, showing up with a hot chick. His Dad would be impressed. Maybe nod at him in respect.
He wondered where Samantha would go after all this, after he moved in with his Dad. Would she stick around? Would she take off? Of course she would. She’d just bought that house in Oakville. She’d have to go back. Where would that leave the two of them?
Sam bit his lip, suddenly nervous, wondering how it would all play out, what he would do. If his Dad wanted him to move in, he would. But then again, he really wouldn’t want to leave Samantha.
He’d deal with it when the time came. It was all just too much to think ab
out right now. He just really wanted to enjoy the ride, enjoy the moment.
He felt the car growl, and watched Samantha shift to sixth gear, and saw the speedometer hit 110. He was thrilled. He wondered if she’d let him drive, too. He still didn’t have his license, but he had a feeling she wouldn’t care.
He finally summoned the courage to ask.
“Think I can drive?”
Samantha looked over, and broke into a smile. Her teeth were perfect, gleaming.
“Think you can handle it?”
EIGHTEEN
The ferry let Caleb and Caleb off at the dock in Edgartown, a small village in the southeast corner of Martha’s Vineyard. As they walked down the ramp, Caitlin noticed that both Caleb and Rose seemed relieved to be on dry land. Rose peeked her head out, and kept it out, sniffing the air, and taking in the view with great curiosity.
Caitlin held the flyer up once again and stared. She couldn’t believe their luck. It was an advertisement to explore “Historic Martha’s Vineyard,” and there, towards the end of the list of sites, it read: “The Vincent House. Built 1672.”
After seeing it, they had decided to change plans, and to go to the Vincent House first, before the Aquinnah Cliffs. After all, that’s what was engraved on the key, and that was a more concrete lead than the cliffs. Maybe they wouldn’t even need to see the cliffs now. At least now they had a specific place to go. And of course, Caitlin still held the key in her pocket, holding it close. She slipped one hand into her pocket, feeling the worn silver, and felt reassured.
Caleb and Caleb walked down the long dock, which was practically empty. It was as if they had the island to themselves. Despite the time of year, the weather had warmed on their boat trip out. It was now unseasonably warm, at 65 degrees. Caitlin felt herself wanting to get rid of some of her layers of thick clothing.
She looked down, and felt embarrassed that she was still wearing the clothing she had picked up days ago, at that Salvation Army. She desperately wanted some more clothes. But she had no money on her. And she couldn’t ask Caleb.
She looked over and saw Caleb adjusting his collar, apparently also affected by the warmth. It felt like a late spring day, hardly like March. The sun was brilliant, and shining everywhere, bouncing off the water and off of everything.
Caleb suddenly looked at her, and, as if reading her mind, said, “Why don’t we get you some new clothes?” Before she could respond, he added, “Don’t worry. I have a credit card with an unlimited credit line.” He broke into a sheepish smile. “One of the advantages of being around for thousands of years. You amass wealth.”
Caitlin marveled at how he could always read her thoughts. On the one hand, she loved it, but on the other, she worried as to how much he could read, exactly. Was he able to know her deepest thoughts and feelings? She hoped not. But she had a feeling that, even he did, he was able to control how deep he probed, and that he didn’t pry.
“As long as you’re sure it’s not a problem,” Caitlin said tentatively. “And that you’ll let me pay you back one day.”
He took her hand and led her on a walk down the main street of the quaint, historic village.
Despite the beautiful weather, there were hardly any people out—probably, she assumed, because of the time of year. This seemed to be a seasonal place. She felt as if they had the whole town to themselves—and it was the most beautiful place she had ever been.
The village was so clean, so perfectly maintained, and was filled with small, historic houses, each more stunning than the next. It looked like a time set, like they had gone back to the early 1800s.
The town was a quiet masterpiece.
The only thing ruining the illusion were the modern retail shops. She assumed that in the summertime, these were probably all opened and crowded with wealthy people, that this was probably one of those places that she could have never afforded to visit. She marveled at her luck.
She was so happy to be here now, and with Caleb, and on such a beautiful day.
She closed her eyes and breathed in the spring air, and she could almost see herself living here with Caleb, back in time, in another century. A part of her wished that they could just stop running, just settle down here, live a normal life together. But she knew that was not meant to be.
“Should we find the Vincent House?” she asked.
“We will,” he said. “Let’s get you your clothes first.”
He led Caitlin into the one shop that was open. Lily Pulitzer.
The quaint little bell rang as they opened the old door, and the saleswoman seemed thrilled to have customers. She put down her paper and hurried over, and couldn’t have been more gracious.
Caitlin handed Rose to Caleb as she browsed, and the saleswoman was delighted.
“Wow, what a beautiful puppy,” she said, her eyes opening wide. “Is that a husky?”
Caleb smiled. “Something like that,” he said.
Ten minutes later they exited the store, Caitlin dressed in a new outfit from head to toe. She felt like a new person. She looked down at herself and nearly laughed aloud. It was so not her. She had gone from wearing all Salvation Army to being decked out in a series of pastels: lime green jeans, a pink tee-shirt, a light purple, cashmere sweater, and a lime green Kiera coat. It’s not like she had much of a choice: it was the only store open, and it was all that they had left this time of year in her size. The coat hugged her firmly, and had an inner pocket just big enough to hold her journal, which she transferred from her other jacket. For shoes, she’d bought gold, sequined flats. She could have been in a Lily Pulitzer catalog.
Well, if she was going to get caught up in a vampire war, at least she’d be fashionable. And probably the only vampire not wearing black.
She smiled as she recalled the saleswoman’s surprised expression when she’d told her to just throw out all of the clothes she’d wore in. It must not have been every day that a customer said that.
A part of her kind of liked it. It was a whole new her. It certainly wasn’t the wardrobe she’d had in mind in this journey with Caleb. She pictured herself wearing something all black, like him, maybe something leather, with high collars, something Gothic. But that was fine. They were new, and she was so grateful for that.
“Thank you so much, Caleb,” she said, as they walked out the store. She really meant it. She’d never had any guy in her life buy her clothing, much less clothing this nice. And having been so kind and gracious about it. She really felt taken care of, and she was more appreciative than he would ever know.
He smiled and took her hand, as they strolled down the street. She felt so warm in her new clothing, perhaps too warm, but she knew it was an unusually hot day, and that it would be better to be too hot than too cold.
They had asked the saleswoman if she’d heard of The Vincent House and had been happily surprised that she not only knew where it was, but reported that it was only a block away.
As they headed in that direction, for the first time, they were not walking in a mad rush. They strolled, taking their time. In the back of their minds, they both had a feeling that once they got to this house, discovered the next clue, things would heat up again. They were both tired. Neither of them was in a rush to get rolling at a frantic pace again. And neither of them were too eager to find whatever was there. On the one hand, they did. But on the other, they both knew that once they found it—whatever it was, wherever it was—their lives would change irrevocably. And that would probably entail their parting ways.
Caitlin set Rose down and allowed her to walk beside them. She was happy to see that she was well behaved, keeping pace with them and not wandering off. She ran to a small patch of grass to relieve herself, but then ran right back. Caitlin reached down and gave her another small piece of the hotdog, and she ate it happily.
They passed a large, historic church, walked alongside a small, white picket fence, and then turned and entered a walkway that led through immaculately kept grounds. The grass was green and vibr
ant, even this time of year. To one side of them was a magnificent old whaling Church, and to the other was an enormous whaling house from the mid-19th century, with a large veranda in the back. The sign read: “The Daniel Fisher House.” It was the most beautiful house she’d ever seen.
She could happily picture herself living there. Strolling through its backyard, with Caleb holding her hand and Rose by her side, it almost felt like they were home.
They continued down the walkway another hundred yards or so, and eventually it led to a small, historic house, set back from everything. She looked up at the plaque: The Vincent House. 1672.
They both stared at the structure. It wasn’t anything much. A small, low-ceilinged house, it looked like the typical 1600s house, with only a few, tiny windows, and a low roof. It only looked large enough to hold a bedroom or two, and was a modest, wooden structure. Not what Caitlin had expected.
They walked to the front door, and Caleb reached out and tried the knob. Locked.
“Hello?” came a voice. “Can I help you?”
They both turned to see a woman in her 60s, immaculately dressed and wearing a stern expression, approaching them in an official, businesslike manner.
Caleb turned to Caitlin. “This time it’s your turn,” he said. “I want you to use your mind control. You can do it. Vampires have it over humans. Yours is not yet developed, and may not be as strong, but you definitely have some power. Practice on this woman. Influence her. Stay calm, and allow her thoughts to become your thoughts. Allow your thoughts to become hers. Suggest to her what she must do. In her own voice. Your mind can do it all. Just let it.”
The woman, getting closer, called out again, “The house is closed for the season, like the sign says,” she said, very proper. “I’m afraid you’ll have to come back in-season. It’s under restoration, and there are no tours before then.” She looked down at Rose. “And we certainly don’t allow dogs.”
The woman, only feet away, hands on her hips, had a very stern presence, like that of a strict schoolteacher.
