by Morgan Rice
Her expression. Her response. Her hugging him. He had felt her joy coursing through him, in every pore of his body, and at that moment, he had never felt so right in the world. He knew he had made the perfect decision, and was so looking forward to spending the rest of his life with her.
Sam had awoken this morning with a new bounce in his step. He was determined to celebrate his engagement to Polly, to formally announce the news to everyone later that day, and to make this a beautiful day and night for her. Now, it was their turn.
Sam decided that he’d make it really special: he would go out and hunt himself, personally, for the biggest and fiercest boar he could find. He would bring it back, and they would celebrate with a feast, and a night of drinking and games.
And now, here he was, relaxed and refreshed. He had spent the morning alone, out in the woods, hunting. The hours alone outdoors had provided him a sense of tranquility, and had allowed him time to process everything from the night before, and to enjoy it all again. It had grounded him.
He enjoyed quietly tracking and listening for game.
After hours of searching, of walking quietly, deep in the woods, Sam suddenly heard a twig snap.
He stood perfectly still, and a moment later, the biggest and fiercest boar he had ever seen, its tusks sharp and curled a foot-long, charged right for him. Sam relished the battle.
He waited, then, using his vampire skills, leapt over it at the last second. The boar turned and charged again, and this time, Sam stepped to the side, dodging it, enjoying the sport, taking his time before killing it.
The boar was enraged. It charged Sam again, and this time, Sam jumped on its back, reached down, and prepared to snap its neck.
But it did something which caught him by surprise: the animal managed to spin its head around, and to gorge Sam with its tusk, slicing his arm. Sam, shocked, cried out in pain. He was stunned.
Ever since he had become a vampire, no animal had ever managed to put the slightest scratch on him. Nothing could ever come close to matching his speed or strength. Sam, furious, quickly snapped its neck, and the two of them went tumbling to the ground, the boar dead.
But Sam was shaken. He didn’t understand what had just happened, how it was possible. How could he be even the slightest bit vulnerable?
Thinking it over, he realized that what had just happened was impossible. It must have been a supernatural occurrence. It was the universe, sending him a sign. An omen. But of what?
Sam didn’t like it. It gave him an ominous feeling, a sense of foreboding. He felt as if the universe were hinting that something terrible was happening somewhere. Sam stared at the huge animal, lying there on its side in the grass, dead, and he no longer wanted to bring it back. It felt to him like a reminder of a bad omen.
Sam left it where it was. He slowly backed away from it, wondering.
The sky suddenly darkened, thick clouds gathering on the horizon, and Sam felt a cold breeze brush his face. He turned and headed back down the path, feeling it was time to return.
The more Sam walked, the more he felt it: something was wrong. Worse, he began to feel that something was wrong with Polly. Danger.
Sam broke into at a sprint, then leapt into the air, flying for all he was worth. He broke out of the woods and into open sky, and the more he flew, the more his senses screamed to him that something was very, very wrong. It was like a beacon, calling to him. It practically screamed at him to hurry to the lake.
Sam flew even faster, faster than he even knew was possible, tucking his wings in, diving through the air, until moments later, he was circling over the lake. The lake was still, and as Sam circled it, at first he saw nothing wrong.
But then, as he circled again, he saw a lone figure, lying on a desolate strip of sand. Sam dove down towards it, wondering who it could be.
Sam landed on the sand, several feet from the body, and approached it slowly, his heart pounding. As he reached it, he knelt down.
Hand shaking, he reached out to turn it over. A part of him was in denial, shutting it out—but another part of him, deep down, knew who it was. He sensed her vibration even from here. But he didn’t allow himself to believe it could be true.
He turned her over, and everything good that was left within him died.
It was the woman he loved most in the world.
Polly.
Sam grabbed her and pulled her up, holding her, feeling her limp body in his arms. He shook her, trying to revive her. He looked down and saw she had been stabbed in the heart, and that nearly all of her life’s force had left her. He felt hot tears pouring down his cheek, as he realized that nothing could possibly save her. There was the slightest flutter in one of her eyes, and he could see that she was still clinging to life.
He hugged her tight, crying over her shoulder, hoping, willing her to come back. Sam couldn’t understand how the thing you loved most in the world, at the moment you loved it most, could so suddenly be taken away.
“Sam,” he heard her whisper in his ear.
He pulled back and looked at her; it had been so faint, he wondered if she had even spoke.
He put his ear to her mouth.
“I need to tell you something,” she whispered again.
Sam felt his heart pounding with remorse, grief, regret. Why hadn’t he gotten here sooner? Who could have possibly done this?
But for now, all he wanted was for her to live again. The sight of her like this pained him more than anything he’d ever encountered in his life. He willed for her to come back to him.
“I’m pregnant,” Polly whispered into his ear.
Sam’s eyes opened wide in shock, as he pulled back and looked at her, wondering if it was true.
For the slightest second, a smile crossed her face.
Then, in a flash, it stopped.
Her body went entirely limp, and her eyes opened wide, unblinking.
Sam knew, at that moment, she was dead. He felt it in every pore of his body, as if his own life had just been taken away.
Pregnant. Polly. With his child. Their child.
And now dead.
Both of them.
It was all too much for him to take.
Sam cradled her tight and rocked her, torn apart by anguish, feeling his heart torn to bits.
He leaned back and, fangs extended, roared.
It was a primal roar, one that shook the entire lake, the forest, causing such a vibration that ripples spread across the water and trees shook in their place. It was the sound of a thousand elephants, and it shook the ground itself. As the roar went on and on, it raised the hairs on every beast, on every creature, for a thousand miles.
It was a roar of a creature that had nothing left to live for.
It was a roar of primal fury, of vengeance.
As Sam’s eyes watered over, as everything that he loved in the world died within him, a new filter fell over them. It was a filter of violence and bloodlust and revenge. A new spirit, contained deep within him, was now summoned, unleashed. Sam felt it rise up through every pore of his body.
It was a spirit of supreme, unstoppable rage. Rage so powerful that it wouldn’t discriminate, that it would destroy anything and everything in its path. As Sam snarled, and his eyes turned red, and his fangs lengthened, the muscles in his neck and shoulder bulged, beyond what they’d ever had.
He rose to his feet, holding Polly, and roared again.
It was the roar of an animal that was ready to destroy.
CHAPTER THIRTY ONE
Blake flew with Scarlet in one hand and Ruth in the other, flying as fast as he could to get away from the incoming army. He had been horrified to witness Polly’s murder, and shocked to have watched Scarlet taken out that vampire’s eye. He had sensed a great disturbance in the area, and had flown there, just to check. He had arrived just at the moment that Polly was stabbed, and when he’d witnessed it, without thinking, he’d dove down and scooped up Scarlet and Ruth. It was too late for Polly, he could see that.<
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But it was not too late for Scarlet. After all, Scarlet was Caitlin’s daughter. And Blake still loved Caitlin. Even if she didn’t love him back, he felt there would be no greater way to express his love for her than by rescuing her daughter. Even if it was her daughter with Caleb.
Not that that was his only motivation: Blake would have rescued any helpless child, and in the brief time he had gotten to know her, Blake had fallen in love with Scarlet. She was unusual, advanced beyond her years, and Blake could tell that she would grow into an incredible soul. He knew that saving her would risk his own life, and now, he had an army on his tail. He was vastly outnumbered. He couldn’t understand how an entire vampire army could be attacking Skye. There was the ancient vampire law that no coven could attack another by crossing water—unless they were invited. But who would have invited them?
Had Polly? he wondered. After all, she was lying on the beach, dead. But why would she have done such a thing?
Now was not the time to contemplate. Blake put on his fastest speed, and dove for the woods.
He knew these woods better than anyone, and as he entered them, he ducked and weaved, twisting and turning, outfoxing the others.
When he was sure he had lost them, he circled back around, and headed back for the castle.
Blake knew he had to get back to the castle, to his own coven, Aiden’s men, the King’s men, and warn them all. Scarlet and Ruth would be safe inside, and then, between his people and the King’s human warriors, they could all fend off the attack. The castle was a ground they could hold, and fortify. He only wished that Caitlin and Caleb were there now, to help them.
Blake burst out of the treeline, and finally the castle came into view. He flew over the footbridge, over the moat, landed in the courtyard before its massive doors, and ran right through them, still holing Scarlet and Ruth. As he was running, a part of him registered that there were no human warriors standing guard outside of it, and that the doors were wide open. He was too flustered to pay it close attention, though; if he hadn’t been in such a rush, he would have registered what an ominous sign it was.
Blake screamed out as he ran. “AIDEN!” he shouted. “TAYLOR! TYLER! CAIN!
BARBARA!”
He ran room to room, up the stairs, holding Scarlet and Ruth as he took the steps four at a time.
He finally made it to the roof.
Several of his coven members were there, gathered together, standing at the parapets and watching the skies with grave concern. He was relieved to see them all here, and also relieved to see Samuel, Caleb’s brother, who luckily had been staying here for the wedding. He was also relieved to see dozens of other friendly vampires, those who had come for the wedding and were still here.
Blake also counted at least fifty of his own people up there, ready to fight, weapons in hand.
But at the same time, he didn’t spot any of McCleod’s men, and that concerned him. Blake set Scarlet and Ruth down, and hurried over to the others. He looked everywhere for Aiden, but he was nowhere to be found.
As Blake reached the edge, he looked out at the skies, and saw what the others were all gaping at.
The entire sky was black with an invading vampire army.
Blake was aghast. Even with their dozens of men, there was no way they could possibly defend against all this. This was clearly a well-coordinated, all-out war. Blake was starting to feel unsure even about the safety and security of this castle.
Blake heard a commotion and looked down, and saw with relief that there, below, were hundreds of McCleod’s warriors, all with their silver-tip weapons. That was what they needed.
Finally, they were coming to help defend the castle.
But Blake’s look turned to dismay, as he suddenly realized that these hundreds of warriors were not actually rushing to defend the castle. As McCleod leaned back on his horse and screamed orders at the others, he realized that they all, in full armor, were charging for the castle. As if to attack it.
It was an ambush, Blake realized.
And there was no way out.
CHAPTER THIRTY TWO
Caitlin and Caleb had been flying for hours since they’ve left Eilean Donan Castle, heading east, across the vast country of Scotland, getting further and further away from the Isle of Skye. Caitlin had not stopped thinking about the moment when they’d opened that chest in Eilean Donan.
Inside, sitting there, had been a single, shining, gold key. It was a small key, and seemed to glow with electric energy.
At first, she had wondered if it could be the fourth key. But he had shaken his head, and told her it was different, and she could see that, too. This was one small and gold, whereas the others were large and silver. Caitlin had reached in and picked it up, and examined it in her palm. She’d flipped it over, and spotted a small inscription: “All doors lead to Rosslyn.” Caleb had gasped when he’d heard the phrase.
“Rosslyn,” he’d said. “Rosslyn Chapel. Of course. The rumored home to the Holy Grail.” They had not stopped flying since, racing for Rosslyn, the new key sitting in Caitlin’s one pocket, and the torn page in her other. Caleb had explained to her along the way that Rosslyn Chapel had been the rumored hiding place of the holy Grail for centuries. Scores of humans and vampires had visited, searching for the Grail. But none had ever been able to find it. It made perfect sense, he said, that her father’s clue would lead them there. It was one of the most sacred vampire places in the world.
As they flew now, Caitlin wondered what could be awaiting them. The fourth and final key? Her father himself? The actual Holy Grail? The ancient shield?
And would this be their final stop of the mission?
As they flew, Caitlin couldn’t help shaking a persistent feeling of doom. She didn’t know why, and she couldn’t understand it; but some part of her, deep down, kept telling her that her loved ones were in trouble. Immediately, she thought of Scarlet. Could she be in some kind of danger?
She shook it off. After all, she was also a worried mother now, and it was natural that she would have such anxieties, especially since they were flying in the opposite direction, further and further away from Skye. Caitlin told herself to be strong, not to give in to silly worries. After all, Scarlet was in such good hands, protected by Polly and Sam and Aiden and all the others. What could possibly go wrong?
Besides, they couldn’t turn back now, even if they wanted to. There was an urgency to their mission, and the sooner they completed it, the sooner they could be back. And the sooner they found the ancient shield, her father, the more protected Scarlet would be.
After hours of flying, finally, Caitlin sensed the chapel beneath them.
Rosslyn.
Caitlin looked down, and was amazed: this church looked ancient, even for this time, with dozens of narrow, angular spikes rising up along either side of it, lending it an ornate feeling. It was a huge, sprawling structure, built in a dark orange stone, with a sharply sloped, black tiled roof, giving it a look distinct from any other church she had seen. It exuded a certain energy, and Caitlin felt as if she were in the presence of a truly sacred place.
They landed before its entrance, and as they approached it, Caitlin was in awe of everything about this place. It looked like a place of legends. Even its front door was immense, towering over them, with huge, arched doors and a metal knocker. It was embedded in a massive, stone, arched frame, ornately carved. It looked like the entrance to a fairytale.
Caitlin and Caleb exchanged a look, each quietly wondering if they should knock. They reached a silent agreement, and Caitlin stepped forward, grabbed hold of the huge, iron knocker, and slammed it. The sound reverberated throughout the empty courtyard.
No response.
Caitlin slammed it again and again.
They waited, but still no response.
Caitlin had enough of waiting. Finally, she put her shoulder into the door and pushed hard. It was open, but was such a heavy door, she had to push for all she was worth. The door opened slow
ly, with a creek, and moments later they were inside. Caleb shut the door behind them, and the slam echoed throughout the empty church.
Caitlin was in awe at the sight before her. She had been to some of the greatest churches in the world, and yet this church was different than them all. Built in a reddish stone, it held one of the most ornately designed interiors she had ever seen. Every inch was covered in some shape or design, carved with thousands of symbols, drawings and shapes. Huge, thick columns of stone, the size of tree trunks, filled the nave, rose to the ceiling in arches that curved in every direction, just as thick.
This place was clearly built to last. At its far end, the church culminated in an elaborate altar, behind which sat a fifty foot tall, arched stained glass window, showering the room with a soft, muted afternoon light.
With all the signs and symbols carved into the columns and walls and ceiling, Caitlin could not help but wonder what secret messages were hiding here. It was so silent she could hear a pin drop; she sensed she was in the presence of a very sacred place.
“So, you have arrived,” came a sudden voice.
Caitlin and Caleb wheeled. Standing there, not ten feet away, was a fellow vampire, dressed in all-white robe, smiling back.
Caitlin wondered how he had managed to get so close so quickly. But, luckily, she did not sense any animosity.
“Rosslyn Chapel,” he continued, “burial place for kings and queens for centuries. The site of many a vampire pilgrimage. And the rumored resting place of the Holy Grail.” He stared back at them, smiling.
“But you have not come here to be buried. Or for a pilgrimage. Or to seek the Grail. You are here for something much more special.”
He stared, intently studying Caitlin.
“I thought you’d be older,” he said with a smile.
Caitlin felt her cheeks reddening; she wasn’t sure how to respond. She was caught off guard that he even knew of her at all.
