by Noah
betrothed
(book #6 in the vampire journals)
morgan rice
Also by Morgan Rice
TURNED (Book #1 in the Vampire Journals)
LOVED (Book #2 in the Vampire Journals)
BETRAYED (Book #3 in the Vampire Journals)
DESTINED (Book #4 in the Vampire Journals)
DESIRED (Book #5 in the Vampire Journals)
Copyright © 2011 by Morgan Rice
All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior permission of the author.
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return it and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, events, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictionally. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Cover model: Jennifer Onvie. Cover photography: Adam Luke Studios, New York. Cover makeup artist: Ruthie Weems. If you would like to contact any of these artists, please contact Morgan Rice.
FACT:
In Shakespeare’s London, a common form of entertainment was “bear baiting.” A bear would be tied to a pole while a pack of wild dogs was unleashed. Bets would be placed to see who won. The “bear baiting” stadium was right near Shakespeare’s theatre. Many of the rough bear baiting crowd would then go and watch a Shakespeare play.
In Shakespeare’s time, the crowd that went to see his plays was not elitist or sophisticated. On the contrary. The majority of people who went to see his plays were rough, crude people, commoners who came for entertainment and had to only pay a penny to get in. For that price, they had to stand on the ground throughout the whole play—and thus became known as the
“groundlings.”
Shakespeare’s London was civilized—but it was also barbaric. It was common to see executions and public torture of criminals in the streets. The entrance to its most famous roadway—the London Bridge—was often adorned with pikes, on which sat the severed heads of criminals.
The Bubonic Plague (also known as the Black Death) killed millions in Europe, and struck London repeatedly throughout the centuries. It spread in places with poor sanitation and massive crowds, and hit Shakespeare’s theater district the hardest. It would take centuries until it was discovered that the carrier of the plague was fleas, hosted by rats.
“Come, gentle night, come, loving, black-brow'd night,
Give me my Romeo; and, when he shall die,
Take him and cut him out in little stars,
And he will make the face of heaven so fine
That all the world will be in love with night
And pay no worship to the garish sun.”
--William Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet
CHAPTER ONE
London, England
(September, 1599)
Caleb awoke to the sound of bells.
He sat bolt upright and looked all around, breathing heavily. He had been dreaming of Kyle, chasing him, of Caitlin, holding out a hand for help. They had been in a field filled with bats, against a blood-red sun, and it had seemed so real.
Now, as he looked around the room, he tried to determine whether it was all real, or if he was truly awake and back in time. After several seconds of listening to his own breathing, of feeling the cool dampness in the air, of listening to the quiet, to his own heartbeat, he realized that it was all a dream. He was truly awake.
Caleb realized he was sitting upright inside an open sarcophagus. He looked around the dim, cavernous room and saw that it was filled with sarcophagi. There were low, arched ceilings and narrow slits for windows, through which streamed the smallest amount of sunlight. It was just enough to see by. He squinted at the glare, reached into his pocket, and applied his eyedrops, glad to find them still there. Slowly, the pain receded, and he relaxed.
Caleb jumped up and onto his feet in one motion, spinning around the room, taking stock in all directions. He was still on guard, not wanting to get attacked or ambushed before he’d had a chance to get his bearings. But there was nothing, and no one, in the room. Just silence. He noticed the ancient stone floors, walls, the small altar and cross, and guessed that he was in the lower crypt of a church.
Caitlin.
Caleb spun around the room again, searching for any sign of her. He felt a sense of urgency as he hurried to the sarcophagus nearest him. With all his might, he scraped back the lid.
His heart lifted at the hope of finding her. But he was crestfallen to find it empty.
Caleb hurried through the room, going from one sarcophagus to the next, pushing back each lid.
But they were all empty.
Caleb felt a sense of growing desperation as he pushed back the final lid in the room, with so much force that it crashed to the ground and shattered into a million bits. But he already had a sinking feeling he would find it, like the others, to be vacant—and he was right. Caitlin was nowhere in this room, he realized, breaking out into a cold sweat. Where could she be?
The thought of coming back in time without her sent a chill up his spine. He cared more for her than he could say and without her by his side, his life, his mission, felt purposeless.
He suddenly remembered something, and reached into his pocket, checking to see if it was still there. Thankfully, it was. His mother’s wedding ring. He held it up to the light, and admired the six-carat sapphire, perfectly cut, mounted on a band of diamonds and rubies. He had never been able to find the right moment to propose to her. This time, he was determined to.
If, of course, she had come back at all.
Caleb heard a noise and spun towards the entrance, sensing motion. He hoped beyond hope that it was Caitlin.
But he was surprised to find himself looking down, as the person turned the corner, and to see that it wasn’t a person at all. It was Ruth. Caleb was overjoyed to see her there, to see that she had survived the trip back in time.
She walked towards Caleb, her tail wagging, her eyes lighting with recognition. As she got closer, Caleb knelt down and she ran into his arms. He loved Ruth, and he was surprised at how much she had grown: she seemed to be twice the size, and a formidable animal. He was also encouraged to find her here: maybe it meant that Caitlin was here, too.
Ruth suddenly turned and ran out the room, disappearing around the corner. Caleb was baffled by her behavior, and he hurried off after her, to see where she went.
He found himself entering another vaulted chamber, this one also littered with sarcophagi. He could see at a glance that they were all already opened, and empty.
Ruth kept running, whining, and ran out this room, too. Caleb started to wonder whether Ruth was leading him somewhere. He sped up after her.
After tearing through several more rooms, Ruth finally stopped in a small alcove at the end of the corridor, dimly lit by a single torch. Inside, sat a lone, marble sarcophagus, intricately designed.
Caleb approached it slowly, holding his breath, hoping, sensing, that Caitlin could be inside.
Ruth sat down beside it, and stared up at Caleb. She whined frantically.
Caleb knelt and tried to push back its stone lid. But this one was much heavier than the others, and it h
ardly budged.
He knelt and pushed harder, using all his might, and finally, it began to budge. He kept pushing, and moments later, the lid came off completely.
Caleb was flooded with relief to find Caitlin lying there, still as could be, her hands neatly folded across her chest. But his relief turned to concern as he studied her, and saw that she was paler than he had ever seen. There was no color in her cheeks whatsoever, and her eyes did not even react to the torchlight. He looked more closely and noticed that she didn’t appear to be breathing.
He leaned back in horror. Caitlin appeared to be dead.
Ruth whined louder: now he understood.
Caleb leaned in and placed both hands firmly on her shoulders. He shook her gently.
“Caitlin?” he said, hearing the worry in his own voice. “CAITLIN!?” he called louder, as he shook her with more force.
But she didn’t respond, and his entire body went cold as he imagined what his life would be like without her in it. He knew there was a danger to time travel, and that not all vampires survived every trip. But he had never really contemplated the reality of dying on the trip back. Had he made a mistake to keep encouraging her on the search, on the mission? Should he have just let it go, have settled with her in the last time and place?
What if he had lost everything?
Ruth jumped into the sarcophagi, standing with all four paws on Caitlin’s chest, and began licking her all over her face. Minutes passed, and Ruth never stopped licking, whining as she did.
Just as Caleb leaned over, ready to pull Ruth off, he stopped. He was shocked as Caitlin began to open an eye.
Ruth howled, ecstatic, as she jumped off of Caitlin and ran in circles. Caleb leaned in, equally ecstatic, as Caitlin finally opened both eyes, and began to look around.
He hurried over and grabbed one of her ice-cold hands, warming it between his.
“Caitlin? Can you hear me? It’s me, Caleb.”
Slowly, she began to sit up, and he helped her, reaching in, gently placing a hand behind her neck. He was so happy to see her blinking, squinting. He could see how disoriented she was, as if awoken from a deep, deep sleep.
“Caitlin?” he asked again, softly.
She looked at him blankly, her brown eyes as beautiful as he’d remembered. But something, he could tell, was wrong. She was still unsmiling, and as she blinked at him, her eyes held the look of a stranger.
“Caitlin?” he asked again, worried this time.
She stared right at him, her eyes wide open, and he saw, with a sudden shock, that she didn’t recognize him.
“Who are you?” she asked.
Caleb’s heart fell. Was it possible? Had the trip wiped out her memory? Had she really forgotten him?
“Caitlin,” he prodded again, “it’s me. Caleb.”
He smiled, hoping maybe that would help her remember.
But she didn’t smile back. She just stared at him, with a vacant look, blinking several times.
“I’m sorry,” she finally said. “But I have no idea who you are.” CHAPTER TWO
Sam woke to the sound of screeching birds. He opened his eyes and saw, high up overhead, several huge vultures circling. There must have been a dozen of them, and they circled lower and lower, seemingly right over him, as if watching him. As if waiting.
He suddenly realized they assumed he was dead, and were waiting for their chance to swoop in and eat him.
Sam jumped to his feet, and as he did, the birds suddenly flew off, as if startled that the dead could rise again.
He looked around, trying to get his bearings. He was in a field, in the midst of rolling hills. As far as he could see, there were more hills, covered in grass and odd bushes. The temperature was perfect, and there was not a cloud in the sky. It was very picturesque, and there was not a single building in sight. It appeared he was in the middle of nowhere.
Sam tried to figure out where he was, what time period, and how he’d arrived. He desperately tried to think back. What had happened before he’d gone back in time?
Slowly, he remembered. He had been in the Notre Dame, in Paris, in 1789. He had been fighting off Kyle, Kendra, Sergei and their people, keeping them at bay so that Caitlin and Caleb could escape. It had been the least he could do, and he owed her that much, especially after endangering her with his reckless romance with Kendra.
Vastly outnumbered, he had used his shape-shifting power, and had managed to confuse them just enough to wreak considerable damage, wiping out many of Kyle’s men, incapacitating the others, and managing to escape with Polly.
Polly.
She had been by his side the whole time, had fought valiantly, and the two of them, he remembered, had been quite a force together. They had escaped through the ceiling of the Notre Dame, and had gone searching for Caitlin and Caleb in the night. Yes. It was all starting to come back….
Sam had found out that his sister had gone back in time, and he knew, on the spot, that he had to go back, too, to make wrongs right, to find Caitlin again, to apologize, and to protect her. He knew she didn’t need it: she was a better warrior than he was now, and she had Caleb. But she was his sister, after all, and the impulse to protect her was something he could not turn off.
Polly had insisted on coming back with him. She, too, was intent on seeing Caitlin again, and on explaining herself to her. Sam hadn’t objected, and they had gone back together.
Sam looked around again now, staring out at the fields, wondering.
“Polly?” he called out, tentatively.
No response.
He walked towards the edge of a hill, hoping to get a view of the landscape.
“Polly!?” he called out again, louder this time.
“Finally!” came a voice.
As Sam looked out, Polly appeared, walking up over the horizon, rounding a hill. She carried an armful of strawberries and was eating one, her mouth full as she spoke. “I’ve been waiting for you all morning! Gosh! You really love to sleep, don’t you!?”
Sam was delighted to see her. Seeing her, he realized how alone he had felt coming back, and how happy he was to have some companionship. He also realized, despite himself, how much she had grown on him. Especially after his fiasco with Kendra, he appreciated being around a normal girl, appreciated Polly more than she knew. And as she got closer, and as the sun lit up her light brown hair and blue eyes, her translucent white skin, he was surprised, once again, by her natural beauty.
He was about to respond, but as usual, she didn’t let him get a word in.
“I woke up not ten feet from you,” she continued, as she approached, eating another strawberry,
“and I shook you and shook you, but you wouldn’t wake! So I went off and did some gathering. I’m anxious to leave this place, but I figured I’d not leave you to the birds before I went. We have to find Caitlin. Who knows where she is? She could need our help right now. And all you do is sleep!
After all, what did we come back for if we’re not going to get up and go and—”
“Please!” Sam called out, breaking into a laugh. “I can’t get a word in!” Polly stopped and stared at him, looking surprised, as if she had no idea she were speaking so much.
“Well then,” she said, “speak!”
Sam stared back at her, distracted by how blue her eyes looked in the early morning light; finally having a chance to speak, he froze up, forgetting what he was about to say.
“Uh…” he began.
Polly threw up her hands.
“Boys!” she exclaimed. “They never want you to talk—but they never have anything to say themselves! Well, I can’t wait around here anymore!” she said, and hurried off, strutting through the fields, eating another strawberry.
“Wait!” Sam called out, hurrying to catch up with her. “Where are you going?”
“Why, to find Caitlin, of course!”
“You know where she is?” he asked.
“No,” she said. “But I know where she isn’t—and t
hat’s in this field! We need to get out of here.
Find the closest city, or buildings, or whatever, and figure out what time we’re in. We have to start somewhere! And this is not the place!”
“Well, don’t you think I want to find my sister, too!?” Sam called out, exasperated.
Finally, she stopped and turned, facing him.
“I mean, don’t you want company?” Sam asked, realizing as he said it, how much he wanted to look for Caitlin with her. “Don’t you want to search together?” Polly looked back at him with her large blue eyes, as if summing him up. He felt as if he were being scrutinized, and he could see she looked unsure. He couldn’t understand why.
“I don’t know,” she finally said. “I mean, you handled yourself pretty well back there in Paris—I do have to admit. But…”
She paused.
“What is it?” he finally asked.
Polly cleared her throat.
“Well, if you must know, the last—um—boy—I spent any time with—Sergei—turned out to be a liar and a con-man, who tricked and used me. I was too stupid to see it. But I’m never going to fall for anything like that again. And I’m not ready to trust anybody of the male race—not even you. I just don’t want to spend any time with any more boys right now. Not that you and I—not that I’m saying that we’re—not that I think of you that way—as anything more than a friend—than an acquaintance—”
Polly began stammering, and he could see how nervous she had become, and couldn’t help smiling inwardly.
“—but it’s just that, regardless, I’m sick of boys. No offense.” Sam smiled broadly. He loved her candor, and her spunkiness.
“None taken,” he answered. “The truth be told,” he added, “I’m sick of girls.” Polly’s eyes opened wide in surprise; that clearly wasn’t the response she’d been expecting.
“But it occurs to me that we have a better chance of finding my sister if we search together. I mean—just—” Sam cleared his throat, “—just professionally speaking.” Now it was Polly’s turn to smile.
“Professionally speaking,” she repeated.
Sam reached out his hand, formally.
“I promise, we’ll just be friends—nothing more,” he said. “I’ve sworn off of girls forever. No matter what.”
