mouth.
Sam immediately looked for Samantha, fear in his eyes.
“Samantha!” he yelled. “Please! Save me!”
Samantha, despite herself, burst into tears. There was nothing, absolutely nothing she could do.
Six vampires rolled forward a huge, iron cauldron, bubbling and hissing, mounted at the top of a ladder. They put it in position, right over Sam’s head.
Sam looked up at it.
And the last thing he saw was the liquid leaving the cauldron, bubbling and hissing, and heading right for his face.
Four
Caitlin was running. The field of flowers climbed as high as her waist, and as she ran, she cut a path right through it. The sun, blood-red, sat as a huge ball on the horizon.
Standing with his back to the sun, on the horizon, was her father. Or at least, his silhouette. His features were unrecognizable, but she knew that it was him.
As Caitlin ran and ran, desperate to finally see him, to embrace him, the sun sank quickly, too quickly. Everything happened too fast, and within seconds, the sun had disappeared completely.
She found herself running through the field in the middle of the night. Her father was still there, waiting. She felt that he wanted her to run faster, that he wanted to embrace her. But her legs would only run so fast, and no matter how hard she tried, he seemed to just get further away.
As she ran, the moon suddenly rose over the horizon – a huge, blood-red moon, filling the entire sky. Caitlin could see all the details on it, the indents, the craters. It was crystal clear. Her father stood, a silhouette against it, and as she tried to run even faster, it seemed as if she were running towards the very moon itself.
But it wasn’t working. Suddenly, her legs and feet were not moving at all. She looked down, and saw that the flowers had twisted themselves around her ankles and legs, and were morphing into vines. They were so thick, and strong, soon she could not move at all.
As she watched, a huge snake slithered towards her, through the field. She tried to struggle, to get away, but she was helpless. All she could do was watch as it approached. As it got closer, it leapt into the air, lunging right for her throat. She turned and screamed, and felt its long fangs pierce her throat. The pain was horrific.
Caitlin woke with a start, sitting upright in bed and breathing hard. She reached for her throat, and felt the two hardening scars. For a moment, she confused her dream with reality, and looked about the room for a snake. There was none.
She rubbed her throat. The wound still hurt, but not as much as it had in the dream. She breathed deeply.
Caitlin was covered in a cold sweat, her heart still pounding. She wiped her face and the sides of her temples, and could feel her cold, wet hair sticking to her. How long had it been since she’d bathed? Washed her hair? She couldn’t remember. How long had she been lying there? And where, exactly, was she?
Caitlin looked all about the room. It was the same place she remembered from some time ago – was it from a dream, or was she awake here at some point before? The room was entirely made of stone, and had one tall, arched window, through which she could see the night sky, and the enormous full moon, its light pouring in.
She sat on the edge of her bed and rubbed her forehead, trying to remember. As she did, she was struck by a horrible pain in her side. She reached down, and felt the scab of a wound. She tried to remember what it was from. Had someone attacked her?
Caitlin thought hard, and slowly, but surely, the details flooded back. Boston. The Freedom Trail. The King’s Chapel. The sword. Then… being attacked. Then…
Caleb. He had been there, looking down at her. She had felt her world slipping away, and she had asked him. Turn me, she had pleaded.…
Caitlin raised her hands and felt the two marks on the side of her throat, and she knew that he had listened.
That explained everything. Caitlin stood with a start, with the realization. She had been turned. She had been taken somewhere, probably for recovery, probably under Caleb’s watchful gaze. She tested her arms and legs, twisted her neck, tested her body….
She felt different, that was for sure. She was not herself anymore. She felt unlimited strength coursing through her. A desire to run, to sprint, to break through walls, to leap into the air. She also felt something else: two slight bulges on her back, behind her shoulder blades. Very subtle, but she knew they were there. Wings. She knew, she felt, that if she wanted to fly, they would open up for her.
Caitlin fell intoxicated by her newfound strength. She wanted desperately to test it. She felt so cooped up – she had no idea how long she had been here – and she wanted to see what this new life could be like. She also felt something else that was new: a sense of recklessness. A sense that she could not die. That she could make stupid mistakes, that she had infinite lives to play with. She wanted to push things to the edge.
Caitlin turned and looked out the window, at the night sky. The window was shaped in a wide arch, with no glass, and was open to the elements. The sort of thing one might see in an old, medieval cloister.
In the past, the old, human Caitlin would have hesitated, would have thought about what she was about to do, would have second-guessed herself. But the re-born Caitlin felt no hesitation. Practically the second after she thought it, she took off at a sprint, right for it.
With just a few short strides, Caitlin jumped up onto the window sill and dove out into the open air.
Some part of her, some instinct, told her that once she was airborne, her wings would sprout. If she were wrong, it would mean a serious plummet, hundreds of feet down to the earth. But the re-born Caitlin didn’t feel as if she could ever be wrong.
And she wasn’t. As Caitlin leapt out into the night, her wings sprouted out from behind her shoulder blades, and she felt the exhilarating thrill of flying, of gliding through the air. She was delighted to feel how wide and long her wings were, thrilled to feel the fresh, night air washing over her face, hair, and body. It was nighttime, but the moon was so full and so big, it lit up the night almost as if it were day.
Caitlin looked down and was afforded a bird’s-eye view. She had sensed water, and she had been right. She was on an island. All around her, in every direction, there stretched a huge, beautiful river, its waters very still and lit up by the moonlight. It was the widest river she had ever seen. And there, in the middle of it, was the tiny island on which she’d slept. A small island, hardly more than a few dozen acres, one end of it was dominated by a crumbling, Scottish castle, half in ruin. The rest of the island was completely consumed by a thick forest.
As Caitlin flew in the air, up and down on the wind currents, turning and swooping and diving, she circled the island again. The castle was huge, magnificent. Parts of it were crumbling, but other parts, those hidden from outside view, in the interior, were perfectly intact. There were inner courtyards and outer courtyards, ramparts, turrets, winding staircases, and acres and acres of gardens. It was large enough to hold a small army.
As she dove, she saw that the interior of the castle was lit with torches. And there were people milling about. Vampires? Her senses told her that they were. Her own kind. They were walking about, interacting with each other. Some them were training, sword fighting, playing games. The island was abuzz with activity. Who were these people? Why was she here? Had they taken her in?
As
