yourself: where do I need to go next?”
Caitlin did so, wracking her brain. Nothing happened.
“Listen to the sound of your breathing. Let your mind still.”
As Caitlin did so, as she really focused and relaxed, images began to flash in her mind. She finally opened her eyes and looked at him.
“I see two places,” she said. “Florence, and Venice.”
“Yes,” he said. “Very good.”
“But I’m confused. Where do I go?”
“There are no wrong choices in a journey. Each path just brings us to a different place. The choice is yours. You have a very strong destiny, but you also have free will. You can choose at any step. Now, for example, you are faced with a pivotal choice. In Florence, you will fulfill your obligations, come closer to the Shield. It is what is needed of you. But in Venice, you will fulfill matters of the heart. You will have to choose between your mission and your heart.”
Caitlin’s heart soared.
Matters of the heart. Did that mean that Caleb was in Venice?
She felt her heart drawn to Venice. Yet, intellectually, she knew that Florence was where she should be in order to do what was expected of her.
She felt torn already.
“You are a grown woman now,” he said. “The choice is yours to make. But if you follow your heart, there will be heartbreak,” he warned. “The road of the heart is never easy. And never expected.”
“I feel so confused,” she said.
“We do our best work in dreams,” he said. “There is a cloisters next door, and you can sleep here for the night, rest, and decide in the morning. By then, you’ll be fully recovered.”
“Thank you,” she said, reaching out and taking his hand.
He turned to go, and as he did, her heart pounded. There was one more question she needed to ask him, the most important one of all. But a part of her was too scared to ask it. She was trembling. She opened her mouth to speak, but it turned dry.
He was walking down the corridor, about to turn away, when finally, she mustered the courage.
“Wait!” she yelled. Then softer, “Please, I have one more question.”
He stopped in his tracks, but kept his back to her. Oddly enough, he did not turn back around, as if he sensed what she was about to ask.
“My baby,” she said, in a soft, trembling voice. “Is he… she… did it make it? The trip? Am I still pregnant?”
He slowly turned, faced her. Then he lowered his eyes.
“I’m sorry,” he finally said, so soft that she wasn’t sure if she heard it. “You’ve come back in time. Children can only move forward. Your child lives, but not in this time. Only in the future.”
“But…” she began, trembling, “I thought vampires can only travel back in time, not forwards.”
“True,” he said. “I am afraid that your child lives in a time and place without you.” He lowered his eyes again. “I am so sorry,” he added.
With those final words, he turned and left.
And Caitlin felt as if a dagger had been plunged into her heart.
Chapter Four
Caitlin sat in the stark room of the Franciscan monastery and looked out through the open window, into the night. She had finally stopped crying. It had been hours since she’d left the priest, since she’d heard the news of her lost child. She hadn’t been able to stop the tears, or to stop thinking about the life she would have led. It was all too painful.
But after many hours, she cried herself out, and now all that was left were dried up tears on her cheeks. She looked out the window, trying to distract herself, and breathed deep.
The Umbrian countryside spread out before her, and from this vantage point, high up on a hill, she could the rolling hills of Assisi. There was a full moon out, enough light for her to see that this was a truly beautiful countryside. She saw the small, country cottages dotting the landscape, the smoke rising from the chimneys, and she could already feel that this was a quieter, more relaxed time in history.
Caitlin turned and surveyed her small room, lit only by the moonlight and a small candle burning on a wall sconce. It was made entirely of stone, with only a simple bed in the corner. She marveled at how it seemed to be her fate to always end up in a cloister. This place couldn’t be more different than Pollepel, yet at the same time, the small, medieval room reminded her of the room she’d had there. It was designed for introspection.
Caitlin examined the smooth, stone floor, and saw, near the window, two slight imprints, a few inches apart, in the shape of a knee. She wondered how many nuns had prayed here, had knelt before the window. This room had probably seen hundreds of years of use.
Caitlin went over to the small bed, and laid down. It was just a stone slab, really, with the tiniest bit of straw. She tried to get comfortable, rolling on her side – and then she felt something. She reached over and extracted it, and realized with delight what it was: her journal.
She held it up, so happy to have it by her side. Her old trusted friend, it seemed to be the one thing that had survived the journey back. Holding it, this real, tangible thing, made her realize that this was not all a dream. She was really here. Everything had really happened.
A modern pen slipped out of its pages and landed on her lap. She held it up and examined it, thinking.
Yes, she decided. That was exactly what she needed to do. To write. To process. Everything had happened so fast, she’d hardly had time to catch her breath. She needed to play it through in her mind, to think back, to remember. How had she gotten here? What had happened? Where was she going?
She wasn’t sure if she knew the answers herself anymore. But by writing, she hoped she could remember.
Caitlin turned the brittle pages over until she found an empty page. She sat up and leaned against the wall, curled her knees to her chest and began to write.
How did I end up here? In Assisi? In Italy? In 1790? On the one hand, it doesn’t seem like long ago that I was back in the 21st century, in New York, living a normal teenage life. On the other hand, it seems like forever… How did it all begin?
I remember, first, the hunger pangs. My not understanding what they were. Jonah. Carnegie Hall. My first feeding. My inexplicably turning into a vampire. A half-breed is what they called me. I’d felt like I’d wanted to die. All I’d ever wanted was to be like everybody else.
Then there was Caleb. His saving me from the evil coven, rescuing me. His coven in the Cloisters. But they cast me out, as human and vampire relationships were forbidden. I was on my own again – that is, until Caleb rescued me again.
My quest for my father, for the mythical sword that could spare the human race from a vampire war, led Caleb and I all over the place, from one historic place to another. We found the sword, and it got taken from us. As always, Kyle was waiting to ruin things.
But
