He yelled.
Gradually, the murmur died down.
“So. You risked us all to save a human?” he asked.
“I saved her to save ourselves,” Caleb answered. “If she is the One, we are nothing without her.”
Caitlin’s head spun. She didn’t know what to think. The One? Doctrine? What was he talking about? She wondered if he thought she was someone else, thought she was someone greater than she is.
Her heart sank, not because of the way that the Council looked at her, but because she began to worry that Caleb had only saved her for his own sake. That he didn’t really care for her. And that his affection for her would disappear when he knew the truth. He would find out that she was just an average, ordinary girl, no matter what took place over the last few days, and he would abandon her. Just like all the other guys in her life.
As if to confirm her thoughts, the judge in the middle slowly shook his head, staring at Caleb with condescension.
“You have made a grave mistake,” he said. “What you fail to see is that you are the one who began this war. Your departure is what has alerted them to our presence.
“Furthermore, she is not the one you think she is.”
Caleb began, “Then how do you explain–”
Another council member spoke this time, “Many centuries ago there was a case like this. A vampire was immune to weaponry. People thought he was the Messiah then, too. He was not. He was just a half-breed.”
“Half-breed?” Caleb asked. He suddenly sounded unsure.
“The vampire by birth,” he continued, “one that was never turned. They are immune to some weaponry, but not to others. But that does not make them one of us. Nor does it make them immortal. I’ll show you,” he continued, and suddenly turned to Caitlin.
She felt nervous with his eyes staring through her. “Tell me young one, who turned you?”
Caitlin had no idea what he was talking about. She didn’t even know what his question meant. Once again this night, she found herself wondering what the best answer was to give. She hesitated, feeling that whatever she said would have a great impact not just on her safety, but on Caleb’s, too. She wanted to give the right answer for him, but she just didn’t know what to say.
“I’m sorry,” she said, “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I was never turned. I don’t even know what that means.”
Another council member leaned forward. “Then who is your father?” he asked.
Of all questions, why had he had to ask her that? That was the question she had always asked herself, her whole life long. Who was he? Why had she never met him? Why did he leave her? It was an answer she wanted more than anything in life. And now, on demand, she certainly could not provide it.
“I don’t know,” she said, finally.
The council member leaned back, as if in victory. “You see?” he said. “Half-breeds are not turned. And they never know their parents. You are mistaken, Caleb. You have made a grave error.”
“Doctrine states that a half-breed will be the Messiah, and that she will lead us to the lost sword,” Caleb snapped back, defiantly.
“Doctrine states that a half-breed will bring the Messiah,” the council member corrected. “Not be.”
“You are parsing words,” Caleb answered. “I am telling you that war has begun, and that she will lead us to the sword. Time is swift. We must have her lead us to it. It is the only hope we have.”
“A child’s tales,” answered another council member. “The sword you speak of does not exist. And if it did, a half-breed would not be the one to lead us.”
“If we don’t, others will. They will capture her, and find it, and use it against us.”
“You have committed a grave violation in bringing her here,” another one of them said, from the far end of the panel.
“But I—” Caleb began.
“ENOUGH!” shouted the lead council member.
The room grew silent.
“Caleb. You have knowingly violated several laws of our coven. You have abandoned your post. You have disgraced your mission. You have sparked a war. And you have risked us all for a human. Not even a human, but a half-breed. Worse, you have brought her here, right into our midst, endangering us all.
“We sentence you to 50 years confinement. You will not leave these grounds. And you will cast this half-breed out of our walls at once.
“Now, leave us.”
Chapter Thirteen
Caitlin and Caleb stood together on the large, open terrace outside the Cloisters, looking out at the night. Far-off, she could see the Hudson River, peeking out between the bare trees of March. In the distance, she could even see the tiny lights of cars heading over the bridge. The night was completely silent.
“I need you to answer some questions for me, Caleb,” she said softly, after several seconds of silence.
“I know,” Caleb answered.
“What am I doing here? Who do you think I am?” Caitlin asked. It took her a few seconds more to summon the courage to ask the final question, “And why did you save me?”
Caleb stared off into the horizon for several seconds. She could not tell what he was thinking, or if he would even answer.
Finally, he turned to her. He stared right into her eyes, and the power of his stare was overwhelming. She couldn’t look away if she tried.
“I am a vampire,” he said, flatly. “Of the White Coven. I have lived for over 3,000 years, and I have been with this coven for 800 of them.”
“Why am I here?”
“Vampire covens and races are always at war. They are very territorial. Unfortunately, you stumbled right into the middle of it.”
“What do you mean?” she asked. “How?”
He looked at her, confused. “Don’t you remember?”
She stared back, blankly.
“Your kill. It ignited all of this.”
“Kill?”
He slowly shook his head. “So, you don’t remember. Typical. First kills are always that way.” He looked her in the eye. “You killed someone last night. A human. You fed on him. In Carnegie Hall.”
Caitlin felt her world spinning. She could hardly believe she was capable of harming anyone, yet somehow, deep down, she felt it was true. She was afraid to ask who it was. Could it have been Jonah?
As if reading her mind, Caleb added, “The vocalist.”
Caitlin
