As Caitlin and Caleb stood by the railing, looking out at the ocean, the ferry to Martha’s Vineyard blew its horn and began to depart. Caitlin looked down and saw the moving water, and was excited. She loved boats. She felt happy, and free. As she watched the waves rising beneath her, she realized that right now she’d probably be sitting in some stupid class, listening to a teacher drone on. She felt like an adult. Independent. The whole world was hers.She looked over at Caleb, expecting to see him also happy, and was surprised to see him looking so nervous. She had never seen him like this.He looked more pale than usual. She wondered if he didn’t like boats, or if maybe he didn’t know how to swim.She reached over and lay a reassuring hand on his. “You okay?”He nodded, and swallowed. He clutched the railing, and looked down at the water as if it were his enemy.“What is it?” she asked.He swallowed.“Water,” he said simply. He gripped the railing harder. “Our kind does not l
Sam sat in the passenger seat of the BMW as they raced down the interstate. He couldn’t believe it. It all felt like a dream. Here he was, in the passenger seat of a new BMW, racing down the highway, leaning back, with a hot girl by his side. And it was her car, and she was driving—stick. She was hot to begin with, but this made her really hot. He felt like he was in some kind of James Bond movie. Things like this just didn’t happen to him. Girls never even talked to him, and the few times he’d tried to pick them up, it hadn’t gone so well.And things just kept getting better. Not only did she have an awesome house, and a hot pair of wheels, but she, like him, just wanted to take off and go. They both had their windows down, and it was turning out to be a warm, March day. Coldplay came on the radio, and Sam reached over and turned it up. He wondered if she’d turn it back down, or change the station. Instead, she reached over and turned it louder. He couldn’t believe it.Sam looked ou
The ferry let Caitlin and Caleb off at the dock in Edgartown, a small village in the southeast corner of Martha’s Vineyard. As they walked down the ramp, Caitlin noticed that both Caleb and Rose seemed relieved to be on dry land. Rose peeked her head out, and kept it out, sniffing the air, and taking in the view with great curiosity.Caitlin held the flyer up once again and stared. She couldn’t believe their luck. It was an advertisement to explore “Historic Martha’s Vineyard,” and there, towards the end of the list of sites, it read: “The Vincent House. Built 1672.”After seeing it, they had decided to change plans, and to go to the Vincent House first, before the Aquinnah Cliffs. After all, that’s what was engraved on the key, and that was a more concrete lead than the cliffs. Maybe they wouldn’t even need to see the cliffs now. At least now they had a specific place to go. And of course, Caitlin still held the key in her pocket, holding it close. She slipped one hand into her pock
Samantha, in the passenger seat, looked over and was impressed by how Sam handled the car. Not bad for someone his age. She was surprised by how well he handled the stick, and she forgave him his initial grinding of gears. He was actually pretty good once he got past third. She liked his aggression, especially when the speedometer hit 120. He had spirit, she had to give him that.She leaned back, relaxing and enjoying the ride. It was a lot slower than flying, but not bad for human travel. She thought of the man who’d owned this car, that real estate broker—her morning meal—and smiled. His blood still ran through her veins, and it felt good. She was sated.She didn’t need to let the kid drive, but she figured his days were numbered anyway, so why not let him enjoy them, go out with a bang? It would only be a matter of hours now until she’d meet his father, and find out where that sword was. After that, she could dispose of them both.But something gnawed at her. She was actually sta
Roger led them back onto the brick walkway, through the manicured grounds, and past the Daniel Fisher House. They exited back on the street, made a quick turn, and then, before they knew it, he was leading them up the front steps and into the huge, historic whaling church.Caleb and Caitlin looked at each other in wonder. They had just walked by it.The door was locked, but Roger had the key. He unlocked it, and held it open for them.“We didn’t move it far,” he said, with a smile and a wink.They entered, and he closed and locked the door behind them.Caitlin was taken aback as they entered the church. It was breathtaking. So light and airy, so beautiful in its simplicity, it was unlike any church she had ever been in. There were no crosses, no religious figures, no ornamentation, not even any columns or beams—it was just a huge open room, lined in every direction with old windows. There were rows and rows of simple, wooden pews, enough to hold hundreds of people. It was a very p
“Hey buddy, move out!” came the gruff voice.Kyle felt himself being kicked, then nudged with a baton.He opened his eyes.He was lying on a cold, hard surface, but had no idea where. Sunlight was creeping over the horizon, and it burned his eyes and skin.“Hey buddy, did you hear me? I said move it!” the cop yelled.Kyle opened his eyes fully now, and realized he’d been lying on marble. On the cold, marble steps of City Hall. He was outside, at daybreak, lying sprawled out, like a bum. He looked up and saw two uniformed policeman standing over him, poking and prodding him with their batons, smiling at each other.Kyle tried to remember what happened, how he’d got here. He remembered reporting to Rexius. Then being grabbed, being tied down. Then, the acid. He reached up and felt one side of his face, and it felt normal. Then he reached up and felt the other—and the pain came flooding back. He could feel the contours, the horrible scars, the disfiguration. They had branded him wit
Caitlin and Caleb flew over miles of dark woods as they crossed Martha’s Vineyard, heading into the late afternoon sun. She marveled at how big the island was. She had imagined it to be a small place, but as she looked down, she realized that it was massive. The Aquinnah cliffs, where they were heading, were on the far corner of the island, all the way on the other side. Even flying at Caleb’s speed, it would take a while.Caleb didn’t like to fly if other people were around, as he never wanted to draw undue attention to him or to the race. But the island was so deserted this time of year, that he had no qualms about flying them from one side to the other, especially over a patch of woods.Caitlin’s mind spun as she thought of the whaling church, and of the latest clue they’d found. It was not at all what she’d expected. She had guessed it might be another key. Instead, they’d found a scroll—a brittle, yellowing parchment, and torn in half, right down the middle. It had been obvious,
As Sam stood there, facing his father, his heart sank. He couldn’t believe it. While he’d been disappointed by the trailer park, by the mobile home, by the unkempt surroundings, nothing had prepared him for his disappointment upon seeing his Dad. All of his dreams came crashing down at once.His dad was a short, thin, frail man, maybe in his 50s, balding badly, with long stringy hair that draped down over one side of his head. He hadn’t shaved in days, and it looked like he’d slept in his clothes. His skin was covered in warts, and scarred by bad acne. He had small, beady black eyes, which darted about in his head. He stared back at Sam, looking not unlike a rat. In fact, his entire aura exuded sleaze. And he reeked. He probably hadn’t bathed in days.He looked nothing like Sam. And he looked nothing like the Dad that Sam had imagined he’d come from.Sam couldn’t fathom how he possibly had come from such a human being. He felt worse about himself than he ever had.Maybe he had the
As Caitlin and Caleb left the Meeting House, turning onto School Street, the King’s Chapel Burying Ground came into view. It was only two short blocks away, and a direct, straight walk.The fourth tip of the cross, Caitlin thought. It all makes perfect sense.As they walked, she marveled at the fact that they had walked, this entire time, in the shape of a cross, as if they had been led by some invisible hand.Caitlin felt her heart beating faster. She was nervous to finally meet her father, if he was alive. And nervous to see his grave, if he should be dead. She wasn’t sure how she would react either way. But she was also excited, relieved to at last know exactly who he was, where she came from. She was excited to know what her lineage was, and what her destiny would be.She was also nervous that this would mean the end between her and Caleb. What if they really found the sword? What would he do then? Would he go and wage his war? Save his coven? And where would that leave her?T
Caitlin and Caleb stood in Boston Common, at the top of a small hill, looking out, surveying the park. He held a map of the Freedom Trail which he’d just bought in a store, and he ran his finger along it again and again. Caitlin stood beside him, holding out both halves of the ancient scroll.“Read it again,” he said.Caitlin squinted to make out the words. She read:The Four Horsemen travel a trail to freedom.They leave common ground,Enter a ring of blood,Meet at the house,And find the ones they lovedBeside the fourth tip of the cross.“A trail to freedom,” Caleb repeated aloud, concentrating. “It must be a reference to the freedom trail. It would make perfect sense. Its right in the middle, right between Salem and Martha’s Vineyard. We’re in the center.“And the ‘common ground’ reference…that must be Boston Common, where we are right now. It would also make sense. In the 1600s, where we’re standing, they hung the witches. It is a very important spot, especially for
Sam was still reeling.That scene inside the mobile home had been so intense, he still couldn’t process it. That creep. The knife. The struggle. His cheek. And then Samantha. Killing him like that. It was unbelievable. Who was she?As he sat in the roadside diner, across from her in a booth, he looked her over. He was more attracted to her than ever—but also wary now. Cautious. She looked totally relaxed, sipping on her vanilla milkshake, and he couldn’t understand. Was this the same chick? Here she was, this totally cool and hot, awesome chick, who he loved hanging out with—and yet she had also been that crazy, psycho girl that totally killed that creep without even blinking an eye. Had she really killed him?It had all gone down so quickly, and the place was so dark, he couldn’t even really tell what had happened, exactly. But he remembered the noise, that sickening crack when she twisted his neck. And he remembered seeing the guy hit the ground, totally limp. The dude looked dead
As their yacht pulled up into the dock in Edgartown, Kyle could wait no longer. He leapt from the deck, flying twenty feet, and landed nimbly on the pier, leaving the Russian to tie up the boat.On dry land, he felt better already.The Russian was quick to follow, killing the engine, anchoring the yacht, and hurrying to catch up.“Hey, you can’t dock your boat there!” yelled a middle-aged, potbellied man with bright red cheeks, storming up to them. “That dock is private! It’s reserved for—”Before the man could finish, Kyle grabbed him with one hand by the throat, and squeezed with such force, that he lifted the heavy man off the ground by several feet, dangling him in the air.The man’s eyes bulged from his head, as his face turned bright red. Kyle grimaced, and then in one motion, threw him off the side of the dock.The man landed with a splash, far off in the water.Kyle hope he killed him. He should have squeezed longer.“Where is she?” Kyle demanded through gritted teeth.
Kyle paced the deck of the small yacht, anxious as they sped in the early morning towards Martha’s Vineyard. He could not stand still. He hated boats, and he hated water. Worse, he hated crossing water, like most of his kind. Perhaps even more than most.That Russian boy had insisted that Caitlin was in this direction. So he’d went with him, up the coast, along a highway. But then their search had ended in a harbor. The Russian had pointed out to the ocean. He had insisted that stupid girl, the source of all his trouble, was on the island.Kyle had gotten into such a rage, he hadn’t been able to control himself. Not only had this girl made him chase her up the entire East Coast, not only had she made him miss the war, but now she was forcing him to board a boat, to cross water. He had marched up to the first docked yacht he had seen, leapt on board, and had killed the entire crew on the spot. He’d thrown them all overboard, had hijacked their boat, and he and the Russian had taken of
When Caitlin and Caleb woke, it was night. They lay on the beach together, on the sand, on the warm night, and under the light of an enormous full moon.They still had the beach to themselves, and the sound of the crashing waves was all around them. They both lay there, awake, undressed, in each other’s arms, using their coats as a makeshift blanket. Rose lay beside them.They were both changed people.They stared into each other’s eyes. They rolled over and kissed each other again, slowly.Their relationship had changed forever. She had changed forever. And nothing made her happier.They were no longer two random people, friends, kept together by the same mission. They were now lovers. A couple. Together.Caitlin only hoped that it would last forever.There were so many questions she was burning to ask. Like, what now? He had crossed a line, forbidden for his race. What if they found him? Would they kill him? Had he risked it all for her? Was she really worth it?And now that
As Sam stood there, facing his father, his heart sank. He couldn’t believe it. While he’d been disappointed by the trailer park, by the mobile home, by the unkempt surroundings, nothing had prepared him for his disappointment upon seeing his Dad. All of his dreams came crashing down at once.His dad was a short, thin, frail man, maybe in his 50s, balding badly, with long stringy hair that draped down over one side of his head. He hadn’t shaved in days, and it looked like he’d slept in his clothes. His skin was covered in warts, and scarred by bad acne. He had small, beady black eyes, which darted about in his head. He stared back at Sam, looking not unlike a rat. In fact, his entire aura exuded sleaze. And he reeked. He probably hadn’t bathed in days.He looked nothing like Sam. And he looked nothing like the Dad that Sam had imagined he’d come from.Sam couldn’t fathom how he possibly had come from such a human being. He felt worse about himself than he ever had.Maybe he had the
Caitlin and Caleb flew over miles of dark woods as they crossed Martha’s Vineyard, heading into the late afternoon sun. She marveled at how big the island was. She had imagined it to be a small place, but as she looked down, she realized that it was massive. The Aquinnah cliffs, where they were heading, were on the far corner of the island, all the way on the other side. Even flying at Caleb’s speed, it would take a while.Caleb didn’t like to fly if other people were around, as he never wanted to draw undue attention to him or to the race. But the island was so deserted this time of year, that he had no qualms about flying them from one side to the other, especially over a patch of woods.Caitlin’s mind spun as she thought of the whaling church, and of the latest clue they’d found. It was not at all what she’d expected. She had guessed it might be another key. Instead, they’d found a scroll—a brittle, yellowing parchment, and torn in half, right down the middle. It had been obvious,
“Hey buddy, move out!” came the gruff voice.Kyle felt himself being kicked, then nudged with a baton.He opened his eyes.He was lying on a cold, hard surface, but had no idea where. Sunlight was creeping over the horizon, and it burned his eyes and skin.“Hey buddy, did you hear me? I said move it!” the cop yelled.Kyle opened his eyes fully now, and realized he’d been lying on marble. On the cold, marble steps of City Hall. He was outside, at daybreak, lying sprawled out, like a bum. He looked up and saw two uniformed policeman standing over him, poking and prodding him with their batons, smiling at each other.Kyle tried to remember what happened, how he’d got here. He remembered reporting to Rexius. Then being grabbed, being tied down. Then, the acid. He reached up and felt one side of his face, and it felt normal. Then he reached up and felt the other—and the pain came flooding back. He could feel the contours, the horrible scars, the disfiguration. They had branded him wit