{DETECTIVE GRANT’S POV}Detective Grant was shocked not because the crime scene was particularly bloody. Not because some horrific violence had taken place. It was something else. Something surreal.It was too quiet. Everything was in perfect place. Except, of course, for the body. He sat slumped backwards in his chair, his neck exposed. And there, under the light, were two perfect holes, right in his jugular vein.No blood. No signs of struggle. No torn clothing. Nothing else out of place. It was as if a bat had descended, sucked his blood perfectly clean, then flew away, without touching anything else. It was eerie. And outright terrifying. If his skin hadn’t turned completely white, she would have thought he was still alive, just taking a nap. She even felt tempted to go over and feel his pulse. But she knew that would be stupid.Sergei Rakov. He was young. And from what she’d heard, he’d been an arrogant prick. Could he already have had enemies?What in hell could have done
{KYLE’S POV}Kyle walked down the red carpeted hallways, strutting through the thick crowd. He was annoyed, as usual. He hated crowds, and he hated Carnegie Hall. He had been to a concert here once, in the 1890s, and it had not gone well. He did not release a grudge easily.As he marched down the hall, the high collars of his black tunic covering his neck and framing his face, people made way for him. Officers, security guards, press agents – the entire crowd parted ways.Humans are too easy to control, he thought. The slightest bit of mindbending, and they scurry out of the way like sheep.A vampire of the Blacktide Coven, Kyle had seen it all in his 3,000 plus years. He had been there when they killed Christ. He had witnessed the French Revolution. He had watched smallpox spread across Europe—and had even helped it spread. There was nothing left that could surprise them.But this night surprised him. And he did not like to be surprised.Normally, he would just let his usual
I woke to burning pain. My skin felt on fire, and when I tried to open my eyes, a stabbing pain forced them shut. It exploded into my skull.I kept my eyes closed, and instead used my hands to feel around. I was lying on top of something. It felt soft, yet firm. Uneven. It couldn’t be a mattress. I ran her fingers along it. It felt like plastic.I opened my eyes, more slowly this time, and peeked down at my hands. Plastic. Black plastic. And that smell. What was it? I turned my head just a little, opened my eyes a little more, and then I realized. I was sprawled out, on my back, on a pile of garbage bags. I craned my neck. I was inside a dumpster.I sat up with a start. The pain exploded, my neck and head splitting with pain. The stench was unbearable. I looked around, eyes open now, and was horrified. How the hell had I wound up here?I rubbed my forehead, trying to piece together the events that got me here. I drew a blank. I tried to remember last night. I used all my force of w
I stood outside my building and looked up apprehensively. It was sunset now, and the light didn’t bother me as much. In fact, as night approached, I felt stronger with each passing hour.I bounded up the five-story walkup with lightning speed, surprising myself. I took the steps three at a time, and my legs weren’t even tired. I couldn’t fathom what was happening to my body. Whatever it was, I loved it.My good mood dimmed as I approached the apartment door. My heart began to pound, as I wondered if my mom would be home. How would she react?But as I reached for the doorknob, I was surprised to see that the door was already open, slightly ajar. My foreboding increased. Why would it be open?I walked tentatively into the apartment, the wood creaking beneath my feet. I slowly stepped through the foyer and into the living room.As I entered I turned my head—and suddenly raised my hands to my mouth in shock. A horrible wave of nausea hit me. I turned and vomited.It was my mom. Lying
The three wheeled and stared at the cops.They then, slowly, walked towards them, completely unafraid.“I said FREEZE!”The leader kept walking, and the cop fired. The noise was deafening.But, amazingly, the leader didn’t even stop. He smiled even wider, simply reached out his hand, and caught the bullet in midair. I was shocked to see that he stopped it in mid-air, in his palm. He then held up his hand, slowly made a fist and crushed it. He opened his hand, and the dust slowly poured out onto the floor.The cops, too, stared back in shock, mouths open.The leader grinned even wider, reached out and grabbed the cop’s shotgun. He yanked it from him, wound up and struck the cop across the face. The cop went flying backwards, knocking over several of his men.I had seen enough.Without hesitating, I turned, opened the window and climbed through. I jumped onto the fire escape and raced down the rickety, rusted steps.I ran for all I was worth, twisting and turning. The old fire e
Where the hell was I?I woke to complete blackness. I felt a cold, metal pain on my wrists and ankles, and my limbs were sore. I realized I was chained. Standing. My arms were outstretched, by my sides, and I tried to move them, but they didn’t budge. Neither did my feet. I heard a rattle as I tried, and felt the cold, hard metal dig harder into my wrists and ankles.I opened my eyes wider, heart pounding, trying to get a feel for where I was. It was cold. I was still dressed, but barefoot, and I could feel cold stone beneath my feet. I also felt stone along my back. I was up against a wall. Chained to a wall.I looked hard about the room and tried to make something out. But the blackness was absolute. I was cold. And thirsty. I swallowed, and my throat was dry.I tugged for all I was worth, but even with my newfound strength, the chains did not budge. I was completely stuck.I tried with all my power to change back into a wolf.But nothing happened.I had no idea how it worked.
“Forgive these harsh accommodations,” the man said, running his hand along the thick metal chain that held me to the wall. “We’d be more than happy to let you go,” he said, “if only you would answer a few questions.”I looked back, unsure what to say.“I will begin. My name is Kyle. I am Deputy Leader of the Blacktide Coven,” he paused. “Your turn.”“I don’t know what you want from me,” I answered.“To start with, your coven. Who do you belong to? Or shall I say…your pack? Which is it?”I wracked my brain, trying to figure out if I had lost my mind. Was I imagining all of this? I thought I must be stuck in some sort of sick dream. But I felt the very real cold steel on my wrists and ankles, and knew I was not. I had no idea what to tell this man. What was he talking about? Coven? As in…vampire?Pack? As in werewolf?“I don’t belong to anyone,” I said.He stared for a long while, then slowly shook his head. “As you wish. We have dealt with rogues before. It’s always the same
When they opened the oak door, I could not believe my eyes. The room was enormous. Shaped in a huge circle, it was lined with hundred-foot-tall stone columns, ornately decorated. It was well lit, torches placed every 5 feet, all throughout the room. It looked like the Pantheon. It looked ancient.As I was led in, the next thing I noticed was the noise. It was a huge crowd. I looked around and saw hundreds, if not thousands, of men and women dressed in black, moving quickly all about the room. There was a strangeness to how they moved: it was so fast, so random, so…inhuman. I heard a swooshing noise, and looked up. Dozens of these people leapt, or flew, through the room, going from floor to ceiling, from ceiling to balcony, from column to ledge. That was the whooshing noise I had heard. It was as if I had entered a cave full of bats.I took it all in and was completely, utterly, shocked. Vampires did exist. Was I one of them?Or was I a werewolf?Or was I somehow…both?They led
“NO!” sobbed Caleb, as he turned to me, rushing to my side.Caleb was so distracted, he did not see Sergei, standing over us, holding the bloody sword, pleased at his work, grinning an evil grin.“You killed me before my time,” he snarled down at me. “Now I have returned the favor.”Sergei suddenly raced off, darting down the aisle of the church.Kyle scurried to his feet and raced after him, and out the front door.As they ran past her, Samantha regained consciousness, and in one quick motion, she grabbed a hold of the unconscious Sam, hoisted him over her shoulder, and bounded off after them.The church was now empty, save for me and Caleb. And Rose, lying off to the side, whimpering, bleeding.“Caitlin!” Caleb cried, as he held my shoulders. He leaned over me, caressing my face, and I could feel the tears streaming down his cheeks.He had been too shocked by seeing me hurt to even think of the sword. He knew, somewhere in the back of his mind, that the others had left the bu
{SAMANTHA’S POV}Samantha screeched the BMW to a halt right front of the King’s Chapel. Abandoning the car in the middle of the road, she jumped out. Sam, following her, jumped out the other side.Horns blared.“Hey lady, you can’t park there!” yelled a cop, approaching her.Samantha reached up and brought her fist down on his nose, smashing it and causing him to drop to his knees, unconscious. Before he could hit the ground, she reached out and grabbed the gun from his holster.Sam stood there, gaping, in shock.“Holy shit—” he began to say.But before he could finish, she grabbed him in a chokehold and picked him up off the ground.Before he knew what was happening, she had him in the air, carrying him up the steps and through the door of the King’s Chapel.“Samantha!” he tried to yell. “What are you—”Dragging Sam, she kicked open the church door with one foot and raced inside.“DON’T MOVE!” Samantha shrieked.Samantha stood there, in the aisle of the King’s Chapel, ho
As we entered the empty church, Caleb quickly shut the massive door behind us. It slammed with a bang, reverberating. The church was closed and the door had been locked, but he had broken it with his sheer strength. Now we had the place to ourselves.As we walked into the beautiful, small chapel, the sunset light poured in through its stained-glass windows, and I felt immediately at peace. It was a cozy and elegant place, its pews segmented into family boxes and all lined with red velvet. Perfectly preserved. I felt as if I’d stepped into another century. Caleb walked up beside me, and the two of us slowly looked around. A stillness hung in the air.“It’s here,” he said. “I can feel it,” he said.And for the first time, I could feel it, too.I noticed that I was beginning to sense things more strongly, and I could sense the sword’s presence here. It electrified me. I didn’t know what excited me more: that the sword was here, or that I could sense it on my own.I set Rose down be
As Caleb and I 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, I thought. It all makes perfect sense.As we walked, I marveled at the fact that we had walked, this entire time, in the shape of a cross, as if they had been led by some invisible hand.I felt my heart beating faster. I was nervous to finally meet my father, if he was alive. And nervous to see his grave, if he should be dead. I wasn’t sure how I would react either way. But I was also excited, relieved to at last know exactly who he was, where I came from. I was excited to know what my lineage was, and what my destiny would be.I was also nervous that this would mean the end between me and Caleb. What if we really found the sword? What would he do then? Would he go and wage his war? Save his coven? And where would that leave me?The two of us held hands as they walked toward
{SAMANTHA’S POV}Samantha raced the BMW on the outskirts of Boston, Sam in the passenger seat beside her, heading along the highway towards Salem. She was increasingly annoyed at the growing difficulty in finding his dad. She’d been sure, when she’d seen those Facebook messages, when Sam had told her with such excitement that he’d been in touch with him, that this would be easy. She would just take him to his dad’s house, and from there it would be a direct path to the sword.But things had gotten complicated. She hadn’t expected to encounter that creep, and most of all, hadn’t expected to develop any feelings for Sam. It was complicating things. Making her less sharp. Her original plan had been so simple: find his dad, kill them both, and return with the sword. Now she wasn’t sure she wanted to kill Sam at all. Especially as she looked over at him, and saw that fresh scar on his cheek, the reminder of how he’d tried to save her.More than anything, she was mad at herself for that
We walked quickly down Washington Street, and within moments we stood outside the Meeting House Church. It was another perfectly restored, historic church.We entered, and were stopped by an attendant.“I’m afraid we just closed,” she said. “This is a working museum. It’s five o’clock,” she said. “But feel free to come back tomorrow.”Caleb turned to me, and I could feel what he was thinking. He wanted me to test out my mind power on this woman.I stared at her, locking eyes, and sent a mental suggestion. She would let them in. She would make an exception for them.The woman suddenly stared back at me. She blinked.Suddenly, she said, “You know what? You two seem like such a nice couple. I’ll make an exception for you. But don’t tell anyone,” she said with a wink.I turned to Caleb and smiled, and the two of us walked inside.The church was beautiful. It was another huge, open space, with massive windows in every direction, and filled with wooden pews, all empty. We had the pla
As Caleb and I left the park, turning down Court Street and heading into the heart of the historic district of Boston, the old Statehouse came into view. It was a large, brick building, perfectly preserved from the 1700s, with multiple historic windows and topped by a large, white cupola. It was stunning in its simplicity and beauty.As we reached its base, we walked around the structure, looking for the site of the Boston massacre. Finally, as we turned the corner, we saw it.We both stopped in our tracks.It was a ring. A perfect circle.The spot marking the Boston massacre was small, hardly bigger than a manhole cover. We came close and examined it.It held no special markings. It was just a humble circle, made up of small tile, embedded in the ground at the base of the Old State House.“It makes sense,” Caleb said. “We are definitely on the right trail.”“Why?”“That balcony, above it,” he said, gesturing. “That’s where the Declaration of Independence was first read.”I l
Caleb and I 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. I stood beside him, holding out both halves of the ancient scroll.“Read it again,” he said.I squinted to make out the words. I 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 the vampire race.
{SAM’S POV}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 d