{KYLE’S POV}Kyle walked straight down the stone corridor, flanked by a small entourage of vampires. They headed quickly down the hall, their footsteps echoing, one of his aides holding a torch out in front.They were heading deep into the corridor of command, a subterranean chamber which no vampire ever entered unless given permission. Kyle had never been down this deep before. But on this day, he was summoned by the supreme leader himself. It must have been serious. In 4,000 years, Kyle had never been summoned. But he had heard of otthers who had. They had gone down there, and had not come back up.Kyle swallowed hard, and walked faster. He had always believed that it was best to greet bad news quickly, and get it over with.They came to a large, open door, guarded by several vampires, who stared coldly back. Finally, they stepped aside and opened the door. But after Kyle passed, they held out their staffs, preventing his entourage from following. Kyle felt the door slam behi
{JONAH’S POV}Jonah sat in the police station, very afraid. On one side of him sat his dad, looking more nervous than Jonah had ever seen him, and on the other, his newly-hired lawyer. Across from them, in the small, bright, interrogation, sat five police detectives. Behind them stood five more, all pacing and agitated.It was the biggest news story of the day. Not only had an internationally-acclaimed vocalist been murdered, right during his debut performance, right in Carnegie Hall—not only had he been murdered in a suspicious way, but things had managed to get even worse. When the police followed up on the only lead they had, when they had visited her apartment, four policemen were killed. To say that things had escalated was to put it mildly.Now, not only were they after the “Beethoven Butcher” (or “Carnegie Hall Killer,” as some papers were calling her) but they were also after a cop killer. A four-cop killer. Every cop in the city was on the case, and no one would rest unti
{JONAH’S POV}Jonah debated with himself over how much to tell them. Of course, there was more. There was his getting beat up by those bullies. There was her journal, lying mysteriously beside him. His suspicion that she had been there. That she had helped him. That she had even beat up those guys somehow. How, he had no idea.But what was he supposed to tell these cops? That he had gotten himself beat up? That he thinks he remembered seeing her there? That he thinks he remembered seeing her beat up four guys twice her size? None of it made any sense, not even to him. It certainly wouldn’t make sense to them. They would just think he was lying, making stuff up. They were out for her. And he wasn’t going to help.Despite everything, he felt protective of her. He couldn’t really understand what had happened. A part of him didn’t believe it, didn’t want to believe it. Had she really killed that vocalist? Why? Were there really two holes in his neck, like the newspapers said? Had sh
I checked my phone again. It was one a.m., and I had just texted Jonah. No response. He was probably asleep. Or if awake, he probably wouldn’t even want to hear from me. But it was the only thing that I could think of doing.As I walked away from the Cloisters, in the fresh, night air, my head started to clear. The further I got from that place, the better I felt. Caleb’s presence, his energy, slowly lifted from me, and I began to feel like I could think clearly again.When I had been with him, for some reason I’d been unable to think clearly for myself. His presence had been all-consuming. I’d found it impossible to think of anything, or anyone, else.Now that I was on my own again, and away from him, thoughts of Jonah flooded back to me. I felt guilty for liking Caleb at all—felt like somehow I had betrayed Jonah. Jonah had been so kind to me in school, so good to me on our date. I wondered how he felt about me now, running out like that. He probably hated me.I walked through Fo
When I woke, it was morning. I could feel more than see the sunlight striking me, and I groggily raised my head to get my bearings. I felt cold stone touching the skin of my arms and forehead. Where was I?As I raised my head and looked around, I realized I was in Central Park. I remembered now that I had stopped along the way, sometime during the night, to take a rest. I had been so tired, so weary. I must have fallen asleep sitting up, leaning over and resting my arms and head on the marble railing.It was already mid-morning, and people streamed through the park. One lady, with her young daughter, walked by and gave me a strange look. She pulled her daughter close as they passed.I sat up straighter, and looked around. A few people stared at me, and I wondered what they must have thought. I looked down at my dirty clothes. They were covered in grime. At this point, I didn’t really care. I just wanted to get out this city, this place which I associated with everything going wrong.
I slowly lowered my arms, turned, and placed my arms behind my back. I could feel the cop grab me tightly around one wrist, then the other, jerking my arms behind me too roughly, too high, using unnecessary force. How petty. I felt the cold clasp of the handcuffs, and could feel the metal cut into my skin.The cop grabbed me by the back of head, squeezed my hair, way too tight, and leaned in close, putting his mouth beside my ear. He whispered, “You’re going to fry.”And then it happened.The agony returned.My body stretched and pulled, and before I knew it, the smell kicked in.And then came my primal roar.I was a wolf now.The cops stood there, and stared. All in horror.And then, just as quickly, I felt my body change back.To human.But a million times more powerful.Before I knew what was happening, there was a sickening noise of crunching bone, followed by the splatter of blood—and the feel and smell of warm blood all over my face.I heard shouting, and screaming, a
He’s gorgeous.I sat on the straw floor in the barn, feeling so relaxed, and was overwhelmed with feelings as I stared at the sleeping Caleb.He reclined across from me, about fifteen feet away, so perfectly still. He was sleeping, and I took the opportunity to study his face, his perfect features, his pale, translucent skin. I had never seen features so perfectly chiseled. It was surreal, like staring at a sculpture. I couldn’t fathom how he had been alive for 3,000 years.At 18, I already looked older than he did.But it was more than his features. There was an air about him, a subtle energy that he exuded. A great sense of peace. When I was around him, I knew that everything would be all right.For the first time in weeks, I felt relaxed. Sitting comfortably on the floor of the small barn in the Hudson Valley, I leaned back against a bale of hay, and exhaled. A small fire raged in the stone fireplace about ten feet away. Tonight had been especially cold. Outside, the snow fell.
Caleb rested a hand gently on my shoulder. He smiled down and looked at me.I braced myself for bad news.“I think you fell asleep,” he said.I sighed, so relieved. He wasn’t leaving after all.I looked around, saw my open journal on my lap and snapped it closed. I felt my cheeks flush, hoping he hadn’t read any of it. Especially the part about my feelings for him.I sat up and rubbed my eyes. It was still night, and the fire was still going, although it was down to embers. He must have just woken, too. I wondered how long I had been asleep. “Sorry,” I said. “It’s the first I’ve slept in days.”He stood there, staring down at the fire, and his smile slowly faded as he seemed to become lost in his thoughts. As he looked into the flames, his face was lit with a warm glow, making him look even more attractive, if that were possible. His large, light brown eyes opened wide, and as I watched him, they changed color to a light green.I sat up straighter, and saw that my glass of red
“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