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  It took every last ounce of Caitlin’s wil to look away. She would rather die of starvation than hurt another human.

  She looked around and wondered if there were a forest near here, a place she could hunt. While she had seen some occasional dirt roads and parks in the city, she hadn’t seen anything like a forest.

  At just that moment, the door to the bar burst open, and a man stumbled out of it—thrown out, actual y—by one of the wait staff. He cursed and screamed at them, clearly drunk.

  Then he turned and set his sights on Caitlin.

  He was wel built, and he looked at Caitlin with il intent.

  She felt herself tense up. She wondered again, desperately, whether any of her powers remained.

  She turned and walked away, walking faster, but she sensed the man fol owing her.

  Before she could turn, a second later, he grabbed her from behind, in a bear hug. He was faster and stronger than she had imagined, and she could smel his awful breath over her shoulder.

  But the man was also drunk. He stumbled, even as he held her, and Caitlin focused, remembered her training, and sidestepped and swept him, using one of the fighting techniques that Aiden had taught her on Pol epel. The man went flying, landing on his back.

  Caitlin suddenly had a flashback to Rome, of the Colosseum, of fighting on the stadium floor while being charged by multiple fighters. It was so vivid, for a moment, she forgot where she was.

  She snapped out of it just in time. The drunk man got up, stumbled, and charged her again.

  Caitlin waited to the last second, then sidestepped, and he went flying, fal ing flat on his own face.

  He was dazed, and before he could get up again, Caitlin hurried to get away. She was glad she had got the best of him, but the incident shook her. It worried her that she was stil having flashbacks of Rome. She also hadn’t felt her supernatural strength. She stil felt as frail as a human.

  The thought of that, more than anything else, scared her.

  She was truly on her own now.

  Caitlin looked al around, starting to feel frantic with worry about where to go, about what to do next. Her legs burned from the walking, and she began to feel a sense of despair.

  That was when she saw it. She looked up, and saw before her a huge hil . On top of that, sat a large, medieval abbey.

  For some reason she couldn’t explain, she felt drawn to it.

  The hil was daunting, but she didn’t see what other choice she had.

  Caitlin hiked up the entire hil , more tired than she’d just about ever been, and wishing she could fly.

  She final y reached the front doors of the abbey, and looked up at the massive, oak doors. This place looked ancient.

  She marveled at the fact that, though it was 1789, this church had already been around for what looked like thousands of years.

  She didn’t know why, but she felt drawn here. Seeing nowhere else to go, she got her courage up, and knocked softly.

  There was no response.

  Caitlin tried the knob and was surprised to find it open. She let herself in.

  The ancient door creaked open slowly, and it took a moment for Caitlin’s eyes to adjust to the cavernous, dark church. As she surveyed it, she was impressed by the scope and solemnity of the place. It was stil late at night, and this simple, austere, church, made entirely of stone, adorned in stained-glass windows, was lit by large candles, everywhere, burning low. At its far end sat a simple altar, around which were placed dozens more candles.

  Otherwise, it seemed empty.

  Caitlin wondered for a moment what she was doing here.

  Was there a special reason? Or had her mind just been playing tricks on her?

  A side door suddenly opened, and Caitlin spun.

  Walking towards her, Caitlin was surprised to see, was a nun—short, frail, dressed in flowing white robes, with a white hood. She walked slowly, and walked right up to Caitlin.

  She pul ed back her hood, looked up at her and smiled.

  She had large, shining blue eyes, and seemed too young to be a nun. As she smiled wide, Caitlin could feel the warmth coming off of her.

  She also sensed that she was one of hers: a vampire.

  “Sister Paine,” the nun said softly. “It is an honor to have you.”

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER TWO

  Her world felt surreal as the nun led Caitlin through the abbey, down a long corridor. It was a beautiful place, and it was clear that it was actively lived in, with nuns in white robes walking about, getting ready, it seemed, for the morning services. One of them swung a decanter as she went, spreading delicate incense, while others were chanting soft morning prayers.

  After several minutes of walking in silence, Caitlin began to wonder where the nun was leading her. Final y, they stopped before a single door. The nun opened it, revealing a smal , humble room, with a view overlooking Paris. It reminded Caitlin of the room she’d stayed in in that cloister in Siena.

  “On the bed, you’l find a change of clothing,” the nun said.

  “There is a wel in which to bathe, in our courtyard,” she said. She pointed, “and that is for you.”

  Caitlin fol owed her finger and saw a smal , stone pedestal in the corner of the room, on which sat a silver goblet, fil ed with a white liquid. The nun smiled back.

  “You have everything you need here for a fresh night’s sleep. After that, the choice is yours to make.”

  “Choice?” Caitlin asked.

  “I am told that you have one key already. You wil need to find the other three. The choice, though, of whether to fulfil your mission and continue on your journey is always yours.”

  “This is for you.”

  She reached out and handed Caitlin a cylindrical, silver case, covered in jewels.

  “It is a letter from your father. Just for you. We have been guarding it for centuries. It has never been opened.”

  Caitlin took it in awe, feeling its weight in her hand.

  “I do hope that you wil continue with your mission,” she said softly. “We need you, Caitlin.”

  The nun suddenly turned to go.

  “Wait!” Caitlin yel ed out.

  She stopped.

  “I’m in Paris, correct? In 1789?”

  The woman smiled back. “That is correct.”

  “But why? Why am I here? Why now? Why this place?”

  “I’m afraid that is for you to find out. I am but a simple servant.”

  “But why was I drawn to this church?”

  “You are in the Abbey of Saint Peter. In Montmartre,” the woman said. “It has been here for thousands of years. It is a very sacred place.”

  “Why?” Caitlin pressed.

  “This was the place in which everyone met to take their vows for the founding of the Society of Jesus. It is in this place that Christianity was born.”

  Caitlin stared back, speechless, and the nun final y smiled and said, “Welcome.”

  And with that, she bowed slightly, and walked away, closing the door gently behind her.

  Caitlin turned and surveyed the room. She was grateful for the hospitality, for the change of clothes, for the chance to bathe, for the comfortable bed that she saw lying in the corner. She didn’t think she could take one more step. In fact, she was so tired, she felt like she could sleep forever.

  Holding the bejeweled case, she walked to the corner of the room, and set it down. The scrol could wait. But her hunger couldn’t.

  She lifted the overflowing goblet and examined it. She could already sense what it contained: white blood.

  She put it to her lips and drank. It was sweeter than red blood and went down more easily—and it ran through her veins faster. Within moments, she felt reborn, and stronger than she’d ever had.

  She could have drank forever.

  Caitlin final y set down the empty goblet, and took the silver case with her to bed. She lay down, and realized how sore her legs were. It felt so good to just lay there.

&
nbsp; She leaned back and rested her head against the smal , simple pil ow, and closed her eyes, just for a second. She was resolved to open them in just a moment, and read her father’s letter.

  But the moment her eyes closed, an incredible exhaustion overcame her. She couldn’t open them again if she tried.

  Within seconds, she was fast asleep.

  *

  Caitlin stood on the floor of the Roman Colosseum, dressed in full battle gear, holding a sword. She was ready to challenge whoever attacked her—indeed, felt the urge to fight. But as she spun around, in every direction, she saw that the stadium was empty. She looked up at the saw that the stadium was empty. She looked up at the rows of seats, and saw that the entire place was vacant.

  Caitlin blinked, and when she opened her eyes, she was no longer in the Colosseum, but rather in the Vatican, in the Sistine Chapel. She still held her sword, but now was dressed in robes.

  She looked about the room and saw hundreds of vampires, lined up neatly, dressed in white robes, with glowing blue eyes. They stood patiently along the wall, silent, at perfect attention.

  Caitlin dropped her sword in the empty chamber, and it landed with a clink. She walked slowly towards the head priest, reached out, and took from him a huge silver goblet, filled with white blood. She drank, and the liquid overflowed and poured down her cheeks.

  Suddenly, Caitlin found herself alone in the desert. She was walking barefoot on the baked dirt, the sun beating down her, and she held a gigantic key in her hand. But the key was so big—unnaturally big—and the weight of it was pulling her down.

  She walked and walked, gasping for air in the heat, until finally, she came to a huge mountain. At the top of that mountain, she saw a man standing there, looking down, smiling.

  She knew it was her father.

  Caitlin broke into a sprint, running for all she was worth, trying to make it up the mountain, getting closer and closer to him. As she did, the sun grew higher, hotter in the sky, bearing down on her, seeming to come from right behind her father himself. It was as if he were the sun, and she were heading right into it.

  Her ascent grew hotter, higher, and she gasped for breath as she got close. He stood with his arms are outstretched, waiting to embrace her.

  But the hill became steeper and she was just too tired.

  She couldn’t go any further. She collapsed where she was.

  Caitlin blinked, and when she opened her eyes, she saw her father standing over her, leaning down, a warm smile on his face.

  “Caitlin,” he said. “My daughter. I’m so proud of you.”

  She tried to reach out, to hold him, but the key was now on top of her, and it was too heavy, pinning her down.

  She looked up at him, trying to talk, but her lips were cracked and her throat was too parched.

  “Caitlin?”

  “Caitlin?”

  Caitlin opened her eyes with a start, disoriented.

  She looked up, and saw a man sitting on her bedside, looking down at her, smiling.

  He reached over, and gently brushed the hair out of her eyes.

  Was this stil a dream? She felt the cool sweat on her forehead, felt his touch on her wrist, and she prayed that it was not.

  Because there before her, smiling down, was the love of her life.

  Caleb.

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER THREE

  Sam opened his eyes with a start. He was staring up at the sky, looking up the trunk of an enormous oak tree. He blinked several times, wondering where he was.

  He felt something soft on his back, and it felt very comfortable, and he looked over and realized he was lying on a patch of moss on the forest floor. He looked back up, and saw dozens of trees high above him, swaying in the wind. He heard a gurgling sound, and looked over, and saw a stream trickling by, just a few feet from his head.

  Sam sat up and looked around, glancing in every direction, taking it al in. He was deep in the woods, alone, the only light coming in through the tree branches. He checked himself and saw that he was ful y dressed, in the same battle gear he had been wearing in the Colosseum. It was quiet here, the only sound being that of the stream, of the birds, and of some distant animals.

  Sam realized, with relief, that the time travel had worked.

  He was clearly in some other place and time—although where and when that was, he had no idea.

  Sam slowly checked his body, and realized he’d sustained no major injuries, and that he was al in one piece. He felt a terrible hunger gnawing at his stomach, but he could live with that. First, he had to figure out where he was.

  He reached down, feeling to see if he had any weaponry on him.

  Unfortunately, none of it had made the trip. He was on his own again, left to the devices of just his own bare hands.

  He wondered if he stil carried a vampire’s power. He could feel an unnatural strength stil coursing through his veins, and it felt like he had. But then again, he couldn’t be sure until the time came.

  And that time came sooner than he thought.

  Sam heard the snap of a branch, and turned to see a large bear hulking towards him, slowly, aggressively. He froze. It glowered at him, raised its fangs, and snarled.

  A second later, it broke into a sprint, charging right for him.

  There was no time for Sam to run, and nowhere for him to run to. He had no choice, he realized, but to confront this animal.

  But strangely enough, instead of being overcome by fear, Sam felt rage course through him. He was furious at the animal. He resented being attacked, especial y before he even had a chance to get his bearings. So, without thinking, Sam charged, too, preparing to meet the bear in battle, the same way he would a human.

  Sam and the bear met in the middle. The bear lunged for him, and Sam lunged right back. Sam felt the power coursing through his veins, felt it tel ing him that he was invincible.

  As he met the bear in mid-air, he realized that he was right.

  He caught the bear by its shoulders, grabbed on, spun and threw it. The bear went flying backwards through the woods, dozens of feet, smashing hard into a tree.

  Sam stood there and roared back at the bear, a fierce roar, even louder than the animal’s. He felt the muscles and veins bulging in him as he did.

  The bear got to its feet slowly, wobbly, and looked at Sam with something like shock. It now hobbled as it walked, and after taking a few tentative steps, it suddenly lowered its head, turned, and ran away.

  But Sam wasn’t going to let it get away so easy. He was mad now, and he felt like nothing in the world could abate his anger. And he was hungry. The bear would have to pay.

  Sam broke into a sprint, and was pleased to find that he was faster than this animal. Within moments, he caught up to it and in a single leap, landed on its back. He leaned back, and sunk his fangs deep into its neck.

  The bear howled in agony, bucking wildly, but Sam held on.

  He sunk his fangs deeper, and within moments, he felt the bear slumped to its knees beneath him. Final y, it stopped moving.

  Sam lay on top of it, drinking, feeling its life force course through his veins.

  Final y, Sam leaned back and licked his lips, dripping with blood. He’d never felt so refreshed. It was exactly the meal he’d needed.

  Sam was just rising back to his feet, when he heard another twig snap.

  He looked over, and standing there, in a clearing of the forest, was a young girl, maybe 17, dressed in a thin, al -

  white material. She stood there, holding a basket, and stared back at him, in shock. Her skin was translucent white, and her long, light brown hair framed large, blue eyes. She was beautiful.

  She stared back at Sam, equal y transfixed.

  He realized that she must be afraid of him, afraid that maybe he would attack her; he realized that he must have looked like an awful sight, on top of a bear, blood in his mouth. He didn’t want to scare her.

  So he jumped down from the animal, and took several steps
towards her.

  To his surprise, she didn’t flinch, or try to move away.

  Rather, she just continued to stare at him, unafraid.

  “Don’t worry,” he said. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

  She smiled. That surprised him. Not only was she beautiful, but she was truly unafraid. How could that be?

  “Of course you’re not,” she said. “You’re one of mine.”

  It was Sam’s turn to be shocked. The second she said it, he knew it to be true. He had sensed something when he’d first seen her, and now he knew. She was one of his. A vampire. That’s why she was unafraid.

  “Nice takedown,” she said, gesturing at the bear. “A little messy, wouldn’t you say? Why not go for a deer?”

  Sam smiled. Not only was she pretty—she was funny.

  “Maybe next time I wil ,” he said back.

  She smiled.

  “Would you mind tel ing me what year it is?” he asked. “Or century, at least?”

  She just smiled, and shook her head.

  “I think I’l leave that for you to find out for yourself. If I told you, it would ruin al the fun, wouldn’t it?”

  Sam liked her. She was spunky. And he felt at ease around her, as if he’d known her forever.

  She took a step forward, and reached out her hand. Sam took it, and loved the feel of her smooth, translucent skin.

  “I’m Sam,” he said, shaking her hand, holding it for too long.

  She smiled wider.

  “I know,” she said.

  Sam was baffled. How could she possibly know? Had he met her before? He couldn’t remember.

  “I was sent for you,” she added.

  She suddenly turned and began heading down a forest trail.

  Sam hurried to catch up to her, presuming she meant for him to fol ow. Not looking careful y were he was going, he was embarrassed to find himself trip over a branch; he heard her giggling as he did.