Caitlin thought hard, and slowly, but surely, the details flooded back. Boston. The Freedom Trail. The King’s Chapel. The sword. Then…being attacked. Then…
Caleb. He had been there, looking down at her. She had felt her world slipping away, and she had asked him. Turn me, she had pleaded.…
Caitlin raised her hands and felt the two marks on the side of her throat, and she knew that he had listened.
That explained everything. Caitlin stood with a start, with the realization. She had been turned.
She had been taken somewhere, probably for recovery, probably under Caleb’s watchful gaze. She tested her arms and legs, twisted her neck, tested her body….
She felt different, that was for sure. She was not herself anymore. She felt unlimited strength coursing through her. A desire to run, to sprint, to break through walls, to leap into the air. She also felt something else: two slight bulges on her back, behind her shoulder blades. Very subtle, but she knew they were there. Wings. She knew, she felt, that if she wanted to fly, they would open up for her.
Caitlin fell intoxicated by her newfound strength. She wanted desperately to test it. She felt so cooped up—she had no idea how long she had been here—and she wanted to see what this new life could be like. She also felt something else that was new: a sense of recklessness. A sense that she could not die. That she could make stupid mistakes, that she had infinite lives to play with. She wanted to push things to the edge.
Caitlin turned and looked out the window, at the night sky. The window was shaped in a wide arch, with no glass, and was open to the elements. The sort of thing one might see in an old, medieval cloister.
In the past, the old, human Caitlin would have hesitated, would have thought about what she was about to do, would have second-guessed herself. But the re-born Caitlin felt no hesitation.
Practically the second after she thought it, she took off at a sprint, right for it.
With just a few short strides, Caitlin jumped up onto the window sill and dove out into the open air.
Some part of her, some instinct, told her that once she was airborne, her wings would sprout. If she were wrong, it would mean a serious plummet, hundreds of feet down to the earth. But the re-born Caitlin didn’t feel as if she could ever be wrong.
And she wasn’t. As Caitlin leapt out into the night, her wings sprouted out from behind her shoulder blades, and she felt the exhilarating thrill of flying, of gliding through the air. She was delighted to feel how wide and long her wings were, thrilled to feel the fresh, night air washing over her face, hair, and body. It was nighttime, but the moon was so full and so big, it lit up the night almost as if it were day.
Caitlin looked down and was afforded a bird’s-eye view. She had sensed water, and she had been right. She was on an island. All around her, in every direction, there stretched a huge, beautiful river, its waters very still and lit up by the moonlight. It was the widest river she had ever seen. And there, in the middle of it, was the tiny island on which she’d slept. A small island, hardly more than a few dozen acres, one end of it was dominated by a crumbling, Scottish castle, half in ruin. The rest of the island was completely consumed by a thick forest.
As Caitlin flew in the air, up and down on the wind currents, turning and swooping and diving, she circled the island again. The castle was huge, magnificent. Parts of it were crumbling, but other parts, those hidden from outside view, in the interior, were perfectly intact. There were inner courtyards and outer courtyards, ramparts, turrets, winding staircases, and acres and acres of gardens. It was large enough to hold a small army.
As she dove, she saw that the interior of the castle was lit with torches. And there were people milling about. Vampires? Her senses told her that they were. Her own kind. They were walking about, interacting with each other. Some them were training, sword fighting, playing games. The island was abuzz with activity. Who were these people? Why was she here? Had they taken her in?
As Caitlin finished her circle, she saw the room she had leapt from. She had been staying at the top of the highest tower, opening up onto a huge rampart, a wide, open terrace. On it, there stood a single, lone vampire. Caitlin did not have to fly any closer to know who that vampire was. She knew it already, in her very heart and soul. His blood now ran through her, and she loved him with all her heart. And now that he’d turned her, she loved him with something even more than love. She knew, even from this far distance, that the loan figure pacing outside her room was Caleb.
Her heart soared at the sight of him. He was here. He was really here. Standing there, waiting, right outside her room. He must have been waiting for her to recover. All this time.
Who knew how much time had passed? He had never left her side. Even with all that had happened, all that was going on now. She loved him more than she could say. And now, they would be together for eternity.
He stood there, leaning over the ramparts, looking down at the river, looking both concerned and sad.
Caitlin dove right towards him, hoping to surprise him, to impress him with her newfound skill.
Caleb looked up, shocked, and his face lit with joy.
But as Caitlin came in for a landing, something suddenly went wrong. She felt herself losing her balance, losing coordination. She felt as if she were coming in too fast, and she couldn’t correct it in time. As she came in over the ramparts, she scraped her knee on the stone and landed too hard, taking a hard role on the stone.
“Caitlin!” Caleb exclaimed, running over to her.
Caitlin lay on the hard stone, feeling a new aching pain running up her leg. She was fine. If she had been the old Caitlin, merely a human, she would have broken several bones. But as this new Caitlin, she knew she would bounce back, recover from it quickly, within minutes probably.
But she was embarrassed. She had wanted to surprise and impress Caleb. Now she looked like an idiot.
“Caitlin?” he asked again, kneeling by her side, laying a hand of her shoulder. “Are you okay?”
She looked at him, grinning sheepishly.
“Some way to impress you,” she said, feeling like a fool.
He ran a hand along the side of her leg, checking her injury.
“I’m not human anymore,” she snapped. “You don’t have to worry about me.”
She immediately regretted her words, and her tone. It had come out like an accusation, almost as if she regretted being turned. And she hadn’t meant to take a harsh tone. On the contrary, she loved his touch, loved the fact that he was still so protective. She had wanted to thank him, to say all this and more, but as usual, she screwed it up, and said exactly the wrong thing at the wrong time.