Most of all, would he love her? Be proud of for? In her dreams, she felt that he was. But this was real life. Would it be the same?
She also felt nervous about Blake. Just being with him, holding his hand, walking down the streets of Florence, she felt so at peace, at ease. She had been so heartbroken over Caleb, and now it felt so good to have a man by her side.
But it had all happened so fast, and it was so hard to think clearly around him, and she still couldn’t quite sort it all out in her mind. Did she love Blake for who he was? Or did she only love him now because of what had just happened with Caleb? She wanted to get clear, to know that she truly loved him for him; but given her current state of emotions, it was so hard to tell.
Whatever it was that they had together, she didn’t want it to end. At least for the moment, it felt right. She wanted him by her side.
But as they continued walking through the majestic streets of Florence, each block more romantic than the next, she couldn’t help but worry that this would all soon come to an end. She wanted to freeze this moment, to make it last—but she knew that, like everything else in her life, it could not. She feared for what could happen next. What if her father really was there? What about Blake? Would he stay? And did he plan on sticking around? Or flying back to Venice? She was afraid to ask him. She didn’t want to know the answer.
But in the back of her mind, she suspected that she already knew: nothing could last forever.
They were on a beautiful, amazing journey together, but eventually, she feared, she would find what she was looking for, and he would have to go back home. When or how they parted ways, she didn’t want to contemplate right now. She just wanted it to last. She wanted so badly for everything to last.
And this tainted her enjoyment of the moment. She wished she could push all of her worries out of her mind, and just enjoy the moment, just enjoy the beautiful weather, the breeze, walking down the idyllic streets of Florence. And she did enjoy it. But not as fully as she would have liked. She couldn’t help feeling as if she were just in the eye of the storm.
She also felt worried because, for the first time in a long while, she felt at home. As much as she had disliked Venice, she loved Florence. It felt so comfortable, with its red tiled roofs everywhere, its abundance of art, its amazing architecture, fountains, rivers, bridges….For the first time since she’d come back in time, she felt really at peace, at home. She wanted to live here. She wanted to settle down, in one place, one neighborhood, one time. She wanted one family, one husband, to call home. Would this all be taken away?
As they turned down another side street, it opened up into a huge square, with a sign that read
“Santa Croce.” It was one of the bigger squares in Florence, sprawling for hundreds of feet, and lined with stores and cafés. It was dominated by a huge church, nearly as big as the Duomo, with similar coloring. It rose up in a distinctive shape. She recognized it immediately from the image on the doors. This was it.
“The church of Santa Croce,” Blake said, looking at it. “A very special place. It is the burial ground for many luminaries, including Michelangelo and Galileo. It is also home to a cloister.”
Caitlin felt more sure than she ever had. Whatever secrets she was searching for, she would find behind those doors.
They circled it, taking note of all the entrances. As they walked behind it, Caitlin saw that the structure stretched backwards for hundreds of feet, and saw, attached to it, the cloister.
“Our kind once lived here, for thousands of years,” Blake said. “It is a very special place.”
“And now?” Caitlin asked, her heart beating. She wondered if her father was living there now.
“I don’t think so,” Blake answered. “I believe it was abandoned centuries ago.”
Caitlin found a large, arched door leading to the cloister. She reached up, grabbed the metal ring and knocked. The sound reverberated throughout the courtyard.
She tried to open the door, but it didn’t give.
She looked over at Blake and he nodded back. She looked both ways, then leaned back and kicked it in. The door went flying open. They hurried inside, and she closed it behind them.
It was dark in here, lit only by the sunlight streaming in through a small window. It took a moment for Caitlin’s eyes to adjust. Once they did, she saw how beautiful it was. Like most cloisters she had been in, it was made of simple stone, with low arched ceilings, a courtyard, and open-air arched windows all along its side. A narrow corridor ran along the courtyard.
As they walked it, Caitlin looked at the interior, rectangular courtyard, lined with neatly trimmed grass. On all four sides of it were arched walls, so typical of cloisters. It was tranquil, very serene, and very empty. She felt like they had the place to themselves.
“It’s empty,” Caitlin said with disappointment. “I don’t sense my father’s presence. I don’t sense anyone.”
They walked down another corridor. As they walked, Caitlin noticed how much it felt like the cloisters in New York, and the cloisters on Isola di San Michele. They were all so medieval, so spare, so empty.
“I’m sorry,” Blake said, finally. “He’s not here.”
Caitlin sighed as she surveyed the walls, looking for any sign. Nothing.
“I’ve heard rumors of this place,” Blake said. “A very powerful coven lived here once. Centuries ago. Maybe your father was a member.”
“Maybe,” Caitlin said, looking around for any possible clue.
Finally, she realized there was nothing more to find here.
“Let’s see the church,” she said.
*
As Caitlin entered the main church of Santa Croce, she felt a wave of energy. She closed her eyes and felt a tingling in her hands and feet, felt an almost palpable electricity in the air. She was positive that whatever it was she was meant to find was in this room.
“What’s wrong?” Blake asked.
She stood there, frozen, and slowly opened her eyes.
“It’s here,” she said. “Whatever he wants me to find. It’s in this room.”
Blake surveyed the room with a new sense of wonder. So did Caitlin.
The church of Santa Croce was a remarkable feat of architecture. It was the largest that Caitlin had ever entered. The main room was hundreds of feet long, with a ceiling hundreds of feet high.
The enormous room was lined with gigantic columns, and all along its walls were painted beautiful frescoes. The floor was marble, and enormous stained-glass windows allowed in a beautiful, fractured light.
As she walked along the edge of the room, she look closely at the walls, in amazement. Lodged into it, in small alcoves, were sarcophagi. Elaborately carved, these sarcophagi look much like the ones she had seen in the cloisters in New York. They looked like a perfect resting place for a coven of vampires, and she could imagine, back in time, their living here. Indeed, as she looked at them now, she almost felt as if vampires would rise from each one of them.
But as she walked, what really struck her was the floor. There, in the distance, was a series of shapes, protruding from the floor. As she got close, she could see that it was a cluster of tombs, embedded in the floor, marble shapes of human beings, supine, rising up from the floor itself. It was as if the floor were a living graveyard, as if these bodies were getting ready to rise. She thought of the sarcophagi in the cloisters in New York, and she felt certain that this was a sacred place for vampires.
She sensed an energy coming off of one of them, and she leaned in close, and read the inscription. Her heart stopped.
“What is it?” Blake asked, coming close.
“That sarcophagus,” Caitlin said. “The name on it. Elizabeth Payne.”
Blake looked at it, then looked back and Caitlin.
“Who’s that?” he asked.
“My mother,” she said, staring. “They say vampires can be buried in many places. This is the second tomb of hers that I’ve seen.” She looked closely around the
room. “I don’t know what it means, but I know that I’m in the right place.”
Caitlin scrutinized everything in the room with a new perception. She scanned the frescoes, the statues, the altar, the sarcophagi, looking for something, she didn’t know what. But she felt certain she’d know it when she saw it.
And then suddenly, she did.
She couldn’t believe it. There, in the center of the room, beside a large marble column, was a limestone, circular staircase, twisting and turning, winding its way up, about fifteen feet, to a large, stone pulpit. It looked exactly like the pulpit in the King’s Chapel in Boston. The pulpit where she’d found the Sword. But this one was larger, and entirely carved of stone.
As Caitlin stared at it, she knew that the answer she sought was inside it.
She found herself pulled towards it, like a magnet, and found herself climbing, ascending its stairs. As Blake watched, she twisted her way higher and higher, and finally reached the top.
At the top was a small, circular landing, and from up here, she had a commanding view of the church. She wondered how many priests had stood up here during the centuries.
She examined its small, stone walls, its ledges, looking for a clue, anything. Remembering the pulpit in Boston, she reached out and felt the walls carefully, checking for a secret compartment.
Suddenly, her fingers ran across something that didn’t feel quite right. It was the tiniest crack, between the marble. She slid a finger in, running it alongside it, looking for a secret latch.
She found it. It was the tiniest lever. She pushed it as hard as she could.
As she did, she heard the hissing of sealed air, released for the first time in centuries. She pulled at the stone, and there, indeed, was a secret compartment.
She looked inside, and her eyes opened wide in amazement. She was utterly shocked by what she saw.
But before she could react, Caitlin felt herself constricted.
Disoriented, she looked up, trying to understand what was happening, and as she did, she saw a silver netting, seemingly dropping from the sky, encasing her, wrapping around her. She saw a dozen vampires, tightening it around her, and felt herself falling to the ground.
She looked up, and the last thing she saw was Kyle, standing over her, half his face disfigured and missing an eye. He looked down at her with an evil grin. He lifted his foot, aiming for her face, and she saw it coming down, getting closer, and closer.
And then her world was blackness.
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CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR
Caleb stood in the rear of the funeral gondola, standing straight, chin proudly forward, as he rode with as much dignity as he could muster. Lying in the boat before him, wrapped in a black shroud, was the body of his boy. It was a boat just for the two of them, the customary funerary gondola, all-black, and longer than usual.
Sera would not join him. She had been inconsolable, and she had blamed Caleb. Although he was the one who’d asked her to stay with Jade, she was being irrational, and faulted him. She’d refused to attend the funeral, and refused to even be in his presence. She’d insisted on a divorce.
Caleb was reeling. It was so much at once, but the greater pain, to be sure, was Jade. He and Sera had been at odds lately, anyway, and he knew the day was fast approaching of their divorce. But Jade—that was a different matter altogether.
Caleb did his best to hold back his tears, but it was a futile effort. He had loved this boy more than he could ever possibly express, had seen all his hopes and wishes and dreams in him. It was not possible for full-blood vampires to procreate, and this boy had been the product of his union with Sera before he’d turned her. It was an illegal union, which was later sanctioned, and thus Caleb was one of the few vampires who actually had a child. But a child like this would never come along again, he knew. As he rode, as he looked down at the body, he knew that all his hopes and dreams would be buried with it.
More than that, he truly loved the boy. He had a warrior’s spirit, a heart bigger than any adult he’d ever met. Caleb had been proud not only to be his father, but also to know him as a friend, as a compatriot on this Earth. It devastated Caleb to know that he would no longer be with him. He would miss waking up to his being there, his companionship, their conversation. It was like a part of Caleb had been chopped off.
Next to Jade, also wrapped in a shroud, was Rose. Even in the short time they’d spent together, the two of them had a stronger connection than he’d ever seen. He knew that being buried together would be what the boy wanted.
As Caleb rowed, his entire coven rowed with him, hundreds of funerary gondolas, all-black, right behind him. Samuel rowed closest. They all headed solemnly through the grand Canal, heading towards the Isle of the Dead.
As they reached the island, the water gates opened wide to greet them. It was a rare thing for two vampire covens to come together on any issue, but in this, they were all unified.
Dozens of additional funeral gondolas waited to greet them, Aiden’s coven anxious to accompany them, to pay their respects. Aiden stood in the lead boat. As Caleb rowed through the middle, they accompanied him and his people.
When they finally reached the plot of land set aside for Jade, they all, as one force, accompanied the boy and Rose to their final resting place. Church bells tolled in the background, and wails of grief rose up.
Aiden presided over the ritualistic vampire burial, as Caleb personally shoveled the dirt.
“…to resurrect another day,” Aiden finished chanting, “in God’s ultimate grace.”
Caleb stood there, tears in his eyes, feeling surreal, out of touch with his body.
Person after person walked up to him, to try to offer condolences. But there were none to be had.
As Caleb stood there, his grief slowly morphed to anger, to a slow, quiet rage. His boy had been killed. He had not died accidentally, but had been deliberately killed, in cold blood. It was the work of an evil vampire coven, one that had set out to destroy Caleb, and had found his boy instead.
Caleb wanted revenge. He needed revenge.
And he was not alone. His entire coven demanded vengeance, too, as did Aiden’s coven. This was an attack on all of them, and was completely unacceptable. The covens were united.
Caleb finally cleared his throat, and spoke up in a loud voice.
“My fellow members,” he began. “What happened today was an attack not just on me, not just on my son, but on all of us. The malevolent coven coordinated this attack, this breach of our shores, and we must answer with equal force. I will fly today to exact revenge on this horrible, unjustly murder. To exact revenge for all of us. If need be, I will fly alone. But I welcome you to join me, to avenge the cruel and merciless death of my innocent boy.
“Are any of you with me?”
A huge roar of approval rose up, and Caleb’s heart swelled at the support.
“Then fly with me now!” he yelled.
With that, Caleb took three steps and flew off into the air, by himself.
It took but a moment for him to hear the fluttering behind him of thousands of wings.
It was an entire army, mobilized for war.
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CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE
As Caitlin tried to open her eyes, she had a splitting headache. She slowly raised her head and looked about, trying to get her bearings. She blinked several times, and realized that she lay curled up on the floor of a stone cell.
There was a small, barred window, way high up, and she could sense that the bars were made of silver, would be impossible to break. A harsh ray of sunlight came through it on an angle, lighting up her face, and she squinted in pain. She rolled over, getting out of the way.
In the darkened corner, Caitlin breathed, slowly sitting up, trying to collect yourself. Her head was absolutely killing her, as she tried to remember.
She remembered being in a church. Santa Croce. She remembered being with Blake, ascending a pulpit. She remembered finding that secret compartment, opening it.…
And then there had been a net thrown over her, her tackled to the ground. And then Kyle, looking down at her, his face grotesque. Kicking her.
She sat up straighter and looked around, feeling a throbbing bruise on her cheek. She was in a jail of some sort, probably put here by Kyle. She wondered how long she’d been here. Her throat was dry, and she felt weak. She listened, and in the distance, she heard what sounded like a faint cheer, followed by a massive vibration that shook the floor. She wondered where on earth she was.