Betrayed vj-3

by Морган Райс

  Of course, she couldn’t just escape outright. She’d have to report back first, to suffer her punishment, or else her coven would hunt her down, and she would be on the run for the rest of her life. Once she was punished, no one would pursue them. Then she could take Sam, and they could flee far from here, and settle down somewhere. Just the two of them.

  She hadn’t expected the boy, Sam, to grab hold of her feelings the way he had. When she thought of her priorities now, she thought of him first. She wanted to be with him. She needed to be with him. In fact, as crazy as it sounded, even to herself, she could no longer picture life without him. She was furious at herself. She did not know how she had let it reach this point. An infatuation with a teenage boy. Much less, a human. She hated herself for it. But it was what it was. There was no use trying to change the way she felt.

  The thought of this gave her strength, as she slowly approached Rexius’ throne, preparing for her sentence. She would undergo indescribable pain, she knew that, but the thought of Sam would keep her strong throughout it. She would have something to go back to. And Sam would be protected, spared from all of this. That was what made it all bearable.

  But would he love her after she had undergone the punishment? If she knew Rexius, he would reserve the Ioric acid treatment for her, would scar her face as best as he possibly could. She may lose the best part of her looks afterwards. Would Sam still love her? She hoped that he would.

  A hush descended over the chamber, as the hundreds of vampires edged in closer, eager to see the exchange. Samantha took several steps closer to Rexius, and got down on one knee, bowing her head.

  Rexius, just feet away, stared down from his throne, his harsh, icy blue eyes piercing right through her. He stared at her for what felt like several minutes, although Samantha knew it was probably only seconds. She kept her head down. She knew better than to ever meet his gaze.

  “So,” Rexius began, his gravelly voice cutting through the air, “the chicken comes home to roost.”

  Several more minutes of silence followed, as he studied Samantha. She knew better than to try to explain herself in any way. She just kept her head bowed low.

  “I sent you on a very simple mission,” he continued. “After the failures of Kyle, I needed someone I could trust. My most valuable soldier. You had never let me down before, not in thousands of years,” he said, staring. “But in this, this one simple mission, you have somehow managed to fail. And to fail miserably.”

  Samantha lowered her head again.

  “So. Tell me exactly what happened to the Sword. Where is it?”

  “My master,” she began slowly, “I tracked down the girl. Caitlin. And Caleb. I found them both.

  And I found the Sword. I even got Caitlin to release it. It was on the floor, just feet from my grasp.

  In but a few seconds, it surely would have been in my grasp, for me to bring back to you.”

  Samantha swallowed.

  “I could not have foreseen what happened next. I was surprised, attacked by Kyle–”

  A loud murmur erupted throughout the room of vampires.

  “Before I could grab the Sword,” she continued, “Kyle had already taken it. He fled from the church, and there was nothing I could do. I tried to find him, but he was long gone. The Sword is now in his possession.”

  An even louder murmur spread throughout the room. The anxiety in the room was palpable.

  “SILENCE!” screamed a voice.

  Slowly, the murmur died down.

  “So,” Rexius began, “after all that, you let Kyle take the Sword. You practically handed it to him.”

  Samantha knew better, but she couldn’t contain herself. She had to say something in her defense.

  “My master, there was nothing I could do—”

  Rex interrupted her by simply shaking his head. She dreaded that gesture. It meant bad things were to follow.

  “Thanks to you, I must now prepare for two wars. This pathetic war with the humans, and now a war with Kyle.”

  A heavy silence blanketed the room, and Samantha felt her punishment was imminent. She was ready to accept it. She held fast in her mind the image of Sam, and the fact that they could not absolutely kill her. They would never do that. There would be a life after this, some kind of a life, and Sam would be in it.

  “I have a very special punishment reserved for you I,” Rexius said slowly, breaking into a slow grin.

  Samantha heard the wide double doors open behind her, and she turned to see.

  Her heart dropped.

  There, being dragged in by two vampires, chained by feet and hands, was Sam.

  They had found him.

  He was gagged, and as much as he squirmed and tried to make a noise, he couldn’t. His eyes opened wide in shock and fear. They dragged him to the side of the room, chains rattling, and held him firmly, forcing him to watch.

  “It seems you have not only lost the Sword, but have also developed an affection for a human, despite every rule of our race,” Rexius said. “Your punishment, Samantha, will be to watch suffer that which you hold dearest to you. I can sense that that which is dearest to you is not yourself. It is this boy. This pathetic, little, human boy. Very well,” he said, leaning closer, grinning. “Then that is how you will be punished. We will put this boy through horrific pain.”

  Samantha’s heart pounded in her chest. This was something she had not foreseen, and something she could not let happen. At any cost.

  She sprang into action, leaping in the direction of Sam’s attendants. She managed to reach one, kicking him hard in the chest. He went flying backwards.

  But before she could attack the other, several vampires were on her, grabbing her, pinning her down. She struggled with all she had, but there were just too many of them, and she could not match the strength of all those vampires at once.

  She watched helplessly as several vampires dragged Sam forward, towards the center of the room. They positioned him on the spot—the exact spot reserved for those undergoing the high Ioric acid treatment. On a vampire, the punishment was indescribably painful. It scarred for life.

  On a human, though, the pain would be incalculable, and the punishment meant a certain, horrific death. They were leading Sam to his execution. And they were forcing her to watch.

  Rexius grinned even wider, as Sam was chained down on the spot. As Rexius nodded, one of the attendants tore the tape from his mouth.

  Sam immediately looked for Samantha, fear in his eyes.

  “Samantha!” he yelled. “Please! Save me!”

  Samantha, despite herself, burst into tears. There was nothing, absolutely nothing she could do.

  Six vampires rolled forward a huge, iron cauldron, bubbling and hissing, mounted at the top of a ladder. They put it in position, right over Sam’s head.

  Sam looked up at it.

  And the last thing he saw was the liquid leaving the cauldron, bubbling and hissing, and heading right for his face.

  FOUR

  Caitlin was running. The field of flowers climbed as high as her waist, and as she ran, she cut a path right through it. The sun, blood-red, sat as a huge ball on the horizon.

  Standing with his back to the sun, on the horizon, was her father. Or at least, his silhouette. His features were unrecognizable, but she knew that it was him.

  As Caitlin ran and ran, desperate to finally see him, to embrace him, the sun sank quickly, too quickly.

  Everything happened too fast, and within seconds, the sun had disappeared completely.

  She found herself running through the field in the middle of the night. Her father was still there, waiting. She felt that he wanted her to run faster, that he wanted to embrace her. But her legs would only run so fast, and no matter how hard she tried, he seemed to just get further away.

  As she ran, the moon suddenly rose over the horizon—a huge, blood-red moon, filling the entire sky. Caitlin could see all the details on it, the indents, the craters. It was crystal clear. Her father s
tood, a silhouette against it, and as she tried to run even faster, it seemed as if she were running towards the very moon itself.

  But it wasn’t working. Suddenly, her legs and feet were not moving at all. She looked down, and saw that the flowers had twisted themselves around her ankles and legs, and were morphing into vines. They were so thick, and strong, soon she could not move at all.

  As she watched, a huge snake slithered towards her, through the field. She tried to struggle, to get away, but she was helpless. All she could do was watch as it approached. As it got closer, it leapt into the air, lunging right for her throat. She turned and screamed, and felt its long fangs pierce her throat. The pain was horrific.

  Caitlin woke with a start, sitting upright in bed and breathing hard. She reached for her throat, and felt the two hardening scars. For a moment, she confused her dream with reality, and looked about the room for a snake. There was none.

  She rubbed her throat. The wound still hurt, but not as much as it had in the dream. She breathed deeply.

  Caitlin was covered in a cold sweat, her heart still pounding. She wiped her face and the sides of her temples, and could feel her cold, wet hair sticking to her. How long had it been since she’d bathed? Washed her hair? She couldn’t remember. How long had she been lying there? And where, exactly, was she?

  Caitlin looked all about the room. It was the same place she remembered from some time ago—

  was it from a dream, or was she awake here at some point before? The room was entirely made of stone, and had one tall, arched window, through which she could see the night sky, and the enormous full moon, its light pouring in.

  She sat on the edge of her bed and rubbed her forehead, trying to remember. As she did, she was struck by a horrible pain in her side. She reached down, and felt the scab of a wound. She tried to remember what it was from. Had someone attacked her?

  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.

  What a terrible first impression as the new Caitlin. She still just couldn’t keep her mouth shut.

  Clearly, some things never changed, even with immortality.

  She sat up, and was about to lay her hand on his shoulder and apologize, when suddenly, she heard a whining noise, and felt a furry cloud in her face. She leaned back, and realized what it was.

  Rose. Her wolf pup, Rose leapt into Caitlin’s arms. Rose was whining with excitement, and licking Caitlin all over her face. Caitlin couldn’t help but break out laughing. She gave Rose a hug, and pulled her back and looked at her.

  Still a pup, Rose had already grown, and was bigger than Caitlin remembered. Caitlin thought, and recalled when she last saw Rose, in the King’s Chapel, lying on the floor, bleeding, shot by Samantha. She had been sure Rose was dead.

  “She pulled through,” Caleb said, reading her mind, as always. “She’s tough. Like her mother,”

  he added with a smile.

  Caleb must have been watching over them both all this time.

  “How long have I been out?” Caitlin asked.

  “One week,” Caleb said.

  One week, Caitlin thought. Incredible.

  She felt like she’d been out for years. She felt like she’d died and returned to life, but in a new form. She felt washed clean, as if she were starting life again with a blank slate.

  But as she remembered all the events that were transpiring, she realized that the passing of one week was also an eternity. They had stolen the Sword. And her brother, Sam, kidnapped. An entire week had gone by. Why hadn’t Caleb gone after them? Every minute counted.