I feel so confused. I don’t know what to do next.
Please, God, help me….
As the sun rose in a huge ball over the horizon, Caitlin ran through the streets of New York. It was the apocalypse. Cars were turned over, bodies lay about, and there was devastation everywhere. She ran and ran, down avenues which never seemed to end.
As she ran, the world seemed to turn on its axis; as it did, the buildings seemed to disappear. The landscape changed, with the avenues turning into dirt paths, the concrete turning into rolling hills. She felt herself running back in time, from a modern age to another century. She felt that if she just ran faster, she could find her father, her true father, somewhere on the horizon.
She ran through small country villages, and then these, too, faded away.
Soon all that was left was a field of white flowers. As she ran through them, she was delighted to see that he was there, on the horizon, waiting. Her father.
As always, he was silhouetted against the sun, but this time, he felt closer than usual. This time, she could see his face, his expression. He was smiling, waiting for her, arms extended for a hug.
She reached him. She embraced him, and he hugged her tight, his muscled torso holding her.
“Caitlin,” he said, his voice exuding such love. “Do you know how close you are? Do you know how much I love you?”
Before she could respond, she spotted something to the side, and saw that, standing on the other side of the field, was Caleb. He held out a hand towards her.
She took several steps towards him, then stopped and faced her father.
He, too, held out a hand.
“Find me in Florence,” her father said.
She turned to Caleb.
“Find me in Venice,” Caleb said.
She looked back and forth between the two, torn over which way to go.
Caitlin woke with a jolt, and sat upright in bed.
She looked around her small room, disoriented.
Finally, she realized it was a dream.
The sun was rising, and she went over to the window, and looked. Assisi in the early morning light was so still, so beautiful. Everyone was still indoors, and smoke rose from the occasional chimney. An early morning mist hung over the fields like a cloud, refracting the light.
Caitlin suddenly wheeled as she heard a creaking noise, and braced herself as she saw her door starting to pry open. She bunched her fists, preparing herself for an unwanted visitor.
But as the door opened wider, she looked down, and her eyes opened wide in delight.
It was Rose, pushing the door open with her nose.
“Rose!” she screamed.
Rose pushed the door open all the way, ran in and leapt up into Caitlin’s arms. She licked her face all over, as Caitlin cried in joy.
Caitlin pulled her back and looked her over. She had filled out, grown bigger.
“How did you find me?” Caitlin asked.
Rose licked her back, whining.
Caitlin sat on the edge of the bed, petting her, and thought hard, trying to clear her mind. If Rose had made it back, perhaps Caleb had, too. She felt encouraged.
Intellectually, she knew she needed to go to Florence. To continue the search. She knew that the key to finding her father, the shield, lay there.
But her heart pulled her to Venice.
If there was even a remote chance that Caleb could be there, she had to find out. She just had to.
She decided. She picked up Rose tightly in her arms, took a running start, and leapt out the window.
She knew that she was recovered now, that her wings would sprout.
Sure enough, they did.
And in moments, Caitlin was flying through the early morning air, over the hills of Umbria, and heading north, on the way to Venice.
Kyle walked down the narrow streets of the ancient district of Rome. All around him people were closing shops, retiring for the day. Sunset had always been his favorite time of day, the time he began to feel the strongest. He felt his blood pulsing quicker, felt himself growing stronger with each step. He was so happy to be back in the crowded streets of Rome, especially in this century. These pathetic humans were still hundreds of years away from any type of technology, any type of surveillance. He could tear this place apart with a relaxed and easy heart, and not have to worry about being detected.
Kyle turned down Via Del Seminario, and within moments, it opened up, and he found himself in a large, ancient square, The Piazza Della Rotonda.
And there it stood. Kyle stood there, closed his eyes, and breathed deeply. It felt so good to be back. Directly across from him was a place he’d called home for centuries, one of the most important vampire headquarters in the world: the Pantheon.
The Pantheon stood, Kyle was happy to see, as it always had, a massive, ancient stone building, the rear of it jutting out in a circular shape, and its front heralded by huge, imposing stone columns.
By day, it was still open to tourists, even during this century. It hosted unseemly mobs of human beings.
But at night, after they closed the doors to the public, the real owners, the real occupants of this building, came out in force: the Grand Vampire Council.
Vampires from covens large and small, from all corners of the world, flocked to it, to attend every session every, all night long. The council ruled in all matters, gave permission, or took it away.
Nothing happened in the vampire world without their knowing about it, and in most cases, without their approving.
It all fit so perfectly. This building had originally been built as a temple to the pagan gods. It had always been a place of worship, of gathering, for the dark vampire forces. For anyone with eyes to see, it was obvious: there were odes to pagan gods, frescoes, paintings, statues everywhere. Any human sightseer who took the time to read the mission of this place, could only realize what its true purpose was.
And if that were not enough, there were also all the great vampires buried there. It was a living mausoleum, the perfect place for Kyle and his kind to call home.
As Kyle ascended the steps, it felt like a homecoming. He walked right up to the enormous iron double front doors, slammed the metal knocker four times—the vampire signal—and waited.
Moments later, the heavy doors slid open just a few inches, and Kyle saw an unfamiliar face. The door opened wider, just enough to let Kyle in, and then was slammed quickly behind him.
The massive guard, even larger than Kyle, looked down.
“They are expecting you?” he asked warily.
“No.”
Kyle, ignoring the guard, took several steps towards the chamber, when suddenly, he felt a cold, icy grip on his arm and stopped. Kyle fumed, burning with rage.
The vampire guard stared down at him with equal rage.
“No one enters without an appointment,” he snapped. “You’re going to have to leave and come back another time.”
“I enter anywhere I choose,” Kyle seethed back. “And if you don’t remove your hand from my wrist, you’re going to suffer greatly.”
The guard stared back, and they were in a deadlock.
“I see that some things never change,” came a voice. “It’s okay, you can let him go.”
Kyle felt the grip release, and turned and saw a familiar face: it was Lore, one of the chief advisers to the Council. He stood there, staring at Kyle, smiling, slowly shaking his head.