Destined. Morgan Rice
he continued. “This place is a portal for you. It is a launching pad for you to begin your journey, your pilgrimage.”
He turned and faced her.
“What you still fail to see,” he said, “is that you are on a journey. And some pilgrimages take years, and many, many miles.”
Caitlin thought. It was all overwhelming to her. She did not want to be on a journey. She wanted to be back home, with Caleb, safe and secure, in the 21st century, this whole nightmare behind her. She was tired of traveling, of always being on the run, of always searching. She just wanted a normal life again, the life of a teenage girl.
But she stopped herself from that way of thinking. It wasn’t helpful, she knew. Things had changed – permanently – and they would never be the same again. She reminded herself that change was the new normal. She was no longer the same old, average, human Caitlin. She was older now. Wiser. And whether she liked it or not, she was on a special mission. She just had to accept it.
“But what is my pilgrimage?” Caitlin asked. “What is my destination? Where is it exactly that I’m going?”
He led her to the end of the final corridor, and they stopped before a large, elaborate tomb.
Caitlin could feel the energy coming off of the tomb, and she knew right away that this was the tomb of Saint Francis. She felt recharged just standing near it, felt herself growing stronger, coming back into her own. She wondered again if she had come back as a human or as a vampire. She missed her powers dearly.
“Yes, you are still a vampire,” he said. “Do not worry. It is just taking time for you to come back to your own.”
She was embarrassed that she forgot, again, to guard her thoughts, but she felt comforted by his words.
“You are a very special person, Caitlin,” he said. “You are very much needed to our race. Without you, I would even go so far as to say, our entire race, and the entire human race, will be on the brink of extinction. We need you. We need your help.”
“But what am I supposed to?” she asked.
“We need you to find the Shield,” he said. “And in order to find the Shield, you will need to find your father. He, and only he, holds it. And in order to find him, you will need to find your coven. Your true coven.”
“But I have no idea where to begin,” she said. “I don’t even know why I’m in this place and time. Why Italy? Why 1790?”
“The answers to these questions you are going to have to find out for yourself. But I assure you you have very special reasons for being back in this lifetime. Special people to see, actions to fulfill. And that this place and time will lead you to the Shield.”
Caitlin thought.
“But I have no idea where my father is. I have no idea where to begin.”
He turned to her and smiled. “But you do,” he answered. “That is your problem. You don’t trust your intuition. You need to learn to search deep within yourself. Try it now. Close your eyes, breathe deeply.”
Caitlin did as he said.
“Ask yourself: where do I need to go next?”
Caitlin did so, wracking her brain. Nothing happened.
“Listen to the sound of your breathing. Let your mind still.”
As Caitlin did so, as she really focused and relaxed, images began to flash in her mind. She finally opened her eyes and looked at him.
“I see two places,” she said. “Florence, and Venice.”
“Yes,” he said. “Very good.”
“But I’m confused. Where do I go?”
“There are no wrong choices in a journey. Each path just brings us to a different place. The choice is yours. You have a very strong destiny, but you also have free will. You can choose at any step. Now, for example, you are faced with a pivotal choice. In Florence, you will fulfill your obligations, come closer to the Shield. It is what is needed of you. But in Venice, you will fulfill matters of the heart. You will have to choose between your mission and your heart.”
Caitlin’s heart soared.
Matters of the heart. Did that mean that Caleb was in Venice?
She felt her heart drawn to Venice. Yet, intellectually, she knew that Florence was where she should be in order to do what was expected of her.
She felt torn already.
“You are a grown woman now,” he said. “The choice is yours to make. But if you follow your heart, there will be heartbreak,” he warned. “The road of the heart is never easy. And never expected.”
“I feel so confused,” she said.
“We do our best work in dreams,” he said. “There is a cloisters next door, and you can sleep here for the night, rest, and decide in the morning. By then, you’ll be fully recovered.”
“Thank you,” she said, reaching out and taking his hand.
He turned to go, and as he did, her heart pounded. There was one more question she needed to ask him, the most important one of all. But a part of her was too scared to ask it. She was trembling. She opened her mouth to speak, but it turned dry.
He was walking down the corridor, about to turn away, when finally, she mustered the courage.
“Wait!” she yelled. Then softer, “Please, I have one more question.”
He stopped in his tracks, but kept his back to her. Oddly enough, he did not turn back around, as if he sensed what she was about to ask.
“My baby,” she said, in a soft, trembling voice. “Is he… she… did it make it? The trip? Am I still pregnant?”
He slowly turned, faced her. Then he lowered his eyes.
“I’m sorry,” he finally said, so soft that she wasn’t sure if she heard it. “You’ve come back in time. Children can only move forward. Your child lives, but not in this time. Only in the future.”
“But…” she began, trembling, “I thought vampires can only travel back in time, not forwards.”
“True,” he said. “I am afraid that your child lives in a time and place without you.” He lowered his eyes again. “I am so sorry,” he added.
With those final words, he turned and left.
And Caitlin felt as if a dagger had been plunged into her heart.
Chapter Four
Caitlin sat in the stark room of the Franciscan monastery and looked out through the open window, into the night. She had finally stopped crying. It had been hours since she’d left the priest, since she’d heard the news of her lost child. She hadn’t been able to stop the tears, or to stop thinking about the life she would have led. It was all too painful.
But after many hours, she cried herself out, and now all that was left were dried up tears on her cheeks. She looked out the window, trying to distract herself, and breathed deep.
The Umbrian countryside spread out before her, and from this vantage point, high up on a hill, she could the rolling hills of Assisi. There was a full moon out, enough light for her to see that this was a truly beautiful countryside. She saw the small, country cottages dotting the landscape, the smoke rising from the chimneys, and she could already feel that this was a quieter, more relaxed time in history.
Caitlin turned and surveyed her small room, lit only by the moonlight and a small candle burning on a wall sconce. It was made entirely of stone, with only a simple bed in the corner. She marveled at how it seemed to be her fate to always end up in a cloister. This place couldn’t be more different than Pollepel, yet at the same time, the small, medieval room reminded her of the room she’d had there. It was designed for introspection.
Caitlin examined the smooth, stone floor, and saw, near the window, two slight imprints, a few inches apart, in the shape