Vowed. Morgan Rice
of years old. Beneath it was a drop of hundreds of feet to the ocean.
“Yes,” Caleb said. “That is it. That island is familiar.” He surveyed it in awe.
“Where are we?” Caitlin asked.
He looked out at the sight with reverence, then turned and faced her, excitement in his eyes.
“Skye,” he said to her. “The legendary Isle of Skye. Home to warriors, and to our kind, for thousands of years. We are in Scotland, then,” he said. “near the approach to Skye. Clearly, that is where we are meant to go. It is a sacred place.”
“Let’s fly,” Caitlin said, feeling her wings already active.
Caleb shook his head.
“Skye is one of the few places on earth where that is not possible. There will surely be vampire warriors guarding it, and more importantly, there will be an energy shield protecting it from direct overhead flight. The water creates a psychic barrier to this place. No vampire can enter without being invited.” He turned and looked at her. “We’re going to have to enter the hard way: by crossing that rope bridge.”
Caitlin stared at the bridge, swaying in the wind.
“But that bridge is treacherous,” she said.
Caleb sighed.
“Skye is unlike any other place. Only the worthy are allowed to enter. Most people who try to approach it, meet their deaths, in one way or another.”
Caleb looked at her.
“We can turn back,” he offered.
Caitlin thought about it, then shook her head.
“No,” she answered, determined. “We were placed here for a reason. Let’s do it.”
Chapter Two
Sam woke with a start. His world was spinning, then rocking violently, and he couldn’t understand where he was, or what was happening. He was lying on his back, that much he knew, on what felt like wood, slumped in an uncomfortable position. He was looking straight up at the sky, and he saw the clouds moving erratically.
Sam reached over, grabbed hold of a piece of wood, and pulled himself up. He sat there, blinking, his world still spinning, and got a hold of his surroundings. He couldn’t believe it. He was on a boat, a small, wooden rowboat, lying on the floor, in the middle of an ocean.
It rocked violently in the rough sea, the waves lifting it and bringing it back down. It creaked and groaned as it moved, bobbing up and down, rocking side to side. Sam saw the foam of the waves crashing all around him, felt the cold, salty wind spray him in his hair and on his face. It was early morning, in fact, a beautiful dawn, with the sky breaking in a myriad of colors. He wondered how on earth he had ended up here.
Sam spun around and surveyed the boat, and as he did, he spotted a figure lying there, in the dim morning light, on the far side, curled up, on the floor, and covered with a shawl. He wondered who it could be, stuck with him on this small boat in the middle of nowhere. And then he sensed it. It went through him, like an electric shock. He didn’t have to see her face.
Polly.
Every bone in Sam’s body told him. He was surprised at how definitively he knew, at how connected he was with her, how deep his feelings ran for her – almost as if they were one. He didn’t understand how it had happened so quickly.
As he sat there, looking at her, unmoving, he suddenly felt a feeling of dread. He couldn’t tell if she were alive or not, and at that moment, he realized how devastated he would be if she were not. That was when he realized, finally, unequivocally, that he loved her.
Sam got to his feet, stumbling in the small boat as a wave turned and lifted it, and managed to take a few steps and kneel by her side. He reached over and gently pulled back the shawl, and shook her shoulders. She didn’t respond, and his heart pounded as he waited.
“Polly?” he asked.
No reply.
“Polly,” he said, more firmly. “Wake up. It’s me, Sam.”
But she didn’t budge, and as Sam brushed the bare skin of her shoulder, it felt too cold to him. His heart stopped. Could it be possible?
Sam leaned over and held her face in his hands. She was as beautiful as he remembered, her skin a very pale shade of translucent white, her hair a light brown, and her perfectly-chiseled features exquisite in the glow of the early morning light. He saw her perfect, full lips, her small nose, her large eyes, her long, brown hair. He remembered those eyes when they were open, an incredible, crystal blue, like the ocean. He longed to see them open again now; he would do anything. He longed to see her smile, to hear her voice, her laughter. In the past, it had sometimes bothered him when she talked too much. But now, he would give anything to hear her talk forever.
But her skin was too cold in his hands. Ice cold. And he was beginning to despair that her eyes would never open again.
“Polly!” he screamed, and as he did, he could hear the despair in his own voice, as it rose to the sky, and blended with the screech of a bird overhead.
Sam was growing desperate. He had no idea what to do. He was shaking her harder and harder, but she was just not responding. He thought back to the time and place he had last seen her. Sergei’s palace. He remembered freeing her. They had gone back, to Aiden’s castle, and had found Caitlin and Caleb and Scarlet, all lying lifeless on that bed. Aiden had told him that they had gone back in time, without them. He had implored Aiden to send them back, too. Aiden had shook his head, saying it was not meant to be, that it would interfere with destiny. But Sam had insisted.
Finally, Aiden had performed the ritual.
Had she died on the trip back?
Sam looked down and shook Polly again. Still nothing.
Finally, Sam reached down and pulled Polly close to him. He pulled her long, beautiful hair out of her face, placed one hand back behind her neck, and pulled her face close. He leaned down and kissed her.
It was a long, full kiss, planted fully on her lips, and Sam realized then, that this was only the second time they had ever really kissed. Her lips felt so soft, so perfect in his. But also too cold, too devoid of life. As he kissed her, he tried to focus on sending his love through her, on willing her back to life. In his mind, he tried to send a clear message. I’ll do anything. I’ll pay whatever price. I’ll do anything to have you back. Just come back to me.
“I’LL PAY ANY PRICE!” Sam leaned back and screamed to the waves.
The scream seemed to rise into the heavens, and as it did, it was echoed back by a flock of birds, flying overhead. Sam felt a chill run through his body, as he sensed, at that moment, that the universe had heard and answered him. He knew at that moment, with every ounce of his body, that Polly would, indeed, come back to life. Even though she wasn’t meant to. That he had willed it to happen, had broken some greater plan in the universe. And that he would, indeed, pay the price.
Suddenly, Sam looked down, and watched as Polly’s eyes opened slowly. They were as blue and beautiful as he had remembered, and they were staring right at him. For a moment they were blank, but then they filled with recognition. And then, the greatest magic he had ever seen, a small smile formed at the corner of her lips.
“Are you trying to take advantage of a girl while she’s asleep?” Polly asked, in her typical, jovial voice.
Sam couldn’t help but break into a huge grin. Polly was back. Nothing else mattered. He tried to push out of his mind the ominous feeling that he had defied destiny, that he would have to pay the price.
Polly sat up, back to her nimble, happy self, looking embarrassed to have been caught so vulnerable in his arms, and trying to make a show of being strong and independent. She took in her surroundings, and grabbed onto the side of the boat as a wave brought them high, then lurched them low.
“This isn’t exactly what I would call a romantic boating expedition,” she said, looking a bit pale as she tried to steady herself in the rocking sea. “Where