Loved

LOVED

(Book #2 in the Vampire Journals)

Morgan Rice

Also by Morgan Rice

TURNED (Book #1 in the Vampire Journals)

Copyright © 2011 by Morgan Rice

All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior permission of the author.

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return it and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, events, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictionally. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

FACT:

In Salem, in 1692, a dozen teenage girls, known as “the afflicted,” experienced a mysterious illness that led them to become hysterical and to independently scream out that local witches were tormenting them. This led to the Salem witch trials.

The mysterious illness that gripped these teenage girls has never, to this day, been explained.

“She dreamt tonight she saw my statua,

Which, like a fountain with an hundred spouts,

Did run pure blood: and many lusty Romans

Came smiling, and did bathe their hands in it:

And these does she apply for warnings, and portents,

And evils imminent…”

—William Shakespeare,
Julius Caesar

ONE

The Hudson Valley, New York

(Present Day)

For the first time in weeks, Caitlin Paine felt relaxed. Sitting comfortably on the floor of the small barn, she leaned back against a bale of hay, and exhaled. A small fire raged in the stone fireplace about ten feet away; she had just added a log, and felt reassured by the sound of cracking wood. March wasn’t over yet, and tonight had been especially cold. The window on the far wall afforded a view of the night sky, and she could see the snow was still falling.

The barn was unheated, but she sat close enough to the fire for its warmth to take the edge off. She felt very comfortable, and felt her eyes getting heavy. The smell of the fire dominated the barn, and as she reclined a little bit further, she could feel the tension starting to leave her shoulders and legs.

Of course, the real reason for her sense of peace, she knew, was not the fire, or hay, or even the shelter of the barn. It was due to him. Caleb. She sat and stared at him.

He reclined across from her, about fifteen feet away, so perfectly still. He was sleeping, and she took the opportunity to study his face, his perfect features, his pale, translucent skin. She had never seen features so perfectly chiseled. It was surreal, like staring at a sculpture. She couldn’t fathom how he had been alive for 3,000 years. She, at 18, already looked older than he did.

But it was more than his features. There was an air about him, a subtle energy that he exuded. A great sense of peace. When she was around him, she knew that everything would be all right.

She was just happy that he was still there, still with her. And she allowed herself to hope that they would stay together. But even as she thought it, she chided herself, knowing that she was setting herself up for trouble. Guys like this, she knew, just didn’t stick around. It just wasn’t how they were built.

Caleb slept so perfectly, taking such small breaths, that it was hard for her to tell if he was even asleep. He had left earlier, he’d said, to feed. He’d returned more relaxed, carrying a stack of logs, and he’d figured a way to seal the barn door to keep out the snowy draft. He had started the fire, and now that he was asleep, she kept it going.

She reached up and took another sip of her glass of red wine, and felt the warm liquid slowly relax her. She had found the bottle in a hidden chest, under a stack of hay; she’d remembered when her little brother, Sam, stashed it there, months ago, and on a whim. She never drank, but she didn’t see the harm in a few sips, especially after what she’d been through.

She held her journal on her lap, page open, a pen in one hand and the glass in the other. She had been holding it for 20 minutes now. She had no idea where to begin. She’d never had trouble writing before, but this time was different. The events of the last several days had been too dramatic, too hard to process. This was the first time she sat still and relaxed. The first time she had felt even remotely safe.

She decided it was best to begin at the beginning. What had happened. Why she was here. Who she even was. She needed to process it. She wasn’t even sure if she knew the answers herself anymore.

*

Up until last week, life was normal. I was actually beginning to like Oakville. Then Mom marched in one day and announced we were moving. Again. Life turned upside down, like it always did with her.

This time, it was worse. It wasn’t another suburb. It was New York. As in city. Public school and a life of concrete. And a dangerous neighborhood.

Sam was pissed, too. We talked about not going, about taking off. But the truth was, we had nowhere else to go.

So we went along. We both secretly vowed that if we didn’t like it, we’d leave. Find someplace. Anywhere. Maybe even try to track down Dad again, though we both knew that wouldn’t happen.

And then everything happened. So fast. My body. Turning. Changing. I still don’t know what happened, or who I’ve become. But I know I’m not the same person anymore.

I remember that fateful night when it all began. Carnegie Hall. My date with Jonah. And then…intermission. My….feeding? Killing someone? I still can’t remember. I only know what they told me. I know that I did something that night, but it’s all a blur. Whatever I did, it still sits like a pit in my stomach. I’d never want to harm anyone.

The next day, I felt the change in myself. I was definitely becoming stronger, faster, more sensitive to light. I smelled things, too. Animals were acting strangely around me, and I felt myself acting strangely around them.

And then there was mom. Telling me she’s not my real mom, and then getting killed by those vampires, the ones who’d been after me. I never would’ve wanted to see her hurt like that. I still feel like it’s my fault. But with everything else, I just can’t let myself go there. I’ve got to focus on what’s before me, what I can control.

There was my getting caught. Those awful vampires. And then, my escape. Caleb. Without him, I’m sure they would have killed me. Or worse.

Caleb’s coven. His people. So different. But vampires, all the same. Territorial. Jealous. Suspicious. They cast me out, and they gave him no choice.

But he chose. Despite everything, he chose me. Again, he saved me. He risked it all for me. I love him for that. More than he’ll ever know.

I have to help him back. He thinks I’m the one, some kind of vampire messiah or something. He’s convinced I’ll lead him to some kind of lost sword, that will stop a vampire war and save everybody. Personally, I don’t believe it. His own people don’t believe it. But I know that’s all he has, and that it means the world to him. And he risked everything for me, and it’s the least I can do. For me, it’s not even about the sword. I just don’t want to see him go.

So I’ll do whatever I can. I’ve always wanted to try to find my dad, anyway. I want to know who he really is. Who I really am. If I’m really half vampire, or half human, or whatever. I need answers. If nothing else, I need to know what I’m becoming…

*

“Caitlin?”

She woke in a daze. She looked up to see Caleb standing over her, hands resting gently on her shoulder. He smiled.

“I think you fell asleep,” he said.

She looked around, saw her open journal on her lap and snapped it closed. She felt her cheeks flush, hoping he hadn’t read any of it. Especially the part about her feelings for him.

She sat up and rubbed her eyes. It was still night, and the fire was still going, although it was down to embers. He must have just woken, too. She wondered how long she had been asleep.

“Sorry,” she said. “It’s the first I’ve slept in days.”

He smiled again, and crossed the room towards the fire. He threw several more logs on, and they crackled and hissed, as the fire grew greater. She felt the warmth reaching her feet.

He stood there, staring down at the fire, and his smile slowly faded as he seemed to become lost in his thoughts. As he looked into the flames, his face was lit with a warm glow, making him look even more attractive, if that were possible. His large, light brown eyes opened wide, and as she watched him, they changed color to a light green.

Caitlin sat up straighter, and saw that her glass of red wine was still full. She took a sip, and it warmed her. She hadn’t eaten in a while, and went right to her head. She saw the other plastic glass sitting there, and she remembered her manners.

“Can I pour you some?” she asked, then added, nervously, “that is, I mean, I don’t know if you drink—”

He laughed.

“Yes, vampires drink wine, too,” he said with a smile, and came over and held the glass while she poured.

She was surprised. Not by his words, but by his laugh. It was soft, elegant, and seemed to fade smoothly into the room. Like everything else about him, it was mysterious.

She looked up into his eyes as he raised the glass to his lips, hoping that he would look back into hers.

He did.

Then they both looked away at the same time. She felt her heart race faster.

Caleb walked back to his spot, sitting on the straw, leaning back, and looking at her. Now he seemed to be studying her. She felt self-conscious.

She unconsciously ran her hand along her clothing, and wished she were wearing something prettier. Her mind raced as she tried to remember what she had on. Somewhere along the way, she couldn’t remember where, they had stopped briefly in some town, and she had gone to the only store they had—a Salvation Army—and found a change of clothes.

She looked down in dread, and didn’t even recognize yourself. She wore torn, faded jeans, sneakers a size too big for her, and a sweater over a tee shirt. Over that, she had on a faded, purple pea coat, one button missing, also too big on her. But it was warm. And right now, that was what she needed.

She felt self-conscious. Why did he have to see her like this? It was just her luck that the first time she met a guy she really liked, she didn’t even have a chance to make herself look nice. There was no bathroom in this barn, and even if there were, she had no makeup on her. She looked away again, feeling embarrassed.

“Was I sleeping a long time?” she asked.

“I’m not sure. I just woke myself,” he said, leaning back and running his hand through his hair. “I fed early tonight. It threw me off.”

She looked at him.

“Explain it to me,” she said.

He looked at her.

“Feeding,” she added. “Like, how does it work? Do you…kill people?”

“No, never,” he said.

The room fell quiet as he collected his thoughts.

“Like everything in the vampire race, it’s complicated,” he said. “It depends on the type of vampire you are, and the coven you belong to. In my case, I only feed on animals. Deer, mostly. They are overpopulated, anyway, and humans hunt them, too—and not even to eat.”

His expression turned dark.

“But other covens are not so gracious. They will feed on humans. Usually, undesirables.”

“Undesirables?”

“Homeless, drifters, prostitutes…those who won’t be noticed. That’s the way it’s always been. They don’t want to draw attention to the race.

“That is why we consider my coven, my breed of vampire, to be pure blooded, and other types to be impure. What you feed on…it’s energy infuses you.”

Caitlin sat there, thinking.

“What about me?” She asked.

He looked at her.

“Why do I want to feed sometimes, but not others?”

He furrowed his brow.

“I’m not sure. It is different with you. You are a half breed. It is a very rare thing….I do know that you are coming-of-age. With others, they are turned, overnight. For you, it is a process. It may take time for you to settle, to go through whatever changes you are.”

Caitlin thought back and remembered her hunger pangs, how they’d overwhelmed her out of nowhere. How they’d made her unable to think of anything but feeding. It was horrible. She dreaded it happening again.