Desired

It took every last ounce of Caitlin’s will to look away. She would rather die of starvation than hurt another human.

She looked around and wondered if there were a forest near here, a place she could hunt. While she had seen some occasional dirt roads and parks in the city, she hadn’t seen anything like a forest.

At just that moment, the door to the bar burst open, and a man stumbled out of it – thrown out, actually – by one of the wait staff. He cursed and screamed at them, clearly drunk.

Then he turned and set his sights on Caitlin.

He was well built, and he looked at Caitlin with ill intent.

She felt herself tense up. She wondered again, desperately, whether any of her powers remained.

She turned and walked away, walking faster, but she sensed the man following her.

Before she could turn, a second later, he grabbed her from behind, in a bear hug. He was faster and stronger than she had imagined, and she could smell his awful breath over her shoulder.

But the man was also drunk. He stumbled, even as he held her, and Caitlin focused, remembered her training, and sidestepped and swept him, using one of the fighting techniques that Aiden had taught her on Pollepel. The man went flying, landing on his back.

Caitlin suddenly had a flashback to Rome, of the Colosseum, of fighting on the stadium floor while being charged by multiple fighters. It was so vivid, for a moment, she forgot where she was.

She snapped out of it just in time. The drunk man got up, stumbled, and charged her again. Caitlin waited to the last second, then sidestepped, and he went flying, falling flat on his own face.

He was dazed, and before he could get up again, Caitlin hurried to get away. She was glad she had got the best of him, but the incident shook her. It worried her that she was still having flashbacks of Rome. She also hadn’t felt her supernatural strength. She still felt as frail as a human. The thought of that, more than anything else, scared her. She was truly on her own now.

Caitlin looked all around, starting to feel frantic with worry about where to go, about what to do next. Her legs burned from the walking, and she began to feel a sense of despair.

That was when she saw it. She looked up, and saw before her a huge hill. On top of that, sat a large, medieval abbey. For some reason she couldn’t explain, she felt drawn to it. The hill was daunting, but she didn’t see what other choice she had.

Caitlin hiked up the entire hill, more tired than she’d just about ever been, and wishing she could fly.

She finally reached the front doors of the abbey, and looked up at the massive, oak doors. This place looked ancient. She marveled at the fact that, though it was 1789, this church had already been around for what looked like thousands of years.

She didn’t know why, but she felt drawn here. Seeing nowhere else to go, she got her courage up, and knocked softly.

There was no response.

Caitlin tried the knob and was surprised to find it open. She let herself in.

The ancient door creaked open slowly, and it took a moment for Caitlin’s eyes to adjust to the cavernous, dark church. As she surveyed it, she was impressed by the scope and solemnity of the place. It was still late at night, and this simple, austere, church, made entirely of stone, adorned in stained-glass windows, was lit by large candles, everywhere, burning low. At its far end sat a simple altar, around which were placed dozens more candles.

Otherwise, it seemed empty.

Caitlin wondered for a moment what she was doing here. Was there a special reason? Or had her mind just been playing tricks on her?

A side door suddenly opened, and Caitlin spun.

Walking towards her, Caitlin was surprised to see, was a nun – short, frail, dressed in flowing white robes, with a white hood. She walked slowly, and walked right up to Caitlin.

She pulled back her hood, looked up at her and smiled. She had large, shining blue eyes, and seemed too young to be a nun. As she smiled wide, Caitlin could feel the warmth coming off of her. She also sensed that she was one of hers: a vampire.

“Sister Paine,” the nun said softly. “It is an honor to have you.”

Chapter Two

Her world felt surreal as the nun led Caitlin through the abbey, down a long corridor. It was a beautiful place, and it was clear that it was actively lived in, with nuns in white robes walking about, getting ready, it seemed, for the morning services. One of them swung a decanter as she went, spreading delicate incense, while others were chanting soft morning prayers.

After several minutes of walking in silence, Caitlin began to wonder where the nun was leading her. Finally, they stopped before a single door. The nun opened it, revealing a small, humble room, with a view overlooking Paris. It reminded Caitlin of the room she’d stayed in in that cloister in Siena.

“On the bed, you’ll find a change of clothing,” the nun said. “There is a well in which to bathe, in our courtyard,” she said. She pointed, “and that is for you.”

Caitlin followed her finger and saw a small, stone pedestal in the corner of the room, on which sat a silver goblet, filled with a white liquid. The nun smiled back.

“You have everything you need here for a fresh night’s sleep. After that, the choice is yours to make.”

“Choice?” Caitlin asked.

“I am told that you have one key already. You will need to find the other three. The choice, though, of whether to fulfill your mission and continue on your journey is always yours.”

“This is for you.”

She reached out and handed Caitlin a cylindrical, silver case, covered in jewels.

“It is a letter from your father. Just for you. We have been guarding it for centuries. It has never been opened.”

Caitlin took it in awe, feeling its weight in her hand.

“I do hope that you will continue with your mission,” she said softly. “We need you, Caitlin.”

The nun suddenly turned to go.

“Wait!” Caitlin yelled out.

She stopped.

“I’m in Paris, correct? In 1789?”

The woman smiled back. “That is correct.”

“But why? Why am I here? Why now? Why this place?”

“I’m afraid that is for you to find out. I am but a simple servant.”

“But why was I drawn to this church?”

“You are in the Abbey of Saint Peter. In Montmartre,” the woman said. “It has been here for thousands of years. It is a very sacred place.”

“Why?” Caitlin pressed.

“This was the place in which everyone met to take their vows for the founding of the Society of Jesus. It is in this place that Christianity was born.”