Морган Райс - Loved

They both followed the line she drew.

Right there, at that exact spot, at the fourth tip of the cross, lay the King’s Chapel burying ground.

“The ones they loved,” Caleb said. “The burying ground.”

“He’s buried there,” she said.

“And so, I bet, is the sword.”

Samantha raced the BMW on the outskirts of Boston, Sam in the passenger seat beside her, heading along the highway towards Salem. She was increasingly annoyed at the growing difficulty in finding his dad. She’d been sure, when she’d seen those Facebook messages, when Sam had told her with such excitement that he’d been in touch with him, that this would be easy. She would just take him to his dad’s house, and from there it would be a direct path to the sword. But things had gotten complicated. She hadn’t expected to encounter that creep, and most of all, hadn’t expected to develop any feelings for Sam. It was complicating things. Making her less sharp.

Her original plan had been so simple: find his dad, kill them both, and return with the sword. Now she wasn’t sure she wanted to kill Sam at all. Especially as she looked over at him, and saw that fresh scar on his cheek, the reminder of how he’d tried to save her.

More than anything, she was mad at herself for that, mad at her lack of discipline. She hated feelings. They always got in the way.

After she’d seen his watch, after he’d given her the lead to Salem, she could have easily cut him loose. But for some weird reason, she wanted him around. She didn’t quite understand why. She’d told him she needed his help, for something important to her, and that they’d need to go to Salem.

Was he game? He’d broke into a big smile. This was clearly a kid who didn’t care about going back to school.

Besides, she could still use him to find his dad. That had been a lucky break with the watch. But Salem was a big place. And that inscription could mean anything. Having him around might actually come in handy.

Suddenly, she sensed something, and slammed on the brakes. Their car screeched to a stop in the middle of the highway.

“Whoa,” Sam said, slamming his palms on the dash. “What’s the deal?”

Several cars screeched to a stop behind them, leaning on their horns.

But Samantha didn’t care. She had felt something in the air. A vibration.

She sat there and raised her chin. Sensing.

Yes. There it was again. So close. The signal was unmistakable. There was important vampire activity. Right here in Boston. The vibration of it coursed through her veins. It was so close. She felt an urgency. Maybe, even, something to do with the sword itself.

She suddenly peeled out of traffic, made a sharp U-turn. All the traffic on both sides of the highway screeched to a halt, as she sped down the opposite side of Storrow Drive.

Sam was thrown against the side of the door, as he tried to get his bearings.

“What’s the rush?” he asked, surprised, and a bit scared.

Samantha drove another few hundred yards, then made a sharp left, screeching and cutting off four lanes of traffic.

“Change of plans,” she said.

Kyle jumped off the yacht before it even docked, and landed nimbly on the Boston cobblestone.

The Russian soon landed beside him.

He had thought of killing the Russian on the boat ride over, many times, but while it would make him temporarily happy, it wouldn’t get him what he needed. So he decided to give him one last chance, to see if he could, this time, point him in the right direction.

If the Russian was clueless in Boston, then he would kill him for sure. And then just find another way. Kyle looked over at him impatiently.

At least the boy still had that big wound on his cheek. Kyle was sure it would leave a nice, big scar. The thought of it made him happy.

Luckily for the Russian, his eyes lit up, and he pointed.

“She is definitely here, my master,” he said, excitedly. “I sense her. Strongly. Only blocks away.”

Kyle broke into a grin. This time, it seemed real. Yes, he believed him. Blocks away. He loved the sound of that.

Kyle approached a shiny, new Towncar, its driver standing beside the open door.

As they approached, the Russian opened the passenger door and got in.

“Hey!” yelled the driver.

But before he could react, Kyle, with one strong punch, had knocked him back several feet in the air. Without even slowing, Kyle got into the driver’s side, and with the car already running, peeled out.

Kyle raced through the Boston traffic, veering for the fun of it and slamming hard into a car as he went. Horns began to blare all around him. He smiled widely. It made him feel just a little bit better.

Within moments, he knew, that sword would be his.

And then he would kill them all.

As Caitlin and Caleb left the Meeting House, turning onto School Street, the King’s Chapel Burying Ground came into view. It was only two short blocks away, and a direct, straight walk.

The fourth tip of the cross , Caitlin thought. It all makes perfect sense .

As they walked, she marveled at the fact that they had walked, this entire time, in the shape of a cross, as if they had been led by some invisible hand.

Caitlin felt her heart beating faster. She was nervous to finally meet her father, if he was alive.

And nervous to see his grave, if he should be dead. She wasn’t sure how she would react either way.

But she was also excited, relieved to at last know exactly who he was, where she came from. She was excited to know what her lineage was, and what her destiny would be.

She was also nervous that this would mean the end between her and Caleb. What if they really found the sword? What would he do then? Would he go and wage his war? Save his coven? And where would that leave her?

The two of them held hands as they walked towards the graveyard, only 30 yards away. She felt his grip tighten. Maybe he was sharing the same thoughts. Whatever they found in the next few minutes could change both of their lives forever. Caitlin felt Rose retreating within her jacket.

The sun was setting as they entered the small burying ground. The King’s Chapel Burying Ground was relatively obscure, the smaller and more forgotten of the two historic Boston burying grounds. It wasn’t even all that big, a mere 100 feet wide and just a few hundred feet deep. It was scattered with small, humble tombstones, hundreds of years old.

A narrow cobblestone trail wound its way through, and Caitlin set Rose down beside them, and the three of them walked it together. Caitlin and Caleb scanned each and every stone. Caitlin’s heart was pounding, as she read each inscription. Could this one be her father? That one?

They began in the back, at the very last row, and went stone to stone, searching for a clue, for anything. She found herself attracted to the larger stones, the bigger monuments. She had hoped her father would be someone important, whenever he lived, hoped one of the grand monuments would be reserved for him.

But none were. In fact, his name was not to be found anywhere.

As they finished their search, back to where they began at the entrance, Caitlin looked over, and realized that there was one last row of graves. It was the row closest to the street, closest to the entrance. They walked it slowly, stone to stone.

And there, at the very end, it was.

A tombstone: “Elizabeth Paine. Died 1692.”

It was the same Elizabeth Paine of Salem. The same woman of Hawthorne’s Scarlet Letter . The same woman who, Caleb had told her, had mated with a vampire. The same woman who bore Caitlin’s last name. This was where she was buried.

Was this who they’d been looking for all this time? Had Caitlin been looking, not for her father, but for her mother ?