Morgan Rice - Destined

If there was even a remote chance that Caleb could be there, she had to find out. She just had to.

She decided. She picked up Rose tightly in her arms, took a running start, and leapt out the window.

She knew that she was recovered now, that her wings would sprout.

Sure enough, they did.

And in moments, Caitlin was flying through the early morning air, over the hills of Umbria, and heading north, on the way to Venice.

Kyle walked down the narrow streets of the ancient district of Rome. All around him people were closing shops, retiring for the day. Sunset had always been his favorite time of day, the time he began to feel the strongest. He felt his blood pulsing quicker, felt himself growing stronger with each step. He was so happy to be back in the crowded streets of Rome, especially in this century. These pathetic humans were still hundreds of years away from any type of technology, any type of surveillance. He could tear this place apart with a relaxed and easy heart, and not have to worry about being detected.

Kyle turned down Via Del Seminario, and within moments, it opened up, and he found himself in a large, ancient square, The Piazza Della Rotonda.

And there it stood. Kyle stood there, closed his eyes, and breathed deeply. It felt so good to be back. Directly across from him was a place he’d called home for centuries, one of the most important vampire headquarters in the world: the Pantheon.

The Pantheon stood, Kyle was happy to see, as it always had, a massive, ancient stone building, the rear of it jutting out in a circular shape, and its front heralded by huge, imposing stone columns. By day, it was still open to tourists, even during this century. It hosted unseemly mobs of human beings.

But at night, after they closed the doors to the public, the real owners, the real occupants of this building, came out in force: the Grand Vampire Council.

Vampires from covens large and small, from all corners of the world, flocked to it, to attend every session every, all night long. The council ruled in all matters, gave permission, or took it away. Nothing happened in the vampire world without their knowing about it, and in most cases, without their approving.

It all fit so perfectly. This building had originally been built as a temple to the pagan gods. It had always been a place of worship, of gathering, for the dark vampire forces. For anyone with eyes to see, it was obvious: there were odes to pagan gods, frescoes, paintings, statues everywhere. Any human sightseer who took the time to read the mission of this place, could only realize what its true purpose was.

And if that were not enough, there were also all the great vampires buried there. It was a living mausoleum, the perfect place for Kyle and his kind to call home.

As Kyle ascended the steps, it felt like a homecoming. He walked right up to the enormous iron double front doors, slammed the metal knocker four times – the vampire signal – and waited.

Moments later, the heavy doors slid open just a few inches, and Kyle saw an unfamiliar face. The door opened wider, just enough to let Kyle in, and then was slammed quickly behind him.

The massive guard, even larger than Kyle, looked down.

“They are expecting you?” he asked warily.

“No.”

Kyle, ignoring the guard, took several steps towards the chamber, when suddenly, he felt a cold, icy grip on his arm and stopped. Kyle fumed, burning with rage.

The vampire guard stared down at him with equal rage.

“No one enters without an appointment,” he snapped. “You’re going to have to leave and come back another time.”

“I enter anywhere I choose,” Kyle seethed back. “And if you don’t remove your hand from my wrist, you’re going to suffer greatly.”

The guard stared back, and they were in a deadlock.

“I see that some things never change,” came a voice. “It’s okay, you can let him go.”

Kyle felt the grip release, and turned and saw a familiar face: it was Lore, one of the chief advisers to the Council. He stood there, staring at Kyle, smiling, slowly shaking his head.

“Kyle,” he said, “I never thought I’d see you again.”

Kyle, still fuming from the guard, straightened his jacket and slowly nodded. “I have business with the Council,” he said. “It can’t wait.”

“I’m sorry, old friend,” Lore continued, “it’s a full agenda for today. Some of them have been waiting for months. Pressing vampire business in every corner of the world, it seems. But if you come back next week, I think I might be able to accommodate – ”

Kyle stepped forward. “You don’t understand,” he said tensely, “I didn’t come from this time. I came from the future. Two hundred years into the future. From a vastly different world. The final judgment has arrived. We are on the brink of victory – total victory. And if I don’t see them right away, there will be grave consequences for us all.”

As Lore stared back, his smile dropped, as he realized the seriousness; finally, after several tense moments, he cleared his throat. “Follow me.”

He turned and strode off, and Kyle followed closely on his heels.

Kyle passed down a long, wide corridor, and within moments, he entered the huge, open chamber. It was immense, wide open, with a soaring, circular ceiling and a marble, shining floor. The room was shaped in a circle, and its periphery was filled with ornate columns and statues looking down on the room, mounted on pedestals.

Standing along the periphery of the room were hundreds of vampires, of every possible race and creed. Kyle knew that these were mostly mercenaries, all as evil as he. They all watched patiently as the Grand Council, on the far side of the room, sat behind their bench and doled out judgment. He felt the electricity in the room.

Kyle walked in, taking it all in. Going to the Council was the right thing to do. He could have tried to ignore them, could have just hunted Caitlin down on his own, but the Council would have intelligence, be able to guide him to her more quickly. More importantly, he needed their official sanction. Finding Caitlin was not just a personal matter, but a matter of the utmost importance to the vampire race. If the Council endorsed him, and he felt sure that they would, he would not only have their sanction, but their resources. He could kill her quicker, and be home faster, ready to finish out his war.

Without their sanction, he would be just another rogue, mercenary vampire. Kyle had no issue with that, but he didn’t want to spend his time watching his back: if he acted without their sanction, they might send vampires out to kill him. He felt confident he could handle himself, but he didn’t want to have to waste his time and energy that way.

But if they rejected his demands, he was fully prepared to do whatever he had to to hunt her down.

It was ultimately just one more formality in an endless stream of vampire formalities. This etiquette was the glue that held them all together – but it also annoyed him to no end.

As Kyle walked deeper into the chamber, he looked at the Council. They were just as he remembered them. On the far side of the chamber, the 12 judges of the grand Council sat on a raised dais. They were dressed in stark, black robes, all wearing black hoods which covered their faces. Kyle nonetheless knew what these men were. He had faced them many times over the centuries. Once, and only once, had they pulled back their hoods, and had he actually seen their grotesque, aged faces, faces that had walked the planet for millions of years. He flinched at the memory. They were hideous creatures of the night.

Yet they were the Grand Council of his time, and they had always resided here, ever since the Pantheon was built. It was really a part of them, this building, and no one of his kind, not even Kyle, dared cross their judgment. Their powers were just too intense, and the resources at their fingertips too vast. Kyle could maybe get away with killing one or two of them, but the armies they could summon, from every corner of the world, would eventually hunt him down.