with a direct view of the crashing waves. Even from here, Caitlin could sense that this was a holy place.
“It was Jesus’s synagogue,” one of the men said. “It was where he spent all his time.”
“Thank you,” Caitlin said, beginning to walk towards it.
As she walked, the man reached out and grabbed her arm with his new, healthy hand. Caitlin stopped and looked at him. She could feel the energy pulsing through his hand, into her arm. It was unlike anything she’d ever felt. It was a healing, comforting energy.
“You’re not from here, are you?” the man asked.
Caitlin felt him looking into her eyes, and could tell that he was sensing something. She realized there was no use in lying to him.
Slowly, she shook her head. “No, I’m not.”
He stared back at her for a long time, then slowly nodded, satisfied.
“You will find him,” he said to her. “I can feel it.”
*
Caitlin and Caleb walked up the shore, waves crashing beside them, the smell of salt heavy in the air. The cool breezes were refreshing to Caitlin, especially after so much time in the desert heat. They turned and ascended a small hill, at the top of which sat nestled the ancient synagogue.
Caitlin looked up at it as they approached: built of a worn limestone, it seemed as if it had been here for thousands of years. She could feel the energy coming off the place; this was a holy place, she could tell already. Its large, arched door was ajar and creaked as it swayed in the wind, rocked by the ocean breezes.
As they hiked up the hill, they passed clumps of wild flowers, growing seemingly right out of the rock, in an array of bright desert colors. They were the most beautiful flowers Caitlin had ever seen, so unexpected, so unlikely in this desolate place.
They reached the top of the hill and walked right up to the door. Caitlin felt the Star of David burning inside her pocket, and she knew they had come to the right place.
She looked up and over the doorway, embedded in the stone, was a huge, golden star of David, surrounded by Hebrew letters. It was amazing to think that she was about to enter a place where Jesus had spent so much time. Somehow she had expected to enter a church—but, of course, as she thought about it, she realized that wouldn’t make sense, since churches weren’t built, of course, until after he died. It seemed strange to think of Jesus in a synagogue—but then again, after all, she knew he had been Jewish, and a Rabbi, and so it made perfect sense.
But what relevance did all of this have for her search for her Dad? For the shield? She was increasingly feeling that all this was connected, all the centuries and times and places, all of the searching in all the monasteries and churches, all of the keys, all of the crosses. She felt that a common thread was sitting there, right before he eyes. Yet she still didn’t know what.
Clearly there was some holy, spiritual element to whatever it was she needed to find. Which also seemed strange to her, because after all, this was a world of vampires. But then again, as she thought about it, she realized this was also a spiritual war, between supernatural forces of good and evil, those who wanted to protect the human race, and those who wanted to harm it. And clearly, whatever it was she found would have huge ramifications not only for the vampire race, but for the human race as well.
She looked at the ajar door, and wondered if they should just walk in.
“Hello?” Caitlin called out.
She waited a few seconds, her voice echoing. There was no response.
She looked at Caleb. He nodded, and she could tell he also felt they were in the right place. She reached up, lay her palm on the ancient wooden door, and gently pushed it. It creaked as it opened, and they entered the darkened building.
It was cooler in here, protected from the sun, and it took Caitlin a moment for her eyes to adjust. Slowly, they did, and she took in the room before her.
It was magnificent, unlike anything she had ever seen. It wasn’t grand, like so many churches she’d been in; it was actually a humble building, built of marble and limestone, adorned with Roman columns, and with intricate carvings over the ceiling. There were no pews, no places to sit—just