holy temple,” she said, her eyes closed, struggling to make out the details. “I see myself entering it. And carrying a staff. An ivory staff. And in my head, I keep hearing a voice. It says: A square within a square.”
Slowly, Caitlin opened her eyes, and as she did, she saw Aiden holding out a staff. She could not believe it: it was the staff of her vision. It was a weapon that Caitlin recognized, but had not seen in years: a four-foot ivory staff, intricately carved, with a round circular head and mysterious etchings all over it. The last time she had seen it had been in the Cloisters, in New York City. The crozier that Caleb had once used, and one of the greatest weapons of their coven. It glowed like a thing of magic as Aiden held it out to her.
Slowly, her hand trembling, she reached out and grasped it. She could feel its ancient energy coursing through her.
“This weapon has been in safekeeping for thousands of years, reserved for the time of greatest war,” Aiden said. “But it is also a clue, the final relic on the road to your father.”
Caitlin surveyed it, in awe.
“I’m meant to bring it to the temple?” she asked. “The one in my vision? The one in Jerusalem?”
Aiden nodded back.
“And now, you must go. There is no time to waste. A war comes. Find your father, for us all. Go. Say your goodbyes to Caleb. Make it meaningful. It will be the last time you see him again.”
Caitlin’s heart stopped at his words, as she felt her eyes well up with tears.
“How can you say such a thing?” she asked, horrified.
Aiden stared back gravely.
“I only say that which you know yourself to be true. Sometimes our future is revealed to us, and it is one we must accept. I am sorry, but your destiny with Caleb has come to an end.”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Scarlet stood in her cell, Ruth beside her, and looked up at the group of people standing before her. There must have been a dozen of them, and she could sense right away that they were different, like her. Vampires. Except, they were not like her. They had a very different energy—a dark energy. She sensed they had very dark intentions.
The guard opened the silver bars to her cell, and now they stood just a few feet away, staring down at her. The guard stepped forward and unlocked her silver shackles, and she rubbed her wrists, happy to have them free. She felt tempted to try to make a run for it, to dart past them, between their legs, and up the stone staircase. But she knew she wouldn’t make it. Ruth certainly wouldn’t, either. So she stared back at them warily, waiting to see who they were, and what they had come for.
As she looked them over, she suddenly thought she recognized one of them. She did a double-take: could it be him?
Scarlet couldn’t believe it. It looked just like him, although his face, the expression, seemed different. As if he were under a spell of some sort. And his eyes—they look older, meaner, lifeless. But otherwise, she was sure it was him.
Sam. Her uncle. Polly’s husband. The man she had met back in Scotland, and had grown to love. The man who had once looked out for her, protected her. What was he doing with these creeps?
Seeing him, Scarlet could even see some of her mommy in him. It made her heart race, pine for her mother more than ever. Seeing him, she knew that she should feel relief, that someone in her family was here, had found her, was looking out for her. Rationally, she knew she should.
But emotionally, when she looked up at Sam, she felt nothing like relief. Instead, she felt fear. She couldn’t understand why, but the way he looked down at her, it was as if he didn’t recognize her. As if he didn’t even care about her. As if he had not come here to help her, but rather to help this evil group of people. She couldn’t understand it.
“Sam?” she asked, as she looked into his eyes.
The rest of the group turned and looked at him. For a moment, just a flicker of a moment, she thought she saw his face flush with something like surprise. Or maybe, even recognition.
“Sam, don’t you recognize me?” Scarlet persisted. “It’s me. Scarlet. Your sister’s daughter.”
Sam stared back for several soft seconds, unblinking. He looked