Desired (17 page)

Other rooms she’d stayed in, like the one in Pol epel, had been beautiful but simple—medieval and stone, almost monastic. This room was the opposite. It was huge, grand, ornate, decorated with a rug and drapes and a chandelier and mirrors and a vanity, and a huge four-poster bed.

Everything about this room was oversized, overdone, piling opulence on top of opulence.

Caitlin didn’t necessarily mind. After being on the run for so long, after sleeping in one place after the next, she appreciated being in such a quiet, comfortable place. She certainly could get used to living in a palace. It just felt so foreign to her, as if this were al a dream. She tiptoed through the room as if she were in a museum, afraid to touch the shining oak of the bedframe, or the perfectly smoothed silk linens on top of it.

Ruth, on the other hand, had no qualms. She happily wagged her tail as she ran about the room, smel ing everything.

Caitlin made her way over to the huge dresser in the corner. It had a shining, white marble top, with golden drawers. On top of it, there had been laid out already several sets of clothing options for her. She could not believe it. Each outfit was more beautiful and extravagant than the next. There was a long, formal gown, in a black silk; there was the Versail es version of casual clothing, which was just a slightly shorter gown, but which stil looked formal to Caitlin, in a light blue, with yel ow buttons.

Then there were al sorts of hats. And beside these, there was what looked like a training outfit.

It was made of a material she had never seen, like a thin leather, al -black. It looked like a skintight battle uniform, padded, with long pants and a tee shirt. Caitlin recognized.

It was the sparring gear of Aiden’s coven. It was lightweight and durable, and al owed her to fight, and at the same time, it managed to look elegant, with its shiny black coat and high col ars.

Caitlin immediately pul ed off al of her dirty clothes and was about to change, when she spotted a luxurious bathtub in the corner of the room. It was already fil ed with water, and she could see by the steam rising off of it that it had been heated for her. There were bubbles in it, and it was surrounded by al sorts of soaps.

Caitlin closed the drapes of her sun-soaked room, went over to her tub, and stepped slowly inside it, naked. She felt the luxurious feeling of the steaming hot water, and felt every muscle in her body relax. She had never appreciated it more.

Caitlin leaned back, closed her eyes, and breathed.

Images flashed through her mind, and she tried to stop them. But it was of little use. She saw Caleb’s face, how he looked in the morning, as they sat on his terrace together.

She saw him laughing, as they were horseback riding on the beach.

She saw them flying together, dipping, swerving. And she saw him on the hil top, the beauty and serenity of his expression, right before that falcon landed.

She tried to push the image out of her head. That moment when everything had changed for her.

She wil ed herself to think of anything else. She thought of Aiden. Of their walk in the forest that morning. What he had said.
What if the Shield is not something you find? What if
it is something that finds
you? What if it’s about what you
are becoming?

She opened her eyes and stared up at the ceiling as she thought about that. What did he mean by that? What exactly was she becoming?

Caitlin looked over at the end table, where she’d placed her father’s scrol . It lay there, in its gilded case, as if luring her to open it. She wondered what he could have possibly written to her. She wondered if she should open it now. A part of her desperately wanted to. But another part of her knew that if she did, and if it suggested a clue, she would have no choice but to fol ow. And she didn’t want to leave this new place so quickly. She was happy here. And she needed to train.

Stil , Caitlin’s curiosity was beginning to get the best of her.

She slowly got up from the bath, covered in bubbles, wrapped herself in a huge bath towel, and walked barefoot across the marble floor. She reached out and picked up the case. She held it up, examining it, feeling its energy.

With her heightened senses, she could feel how powerful it was. A jolt of electricity ran through her hands. She was on the verge of opening it.

Suddenly, there was a knock on the door. Caitlin quickly put down the scrol , tied the towel tighter around her, and crossed the room. She slid back the latch and looked out, and saw a pair of blue eyes looking back at her, framing a freckled face, bright red hair, big ears, and a large smile.

She was taken aback. It was Patrick.

“Caitlin? Are you ready yet?” she recognized that voice. It was definitely him.

“Ready for what?” she cal ed back, confused.

“Aiden sent me. It sparring time. Let’s go. We’re gonna be late!”

“Just a minute!” she yel ed.

She crossed the room, dried herself, and quickly changed into her sparring gear. She pul ed her hair back, tied it in a bun, and tucked what was left of it underneath her high col ar, so it would be safe for battle.

She crossed the room, Ruth at her heels, and opened the door.

There stood Patrick, his back to her. He quickly spun, and broke into that huge, boyish smile of his.

Caitlin could not help smiling back. There was something about him, so boyish and goofy, that always made her smile.

“God, you girls take forever to get ready!” he said, smiling.

She came out, Ruth trailing, and fol owed him as he headed off across the field.

As they walked, he thrust a bamboo sword into her hand.

She loved the feeling of it, and ran her hand along its hilt.

“I’m Caitlin,” she said, not sure if he remembered.

He laughed.

“Don’t you think I know?” he asked. “Everyone’s talking about you already. They want to see what you got!”

They turned the corner, through the formal garden, and there, in the open field, were dozens of Aiden’s vampires.

They were lined up neatly alongside a huge sparring ring, while two of them sparred in the middle. In the distance, on the marble steps, sat a crowd of royals and onlookers, watching the scene.

The click-clack of the bamboo swords fil ed the air.

“I hear you’re pretty good,” Patrick said. “But not as good as me, I’m sure,” he said, with a wink.

He increased his pace and so did she, and soon they were standing with the others. They stood off to the side, and Caitlin watched as the two vampires in the middle sparred.

Caitlin couldn’t believe it. It was Taylor and Tyler. The twins.

After al these centuries, here they were, stil sparring with each other. As she watched, Tyler came in for a lunge, but Taylor used her wings and flew right over his head; as she did, she cracked him hard in the back with her bamboo sword.

There was a roar among the crowd.

“No fair!” Tyler yel ed to Aiden, who watched patiently. “She used her wings!”

Aiden stepped forward.

“Taylor, you know better,” he said.

“It was more of a leap than a flight!” she said.

Aiden shook his head slowly. “Disqualified.”

Taylor, dejected, walked off to the side.

“Caitlin!” Aiden yel ed out.

Al eyes turned to her, as she felt her face flush with embarrassment.

“You’re up!” he yel ed.

As Taylor left, a space opened on the sparring floor. Tyler stood there, waiting for his next opponent.

Caitlin walked slowly, feeling the eyes on her, and faced off with him. She squeezed the hilt of her sword tightly, assured by its weight.

As she faced off with Tyler, about ten feet away, she studied him. He looked exactly as she remembered. If she remembered, he was fast, and liked to jab more than swing. He also had a tendency to sweep his opponents.

She looked into his eyes, and saw a blend of mischievousness and ego. She could tel from his glance that he expected this would be an easy victory.

Tyler jumped into action. He lunged right for her with the sword, and if he’d been successful, he would have poked her hard, right in the gut.

Luckily, Caitlin’s reflexes kicked in. At the last second, she dodged, stepping to the side, and Tyler went flying passed her. But he only missed her by a hair. Caitlin was surprised by his speed.

She focused. She had to get her game on.

She let him charge again, preferring a defensive position.

This time, he struck from above, coming right down for her shoulder blades. She grabbed both ends of her sword and held it above her head, and blocked the strike. Locked in a sword clash, inches away, she could see him sweating, grunting, as he struggled to bring his sword straight down, to break her grip, to overpower her.

Instead of fighting his strength, which was considerable, Caitlin decided to use it against him.

She suddenly leaned backwards, ducking down, letting his sword come down, landing back on her shoulder blades.

She saw her opening. She kicked him hard, with a front kick, right in his solo plexus. She could’ve kicked him even lower, but she didn’t think that would be fair.

Stil , her kick did considerable damage. He col apsed to his knees, winded, clearly not expecting it. Caitlin stood over him, and held the tip of the sword to his exposed throat. She needn’t do anymore. Clearly, she was the winner.

There was a muted roar of approval among the coven, as Tyler, ashamed, got up and limped off the battlefield.

“Who wil stand and fight her?” Aiden cal ed out.

There was a momentary silence among the group. No one seemed to want to.

Final y, a voice cal ed out. “I wil !”

Caitlin looked over, and was surprised to see who it was.

Cain. Except now, he had a shaved head, and looked much meaner and larger than she had remembered.

If he remembered Caitlin at al , it clearly was not with joy.

He had a meanness, a coldness in his eyes, that she hadn’t remembered. He wore a cut-off version of their uniform, and his muscles were bulging through skin. He looked like a hardened warrior.

He held in his hands two bamboo swords—one long, one short. He also had several other sparring weapons on his belt. Clearly, this was unfair. She was outmatched. She should have been given the opportunity to have equal weapons.

She glanced over at Aiden, indignant, but he looked in the other direction, indifferent. He knew she was mismatched with the weaponry. Apparently, he wanted her to be.

Caitlin didn’t have much time to reflect, because Cain burst into action. He grabbed something from his belt and in a flash of an eye, pul ed it back and swung it at her.

Caitlin was startled by it, but even more startled by her own reaction. Somehow, using some sense she didn’t even know she had, she managed to bring up her sword and swing it down, and strike away with the object in mid-air, before it hit her in the head. She looked down, and realized he had slung an object at her with his slingshot, a material that looked something like hardened rubber.

She was shocked not only at his speed, but his treachery. It was a cheap way to open a fight.

Cain charged right at her, a scowl on his face, leapt into the air, and aimed his two feet right for her chest. At the last second, Caitlin managed to dodge his kick—but she didn’t dodge the strike.

His feet, she realized too late, had been a distraction. At the same time, he had swung with his long sword, and hit her hard, right on her hip. The pain of the bamboo stung, reverberating right through her.

She spun to face him again, and now she was mad.

Al of his moves had been cheap, she thought. He didn’t have the courage to stand and fight her, head-on. She felt the indignity of it al coursing through her, and before she knew it, her veins ran with fire. She wouldn’t wait for him to charge again.

Caitlin charged, and leapt into the air for her own kick. As she predicted, he dodged himself, but she spun in the air at the same time, and backhanded him hard across the face.

The crowd oohed as the smack reverberated.

He looked at her with eyes meant to kil .

He charged head-on, swinging both swords wildly. This was just what she’d wanted. She got him off balance. Now he was out-of-control.

With her single sword, Caitlin managed to parry every single blow of his, click for clack, back and forth. He was fast, but, she was happy to realize, she was faster. She realized that she was, in fact, so fast, it was like she was in another dimension, almost like he was moving in slow motion.

She began to enjoy it. Every time she blocked one of his blows, she spun around, and cracked him in the side of the shoulder. She fol owed blow for blow, and cracked him on the shoulder, then the hip, then the stomach. She was toying with him.

Soon, she could see how confused he was, that he could not understand what was happening. As he spun another time, she grabbed one of his wrists, then grabbed the other, and kicked him hard the chest, stripping him of both of his weapons. He went flying back, onto the ground.

The crowd roared in approval. Clearly, Caitlin was the victor.

But Cain was furious. Apparently, he was not used to losing. Instead of graceful y admitting defeat, he got up and charged her again.

Caitlin hadn’t expected that. It happened so fast, before she knew it, he had his arms wrapped around her waist, tackling her, driving her hard to the ground. It knocked the wind out of her, and momentarily stunned her. He got on top of her, pinning her down.

Aiden stepped forward. “CAIN!” he yel ed out.

But Cain didn’t care. He’d pinned her down, and used his knees to dig into her arms, holding her in place so she couldn’t move. Then he reached up as if to choke her.

Caitlin felt an unearthly rage come over her. As she watched Cain’s hands go for her throat, she let her power overcome her for real this time. She broke free of his grasp, grabbed his wrist at the last second, and spun it around. She rol ed on top of him, twisting it back.

Caitlin then kicked him hard, right in the groin.

He slumped over, on the ground beside her, finished.