ELEVEN

Caleb flew over the Manhattan night sky, Sera trailing behind him, and as he dove lower, flying over the Bronx, he could see, with his vampire vision, the details of what was happening on the streets below. It was mayhem. Humans were fighting humans, stores were being looted, cars were piled up in the streets. It looked as if a war had broken out.

Worse, Caleb spotted vampires of the Blacktide Coven spread throughout the streets, attacking humans. Humans ran in every direction, from the vampires, from each other, from those infected with the Bubonic Plague, and from the occasional policeman. No one knew who was attacking who, it was clear. And it was also clear that the victors were the vampires. They were feeding everywhere, in a frenzy, on humans. Blood lined the streets.

Caleb’s heart sank. He felt sorry for the humans, and angry that the other vampire covens would act with such impunity, especially right in his coven’s neighborhood. Clearly, this was all being orchestrated. Surel