Semua Bab Turned (Book #1 in the Vampire Journals): Bab 11 - Bab 17

Caitlin felt them slow, and then begin to descend. She opened her eyes. She didn’t recognize any of the buildings below them. It appeared that they were way uptown. Possibly, the Bronx somewhere.As they descended, they flew over a small park, and in the distance, she thought she saw a castle. As they got closer, she realized that it definitely was a castle. What was a castle doing here, in New York City?She wracked her brain, and realized that she had seen this castle before. On a postcard somewhere…Yes. It was a museum of some sort. As they ascended a small hill, flying over its ramparts, flying over its small, medieval walls, she suddenly remembered what it was. The Cloisters. The small museum. It had been brought over from Europe, piece by piece. It was hundreds of years old. Why was he taking her here?They descended smoothly over the outer wall and onto a large, stone terrace, overlooking the Hudson river. They landed in darkness, but his feet touched down gracefully on the s

Caitlin and Caleb stood together on the large, open terrace outside the Cloisters, looking out at the night. Far-off, she could see the Hudson River, peeking out between the bare trees of March. In the distance, she could even see the tiny lights of cars heading over the bridge. The night was completely silent.“I need you to answer some questions for me, Caleb,” she said softly, after several seconds of silence.“I know,” Caleb answered.“What am I doing here? Who do you think I am?” Caitlin asked. It took her a few seconds more to summon the courage to ask the final question, “And why did you save me?”Caleb stared off into the horizon for several seconds. She could not tell what he was thinking, or if he would even answer.Finally, he turned to her. He stared right into her eyes, and the power of his stare was overwhelming. She couldn’t look away if she tried.“I am a vampire,” he said, flatly. “Of the White Coven. I have lived for over 3,000 years, and I have been with this c

Jonah sat in the police station, very afraid. One on side of him sat his Dad, looking more nervous than Jonah had ever seen him, and on the other, his newly-hired lawyer. Across from them, in the small, bright, interrogation, sat five police detectives. Behind them stood five more, all pacing and agitated.It was the biggest news story of the day. Not only had an internationally-acclaimed vocalist been murdered, right during his debut performance, right in Carnegie Hall—not only had he been murdered in a suspicious way, but things had managed to get even worse. When the police followed up on the only lead they had, when they had visited her apartment, four policemen were killed. To say that things had escalated was to put it mildly.Now, not only were they after the “Beethoven Butcher” (or “Carnegie Hall Killer,” as some papers were calling her) but they were also after a cop killer. A four-cop killer. Every cop in the city was on the case, and no one would rest until it was solved.

When Caitlin woke, it was morning. She could feel more than see the sunlight striking her, and she groggily raised her head to get her bearings. She felt cold stone touching the skin of her arms and forehead. Where was she?As she raised her head and looked around, she realized she was in Central Park. She remembered now that she had stopped along the way, sometime during the night, to take a rest. She had been so tired, so weary. She must have fallen asleep sitting up, leaning over and resting her arms and head on the marble railing.It was already mid-morning, and people streamed through the park. One lady, with her young daughter, walked by and gave her a strange look. She pulled her daughter close as they passed.Caitlin sat up straighter, and looked around. A few people stared at her, and she wondered what they must have thought. She looked down at her dirty clothes. They were covered in grime. At this point, she didn’t really care. She just wanted to get out this city, this pl