As it bounded left, then right, she stayed close on its trail. She remembered her time with Caleb, in Salem, his teaching her how to hunt.
He taught her well: moments later she found herself leaping onto a small deer and sinking her fangs into its neck. It was a direct hit. The deer went down, Caitlin on top of it. It kicked for a few seconds, but then it stopped, as Caitlin sucked the blood from its body.
As she drank, Caitlin slowly felt her life’s force returning.
And then she suddenly heard a click behind her—a loud, distinctive click.
She immediately recognized it as the click of a rifle.
She froze, and slowly turned.
There, standing over her, was a hunter, elegantly dressed, holding a rifle, aimed right at her.
“Don’t you move,” he said to her, threateningly.
Caitlin heard more rustling, and saw that he was accompanied by a group of about 30 humans, all pointing crossbows at her. She was completely surrounded.
She didn’t know what to do. She could kill the humans easily enough, but she really didn’t want to harm them. She didn’t want to have to spend her time here on the run, rushed out of the city before she could find what she needed.
She slowly turned, raising her hands.
“Get up,” he said. “On your feet.”
She slowly stood, hands held high, debating a course of action. The hunters behind him all seemed itching to fire. The arrows and bullets might not kill her, but they would surely hurt.
“I mean you no harm,” she said.
“We know what you are,” he grunted. “A vampire. Your kind bring nothing but evil. I killed one of yours just yesterday. Apparently, I didn’t kill enough.”
The man clicked back the action on his rifle, and raised it higher, right for Caitlin’s head.
She realized that he was about to fire.
Suddenly, there was a rustling in the woods, and the entire group spun and looked. A vampire had dropped him from the sky, had landed behind all of them.
Caitlin was shocked to see that it was Blake.
It was the distraction Caitlin needed. Before they could turn back her way, she sprang into action, grabbing the hunter’s rifle and tearing it from his hands just as he fired. She had managed to raise it just high enough, so that the bullet missed her head by an inch.
She yanked the gun from him, spun it around, and cracked him across the jaw with the butt of the rifle, sending him down.
Blake had sprung into action, too, knocking three of them down with a single blow.
The other archers turned back to Caitlin and fired, but she was faster than them, and had already leapt into the air. She came down fast and hard, kicking them all in the face. She swung the butt of the rifle wildly, knocking several others over. It would have been easier to kill them, but it was not what she wanted.
Blake was also in a frenzy, punching, kicking, elbowing, knocking them all out.
Of the entire group, only one managed to get off a shot. The arrow pierced Blake’s arm, as he let out a scream.
Caitlin spun, identified the hunter, and kicked him so hard, with both her feet on his chest, that he went flying back at super speed, into a tree. To his bad fortune, he went flying right into a sharp, protruding branch, and it punctured his throat. He was pinned to the tree, dead.
All the other humans were knocked out cold, unconscious.
Caitlin turned to Blake, running over to him, feeling responsible for his wound. He stood there, clutching it, the arrow still stuck in his arm.
“Break it off,” he said through gritted teeth.
Caitlin hesitated, then snapped the arrow. He screamed as she did.
“Now pull,” he said.
She looked at him, unsure, but he nodded, locking his jaw.
In one strong motion, she yanked the arrow as hard as she could. Blake screeched, as it went entirely through his arm. Blood poured everywhere, and Caitlin stopped it with her hands.
Blake reached down, tore a strip of fabric off of his shirt with his teeth, and handed it to Caitlin.
She took it, and wrapped it tightly around the wound.
Finally, the bleeding stopped.
Blake bent down, grabbed the tip of the arrow, and held it up to the moonlight.
“As I thought,” he said. “Silver-tipped. These were not hunters. They were
Looking specifically for types like us.”
Caitlin looked at the arrow tip, and saw that he was right. She looked at his wound in concern.
“Will you be okay?” she asked.
He nodded, but not convincingly.
“Let’s get out of here,” he said.
Caitlin stood beside Blake on the stone terrace, leaning against the ornate marble railing. High up on a hill, she looked out over the forest, over the river, at the city of Florence. Her mind was still reeling, still trying to process how she got here, how it all happened.
She had never expected to be surrounded so quickly by a group of humans, especially armed with weapons capable of hurting vampires. She hadn’t known of vampire hunters, and it was stupid of her to let down her guard so much. She had been too focused on Florence, too excited to be here—and too hungry, too focused on feeding. It had been a stupid mistake.
Thank goodness for Blake. Seeing him there had been such a shock. She had thought that he’d forgotten about her, and that if he thought of her at all, it would only be with anger. After all, she had left him so abruptly, when he had been so kind to her.
After their encounter, he’d led her through the forest, up this hill, to this incredible mansion. It was, he explained, a palazzo. Sitting proudly high up on a hill, it had a wide, marble staircase, with thick, ornate railings winding their way up to this huge stone terrace. It all led to a magnificent, marble house, with huge oak doors, and glorious arched windows in every direction. Blake had led her inside, and had explained that this was one of his many houses. It was magnificent, fit for a king.
It sure beat spending the night in the forest.
After collecting herself and helping tend his wound, Caitlin had wandered out onto the terrace, to get some fresh air, to take it all in. He had wandered out after her, and now stood at her side.
She and Blake hadn’t said much, both still reeling from the shock of battle. He looked like he was in pain from the arrow, and Caitlin felt terribly about it. She was deeply touched that he had come for her, that he had saved her. Who knows what would have happened if he hadn’t arrived.
They stood there in the warm evening air, each looking out, each lost in their own thoughts.
The silence grew thick, and Caitlin began to feel nervous. She felt her heart start to be faster. She had no idea what to say. She wanted to thank him. But she didn’t know how to begin.
“Did you come down here just for me?” she asked softly, in the summer darkness.
He waited several moments, then nodded.
“Why?” she asked.
“I couldn’t forget you,” he said.
He turned and faced her.
“Our dance. Our boat ride. I thought what we had was real.”
He looked at her.
