Despite her efforts, Caitlin couldn’t hold her eyes open a second longer. They were just too heavy. She felt… sick was not the word. She felt… heavy. She felt free-floating, as if she were in limbo, stuck between two worlds. She didn’t feel connected to her body, didn’t feel like a part of the earth anymore. But she didn’t feel dead, either. She felt as if she were trying to awaken from a very, very deep sleep.

She struggled to remember. Boston…the King’s Chapel…the sword. And then…getting stabbed. Lying there, dying. And Caleb at her side. And then…his fangs. Approaching her.

Caitlin felt a dull, throbbing pain on the side of her throat. It must have been from where she’d been bit. She had asked for it—had pleaded for it.

But the way she felt now, she was not sure she should have. She didn’t feel right. She felt an icy, cold blood racing through her veins. She felt as if she had died, but had not taken the next step. As if she were stuck.

More than anything, she felt pain. A dull, throbbing pain in her lower right side, and in her stomach. It must be from where she’d been stabbed.

“What you are going through is normal,” Caleb said softly. “Don’t be afraid. We all go through it when we are first turned. It will get better. I promise you. The pain will go away.”

She wanted to smile, to reach up and caress his face. The sound of his voice made everything perfect in the world. It made all of this worth it. She would be with him forever, now, and that gave her hope.

But she was too tired. Her body was not responding to what her brain wanted. She couldn’t get her lips to smile, and she couldn’t summon the strength to lift her hand. She felt herself drifting back into sleep…

Suddenly, her thoughts shifted again, jolting her awake. The Sword…it was lying there, and then…stolen. Who had it now?