He stopped in his tracks, but kept his back to her. Oddly enough, he did not turn back around, as if he sensed what she was about to ask.

“My baby,” she said, in a soft, trembling voice. “Is he…she…did it make it? The trip? Am I still pregnant?”

He slowly turned, faced her. Then he lowered his eyes.

“I’m sorry,” he finally said, so soft that she wasn’t sure if she heard it. “You’ve come back in time. Children can only move forward. Your child lives, but not in this time. Only in the future.”

“But…” she began, trembling, “I thought vampires can only travel back in time, not forwards.”

“True,” he said. “I am afraid that your child lives in a time and place without you.” He lowered his eyes again. “I am so sorry,” he added.

With those final words, he turned and left.

And Caitlin felt as if a dagger had been plunged into her heart.

CHAPTER FOUR

Caitlin sat in the stark room of the Franciscan monastery and looked out through the open window, into the night. She had finally stopped crying. It had been hours since she’d left the priest, since she’d heard the news of her lost child. She hadn’t been able to stop the tears, or to stop thinking about the life she would have led. It was all too painful.

But after many hours, she cried herself out, and now all that was left were dried up tears on her cheeks. She looked out the window, trying to distract herself, and breathed deep.

The Umbrian countryside spread out before her, and from this vantage point, high up on a hill, she could the rolling hills of Assisi. There was a full moon out, enough light for her to see that this was a truly beautiful countryside. She saw the small, country cottages dotting the landscape, the smoke rising from the chimneys, and she could already feel that this was a quieter, more relaxed time in history.

Caitlin turned and surveyed her small room, lit only by the moonlight and a small candle burning on a wall sconce. It was made entirely of stone, with only a simple bed in the corner. She marveled at how it seemed to be her fate to always end up in a cloister. This place couldn’t be more different than Pollepel, yet at the same time, the small, medieval room reminded her of the room she’d had there. It was designed for introspection.