Betrayed. Morgan Rice

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?

      And then she remembered her brother, Sam. Unconscious. Then, taken away by that vampire. What had happened to him? Was he safe?

      And Caleb. Why was he here? He should be pursuing the Sword. Stopping them. Was he here only for her sake? Was he sacrificing it all to stay at her side?

      Question after question raced through her mind.

      She summoned every ounce of strength she had, and opened her lips just the slightest bit.

      “The Sword,” she managed to say, her throat so dry it hurt to speak. “You must go…” she added. “You must save…”

      “Shhh,” Caleb said. “Just rest.”

      She wanted to say more. So much more. She wanted to tell him how much she loved him. How grateful she was. How she hoped that he would never leave her side.

      But it would have to wait. A new wave of fuzziness washed over her, and her lips simply would not open again. Despite herself, she found herself sinking, sinking, reeling back into the blackness, back into her state of immortal sleep.

      Two

      As Kyle flew over northern Manhattan, he had never felt so elated. Behind him flew Sergei, his obedient soldier, and behind him, hundreds of vampires that had joined them along the way. Kyle now held the fabled Sword in his belt, and nothing more need be said. Malevolent vampires all along the East Coast had already heard the news, and as Kyle flew over, many covens were eager to join him. They knew war was coming, and Kyle’s reputation preceded him. These mercenary vampires knew that, wherever he was going, he would be up to no good. And they wanted to be a part of it.

      Kyle felt the thrill of the growing army behind him, and felt another surge of confidence as he flew over the city. Sergei had done well in grabbing the Sword and stabbing that girl, Caitlin. In fact, Kyle had been surprised. He’d never imagined Sergei had it in him. He had underestimated him, and as a reward, he’d decided to keep him alive, realizing that he’d make a good sidekick. He was especially impressed that Sergei had dutifully handed him the Sword immediately after leaving the King’s Chapel. Yes, Sergei knew his place. If he kept this up, Kyle might even promote him, might even give him a small legion of his own. Kyle hated most things about most people, but the one thing he appreciated was loyalty.

      Especially after what his people, the Blacktide Coven, had done to him. After thousands of years of loyalty, Rexius, their supreme leader, had cast Kyle out as if he were nothing, as if his thousands of years of service had meant nothing. All for one little mistake. It was unthinkable.

      Kyle’s plan had worked perfectly. Now he wielded the Sword, and nothing – absolutely nothing – would get in his way. War with the human race, and with the other vampire races, would soon be his to wage.

      As Kyle continued downtown, now over Harlem, he dipped closer to the ground, using his vampire vision to zoom in on the details below. He grinned wider.

      His spreading of the Bubonic Plague has really worked. Pandemonium and chaos ruled. Those pathetic little humans were scrambling every which way, racing their cars the wrong way down one-way streets, arguing with each other, looting stores. He could see that most humans were covered in the horrible sores indicative of the plague. He could also see the corpses, already piled high on nearly every street corner. It was Armageddon down there. And nothing made him happier.

      It would only be a matter of days until every human in the city fell. At that point, Kyle and his men could easily wipe out the rest of them. They would feed as they had never fed before. And then would enslave the rest of the human race.

      The only small obstacle that remained in his way was the White Coven, those pathetic vampires who fed only on animals, who thought they were better than everyone else. Yes, they would try. But they would be no match for the Sword. When he finished with the humans, he would wipe them out next.

      First, and most importantly, he would take back his place in his own coven. And he would do it brutally. Rexius had made a grave mistake in punishing him, Kyle thought, as he reached up and felt the hardening scars all along the side of his face, his horrible fate, his punishment for letting Caitlin slip away. Rexius would pay for each and every one of Kyle’s scars. Rexius was powerful, but now, with the Sword, Kyle’s power was even greater. Kyle would not rest until Rexius lay dead, at his own hand, and until he himself was declared the new supreme leader.

      Kyle smiled wide at the thought. Supreme leader. After all these thousands of years. It was what he deserved. It was his destiny.

      Kyle and his men flew and flew, over Central Park, over Midtown, over Union Square, over Greenwich Village… and finally, they reached City Hall Park.

      Kyle descended gracefully, landing on his feet, and the flock of now hundreds of vampires landed behind him. Kyle’s army had grown beyond belief. What a way to return, he thought.

      Kyle was about to head to the gates of City Hall, to crash down its door and begin his war, when he noticed something out of the corner of his eye. Something that bothered him.

      Kyle used his vision to zoom in over several blocks, and to look closely at the pandemonium in front of the Brooklyn Bridge. Hundreds of cars were stuck in traffic, jammed up against each other, backlogged in front of the bridge. All wanting to get out.

      But the bridge was cordoned off. Blocking the way were several military tanks and trucks, on top of which sat dozens of soldiers, machine guns aimed at the crowd. Clearly, no humans were being allowed off the island of Manhattan. The military must not have wanted the plague to spread. They had probably locked down all the bridges and tunnels.

      On the one hand, that was exactly what Kyle had wanted: it made life easier, since all the humans would be trapped in Manhattan, and he could kill them all more easily.

      But on the other hand, now that he actually saw it with his own eyes, it made his stomach turn. He hated authority – of any kind. And that included the military. He almost sympathized with the masses of humans, clamoring to get off the island. They were being stopped by authority figures. Kyle’s veins burned at the thought.

      At the same time, a new idea came to him. Why not let some humans off the island? In fact, that would only serve his purpose. They would spread the plague further. To Brooklyn, to start. Yes, that could be very convenient indeed.

      Kyle suddenly lifted back into the air, flying towards the base of the Brooklyn Bridge. Immediately, the hundreds of vampires followed him, on his heels.

      Good, he thought. They were loyal and obedient, and they didn’t ask questions. This would be a very convenient army indeed.

      Kyle landed at the base of the Brooklyn Bridge, setting down on the hood of a car, and the hundreds of vampires landed on cars behind him, the sound of their boots click-clacking as they touched down.

      Car horns suddenly flared up. It seemed the humans didn’t like people walking on their cars.

      A new rage washed over Kyle, as he thought of the ingratitude of these pathetic humans, blaring their horns as he had come to help them.

      Standing on the hood of a Saab SUV,