Vowed. Morgan Rice
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out in the remote Southern corner of Scotland. Kyle would find him now. After all, Kyle had taught him everything he knew, and he figured Rynd owed him one. It was the least he could do for his old mentor. All Kyle needed from him was for him to summon his old shapeshifting trick, just once.
Kyle, ankle deep in mud, smiled at the thought of it. Yes, Rynd was exactly what he needed to dupe Caitlin, to finish her off for good. This time, it was a plan that could not fail.
Kyle looked up, taking in the scene. It was cold, and windy, and the dampness in the air seeped into his bones. It was twilight, his favorite time of day, and there was a heavy fog creeping over the ancient wood. It was just his kind of day. If there was anything Kyle loved more than twilight, it was fog. Kyle felt positively at home.
Suddenly, his senses were on high alert. A creepy feeling raised the hair on his skin, and something told him that Rynd was close.
As Kyle walked into the fog, he heard a slight creaking, and looked up and spotted something moving. As the fog parted, Kyle could make out a barren forest of dead trees, and as he looked closer, he saw objects hanging from the branches.
As he stepped forward and examined them, he realized they were bodies – humans – dead, hanging upside down by their feet, tied by rope to the branches. They swung slowly in the wind, and the sound of rope creaking on wood permeated the air. From the look of these corpses, it seemed they had been killed long ago; their skin was blue, there were telltale holes in their necks, and Kyle realized they had been fed upon, drained of blood.
Rynd’s work.
As the fog continued to part, Kyle spotted hundreds – no thousands – of bodies, all hanging. It was obvious that they’d all been kept alive for some time, tortured slowly for days. It was sadistic, malicious stuff.
Kyle admired it. It was something he himself would have done in his heyday.
Kyle knew that Rynd had to be very, very close.
Suddenly, out of the mist, there appeared a solitary figure, slowly approaching. Kyle squinted into the fog, trying to make out who it was.
And when he realized, his heart stopped.
It couldn’t be.
Standing there, before him, was his mother. His real mother, his human mother, before he was ever turned. It was the one person he loved most in the world, the one person who could recall what a kind person he had been before he’d been turned – and the one person who reminded him of his own humanity.
Kyle felt as if he’d been struck through the heart. Pangs of guilt and remorse tore him apart.
At the sight of her, he dropped to his knees, and wept.
“Mother!” Kyle yelled, weeping like a child.
She came closer to him, arms outstretched, a compassionate smile on her face.
Kyle could not comprehend what she was doing in this time and place. Had she come to ask him to repent?
“Come to me, my child,” she said, beckoning him.
Kyle rose to his feet, and took a step forward to her.
The second he did, he regretted it.
Suddenly, he felt his whole world turn upside down, as he went rocketing upwards into the air. This was followed by a loud creaking noise, and as Kyle swung side to side, staring down at the ground, he realized he’d stepped into a trap.
The silver rope had tightened around his feet, had propelled him high into the air, twenty feet off the ground, dangling upside down. Kyle reached up to tear it off, but realized it was vampire-resistant material, one he could not tamper with.
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