The Eternity Cure (32 page)

“The Prince has ordered that you be taken to the Sector Two gate,” he told us, and nodded at Kanin and Jackal. Another soldier, standing beside the humming vehicles, opened the back door as the guard motioned them inside. “Two to a car, if you would. The girl and the human can take the second one.”

“Why can’t we all go together?” I asked.

“I’m sorry, ma’am.” The soldier’s voice was polite but firm. “But we must escort you there like this.”

I could’ve argued, but Kanin and Jackal didn’t seem to care, beyond Jackal giving Kanin a smug look, which Kanin ignored. I guessed if the Prince wanted us dead, he would’ve killed us by now. “Fine,” I muttered, turning toward the second car. “Let’s go, Zeke.”

One we were inside, however, I realized why we’d been separated. It wasn’t on the Prince’s command after all.

Stick and his ever-present bodyguards sat across from us, their crossbows already drawn and angled at my heart. I felt Zeke tense, but the doors closed behind us, the locks clicking into place. Stick smiled, crossing his legs, gesturing to the seats across from him. “Sit down, Allie.”

Warily, we sat. The vehicle rumbled and began to move.

The lights of the city cast moving shadows across Stick’s face as he stared at me, fingers steepled under his chin. If he was trying to impress or intimidate me, I was so not having it. “What do you want, Stick?” I asked before he could say a word. His eyes narrowed, as if I’d stolen the first line from him, as if this was some kind of stupid game.

“My name,” he said, glaring at me, “is Stephen. Mr. Stephen, first aide to Prince Salazar himself. Stick was my worthless Fringer name, the name everyone thought I deserved. The name you and Lucas started calling me, because that’s all I was to you. Something that could be broken and easily thrown away.” His gaze slid to Zeke, who watched us in confusion, and his eyes glittered. “I used to be her best friend, you know. Did she tell you that? Back when we were both street rats, living in the Fringe? Did she ever mention us?”

“No,” said Zeke calmly. He sat with his arms crossed, regarding Stick warily. He had to feel the obvious tension rising between us, but his voice remained neutral. “I never asked.”

“Maybe you should someday,” Stick went on, ignoring my warning growl. “Maybe you should ask her about Lucas and how he died. Our old gang leader, you know. She cared for him, too, even though she tried to hide it. Poor Lucas.” Stick shook his head. “He thought he loved her, and got left to the rabids because of it.”

“Stick!” I bared my fangs, and the guards next to him raised their crossbows, stopping me. I seethed, furious and desperate to shut Stick up. My demon, of course, was urging me to silence him by ripping out his throat, and it had never been more tempting than it was at that moment.

But Zeke’s cool, soothing voice broke through the rising anger, stilling it for now. “Why are you telling me this?” he asked quietly, and I heard the disapproval in his tone. “I thought you two were friends.”

“Friends.” Stick gave a bitter smile. “Maybe once. I thought she was my friend. But she was just pretending. They all were. She’s good at that, you know.” Stick turned a wounded gaze on me, a flash of real hurt crossing his face. “She pretends to care about you, she pretends she wants you around, but it’s all an act. Nothing she shows you is real, isn’t that right, Allie?” He held my gaze, and to my shock, I saw the glimmer of tears before he blinked and they disappeared, almost too fast to be seen. “I wanted you to trust me, I wanted to show you that I could be more, but you never gave me the chance. You always thought I was worthless. Well, I’m not worthless now, am I?”

“I never thought of you like that,” I whispered through clenched teeth. “And if I closed myself off, it was because I couldn’t bear to see you die. I couldn’t bear to see any of you die.”

Stick laughed then. It was an ugly sound. “For all the good it did.” He turned to Zeke again, one corner of his mouth twisted and sneering. “Fair warning,” he said, glaring contemptuously at the other human. “Don’t get too close. She doesn’t trust anyone, and she’ll never let you in. Besides, everyone who gets close to her tends to disappear.”

“Thanks for the warning,” Zeke said. And, in full view of Stick, the guards and everyone, he very deliberately reached over and took my hand, lacing our fingers together. “But I think I’ll be fine.”

I’d never really seen Stick livid before, but the look he turned on Zeke could’ve peeled paint from the wall. Pure hate, anger and…jealousy?…darkened Stick’s expression, but Zeke stared back, unruffled, stroking my hand with his thumb and sending shivers up my arm. I sat rigid, watching Stick, seeing his face turn a dangerous red, his jaw clenching as he glared at the boy across from him.

Abruptly, Stick turned, snatched the gun from his guard’s belt and raised it, point-blank, at Zeke.

“Don’t move, Allie!” Stick cried as I jerked up, his glare wide and feverish. “If you move, all I have to do is pull the trigger, and his brains will be all over the back window. Keep going!” he yelled to the soldier up front, who cursed but continued to drive. “You see?” Stick went on, panting and grinning savagely. “You see how they listen? Everyone listens to me, except you! But now, you’ll listen to me, because I have the power. I can kill him—” He stabbed a glare at Zeke, raising the gun. “I can kill him now, and the Prince won’t care. He won’t care about one human. So you’ll start listening to me now, Allie, or I swear I’ll shoot him!”

“All right!” I held up a hand, trying to calm him down. Zeke was tense, both arms raised, his gaze never leaving the gun. I was quick, but I didn’t know if I could reach Stick before the gun went off. And at such a close range, Zeke would definitely die. “I’m listening, Stick,” I told him. “What the hell do you want from me?”

Stick grinned, eyes bright. “I want you to tell him—” he jerked the gun at Zeke again, who stiffened “—what happened to Lucas that night. And Rat. Go on, Allie, tell him. Tell him what happened to everyone else.”

“They died,” I answered, not really knowing where this was going. All I wanted was to get that gun out of his hands, but the muzzle was so close to Zeke’s face I wasn’t going to risk it.

“Why?” Stick demanded.

“They were killed by rabids.”

“Why?” Stick asked again, and I scowled. What did he want me to say? What the hell was he trying to prove? “Why were we there in the first place?” Stick asked, keeping his gaze on Zeke. “Why were we outside the Wall?”

I suddenly knew what he wanted. My shoulders slumped, not wanting to say it, to remember that night. But I had to. “We were outside the Wall,” I answered in a flat voice, “because I led us there.”

“And why did Lucas die?”

Lucas
. I glared at Stick, and he raised the gun a fraction, aiming for Zeke’s face. His eyes were hard. I clenched my fists and muttered, “Because…I left him.”

“To die,” Stick repeated.

Damn you, Stick.
“Yes.”

Anger, sorrow and guilt burned. I tried not to think about that night, to remember the horror and terror when the rabids had surrounded me, when they’d yanked Rat into the tall grass, when they’d dragged Lucas over a fence. But the memories were still painfully clear, as if it had happened yesterday. I remembered the way Lucas had stared at me, his eyes begging me to save him, right before the rabids pulled him into the darkness. Stick didn’t need to remind me. I already knew. It was my fault they had died, my fault we had all died.

I felt Zeke trying to catch my gaze, and glanced at him quickly. His face was grim, his eyes staring at me, trying to tell me something.
Be ready,
they seemed to say. I spared a quick glance at the guards. They seemed uncomfortable, still keeping the crossbows trained on me but also shooting Stick looks of anger and disgust. Obviously, their boss’s erratic behavior was making them uneasy, too.

Oblivious, Stick waggled the gun at Zeke, making me tense. “You see?” he asked the other boy. “She doesn’t care. She lets others die to save herself. Isn’t that right, Allie? Tell him. Tell him that you don’t care, that you’re just using him, just like Lucas.”

“I…” The words caught in my throat. Swallowing, I forced them out, making myself talk, to let Stick think I was playing his sick little game. “I don’t care about you, Zeke. Stick’s right. I’d leave you to the rabids if I had to, same as Lucas.” My eyes narrowed. “In fact, I’m about ready to let you die, just so I can get to Stick and rip his arms out of their sockets.”

Stick jerked, his attention flashing to me, and Zeke moved.

He ducked to the side, lunged forward, and grabbed the other boy’s wrist with both hands. Stick let out a yelp, fighting him, the gun flashing in a deadly arc between them. The guards gave shouts of their own, turning to the boys, and I hit one of them hard, slamming my fist into his nose, snapping his head back. The second was on the other side of Zeke and Stick, still grappling for the gun. He grabbed for the weapon, but a shot rang out, and the guard fell back, the side of his face covered in blood, his crossbow dropping to the floor.

All of this happened in the space of a heartbeat. As the gunshot boomed behind him, the driver swerved, lost control of the vehicle and smashed into the hulk of another car sitting on the sidewalk. The force jerked us all sideways, one of the guard’s bodies slamming into me as we hit the wall, his skull cracking against mine. As the car rocked to a halt, I pushed the body off to see Stick, dazed and still holding the gun, wrench open the door and stagger into the road. Zeke was right behind him, though, shoving away the second body and lunging out of the car.

I followed, reaching back to draw my sword, but it was clear Zeke didn’t need any help. As Stick stumbled away, raising the gun, Zeke leaped forward and smashed his fist across Stick’s jaw. Stick’s head snapped sideways, his body jerking as if an invisible string had been cut, and he sprawled limply on the pavement.

Panting, Zeke bent down and took the gun from Stick’s numb fingers. Releasing the clip with practiced ease, he stuffed it into a vest pocket, racking the slide to get the last round of the chamber. That also got tucked neatly away before he tossed the gun aside with a revolted look. As I came up, he held out an arm to me, and I stepped into him without hesitation, feeling his heart race through his vest as he hugged me close.

“You okay?” he murmured as we drew back. I nodded, then looked down at Stick’s limp body, lying on the cement, the snow falling around him. Rage flared, and I had to fight the overwhelming urge to pounce on him, drive my fist through his rib cage and tear the heart from his chest. Maybe Zeke knew what I was thinking, for his grip on my arms tightened.

“I’m fine, Allie,” he whispered. “It’s over.”

The first car with Kanin and Jackal had pulled around and was now speeding back toward us, the headlights blinding through the snow. I raised an arm, shielding my face as it skidded to a halt and the guards leaped out, pointing guns and crossbows in our direction.

“What’s going on here?”

Kanin and Jackal stepped out, too, regarding the body in the snow with looks of detached curiosity and amusement. No one, I noticed, went forward to see if Stick was all right, if he was even still alive. As the guard shouted at me again, demanding to know what had happened, Stick groaned and stirred weakly. I smelled the blood that streamed from his cut lip, spotting the snow, and felt a vindictive stab of pleasure. I hoped it hurt. I hoped he’d have a swollen jaw for weeks. He’d gotten off easy this time.

“Ask him,” I told the guard as the body in the snow struggled to rise. “He’s the one who tried to kill us.”

All eyes went to Stick, who clawed himself upright and stood there panting, glaring at me and Zeke. His face twisted into a mask of rage and hate.

“Kill him!” he spat, stabbing a finger in Zeke’s direction. I snarled and tensed, baring fangs, as Zeke put a warning hand on my arm. No one moved. “Well? What are you waiting for?” Stick snapped, staring at the guard captain. “Shoot him, now!”

The guard shifted uncomfortably. “Sir, that’s not really an option.”

“What?” Stick narrowed his eyes. “What did you say, Captain?”

“The Prince ordered us to escort them to the gate, sir.” The captain’s voice was stiff, flat. “All of them. We cannot countermand his orders, even for you.”

“He’s just a human!” Stick burst out. His eyes were bright and glassy, and a vein pulsed in his temple. “Not a vampire. The Prince won’t care about one human. Do as I say!”

“I would think very carefully about that,” came a low, deep voice. Kanin’s, from the edge of the circle. He stood in front of the car, while Jackal leaned casually against the hood, watching in amusement. Though both vampires were stationary, they stared at the humans with unmistakable menace, and Jackal’s eyes glowed in the shadows. “I would think very carefully on where you are standing, right now,” Kanin went on. “Alone, far from the Prince’s tower, surrounded by three vampires. If violence erupts, what do you think is going to happen here?”

The guards were pale now, as if they’d just realized their position and the danger from all sides. “Sir,” the captain said, turning back to Stick, his voice low and deliberately calm. “We need to go, now. Let’s get you back to the tower and inform the Prince of what has happened.” He motioned at Stick with his gun, his voice polite but brooking no argument. “Go, sir. Now.”

“And where do you think you’re going, exactly?” Jackal crooned, sliding off the hood of the car. An edge had crept into his voice, and his eyes glittered. “Running back to the Prince, are we? I don’t think so, bloodbags.”

Stick’s eyes widened, fear finally piercing the madness as he realized his guards were dead and the ones remaining could not protect him. Not from three angry vampires, far from the safety of the Prince’s tower.

I glanced at Kanin, expecting him to step in, but he said nothing, his face expressionless as he stood there, unmoving. The guards raised their weapons and shuffled hastily away, keeping Stick behind them. But between me and the other two vampires, there was nowhere for them to run.

Jackal’s gold eyes slid to mine, and he grinned, vicious and eager. “Come on then, sister. Let’s do this, you and me. I’ll even leave you the little parasite. You can rip his heart out and eat it in front of him if you like.”