The Forever Song (25 page)

A shadow crossed his face, his brow creasing with worry and a little fear. I knew what he was thinking—whether he’d be able to control himself around those kids, both of whom adored him. “What am I going to tell them?” he whispered, his voice catching a little. “How am I going to explain what happened to me? When we were searching for Eden, before you joined us, everyone knew vampires were evil monsters that ate little kids. I told them that myself.” His face tightened, his expression full of regret and pain. “What will they think of me now?”

“You have to tell them the truth,” I said, and he flinched. “And they’ll either accept it or they won’t. But you’re not the first vampire they’ve seen, Zeke. And I know Caleb, at least, isn’t as terrified of vampires as he should be.”

“Not anymore,” Zeke said in a wry voice. “Not after he met you.”

I smiled, remembering Caleb, a thin, dark-haired kid and the toughest six-year-old I’d ever met. He’d been through so much, seen so much, on his journey to Eden: rabids, wild animals, evil bikers and sadistic raider kings. He’d lost an older sister to rabids and had nearly died himself a few times, but had come out of that whole nightmare ordeal a true survivor. Perhaps a little more hardened than he should have been, but one thing that had disappeared completely was his fear of vampires. Or, at least, of one vampire.

“So, I think they’ll understand,” I finished. “They love you, Zeke. It won’t matter if you’re not human anymore.” I put a hand over his wrist and squeezed gently. “And don’t worry about the monster—I’ll be right there. If you feel yourself slipping, just keep your eyes on me.”

“Allie…” His eyes were suddenly sapphire pools of emotion and longing, peering up at me in the darkness. It sent a ripple of heat through my insides, a stirring of Hunger that was familiar and strange at the same time. Lowering my head, I kissed him, and his arms wrapped around me, pressing me close.

I slid my hands down his stomach, my fingers slipping beneath his shirt, and Zeke’s grip tightened, his kisses turning hungry, too. My lips left his mouth and trailed a path down his jaw to his neck, and he moaned, arching his head back. Offering his throat. I paused, my mouth hovering over his skin, fangs throbbing against my gums. I wanted to feel him again, like I had in Old Chicago when the compulsion was finally broken. Not just his blood, but his emotions and thoughts and secrets and fears. I wanted to see him when nothing separated us, when everything was laid bare.

But if I started down that road, I wouldn’t be able to stop. And we were so close to Eden now, with Jackal and Kanin just a few streets away. The last thing I wanted was for my sire to get impatient and come looking for us. Or worse, Jackal.

Raising my head, I kissed his lips, lingering and soft, taking us back into safe territory. Zeke didn’t fight me, didn’t press forward, letting us both cool down before I pulled back. Though his eyes still smoldered when I looked down at him, the tips of his fangs visible in the darkness.

“We should go,” I said reluctantly. “Kanin and Jackal…”

“Yeah.” Zeke sighed, sounding as grudging as I felt, and released me. We climbed off the mattress, checked and rebuckled our weapons in place, and left the room together.

Following my blood tie, we found Kanin and Jackal in a small garage a few streets down. Jackal was kneeling on the pavement, holding up the front of a car with one shoulder, his jaw clenched in concentration while he fiddled with the tire. At his back, Kanin watched impassively and turned as we came up.

“Good. You’re here.” The Master vampire nodded to us, his dark gaze lingering on Zeke. “We’re almost ready to leave. As soon as James finishes, we can get on the road again.”

“You know,” Jackal grunted, gritting his teeth as he screwed the last nut into the hubcap, “this would’ve been a lot easier if I didn’t have to hold up the freaking car
and
change the tire at the same time. I suppose once you hit Master vamp status, you’re excluded from such ignoble work. Wouldn’t want those special fingers to get greasy, right?” He gave the screw a final twist, then let the vehicle drop and bounce to the pavement. “Then again, I doubt any of you would know the throttle from the gas cap.”

Dusting off his hands, he rose and shot a quizzical stare at Zeke. “Well, look who’s feeling better,” he mocked, raising an eyebrow. “Did you two work through your feelings over a nice slaughtered baby or something?” His grin grew wider, turned into a leer. “Or…did something
else
happen to take your mind off things?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” Zeke answered coolly, before I could kick Jackal in the shin. Jackal blinked, taken aback for just a moment, before barking a harsh laugh.

“Aw, look at that. The puppy is finally showing some teeth.” He snickered, then leaned an elbow against the car, regarding Zeke appraisingly. “Think you can manage to show those fangs when we face your big bad sire, puppy? Or are you going to slink off with your tail between your legs?”

Zeke smiled back, but it was a dangerous, lethal smile, fangs glinting in the shadows as he faced Jackal down. “I haven’t forgotten,” he said in a soft, ominous voice, as the temperature in the garage dropped a few degrees, and Jackal frowned in confusion. “What you did to my family, I haven’t forgotten it. I still intend to keep my promise. One night, you’ll look up, and I’ll be there. So, don’t get too comfortable. I’m still going to kill you when this is all over.”

Jackal stared at him. Silence fell, and I resisted the urge to draw my sword. On the other side of the car, Kanin didn’t move, but I could feel the tension in the room, four vampires waiting to see what the others would do.

Then Jackal chuckled and pushed himself off the door, shaking his head. “Well, you’re welcome to try, puppy,” he said, as the tension diffused somewhat. “It’s going to be a shame to kill you—you have the potential to be a decent bloodsucker. But I’d wait until we find Sarren before you start making your little death threats. That lovely message we found? That means he knows the compulsion is broken. And I’ll bet he’s not too thrilled with his special minion having free will again. He’ll be looking for any chance to turn you inside out.” Jackal smiled evilly and leaned closer to Zeke, fangs gleaming. “So I’m not the one you need to worry about,” he sneered. “Try me again when we have the psycho’s head on the end of a long spike. I’ll be more than happy to stick yours next to it.”

“Enough.” Kanin’s deep, stern voice broke through the standoff. “Now is not the time to fight among ourselves,” he lectured, narrowing his eyes at the three of us. “Sarren is very close. And he will use every opportunity to slow us down, turn us against one another.” His gaze went to Zeke, who lowered his eyes. “If we are to stop him, we must put aside vengeance, put aside hatred and doubt and uncertainty, and trust each other. If only for a moment. Can you do that, Ezekiel?”

“Yeah.” Zeke sighed, bowing his head. “I got it.”

“Then let us go. We’re nearly there.”

“Oh, sure,” Jackal remarked, opening the passenger door. “No,
‘Hey, thanks, Jackal, for fixing the car. We’d all be hoofing it to Eden if you weren’t here.’
” He slid into the chair and slammed the door behind him. “Next time we get a flat, you’re on your own. In fact, I think
some
lazy little fucks who won’t be named need to learn the basics of changing a tire.”

“Shouldn’t be hard,” I replied, sliding into the back with Zeke. “We’ll just fill it using the hot air shooting out of your mouth.”

“Allison.” Kanin sighed. “Please.” And we fell silent as he started the engine, turned the vehicle around, and cruised off down the road, back toward the highway and the last stretch of our journey.

Chapter 13

We drove on as if nothing had happened since the van had died near Old Chicago, with Kanin and Jackal up front pretending to ignore each other, and me and Zeke in the back. There were subtle differences, though. Zeke was quiet, but it wasn’t the empty, hopeless silence of the nights before. I could sense him thinking, the worry plain on his face. His thoughts were probably with his family: with Caleb and Bethany, Matthew and Jake, old Silas and Theresa, the people he’d left behind. Eden was supposed to be their haven; that’s what was promised, a city free of monsters and vampires. A place where humans were safe. But now, Sarren threatened even that.

Shifting closer, I put a hand on his knee, making him blink and glance over. His face was somber, eyes shadowed with worry, but it was far better than seeing absolutely nothing when I looked at him. “They’ll be all right,” I murmured, and the hint of a smile crossed his lips.

“I hope so.”

“There you go again.” Jackal sighed from the front. “Getting the puppy’s hopes up. More likely, every bloodbag on Eden is screaming and tearing their faces off, but, oh, no, no one wants to hear that.” He waved a hand. “So, go ahead, tell him that everything is going to be fine. All the meatsacks are perfectly content on their happy little island, Sarren has given up world destruction to raise kittens, and the magic wish fairy will wave her wand and turn shit into gold.”

Zeke tensed under my fingers, and I glanced over at Kanin. “Can I stab him, please?”

“Hey, I’m just being a realist, here.” Jackal laced his hands behind his head, leaning back with a snort. “Someone in this fucked-up family has to be.”

Nobody said anything to that. Zeke settled back in the seat, eyes dark, but after a moment, he shifted close and pulled me against him, wrapping me in his arms. His gaze remained worried and preoccupied, his chin resting on my shoulder, but he never relented his grip. Like I was an anchor keeping him from plummeting into the dark. I relaxed into him and tried to keep my thoughts on Eden, Sarren and the task before us. Not the smooth skin of his throat, inches from my lips.

Maybe an hour into the drive, the dark, endless expanse of Lake Erie began appearing through the trees and crumbling buildings, keeping us company as we rode through the night. Still settled against Zeke, I watched the forest zip by through the windows, the black waters of the lake glimmering through the trees, and had the vague sense that this was all very familiar somehow.

A car flashed by in the headlights, a rotting hunk of metal on the side of the road, jarring my memory. The road before us was empty and lifeless, but I remembered: a night in the rain, a deserted stretch of pavement, a thousand rabids clawing themselves out of the dirt to come at us.

“Kanin,” I murmured, gently freeing myself from Zeke’s arms, “I think we’re close.”

More cars appeared, lying in ditches or abandoned on the side of the road, their doors gaping open. Zeke stirred beside me, peering out the front window, scanning the tops of the trees.

“The spotlight is gone,” he said darkly. “They always keep it lit, to guide people to the checkpoint, let them know they’re close.” His eyes narrowed, and my uneasiness grew. “We have to hurry.”

Kanin didn’t answer, but his grip on the wheel tightened, and the vehicle picked up speed. The cars and trees thinned, vanishing altogether, until there was nothing but open pavement. A long, lonely strip of blacktop, leading to a pair of huge iron gates at the end of the road.

Kanin brought the car to a rolling halt, switching off the headlights. I clenched my fist against Jackal’s seat, excitement warring with apprehension. There it was. Finally. Eden, or the last barrier before getting to Eden. Beyond those gates was a military compound where the ones who made it this far got a final checkup before being allowed into the fabled city. I remembered driving through those gates with Zeke and the others, the dazed relief from the humans because we were finally safe. We’d finally made it.

And I remembered walking out again, through those same gates, leaving it all behind. Because I was a vampire, and Eden, as I’d always known, was not for someone like me.

But the gates wouldn’t be the only barrier keeping us from Eden tonight. A huge pale swarm milled around the wall, shrieking and clawing. Dozens of rabids, maybe hundreds, surrounding the gates that led into the checkpoint.

“Oh, no.” Zeke stiffened beside me. “Something is definitely wrong. The rabids usually stay away from the gates— the soldiers use them for target practice if they get too close.”

“Well, something’s sure got them all riled up,” Jackal said, his boots still propped on the dash, one arm dangling out the open window. “And they’re not going to let us walk up and knock on the door, that’s for damn sure. Any thoughts on how to get in? I guess finding a meatsack and using it for bait is out….” He sighed as both Zeke and I glared at him. “Hey, I’m just throwing out suggestions. And don’t scowl at me, puppy. You certainly didn’t have any qualms dicing a few minions to get us where you wanted in Old Chicago.”

Zeke’s lip curled, showing fangs, and I put a hand on his arm. Now was not a good time for a fight to break out; the rabids would notice and be on top of us in a heartbeat. “Kanin?” I asked instead, watching my sire. “Any ideas?”

Kanin stayed silent, observing the swarm claw and leap at the barrier. Without answering, he reached up and flipped on the headlights, then almost instantly switched them off again. He did this several more times, flashing the lights in a strange pattern I didn’t recognize. Three short flashes, followed by three longer ones, then three short ones again. Several of the rabids noticed and broke away from the wall, edging toward the vehicle.

Jackal cocked his head, watching the approaching monsters. “Well, if you were trying to get their attention, old man, congratulations. Here they come. Not sure they get the whole Morse code thing, but who knows?”

Beyond the swarm, at the top of the wall, a light suddenly clicked on, the quick gleam of a flashlight. It flashed three times, and Zeke straightened quickly.

“Someone is up there,” he said, his voice threaded with relief.

Kanin nodded. “Let us hope it is a human and not Sarren,” he murmured, and glanced over at Jackal, still slouched back in his seat. “I’d roll up the window, were I you,” he added.

Jackal frowned. “Roll up the window? Why…oh.” Jackal quickly swung his boots off the dashboard. “Shit. Guess we’re gonna go knock on the door after all.”