VENGEANCE WILL BE HERS

ALLISON SEKEMOTO ONCE STRUGGLED WITH THE QUESTION: HUMAN OR MONSTER?

WITH THE DEATH OF HER LOVE, ZEKE, SHE HAS HER ANSWER.

MONSTER

Allie will embrace her cold vampire side to hunt down and end Sarren, the psychopathic vampire who murdered Zeke. But the trail is bloody and long, and Sarren has left many surprises for Allie and her companions—her creator, Kanin, and her blood brother, Jackal. The trail is leading straight to the one place they must protect at any cost—the last vampire-free zone on Earth, Eden. And Sarren has one final, brutal shock in store for Allie.

In a ruined world where no life is sacred and former allies can turn on you in one heartbeat, Allie will face her darkest days. And if she succeeds, triumph is short-lived in the face of surviving forever alone.

PRAISE FOR BESTSELLING AUTHOR
JULIE KAGAWA

‘Katniss Everdeen better watch out.’ —Huffington Post on The Immortal Rules

‘Julie Kagawa is one killer storyteller.’

—MTV

‘A book that will keep its readers glued to the pages until the very end.’

—New York Journal of Books

‘Kagawa pulls her readers into a unique world of make-believe with her fantastic storytelling, and ultimately leaves them wanting more by the end of each book.’

—Times Record News

‘Kagawa has done the seemingly impossible and written a vampire book … that feels fresh in an otherwise crowded genre.’

—Kirkus Reviews on The Immortal Rules

‘An intense and thought-provoking series’

—School Library Journal on The Eternity Cure

‘Surpasses the greater majority of dark fantasies’

—teenreads.com

JULIE KAGAWA is the internationally bestselling author of the Iron Fey and Blood of Eden series. Born in Sacramento, she has been a bookseller and an animal trainer and enjoys reading, painting, playing in her garden and training in martial arts. She lives near Louisville, Kentucky, with her husband and a plethora of pets. Visit her at www.juliekagawa.com.

For official Blood of Eden news and extras, visit www.BloodofEden.com.

Available from Julie Kagawa and

Blood of Eden series (in reading order)

THE IMMORTAL RULES

THE ETERNITY CURE

The Iron Fey series (in reading order)

THE IRON KING

WINTER’S PASSAGE (eBook) THE IRON DAUGHTER THE IRON QUEEN SUMMER’S CROSSING (eBook) THE IRON KNIGHT IRON’S PROPHECY (eBook) THE LOST PRINCE THE IRON TRAITOR

To Nick. Your ideas are invaluable.

And to my readers. Your tears feed my muse.

Contents

Quotation

Part I

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Part II

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Part III

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Acknowledgments

Questions for Discussion

Extract

“I don’t expect you to understand, little bird. I expect you only to sing. Sing for me, sing for Kanin, and make it a glorious song.”

—Sarren

Part I

DEMON

Chapter 1

The outpost gate creaked in the wind, swinging back on its hinges. It knocked lightly against the wall, a rhythmic tapping sound that echoed in the looming silence. A cold breeze swirled through the gap, and the scent of blood lay on the air like a heavy blanket.

“He’s been here,” Kanin murmured at my side. The Master vampire was a dark statue against the falling snow, motionless and calm, but his eyes were grave. I regarded the fence impassively, the wind tugging at my coat and straight black hair.

“Is there any point in going in?”

“Sarren knows we’re following him” was the low reply. “He meant for us to see this. He wants us to know that he knows. There will likely be something waiting for us when we step through the gate.”

Footsteps crunched over the snow as Jackal stalked around us, black duster rippling behind him. His eyes glowed a vicious yellow as he peered up at the gate. “Well then,” he said, the tips of his fangs showing through his grin, “if he went through all the trouble of setting this up, we shouldn’t keep the psycho waiting, should we?”

He started forward, his step confident as he strode through the broken gate toward the tiny settlement beyond. After a moment’s hesitation, Kanin and I followed.

The smell of blood grew stronger once we were past the wall, though nothing moved on the narrow path that snaked between houses. The flimsy wood and tin shanties were silent, dark, as we ventured deeper, passing snow-covered porches and empty chairs. Everything looked intact, undisturbed. There were no bodies. No corpses mutilated in their beds, no blood spattered over the walls of the few homes we ducked into. There weren’t even any dead animals in the tiny trampled pasture past the main strip. Just snow and emptiness.

And yet, the smell of blood soaked this place, hanging thick in the air, making my stomach ache and the Hunger roar to life. I bit it down, gritting my teeth to keep from snarling in frustration. It had been too long. I needed food. The scent of blood was driving me crazy, and the fact that there were no humans here made me furious. Where were they? It wasn’t possible that an entire outpost of mortals had up and disappeared without a trace.

And then, as we followed the path around the pasture and up to the huge barn at the top of the rise, we found the townspeople.

A massive barren tree stood beside the barn, twisted branches clawing at the sky. They swayed beneath the weight of dozens of bodies hanging upside down from ropes tied to the limbs. Men, women, even a few kids swinging in the breeze, dangling arms stiff and white. Their throats had been cut, and the base of the tree was stained black, the blood spilled and wasted in the snow. But the smell nearly knocked me over regardless, and I clenched my fists, the Hunger raking my insides with fiery talons.

“Well,” Jackal muttered, crossing his arms and gazing at the tree, “isn’t that festive?” His voice was tight as if he, too, was on the edge of losing it. “I’m guessing this is the reason we haven’t found a single bloodbag from here all the way back to New Covington.” He growled, shaking his head, lips curling back from his fangs. “This guy is really starting to piss me off.”

I swallowed the Hunger, trying to focus through the gnawing ache. “Why, James, don’t tell me you feel sorry for the walking meatsacks,” I taunted, because sometimes, goading Jackal was the only thing that kept my mind off everything else. He rolled his eyes.

“No, sister, I’m annoyed because they don’t have the decency to be alive so I can eat them,” he returned with a flash of fangs and a rare show of temper. He glared at the bodies hungrily. “Fucking Sarren,” he said. “If I didn’t want the psychopath dead so badly, I would say the hell with it. If this keeps up, we’re going to have to break off the trail to find a meatsack whose throat hasn’t been slit, which is probably what the bastard wants.” He sighed, giving me an exasperated look. “This would be so much easier if you hadn’t killed the Jeep.”

“For the last time,” I growled at him, “I just pointed out the street that wasn’t blocked off. I didn’t leave those nails in the road for you to drive over.”

“Allison.”

Kanin’s quiet voice broke through our argument, and we turned. Our sire stood at one corner of the barn, his face grim as he beckoned us forward. With a last glance at the tree and its grisly contents, I walked over to him, feeling the sharp stab of Hunger once more. The barn reeked of blood, even more than the branches of the tree. Probably because one whole wall of the building was streaked with it, dried and black, painted in vertical lines up and down the wood.

“Let’s keep moving,” Kanin said when Jackal and I joined him. His voice was calm, though I knew he was just as Hungry as the rest of us. Maybe more so, since he was still recovering from his near-death experience in New Covington. “There are no survivors here,” Kanin went on, with a solemn look back at the tree, “and we are running out of time. Sarren is expecting us.”

“How do you figure, old man?” Jackal asked, following me to the side of the barn. “Yeah, this is the psycho’s handiwork, but he could’ve done this just for the jollies. You sure he knows we’re coming?”

Kanin didn’t answer, just gestured to the blood-streaked wall beside us. I looked over, as did Jackal, but couldn’t see anything unusual. Beyond a wall completely covered in blood, anyway.

But Jackal gave a low, humorless chuckle. “Oh, you bastard.” He smiled, shaking his head and staring up at the barn. “That’s cute. Let’s see if you’re as funny when I’m beating you to death with your own arm.”

“What?” I asked, obviously missing something. I stared at the barn again, wondering what the other vampires saw that I didn’t. “What’s so funny? I don’t see anything.”

Jackal sighed, stepped behind me, and hooked the back of my collar, pulling me away from the wall. “Hey!” I snarled, fighting him. “Let go! What the hell are you doing?”

He ignored me, continuing to walk backward, dragging me with him. We were about a dozen paces away from the wall before he stopped, and I yanked myself from his grip. “What is your problem?” I demanded, baring my fangs. Jackal silently pointed back to the barn.

I glanced at the wall again and stiffened. Now that I was farther away, I could see what Kanin and Jackal were talking about.

Sarren, I thought, the cold, familiar hate spreading through my insides. You sick bastard. This won’t stop me, and it won’t save you. When I find you, you’ll regret ever hearing my name.

Painted across the side of the barn, written in bloody letters about ten feet tall, was a question. One that proved, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that Sarren knew we were coming. And that we were probably walking right into a trap.

HUNGRY YET?

* * *

It had been two weeks since we’d left New Covington.

Two weeks travel, of walking down endless, snow-covered roads. Two weeks of cold and wilderness and dead, silent towns. Of empty houses wrapped in vines, deserted streets, ancient hulks of cars rusting in the gutters. No movement, except for the skitter of wildlife, both large and small, overtaking the streets humans had once ruled. The Jeep, as Jackal had so eloquently pointed out, was dead, leaving the three of us to wander the empty roads on foot, following a madman who knew we were coming. Who was always one step ahead of us.

Time was running out, Kanin had said. In a way, I supposed that was true. What Sarren had, what he carried, could spell the end for a lot of people. Maybe the whole world. Sarren possessed a mutated version of the Red Lung virus that had destroyed the world six decades ago, only this one came with a nasty little side effect: it killed vampires, too. The three of us—me, Jackal, and Kanin—had been exposed to Sarren’s virus when we were in New Covington and had seen the true horror of the plague. Humans had turned into insane wretches who screamed and laughed and clawed at their faces until their skin was all but gone, and attacked anything they came across. For vampires, the effects were even more horrific; the virus ate their dead flesh, and they rotted away from the inside. In the final confrontation with Sarren, we’d learned that the insane vampire was using New Covington only as a test site, that his real intentions were far more sinister.

He planned to kill everything. All humans, and all vampires. Wipe the slate clean, he’d told me, and let the world finally heal itself. His virus, when he released it again, would be unstoppable.

There was just one small kink in his plans.

We had a cure. Or at least, we’d had one. It was in Eden now, that small bit of hope for the rest of the world. That was what Sarren wanted; the cure, either to destroy or to turn against us. He thought we were tracking him to Eden to stop him, to prevent him from destroying the cure or releasing his virus. He thought we were trying to save the world.

He didn’t know. I didn’t care about Eden. I didn’t care about his virus, or the cure, or the rest of the world. It made no difference to me if the humans found a cure for Rabidism, or if they could stop Sarren’s new plague. Humans meant nothing to me, not anymore. They were food, and I was a vampire. I was done pretending that I was anything less than a monster.

But I would kill Sarren.

He would die for what he’d done, what he’d destroyed. I would tear him apart, and I would make him suffer. There had been four of us that night in New Covington, when we had faced the mad vampire for the last time. When I had cut the arm from his body and he’d fled into the dark, only to return later for his most horrible deed yet. Four of us: me, Jackal, Kanin...and one other. But I couldn’t think of him now. He was gone. And I was still a monster.

“Hey.”

Abruptly, Jackal slowed and dropped back to where I trailed several paces behind Kanin’s dark, steady figure, following the road that stretched on through the frozen plains. We’d left the outpost and its slaughtered residents a few miles back, and the scent of blood had finally faded into the wind. That didn’t stop the Hunger, though; I could feel it even now, a constant throbbing ache, poised to flare into an inferno of raw, vicious need at the slightest provocation. It even raged at Jackal, annoyed that he wasn’t human, that I couldn’t spin around and sink my fangs into his throat. Jackal seemed happily oblivious.

I ignored him and kept my gaze straight ahead, not really in the mood for a fight or listening to his barbed, obnoxious comments. That, of course, never stopped my blood brother.

“So, sister,” Jackal went on, “I’ve been wondering. When we finally do catch up to Sarren, how do you think we should kill the old bastard? I’m thinking maiming and torture for as long as we can stand it.” He snapped his fingers. “Hey, maybe we can tie him half in and half out of the sun, that’s always interesting. Did that to some undead bastard who pissed me off several years back. The light began at his feet and crawled up toward his face, and it took a very long time for him to finally kick it. By the end, he was screaming at me to cut off his head.” He snickered. “I’d love to watch Sarren die like that. If that doesn’t offend your delicate sensibilities, that is.”

He smirked then, his gold eyes burning the side of my head. “Just wanted to give you a heads-up, little sister, in case you decide to go bleeding heart on me. Of course, if you have a suggestion for how we should do the old psycho in, I’d love to hear it.”

“I don’t care,” I said flatly. “Do whatever you want. As long as I get to land the final blow, I couldn’t care less.”

Jackal huffed. “Well, that’s not very fun.”

I didn’t answer, walking faster to get away from him, and he quickened his pace to keep up.

“Come on, sister, where’s that obnoxious morality you kept throwing in my face every two seconds? You’re making it very difficult to take any sort of pleasure in mocking it relentlessly.”

“Why are you talking to me?” I asked, still not looking at him. Jackal let out an exasperated sigh.

“Because I’m bored. And the old man doesn’t give me the time of day.” He jerked his head at Kanin, still several yards ahead. I suspected Kanin could hear us, but he didn’t turn around or give any indication that he was listening. And Jackal probably didn’t care if he was. “And because I want to know your thoughts on our brilliantly disturbed serial killer.” Jackal waved an impatient hand at the plains surrounding us. “It’s still a long way to Eden, and I get the feeling we’re not going to find any bloodbags—living ones anyway—from here to Meatsack Island. I don’t particularly like the idea of facing the nut job with you and Kanin on the edge of losing it.”

I flicked a glance at him and frowned. “What about you?”

“Oh, don’t worry about me, sister.” Jackal grinned. “I always come out on top, no matter what. I just want to point out that this annoying ‘Scorched Earth’ policy Sarren has picked up is going to make it very difficult for you. A couple more days of this, and the next human we see is going to be ripped to shreds—and you’ll be the one doing it.”

I shrugged. Jackal’s revelation wasn’t surprising, and I found that I really didn’t care. Wherever Sarren went, whatever forgotten corner of the country he fled to, I wouldn’t be far behind. No matter what he did, no matter how far or fast he ran, I would catch up to him, and then he would pay for what he had done. “So what?” I asked, returning my gaze to the road. “I’m a vampire. What does it matter?”

“Oh, please.” I could hear the pity in his voice, and the disgust. “Enough with this ‘I don’t care anymore’ shit. You know you’re going to have to deal with it sometime.”

A cold fist grabbed my insides. Jackal wasn’t talking about feeding, and we both knew it. Memories rose up—memories of him—but then the monster emerged, swallowing them before I could feel anything. “I have dealt with it,” I said calmly.

“No, you haven’t.” My brother’s voice was suddenly hard. “You’ve just buried it. And if you don’t get a handle on it soon, it’s going to come out at the worst possible time. Probably when we’re facing Sarren. Because that’s how the psychopath’s mind works—he knows just what to say, and when, to throw us off and give him the full advantage. And then he’s either going to kill you while you’re down and I’ll be annoyed, or I’m going to have to do it myself.”

“Better be careful, Jackal.” My voice came out cold. Empty, because I couldn’t feel anything, even now. “It almost sounds like you care.”

“Oh, well, perish the thought, sister.” Jackal gave me a sneer and moved away. “I’ll stop talking, then. But if we reach Sarren, and he says something to make you fall apart, don’t expect me to pick up the pieces.”

You won’t have to worry about that, I thought as Jackal walked on, shaking his head. A memory flickered, jagged and indistinct, and my inner demon pushed it back. There’s nothing left to break. Nothing Sarren says can touch me now.

We walked a few more miles, through empty flatlands frozen under a layer of snow and ice, until the stars faded and a pink hue threatened the eastern sky. I was just starting to get uncomfortable when Kanin turned off the road and headed toward a gray, dilapidated barn sagging at the end of an overgrown field, a rusting silo beside it. The inside of the ancient building was musty and filled with broken beams and stacks of moldy straw. But it was also dark, secluded, and didn’t have many holes in the roof where the sun could creep through. Ignoring Jackal’s complaints about sleeping in a filthy, rat-infested barn, I pushed open a rotting stall door, found a shadowy corner behind a stack of rancid hay, and sank against the wall to sleep.

For just a moment, memory stirred again, like fragments of someone else’s life, rising up from the dark. I remembered another barn like this one, warm and musty, filled with the soft bleats of livestock and the murmur of the humans around me. Hay and lanterns and contentment. A spotted baby goat, sitting in my lap, two human kids pressed close on either side, watching me feed it.

The monster roused. I’d been Hungry then, too, and had watched as the two humans fell asleep, baring their unsuspecting little necks to the vampire they’d unwittingly curled up against. I remembered bending forward, toward the throat of the child on my lap, as my fangs lengthened and slid out of my gums...before I’d caught myself in horror. I’d fled the barn before I could lose control and slaughter two innocent kids in their sleep.

The monster sneered at the memory. That seemed like a long, long time ago. A lifetime ago. Now, with the Hunger clawing at my gut and burning the edges of my mind, I thought longingly of the sleeping humans, so vulnerable beside me, imagined myself leaning down the rest of the way and finishing what I’d started.

* * *

The next night was more of the same. More empty plains and wilderness. More trackless snow, crunching beneath our boots, and an endless road snaking its way northeast. More of the Hunger gnawing my insides, making me irritable and savage. I concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other, trying to ignore the ache that refused to go away. I could feel the monster within, perilously close to the surface, a cold, dark thing that growled and stirred restlessly, always searching. It could hear the shuffle of tiny feet in the darkness, raccoons or possums or other nocturnal creatures, moving through the brush. It could sense the swoop of bats overhead and smell the deep, slow breaths of deer, huddled together in the undergrowth. It wanted to attack, to pounce on some living creature and rip it open, spilling hot blood into the snow and down our throats. But it knew, as I did, that wasting energy slaughtering animals was useless. That would not satisfy the Hunger. Only one type of prey would ease the hollow emptiness inside, and that prey was nowhere to be found.

So, we walked, Kanin leading, Jackal and I trailing behind. Three vampires who didn’t need to rest, who never got cold or tired or winded, traveling through a wasted world that would kill most humans. That, in all honesty, already had.

And Sarren was well on his way to finishing the job.

Kanin turned suddenly in the middle of the road, his expression alert as he gazed back at us. I paused, too, surprised and a little wary. We hadn’t spoken much after leaving New Covington. The Master vampire had walked steadily onward, silent and cold, without looking back at his two offspring. That was fine with me. I didn’t have much to say to him, either. There was a wall between us now. I could sense his disappointment, the look in his eyes whenever Jackal made some snide, evil comment about humans and bloodbags...and I said nothing. Not even Kanin’s silent disapproval would change the fact that I was a monster.

“Someone is coming,” Kanin said, looking at the road behind us. I turned as well, straining my senses, but there was no need. The growl of an engine cut through the darkness, getting steadily closer.

The Hunger surged to life, and, close to the surface, the monster shifted eagerly. Vehicles meant humans, which meant food. I imagined sinking my teeth into their necks, imagined the hot blood rushing into my mouth, and felt my fangs lengthen, an eager growl escaping my throat.

“Get back,” Kanin said, walking past me. I curled my lips at him, defiant, but his back was to me now, and he didn’t notice. “Get off the road, both of you,” he went on, as the engine noise grew louder and headlights glimmered through the trees. “Stopping for three strangers on a lonely road at night is a risk many would avoid. Better that they see a lone, unarmed traveler than a group.” His voice grew harder. “Get off the road, Allison.”

Jackal had already moved back, melting into the darkness. Kanin wasn’t even looking at me, his gaze on the approaching headlights. With a growl, I stepped off the pavement and slipped behind a large twisted tree at the side of the road. And I waited, the Hunger clawing at my insides and the demon watching with barely restrained violence.

The lights grew brighter, and around a bend came a once-white van, now more rust than metal. Kanin stepped forward, raising his arms in a flagging motion as the vehicle sped forward, bathing him in the headlights.

It didn’t slow. It angled toward Kanin, sped up, and a rough-looking human poked his head out the passenger window. He grinned and raised a dull black pistol, aiming it at the stranger in the road.

Kanin jumped back as several shots rang out, flaring white in the darkness. The van squealed past with hoots and harsh laughter, and the monster surged up with a roar.

I leaped out as the van came toward me, drawing my katana as I did. As it careened by, I lashed out with a snarl, aiming for the front tire, cutting through rubber and metal with a metallic scream and a flare of sparks. The van swerved wildly, screeched over the pavement, and crashed headlong into a tree.

I leaped after it, bright Hunger burning through my veins, the monster shrieking viciously in my mind. The driver and passenger lay against the shattered windshield, bloody and still, but the side door rasped open, and two men emerged, both clutching guns, and large ones at that. The first raised his weapon drunkenly as I raced up. My sword flashed, and he screamed as the gun hit the pavement along with both his arms. The second barked a terrified curse and tried to run. He got as far as the edge of the trees before I pounced on him from behind and drove my fangs into his neck.

Blood filled my mouth, hot and addictive. I growled in pleasure and sank into the feeling, the human going lax in my grip. Why had I ever shied away from this? I couldn’t remember now.

“Well, that’s just fabulous. Four humans to start with. Now two are dead and one’s bleeding out like a ruptured fuel hose.” The cold, exasperated voice cut through the ecstasy. I raised my head, warm blood running down my chin, to see Kanin and Jackal standing at the mangled remains of the van. Kanin was observing the armless, nearly delirious human writhe over the ground, moaning and sobbing, but Jackal was staring at me, a half amused, half disgusted look on his face.

“Oh, don’t worry about me,” he remarked. “You go ahead and enjoy that bloodbag. I’m not that Hungry anyway.”

I swallowed, retracting my fangs, feeling faintly guilty. Kanin and Jackal were Hungry, too, and I was hoarding the only healthy source of food. Vampires didn’t feed from the dead, even the newly dead. Drinking from a corpse had the same result as drinking from an animal; it did nothing for the Hunger. Not to mention, most vampires found it repulsive. Our prey had to be human, and it had to be alive; that was one of the ancient, unfathomable rules we lived by. One of the rules you just didn’t question.

Turning, I dragged my prey a few steps into the road, back to where Jackal watched with amused exasperation. “Here,” I said, and shoved the human at him. It collapsed bonelessly to the pavement. “That one is still breathing, mostly. I’m done with it.”

Jackal curled a lip. “I don’t want your leftovers, sister,” he said contemptuously. I smiled back at him.

“Good. I can finish it, then?”

He gave me a murderous look, stalked across the pavement, and hauled the human upright. The man’s head fell back limply, his neck a mess of blood, and Jackal plunged his fangs into the other side of his throat.

I glanced toward the van to see Kanin gently lower the armless human to the ground, where he slumped, lifeless, to the pavement. The stumps of his forearms no longer oozed, and his skin was white. I wondered how much blood Kanin had been able to get out of him before he died. Not much, I guessed, but even a little was better than nothing. I should have just cut off the one arm. Or a foot, perhaps. Then he wouldn’t have been able to run.

Somewhere deep inside, a part of me recoiled, horrified with myself and my current thoughts. The old part, the Allison that was still a little human, screamed that this was wrong, that I didn’t have to be like this. But her voice was tiny, indistinct. I shivered, and the monster buried the voice under cold indifference. It was too late, I thought, feeling blessed numbness spread through my core again. I knew what I was. Sympathy, mercy, regret—those had no place in the life of a vampire. The old Allison was stubborn; it would take a while for her to die for good, but I heard her voice less and less now. Eventually, it would disappear altogether.

Vampire indifference firmly in place, I glanced at my sire. Kanin had stepped away from the dead human and was now peering into the darkened interior of the van. A brief, pained look crossed his face before it smoothed out again. Curious, I walked up beside him and gazed into the vehicle.

There was another body in the van. A young woman, only a year or two older than me, dressed in a filthy white shift. Her hands were tied in front of her, and she lay crumpled against the wall of the van, her neck at an unnatural angle. Curly yellow hair spread over her face, and glassy blue eyes stared at nothing out the open door.

Oh, no. She was a captive, an innocent. I caused this. For a moment, I felt sick. The dead girl’s eyes seemed to bore into me, accusing. I’d killed her. Maybe I hadn’t torn out her throat or cut off her head, but she was dead all the same, because of me.

I could feel Kanin’s dark gaze on my back, and I heard Jackal’s footsteps crunch over the thin layer of snow behind us as he came to peer over my shoulder. “Huh,” he remarked, as if he was staring at a dead bird on the sidewalk. “Well, now we know why the bastards were in such a hurry. Shame she didn’t make it—I’m still a bit peckish.” He sniffed, and I felt his gaze shift to me, hard and reproachful. “That human you so generously left me barely took the edge off.”

“I didn’t know she was there,” I muttered, not turning around. Not knowing if I’d said it to Kanin, Jackal, or myself. “I didn’t know....”

But that wasn’t much of an excuse. I knew it, and Kanin knew it. He said nothing, just turned and walked away, but as always, his silence spoke volumes.

“Oh, well,” Jackal shrugged. “Nothing for it now. It just reminds you how very fragile these meatsacks are. Can’t even look at them funny without breaking their bloody necks.” He glanced down at me. “Aw, don’t beat yourself up too hard, sister,” he said, grinning. “It’s not like the human had much to live for, not where she was headed. You did the bloodbag a favor, trust me.”

I stared at the girl again and felt the monster creep forward, cold and practical, burying the guilt. What does it matter? it whispered. So, you killed another human. It wasn’t the first, and it won’t be the last. They’re prey, and you are a vampire. Killing is what we do.

“Yeah.” I sighed and turned away from the van, away from the human and her flat, accusing eyes. Jackal was right; there was nothing I could do now. The girl meant nothing, one more death to be added to the endless, eternal list. Kanin was already walking down the road again, and we hurried to catch up. Leaving the vehicle, its slaughtered passengers, and another small piece of my humanity behind.

Chapter 2

Three nights later, there was a body in the road.

Or, rather, scattered all over the road. Not much was left except the stripped, broken bones of some unfortunate creature, lying in a dark smear in the snow. From the looks of it, the body had literally been torn to pieces and left to rot in the center of the pavement. We had stumbled upon yet another dead town, the road cutting through rows of rotting buildings, overgrown and falling apart, roofs caved in and windows smashed. An ancient playground stood on the corner, swings piled high with snow, a rusty slide lying twisted and bent on the ground. Empty, like everything else around us.

“Sarren?” I asked, regarding the broken skeleton with a mix of annoyance and apathy. It wasn’t human, so there was nothing wasted, nothing to regret. But the Hunger within still raged at the amount of blood spilled, demanding to be fed. Even the aftereffects of violence sent it into a frenzy now. I wished it would shut up.

Kanin shook his head.

“No,” he murmured. “Sarren wouldn’t bother with an animal. Not if he wanted to send a message. Besides, it’s too fresh. This was done tonight.”

“Rabids,” I guessed instead, and he nodded grimly. “Can we avoid them?”

“We can try,” he said, earning a snort from Jackal. “But we cannot deviate from this path. We must reach Eden soon, if not to beat Sarren there, then to stop him from using that virus.” His gaze lifted to the horizon. “I fear we may already be too late.”

I felt a tiny prick of worry. I knew people in Eden. People I’d risked everything for, just to see them to their vampire-free sanctuary. Caleb, Bethany, Silas and Theresa. What if Sarren got there before me and unleashed his terrible virus? What if, when I finally got to Eden, everyone I’d known was dead? Or worse, infected, bleeding, and tearing themselves apart? I thought of cheerful Caleb, shy little Bethany, and kind, patient Theresa. They didn’t suspect anything. They thought they were safe in Eden, and now, a madman and a horrifying virus were heading right for them.

I shivered, and the darkness within rose up to shield me. If Sarren reached Eden before us, then those humans were dead. I couldn’t do anything for them, and it wasn’t my concern to protect them anymore. They didn’t matter. I just wanted to find my enemy and bury him in pieces.

I felt the weight of Kanin’s gaze on me, grim and searching. As if he knew what I was thinking, because he always knew. I met that stare, unflinching, the monster staring back without remorse. Not long ago, that look would’ve made me cringe, bristle, try harder. Now, I didn’t have the will to care what even Kanin thought of me.

He didn’t say anything, however. Just turned away, his step heavy, toward the northeast. And we continued on.

It began snowing again, large flakes drifting from a black sky, settling on my head and shoulders. The road continued past crumbling buildings, gutted-out stores and gas stations, and rusty hulks of old cars. Skeletal trees pushed their way through pavement and rooftops, their limbs frozen and bare, their roots splitting stone, wood and concrete as nature slowly engulfed the town. Maybe in another sixty years, it would vanish entirely. Maybe in another sixty years, no trace of mankind would be left anywhere.

We wove through a maze of ancient, snow-covered vehicles, several of them smashed against each other in the intersection, and came to a crossroads.

Kanin stopped in the middle of the road and abruptly drew his dagger. The thin, deadly blade flashed in the darkness as it appeared in his hand, and the vampire went perfectly still. Jackal and I froze as our sire stood there, unmoving.

“They’re coming,” he said softly.

We didn’t hesitate, pulling our weapons and moving up beside him. The former raider king reached into his duster and withdrew a steel fire ax, the head stained dark with old blood, and gave it an easy twirl. Unsheathing my katana, I raised the curved, razor-sharp blade in front of me and listened.

Feet. Feet shuffling through the snow, and lots of them. From all sides of the intersection. I caught flashes of movement through the sea of cars, glimpses of pale, emaciated forms darting between vehicles. Wails and raspy hisses rose into the air, the screech of claws on metal echoed through the night, and the dead, awful scent came to me over the breeze.

“About time,” Jackal growled as he swung his ax up, fangs flashing in a defiant grin. His voice echoed weirdly in the night, and the wailing around us grew louder. “Come on, you little bastards. I’m so ready to tear something’s head off.”

As if in answer, a creature leaped to the roof of the car beside him. It was vaguely human-shaped, with matted hair and white skin stretched over an emaciated body, and it reeked of death. Mad white eyes, with no irises or pupils, blazed down at us as the rabid bared jagged fangs and flung itself at us with a howl.

It met the edge of Jackal’s ax as the vampire whirled and smashed the rabid headfirst into a car door, shattering glass and making a hollow boom against the metal. Dark blood spattered across the side of the vehicle, and the rabid dropped to the snow with its skull caved in. Jackal raised his head and roared, vicious and defiant, as a swarm of the pale, shrieking things scrambled over car roofs and hoods and descended on us. My own monster within howled an eager challenge in return, and I let it go.

A rabid leaped at me, claws slashing. As it fell, I whipped up my katana and sliced clean through the spindly middle, cutting it in two with a spray of black blood. Another lunged over the hood of a van, and I whirled toward it, bringing my sword down to cut the head from its body. A savage glee filled me as the skull bounced and rolled at my feet, and I leaped onto the roof of the van with a snarl, welcoming the swarm as they wailed and sprang at me. Rabids lunged over cars and clawed at my feet, trying to scramble up the vehicle or pull me into the mob. I spun and danced over the metal, leaping from roof to roof and slicing the monsters that followed, cutting off limbs that reached for me.

Below, Jackal and Kanin fought side by side, a deadly pairing despite their differences. Jackal’s fire ax spun through the air and connected with bone-crushing force, cracking skulls, smashing opponents into cars and pavement. Kanin’s thin, bright dagger was a blur as he moved gracefully around the flailing monsters, slitting throats and severing heads with surgical precision. They didn’t need my help; both were doing just fine.

In the split second that my attention strayed to Kanin and Jackal, a rabid landed on the car roof beside me and lashed out with its claws. I jerked back, sweeping my blade up to cut it open, but a stinging pain erupted over my face as its talons scored my cheek.

The world went red. Screaming, I leaped down into the middle of the swarm and began laying waste with my katana. Limbs and heads parted for me as I carved my way through the horde. My demon reveled in the chaos and destruction, howling in delight with every body that fell, painting the snow and the cars around me with dark blood.

A shadow fell over me, and the ground shook with a roar. I spun to see a huge rabid, well over six feet, fill my vision one second before a large, claw-tipped hand struck the side of my head with an explosion of pain. I was knocked into a car, glass shattering around me as the giant roared, towering over the others, and came at me again.

I dove aside as the rabid struck the car, talons screeching off the metal and leaving long furrows behind. Despite its monstrous size, it was more skeleton than flesh. Below the ribs jutting sharply against pale skin, its stomach was a yawning, concave valley that seemed to press into its spine. But its shoulders were massive, and heavy, deformed arms hung past its knees, the hands tipped with sicklelike claws. It screamed at me and pounced, and I rolled away, cutting at its middle as I came to my feet. The katana struck a few ribs, severing them, and the creature whirled with a howl.

Blood ran into my eyes, making it hard to see. I blinked and shook my head, trying to focus. The rabid roared and lashed out with those long arms, and I met the blow with my sword, hammering it into the thing’s forearm. The blade struck the thick limb and cut deep, but the force still knocked me aside, sending me sprawling to the snow. It was strong, and I was going to have to hit something vital if I wanted to kill it for good.

Still clutching my weapon, I pushed myself to my hands and knees. But before I could stand, something grabbed the back of my neck, lifted me up a few feet, and then slammed me to the pavement with crushing force. I felt my nose break and my jawbone snap, and pain exploded behind my eyes. The thing bashed me to the ground three more times, bones popping and crunching with every blow, before it turned and flung me into the hood of a car. More glass shattered, biting into my flesh, and fresh stabs of pain joined the agony already pounding through my head. The rabid bellowed in triumph, lumbering forward, and my delirium shifted to a sudden, all-consuming rage.

Ignoring the pain, I snatched my katana from where it lay on the hood and roared a challenge to the giant bearing down on me. As it loomed overhead, smashing down with a huge fist, I dodged aside, and its arm crunched into metal, leaving a deep hole behind. Snarling, I leaped toward my enemy, launched myself off its elbow, and brought my sword down as hard as I could. The blade sliced through the rabid’s collarbone and carved through its pale body, splitting it open from neck to stomach.

The huge creature staggered, the two halves peeling off in different directions, before it slid slowly to the pavement, twitched once, and was still. Fangs bared, I gazed around for my next attacker, raising my sword, but nothing else moved in the night. The horde was gone, scattered in pieces behind and around me, filling the air with the foul stench of their blood. I was alone.

And I hurt. I hurt everywhere, inside and out. I needed food, blood. I needed to hunt, but there was no prey here. The pain within was fading; I knew I was healing, but I was Hungry now. So very Hungry...

“Well, little sister, I’m not too proud to say it. That was almost impressive.”

A voice, snide and challenging, echoed behind me. The Hunger roared, and I spun, baring my fangs in a snarl. Another vampire stood several paces away, smelling of blood and power, yellow eyes widening in shock. Older than me, possibly stronger than me, but that had never given me pause before. My lips curled, and I stepped toward him, raising my sword.

“Sister.” The vampire’s voice was a warning, and he raised his hands, one of which held a bloody fire ax. “Don’t be stupid. Get a hold of yourself. Don’t make me smear your brains all over the pavement.”

His voice rang oddly in my head, almost familiar. Did I know him? I hesitated, confused, but the fiery ache inside rose up, consuming me. I faced the vampire across from me and hissed, an invitation and a challenge. To my surprise, he didn’t take it.

“Allison.”

Another figure appeared from the maze of cars, striding to face me across the pavement. I cringed back, feeling the immense power radiating from that dark form. The first vampire was of no consequence now. This vampire was far older, and far, far stronger than us both.

“One of the bastards got her good,” I heard the other vampire say, not making any sense. “She’s close to frenzy. Doesn’t recognize either of us.”

The ancient one gazed at me, dark eyes boring into mine, and fear shot through me. I couldn’t fight him; he would tear me apart. I snarled and stepped back, tensing to flee into the shadows, away from that terrifying presence.

“Allison, stop.” The Master’s voice, soft and compelling, lanced into me, holding me still. “Look at me,” he continued, and I had no choice but to obey. “Calm your mind,” he murmured, the words soothing the swirl of chaos and darkness within. “You know me. You know who you are.” His voice flowed through me, becoming more familiar, and the rage began to subside. “Remember,” the Master vampire continued, staring me down. “Remember what we are trying to accomplish.” His voice hardened, becoming unyielding and stern. “You cannot lose yourself to frenzy. I will not allow it. Who am I?”

Memory flooded in at last. Closing my eyes, I slumped to the hood of a car, bowing my head. “Kanin,” I whispered as everything came back. I could feel my fangs pressing against my lip, the blood on my cheek left by rabid claws, the damage done to me inside. The Hunger flared, painful and demanding, but I shoved it into the darkness once more.

His footsteps crunched through the snow until he stood over me, gazing at the top of my head. Shame burned, hot and intense. I’d lost control. The very thing I had promised would never happen again, nearly had. I’d been one step away from Blood Frenzy, from losing control of the Hunger and attacking anything that moved.

No, Allison. Don’t lie to yourself. The truth emerged, making me feel cold. You didn’t lose control to the demon—you welcomed it this time. You gave in, willingly. And Kanin knows it.

“How injured are you?” My sire’s voice was grave, disapproving. I clenched my fists against the metal, pushing back the shame and the last of the Hunger, and rose to face him.

“I’ll live.” I flicked blood from my katana, then sheathed it calmly, keeping my own voice neutral. I refused to feel guilty, refused to let Kanin shame me for what I’d almost done. I’d been badly hurt, and Blood Frenzy was a fact of life for vampires. Sooner or later, we all lost control.

“I was careless,” I muttered, turning away from my sire and seeing Jackal at the edge of the road. It was easier to face Jackal than Kanin; my blood brother stood with his arms crossed, smirking at me, but that was more bearable than the disappointed stare of a Master vampire. “It won’t happen again.”

“It will,” Kanin said and walked past me, heading down the road, but in a different direction than before. I blinked after him.

“Where are you going?”

“We’re breaking trail,” Kanin said matter-of-factly. “Sarren will have to wait. We must go hunting before one of us falls to Blood Frenzy.” That pretty much meant me, I guessed.

“No,” I growled, and stalked after my sire, making him turn. “Kanin, I’m fine. We don’t have to do this.”

“Allison.” Kanin’s eyes narrowed. “Of the three of us, you are closest to the edge. You are making no effort to control yourself, and the monster is very close to the surface. Having you so close to frenzy is dangerous for us all. As it is, I am not certain you can restrain yourself in the presence of humans. I am less certain that you will even try.”

It wasn’t the muted disapproval in his voice that got to me; it was the sorrow, the regret. As if he had failed. As if he had been proud of me, once, but now had second thoughts about bringing me into this world, making me a vampire.

And suddenly, I was angry. I was angry that he could make me feel shame for what I knew was my base nature. I was angry that no matter what I told myself otherwise, how hard I tried to deny it, I wanted to make him proud. I was angry that he expected more from me, that he held me up to some ridiculous standard that I could never reach.

I raised my head and stared him down. “Maybe I won’t,” I said carelessly. “Why should that bother you?”

Anguish flickered across his impassive face before it became calmly aloof once more. “This is not what I taught you, Allison,” he said in a voice meant only for me. “You are stronger than this.”

I shrugged. “Maybe I realized it’s futile, and I don’t want to fight my nature for the rest of eternity. Maybe I realized Jackal was right all along.”

“No.” Kanin’s voice was suddenly hard, terrifying. “You are simply using your demon to hide from what you really feel. Because you are afraid of what that means, that it might be painful. It is far easier to be a monster than to confront the truth.”

I snarled back, baring my fangs. “So what?” I demanded, wanting Kanin to react, to show some kind of emotion, but he didn’t even blink. “I tried, Kanin. I really did. But you know what I discovered?” I curled my lip into a sneer. “We are monsters. No matter how long I fight it, I’m always going to want to hunt and kill and destroy. You taught me that, remember? What happened with—” my mind recoiled from his name “—with that human—that was stupid and wrong and eventually, I would’ve killed him. It was...better...that he died.” I nearly choked on the words, but forced myself to continue, to believe it. “He would’ve only been used against me. Now there’s nothing holding me back.”

“Very well.” Kanin’s voice sounded hollow. “Then the next time you are teetering on the edge, I will not pull you back from it. But be warned, Allison.” His gaze sharpened, cutting into me. “There is a difference between killing while in the throes of Hunger or Blood Frenzy, and giving in to the monster. Once you fall, once you willingly cross that line, it changes you. Forever.”

We glared at each other, two monsters facing off in the tangle of cars and dead rabids, the snow falling softly around us. Kanin’s gaze was icy, but I sensed no anger from him, only weary acceptance, regret and the faintest hint of sorrow. He understood, I realized. He knew, better than most, the lure of the monster, how hard it was to deny our base nature. He was disappointed that he had lost another to the demon, but he understood. I wondered if Kanin, in his long, long existence, had ever fallen to his own darkness, if it was even possible to hold out forever.

I decided that I didn’t care. Let Kanin do and think what he wished; I was still a monster, and that would never change.

“So, anyway.” Jackal’s impatient voice broke through our cold standoff. “Not to interrupt this riveting family drama, but are we going to go hunting anytime soon, or are you two going to glare at each other until the sun comes up?”

* * *

We took the road due north, a direction that pointed away from Eden and Sarren. I didn’t want to postpone the chase, to let our quarry pull farther ahead. But Kanin insisted, and when Kanin insisted, there was nothing else to do. For the rest of the night, we walked, passing forests and plains and the broken remnants of civilization, well hidden in the snow and overgrown forest.

Kanin ignored me, walking silently ahead without looking back. Not that his behavior was any different than on most nights, but now it had this icy, untouchable feel to it. He had washed his hands of me, it seemed. I told myself I didn’t care. Kanin’s values were no longer my own. And he was wrong about me. I wasn’t burying the pain left over from that night in New Covington, or using the monster to shield myself from hurt. I’d simply accepted what I was. What I should have accepted from the beginning.

“So, sister,” Jackal said at length, dropping beside me with his ever-present grin. “Looks like we’re in the same boat now. How does it feel, being one of Kanin’s many disappointments?”

“Shut up, Jackal,” I said, mostly out of habit. Knowing he wouldn’t.

“Oh, it’s not so bad,” Jackal went on, with a nod in Kanin’s direction. “Now you don’t have to hear him go on and on about his stupid bloodbags and ‘controlling the monster.’ It gets so tedious after a few months.” He gave me a wicked smile. “Isn’t it easier down here, sister? Now that you’ve fallen from his ridiculously high expectations? You can finally start living the way a vampire should.”

“Is there a point to any of this?”

“Actually, there is.” His smirk faded, and, for a moment, he looked almost serious. “I want to know what you’re going to do after we catch up to Sarren and beat the ever-loving shit out of him,” he said. “I don’t expect the old man will want either of us around much longer, now that you’ve finally accepted the fact that you actually like the taste of blood, and he tends to frown on such things. Where will you go once this is all over? Assuming you survive, of course. And that our dear sire doesn’t decide to off us both for ‘the greater good.’”

“I don’t know,” I said, ignoring that last part. I didn’t think Kanin would try to kill me, but...he had tried to end Jackal’s life once, long ago. Had I fallen so far that Kanin thought Jackal and I were one and the same? Mistakes that he should never have brought into the world?

“I don’t know where I’ll go after this,” I said again, gazing off into the trees. I couldn’t see myself staying in any one place, not among the humans who hated and feared me, and who I would systematically kill, one by one, to feed myself. Maybe I’d wander from place to place, forever. “I guess it doesn’t matter.”

“Well, I have a suggestion,” Jackal said, the echo of a grin in his voice. “Come back with me to Old Chicago.”

I glanced at him in surprise. He seemed completely serious about the offer. “Why?” I asked warily. “You never struck me as the sharing type.”

“You do have a very selective memory, you know that, right?” Jackal shook his head. “What have I been saying all this time, sister? I’ve made this offer before, several times in fact, but you were too hung up on your precious bloodbags to even consider it. No, I don’t tolerate other bloodsuckers in my city, but you’re not just a random, wandering mongrel vampire. You’re kin.” He smiled widely, showing the tips of his fangs. “And we could do great things, the two of us. Think about it.”

Still wary, I asked, “And what are these ‘great things’ we would end up doing?”

Jackal chuckled. “For starters,” he said, “once we get that cure from Eden, we could start working on that whole vampire-army thing I’ve been talking about. We could have our own vampire city, and the other Princes would bow to us. We could rule everything, you and me. Wha’d’ya say?”

“And you’d just share all that?” I gave him a skeptical look. “What’s to stop you from stabbing me in the back the second we have a disagreement?”

“Sister, I’m hurt.” Jackal gave me a mock wounded look. “You make me sound completely unreasonable. Isn’t it enough that I want to get to know my dear little sister, my only surviving kin besides Kanin?”

“No,” I said, now even more wary. I glared at him, and he gave me a smile that was way too innocent. “Don’t try to feed me any crap about family and blood and kin. You’d throw us to the rabids if you thought you could get something out of it, you said so yourself.” Jackal snorted, but he didn’t deny it, and I narrowed my eyes. “What’s the real reason you want me around?”

“Because, my thick-headed little sister...” Jackal sighed. “I trust you.”

I nearly tripped over my own feet in shock. I stared at him, not really believing what I’d just heard, and he glared back. Like this was vastly annoying, and he needed to get it over with quickly. “Because I know that you, at least, won’t turn on me if something better comes along,” he elaborated. “Because you have that disgusting sense of loyalty that keeps getting you into trouble. And because you aren’t half bad in a fight, either.” His expression moved between arrogance and pity. “I figure I can be the smart, practical, logical one and you can be the pretty, hotheaded, overemotional one, and between us, we’ll be ready for anything.”

“So you want me around because I can fight, and I won’t turn on you.” My voice echoed flatly in my head, tinged with bitterness. “That’s a pretty nice deal on your side. I seem to notice you aren’t making those same promises.”

Jackal shrugged. “Look at it this way, sister,” he said, his golden eyes seeing way too much as they gazed down at me. “At least you won’t be alone.”

His words sent a shiver through my insides. Alone. I would be alone again. After this was all over, even if we beat Sarren, I’d be right back where I started the night Kanin and I had fled New Covington and been separated. I hadn’t been able to return to the city, but I’d had no clue what to do next. With no sire, no friends and no direction, I’d wandered aimlessly through an empty, unforgiving world, not knowing what to do or where I was headed. Not knowing how lonely I was, until I stumbled upon a small group of pilgrims searching for a mythical paradise. They’d given me a goal, a purpose. I’d given everything to get them to Eden...but they were gone now. And once Sarren was killed, it would be like that again. Kanin would leave and I’d be alone once more, wandering the world by myself. Unless, I accepted Jackal’s offer.

“I don’t know,” I said once more, making him sigh again. “I’ll...think about it.”

“Think fast,” Jackal said, but at that moment, Kanin stopped in the middle of the pavement, gazing at something at his feet. Curious, we strode over, hopping the trunk of a tree that had fallen into the road. We’d been following a narrow, broken trail through a stretch of forest that was doing its best to smother everything we passed, and the few houses I’d glimpsed through the thick trunks were barely more than rotted beams wrapped in vegetation. Nothing moved out here; even the wildlife seemed to be asleep or in hibernation, and the snow covered everything in a silent blanket, muffling all sound. I hoped Kanin knew what he was doing, leading us so far afield.

Kanin still hadn’t moved when we came up, but his gaze followed something off into the woods. Gazing down at the road, I saw what had stopped him.

A pair of straight, narrow tracks cut through the snow, went across the road, and continued up the bank into the forest on the other side. I blinked. A vehicle of some sort? It would have to be a really small one, to be able to travel through dense woods. And there were animal prints of some kind between the lines. At least, they certainly weren’t human.

“A horse and cart went through here,” Kanin explained, perhaps seeing my confused expression. “Not long ago. A few hours, perhaps.” He gazed into the trees, and his voice was suddenly grave. “Whoever left these tracks isn’t far.”

“About time,” Jackal growled at my side, and an evil grin crossed his face as his gaze followed Kanin’s into the forest. His eyes glowed dangerously, and his fangs glinted as he smiled. “Let’s just hope there’s more than one. I don’t particularly feel like sharing.”

There are humans nearby. The Hunger surged up with the realization, twisting and painful. I felt my own fangs slide out, poking my bottom lip, and suddenly resented the two vampires nearby—competition for my food.

“Come, then,” Kanin said, sounding weary. He stepped off the road, heading into the forest without looking back. “Let’s get this over with.”

Chapter 3

The trail didn’t take us far.

We’d followed the tracks about two hundred yards into the forest when the trees thinned and a small field stretched out before us, penned in with crudely cut logs. The ground past the barrier had been trampled to mud, and when I took a breath, I caught the familiar scent of manure and livestock hanging in the frozen air. The pasture, of course, was empty. No one left domestic animals outside at night, for the same reason no human ever ventured out at night: they’d be ripped to shreds by rabids in short order.

Eagerly, I stared past the field, searching for any signs of where these humans might live. When I had traveled with Jebbadiah’s band, we’d stumbled across the Archer farm one night, an isolated homestead surrounded by a protective fence that kept rabids at bay. The barn and enormous farmhouse both sat within the wall, and the Archer clan had been able to move freely about even at night, so long as they stayed within its boundaries.

But, to my shock, there was no wall out here, not even a small one. Sitting at the edge of the field, smoke curling lazily from a brick chimney, was a house. It was dark, two stories high, and completely unprotected, sitting brazenly in the open with no fires, gates, or anything to shield it from the walking horrors outside.

“Well, that’s interesting,” Jackal murmured, leaning against the fence with his elbows on the railing. “No wall. And there are definitely bloodbags inside, unless the rabids have suddenly discovered they’re not afraid of fire.” He frowned, regarding the house like it was some new curiosity he’d never seen before. “So, I’m guessing these meatsacks are either the luckiest sons of bitches to ever walk the earth, or that house is going to have a few nasty surprises waiting for us.” With a snort, he pushed himself off the railing, shaking his head. “Course, it’s not going to matter either way. I’m still going to eat them. How much is going to depend on how seriously they piss me off by the time I get in there.”

I growled at him, the monster rearing up in protest. “You’d better not kill them all,” I said coldly, making him raise an eyebrow. “At least not until I’m done. Find your own human to feed on. I’m not sharing this time.”

“Oh, sister,” Jackal mocked, pretending to wipe away a tear. “Listen to you, sounding just like a real vampire. I’m so proud.”

“We are not,” Kanin said in a calm, terrifying voice, “going to kill anyone. Executing men who are shooting at us is one thing. There is no need to massacre a sleeping household. When we part ways, you both can do as you like. Until then, as I am the oldest and technically the head of this coven, we will do things my way. If you cannot abide this, you are always free to go. I am not stopping you.”

He’d once said those words to Jackal, who’d taken him up on that offer and betrayed us to Sarren, only to switch sides once more at the last minute. But now, Kanin’s dark gaze fixed solely on me, hard and cold. It sent a sudden, sharp pang through my stomach. My sire didn’t trust me; he really had lumped me into the same boat as Jackal, the vampire whom I’d once despised for treating humans as food. Jackal’s own words came back to taunt me. “That’s what I like about you, sister. You and me, we’re exactly the same.”

He was right. My ruthless, murdering blood brother had been right all along.

I met Kanin’s piercing gaze and shrugged. “Fine,” I said, matching my coldness to his. “You’ve made your point. I’ll try not to kill any of the bloodbags.”

A flicker of what might’ve been pain crossed Kanin’s impassive face on that last sentence. That last word, one I’d never used before. Bloodbags.

Jackal snickered then, shooting Kanin a dangerous leer. “Aw, what’s the matter, old man?” he asked. “Didn’t expect your little spawn to fall so far from grace? Did you really expect her to retain your ridiculous, unfeasible morals?” He gave me a sideways glance. “Open your eyes, Kanin. Your favorite hellspawn is a demon, just like the rest of us. Only now, she’s finally realized it.”

Kanin stared at us, his features coolly remote once more, then turned away. “We do this quickly and quietly,” he said, following the cart tracks around the field toward the house up top. “Go in, take what you need, and leave. There might be guards nearby, so let’s be careful.”

As we approached the monstrous house sitting at the edge of the pasture, the reason it wasn’t surrounded by a wall became quite clear. It didn’t need to be.

Up close, the building was a fortress. The walls were brick, reinforced in places with steel bars and plates. A wide trench surrounded the whole house, with sharpened iron poles bristling from the bottom and stabbing up on the other side. Windows had metal bars running across them, and the heavy double doors, armored and plated with steel, seemed able to withstand the most vicious rabid attack.

But it didn’t account for vampires.

“Creative bastards, aren’t they?” Jackal mused as we silently circled the house, looking for points of entry, potential weak spots we could exploit. There weren’t many; every window was barred, the back door was armored, and spikes bristled around the perimeter and even from the roof. “If I wasn’t planning to eat the little bloodbags, I might be reluctantly impressed. As it is, this is just obnoxious. Hey, Kanin,” he called in a louder whisper, gazing at the other vampire a few paces away, “you still sold on this ‘enter quietly and leave’ bullshit? Right now I’m thinking a good ‘kick in the door’ approach would work better.”

Kanin stopped at the edge of the pit and calmly assessed his surroundings. My demon was intrigued by Jackal’s suggested approach, anything to get us into the house sooner, but the Master vampire suddenly leaped the twenty-foot trench like it was a crack on the sidewalk, landing gracefully on the other side without impaling himself on the spikes. Grasping the thick iron bars in front of the window, he pulled them apart with as much effort as bending a wire and slid through the opening. Jackal snorted.

“Or you could do that, I suppose.”

We followed Kanin into the house, jumping over the trench, somehow avoiding the bristling spikes waiting on the other side, and sliding through the window. The interior was sparse and clean, with wooden floors and old, simple furniture, a bed of hot embers glowing in the hearth. We had come into what looked like a living room, with a kitchen off to the side, a dark hallway next to that, and a staircase to the second floor in the center of the room. I took a deep breath and caught the mingling scents of smoke and cut wood, livestock and dirt, and the distinct smell of warm-blooded creatures. The Hunger awoke with a vengeance, and I stifled an eager growl, feeling my fangs burst through my gums.

Kanin, a dark figure against the wall, gestured at us to be silent, his eyes hard. I bit my lip, trying to calm down, though the Hunger refused to be ignored, now that prey was so close. The Master vampire pointed two fingers down the hallway, then again up the stairs. Four humans: two on the first floor and another two upstairs. All asleep. All thinking this fortified house would keep them safe.

From rabids, perhaps. But not from me.

Jackal shot me a hard yellow glare that very obviously meant don’t follow me and stalked away down the hall, making no noise on the wooden floor. I watched him go, relieved that he was staying out of my way, and headed toward the staircase in the center of the room. I felt Kanin watching me as I started up the stairs, but between the Hunger and the anticipation of the end of the hunt, I barely noticed him.

I glided up the staircase, silent as a ghost, and the Hunger grew stronger with every step I took. Until it was a dark, raging fire within, consuming me. My fangs pressed against my bottom lip, eager to rip and tear, to find a human and release the hot flood of power that pulsed through its veins. So many times, I’d pushed down the Hunger, denying my nature and the monster within. The old Allison, desperately fighting to stay human.

No longer. I was a vampire, and I knew the outcome of this hunt. It was so easy to release my human conscience and emotions, to let the monster guide the way. I didn’t know why I’d been so stubborn. Trying to remain human had brought nothing but pain. I would not open myself up to that kind of hurt again.

At the top of the stairs, another narrow hall stretched before me, with two identical wooden doors sitting across from each other. One was halfway open, revealing a bathroom. The other was firmly closed, but even through the wood, I heard the faint sounds of snoring.

I smiled. Walking up to the door, I turned the handle and gave it a soft push. It swung back with a creak, revealing a small bedroom cloaked in shadow. A dresser, a mirror and a closet stood against one wall, two grimy, barred windows on the other. Pale moonlight filtered through ragged curtains and touched the foot of a large bed in the corner. I could see a lump beneath the covers, a head resting on the pillow, dark hair spilling over the edge. The Hunger surged up with a roar.

Stepping into the room, I closed the door behind me with a faint click. It was all I could do to control myself, to not fly across the room with a snarl and sink my fangs into that exposed neck, ripping it open, spilling hot blood onto the white sheets. But Kanin would disapprove of a violent, bloody massacre, and besides, I would not let the Hunger overtake my will this time. I might be a monster, but I was not an animal.

With deliberate steps, I walked across the room until I stood at the edge of the mattress, gazing down. A woman lay there, long hair unbound, breathing peacefully. Her face, though young, was lined and haggard, her forehead creased in a faint, consistent frown. I stood there, my shadow falling over the bed, watching my prey sleep, feeling the Hunger blaze like fire through my veins. I felt it beating the edges of my mind, howling at me to feed, to rip my prey apart and paint the sheets in blood. And still, I waited.

The moment I knew I could turn and walk away, leave the room and its occupant unharmed, I struck.

Gently pushing the long hair aside, being careful not to wake my prey, I parted my lips, dropped down, and sank my fangs into the side of her neck.

She stiffened for the briefest of moments, a tiny gasp escaping, before slumping deeper into the pillow and the near delirium of a vampire’s bite. Hot, glorious blood filled my mouth, and I growled in ecstasy, sinking my fangs in deeper. The Hunger raged as I drank in my prey, wanting more, always more. Never satisfied. I reached the point where I’d be sated for another two weeks, where the Hunger would be demanding and constant, but not overpowering. Where, if I drew back and left now, my prey would be weakened and tired from blood loss, but still alive.

I closed my eyes...and kept going. Continued feeding, never wanting to stop. Warmth and power filled me, intoxicating and overwhelming, and I didn’t resist. The demon and the Hunger approved, howling in glee, stifling any feelings of guilt or remorse I might’ve felt. Kanin would be displeased that I’d killed this mortal, drained it to an empty husk, but I’d already disappointed him beyond repair. The one person I’d wanted to keep my humanity for was gone. I might as well succumb to my base instincts once and for all and accept that, no matter what I did, I would always be a monster.

The human grew pale beneath me, the skin taking on a deathly pallor. She made a tiny, breathy sound, a name breathed through pallid lips, as if she was lost in a nightmare. And, for just a moment, a tiny flicker of shame, of uncertainty, cut through the icy darkness within. I ignored it, sank my fangs in deeper, and continued to feed. This would be over soon. There’d be no more nightmares after this.

“Mommy?”

The muffled voice that came through the doorway was barely more than a whisper, but it gave me just enough of a warning. Retracting my fangs, I swiftly sealed the puncture wounds by pressing my tongue to my victim’s throat, just as the handle behind me clicked and turned. As the door began to creak open, I rose, swept across the room with vampire speed and grace, and ducked into the closet.

Later, as I reflected on my actions, I didn’t know why I’d chosen to run, to hide. Maybe it was guilt after all, not wanting anyone to see me prey on a human. The shame of what I had to do to live. Or maybe it was just habit now. But I pulled the door shut behind me, leaving only a narrow strip to see through, and hovered there in the darkness. A literal monster in the closet, watching and waiting.

Through the crack in the closet door, I saw a small figure in a ragged blue nightgown walk silently across the room to stand beside the bed. She was young, probably no more than eight, with stringy dark hair hanging down her shoulders and thin, birdlike arms. Those arms were wrapped around some kind of stuffed creature, holding it tightly to her chest, as she padded up to the mattress, her eyes large and frightened. Strangely, though I’d never seen this girl before, I felt a prick of recognition, making me frown. This scene was...familiar, somehow.

“Mommy?” The little girl hovered at the edge of the covers, clutching her stuffed thing. “I had a nightmare. Wake up. Mommy?”

Her whispers grew louder and more frightened as the figure in the bed refused to stir. Finally, the little girl reached out and shook the woman’s arm.

“Mommy!”

“Mmm?” The figure under the covers finally moved, dark head raising off the pillow to gaze at the child. She was very pale, her skin having taken on an unhealthy grayness. But, seeing the girl, she rose higher from the mattress, reaching out to stroke the child’s hair. “Abigail? What’s wrong, baby?”

There was a sudden tightness in my chest. Something squeezing at my heart, making my throat ache with longing. Memories of another time, another life, much like this one. A tiny bedroom, ratty curtains fluttering in the icy breeze, a woman and a child in a single bed...

Terrified, I clamped down on those emotions, shoving them back, trying to bury them in the darkness once more. I didn’t want to remember. I knew, with a grim certainty, that if I did remember, something inside me would unravel, and I didn’t want to face the fallout of whatever came to light.

The little girl sniffled. “I had a nightmare,” she murmured. “I dreamed there were rabids climbing in the window. I was scared and came to find you, but you didn’t wake up.”

“Come here, sweetheart,” the woman said, struggling to sit up. Her arms trembled as she pushed herself into a sitting position, leaning back against the headboard. But she didn’t seem to notice or care about her sudden weakness as she patted the sheets beside her. “Come up with me. Do you want me to tell you a story?”

My stomach churned, that cold fist crushing my dead heart.

Do you want me to read you a story, Allison?

I took one staggering step back from the door. The woman and child vanished from sight, but that didn’t stop the realization. I recognized them now. I knew why this felt so familiar.

It was me. This scene, the child in the room with the bed and ratty curtains...was me. Not the same place, obviously, and not the same circumstances, but I could still see myself in the girl: a skinny waif of only ten, climbing into bed with my mother. Listening to her soft voice as she read me a story I’d heard dozens of times before.

The ache of longing spread, growing more painful, and I bit my lip to keep the sudden jealousy in check. Clenching a fist, I listened as the girl clambered onto the bed beside her mom and curled up with her beneath the covers. I remembered doing that, once. Feeling peaceful and content and not scared anymore, because my mom was right there, holding me. Outside our hovel, vampires stalked the night, and humans preyed on each other when they could, but when I was with her, I knew I was safe.

Even though it was all a lie. When you lived in a vampire city, you were never safe. Even though my mother had followed the rules and was Registered, even though she had faithfully given blood every time it was required, they still came for her when she was too weak to get out of bed. They’d taken her blood, not caring that she was sick, not caring that a terrified ten-year-old watched from the corner, silently judging. Hating. Not caring that, after they left, the girl would see her mother waste away to nothing, that she would be out on the streets alone. And that hatred, planted inside her when the vampires’ Pets forced their way into her home, would grow into a searing, burning determination that would keep her alive when most others would’ve died. She would never submit to the vampires. She would never give them her blood. And she would hate them for the rest of her life. Because she had watched the most important thing in her life wither away and die...to feed them.

Just like this girl.

Oh, God. I staggered farther away from the door, brushing aside the handful of coats and dresses in the closet with me, and collapsed against the wall. Shock and horror rose up, breaking through the numbing cold, shattering the emptiness at last. I’m...I’m doing the exact same thing. That kid in there could be me. And I...

I had become that monster. The thing that I hated most in the world. The demon that preyed on humans and cared nothing for what it left behind—a broken family, a distraught parent...or a little girl who had only grief and hate to sustain her.

Sickened, I slid down the wall until I was sitting in the corner, while the murmuring voices of the woman and girl came to me through the closet door. What’s happened to me? I thought in numb despair. What the hell am I doing?

The monster snarled, angry and dismayed, reminding me that I was a vampire. It was my nature to hunt and kill and destroy. Human emotions meant nothing to me. Mortals were food, prey, nothing else. I felt its cold apathy to the scene outside, the welcome, icy indifference, and for just a moment, I teetered on the brink of falling into it again. Letting the monster shield me from pain, grief and the horrible, crushing guilt just beginning to emerge from the darkness. It was safer in the dark, the demon whispered, soothing and enticing. I wouldn’t feel anything, remember anything. I wouldn’t have to face the reason I’d sacrificed my humanity. Why I had let the monster win.

Why...

My hand rose to my neck, finding the thin silver chain that rested there, tracing the image of the tiny metal cross beneath my shirt. And just like that, all memories of him came rushing back.

Oh, Zeke.

My eyes stung, turning my vision red and blurry. The knot in my chest unraveled, the barrier holding those emotions back fraying to shadows, releasing everything in a flood. And in that tiny closet, with the humans I’d nearly slaughtered murmuring just outside the door, I put my head to my knees and shook with silent sobs. For the horror of what I was, what I had almost let myself become. For the shame of my lost humanity, even if it was for just a moment.

And for Zeke. I cried for the boy I had lost, the human who’d believed I was more than a monster, even if I couldn’t believe it myself. I’d never said a proper goodbye to him, had never let myself grieve his death before tonight. Vengeance had been the only thing on my mind, my utter hate for Sarren driving me forward. It hurt now, to realize Ezekiel Crosse was truly gone, and I would never see him again. In this world, or the next. Because Zeke’s soul had surely gone to its final resting place, far from the misery of this godforsaken hell, a place where demons and monsters and soulless creatures of the night could never follow. He was safe now, truly safe. He was with his father and all the people he had lost on the way to Eden, and they would never have to fear anything, ever again.

Gradually, the bloody tears slowed and finally stopped, leaving me empty and drained in that tiny corner. My face felt sticky, my throat ached, and my chest felt painfully tight. But, for the first time since I’d left New Covington, I could face the horror of what had happened in that lab without falling apart. I could finally remember. Sarren torturing Zeke for information about Eden and the cure, Zeke’s anguished screams and cries, that shining, terrible moment when he’d whispered...that he loved me. Right before Sarren had killed him.

I wondered if he could see me now, if he was horrified and disappointed at the thing I’d become. Or had he forgotten me? Maybe he didn’t even remember his mortal life. Maybe all the pain, grief and darkness he’d endured was nothing but a fading dream where he was now. I hoped so. I wanted him to forget. It was better that way, that he forget this world with its demons and monsters and darkness that smothered any tiny bit of hope or warmth. I would still have to endure, for eternity.

Bitterness joined the swirl of sorrow and regret. Kanin and Jackal had been right; I’d been hiding from this, letting the monster shield me from the pain, because I didn’t want to face the truth. Zeke was dead. I had to let him go.

Wiping my eyes, I rose to my feet, grief, shame and a hundred other emotions weighing me down. I welcomed them this time. Even if it was painful. Even if remembering made me feel like I’d never smile again. It meant that some tiny part of me was still human. I’d been so close to the edge tonight, on that brink of no return, as Kanin had warned. What would’ve happened if the monster had truly won?

Pulling out the chain, I closed my fingers around Zeke’s cross, closing my eyes. The edges pressed into my palm as I remembered, forcing myself to recall what he’d told me once. “You’re not evil,” he had whispered, those bright, solemn blue eyes staring into me, peeling away every defense. “No one who fights so hard to do the right thing is evil.”

I had to believe that. I had to believe that something in me was still human, that I wasn’t a complete monster.

Keep me human, Zeke, I thought, feeling a sharp flare of determination through the suffocating regret and guilt. My eyes burned once more, but I bit my lip and forced the tears back. I swear, I’ll keep fighting. I won’t forget again.

When I peeked through the closet door, the woman and little girl had fallen asleep, the mother curled protectively around her child. Easing into the room, I watched them silently, feeling that sharp ache of longing as I remembered my mother doing the same. The little girl sniffed and burrowed closer, her young face blissfully calm, free of worry or fear, and I smiled sadly.

Then I turned and glided silently from the room, into the hall, and down the steps to the first floor.

That dark figure waited for me in front of the window, silhouetted against the glass. As usual, Kanin gave no hints as to what he was feeling, what he thought I’d been doing, whether he was annoyed that I’d taken so long. His eyes were blank as I approached, and I couldn’t meet his gaze, staring at the floor when we stood but a few feet apart.

“Is it done?” His voice was barely a murmur in the looming silence. I couldn’t be sure, but I thought I heard the barest hint of hope, a last stubborn plea, beneath the quiet surface. Praying that he was wrong. “Did you kill her?”

I shook my head. “No,” I whispered, and finally looked up at him. “I didn’t. I...” A face swam through my head, blue eyes shining as he smiled at me, and I swallowed hard. “I couldn’t.”

Kanin didn’t respond, but I could feel the tension leave him as I said this. But he only nodded. “Then let’s go,” he murmured, turning to the windowsill. “Jackal is waiting for us at the fence line. By now, Sarren has pulled even farther away. We need to find his trail again and head for Eden.”

Numbly, I followed my sire out the window to the edge of the house, where the Master vampire pulled bars into place once more. After leaping the trench, I looked around and noticed that a new, very large pile of wood had been stacked next to the chopping stump, and I smiled to myself. Kanin’s “payment” for tonight, for the harm his actions would bring, in his own words. I thought of the woman I’d fed from, pale and weak because of me, and swallowed hard. Maybe I should do something, too, leave something behind that would help.

“I’ve already taken care of it, Allison,” Kanin said behind me, as if reading my thoughts. “Though firewood and a day’s supply of meat is hardly compensation for the loss of a family member. I am glad it did not come to that.”

“Yeah,” I whispered, feeling a burning shame spread through me again. I felt his eyes on me and wondered, briefly, if I would ever earn Kanin’s trust again, if he would ever see me the way he did before.

“I’m sorry, Kanin,” I said quietly, not looking at him. I didn’t have to say more; he knew what I meant. For everything. For being a monster. For letting myself become a monster. For disappointing you and letting you think you failed. I know you, of all people, never wanted to see me like this. Like Jackal.

Kanin watched me in silence. Just long enough for me to wonder if it was too late, if he had given up both his offspring for lost. Then I felt his presence behind me, his strong hands coming to rest on my shoulders.

“We all have regrets, Allison,” he said, his voice unbearably gentle. “We all have succumbed to the darkness and the monster. There is not one vampire in the world who has not. Even James has points in his past he would change, if he could. The important thing is that you do not let these points define you. James gave up fighting it long ago. For you and I, it is a constant uphill battle not to give in, not to become that demon, and it will be that way for eternity. I will not lie and tell you it gets any easier.

“But,” he continued in that same quiet voice, “you have achieved something few vampires ever could—you have chosen to master your demon, to remember your life before you became immortal. Even though it is hard. Even though the Hunger will always tell you that it is easier to give in, to not remember anything human. It is the reason I told you, from the very beginning, that you would always be a monster.” His voice, already low, went even softer. “I’d hoped that, when I Turned you, you would choose a more noble path than James, that you were tenacious enough to retain some semblance of humanity. I hoped that, if I taught you well enough, your will to live would help you in the fight to contain the beast.” A ghost of a smile entered his voice then, and he dropped his arms. “As it turns out, I greatly underestimated that stubbornness.”

“Yeah, well...” The barest hint of a smile tugged at one corner of my lips, even through the crushing guilt. “I had a pretty good teacher.”

Kanin’s voice returned to normal. “Regardless of the circumstances, you walked to the very edge tonight, looked into the darkness, and turned away. You did not take that final step to become a true monster. That’s not to say that it won’t happen again, sometime in the future. It will. You will always be fighting it, because we are never far from that edge, and it is a very thin line between human and demon. One day you might eventually go over, but until then, be very certain. Is this truly the path you want?”

“Yes,” I said immediately. “It is.”

This time, there was no doubt. No hesitation. Even if it hurt. Even though remembering Zeke ripped my heart into a million tiny pieces, I would not let this thing win. And if that meant fighting the monster until the end of time, that’s what I was going to do.

I felt a brief, light touch on my shoulder before Kanin stepped away. “I expected nothing less,” he said, nearly inaudible. “And, knowing you, perhaps you will be the very first to pull it off.

“Come,” he continued, walking away from the house and its residents, all still alive and unaware of how narrowly they’d avoided death this evening. “It will take us the rest of the night to return to our original trail. And Sarren has extended his lead even farther now. If we are going to have any hope of stopping him, we need to pick up the pace.”

I nodded and hurried after him, and together we walked across the snowy yard, toward the field and the tangled woods beyond. Back toward the road, and the trail that would take us to Eden.

Chapter 4

“I can’t believe you’ve gone all bleeding heart on me again.”

“Shut up, Jackal.”

We were back on the road again, and the forest had finally thinned out. Though it still wrapped its barren claws around everything it could touch, we were seeing more houses and buildings huddled in the snow through the trees, stubbornly clinging to existence. Rusty hulks of cars were sprinkled about the road, though usually on the other side, heading away from us. In my experience, that meant we were nearing a city, but all the nights had sort of blended together, and I had no idea how close to Eden we were. If we were close at all.

“So, all those fun plans we made—finding the cure, undead army, our own vampire city—all that’s gone right out the window, hasn’t it?”

“Yes. I told you before, I don’t want any of those things.”

“Typical.” He snorted. “Silly me, thinking you actually had potential. I thought, Finally, she’s realized she’s a vampire. Now we’re getting somewhere. But now you’re just a big fluffy bunny with sharp teeth.”

“Shut up, Jackal!”

“If you two do not stop,” Kanin said without turning around, “I am going to find another road to Eden without you. James, it has been two days. Let it go.”

“Whatever you say, old man,” Jackal said, holding his hands up. “Though I don’t know why you’re complaining. You got your little spawn back. You must be so proud.”

“What’s the matter, James?” I couldn’t keep the grin from my face as he turned on me. “Don’t tell me you’re jealous.”

He snorted. “Of you? Don’t make me laugh, sister. If I feel anything right now, it’s pity. I...wait a second.” He stopped in the middle of the road, gazing around, making Kanin and me stop, too. His gold eyes swept over an ancient road sign, most of it eaten by rust, the words unreadable. “I recognize this town,” he muttered, as Kanin and I watched cautiously. “I know where we are. These are the outskirts of Old Chicago.”

I stared at him. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah, sister. I think I know my own territory.” Jackal grinned, eyes shining eagerly as he gazed down the road. “No question. Follow this road for another two days, and you’ll hit Chicago, right in the heart of Raidertown.”

“How nice for you,” I said, though the thought of being close to another vampire’s territory, especially this vampire’s territory, made me nervous. “You can finally go home. I’m sure your murderous raider friends will be thrilled to see you again.”

“Oh, I’m sure they couldn’t care less,” Jackal returned, waving an airy hand. At my surprised look, he chuckled. “Please, sister. I might be an egotistical bastard, but I’m not blind. The minions follow me because I promise them power, freedom and all the carnage they can stomach. And because I’ll tear the head off anyone who challenges me. If I never come back, it’s no loss to them. They’ll do what they’ve always done. So, yeah...” He shrugged. “I don’t have any illusions of them showering me with flowers and puppies when I return. However, it’s a good place to grab a snack, a place to sleep that’s not completely disgusting, and maybe a couple bikes for the road. We can shave a lot of time off getting to Eden if we’re not on foot.”

He had a point. Chasing Sarren would be easier if we had a working vehicle. And, I wouldn’t lie, the thought of riding a motorcycle again was tempting. I’d “borrowed” one from the raiders the last time I was in Old Chicago, and had discovered the thrill of flying down an empty highway at top speed. Nothing compared, really.

Kanin narrowed his eyes, looking troubled. “And what if Sarren has gotten there before us?” he asked.

Jackal snorted. “Then he’s either crazier than I thought or completely suicidal. Even Sarren can’t take out a whole city of armed, bloodthirsty minions.” He curled a lip in disgust. “And if he can, then you’ll have to excuse me, because at that point I’m going to say the hell with you both, you can chase after Sarren without me. Though I don’t think that’s going to be a problem. The minions are stupid and savage, but they have one thing that makes them semi-useful—there’s a whole fucking lot of them.” He smirked, crossing his arms. “If Sarren wants to take out my city, he’s welcome to try. The minions aren’t a bunch of cowering little meatsacks, and four hundred raiders with automatic weapons are a match for any bloodsucker, crazy or not. Trespassers always get the same reception—a bunch of lead through the brain.”

“And what about me?” I asked, frowning at him. “I’m pretty sure your army hasn’t forgotten what happened when I was in Old Chicago. The last time I went through, they were trying to kill me.”

“Give them some credit, sister.” Jackal gave me an exasperated eye roll. “You had just burned down my theater and killed a whole lot of them on your way out. Which, frankly, I’m still a little annoyed about. I happened to like that theater.

“But don’t worry,” he went on, confident and unconcerned. “You’re with me, and the only way the minions will shoot at you is if I give the order. They’re a stupid lot, but they know their place on the food chain.”

“Just don’t get any ideas,” I growled at him. “Actually, I don’t know if I like the idea of going into your city of bloodthirsty killers. You’ve stabbed us in the back before—what’s to stop you from doing it again?”

“You’re never going to let me live that down, are you?” Jackal gave me an annoyed look. “Even though it probably saved your soft little hide from being carved into a pentagram by Sarren. Everyone seems to forget that part. Would it kill you to have a little faith in your older brother?”

“It might.”

“Well, you’ll just have to take your chances now, won’t you?”

I scowled and glanced at Kanin, who stood a few feet away, watching his offspring argue with a stoic expression. “Kanin? What do you think?”

The Master vampire sighed. “If we are already headed in that direction,” he said, “I see no reason why we shouldn’t go through Old Chicago. If we can procure a vehicle and reach Eden in a shorter amount of time, it will be worth the detour. But...” And his brow furrowed slightly as he looked at Jackal. “I fear what we might find when we reach the city,” he mused, ignoring the other’s disdainful look. “Let us hope Sarren has left your humans undisturbed.”

We started off again, and now that I knew where we were, where we were headed, certain landmarks began taking on a familiar feel. I thought I recognized a bend in the road, a rusty car half buried in weeds and snow on the side of the pavement. I wondered if I hadn’t passed them on my way to Old Chicago the first time I’d come through. Though it had been only a few months before, it felt like a lifetime ago.

We came to another town, empty and deserted like all the ones before it. But as we walked down cracked, snow-covered roads, passing ancient structures falling apart and smothered by weeds, something felt strange. The sense of déjà vu was growing stronger, to the point where I finally stopped in the middle of the road, gazing around and racking my brain for the reason this seemed so familiar.

“Allison.” Kanin turned, dark eyes searching as I stood there, frowning. “What are you doing?”

I know this place. The feeling was stronger than ever, beckoning me down a certain street, and my curiosity was too insistent to ignore. I had to know. Without answering, I headed off the main road and began walking deeper into town. The other two vampires hesitated a moment, then followed.

“Uh, sister? In case you didn’t know, Chicago is that way.”

Still ignoring them, I continued down the sidewalk, past crumbling buildings and the hulks of dead cars. Everything looked different now, because of the snow, but I felt like I’d been here before.

Then I walked around the collapsed wall of an old gas station...and froze.

I had definitely been here before.

Across the street, a building sat on an empty corner, desolate and still in the falling snow. It had been burned, and charred, blackened beams stood out harshly against the snowy backdrop. The roof was gone, but I remembered the wooden cross that once stood atop it, and the flames that had engulfed it on that last night. The night Jackal’s men had attacked Jebbadiah Crosse and his followers, kidnapping everyone but Zeke to bring them to Old Chicago.

Silently, I crossed the road, stepped over the curb, and walked onto the tiny strip of land beside the church. Crosses and headstones poked out of the snow as I gazed around, my eyes falling on the very place I’d seen Zeke and Jeb Crosse together for the last time.

I heard Jackal and Kanin cross the road as well, but both vampires halted at the edge of the sidewalk, disdaining to step onto the cemetery grounds. “A church,” Jackal said in obvious distaste. “Of course it would be a church. Why am I even surprised? You really don’t get this whole demon thing, do you, sister?”

I gave him a strange look. In New Covington, all churches had been razed and burned by the vampire lords long before I was born. There were stories and speculation as to why, of course, but some of the more colorful rumors said that vampires couldn’t cross the threshold of a church, couldn’t set foot on holy ground, and burned up if they tried.

Obviously, they were wrong. I was standing right here, in the shadow of a church, and I was fine. But Kanin and Jackal still looked reluctant to approach, and I grinned at my brother over the strip of earth separating us.

“What’s the matter, Jackal? Afraid you’re going to burst into flames if you set foot on the grounds?”

His sneer had an edge to it. “Isn’t that cute? A brand-new demon spawn, all puffed up and smug, thinking she’s invincible. Let me make one thing clear, sister,” he went on, still keeping well back from the edge of the lot. “I’m not afraid of the Big Guy, never have been, never will be. But, unlike some newbie vamps that won’t be named, I have never been confused as to what I am. Even if God is dead, even if He’s not here anymore—hell, even if He’s nothing but a boogeyman made up by pathetic humans desperate for some sort of hope—I, at least, am still a demon. I’ve never pretended anything different. And God, if He is real, still hates us.”

Jackal crossed his arms, smirking at me. “So, go ahead, my dear little sister. Stomp on His territory a while longer. Maybe He’s dead after all. But if a lightning bolt strikes you dead in the next thirty seconds, I’ll save us some time and say ‘see you in hell’ right now.”

My stomach twisted. I remembered something Jebbadiah Crosse had asked me, long ago, when I hadn’t been a vampire for long and had first stumbled upon his group.

“Do you believe in God, Allison?”

“No,” I said immediately. “Is this the part where you tell me I’m going to hell now?”

“This is hell,” Jebbadiah said. “This is our punishment, our Tribulation. God has abandoned this world. The faithful have already gone on to their reward, and He has left the rest of us here, at the mercy of the demons and the devils. The sins of our fathers have passed on to their children, and their children’s children, and it will continue to be so until this world is completely destroyed. So it doesn’t matter if you believe in God or not, because He is not here.”

I’d been skeptical before. I didn’t know what I believed now.

“Allison.” Kanin’s soft, cool voice came to me over the silent graveyard. I looked up, expecting him to call me back, to tell me we were wasting time, that we had to keep moving. His eyes were dark and hooded, his expression blank, as he gazed at me from the edge of the lot. “Do you know this place?”

I nodded. “I’ve been here before,” I told him, stepping around a headstone, brushing the cold rock with my fingers. The same tombstone Zeke had braced himself against when Jeb had whipped him for a crime I couldn’t remember now. “We—Zeke’s group—passed through this town on their way to Eden,” I continued, looking at the burned, blackened church. “They stopped here to rest, but they were attacked the next night.” I turned my head and shot a glare at Jackal, angry again. “By Jackal’s thugs.”

“Huh.” Jackal gazed around with interest now, unconcerned with the icy glare I was giving him. “So this is the spot where they nabbed everyone, is it? Small world.”

“They killed a woman, you know,” I spat at him. “Shot her in cold blood, and she couldn’t even defend herself. Oh, forget it.” Shaking my head, I curled my lip into a sneer. “Why am I telling you any of this—you certainly don’t care.”

“At last,” Jackal returned, smiling. “It starts to sink in. I was afraid I’d have to listen to another sermon.”

I wanted to snap at him, but it was useless. Instead, I turned and brushed snow off the cold tombstone as memories rose up to swirl around me. I recalled what had happened in this cemetery—seeing Zeke and Jeb from the cover of darkness. Watching as Jeb used a car antenna to whip his adopted son for an earlier sin. Watching Zeke with his head bowed, saying nothing. And what had happened after—the sudden attack, finding Zeke and traveling with him to Old Chicago to rescue the others—it all came back, reminding me yet again of what I had lost. That frozen piece of time in utter darkness, when Zeke had finally leaned in and kissed me, was forever etched into my memory and would never fade. I could see him now, standing beside me, as clearly as that memory would allow, his bright blue eyes shining with hope and determination. And I knew why I’d wanted to come here, to this spot, one more time.

Reaching back, I unhooked the chain from around my neck, drawing it and the tiny silver cross over my head. Refastening the clasp, I set it and the cross gently down on the gravestone, my fingers lingering on the metal winking against the rock.

Goodbye, Zeke.

Then I turned and crossed the grounds to where the two vampires waited on the sidewalk. Jackal shook his head as I joined them, but Kanin’s dark eyes remained on me, sympathetic and appraising.

“Are you finished?” he asked gently, and I nodded.

“Yeah,” I whispered, with one last glance at the church and the phantom memories that still lingered. The glint of silver, tiny and bright, caught my eye in the darkness, and I turned away. “Let’s go. I’m done here.”

We headed back toward the main road. No one, not even Jackal, said anything, leaving me to my thoughts and the persistent, swirling memories that refused to leave me alone. Several times, I almost turned around and went back; that cross was my last connection to Zeke, the only part of him I still had. But in the end, I left it on the grave in the middle of a lonely cemetery. I couldn’t dwell in the past. Zeke was gone. I had to move forward.

As we stepped between two dead vehicles and the road stretched away once more, the sudden growl of an engine cut through the silence. I jerked up, caught a glimpse of flying snow and red taillights as two motorcycles flashed between cars and vanished. The tracks from the tires shot away through the snow and followed the motorcycles into the dark, down the highway, and out of sight. The whine of their bike engines echoed over the buildings, ebbing away into the night.

I whirled on Jackal. “Those were raiders!” I exclaimed, almost an accusation. He raised a patronizing eyebrow, and I narrowed my gaze. “Why are they here? What do they want?”

The raider king gave me a serene smirk. “What makes you think they were mine, sister?”

“Uh, because we’re a couple days from Old Chicago? Because this is the same town where they attacked us last time?” He continued to smirk at me, and I scowled. “Don’t play innocent—those were your bikers. What did they want?”

“Haven’t a clue,” Jackal said breezily. “They didn’t exactly stick around for tea and gossip, did they?”

I bared my fangs at his obnoxiousness. “Aren’t you their king? Wouldn’t they at least try to talk to you if they knew you were here?”

Jackal snorted. “Sister, please. The minions aren’t stupid. If you were a bloodbag and you saw three vampires walking up the road toward your house, what would you do? Stay and have a nice little chat? Or run like hell?” He shook his head. “The minions, if they were mine, did exactly what they always do—saved their own worthless hides. As well they should. I don’t want them getting comfortable with vampires. I worked very hard to make sure they’re all scared shitless of me, and I’ll thank you not to screw that up. My raiders, especially, know better than to hang around, waiting to be eaten. I’m their king, not their pal. So, yes, we saw two bikers, and they peed themselves and ran away. What’s the problem here?”

“Just that... I mean...” I trailed off, frustrated that I knew something was wrong, and I couldn’t put it into words. Kanin, however, spoke up from behind me.

“And is it usual that two of your humans would stake out a town for the sole purpose of watching for vampires?” he asked. “And that they chose this town, which they knew we would have to pass on the way to Old Chicago?”

Jackal shrugged. “Maybe. Who gives a damn, anyway? Don’t glare at me, old man,” he added, facing Kanin down. “I’m not a mind reader. I can’t tell what the minions are thinking every second of every day. It’s just a couple bloodbags. What do you think they’re going to do?”

“I don’t know,” Kanin admitted, his dark gaze moving to the road ahead. “But I think we should proceed with caution.”

* * *

Nothing unusual happened that night. We met no more raiders on the road, heard no motorcycles tearing away from us at top speed, encountered no human life at all. The path to Old Chicago was as it had always been: silent, cold and dark, twisting through woods and deserted towns, past the skeletons of houses and the ancient remains of cars buried in the snow. Near dawn, we split up to bury ourselves in the frozen earth, as Kanin was suddenly wary of being aboveground and exposed. I slept in my dark grave, silent, dreamless and undisturbed, and rose the next night to a still, icy world. It had stopped snowing, but sometime during the day the snow had turned to sleet, and everything was outlined in a thin layer of ice. I shook snow from my hair and clothes and paused a moment to concentrate on Kanin and Jackal, searching for them through our blood tie.

They weren’t far. I backtracked through the trees until I found the road again and saw Jackal leaning against a dead tree at the edge of the pavement. He raised an eyebrow as I came up, but didn’t move.

“Where’s Kanin?” I asked, gazing around for the Master vampire. Our blood tie allowed me to sense my sire’s general direction, and even that he wasn’t very far, but it didn’t let me know what he was doing. Jackal shrugged.

“You know as much as I do, sister. The old bastard is off that way—” he nodded over a rise on the other side of the road “—but of course he hasn’t told me what he’s doing. For all I know, he could be chasing squirrels to make a necklace from their little squirrel balls.” He looked content not to move from his position as I glared at him. “If you’re so curious, why don’t you go ask him?”

“Yeah. I’ll do that.”

Following our blood tie, I trekked over the rise and through the snow, weaving through trees and around a rotting cabin, until I found him. He stood with his back to me at the edge of the road where it curved around a bend, his tall, imposing form a featureless silhouette against the snow.

“Kanin.” I walked to his side, not expecting him to acknowledge me but knowing he knew I was there. As predicted, he didn’t turn, but continued to gaze down the road, his face unreadable. I peered into the darkness, saw nothing unusual, and glanced back. “What are you looking for?”

“I don’t know.” Kanin sounded suspicious, and I caught the barest note of frustration beneath his cool tone, a hint I would have never caught a month ago. The Master vampire stared down the winding pavement, and his eyes narrowed. “I feel we are being watched.”

I frowned. The road and the forest surrounding it were empty. Nothing moved or made a sound in the shadows; no tracks lay in the snow except our own. “Rabids?” I asked.

“No.” Kanin shook his head. “Rabids would not simply watch from the woods. They would have attacked us by now.”

“Raiders, then?”

“Perhaps. Though I am uncertain as to why they would be stalking us. And I cannot sense, or smell, any humans nearby.”

I gave him a faint smile. “Is it possible you’re just being paranoid after last night?”

He finally looked at me, a hint of amusement crossing his face. “One does not live to be several centuries old without a little paranoia,” he said, the corner of his mouth curving just slightly. “But perhaps you are right. In any case, there is little we can do about it now. Let’s keep moving. Once we reach Old Chicago, I am sure we will find answers.”

Several hours later, the road widened and became a highway, and the buildings around us grew larger and more numerous as we approached the outskirts of the city. According to Jackal, we were still a day out from Old Chicago, though we’d left the wilderness behind and had entered the surrounding suburban districts. The tangle of trees and undergrowth now wrapped themselves around houses, stores and road signs, and the once-empty highway slowly grew choked with cars. One side of it, anyway. The other side, the side leading toward Old Chicago, was completely barren. I’d seen this before: the endless stream of dead, crumpled vehicles, thousands of people trying to flee the cities all at once. I stared at the cars we passed, repressing a shiver. It must’ve been chaos, back then. Vehicles lay smashed against each other, sometimes flipped to the side or all the way onto the roof. A skeleton lay half in, half out of a broken windshield, splayed across the hood in the snow. The blackened hulk of a van lay overturned in a ditch, one small bony arm reaching through the shattered window, as if trying to claw itself free.

Kanin and Jackal continued on, barely glancing at the silent vehicles and their grisly contents. I guessed that Kanin had been alive for so long, nothing surprised or disturbed him anymore. And Jackal certainly wouldn’t care about a bunch of dead meatsacks, as he would so elegantly put it. I wondered if that would ever happen to me, if I would eventually live so long, the sight of mass death and destruction wouldn’t faze me at all.

Ahead of us, the mouth of a tunnel loomed over the river of cars, a yawning black hole set into a rise. The tunnel was pitch-black, and though my vampire sight allowed me to see in utter darkness, I couldn’t glimpse the end of it.

However, something was coming out of that dark hole that made me stop in my tracks. Silent and unseen, but unmistakable. It roused my demon and caused the Hunger to stir restlessly, spreading a low ache across my insides.

The scent of blood. A lot of it. Freshly spilled, coming from somewhere within that looming blackness.

I hurried forward, joining Kanin and Jackal at the entrance. Both vampires were gazing into the mouth of the tunnel warily, though the smell was probably making them just as Hungry as I was.

“Huh,” Jackal remarked, arms crossed as he stared into the darkness. “That’s interesting. Last I checked, there wasn’t anyone living on this stretch of road. The minions killed off anyone in a twenty-mile radius of Chicago.”

I gazed into the tunnel, trying to ignore the familiar ache spreading through my insides. “Do you think someone is in there?”

“If they are, their guts are all over the pavement, judging from the smell.” Jackal sniffed, curling a lip in distaste. “Nothing is going to be alive in there, sister. I wouldn’t get your hopes up.”

A scream rang out, somewhere in the darkness, and I snarled in return. “Someone’s in trouble,” I hissed at the other vampires, and drew my katana. “Screw it! I’m going in.”

Without waiting for a reply, I sprinted into the passageway.

The road through the tunnel was even more clogged with vehicles than the outside. Cars lay on both sides of the road, some knocked sideways or smashed into walls in their desire to escape. I wove through a maze of vehicles, sometimes having to scramble over hoods or roofs in order to navigate. Once, I had to duck beneath an enormous rectangular truck—a semi, I remembered they were called—sitting at an angle and blocking both lanes. I heard Jackal and Kanin behind me, and Jackal’s comment that I was a pain in the ass reached me over the labyrinth of cars, but I concentrated on moving forward. In this dark, confined space, the scent of blood was overpowering, clinging to everything and making it impossible to sense anything else. The Hunger was raging inside, but I kept a tight hold on it, determined to stay in control. When I found the owner of that scream, I was not going to pounce and ravage them like a wild animal.

Though it wouldn’t have mattered, anyway.

As I reached the spot where the blood scent was strongest, the maze of cars suddenly thinned. I stood in a small open space, several cars forming a circle around me, as if they had been deliberately moved or pushed aside. It was definitely the source of the smell. Fresh pools of blood stained the pavement, still wet and glimmering, in the middle of the circle. But there was no one here, no bodies or other signs of a scuffle, though I was sure this was the place I’d heard the scream.

That’s weird, I thought, walking up to observe the pools of blood, keeping my Hunger firmly in check. I would not, I told it, lap up the puddles from the ground like some damn stray dog. Fresh blood with no bodies. Where...

Something warm dripped onto my face from above. Briefly, I closed my eyes, bracing myself, then looked up.

There were three of them. Two men and a woman, hanging from the ceiling of the tunnel with their hands tied behind them, the ropes around their necks creaking as they dangled in lazy circles. They had been split open, gutted from chin to groin, intestines spilling from their stomachs like pink snakes. Blood soaked the entire front of their bodies, wet and black, filling the air with the smell of death.

I backed away, nearly running into Jackal as he and Kanin emerged from the maze of cars, both gazing up at the bodies. “Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Jackal remarked, shaking his head at the corpses. “You’d think stringing bodies up would get old after a while. I think the old nutbag is losing his creative touch.”

“This wasn’t Sarren,” Kanin muttered, as I looked to him for answers. “This was done recently. Tonight. Someone wanted us to see this—they knew we would be here....” He cast a grim look around the enclosed space. “We have to leave now.”

A clang, hollow and metallic, echoed through the tunnel ahead. What immediately followed raised the hair on my neck. Shrieks and wails rose into the air, the sound of claws scraping over metal and pavement, and the stench of carrion, death and wrongness filtered through the overpowering smell of blood.

“Rabids!” I snarled, surging back toward Kanin and Jackal. A lot of them. I could see their pale, skeletal forms leaping over cars, skittering over roofs or under tires, hissing and screaming. They were frenzied, crazy from the scent of blood, and coming right at us.

“Fall back!” Kanin ordered, drawing away from the open circle. “They’ll stop when they reach the bodies, and we can find a way around.”

But a sudden screeching and wailing from the other direction made us freeze. More rabids, foaming and wild-eyed, rushed toward us over the maze of cars. We were trapped in the middle.

With a snarl, Jackal brandished his fire ax, and I swung my katana as the horde came on, their screams reverberating through the tunnel in a deafening cacophony. No going off on my own this time; I stood back-to-back with Kanin and Jackal, facing the monsters as they clambered over cars and swarmed toward us. I lashed out at the first rabid, cutting clean through its body, splitting it in two, then whipped my sword down to behead the next that sprang forward. Then it was just chaos: shrieking rabids, slashing claws and fangs, an endless wave of pale bodies flinging themselves at me. I moved on instinct, spinning from one attack to the next, the blade dancing in my hands.

A roar behind me made me turn. Jackal stood in the center of a writhing heap of rabids, several spindly monsters clinging to his back, biting and clawing. He bashed the head of his ax into the ones leaping at him, knocking them away, but more piled on him, and sheer numbers were beginning to drag him down. His face was streaked with blood, and dark crimson stained his collar and the back of his neck.

Snarling, I rushed in from the side, plunged my blade into one of the rabids clawing at his shoulders, and ripped it away. While Jackal continued to fend off the rabids springing at him, I began cutting away the monsters that clung to his back, freeing him from the pile. I couldn’t see Kanin, didn’t know where he was, but the Master vampire was the strongest and most lethal fighter of us all. He could take care of himself.

As I cut down the last of the rabids clawing at Jackal, something hit me from behind, shrieking in my ear, sinking curved talons into my chest and shoulder. I yelled as the blow drove me to my knees, but a moment later the weight was gone, as Jackal grabbed the rabid by the back of the neck, spun, and smashed its head through a car window. Knocking aside another body that lunged at me, he glanced down with a savage grin and held out a hand.

“Come on, sister. On your feet. We’re not done with these bastards yet.”

I grabbed his wrist, and he yanked me upright. The rabids were still coming at us, insane with bloodlust, but the swarm was smaller now. From the corner of my eye I caught a glimpse of Kanin, surrounded by pale bodies, smoothly decapitating a rabid that lunged at him, and the monster’s body collapsed like its strings had been cut while the head bounced once and rolled under a tire.

Side by side, Jackal and I cut our way through the last of the horde, crushing skulls and slicing necks until the final monster leaped at us and was struck down, meeting Jackal’s ax across its face and my sword through its middle. As it dropped, twitching, to the pavement, the echo of its dying shriek faded away, and the tunnel fell silent once more.

“Well. That was entertaining.” Jackal lowered his ax with a grimace, hunching his shoulders. The back of his duster was shredded, long gashes left by curved talons, though the scratches across his face were already healing. His eyes gleamed dangerously as he stared around at the carnage. “Anyone else get the feeling we’ve been set up?”

Kanin strode back to us, his bright, thin blade already vanished from his hand. “Let’s keep moving,” he ordered, his tone brisk. “We don’t want to stay here. Hurry.”

We rushed through the maze of cars until we came to the edge of the tunnel, back into the open. Another semi truck blocked most of the entrance, its doors flung back, showing an empty interior. The unmistakable stench of rabids wafted from the opening, and a pair of motorcycle tracks sped away down the road and vanished into the night.

“Well, well,” Jackal mused, glancing from the truck to the empty road before us. “Isn’t that amusing? Looks like we were set up, after all. Oh, someone is going to die. Very painfully, I think.” He met Kanin’s dark stare and narrowed his eyes. “Old man, if you say anything along the lines of ‘I told you so,’ you both can figure out how to get into Chicago without me.”

Kanin didn’t reply, but I stared at the tracks until they vanished around a bend, and frowned at Jackal. “Why are your people attacking us?” I growled, glaring at him. “I thought you had a handle on them.” He scowled back.

“If I knew the reason, sister, I wouldn’t be here.” His eyes glinted. “But you can be sure I will get to the bottom of this. And when I do, the backstabbing little shits are going to wish they were never born.” Glancing at me and Kanin, he curled a lip. “You two can go around, if you want. Keep chasing the psychopath. I’m going back to my city, and I’m going to bash in some heads until they remember who their king is.”

“No,” I shot back. “There’s no time to go around.” I looked at Kanin, silently watching us both, and hardened my voice. “We have to catch up to Sarren, and we can’t do that if we keep taking detours. Old Chicago is the only place we have a chance of catching up. We’ll grab a couple bikes while Jackal is bashing in heads and keep going to Eden. But we can’t turn back now.”

“I am not disagreeing with you, Allison,” Kanin said. His gaze drifted to the road behind us, at the tracks fading in the snow, and his expression turned dark. “If the straightest way to Eden is through Old Chicago, we will continue in that direction. But I would advise extreme caution now, as it seems there are humans who wish us harm.”

“Oh, don’t worry, old man,” Jackal growled, a dangerous promise in his voice. “There won’t be for much longer.”

Chapter 5

We reached the outskirts of the city later that night.

I’d forgotten how huge Chicago was; even the urban sprawl leading up to the main city seemed to go on forever. Miles and miles of empty, silent streets and decaying houses, vehicles rotting along the shoulder, streetlamps and signs lying in the road. The last time I’d come through here, I’d been riding a stolen motorcycle and hadn’t paid much attention to my surroundings as they flew by. My focus had been on steering the bike and avoiding obstacles...and on the person sitting behind me, his arms around my waist.

I shot a glance at Jackal walking beside me, his expression dangerous. And for a brief, irrational moment, resentment flickered. He probably wasn’t thinking of what had happened the night I’d come through his territory, and if he was, he didn’t care. But I remembered. Darren’s screams when Jackal had thrown him into a cage with a rabid and let it rip him apart, just to set an example. Fighting an army of raiders to rescue the rest of Zeke’s group, and setting a building on fire to escape. And, of course, the fight atop Jackal’s tower, where I’d faced my blood brother for the first time, and he’d nearly killed me.

Jackal caught me looking at him and raised an eyebrow. “What’s that look for?” he challenged.

I faced the road again. “Nothing.”

“Bullshit.” Jackal’s gaze lingered on me. “You’re thinking about Old Chicago and the last time you came through. You’re remembering all those fun little moments when I killed your humans, tortured them, threw them into the ring with rabids—all those good times.” His gaze narrowed. “Don’t try to deny it, sister. It’s written all over your face.”

I snarled at him, baring fangs, tempted to draw my sword and slash it through his smirking mouth. “Don’t you ever shut up?” I spat. “Yes, I’m thinking about Old Chicago, and what a bastard you were when we first met. I’m wondering why the hell I’m even talking to you now and not trying to cut the stupid head from your body. We should’ve had that rematch a long time ago.”

“Aw, sister, I’m hurt,” Jackal mocked, putting a hand to his chest. “That’s not how I remember it. I remember discovering I had a blood sibling. I remember offering to share everything with her. Because, why not? She was a decent fighter, and I was getting kind of bored talking to brainless minions. Could’ve been fun. But, no.” His voice hardened. “I remember having the cure for Rabidism right at my fingertips, decades of searching, planning, about to pay off. And then, my own sister turned her back on the cure, on ending the virus, in order to save a few pathetic humans.”

“You staked me and threw me out a window!”

“You had already made up your mind by then.” Jackal glared back, completely serious. “I couldn’t talk you out of it—you’d chosen your side, and it was with the bloodbags. So, yes, I tried to kill you. Because you had waltzed into something that had been cumulating for years, without even knowing what you were threatening, and you destroyed it.” His eyes narrowed, mouth setting into a grim line. “I would’ve ended Rabidism, sister. If that old human had discovered the cure, I would’ve shared it. I want the rabids gone just as much as anyone. But then you came along, and you were so worried about saving a few humans, you couldn’t see the bigger picture. If you’d let me finish what I’d started years ago, all of this could’ve been avoided. Sarren would’ve never gotten the virus, he wouldn’t be on his way to destroy Eden right now, and your sappy little human might still be alive.”

I roared and spun on Jackal, swinging my blade at his throat. It met the head of the fire ax as Jackal whipped it up to block, sending a ringing screech into the air as the two weapons collided. Snarling, Jackal swung the ax at my face, the broad, bloody edge barely missing me as I ducked. I slashed up with the katana, aiming for his chest, and he dropped the ax down to meet it. There was another clang as the weapons met, and we glared at each other over the crossed blades.

“Enough!”

And Kanin was there, grabbing me by the collar, pulling us apart. The Master vampire easily held Jackal back with one arm and kept a tight hold of my coat with the other. “That is enough,” he ordered in his cold, steely voice. “Stop it, both of you. We don’t have time for this.”

Jackal shrugged off Kanin’s arm and backed away, sneering at me. I growled and bared my fangs, daring him to say something, but he just walked away. I watched him go, fury making me see red. Murdering, insufferable bastard. I’d tear him in half and the world would be a better place for it.

“Allison, stop,” Kanin said, putting a hand on my arm. I was shaking with rage, and gripped the sword hilt to force the anger down, back into the darkness that it came from. Kanin waited with me, keeping a light but firm hold on my elbow, until I was in control again.

When the rage had faded somewhat, I sheathed my katana, feeling the weight of Kanin’s stare still on me. “I’m fine,” I told him, angry with myself now. “Sorry. Jackal was being a bastard, again. I shouldn’t have let him get to me.”

Kanin released my arm but didn’t move. “What did he say?” the Master vampire asked.

“That...it’s my fault we’re chasing Sarren now. If I hadn’t come after the group in Old Chicago, none of this would’ve happened. Jeb might’ve discovered a cure. Sarren wouldn’t have released the virus. And...Zeke would still be alive.”

Kanin was silent a moment. It had begun snowing again, soft flakes drifting from the sky, swirling around us. “Do you believe that?” the vampire finally asked.

“I don’t know what to believe anymore, Kanin.” I raked hair out of my face, shoving it back, and faced the road again. “It seems like every decision, every choice I make, somehow backfires on me in the end. No matter what I do, things just get worse. Maybe...” I swallowed hard. “Maybe it is my fault...that Zeke died. Maybe the whole damn world will go extinct, because of me.”

Kanin chuckled, nearly making me fall over in shock. “You are far too young to carry that burden, Allison,” he said. “If we are going to be throwing around blame, let us go back even farther, before you were ever born. Let us go back to when the virus and the rabids were first created.”

Embarrassed, I ducked my head. “I...I didn’t mean it like that.”

“I know.” The Master vampire sighed. “But, if we are talking about choice and regret, what has happened cannot be undone. And dwelling on the past changes nothing. You will only drive yourself to insanity if you do.” He sighed again, sounding like he carried the weight of the world on his shoulders. “Trust me on that.”

A shot rang out in the darkness.

I jerked, tensing as the bark of gunfire echoed over the rooftops, sounding fairly close. It faded, but was quickly followed by a roar of fury that was instantly familiar. Jackal.

Kanin and I took off running toward the sound, as the scent of blood and smoke drifted to me over the breeze. I pushed my way through a weed-choked space between two buildings and caught sight of my brother in the road ahead. He was sitting against a dead car, his ax lying in the road beside him, one hand pressed to his chest. The pavement beneath him was spattered in red, and Jackal’s fangs were out in a grimace of agony.

I darted across the road and dropped beside him, blinking in shock. The scent of blood was everywhere, but I couldn’t see a wound until Jackal dropped his hand. A tiny hole had been torn through his duster right below the collarbone, no larger than a dime. It didn’t look big enough to account for all the blood...until Jackal slumped forward and I saw the exit wound.

I winced as Kanin joined us, his dark gaze going to the massive hole in Jackal’s back, nearly the size of my fist. It was healing, but I knew it had to hurt. Kanin’s eyes narrowed, and he peered through the broken glass, scanning the street.

“Where are they?” he muttered as I cautiously poked my head around the hood. A booming retort rang out, and something struck the car a few inches from my face, sparking off the metal. I flinched and ducked behind the barrier again, and Jackal gave a strangled laugh.

“I wouldn’t poke my head up if I were you, sister,” he said through gritted teeth. “A rifle shot to the forehead might not kill you, but it’ll give you one hell of a headache.” He grimaced, pushing himself off the car, leaving a dark smear behind him. “I think the bastard is in that house,” he told Kanin, nodding to a two-story ruin at the end of the street. “Shooting at us from the attic window.” His eyes gleamed, and he bared his fangs in an evil grin. “Cocky little shit, isn’t he?”

I risked a quick peek through the broken glass of the car window, and caught the glint of metal from the tiny darkened window at the very top of the house. “Okay,” I mused, ducking back down. “We know where he is. How do we get past without getting shot full of holes?”

“Get past him?” Jackal glanced at me and snorted. “You think we’re going to sneak around our trigger-happy friend and continue our merry way—that’s cute, sister. Me, I’m a little Hungry right now, and a lot pissed off. I’m planning to shove that rifle so far down his throat, he’ll feel it out the rectum.”

“So, we’re going to charge the crazy man’s house while he has an open street to fire on us. That sounds like a great plan.”

“And what were you planning to do? Offer cookies and ask the psycho murdering bandit to please stop shooting us?”

Kanin sighed and half rose, taking in the street, the cars and the house in one practiced glance. “I’ll draw his fire,” the Master vampire said calmly. “You two stay low, and keep moving. I’ll meet you upstairs.”

He stepped into the street, and instantly a shot rang out, shattering the window of a truck behind us. I flinched, but Kanin kept walking, a black silhouette against the snow and cars. He moved like a shadow, fading in and out of the darkness, always visible but sometimes no more than a blur. Shots echoed in the street and sparked off metal and pavement, but nothing seemed to touch the vampire, who continued down the street as if out for a stroll.

Jackal swatted my arm. “Quit gaping,” he ordered, ignoring my glare, and jerked his head up the road. “Come on, while the old man has his attention.”

We raced up the street in a half crouch, darting behind cover when we could. The human, whoever he was, continued to fire, but not at us, though I had no idea where Kanin was after the first few minutes. Whatever he was doing, however, seemed to work. We reached the doorway of the rotted, half-crumbling building and ducked inside, the reports of the gun now echoing somewhere above us.

Jackal stalked forward with a growl, his eyes glowing a vicious yellow in the darkness, but I paused. Something about this felt wrong, though I couldn’t put my finger on what. Cautiously, I followed Jackal through the house, tensing as we passed old rooms full of dust and rubble, overturned chairs and rotting furniture, remnants of the time before. I was wary of ambushes, but the rooms were abandoned, and Jackal moved swiftly up the floors without slowing down.

A peeling, broken staircase led the way to the third floor, and we had just started up it when a shout rang out overhead, followed by a flurry of cursing. A moment later, footsteps clattered across the floor, and a human appeared at the top of the steps, gazing down at us, wide-eyed. He was dressed in dusty leathers, and clutched the long barrel of a rifle in one hand.

At the sight of us, the man let out another curse and quickly turned to flee back up the stairs, but Jackal gave a roar and surged forward, grabbing him by the neck and lifting him off his feet.

“Ah ah ahhhh, where do you think you’re going, minion?” Stalking into the attic, the raider king threw the human into a wall with enough force to put a hole in the plaster, and the man slumped to the floor, dazed. Jackal loomed over him, his eyes murderous. “I think you’re going to sit right there and tell me what the hell is going on, before I start ripping off important body parts. If you tell me what I want to know, right now, I might start with your head, and not your arms.”

I caught a glimpse of a dark silhouette in the corner by the window: Kanin, watching impassively from his place against the wall. Briefly, I wondered how the Master vampire had gotten in without being shot...but it was Kanin. There was a whole lot I still didn’t know about him.

The man groaned, pawing weakly for the rifle. With a growl, Jackal reached down, grabbed him by the throat, and slammed him into the wall. I forced myself not to interfere. I knew Jackal had to be starving, on the brink of losing it, the blood from the gunshot wound still wet and glimmering against his back. But he smiled evilly at the raider, his voice ominous but under control when he spoke.

“I believe I asked you a question, minion,” the raider king said in a conversational tone, though his fangs were bared and fully extended. “And I don’t have a lot of patience to spare right now. So, if you don’t want me to rip the arms from your sockets, I’d start talking. Why are you attacking us? Who’s involved? Is this some offshoot of discontents I’m going to have to wipe out, or does the entire city have a death wish?”

The human gagged, clawing futilely at the hand around his throat. But, shockingly, he looked up at the raider king, his eyes bright with pain and fear, and gave a raspy chuckle. “You’re...not in charge...anymore, Jackal,” he gritted out, with the defiance of someone who knew he was dead. “You promised immortality...and you never delivered. Well...we have a new king now. One who agreed to Turn...whoever got rid of you.”

My insides went cold.

“Is that so?” Jackal continued, his voice gone soft and deadly. “And does this new king have a name, or do I have to guess?”

“He said...you would know who he is,” the raider choked out. “And...to come find him...in the flooded city.” He coughed and held up his hands. One was empty, but the other held a tiny metal box, which he clicked open to reveal a small flame. Glancing at the raider king, he gave a last defiant sneer. “If you make it that far.”

Against the wall, Kanin straightened. “James—” he began, but it was too late. The raider opened his fingers, and the item, whatever it was, dropped to the floor.

A few things happened all at once.

As soon as the flame dropped from the raider’s hand, Jackal leaped back, flinging himself toward the wall. Abruptly released, the raider’s body hit the ground at about the same time as the metal box. There was a short hiss—

—and a wave of fire erupted from the tiny flame, racing across the floor and up the walls, turning the room into an inferno. It engulfed the human on the floor, who screamed and thrashed, flailing about in agony as his clothes caught fire. I barely heard him. Terror rose up, blinding and all-consuming, and I looked wildly around for an escape route. The walls were a mass of rolling orange flames, snapping and tearing at me; I could feel the awful heat against my cold skin and cringed back with a hiss. I had to get out of here, but there was nowhere to go; wherever I looked, there was fire....

“Allison!”

Something grabbed my arm as I stood there, on the verge of panic. “Calm yourself,” Kanin ordered, as I snarled and tried yanking back. “Listen to me. We cannot take the stairs; the lower rooms are completely engulfed, and it will take too long to reach the door. We must go through the window.”

The window? I looked to the far wall, at the opening where the human had been shooting. I could barely see the window through the snapping flames, and cringed back. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“No.” Kanin’s voice was ruthlessly calm. “It is the only way. Jackal has already gone through. We must follow him if we are to survive this.”

The flames roared at me, filling my mind, until all I could see was orange and red. I couldn’t think; I could almost feel the skin peeling from my bones, blackened and bubbling in the heat. If it wasn’t for Kanin’s grip on my arm, I would’ve fled, though I didn’t know where I would go. All I could think of was getting away from the flames. And Kanin wanted me to leap through the fire? “I can’t!” I told him, baring my fangs in fear. “I’ll never make it.”

“You must. I’ll be right behind you.”

“Kanin...”

“Allison.” Kanin grabbed my other arm, forcing me to look at him. His voice compelled. I felt it reverberate through me, a quiet, undeniable thrum. “Trust me.”

I bit my lip, and squeezed my eyes shut, blocking out the flames. “You can do this,” Kanin went on, in that same soothing tone. I focused on his voice, ignoring the roar of the flames around us, the heat burning my face. “The fire won’t touch you. It will be over in a few seconds, but you must be quick. Are you ready?”

Swallowing, I clenched my fists, pushed back my fear, and nodded.

“Then go.” Kanin released me. I turned and sprinted for the wall of flames.

They loomed before me, horrifically bright, snapping and clawing in the wind. For a second, I almost balked, my vampire instincts screaming at me to stop, to run away from our deadliest enemy besides the sun. Kanin’s voice echoed in my head, pushing me forward. I reached the roaring, living wall and dove through the flames, praying I wouldn’t catch fire.

There was a moment of blinding pain, a scalding heat ripping across my face and hands. And then cold winter air hit my skin as I tumbled through the window, hit the edge of the roof, and fell into the bushes below.

Snarling, fangs bared, I struggled to my feet and lurched away from the house. Heat clawed at my back as I ripped through vines and branches and fled into the road. Only when I was on the other side of the street did I turn and look back.

My instincts cringed, urging me to move even farther away. The house was a raging inferno against the sky, tongues of fire snapping in every direction. I panicked for a moment, not seeing Kanin anywhere, afraid that he was still trapped upstairs. But then a shadow melted away from the house, and Kanin’s dark form glided across the street toward me, making me slump in relief.

“Are you injured?” he asked, joining me on the sidewalk. I shook my head, still trying to calm down. My face and hands stung, and I caught a faint scent of burned hair that I tried to ignore, but I didn’t seem to be badly hurt. Another few seconds, and it might’ve been a different story.

“Where’s Jackal?” I asked, looking around. I vaguely remembered Kanin telling me that Jackal had gotten out, but everything from the past few minutes was sort of a blur.

“He leaped out the window the second he realized what was happening,” Kanin replied, his voice taking on a slight edge. “I expect he’s around here somewhere.”

I shook myself. The fire had apparently made my brain stop working; the only thought on my mind had been to get away, but it was slowly starting to focus again. “I don’t understand,” I said. “What do you mean, when he realized what was happening?”

“This was a trap, Allison.” Kanin looked back at the inferno. “Nothing catches fire that quickly unless it has been doused in something. Gasoline, or alcohol. I didn’t notice when I first came in, and I expect you and Jackal didn’t, either, but the walls and floor had been soaked in something flammable. Sometimes, not having to breathe is a blessing, but not this time.” He shook his head, looking annoyed, with himself or with us, I couldn’t tell. “I’m certain our raider friend did not intend to set the house on fire with himself still inside,” Kanin continued grimly, “but when we surprised him, he figured he was already dead.”

“Which is a shame, if you ask me,” said a familiar voice, and Jackal sauntered out of the darkness. Ignoring me and Kanin, he shot an annoyed glare at the burning house. “I didn’t even get to rip his heart out before he went up in smoke. Inconsiderate bastard.”

I scowled at him. “You’re one to talk. You left us in there! No warning, no hesitation, nothing. I bet you didn’t even look back when you hit the ground.”

“And what would you have had me do, exactly?” Jackal questioned, baring his fangs. I smelled the blood on him, soaking his shirt and duster, and realized he was probably starving after taking that shot to the chest. “Hold your hand while you jumped out the window? Go back inside with the whole house about to collapse on top of me?” He sneered. “We’re still vampires, sister. We still look out for number one. If I’d been trapped up there, I wouldn’t have expected you or the old man to come back.”

“Guess you don’t know me as well as you think,” I said in a cold voice. “Because I would.”

“Really?” Jackal mocked, crossing his arms. “I find that a little hard to believe. I bet you can’t even look at the house now without wanting to figuratively piss yourself.”

“I believe,” Kanin said, sounding exasperated, “that you both are forgetting the more pressing bit of information we’ve learned tonight.” He looked past the burning building, the firelight dancing in his dark eyes. “Namely, who has turned the raiders against us, and who is still waiting in Old Chicago.”

Sarren. The thought made me tense, and hatred flared up again, searing and deadly, pushing back everything else. I hadn’t forgotten. Sarren would still pay for what he’d done. Just because I refused to become a demon didn’t mean I wouldn’t kill him. When I found him, I’d stop at nothing until his head was impaled on my sword, and his body was a pile of smoldering ash.

“Sarren,” Jackal agreed, and there was something new in his voice, too. A dangerous edge that hadn’t been there before, speaking of violence and retribution. “Okay, you psychopath. You want to play games? I’ll play games.” His eyes gleamed, and he looked back at the burning house, a completely humorless smile crossing his face. “Screw around with my city and my minions, will you? Think you’re going to be the new king?” He chuckled, and the sound made me shiver with anticipation. “I’ll slaughter every human and burn the entire city to the ground before I give it up to you.”

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” Kanin warned. “Vengeance can easily cloud the mind, and Sarren is hoping for that. We cannot become so caught up in revenge that we rush straight into a death trap, like we did tonight.” His gaze flickered to the inferno, just as there was a roar from within and the roof collapsed in a burst of embers and sparks. I flinched, and Kanin’s voice turned grave. “Sarren has us at a disadvantage,” he murmured. “There is an entire army between us, and he knows we’re coming for him. From here on, if we are to even reach him alive, we must be very careful. And ready for anything.”

I met Jackal’s eyes, and he gave a small smirk. For once, both of us were thinking the same thing. It didn’t matter how many thugs Sarren had between us and him, it didn’t matter what kind of nasty surprises he had waiting. We would fight our way through an army if we had to, carve them down one by one, until we found Sarren.

And destroyed him utterly for what he’d taken from us.

* * *

We took a winding, indirect route into the city that night. True, we had every intention of finding Sarren, even if we had to slice our way through the entire raider army to do it. But, as Jackal pointed out, there was more than one way to skin a vampire. The raiders were likely watching all the main roads into Old Chicago; there was no reason we shouldn’t try to sneak up on Sarren and avoid having to fight the whole city. Instead, Jackal took us through a series of rubble-strewn alleys and old buildings, claiming that the raiders never used them because they couldn’t get their bikes through.

Also, rabids still lurked in the empty corners of Old Chicago, a fact I discovered when we followed Jackal through an underground mall and several pale monsters leaped at us through the broken windows. After cutting our way through the mob, we continued to slip through narrow, deserted streets, always alert for guards and sentries, though the city remained eerily still. At one point, Kanin put out an arm and pointed silently to where a pair of raiders leaned against the railing over a levee, their backs to us. Jackal grinned, motioned us to stay put, and slipped into the shadows. A few minutes later, both men were yanked into the darkness with separate yelps, and Jackal returned reeking of blood, a satisfied grin on his face.

A few hours later, we stood on the banks of a sullen black lake so vast you couldn’t see the other side. According to Kanin, in the time before, it was called Lake Michigan, and Chicago had stood proudly along its edge. Now, the lake and the rivers that cut through the downtown area had crept over their banks and merged together, flooding part of the city but also creating a natural barrier against rabids.

I gazed over the rough waters, narrowing my eyes. I remembered Jackal’s city from the last time I’d come through; a tangle of narrow bridges, walkways and platforms that crisscrossed submerged buildings. From where I stood, it looked much the same. I could see the old barge that sat in the center of the river, and the ramshackle bridge that spanned the dark waters. Motorcycles and a few other vehicles were parked in haphazard rows along the surface of the barge, the final stop before you crossed into the lair of a raider king.

Or a deranged psychopathic vampire hell-bent on destroying the world.

“Home, sweet home.” Jackal sighed. “Or it will be, once I slaughter all the bastards who turned on me, stick their heads on pikes, and decorate the city with them. Maybe shove a torch through their teeth and use them to light the walkways, wha’d’ya think, sister?”

“It would definitely be you.” I gazed out over the water, seeing the distant lanterns and torchlight glimmering in the haze. Even from this distance, I could tell something was wrong. “There’s no one on the bridges,” I mused, remembering that the last time I’d come through, the walkways had been swarming with raiders. Now, the bridges and platforms stood empty, abandoned. “Everything looks deserted.”

Which meant we were walking into a trap, of course.

“Where do you think Sarren will be?” Kanin asked quietly. The Master vampire gazed over the water, observing the city with dark, impassive eyes. Jackal shrugged.

“Only one place he would be.” He pointed to where a tall, narrow skyscraper stood against the skyline. A light shone near the top, bright and familiar, making my skin prickle with recognition.

Jackal’s tower. The place I’d met my blood brother for the first time. Where we’d fought, on the top floor of the building, and he’d nearly killed me.

The place where Jebbadiah Crosse had died.

“It’s the only building in the city that still has power,” Jackal continued, staring up at the tower and the flickering light at the top. “And you can see everything that’s going on below. If I were Sarren, that’s where I would be.”

“Then that’s where we’re going.” The light shimmered across the water, taunting me, and I felt my fangs slide out. Sarren was close. This time, I wouldn’t just cut off his arm. This time, I was going for his head.

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