The Forever Song

Chapter 16

“There it is,” muttered Kanin.

I looked up from the railing, icy wind whipping at my hair and clothes, spitting water and flurries in my face. Around us, the black, roiling expanse of Lake Erie stretched on forever, unchanging. The waves tossed our little boat, bobbing it like a cork in the water, and I kept a tight hold on the rusty metal rail surrounding the deck. Kanin stood up front, arms crossed and eyes forward, a motionless statue against the churning waves and black sky. Jackal leaned against one of the rails and alternated between gazing out over the water and shooting me knowing smirks. When Zeke and I first arrived at the dock, my blood brother had taken one look at us and barked a laugh, though, shockingly for him, the only comment he made was a rather triumphant “About bloody time.” I’d been waiting for him to say something else, bristling and ready for a fight, but so far he remained mute on the subject, which was rather disconcerting.

I tried to ignore him as I gazed out over the water, squinting in the direction Kanin was facing, searching for the island. At first, I didn’t see anything but waves and flurries, swirling endlessly in the void. Then I saw it, a glimmer of light, cutting through the snow and darkness, beckoning like a distant star. As we got closer, more appeared, until I could vaguely make out the island, a black lump speckled with dancing lights against an even blacker sky.

Zeke moved behind me, slipping his arms around my waist and laying his chin on my shoulder, gazing toward the distant Eden. I laid my arms over his and leaned into him, feeling his solid presence at my back. “Home,” I heard him mutter, his voice pitched low. “I wonder what it looks like now. If anything can ever go back to normal.”

I didn’t know the answer to that, so I just squeezed his arm, watching the lights of Eden get brighter through the snow.

The boat bounced over a wave, coming down with a jolt that snapped my teeth together, and Zeke’s hold on me tightened. The shadowy mass of the island loomed closer, the outline of trees and rocks taking shape through the darkness.

The boat finally came to a drifting, bobbing halt, several feet from land. A snow-covered shoreline, probably a beach, stretched away to either side, glittering coldly under the stars.

“This is as far as I go,” the pilot said, his voice low with suppressed fear. “I don’t want them monsters swarming my boat if I get too close.” He pointed toward Eden with a gnarled finger. “Township and docks are in that direction, along the western side of the island. But we stopped unloading people there because of the rabids.”

“Thank you for your assistance,” Kanin replied, finally moving from his spot at the front of the boat. “We’ll continue on foot from here. Allison, Ezekiel.” He glanced back at us. “Let’s go.”

Jackal snorted, pushing himself upright as we moved to follow Kanin. “What am I, chopped liver?” he muttered, and swung his long legs over the railing. There was a muffled splash as the raider king dropped into the water and waded toward shore.

Zeke and I followed Kanin, stepping from the boat into the black waters of Lake Erie. Almost as soon as we were off the deck, the engine rumbled, and the boat turned around in a spray of icy mist, heading back toward the mainland. Apparently, no one was sticking around to take us back. We’d have to find our own way off Eden.

Curling a lip at the rapidly disappearing boat, I struck out for shore. Water sloshed against my legs and drenched the bottom half of my coat, bitingly cold even though the chill didn’t affect me. Waves smacked against my arms, and the ground under my feet kept shifting as I marched doggedly toward Eden.

I was relieved when my boots finally hit solid ground. Ice and pebbles crunched under my feet as I walked up the shore with Zeke, joining Kanin and Jackal at the edge. Beyond the embankment, a dark line of trees shimmered with distant lights twinkling erratically through the branches. Aside from the churning of waves on the beach and our footsteps in the snow, everything was silent and still, as if the island itself was holding its breath.

Kanin’s eyes, dark and solemn, bored into Zeke as we drew close. “Where would Sarren be?” he asked, and even his quiet voice sounded unnaturally loud in the stillness. Zeke paused, staring into the trees, his eyes narrowed in thought.

“The lab,” he said after a moment. “The place where the scientists were working on a cure. That’s where he’ll be. I’m sure of it.”

“Well, then,” Jackal said, with a very slow, evil smile that glinted with fangs, “if the psychopath is expecting us, we shouldn’t keep him waiting.”

Sarren, I thought, as the anger, the rage I thought I’d forgotten, surged up with a vengeance. Everything that led to this moment—Kanin’s torture, the New Covington plague, Zeke’s death and Turning—all pointed to the madman who waited at the end of the road. This is it; we finally made it to Eden. Looking at Zeke, Kanin and Jackal, my small, strange, indisputable family, I clenched my fists. I won’t let him win. One way or another, it ends tonight. We won’t get another shot.

Kanin turned to Zeke again. “This is your island, Ezekiel,” he said. “Your territory. I expect you know where to go.”

Zeke nodded. “This way,” he murmured, leading us up the bank. “There’s a road ahead that will take us to the city. We’ll have to go through Eden proper to get to the lab, but there’s a lot of open space between us and the city. We could be fighting rabids the whole way there.”

Let them come, I thought, following Zeke up the rise. We’re in Eden. We finally made it. Do you hear that, Sarren? I’m here. I’m coming for you.

Slipping into the trees, we found a narrow strip of pavement that snaked away into the darkness, and we headed deeper into Eden toward the madman at the end of the road.

It was quiet, far too quiet, on the small paved road that cut through the fields, passing distant houses that sat empty and dark at the edge of the lots. Past the beach where we’d come in, the trees thinned out, becoming large open pastures beneath undisturbed blankets of snow. The few homes I saw, though they were neat and tidy, not falling to ruin under years of neglect and decay, didn’t account for the large number of people at the checkpoint.

“I thought Eden was a city,” I whispered to Zeke,

“It is,” Zeke replied in an equally low voice. We hadn’t seen any pale, skeletal forms lurking in the shadows or distant buildings, but we knew they were out there, somewhere. “We’re on the outskirts of Eden proper right now. Most of the surrounding areas they use for farmland, as much as they can spare. The city itself is farther in.”

I gazed out over a snowy field, empty now due to winter, I guessed, and remembered my own days as a Fringer, starving and scavenging to survive. Even the registered citizens of New Covington were barely given enough supplies to live, unless you made it into the Inner City, of course. How did Eden provide enough food for her people? From what I’d seen at the checkpoint, there had to be a few thousand survivors.

“These aren’t the only farms,” Zeke explained when I finally asked him. “Only a small percentage of food comes from Eden itself. There are three smaller islands—we passed them on the way here—that are solely for growing crops and raising livestock. A handful of farmers and ranchers live there year-round and ferry supplies to Eden every couple weeks.” He gazed into the field, watching the wind swirl ice eddies through the pasture. “I was only here a few months,” he admitted, “but from what I learned, the people here take care of each other, so no one really goes hungry for long, even in the lean times.”

“Huh,” I remarked, wondering what that must be like: never going hungry. Never having to worry where your next scrap of food would come from, if you could scrape enough together to stay alive another day. And even more shocking, the people here helped each other, looked out for one another, instead of hoarding their supplies or scheming ways to get more from those who had them. I’d never experienced that. Everyone in my world, before Zeke anyway, looked out only for themselves. “Sounds like they have a pretty good life here.”

“They did,” Zeke muttered. “Until now.”

The road continued farther into Eden, and we soon left the fields and farms behind. Houses and buildings became more prominent, simple but sturdy homes that faintly resembled the rows and rows of urban dwellings in the abandoned cities. Only these were whole and unbroken, with well-tended yards, walls that weren’t crumbling, and roofs that hadn’t fallen in. The houses were packed together, people literally living on top of each other in two-and three-story dwellings. Still, it was a much nicer place than anywhere I’d seen before. It was crowded, sure, but it was better than the shoddy, ramshackle settlements I’d seen outside the vampire cities, buildings thrown together with whatever happened to be lying around. These homes had been carefully built and carefully maintained, like the real towns had been before the plague. Not a hastily constructed settlement that would vanish in a few years.

Though the utter silence and emptiness made it even more eerie. Like this place was supposed to be bustling, full of people and noise and life, and it wasn’t. The world outside had been abandoned for decades, and it showed in every collapsed building, every rusted-out car, weed-choked highway, or rooftop split with trees. Everything was dark, broken, empty of life, and had been for a long, long time.

But here, there were subtle hints of a life before. A blue bicycle, leaning against a fence post, old and faded but still in working condition. A car parked on the edge of the road, doors open, dried blood spattering the front seat. A doll lay in the middle of the sidewalk, as if it had been dropped and its owner had either left it there or been hurried away. A few buildings were still lit from the inside, spilling soft orange light through the windows.

“The power plant is still running,” Zeke said, glancing at a streetlamp that flickered erratically on the corner. “That’s a good thing, I suppose.”

I peeked through an open door creaking softly on its hinges and found a small, quaint living room, a stone fireplace in one corner and a green sofa in front of it. The sofa was the only thing in the room that wasn’t overturned or destroyed. Shattered plates littered the floor, chairs were knocked over and smashed, and ominous brown streaks covered one part of the wall. I took a quick breath and smelled what I feared: that hint of decay and wrongness, lingering on the air like an oily taint. They were definitely out there, lurking in the darkness. I wondered why we hadn’t run into any of them yet.

We hadn’t gone far into the city when we stumbled across the first rabid corpse.

It lay in the road, the snow falling around it, its white, emaciated body curled up like a huge spider. Its skull had been crushed, either by bullets or something heavy, and the snow beneath it was stained black. I curled a lip, Kanin ignored it, and Jackal gave it a smirk as he stepped over the broken body and continued down the road.

As we went farther into Eden, and the buildings to either side grew taller and more crowded, the number of bodies increased. Rabids lay in the road or on the sidewalk, riddled with holes or blown apart. The military forces had not gone quietly and were probably the reason so many made it out of Eden alive. There were no human corpses in the road, the fallen having been torn apart or eaten by rabids in short order. But the telltale signs of the massacre were still there. Bones lay scattered amid rabid corpses, the tattered, bloody remains of clothes still clinging to them. A body, more skeleton than flesh, lay half in, half out of a broken store window. I couldn’t tell if it was a man or woman because it was so savaged. The smell of blood, rabids and unrestrained gore was overpowering, and had I been human, it would have made me violently sick.

“Well, someone’s been having fun,” Jackal remarked as we edged around a pile of dead rabids, the street and walls riddled with gunfire. A large camouflaged vehicle lay on its side by the curb, windows smashed, blood streaked across the windshield. “This place is screwed even worse than New Covington. All we need now is a mob of bat-shit-crazy humans tearing their faces off.”

Faint scratching sounds interrupted him. A rabid lay beneath one of the huge tires, its lower half crushed by the vehicle, long arms clawing weakly at the pavement. It spotted us and hissed, baring a mouthful of jagged fangs, right before Jackal drove the heel of his boot into its skull. There was a sickening pop, and the rabid stopped moving. Jackal curled a lip and scraped his foot against the curb.

“You know what? Never mind. I can do without the bat-shit crazy. This place is screwed enough.”

Kanin ignored him, turning his attention to Zeke. “How much farther to the lab?”

“Not far,” Zeke confirmed. “The docks and the town square are about a mile that way,” he went on, nodding toward the west side of the island. “According to the mayor, that’s where the barge crashed and the rabids came pouring out, so I’m trying to avoid the main strip by taking us around. The lab is on the outskirts of the city, near the power plant and the old airport.”

“Then lead on.”

The road continued deeper into Eden, cutting through canyons of buildings and apartments, beneath bridges and walkways from the levels above. Streetlamps glowed dimly on corners, and lights shone above us from windows and doorways, casting weird shadows over the empty streets.

“Still no rabids?” Jackal mused, gazing into dark alleys and shadowy buildings. “I thought this hellhole was so infested they couldn’t throw a rock without hitting one. Where’s the crazy keeping them all?”

“I’m sure we’ll find out soon,” Zeke muttered. “I’m surprised we haven’t run into anything else. If Sarren knows we’re coming, I would’ve thought he’d set up at least a few—”

And at that moment, of course, my leg brushed against something: a hair-thin wire stretched across the road near the ground, almost invisible in the blackness. As soon as I felt it, I froze, but it was too late.

A bloodcurdling scream rang overhead, making me jump back with a snarl, unsheathing my blade. Zeke and Jackal drew their weapons, and we pressed back-to-back, gazing around for attackers. There was no body, human or rabid, on the balconies above, no movement in the shadows. But the scream continued, frantic and terrified, echoing through the street and over the rooftops, making me cringe.

“Where is it coming from?” I snapped, wishing I could see whoever was screeching just to shut them up. In the deathly stillness, the screams pierced the night like gunfire and probably echoed for miles. But I still couldn’t see anyone.

Kanin abruptly swooped down, snatched a loose brick from the sidewalk, and hurled it into the darkness. I saw the projectile flash through the air and hit something small on the corner of a roof. There was a crunch and then a garbled buzz. Pieces of wires and machinery fell into the road, fluttering like dead moths, as the scream sputtered into silence. Though the echoes still lingered, bouncing off the walls and ringing in my ears.

And now there was a new sound, rising over the rooftops, getting steadily closer. A skittering, hissing, scrabbling noise, the sound of many things closing in. Jackal bared his fangs in a silent snarl and hefted his ax.

“Well, ask a stupid question...”

“This way!” Kanin barked, turning down a side alley. “Before they’re all over us!”

A white skeletal figure dropped onto the road from an overhead balcony, eyes blazing, and lunged at me with a wail. I tensed, but Zeke’s machete flashed between us, and the rabid’s head hit my boots as it collapsed. “Allie, go!” he snapped as the roofs, walls and streets began to swarm with pale, spindly bodies. “I’m right behind you!”

We ran, following Kanin down the narrow, winding streets, ducking into alleys and through buildings, a screaming, hissing mob at our heels. Claws snatched at me from a side street, snagging the edge of my coat. I spun and lashed out at the same time, cutting both arms from the rabid’s body before sprinting on.

A rabid leaped atop a car hood, hissing. Jackal snarled and brought his weapon down with a vicious crunch, crushing metal and the rabid’s spine equally. “Starting to feel like a rat in a maze, here,” he said, glaring at the mob closing in around us. “If anyone has an idea beyond ‘run in circles and kill everything that fucks with us,’ I’d love to hear it.”

Zeke dodged a rabid that leaped at him, and swung his blade into another’s neck, severing it neatly. His backswing hammered into the first rabid as it lunged at him again, slamming it into a wall. “Where are we?” he growled, casting a quick look at a street sign on the corner. A rabid tried charging at him while he was distracted, but met a katana instead as I ripped my blade through its middle and cut it in half. “Centre Dyke and Sandpoint,” Zeke muttered, and took a step back. “Okay, I know where we can go. Everyone, follow me!”

He took off down another side street, the rest of us close behind, cutting down rabids that got too close or blocked our path. Zeke and Jackal led the way, the machete and fire ax working in tandem, slicing through bodies or bashing them aside. Kanin hung back with me and covered our escape, his thin, bright dagger lethally accurate as it flashed through the air.

The streets opened up, and right ahead of us, a small stone building sat within a wrought-iron fence at the end of a small grassy lot. As we fought our way toward the gate, headstones became visible through the neatly cut grass, crosses and angels rising into the air, and Jackal gave a snarl of disgust.

“Oh, sure! Of course it would be a damn church. What else was I expecting?”

Zeke, slicing his way through two more rabids that came at us, didn’t slow down. “If you’re worried about bursting into flames if you cross the threshold, feel free to stay outside,” he said without looking at Jackal, who snorted and rammed the hilt of his ax into a rabid’s face, flinging it back.

“Hey, not to rain on your little parade, but I think you’ve forgotten something.” He swung his weapon in a vicious arc, striking an attacker down with bone-crunching force before turning on Zeke. “ You’re a demon now, puppy, same as the rest of us. I wouldn’t be so smug—you’re just as likely to get the lightning bolt when you step through those doors.”

“Then I’ll know where I stand,” Zeke muttered, and hit the cemetery gates, pushing them back with a creak. The rabids followed us across the lawn, between headstones and angel statues, scrabbling over the graves to get to us. We fought our way up the steps of the small church, toward the heavy wooden doors at the top. With the church at our back, the monsters were forced into a bottleneck as they pressed up the stairs, making it easier to deal with them. But there were still a lot of the bastards, and they were stupidly persistent. While Kanin, Jackal and I blocked the stairs, Zeke turned to open the doors. They rattled when he tried the handle, but didn’t budge.

“Locked,” he growled. “Someone’s already sealed the way in.” He bashed his shoulder into the doors, putting his considerable vampire strength behind the blows. The heavy doors shuddered violently, but didn’t move. “Dammit! It’s blocked off. Something is on the other side. I can’t move it.”

The rabids shrieked and pressed forward, as if sensing blood and knowing we were trapped. Kanin stabbed one through the eye and drew back a step, sheathing his blade. “Hold them off,” he ordered, and whirled around, joining Zeke at the entrance. Jackal snarled a curse and slid toward me, closing the gap. The rabids hissed and clawed at us, surging forward, and we desperately fended them off.

“You know,” Jackal said, kicking a rabid in the face, sending it reeling, “it seems that whenever I’m with you, I’m constantly fighting my way into places I really don’t want to be. The sewers, the Prince’s tower, a bloody freaking church.” A rabid clawed at him from the side of the stairs, and he slammed its head into the railing. “If I ever need a favor, sister, I hope you’ll remember this shit. All these life-threatening situations? Not really my thing. I should’ve cleared out a long time ago.”

“Why didn’t you, then?” I snapped back, dodging a rabid’s claws to my face. “No one was stopping you. You could’ve left anytime, just like that time in New Covington. Or are you waiting until you find the cure to jump ship?”

He snarled, whirled around, and smashed the rabid leaping at me to the concrete. “You are so bloody frustrating!” he roared, back fisting another rabid with the axhead. “Do you really think the cure is worth this? You think I’d be here now if that’s all I wanted?” He turned and sliced his weapon through the air, beheading one rabid and sinking it into another. “Get your damn head out of your ass, sister!” he seethed. “And give me a little fucking credit. That’s not why I’m here.”

A hollow boom interrupted anything I was going to say. Kanin and Zeke both hit the doors at the same time, and the added strength of a Master vampire shattered whatever was on the other side. The doors flew open with a crash, the sound of rubble scattering across the floor.

“Go,” Jackal spat at me, and we swiftly backed toward the doors, where Zeke and Kanin stood just inside, ready to slam them shut. I crossed the threshold, and Jackal turned, flinging himself through the opening, his ax thudding against the floor as he rolled.

Screeching, the rabids surged forward. Zeke, Kanin and I slammed the doors, and the blows of the mob vibrated through the wood. But the wood was thick and reinforced with iron bands that could weather the relentless assault. Leaping forward, Jackal grabbed a snapped beam from the floor and shoved it between the handles, barring the doors shut. They rattled, shaking violently, but held.

Backing away, I looked around the room. Wooden pews filled the interior, some overturned or broken, but most intact. The windows were high and narrow, and had metal frames that once held stained glass, broken now, but too small for rabids to squeeze through. From the smell of death and the few rabid corpses littering the floor, it looked like people had tried to hole up here, just as we were doing, but hadn’t succeeded. Either someone inside had been bitten and Turned, or the rabids had gotten in another way. Dried blood streaked the walls, benches were in pieces, and bloody bones were scattered here and there. Several pews had been piled in the corner in what looked like a makeshift barricade, but in the end, it hadn’t helped.

“Well,” Jackal muttered, dusting off his hands, “here we are. In a church. Vampires taking refuge in a church—that’s gotta be the most ironic thing of the decade. Puppy, you’d better tell me this place has a back door.”

Zeke had started across the room but suddenly paused near the front, his gaze falling to an overturned pulpit. Bending down, he picked up a book from the wreckage, a small black book with a gold ribbon dangling between pages. The corner was soaked red, and he closed his eyes.

Behind us, the door boomed, making me jump. “That won’t hold them for long,” I said. My gaze fell on a pew lying a few feet away, and I started toward it. “Zeke, help me move this! We have to brace the door or they’ll break it down in a few minutes.”

Zeke blinked, then shook himself out of his trance. “No,” he said, stopping me. Gently placing the book on a pew, he turned, eyes hard. “We can’t hole up. There’s no time. This was just to give us an out, to slow them a bit. Follow me.”

He turned and jogged across the room, weaving around pews and rabid bodies, toward the makeshift barricade in the corner. Puzzled, I followed, Kanin close behind. Jackal snatched an oil lamp that had been lying, remarkably unbroken, on a pew, before trailing after us.

A massive blow echoed through the church, and the door bowed inward. Rabid faces peered through the crack, vicious and snarling, their claws and fangs starting to rip the wood to pieces. I hurried after Zeke, hoping he knew what he was talking about, that there was another way out of here.

Behind the barricade, Zeke ducked into a short hall and opened the door at the end, revealing a set of narrow, wooden steps, twisting up into darkness. “This way,” he urged, and disappeared through the door. I was right behind him, following the stairs as they spiraled upward through a stone tower and ended at a wooden ceiling with a trapdoor. Zeke pushed it back, and we scrambled into a tiny open-air room. Above us, a large brass bell sat silent and dark, and through the curved stone windows, I could see all of Eden spread out below.

“There’s the power plant,” Zeke said, pointing to a scattering of lights beyond the city. A set of massive smokestacks rose skyward, looming over the buildings and billowing white clouds into the air. “The lab is right next to the—”

A crash from below warned us that we were out of time. “Quickly,” Kanin said, taking command, and leaped from the tower into the branches of the single huge tree sitting beside the church.

“Go, Allie,” Zeke urged, and I went, getting a running start before flinging myself off the edge of the tower. For a second, I could see the church directly below my feet, and a huge horde of rabids surrounding it, swarming through the door. Then branches filled my vision, and I grabbed at the first one I saw, clinging desperately as it swayed and gave an ominous groan, but didn’t snap.

Pulling myself up, I looked back for the rest of our party. Zeke was at the edge, preparing to jump, but Jackal hadn’t moved from the open trapdoor. He still held the oil lamp he’d picked up earlier, and as I watched, he raised it over his head and flung it through the opening. There was a faint crash, and Zeke whirled at the noise.

“Jackal, what are you doing? Come on!”

A hiss, and a tiny flame appeared between Jackal’s fingers. For just a moment, it flickered over his sharp features and the evil grin spreading across his face, right before he dropped it through the hole. There was a sputter, and a bright orange glow flared to life through the trapdoor.

The shrieks and screams coming from within suddenly took on an alarmed note. I looked down to see several rabids shoot out the building, clawing frantically at the rest of the horde to get free, before skittering off into the darkness. Smiling, Jackal kicked the trapdoor shut and sauntered up to join Zeke, who was glaring at him with unmistakable menace.

“You didn’t have to do that.”

“Hey, it got the rabids off our backs, didn’t it?” Jackal’s grin was insufferably smug as he stepped to the edge of the tower. “I would think you’d be grateful, puppy. Kill some rabids, burn down a church—I don’t see a downside here, do you?” And he leaped to the branches before Zeke could respond. Zeke snarled at him, fangs bared, but he jumped off the roof as well, landing beside me on the narrow limb.

“Come,” Kanin murmured when we had all converged in the tree. Below us, the rabids had all but fled, slipping back into the ravaged city, while smoke trickled out of the bell tower and the first tiny flames began to flicker through the windows. “We’ll take the rooftops as far as we can,” Kanin went on, nodding to the edge of an apartment building beyond the fence. From here, it would be quite the jump, but we could make it. “Hopefully we can circumvent the rabids and any other surprises Sarren has left us by avoiding the streets. Let’s go.”

He turned and walked gracefully down the narrow branch, as easily as he would the sidewalk. Jackal pushed himself off the trunk and started to follow, but Zeke paused, casting one final glance at the doomed church, a flicker of sorrow and guilt crossing his face. I reached out, gently brushing his arm, and he turned back with a pained smile.

“Sorry.” He drew back, turning away from the church, though his face was still dark. “Just...memories. I spent a lot of time in that building after we came here, praying for guidance, asking where I should go next. It’s also one of the few places where I got to see Caleb and Bethany and the others. They’d attend Sunday morning service, and sometimes their parents would invite me home, just for the afternoon. All the other days, I’d be so busy at the lab, working with the scientists, I didn’t see much of them at all.” He sighed, glancing back once more, watching the flames flicker through the tower windows. “Lots of memories there. It’s hard to see it all burn.”

“It’s just a building, Zeke. It can be rebuilt.”

“Yeah.” Zeke nodded and turned away. “You’re right. It’s just a building.” His voice grew stronger, more determined. “Eden can be rebuilt. We can start over. We just have to make sure there is a new beginning to look forward to.”

We came to the end of the branch, Kanin’s and Jackal’s dark silhouettes waiting for us on the nearby roof. Zeke went first, leaping into the air, farther than any human could hope to accomplish, landing easily on the other side. I gathered myself and followed, my coat flapping behind me, feeling a momentary thrill as my body propelled itself through open space and hit the edge with room to spare.

Kanin took the lead again, and we moved quietly over the rooftops of Eden, heading toward the huge billowing smokestacks in the distance. I walked next to Zeke, watching him from the corner of my eye. His expression was grim and determined, but composed. Given the state of his home and all the horrors he’d seen and been through, I thought that was pretty remarkable. I hoped it wasn’t just a stoic front, a serene mask like the one Kanin wore all the time, and in reality he was about to fall apart. His city, his home, was in shambles, and everything he knew had been turned on its head. I knew what that was like, all too well.

Walking closer, I gently brushed his arm. “You okay?” I murmured.

He nodded once. “Trying not to think about it,” he said. “About...them. About everyone. Mostly Caleb and Bethany, and how they used to sit next to me in church and tell me everything their goats did that week. And...I just failed spectacularly, didn’t I?” He gave a humorless chuckle and hung his head, running his fingers through his hair. “They’re the last ones, Allie,” he said, his voice pained as he raised his head. “They can’t be gone.”

It was hard to think anything could still be alive out here. It was foolish to hope, and to offer hope, when reality was dark and cruel and didn’t care about human attachments, or emotions, or what was right. I had dared to hope before, and it had nearly killed me. It went against everything Allie the Fringer believed; nothing lasted in the world, and the only way to survive was not to care, about anything.

But Allie the Fringer was dead. And Allison the vampire had a family now. A strange, undead, sometimes infuriating family, but she was no longer alone. She had lost the human boy she loved, only to find him again, back from the dead. And, somehow, though he’d sworn that he would rather die than become a vampire, he was still here, walking right beside her.

So...maybe it was okay to hope, to trust that things could work out. Maybe...maybe that was what had kept me human all this time, that faith that I could be more than a monster. When I lost that hope—that was when the monster won.

I shook myself. Epiphanies aside, I could not let myself be distracted. And I couldn’t let Zeke be distracted, either. If there was hope for a future, for all of us, we had to stop Sarren, before he destroyed all hope, forever.

“They’re tough,” I told Zeke. “Those little kids followed you all the way to Eden, through rabids and wild animals and the psycho raider king himself. If they’re alive, we’ll find them.”

“But Sarren comes first,” Zeke finished, nodding gravely. “I know.” Meeting my gaze, he offered a grim smile. “Don’t worry about me, Allison. I have my priorities straight. I know what we have to do.” He paused, then added in a very soft voice, “But you have to be ready to do the same.”

I frowned at him, confused. “What are you talking about?”

“Hey, puppy.” Jackal’s voice echoed over the rooftops, interrupting us. He and Kanin stood at the edge of the roof, looking back at us. In the distance, wisps of smoke writhed into the air from a much closer power plant. Jackal’s eyes glowed yellow, and he crossed his arms with a smirk in Zeke’s direction. “When you’re done making goo-goo eyes at my sister, why don’t you step on over here and show us where we’re supposed to go?”

Zeke gave me an apologetic look and moved forward, joining Kanin and Jackal at the edge of the rooftops. I followed, peering down from our perch, curious as to what lay below. Several yards from where we stood, the crowded apartments ended, and a chain-link fence separated the buildings from a large, flat field. Across the open lot, surrounded by another fence, the power plant glimmered like a metal castle, wreathed in billowing smoke. Smaller buildings surrounded it, long and white, and Zeke pointed to one on the very corner, engulfed in the shadow of the plant.

“There,” he said, his voice grim. “That’s the laboratory.”

Where Sarren will be, I added to myself, feeling a chill crawl up my spine. Waiting for us. I swallowed as the realization hit hard: this was it. We were going in to face the terrifying, brilliantly insane vampire who wanted to destroy the world. No telling what we would find when we went in, but it would probably be awful, dangerous and as horrifying as Sarren’s twisted brain would allow. I hope you’re ready, Allie. The last time you went down into his lair, one of you didn’t come out.

Kanin, standing motionless at the edge of the roof, observed the lab with impassive black eyes and nodded once. “Let’s be careful,” he said quietly, echoing my thoughts. “Sarren knows we’re here and that we’re very close. He has had time to prepare for our arrival. When we go into the lab, it is likely that he will attempt to whittle us down first, either with traps or living creatures. We must be prepared to face whatever horrors he is sure to throw at us. Sarren himself is at his most dangerous face-to-face, and his mood can shift in the blink of an eye. Even after decades of knowing him, learning his patterns and how his mind works, I still could not tell you exactly what he will do in a fight.”

“Well, I can answer that,” Jackal said breezily, and bared his fangs in a lethal grin. “He can die. Painfully. After I rip his other arm from the socket and shove it so far down his poetry-spouting piehole that he chokes on it. What I don’t understand is why we’re standing up here yapping away when we should be down there kicking in his door. So, come on, team.” Jackal’s gaze was mocking but dangerous. “Let’s go kill ourselves a psychopath.”

The lab was quiet as we scaled the chain-link fence and made our way toward the long white building at the end of the lot. Nothing moved; no rabids roamed around the lab, at least not on the outside. The windows were empty and dark, but the closer we got to the building, the more convinced I became that Sarren was watching us. Kanin avoided the front doors, taking us around the back, though I didn’t know why we bothered with stealth. If Sarren knew we were here, we might as well kick down the doors and start killing anything in our way.

Instead, Kanin used his elbow to break a window, somehow managing to do it silently, and we slipped into the dark rooms of a madman’s lair.

Once inside, Kanin turned to Zeke.

“Where to now?” he asked softly, as I scanned the room warily. It was white and sterile, with long counters lined with many small things that glinted in the darkness. I shivered, remembering another lab, another set of precise, sharp instruments, winking at me from a pool of Zeke’s blood.

“I’m not sure,” Zeke whispered back, unaware of my sudden, gruesome recollections. “But if I had to guess, I would say the basement level. That’s where the scientists did a lot of their experiments. Where I stayed most of the time when I was here.”

My stomach turned, thinking of all the things they might have done to Zeke, but Kanin only nodded. “Then lead the way,” he said, nodding to the door. “And let’s be careful.”

We slipped into the lab, following Zeke down endless narrow hallways, through white sterile rooms filled with counters, computers and strange machinery. Nothing looked broken or out of place. There were no bodies, no blood, no hints that anything was out of the ordinary. Except for the emptiness and eerie stillness, you wouldn’t guess that anything was wrong.

And yet, the lab still made my skin crawl. It was too clean. Everything was overly white and gleaming and polished, smelling faintly of chemicals and disinfectant. Not only sterilized, but lifeless. My world—the world outside—was broken and falling apart, full of rust and rubble and decay. But, despite that, it was still alive. This place was almost offensively pristine and undamaged, too perfect to be real. It felt like a hospital, cold and antiseptic and dispassionate, as if terrible things had happened here but were quickly scrubbed away and forgotten.

Somehow, it was even more disturbing than if we’d opened that door to find blood-drenched walls and mutilated corpses. I expected that of Sarren. Carnage, not cold, polished rooms and silence. He was changing the rules on me, and I didn’t like it.

Apparently, I wasn’t the only one who thought so.

“Huh,” Jackal remarked, his voice echoing weirdly down the empty hall. “Well, that’s kind of disappointing. We come all this way to kill Sarren, and he can’t even be bothered to leave a few traps or bleeders wandering around? I’m almost offended.”

“Maybe he didn’t have time,” I mused hopefully. “Or maybe he’s not here after all.”

Kanin shook his head.

“No.” The Master vampire gazed around the silent lab, narrowing his eyes. “Do not be deceived by this tranquility. Whatever Sarren was planning here, he needed to ensure that he was not interrupted. That’s why he set the rabids loose on Eden. With all the chaos outside, he could work in peace, unchallenged and undisturbed. He has had plenty of time to prepare for our arrival. I expect we will discover what he has in store for us anytime now.”

“Let’s hope so, old man,” Jackal said, and casually knocked a case of vials to the floor, where they shattered on impact, scattering bits of glass across the tiles. I tensed, half expecting the room to erupt into chaos with the sudden noise, but everything remained as still as ever. Zeke shot him a look of annoyance, and Jackal grinned. “I didn’t get all dressed up for nothing.”

We came to the elevators and found they still worked, though both Kanin and Zeke were leery of going into a small, enclosed metal box with nowhere to escape to. It would be the perfect spot for a trap, an explosive, or another nasty surprise. It would be, Zeke pointed out, the spot where he would set up a trap for vampires; a mine on the underside of the box would be lethal in such a tight, cramped space. Or if they decided to climb down the shaft, one spark in a metal tube filled with hydrogen would produce a firestorm that would turn even a group of vampires to ash instantaneously.

That pretty much convinced us to take the stairs. Though we were still extremely cautious as we made our way down, remembering that the last time we’d been in a tight stairwell looking for Sarren, it had exploded. But nothing happened, no explosions, no traps, nothing. We came to a door, opened it easily, and stepped into a labyrinth of dark, empty hallways. The silence was deafening here, and Jackal turned to Zeke.

“Are you sure you have the right lab, puppy?”

Zeke nodded, leading us forward. “I’m sure.”

The door shut behind us with a hiss, plunging the corridors into absolute darkness. My vampire sight shifted to compensate, and we trailed Zeke through the long, narrow halls that crisscrossed each other and angled around corners, passing swinging doors and pitch-black rooms, until I was completely lost.

“Getting tired of this, puppy,” Jackal muttered as we turned down another hallway, identical to all the others. “Do the bloodbags here have some sort of complex, or do they like living like rats in a maze? Feels like we’re walking in circles.”

“I know where I’m going,” Zeke replied coolly.

“Good to know. Maybe there’ll be a piece of cheese waiting for you at the end.”

“Did you hear that?” I whispered into the stillness.

Everyone froze. Silence descended, throbbing in my ears. But just ahead, around the next corner, I heard the faintest swish of a door closing.

My skin prickled. Weapons out, we edged up to the corner, Kanin leading this time, and peered down the hall. A simple gray door sat at the end of the corridor, swinging slowly into place. We weren’t alone down here.

Kanin motioned us to stay put, glided silently to the door, and pushed it open to look through the crack. I gripped the hilt of my sword as he peered into the darkness, waiting for something to explode through the frame or yank him through the door. After a moment, Kanin glanced back and motioned us forward. Behind me, Jackal let out a sigh.

“Aw,” he said, walking forward. “That’s disappointing. I was so hoping something would jump out and go ‘boo.’ I’d sell my city to see the old man shriek like a little—”

Something slammed into Jackal with a scream.

Jackal hit the ground and instantly rolled, trying to get to his feet, as whatever had jumped him screamed again and tore savagely at his back. It was a rabid, blank-eyed and mindless, and the stench of rot, decay and blood suddenly filled the corridor. I yelled and brought my katana down, aiming for the spindly body, but the rabid dodged and leaped back with shocking speed, faster than I’d seen one move before. Raising its head, it bared jagged fangs and hissed at me, and my stomach twisted in horror.

It’s eyes were gone. The white, pupil-less orbs had been clawed to ragged holes, along with the rest of its face. Deep gouges, bloody and black, ran down its cheeks, jaw, forehead, and eyeholes, and its chest had been scratched to ribbons. It screamed and leaped at me, raking bloody talons at my face and neck, and I slashed at it almost desperately. The katana met a bony forearm and sheared it off at the elbow, but the rabid didn’t even flinch. Zeke lunged forward and swung his machete, sinking it deep into the monster’s neck, nearly severing it. The rabid whirled like a snake and darted forward, snapping and flailing, and Zeke had to scramble back to avoid the claws. One talon struck his face, laying his cheek open, and I roared.

Leaping at its back, I raised my weapon and brought it down with my all my strength, aiming for the rabid’s spine. The katana edge sliced through bone, flesh and muscle before striking the floor, and the rabid collapsed in a spatter of blood, severed from the waist down.

And still, it continued to fight, long arms dragging itself across the bloody floor, heedless that it was missing its lower half. Reaching for me, it gave one last, chilling scream, right before Jackal’s fire ax hammered into its skull, crushing it like a melon, and it finally stopped moving.

I shuddered and staggered away from the body, resisting the urge to bare my fangs and kick it away as hard as I could. Was this what Sarren was doing? Turning rabids into...whatever that was? But why? For what purpose, other than completely freaking me out?

“Well, that was...interesting.” Jackal’s tone didn’t quite match the look on his face, angry and terrifying. His fangs were bared, lips curled back in a silent snarl. Shouldering the fire ax, he composed himself and turned to glare at Kanin, who stood a few feet away. The Master vampire had probably come as soon as the rabid hit, but everything had happened so fast, the rabid was dead before he could join us. “Thanks for the help, old man,” he sneered. “Next time, I think I’ll be the one to investigate strange doorways while you stay back here with the runts.” He rubbed at his neck, wincing, and I saw a smear of blood on his fingers as he lowered them.

“You’re bleeding,” I said, suddenly alarmed, though I didn’t know why. “Did that thing bite you?”

“Aw, sister, are you worried about me?” Jackal wiped the blood on his duster. “Your concern is touching, but this isn’t my first rabid bite. I’ll be fine, trust me.”

“But...something was wrong with it!” I remembered the bleeders of New Covington, ripping out their eyes as they attacked. I remembered the vampires infected with their blood, rotting away from the inside. If it was the same with the rabids... “What if it was sick?” I told Jackal. “What if you’re—”

“What would you do, anyway?” Jackal challenged, sounding impatient. “Got a cure up your sleeve? Or are we wasting time talking about this?” I blinked at him, and he waved his hand. “It’s done, sister. You wanna help me? Find Sarren and hold him down so I can rip his heart out through his teeth. Let’s keep moving.”

I looked at Zeke, wondering if he had any ideas, but shrieks rang out behind us, and two more rabids skittered past the end of the hall, vanishing around a corner. My stomach churned. There were more of them out there, in the hallways with us. And, vampire or no, I did not want to face those things again. Fighting rabids was one thing; fighting rabids that clawed themselves to bloody strips, moved insanely fast, and didn’t die unless you literally hacked them to pieces was something else altogether.

“Zeke,” I hissed. “Get us out of here now.”

He nodded, and we slipped quietly into another hallway, moving fast, as the shrieks and hisses of Sarren’s rabids began to echo all around us.

We managed to avoid running into any of the monsters as Zeke led us to a pair of doors at the end of the hall. Moving swiftly to the frame, he tried pushing back the doors, but they didn’t budge. Zeke frowned.

“Locked,” he muttered, and narrowed his eyes. “This is it. There’s no other exit from this room.” His face grew dark, and he stepped back. “Sarren is here. He has to be.”

Moving him aside, Kanin put his shoulder to the wood, slammed into it a couple times, and the doors flew open. We started forward, but Zeke suddenly grabbed my hand, making me look back. His expression was hard, intense, as his gaze met mine.

“Remember, Allie,” he whispered, squeezing my fingers. “Whatever it takes, you have to stop him. Even if that means going through me.”

Apprehension flared, and defiance, but Zeke let me go and turned away before I could answer, following Kanin and Jackal through the doors. Raising my weapon, vowing it would not come to that, I stepped into the darkness.

Cautiously, we eased into the shadowy room, weapons out. The room beyond was similar to the ones we’d seen: tile floors, long counters, strange instruments. Everything looked as coldly pristine as before.

But Sarren had definitely been here. The place reeked of blood, though there were no traces of it or the insane vampire anywhere in the room. The Hunger stirred, and I shoved it back impatiently. I had to stay focused. If Sarren was close, I had to be ready for whatever he had planned.

Kanin looked to Jackal and waved at him to follow. He went deeper into the room, heading to the left. Zeke nodded to me, then tilted his head to the right side of the door. We stalked along the walls, scanning the darkness, looking for any signs of Sarren or whatever horrors he might have left in his wake.

A stainless-steel door, polished until it gave a warped reflection of reality in the dim light, dominated the end of the room. It had a simple pull-lever latch, like a meat locker or one of the vampire Princes’ blood storage facilities. There was a place for a padlock on the latch, but instead of a lock, a screwdriver had been shoved into the openings and bent into a crude C shape.

I looked at Zeke, and he looked back. We didn’t need to speak. Someone had wanted this door to stay closed. That someone could only have been Sarren. He slipped his pistol from its holster and raised it, taking a bead on the door. I hefted my katana in my right hand, and reached out with my left. With a silent snarl, I wrapped my fingers around the handle of the screwdriver and pulled. With a tortured squeal of metal, the shaft straightened, tearing free from the locking mechanism. My fingers closed around the latch.

I opened the door, and a body tumbled out of the refrigerator, landing at my feet with a gasp of pain.

Chapter 17

“Dr. Richardson!” Zeke exclaimed, hurrying forward. I backed up as Zeke pulled the human away from the fridge, sitting him against the counter. He was an older human, with hair as white as his lab coat and sharp black eyes. His skin was pale, his lips blue as he gasped and coughed, sucking in deep, shuddering breaths. Zeke knelt beside him, waiting patiently until the fit had passed, and the human looked up at him in surprise.

“Mr....Crosse?” the man wheezed, staring at Zeke as if he couldn’t quite believe it. Zeke gave a faint smile, and the human shook his head. “You’re back. When...did you get here?”

“A couple days ago,” Zeke answered and leaned forward. “I came as soon as I could. Dr. Richardson, what happened here? Where is Sarren?”

“Sarren?”

“The vampire,” I supplied. “Tall, bald, scarred-up face?” Wants to unleash a supervirus to destroy the world?

“Sarren.” The scientist’s face, though pale, drained of its remaining color. “So that’s the demon’s name.” His eyes glazed over, unseeing, as he stared at the wall. For a moment, I thought he might faint. “God help us all.”

“He was here, then,” Zeke prodded, and the human nodded, still in a daze. “Where is he now?” The man didn’t reply, and Zeke leaned forward even more, his voice calm but firm. “Doctor, there’s no time. Please, tell us what you know.”

“He never told us,” the scientist whispered. Abruptly, he turned and grabbed Zeke’s arm, his expression pleading, almost wild. “He never told us anything,” he insisted, “except what he wanted us to do. When we finally realized what was happening, what we were helping him create...” The man shuddered so violently the back of his head hit the counter, but he didn’t seem to notice. Zeke gently pried the hand off his arm, his gaze intent.

“What was he creating?”

“We tried to stop him,” Richardson said, still staring at nothing. “We tried to resist, to get him to see reason, but he was insane, raving mad. He...he started killing people, civilians, that he took from the city. Said he would torture and kill someone every hour, and make us watch, unless we agreed to help.” Dr. Richardson covered his face with his hands. “What could we do?” he moaned. “There were children in the group.”

Zeke went motionless, his eyes and expression dark. I knew what he was thinking, and hoped, desperately, that it was not the case.

“Dr. Richardson,” Kanin said, his voice low and deliberate, “you have been through much, but we need to know. What, exactly, were you helping with? What was Sarren creating?”

“Requiem.”

The word was a whisper, barely audible. But it sent a cold lance through my insides, freezing everything around me. I remembered. I could see Sarren, looming before me with bright, mad eyes, his voice a slow croon. The requiem has started, and when the last melody plays, the only applause will be sweet, eternal silence. Dr. Richardson’s voice echoed dully, seeming to come from far away. “He called it...Requiem.”

For a moment, there was quiet. Then Kanin’s voice came again, low and calm, as the Master vampire stepped forward. “And what is Requiem?”

Dr. Richardson slumped against the counter, rubbing his eyes. Dropping his hands, he took a deep breath, as if steeling himself for a confession.

“It’s a virus,” the scientist said, confirming what we all knew. “A mutated strain of the original Red Lung virus.” He seemed to regain his composure; his expression became less wild and staring, though his voice remained grave. “I’d never seen it before, but somehow, this version has mutated so that it affects both live and dead cells. So, not only is it fatal to humans...”

“It affects vampires, as well,” Kanin finished, and the scientist nodded wearily. “Was anything changed? Did Sarren mutate it further?”

Dr. Richardson wiped his brow, then continued in an overly clinical voice. “There are a lot of technical terms and scientific jargon, but I’ll try to explain this as simply as I can,” he said, glancing at me, as if I wouldn’t understand if he used a lot of big words. I bristled, but kept silent as he continued.

“The mutated strain the vampire brought in could be transmitted via airborne pathogens,” Dr. Thomas began, “much like the original Red Lung virus, or the common cold. That’s how Red Lung spread so quickly sixty years ago. But the mutated virus could not be transmitted from a live host to an undead one except through internal consumption of the host’s blood.”

“Meaning, the vampire would have to bite the infected human to get sick,” I said.

“Yes,” Dr. Richardson agreed, looking impressed that I was following along. “Vampires can’t catch a cold—they don’t breathe or cough or share toothbrushes. And the fact that they are, technically, dead makes it impossible for diseases to incubate. A virus needs living cells to survive. But Sarren changed that. First with the mutated Red Lung virus, and then with Requiem.”

“What did he do?” I asked when the human paused. Dr. Richardson swallowed hard.

“You know that the mutated virus already attacks vampires.” He gazed around at all of us, his expression grave. And I realized that he knew what we were. Maybe not Zeke, but he had definitely guessed that the three dark strangers looming over him were vampires. “Well, Sarren took it a step further. I don’t know what he was thinking, but the madman infected the rabids.”

“Yeah, we kinda figured that out,” Jackal broke in impatiently. And, though his words were mocking, his voice was tight, as if he was in pain. Alarm flickered through me as he put a hand to his neck, wincing. “On account of the damned things running around in the halls. You’re not telling us anything useful, bloodbag.”

The human’s eyes widened. “They’re out there?” he breathed, sounding horrified. He scrambled to his feet, and Zeke grabbed his arm to help him up. “Were you bitten?” the human asked, staring around at all of us. “Were any of you bitten?”

Jackal’s gaze narrowed, and he went very still. “Why?”

The man stumbled away from us, one hand to his mouth, the whites of his eyes showing above his fingers. “You have to leave,” he said, still backing up frantically. “Now. You must go, you can’t be here—” He hit the wall, then trailed off, dropping his arm from his face. “Oh, what does it matter?” he whispered, sinking to the floor. “We’re dead. Everyone is dead. There’s no stopping it now.”

Jackal stalked up, grabbed the man by the collar and dragged him to his feet. “I don’t feel particularly patient right now, doctor bloodbag,” he growled, baring his fangs as the rest of us started forward. “Wanna tell me exactly what you mean by that?”

The human stared at Jackal wearily, seemingly unconcerned with the fangs inches from his face. Brazenly, he reached out and grabbed the vampire’s shirt collar, pulling it away from his neck.

My stomach twisted as Jackal’s pale skin was bared to the light. The puncture wounds at his throat had darkened, the flesh around them turning a familiar, decaying black. Black veins were crawling up his neck from where the rabid had bitten him, spreading across his jaw like inky spiderwebs.

“You’re infected, vampire,” Richardson stated in a flat voice, and looked past him at the rest of us. “That’s what Sarren changed. Requiem can be spread between undead creatures and living beings alike. If an infected rabid bites you, you get the virus. If you feed from an infected human, you get the virus. If an infected vampire feeds from a human, that human contracts Requiem, which can then be spread to other humans via airborne pathogens, just like the common cold.” The scientist gave a short, slightly crazy laugh. “Oh, and the most interesting fact? The virus spreads between rabids and humans in the same way. So, if one rabid contracts Requiem...”

“They all do,” I whispered.

I felt dazed, the ground unsteady beneath my feet. So, this was how Sarren was going to end the world. With a virus so devastating, nothing would be alive when it was done. If Requiem got off the island, if Sarren unleashed it on the outside world, it was over. For everyone, vampires, rabids, and humans alike. No one would survive that plague. Eventually, we would all be dead.

Jackal gave a vicious, almost desperate growl and shook the human in his grasp. “What about a cure?” he snarled. “There has to be a cure. You meatsacks worked on this virus right beside Sarren. You have to have made something to counter it.”

“There is no cure,” Dr. Richardson whispered, shaking his head. “No cure. We tried. When Sarren wasn’t looking, we tried to develop something to counter it. But we didn’t have enough time.”

“What about him?” Jackal demanded, jerking his head at Zeke. “He survived Sarren’s first plague. Whatever you gave the little bloodbag seemed to have worked.”

“It’s different now,” the human said. “The virus is different, much stronger. If we had more time...” He closed his eyes. “But it’s over. Sarren destroyed the experimental cure and all the research we had accumulated—everything we’d learned up until now is gone. We were so close,” he choked out. “So close to finding a cure. The vaccines we gave Mr. Crosse were almost successful. If we only had vampire blood...that was the only thing we were missing. But it’s too late.”

“Are you blind, meatsack?” Jackal said, still baring his fangs. “You have four vampires standing right here.”

“There’s no time!” Dr. Richardson burst out. “The research is gone! Everything we learned, wiped clean. Sarren left a few minutes before you showed up, with the virus! And once Requiem hits the world, it’ll be over. It’s done, vampire. This is the end.”

Jackal snarled and hurled the human away. He flew across the room, struck the computer desk on the far wall, and slumped to the floor, moaning.

The monitor on the desk suddenly flicked on. As Zeke hurried over to help the scientist, I stared at the computer and the image that appeared on the screen. For a second, I watched it move, puzzled at what it could mean. When I figured it out, my blood ran cold.

“Kanin,” I whispered as the Master vampire turned, his gaze narrowing. The screen was dark, except for a set of tiny red numbers in the very middle, counting down.

2:46.

2:45.

2:44.

“Huh,” Jackal muttered as the whole room realized what was happening all at once. “That clever sonofabitch.”

Kanin spun on all of us. “Everyone, move!” he roared, and we scrambled to obey. Zeke paused to drag Dr. Richardson to his feet, looping an arm over his neck, but Kanin swept up, plucked the human from Zeke’s grasp, and tossed the semi-conscious man over one shoulder as easily as a grain sack.

“Go,” he ordered, and Zeke went, joining me as I waited impatiently for them both at the door. Together, we fled, following Jackal out of the room and into the maze of hallways, before Zeke took the lead. I hoped we would not run into rabids while fleeing for our lives, but apparently that was too much to ask.

A rabid appeared at the end of the hall, its face a mess of blood and gaping wounds, one eye clawed from its socket. Seeing us, it gave a shriek that echoed off the walls and sprang forward, jagged, infected teeth going for my throat.

I didn’t slow down. Drawing my katana, I met the rabid head-on, slashing through its bony chest even as we collided and it sank curved talons into my shoulder. It clung to me, ripping and clawing even though its lower half was gone. Snarling, I threw it off and kept running. More rabids blocked our passage, and we cut our way through, ignoring the claws that ripped at us, dodging the teeth snapping at our necks. A rabid sank its fangs into my sleeve, barely missing my skin, and I tore it free impatiently, pausing only to slice the thing’s legs out from under it. Infections and viruses be damned; if I was bitten I’d worry about that once I got out of here.

Bursting through the lower level doors, we fled up the stairs, the screams of rabids echoing behind us. We didn’t look back or slow down. The entrance loomed at the end of the foyer, thick metal doors that were probably locked or sealed shut. Jackal and Zeke hit them at the same time, driving their shoulders into them, and the doors flew open with a bang. We leaped the steps and tore across the empty lot...

...and a tremendous boom erupted from the lab behind us, the shock wave slamming into my back, knocking me off my feet. An intense wave of heat followed, and bits of glass, rubble and flaming wood showered me as I rolled, trying to keep my head covered. Finally, I pushed myself to my knees, avoiding the glass and bits of fiery debris scattered around me, and looked back at the building.

Not surprisingly, it was demolished. The roof was gone, the windows blown out, and the remaining walls were blackened to a crisp. Flames roared through the windows, sending black smoke into the sky, as the last hope for a cure burned with the laboratory.

Wincing, I looked around for the others. A few yards away, Zeke lay on his stomach, and Jackal was struggling upright. Kanin, already on his feet, walked over to examine the body of Dr. Richardson, lying on his back on the pavement.

Wincing, I crawled over to Zeke, praying he wasn’t badly hurt, but he groaned and pushed himself to a sitting position, staring bleakly at the burning lab.

“Zeke.” I put a hand on his shoulder, peering at him carefully, searching for wounds. “Are you hurt? Were you bitten?”

“No.” He shook his head numbly. The firelight danced in his eyes, casting flickering shadows over his face as he gazed at the inferno. “That’s it, then,” he whispered. “The research is gone. There’s no hope for a cure. No hope for anything now.”

No. A growl rumbled in my throat, and I grabbed his arm, dragging us both to our feet. Anger and determination burned hotly in my stomach as I turned him to face me. “Sarren is not going to win,” I said, making Zeke blink. “I am not giving our forever to that sick bastard. This isn’t over yet.”

A groan echoed nearby, as Dr. Richardson shifted and struggled to a sitting position, Kanin looming over him. He tried to get up, but gasped and grabbed his left arm, cradling it to his stomach. The elbow was soaked with blood, and something sharp poked out from beneath his lab coat.

“Broken,” he gritted out, clenching his jaw in pain. “I don’t think I’ll be going anywhere with you, vampires.” He looked past Kanin, to the burning lab, and grimaced. “Though I do thank you for not leaving me to that.”

“Dr. Richardson,” I said, sweeping up to him. “You said that Sarren left not long before we arrived. Do you know where he went? Where he is now?”

The human nodded. “He’s going to spread that virus,” Richardson murmured darkly, his expression taut with pain. “But he needs to get off the island first. So, there’s really only one place he could go.”

“The docks,” Zeke said, his voice suddenly hard. “He’ll be at the docks. If we catch him there, we can still stop this.”

I blinked. The lab was gone, the research destroyed, and the cure was lost. A second ago, he’d seemed ready to give up. I’d thought I would have to convince him to keep going. But he didn’t look defeated or horrified anymore. He looked like a pissed-off vampire. His fangs were out, and his eyes gleamed with anger and determination as he backed away, beckoning to us all. “We’re not far,” he said. “I know the fastest way.” He paused, giving the human a solemn look, as if realizing we couldn’t take him with us. “Dr. Richardson...?”

“Go,” the scientist whispered, waving us on with his good hand. “Don’t worry about me. Stop Sarren. Stop Requiem. Nothing else matters.”

Zeke nodded once, and we went.

The streets were chillingly empty of rabids as we fled back the way we came, following Zeke down the narrow, twisty roads of Eden. I wondered where they all were, until I took a quick breath, searching for hints of rot and decay on the wind, and caught a trace of fresh blood in the air. No wonder the streets were empty. Wherever that smell was coming from, that was where we’d find the rabids.

Zeke turned a corner, and the rows of buildings suddenly ended, coming to a stop at the edge of a road. Across the street, I could see a parking lot surrounded by a chain-link fence, and beyond that, a long cement pier stretching out over Lake Erie.

It was empty.

We hurried on to the dock, leaping the fence, and ran to the end of the pier, frantically gazing around. Several boats bobbed on the surface of the water, simple rowboats, probably used for fishing and now forgotten in the chaos. But Sarren wasn’t in any of them.

Then Kanin gave a weary sigh and pointed out over the lake. “There.”

We followed his gaze. Far away, over the vastness of Lake Erie, I could just see the hull of a massive ship, vanishing into the darkness. Even from this distance, it was huge, one of those enormous barges like the one outside Old Chicago that held all the raiders’ bikes and vehicles. I glared at the ship, frustration and helpless despair threatening to crush me. We were too late. Sarren had been right here, and we’d let him get away.

“Shit.” Jackal’s voice was tense. He kept one hand at his neck, his voice tight with pain. “Looks like our ship just sailed.” He grimaced and leaned against a post, looking exhausted as he stared after the vanishing ship. “Though why the psychopath would use a slow-ass barge to get off the island is beyond me. Unless...”

He trailed off, as the realization hit us all at the same time. Behind us, Eden lay empty and abandoned...because Sarren had loaded a huge barge full of rabids and sailed it right into the heart of the city. And now...

“Oh, God,” I whispered. “The checkpoint. That’s how he plans to spread Requiem. He’s taking the infected rabids back, to turn them loose on the refugees. Once that barge hits the checkpoint...”

It would be over. Requiem would be loosed on the world. The rabids would slaughter the refugees and then spread out, carrying the virus to every rabid and human they came across. It would be the end of everything, just like Sarren said.

“No,” Zeke growled, heading back the way we’d come. “It’s not too late. We can still catch up. Follow me!”

He led us down the pier to another set of docks, where several smaller boats bobbed in the water, small, sleek crafts with engines instead of paddles, built for speed. Steel drums stood at the edge of each pier; fuel for the boats, I guessed. But instead of heading toward the docks, Zeke jogged up to a tiny building at the edge of the pier, almost a shack. It had a simple wooden door on the side and a window with a counter at the front, and I had no idea what it was for.

“Zeke, what—”

Ignoring the window, Zeke walked up to the door of the small hut and kicked it open, flinging it back with a crash. “The boats on Eden are communal property,” he stated as we ducked inside. Jackal and Kanin hovered in the frame, as the room was barely big enough for two people. Fishing poles, spears, nets and other supplies leaned against the walls or on shelves, and a single stool sat before the window. “Anyone can use them,” Zeke continued, “as long as they bring them back. This is where they record which boats are gone and when they’re returned.”

A panel hung beside the counter with several keys dangling from hooks in the board. Snatching one, Zeke checked the tag that hung below it and nodded before turning around. “All right, let’s go.”

A shrieking sound interrupted him and made my blood freeze. From a nearby warehouse, rabids emerged, a pale swarm against the darkness. I drew in a breath, and the scent of blood hit me like a slap in the face, coming from the long metal building. Sarren had been one step ahead of us, again.

The rabids screamed and turned toward us, and my skin crawled. It was the same pack from earlier that night, except for one thing. Several of them had fresh gouges down their arms and faces, and many were ripping at their skin even as they came forward, moving like jerky puppets.

“Shit, they’re infected,” Jackal snarled, and shot a hard glare at Zeke. “Come on, puppy, let’s move!”

We ran across the pavement, the mob of screaming, infected rabids at our heels. Swerving onto a wooden dock, we followed Zeke over the water to the very end of the pier, to where a small, faded white boat sat bobbing on the waves. Leaping onto the boat, Zeke hurried to the front, jamming the key into the ignition, while the rest of us huddled at the edge of the planks and watched the rabids swarm closer.

“Come on,” Zeke muttered behind us as the boat engine gave a raspy cough and died away. “Come on, turn over.” He wrenched the key again; the engine gurgled, sputtered and faded out again. “Dammit.”

“Get out of the way.” Jackal stepped onto the boat, shoving him aside. “I’m guessing you know as much about boats as you do bike engines.” He crouched down, his face intense. “Just keep the crazies off my back for a few seconds.”

A scream at the other end of the docks made me jerk up. The rabids leaped onto the pier, screeching and hissing, tearing at themselves. I drew my katana, roared a challenge, and stepped forward to meet them.

The first rabid leaped at me, swiping at my face with terrible speed. I jerked back and cut the head from its body, knowing that was the only way to make it stop. Another sprang over the first one’s corpse and lunged at my throat, but Kanin was suddenly there, stabbing his thin blade through the creature’s temple, kicking it off the platform.

“Jackal!” I snarled, desperately fending off a rabid reaching for my face. It hissed and scrambled over my blade, heedless of the edge cutting through its chest. “Not to rush you, but if we don’t get out of here soon it won’t matter if Sarren gets away or not, because we’ll be dead. Hurry up!”

A shot rang out from Zeke’s pistol. I heard it strike the barrels on the corner of the docks, clanging off the metal. I glanced back, and saw him standing at the back of the boat, arm raised toward the end of the docks. He fired again, puncturing the drum, and a stream of clear liquid began to stream from the center.

A searing pain erupted from my neck, making me gasp. In that split second of distraction, a rabid had gotten through my defenses and sunk its fangs into my throat. With a desperate hiss, I slid the katana between us and shoved hard, cutting off its head. The monster fell away, releasing my neck, but I stumbled in pain, seeing the rest of the horde closing in. Zeke shouted something, maybe about getting back, but the agony and screaming rabids made it hard to hear what he was saying.

Another monster sprang forward, lashing with its claws, but Kanin spun, knocking it away, and grabbed me around the middle. As he pulled me back toward the boat, I looked up at Zeke, still at the back of the boat, and saw him raise his arm. A strange, bright orange gun was clutched in his hand, and he fired a single shot at the pier.

The shot flared a brilliant orange-red in the darkness, hissing and sparking, trailing a stream of fire as it streaked through the air and struck the barrel he’d shot at earlier. There was a flash, and a massive fireball erupted into the night, sending rabids flying into the water. I felt the blast of heat from where I stood with Kanin, and turned away, shielding my eyes.

When I looked back, the end of the pier blazed with tongues of fire, licking at the posts and snapping hungrily over the wood. My vampire instincts cringed back, urging me to get as far from the flames as I could, that even this distance was too close. Beyond the roar of the inferno, I could hear the rabids screaming.

“There,” Zeke growled as he stepped back, the flare gun dropping from his hands. “That should hold them off long enough to—”

And the rabids came right through the flames.

I jerked, barely getting my katana up in time as the entire swarm, not just one or two, sprang through the fire like it wasn’t there and rushed the docks again. I slashed wildly at the first rabid who lunged at me, its back and arms wreathed in flames, and my vampire instincts shrieked in utter terror.

“Jackal!” I shouted as Kanin kicked a burning rabid into the water, spun, and smoothly beheaded another. From the corner of my eye, I saw Zeke leap from the back of the boat, sail over the water, and slam his machete into a rabid as he landed beside me. “You can get that boat started anytime now!”

“Not if you keep bitching at me!” came the terse reply from the boat helm. The rabids screamed and pressed forward, crowding the pier, claws and teeth raking me from all sides. I caught flashes of Kanin and Zeke beside me, fending off the rabids that surrounded us, but in a few seconds we’d be overwhelmed.

“Got it!” The boat gurgled, roared and died away just as quickly, killing my sudden surge of hope. “Well, damn. False alarm! What the hell do these bloodbags use for fuel, their own piss?”

“Jackal!”

No reply, but a second later the engine sputtered, coughed and finally roared to life in a plume of white smoke. “All right!” Jackal called as we started edging back from the relentless press of rabids. “The last ship from bat-shit crazytown is sailing, so cut the ropes and let’s get the hell out of Dodge.”

Kanin threw a rabid off the platform, turned and slashed through the rope tying it to the dock. The engine gurgled, and the boat began to pull away, moving down the pier and out into the water. We fought our way to the very end of the dock, Lake Erie at our backs and a murderous swarm of monsters still coming forward, while the boat pulled even farther away. We needed to jump, but the rabids would pull us down as soon as our backs were turned.

“Jackal!” I yelled, cutting a monster’s head from its neck a second before its teeth would’ve found my skin. “If you leave us, I swear to God whatever is left of me will hunt you down and strangle you in your sleep!”

A laugh rang out behind me, and from the corner of my eye Jackal appeared at the side of the boat, which continued to drift over the lake. Something small and orange flashed in his hand as he raised his arm.

“Oh, sister. You really have no faith in me at all, do you? Duck.”

The flare exploded from Jackal’s hand, streaking past me as I cringed, and tore into the mob of rabids in a flash of heat and light. “Jump!” Kanin ordered over the screams, the rabids flailing back in blind confusion, and I did. Turning, I hurled myself over the water, hitting the boat railing and grabbing it with one hand, clinging desperately to my katana with the other.

Fingers clamped around my wrist, and someone dragged me over the edge and into the boat, setting me upright. Jackal smirked and dropped my arm as Kanin landed gracefully on deck and Zeke pulled himself up the side of the railing.

I looked up at Jackal and winced. This close, I could see the black circles under his eyes, the skin that was paler than normal. The ominous black veins had spread, crawling over his throat, and his golden eyes were bright with pain even through the ever-present smirk. My stomach twisted. The infection was spreading fast. At this rate, Jackal might not last the night.

“Don’t look at me like that, sister.” Jackal gave me a sneer and stepped back. “You forget—I always come out on top, no matter the circumstances. So, don’t worry your pretty little head. I’ll survive. I always find a way.” His eyes narrowed, flicking to the blood staining my neck. “You, however, might need to get to Sarren quickly. Mocking the puppy just won’t be the same without you around.”

A rabid exploded from the water before I could answer, latching on to the rails and baring its fangs in a scream. “Oh, for the love of fuck!” Jackal snarled, whirling and smashing a coil of rope across its face, sending it crashing back. “The bastards don’t give up, do they?”

More rabids clawed themselves onto the deck, dripping wet and snarling. It seemed their fear of deep water had vanished along with their aversion to fire. “Get us out of here!” I snapped, and leaped to help Zeke and Kanin kick rabids off the boat. A pale face heaved itself over the railing, hissing at me, and I split it in two before moving on.

As Kanin, Zeke and I darted from one side to the other, repelling our inhuman boarders, the boat jerked forward, picking up speed. As the docks receded, the rabids fell away, and I watched Eden grow smaller and smaller until it was swallowed by the darkness. Jackal turned the boat toward the southwest, and we sped off through the waves, the wind and spray whipping at our faces, praying we’d catch our target in time.

The race to stop the End of the World had begun.

Chapter 18

“There’s the barge!” Zeke called, peering over the front of the boat. I joined him at the railing, watching the massive rectangular ship get closer and closer, looming to an impossible height against the sky.

“It’s huge,” I whispered as Kanin stepped up beside me, silently assessing the enormous task before us. “How are we going to stop it?”

“We can’t stop it,” Kanin said, his eyes narrowing as he surveyed the vessel and its inexorable push toward the land.

My stomach lurched. Were we too late, then? Had we come this far, fought all this way, only to lose?

“We don’t have to stop it,” Kanin said. There was a flatness in his voice, a finality. “We need to turn it around. If we can get to the helm, we should have enough room left to bring the barge around and head it back to Eden. If we can ground it on the island, we should be able to contain things.” He paused, and I saw something in his eyes that I couldn’t quite define. Sadness? Resolve? “We can deal with the rabids then, but the most important thing is not to let them escape to the mainland.”

I nodded, and Zeke glanced at the raider king, standing at the helm. “Get us close,” he called, and the boat surged forward, bouncing through the waves left in the barge’s wake.

As we closed the distance, the shadow of the huge barge looming over us, a tall, pale figure suddenly appeared, leaning over the railings. My lips curled back from my fangs, and I felt Zeke stiffen beside me.

Sarren, the scarred, brilliant, crazy psychopath himself, walked calmly along the top deck, smiled and waved to us.

I snarled, hatred, fury and determination flaring up at the sight of the deranged vampire. There’d be no easy way around. Sarren was waiting for us, and we’d have to deal with him before trying to stop the ship from plowing its way into the checkpoint.

Then Sarren raised his hand and pointed a long, bony finger into the air, at something along the side of the ship. I flicked a glance at where he was pointing, and gripped the railing hard enough to feel it bend beneath my fingers.

A metal pole hung over the edge of the barge, away from the side of the ship. A net swung from that pole, dangling over the foaming water. Inside, two small, terrified faces peered out at me, and my stomach dropped.

“Caleb!” Zeke surged forward, looking like he might jump the railing, his horrified gaze on the net swinging precariously over open water. “Bethany! Hang on! I’ll be right there!”

A faint scream came from the kid’s direction, Caleb’s high-pitched voice crying out for Zeke. I could see both children now, tied back-to-back with heavy chain, their faces streaked with tears. Eight-year-old Bethany, golden-haired, fragile and shy, but who had still survived the entire nightmare-filled journey to Eden. And Caleb, six years old, resilient beyond his age, and the only person in the entire group who had never been afraid of me because I was a vampire.

Horrified, I looked back at Sarren, and he gave me a wide, evil smile, fingering a rope that had been tied to the railing. The rope stretched back toward the barge, pulled taut up the side of the ship and toward the metal pole. Everything inside me went cold.

Don’t, I thought desperately. For Zeke, for Caleb and Bethany, and everyone else caught in Sarren’s ruthless sights. For the love of God, if you have some sliver of humanity left in you, any at all, don’t do it.

Sarren raised his left arm—the arm I’d sliced off with my katana the last time we met, severing it just above the elbow. A viciously curved blade had replaced the forearm, attached to his elbow with metal clamps and straps. Sarren smiled at me over the edge of the weapon, holding my gaze, then brought it slashing down toward the railing. The rope snapped, and the kids screamed as the net plummeted into the foaming water like a stone and sank from view.

“No!” Zeke gave a strangled, desperate cry and glanced back at me. His face was tortured, eyes bright with anguish. He knew we had to stop Sarren. He knew that if Requiem hit land, everything would be over. But he was still Zeke. The Zeke who protected his own, who refused to leave anyone behind, who loved his people fiercely and would give his life to keep them safe. If Caleb and Bethany died, even if we saved the world, Zeke would never forgive himself.

“Go,” I told him, and he spun, leaped the rails, and dove into the frigid water without hesitation. Surfacing, he struck out for the place where the net had sunk below the surface, fighting waves and current and the foaming wake of the barge. I watched him, the boat carrying us swiftly away, until a wave broke over the lean, bright form cutting through the water, and Zeke was lost from sight.

I swallowed the sudden terror that I’d never see him again and turned back to the barge. Jackal pushed the boat faster, and we closed the distance, the waves bouncing us so hard I felt the deck rattle when we came down.

“Get around it,” Kanin told Jackal, who nodded grimly and spun the wheel. The boat angled off and began following the sides of the great ship. “The pilothouse is at the front. We need to steer this thing away from land.”

A scream interrupted him. I looked up just in time to see a rabid fling itself from the top of the barge and land on deck. It gave a shriek and lunged toward Jackal, but Kanin intercepted it, driving his blade deep into the side of its neck and ripping it out the front. The rabid’s head toppled backward, and Kanin kicked the monster over the railings, into the lake.

“Shit!” Jackal yanked the wheel, and the boat veered away from the side. Chilled, I looked up the barge to see a huge horde of rabids swarming the platform, shrieking and hissing and tearing at themselves. They weren’t locked away in a hold or in cages; they were loose on the deck. And already infected.

We passed the open platform, the rabids screaming and hissing at us from the edge, and drew alongside the front of the barge. Waves tossed the boat, the foaming wake of the huge ship plowing through the water, but Jackal maneuvered us until we were just a few feet from the wall. A set of rusty metal rungs were welded to the side, leading to the top of the deck

Kanin turned to me.

“Let’s go.”

He leaped from the edge onto the ladder, shimmied up the side, and vanished over the rails. I followed, flinging myself over the water, grabbing the rungs as I came down.

Turning, I searched for Jackal, expecting to see him right behind me. He still stood at the helm, his lean body hunched over the wheel, almost leaning against it. I swallowed hard. In all the time I’d known him, he had never shown signs of pain or weakness, until now.

“Jackal!” My voice carried weakly over the waves. My brother didn’t move, and my fear increased. Sarren was on the other side of the barge, and there was a horde of screaming, infected rabids between us, but I knew he’d show up soon enough. “Come on! Jump! Before Sarren gets here.”

Jackal raised his head, eyes gleaming, gave me a strained smile. Black veins crawled up his throat and jaw, and the skin on one cheek was beginning to darken.

“Yeah, about that.” His voice made my stomach sink. It was tense, tight with agony, but resolved. Like he had just come to a conclusion, and knew we weren’t going to like what came next. “Sorry, sister. But you’re going to have to fight this one without me.”

“You can’t be serious! You’re going to leave now?” I gaped at him, not knowing whether to be stunned, furious or terrified I would never see him again, because he’d be dead soon. “After everything we did to get here? When you know what Requiem will do once it hits land? You’re still going to bail?”

He smirked, and the boat veered away. “It’s what I’m best at,” he called without an inkling of remorse. I stared after him, disbelieving, and he grinned. “Don’t worry, sister, I’m sure you and the old man will be able to beat Sarren on your own. But I can’t fight Sarren like this, and I’ve survived this long by knowing when the odds aren’t in my favor. So I’m afraid I’m going to have to fold.”

“You can’t run from this, you idiot! You’re infected with Requiem! Where are you going to go?”

“Don’t worry, sister.” Jackal’s smirk was more of a grimace. “What do I keep telling you? I always come out on top. You just worry about beating Sarren. Kick him in the teeth a few times for me, would you? I’d appreciate it.”

“Jackal...” Desperate, I stared at him, wishing I knew what to say to stop this. “You won’t survive. If we lose, if Sarren wins, everyone will die.”

Jackal gave me a wry, humorless smile. “Then I’ll see you both in hell,” he called, and sped off, pulling ahead of the barge and vanishing into the black. Numb, I stared after the boat until it was lost to the waves, as Jackal disappeared into the unknown once more, then I scurried up the ladder.

Kanin waited for me on top, saying nothing as I climbed over the railing to join him at the edge of the barge. We stood on the front deck, the wind whipping at our clothes as the huge vessel sliced unerringly through the water. Several yards away, the pilothouse rose into the air, and beyond that, the deck dropped away to the huge floating platform that made up the rest of the barge. Long metal containers were scattered across the platform, creating a labyrinth of aisles and corridors, and also a walkway the rabids couldn’t reach from below. Of course, one wrong move or slip meant you would fall to a grisly death. A pair of containers had been stacked together and shoved against the wall closest to the pilothouse, preventing the monsters from climbing onto the front deck. Sarren was nowhere in sight.

“Jackal...” I began, not knowing what to say.

“It doesn’t matter,” Kanin said, moving swiftly toward the pilothouse. “He made his choice, and it is up to us now. If we can reach the controls and turn this ship around, there will be time to deal with the rabids and Sarren. But we must stop Requiem from making landfall. If the rabids escape to the mainland, it will be over.”

“Oh, Kanin,” purred a familiar, instantly terrifying voice, from somewhere overhead. I looked up, and there was Sarren, standing atop the pilothouse, his bladed arm glinting in the moonlight, a steel ice ax in his remaining hand. His smile was viciously inhuman. “Did you really think it would be that easy?”

Leaping down, the tall, bony vampire swung at me with savage force, and I barely brought my katana up in time to block. The curved, pointed head of the ax struck the blade and sent me reeling back a few steps, and Sarren instantly whirled to deflect Kanin’s blow with his other arm. The weapons met with a raspy screech, and I leaped back into the fray, snarling my hate for the insane vampire. As his blade sliced at me, I ducked and slashed up with my katana, aiming for his throat. He smoothly moved his head back just enough to avoid it, blocked Kanin’s stab with his arm, and hammered me in the gut with the blunt end of the ax. Something inside me snapped, and pain exploded through my middle, nearly dropping me to my knees. As I staggered, Sarren swung his blade arm at my head, aiming for my neck, and for a split second, I thought I had lost. That he’d behead me and I would die the final death.

Then Kanin ducked beneath Sarren’s ax, lunged and slammed into him, knocking him back. The very point of the blade slashed my throat, drawing blood, but leaving my head firmly on my neck. Sarren gave an annoyed hiss and dropped a bony elbow into Kanin’s spine, then swung the ax up into his jaw as he staggered. Kanin reeled away, blood pouring from his mouth and chin, and I caught him before he could fall.

“Kanin!”

“I’m fine.” The vampire spat blood, then glanced at Sarren, who waited for us calmly, a pleased smile on his scarred face. He didn’t seem to be in any hurry to engage us. “That was very close, Allison,” Kanin murmured, giving me a look that was both anxious and stern. “I taught you better than that. Calm your rage—don’t let Sarren bait you into attacking blindly. Remember how important this is.”

I nodded. I had been careless and was certainly paying for it now. My ribs throbbed, and every movement sent a jagged shard of pain through my middle, making me grit my teeth. Something was definitely broken inside, maybe multiple somethings. I was healing, albeit slowly, but we had a long fight ahead of us. And not much time to finish it.

Unlike Sarren, who had all the time in the world.

“Can you hear it?” Sarren whispered, his eyes shining with glee and madness as we approached again, cautiously this time. He raised his bladed arm to the front of the boat, a look of ecstasy crossing his face. “The song, the requiem—it calls to us all. The end draws ever closer, one final note, to sing this world to sleep.” His gaze shifted to me, and he smiled. “You cannot stop it, little bird. You can only beat your wings against the bars of your cage, and you don’t even realize you are trapped. You do not see the sickness, the corruption, all around you, twisting everything it touches. Requiem will set you free. It will set us all free.”

“Death isn’t the answer,” I growled, gritting my teeth through the pain in my ribs. “Destroying everything, letting the world start over, isn’t the answer. You’re just giving up. But there are still things worth fighting for, things worth living for.”

Sarren gave me a look of genuine pity. “No, little bird,” he said, shaking his head. “You are still an infant demon, far too young to know the truth. Eternity is not a gift. It is a curse. The longer you live, the bleaker and darker the world becomes, until you are stumbling around, blind, in the shadows. Kanin knows, don’t you, old friend?” He looked at my sire, smiling faintly. “You long for oblivion, for an end to your eternal wandering. But you’re afraid of what comes after, that the evil staining your soul will send it to damnation. And so, you continue to live, to exist, in the hell you created, hoping to atone for what you have done.” Sarren chuckled, and it sent a chill up my spine. “But there is no redemption for us, old friend,” he whispered. “Nothing can wipe away what we have caused, the centuries of blood and death. How can we cleanse our souls, when the very world around us pulses with rot and filth and decay?” Sarren’s lip curled in a snarl of disgust. “No, it is time to end it. It is time to wipe the sickness clean, once and for all. And you, little bird, will not stop it!”

He lunged, coming in fast, swinging his blade at my face. I hadn’t forgotten how quick the insane vampire really was, but knowing how fast Sarren could move did me no good here. Even though I was expecting it, I barely managed to leap back, desperately swinging my katana to keep him at bay. At the same instant, Kanin stepped in with his knife, cutting at his throat. But Sarren blocked my swing, dodged Kanin’s weapon, and lashed out with a kick, striking me in the chest. As I was hurled away, I saw Sarren spin toward the other vampire, whirling his ax in a vicious arc toward his neck. This time, Kanin ducked beneath his arm, stepped in, and plunged his blade into Sarren’s stomach, ripping it out the other side.

Sarren roared. As I staggered to my feet, feeling the sharp throb of my ribs explode with pain, the vampire lunged at Kanin, striking him a glancing blow across the temple even as Kanin responded with a stab to his chest. I started forward, intending to jump back into the fray, but Kanin spared me a split-second glance as Sarren reeled back. “Get to the wheelhouse!” he ordered as Sarren hissed like a furious snake and came at him again. “Don’t worry about me—turn the barge, Allison!”

Sarren roared again, his mad eyes snapping to me, and I took off, running full tilt for the pilothouse. I saw the crazy vamp start toward me, but Kanin lunged at him with a terrifying snarl of his own, forcing him to turn. Hitting the stairs, I leaped up to the third floor, ignoring the rabids, who screamed and hissed at me from below, trying to scramble up the metal barrier. I reached the last deck, where a line of dark windows surrounded a tiny room with a metal door, grabbed the handle, and wrenched it down.

It didn’t budge. I twisted it again, putting all my vampire strength into turning it, but the door didn’t move. I looked closer and saw the metal along the edge of the door had been fused together, welded shut, and the windows had thick iron beams running across them from inside.

“No, no, little bird,” hissed Sarren’s terrifying voice, and the vampire heaved himself onto the deck one-handed. Blood covered his face, running down his white skin, seeping into the web of scars. “That is not for you.”

I snarled my fear and swung at him wildly; his free hand shot out, grabbed my wrist, and wrenched me off the deck, hurling me into space. I felt a stab of instant terror as the swarm of screaming, infected rabids rushed toward me as I plummeted, before I struck the edge of the metal container with a jolt and a fresh blaze of agony.

Wincing, I looked up to see Sarren descending toward me, his blade scything down at my head, and threw myself aside. The vampire hit the container with a thud and a ringing screech, sending sparks flying off the metal.

My katana lay a few feet from my arm. I reached for it, but Sarren stepped up and brought his foot smashing down on my elbow. Bones snapped, but my scream was cut off as the vampire kicked me in the ribs, driving me into the railings and shattering my world into shards of agony.

A roar echoed across the deck. I looked back to see Kanin, his face and arm streaked with blood, descend on Sarren like an avenging angel, driving him back. For a few brief, frantic moments, the two vampires snarled and fought each other at the very edge of the container, one step away from plummeting into the swarm below. I tried to get up, to help Kanin, but though my wounds were healing, the bones slowly knitting back together, I could barely move more than a few inches without gasping in pain.

Kanin’s dagger suddenly got through, plunging into Sarren’s chest; the vampire howled. Before Kanin could pull back, Sarren grabbed his wrist, sinking the blade deeper into his own body while slashing at Kanin’s throat. Kanin threw himself to the side to avoid it, leaving his dagger embedded in Sarren’s chest, and stumbled to edge of the platform.

I cried out as for a brief second he teetered there, looking like he would fall. I heard the rabids erupt into a frenzy of screeching, knew they were leaping and clawing for the vampire overhead. All Sarren had to do was shove him back, and Kanin would fall off the edge to his death.

But Sarren reached out, snagged Kanin by the collar, and threw him away from the ledge. Kanin hit the ground and rolled, coming to stop a few feet from me, a split-second look of astonishment crossing his face.

Sarren shook his head at us.

“Ah, ah,” he crooned, waggling a bony finger. “None of that. Can’t have you spreading your nasty sickness and ruining the symphony. We’re just getting to the climax.” Reaching for the dagger still stuck in his chest, he pulled it loose, regarded it calmly, and dropped it to the deck. “And now, I think it’s time I killed you, old friend,” he mused, starting forward. “Once and for all.”

Kanin straightened calmly, unarmed, and watched the mad vampire stalk toward him. Clenching my jaw, I pushed myself upright, gritting my teeth to keep the scream contained. Every movement still stabbed like a knife, and my right arm dangled uselessly, but my left one still worked. Enough to hold a sword, anyway. Taking one step forward, I put myself between Sarren and my sire and bared my fangs. “You’ll have to get past me,” I snarled, raising my katana. Sarren looked at me in amused surprise, then chuckled.

“Oh, little bird. I see now.” He nodded slowly, smiling almost to himself. “I see why Kanin chose you. You don’t know when to stop. You continue to rage against the inevitable, beating your wings against the coming darkness, even as it drags you down into its sweet, eternal embrace.” His fangs gleamed through the shadows at me. “You have such fire, such...hope. And for someone like Kanin...it must have been irresistible. Even though he told himself it was futile to hope.” Cocking his head, he regarded me intently. “So...you must represent everything he believes in. Everything he longs to atone for.”

I spared a glance at Kanin, a few feet from the railings, watching us. His expression was blank, but I met his dark gaze and saw a hundred different emotions staring back at me. Something inscrutable passed between us, a fleeting understanding, almost too fast to be real. Whether it was through our blood tie or something else, I wasn’t certain, but I knew what I had to do.

I gave a tiny nod, and turned back to Sarren.

“What would it do to him,” Sarren mused, unaware of our brief connection, “if I destroyed you right here? Right before his eyes. Everything he hopes for, gone in an instant. I might not even have to kill him afterward. With his little bird gone, with her song silenced forever, there will be nothing to save him from his own despair.” He finally glanced at Kanin, a truly evil gleam in his eyes. “How does that sound to you, old friend?”

I took one step forward and bared my fangs.

“Hey, psychopath,” I snarled, and Sarren’s gaze flicked to me. “Why don’t you stop talking already? You’re worse than Jackal ever was, and unless you intend to yap me to death, let’s get on with it.” I raised my katana one-handed, giving him a challenging sneer. “I’m not dead yet.”

Sarren laughed and faced me fully, his fangs sliding into view. “Very well, little bird,” he whispered as I gripped my sword and prepared myself. “If you are that eager for death, I will oblige you. Your prince is gone, your brother has deserted you, and Kanin will not be able to save you. You are alone. Think on that, as I send you to hell.”

He attacked, his sword arm a streak of metal in the darkness, coming right at me. I didn’t try to block, or counter. As Sarren stabbed forward, I leaped back and half turned, tossing my blade aside.

To Kanin.

Sarren’s eyes widened as he realized what was happening. He spun, the blade missing my head by inches, to face the unexpected attack from behind. But Kanin was already moving, the katana cutting a deadly arc through the air, right at Sarren’s neck, and the mad vampire desperately lunged back to avoid it.

Too late. The edge sliced into his throat in a spray of crimson, opening a huge gash below his chin. Sarren’s head fell back, the gaping wound streaming blood down his entire front, as his mouth made harsh gurgling sounds and his hand groped at his opened throat. He staggered away, hit the railings, and tumbled over the edge of the barge, vanishing into the foaming waters below.

Sarren was gone.

I slumped against the railing, shaking with relief, as about a thousand different hurts decided to make themselves known. My arm throbbed, and I didn’t know how much was broken inside, but it felt like my entire rib cage was in pieces, stabbing me with every motion. I was healing; I could feel wounds closing, bones knitting back together, but it was agonizingly slow, and the Hunger had roared up full force with the damage. I needed blood, but there was no one around. No one human, anyway. And we couldn’t relax just yet.

Setting my jaw, I pushed myself upright, gritting my teeth against the instant flare of pain, and looked around for Kanin.

He stood at the side of the barge, still holding my katana in one pale hand, his dark eyes staring at the place Sarren had fallen. His expression was unreadable, and for some reason, it sent a twist of fear through my stomach.

“Kanin?” I limped up to him, searching his face. His eyes were glazed, and he didn’t seem to have heard me. My fear increased. Something was wrong. We had to stop this ship before it plowed straight into the refugee camp and set Requiem loose on the world. Kanin knew that. Why was he just standing there?

“Hey.” I grabbed his arm, and he jerked, finally looking down at me, though his expression was still distant, far away. “We have to stop the ship,” I told him. “Kill the engine, turn it around, something! How do we do that? Tell me what to do.”

He blinked at me. “The pilothouse,” he said, as if just coming out of a daze. “Get inside, turn the ship, if Sarren hasn’t locked in the controls. Go,” he continued, pushing the katana into my hands. “You might still have enough time.”

I started off but paused, remembering the welded door, and turned back to look at him. He had left the railings, and was gazing at the end of the platform, where the infected rabids screeched and clawed at themselves below. For a moment, he hesitated, then stepped toward the edge.

“Kanin!” I lunged back, grabbing his arm. “Are you crazy? What are you doing?” My sire gazed down at me, his expression resigned, and I tightened my grip on his sleeve. “You know something,” I guessed, searching his face. “You were going to do something without me.”

He didn’t reply, and I met his eyes, pleading. “Kanin,” I whispered. “Please. It’s just us now. Tell me what’s going on.”

Kanin sighed, and his shoulders slumped as he bowed his head. “It’s me,” he finally whispered, almost too soft to hear.

I frowned in confusion. The barge lurched forward, relentless, and a few yards away, the screams of the infected rabids echoed from the bottom of the ship, but Kanin seemed to have forgotten all of them.

“What do you mean?”

“I figured it out,” he went on, his voice barely above a murmur. “What Sarren meant, why he didn’t let me fall.” I still stared at him in bewilderment, and his gaze drifted to the edge of the deck, where the rabids waited on the other side.

“The cure,” he whispered, making my stomach twist. “Dr. Richardson said they were missing vampire blood to finish the cure. That research is gone now, but they gave what they had to Ezekiel, before he left Eden to find you.” His gaze returned to me, dark and intense. “And in New Covington, when I was dying from Sarren’s first virus, you injected me with Ezekiel’s blood, and it saved my life. It was enough to cure the sickness.” He lightly touched his chest. “That research flows through me now, through my blood.”

And what Kanin was saying hit me like a ton of bricks, and I stared at him in shock. “The blood of a Master vampire,” I whispered, stepping back. “That means, the cure...”

“Is me,” Kanin said again. “The cure—for Requiem, for Rabidism...is in me.”

I gaped at him, staggered by the implications. The cure! The cure for Rabidism at last. Sarren had fought so hard to destroy it, to kill any hope that one could be found, and it had been in Kanin all along. The blood of a vampire, combined with the research—the vaccine—that had been given to Zeke just before he’d left Eden to find me.

Would it really work? It seemed too good to be true, almost too easy. But Zeke had survived Sarren’s first virus, and Kanin was one of the few vampires who could still produce offspring without creating rabids. His blood was strong, the blood of a Master vampire; it just might be enough.

“That’s amazing, Kanin,” I whispered, still reeling from the discovery. “We just have to stop the ship, find a way to get you to a lab. If the cure is in you, we just need your blood to end Rabidism for—”

“Allison.” His voice made me freeze, the words dying in my throat. Kanin peered down at me, gentle and resolved. “There is no time,” he murmured, shaking his head. “Look.”

I stared over the railings, into the night. At first, there was nothing. Then, through the waves and shadows, a light winked in the darkness, and my heart plummeted.

That was the checkpoint, and landfall. We were closer than I thought.

“We’re too close,” Kanin said, his voice unnaturally calm. “Even if Sarren has not locked in the controls, there is no time to turn the ship around. And once it runs aground, the rabids will escape, and Requiem will still destroy the world once it begins to spread. We cannot risk the virus reaching land. We must stop it here.” He paused, his next words very soft, but filled with resolve. “I must stop it here.”

“How?” I asked, without really thinking about it.

Kanin smiled down at me, a faint, sad, gentle smile, and the world just stopped.

“No.” I stepped in front of him, horror flooding my veins, turning my insides cold. My sire only continued to watch me, and I grabbed the front of his shirt in desperation. “Kanin, no! You can’t. There has to be another way.”

“There is no other way.” His voice was calm, subdued. He put a hand on my arm, as if to push me off, and I tightened my grip. I didn’t care what he thought. I wasn’t going to let him do this. I’d lost so many; even Jackal, the blood brother I’d never thought I would miss, was gone, probably to his death. I could not lose Kanin, the last member of my family, the one who had given me a second chance and a family in the first place.

“Allison.” Kanin gazed down at me, his dark eyes gentle but intense. He didn’t shove me away, or pry me loose, though he could’ve freed himself as easily as opening a door. “Let me do this.” I shook my head, unable to speak, but his voice never wavered. “It has to be me. Requiem cannot be allowed to spread. The cure is inside me, and the rabids have to receive it before this ship runs aground. That’s what Sarren was talking about. He knew. He knew that if my blood got into their system, his plan would fail. With the rabids’ accelerated healing, the cure will spread through them very quickly, and Requiem will be destroyed.”

“We don’t know that,” I choked out as my eyes started to burn. “We don’t know what Sarren really meant. You could be throwing your life away, Kanin.”

“No.” Kanin shook his head, almost in a daze. “It makes sense. The blood of a Master is the only thing strong enough to counter the virus. Sarren knew that whatever was in Ezekiel was the key to the cure. The only thing missing...was vampire blood.” His eyes closed, his head tilted back toward the sky. “I’ve searched so long,” he whispered. “So long for a way to atone, to be forgiven for what I caused. And now, everything has come full circle, as it should. This is my redemption.” Opening his eyes, his hands rose, coming to rest on my shoulders, squeezing gently. “I started this, Allison. It’s only fitting that I end it, as well.”

“Kanin.” Tears were streaming down my cheeks now, bloody and hot, making it difficult to see. Leaning forward, I collapsed against him, clutching at his shirt. “You can’t,” I choked out, knowing it was futile. That he’d already made up his mind. “Don’t...leave me. What am I going to do...when you’re gone?”

Very slowly, his arms slid around me, holding me against him. “You won’t be alone,” he murmured, bending his head close to mine. “You have Ezekiel. The road will be hard, and you might have to save each other from time to time. But Ezekiel has surprised me, and you are one of the strongest vampires I have ever seen. I’ve taught you everything I can.” He pulled back, smiling down at me. “You don’t need me anymore.”

I couldn’t speak. I could barely see him through the tears. Silently, I let my hands drop from his chest, desperation giving way to despair. Kanin held me a moment longer, then lowered his arms and stepped back, his stare appraising.

“You are my last offspring,” he murmured. “My legacy to this world.” His eyes went solemn, and he brushed a knuckle across my cheek. “You’re a Master now, Allison,” he stated simply. “Possibly the first to have been created since the Rabidism plague. I’ve known it since that night in Old Chicago, when you came out of hibernation—only a Master vampire would revive so quickly. And you will continue to grow stronger and stronger, until you are a match for even the Princes of the cities.” I blinked in surprise, and he gave a faint smile as he stepped away. “Now, it is your turn to leave your own mark on the world.”

“Kanin, wait,” I whispered as he started to turn. He paused, and I swallowed the tears to clear my throat. “I never...got the chance to thank you,” I said shakily, facing my sire for the very last time. “For everything. What you taught me—that I can choose what kind of monster I am...I won’t forget it.”

Kanin leaned forward, bent down, and very lightly touched his lips to my forehead. “I am proud of you, Allison Sekemoto,” he whispered as he drew back. “Whatever you decide, whatever path you choose to take, I hope that you will remain the same girl I met that night in the rain. The one decision for which I have no regrets.”

Then he turned and walked away, pausing only to grab his blade from where it lay on the deck, where Sarren had dropped it. I watched him, unable to move, unable to stop the flow of tears, as Kanin walked calmly to the edge of the platform and gazed down at the rabids below.

For just a moment, he stood there, a Master vampire, my sire, teacher, mentor and friend, silhouetted against the night sky. Then the bloody tears filling my eyes blinded me; I blinked them away, clearing my vision...

...and the ledge was empty when I looked back.

A chorus of mad screams and howls rose from the edge of the platform, vicious and bloodthirsty. I turned my face into the wall, clenching my teeth and squeezing my eyes shut, trying to block out the sounds. The screams from the rabids intensified, surging into the air, and the sudden smell of blood laced the wind, making me cry out and beat my fists against the wall, but Kanin made no noise. No cries of pain, no snarls of rage or hate, nothing. Only at the end, when the scuffles had died down, did I feel a last, brief stab of emotion from a dying Master. It wasn’t fear, or anger, or regret.

It was...contentment. Kanin was finally at peace.

Then the feeling flickered and died, and I felt our blood tie fade away, as the vampire who had damned the world, who had made me immortal even as he searched for a way to cleanse his soul, finally found his redemption.

Chapter 19

I was alone.

I couldn’t move. I couldn’t think. I could only kneel there on the cold deck, feeling the wall of the pilothouse press into my cheek, and sob. Behind me, the rabids hissed and clawed at each other, their harsh voices rising into the air, but I couldn’t even hate them. I couldn’t feel anything through the numbing grief, the horrible, aching knowledge that I had let my sire die. The fact that he had given his life to stop Requiem wasn’t lost on me, but I didn’t care. He had died saving the world, he had found his atonement, but all I knew right then was that Kanin was gone.

“Allie!”

I felt a presence drop beside me, and strong arms on my shoulders, pulling me back, away from the wall. I looked up and met Zeke’s blue eyes, peering down anxiously. He was soaked, his clothes drenched, and his skin was like ice, but it didn’t seem to affect him.

“Are you all right?” Zeke whispered, pressing one palm to my cheek, his gaze searching for wounds. I couldn’t answer, and his expression grew alarmed. “Allie, talk to me. Are you hurt? Where are Kanin and Jackal? Where’s Sarren?”

“They’re gone,” I choked out. “They’re all gone. Jackal took off again. Sarren got his stupid crazy head sliced off and fell overboard. And Kanin...” My gaze went to the edge of the deck, at the spot where Kanin last stood, calm and resolved, accepting his fate.

“Kanin...figured out the cure was inside him,” I whispered, feeling a fresh flood of tears press behind my eyes, even as I tried to compose myself. “Sarren told him as much. The cure was inside him, and he knew Requiem had to be stopped, before it could reach land. So...so, he...”

Zeke let out a slow breath. Reaching out, he pulled me against him, holding me as tightly as he could. “I’m sorry, Allison,” he murmured into my hair. He didn’t say anything else; there was nothing to be said. For a moment, we knelt there, clinging to each other, as the rabids shrieked below us and the ship plowed on, unconcerned with the passing of one of the last Master vampires.

Finally, I pulled back, wiping my burning face. “How did you get here, Zeke?” I murmured. And then, suddenly remembering why he had gone into the lake, gasped. “Where...where are Caleb and Bethany?” Desperation flared up again, as I realized he was alone. If, on top of everything else, those two little kids had drowned...

“They’re all right,” Zeke assured me, easing my panic. “I got to them in time.” He nodded to the second floor of the pilothouse, where two small white faces peered down at us. “They’re freezing,” Zeke muttered darkly, “and terrified, but they’ll be all right. At least for now. Had to piggyback them all the way here, and then find the ladder up, with them clinging to my back the whole way.” He shook his head ruefully. “I think it’s the first time I’ve been grateful to be a vampire—we wouldn’t have made it, otherwise.”

At the sight of the two kids, my Hunger surged up and roared to life. But Zeke’s fingers dug into my arms, and his voice became urgent. “Allison,” he said, as I clamped down on my bloodlust, trying to focus, “we’re not done yet. We have to stop the ship.” He nodded toward the edge of the deck. “There are still a lot of rabids down there. Even if they’re not infected, if this thing hits the checkpoint, it’ll be a massacre.”

I looked over the barge to where the lights of the checkpoint gleamed straight ahead. There didn’t seem to be enough time, and I was tired, hurt and starving. My sword arm still ached; I could just now flex my fingers, and there was still a shattered bone lodged somewhere in my chest. I wanted to lie motionless until whatever was broken inside me healed. I wanted to find the nearest human and plunge my fangs into their throat. And I wanted to find a quiet place to curl up and mourn my sire. Instead, I nodded and pulled away from Zeke, wiping the last of the blood from my eyes.

“Come on, then,” I told him, making my way around the pilothouse, toward the stairs to the top deck. “The door to the controls is welded shut, but if we can get it open, we might be able to stop this thing.”

I hurried up the steps, ignoring Caleb and Bethany’s small, shivering figures as they huddled together on the second floor, desperately keeping my Hunger under control. The demon screamed at me to attack, to leap down and rip open a child’s throat, knowing it would soothe the pain stabbing me from inside. It took all my willpower to keep going when Caleb called out to me, waving a pale, twiggy arm in my direction.

We reached the door to the pilothouse. I put my shoulder to the metal and slammed into it, ignoring the pain that rocketed through my body. It didn’t budge, and Zeke joined me, slamming into the door, trying to break it open.

“No good,” he muttered after we’d crashed into it a few times to no avail. “It’s not going to open.”

I glared at the door, anger and desperation rising up to dance with each other. I’m a Master vampire, I thought, clenching my fists. Though the notion was still hard to believe—me, a Master vampire like Kanin? Like a Prince? But I trusted my sire, and I knew he would never lie to me. Kanin would be able to get through. And I’m not going to let those people on shore die just because of a damn door. So, open up, you stupid thing!

I bashed into it once more, putting the last of my strength behind the blow. The impact jarred my body, sending a flare of pain through my almost-healed ribs, but the door flew open with a crash, and I stumbled inside.

The moment of triumph soon faded, though, once we were in the pilothouse. The controls, complicated and unfamiliar already, had been smashed and bent beyond repair. The wheel had been ripped off, broken, and was lying in pieces in the corner. Sarren had locked his course in, just as Kanin had guessed, and there’d be no changing direction, not from here, anyway.

“Dammit!” I snapped, gazing around helplessly. Through the window, the lights of the shoreline glimmered frighteningly close. “What now?”

“The anchor,” Zeke said, pointing to a metal box on the wall, with a single button in the center. “Drop anchor—it might be enough to turn this thing so it doesn’t crash into the checkpoint.”

I slammed my thumb into the button. There was a click, but nothing happened. The barge continued to plow toward shore with no signs of slowing down.

“He must’ve cut the chain,” Zeke growled, running both hands through his hair. “And there’s no time to get to the engine room, even if we could get in.” He closed his eyes, pressing his fists to his forehead. “What are we going to do?”

Desperate, I gazed at the barge, past the rabids milling below on the platform, to the back of the ship. I spotted the chain Zeke was referring to, the one that was supposed to be attached to an anchor, lying in a neat coil on the deck. There was no anchor, obviously, but there were a pair of open metal containers lying close by, identical to the ones the rabids were prowling through below. And the ghost of an idea went through my mind. It was a gamble, and we’d have to get past that huge mob of rabids, but there were no options left. We were out of time.

“Come on,” I told Zeke, backing away from the controls. “I just thought of something.”

I whirled toward the door, but froze when I saw Caleb in the frame, pale and shivering, gazing up at me with big, dark eyes.

“Allie,” he said, a shaky smile spreading over his face. “I kn-knew it. I knew you’d come back.”

The demon surged up with a roar. Before I could move, Zeke sprang forward and grabbed me around the waist even as my fangs slid out and I tensed to lunge, to pounce and rip open the child’s throat.

“Caleb, get back!” Zeke shouted, and Caleb’s eyes went huge with fear. Zeke held me tight, his arms like steel bands around me, even as I squeezed my eyes shut and turned into him, fighting for control. “Go down to the bottom floor with Bethany and stay there,” Zeke ordered, his voice firm, as I clenched my fist in his shirt and pressed my forehead to his chest. “When we leave, you and Bethany come into this room, bar the door and don’t open it for anyone but me, you hear?”

My demon howled, and the Hunger ripped and tore at my insides, both driving me insane. I heard Caleb sniffle, heard his frightened voice start to protest, and Zeke’s voice hardened. “Now, Caleb!”

The child broke into hiccupping sobs and fled. Zeke didn’t relent until the footsteps on the stairs disappeared, then very carefully loosened his grip, though not enough to let me go.

“Allie?”

“I’m okay,” I said through gritted teeth. The Hunger burned through my veins, relentless and terrible, but I forced my fangs to retract and stilled the thoughts of pouncing on a child and sinking my teeth into his throat. “Thanks for catching me.”

“Always, vampire girl.” Zeke pressed his forehead to mine. “Just promise me you’ll do the same. We’ll catch each other.” He glanced up, making sure Caleb was gone, then pulled away. “But right now, we have to stop a ship. What were you planning to do?”

Oh, yeah. The ship. “This way,” I said, leading him back down the stairs. I smelled Caleb and Bethany, somewhere close by, but I couldn’t let myself think of them right now. Back on deck, I gazed across the platform and the maze of shipping containers below, to the other side of the ship. A chill ran up my spine. Rabids screamed and hissed at us from below, and the shoreline was frighteningly near. We had a few minutes at most.

“What’s the plan, Allison?”

I pointed across the chasm. “The chain,” I said, and his gaze fell to the heavy coils by the side of the ship. “The anchor is gone, but if we attached the chain to that container and push it over the side...”

“It might be enough drag to turn the barge,” Zeke finished. “Especially when it fills up with water. It won’t stop the ship, but it just needs to turn it so that it misses the checkpoint.” He nodded slowly, though his expression was unsure. “It just might work, but that container is huge, Allie. Can we move it?”

“We have to,” I growled, and he didn’t argue. Reaching back, I pulled my sword, my fingers still stiff from when Sarren had broken my arm. “We’ll have to go through the rabids,” I said, as Zeke drew his machete, as well. “If we stay on top of the containers, they shouldn’t be a problem. But we have to reach the other side. Nothing else matters now.”

Zeke nodded and raised his weapon. “Go,” he said, nodding to the edge of the deck. “I’m right behind you.”

I stepped to the edge of the platform and surveyed the labyrinth of containers, trying to gauge the best path to the other side. Instantly, the rabids surged forward with screams and wails, clawing at the wall, trying to leap at me. Their numbers were smaller now, I realized, and pale bodies were scattered about the deck, twisted and in pieces. The Master vampire, though severely outnumbered and intending to die, had not gone quietly into his eternal night.

I deliberately kept my gaze from straying to the suspicious dark blot in the center of the platform. The place my sire had fallen.

Taking one step back, I gathered myself and leaped off the deck, aiming for the top of the nearest shipping container. I hit the roof with a ringing clang, and the rabids immediately swarmed around it, their talons screeching off the sides. One of them clawed its way up the backs of its fellows, hissing as it scrambled up beside me. I cut the head from its shoulders with a quick slash of my blade, and it tumbled back into the masses.

Zeke landed behind me with a clang, and together we fled for the opposite side, the rabids screeching and swarming below us. Leaping from container to container, we crossed the platform with only a few pale monsters managing to claw their way onto the roofs. Screaming, they hurled themselves at us, blind with rage, but we cut them down and kept going.

Reaching the edge of one container, I skidded to a halt. This was the last roof we had to cross, and there was one final, very high jump we had to make before we reached the other side of the barge. To even have a chance I needed a running start, but two rabids blocked my way, hissing and snarling as they came forward.

Or one of them did, anyway. The other staggered, looking confused. As the first rabid lunged and met a swift end on my katana, the second shook its head, nearly falling off the edge of the roof. Its face had been clawed open until it was more skull than flesh, but small patches of skin were starting to grow over the gaping wounds.

The rabid shook itself and came at me again, hissing, but it was slower now, its movements not nearly as frantic as before. I easily cut it down and kicked it off the edge of the roof, letting it drop to the swarm below.

“You all right?” Zeke asked, coming up behind me. Dark blood streaked his arms, face and machete, but it wasn’t his own. His fangs glinted as he spoke. “What happened?”

I shook my head, wanting to explain what I’d seen with the rabid, but there was no time. “Nothing,” I said, facing the edge of the deck, and the long jump before it. “Ready for this?” I asked, shooting a quick glance at Zeke. “Can you make it?”

A rabid clawed its way up behind us and shrieked, and Zeke tensed. “I don’t have a choice. Go!”

I ran for the edge of the container and flung myself into empty space. Maybe it was the new knowledge that I was a Master vampire, or maybe I was just desperate, but it felt like I leaped higher than I ever had before. I struck the top of the deck with room to spare and instantly whirled, lunged forward, and grabbed Zeke as he fell toward the edge of the platform, yanking him to safety.

We sprawled on the deck for only a moment, tangled in each other, our fingers interlocked, before scrambling upright. The open container sat at the edge of the barge, empty and hollow in the moonlight, and I sprinted toward it.

“Grab the chain!” I told Zeke, snatching a length of the massive, heavy links myself. The coils were huge, individual links larger than my fist. It wouldn’t snap, that was for certain. I just had to make sure it wouldn’t break from the container. Dragging it to the metal box, I searched for something to attach it to. Thick steel bars ran vertically up the back of the open doors; I wound the chain through them, then looked around for something to secure them in place.

“Allie!” Zeke tossed me a pipe. I grabbed it, shoved it through the metal links and, gritting my teeth, bent the pipe around the chain, twisting it several times.

There, I thought, taking a step back, surveying my handiwork. The chain was attached to the container, the doors already open. Now all we had to do was shove it overboard and hope that a huge metal box filled with water would be enough drag to turn the ship.

Something moved from the corner of my eye, and the blood froze in my veins.

No. It can’t be. He should be dead.

I whirled, shouting a desperate warning, and Zeke glanced up from where he was unwinding the heavy coils of chain. Too late.

A long, curved blade erupted from Zeke’s chest, punching into the air and gleaming in the moonlight, and Zeke screamed. Sarren, dripping wet, fangs bared in a terrifying snarl, lifted him off his feet, pushing the impaled vampire into the air, and I roared.

Drawing my katana, I flew at Sarren, who swung his arm and hurled Zeke’s body away before turning on me. Zeke crashed to the deck several yards away, crying out in agony, and I closed on Sarren.

“Why won’t you just die!” I screamed, slashing my blade at the mad vampire, intending to cut him in half. No more taking chances; this time I’d sever his head, his legs, his other arm, his spine. I’d slice him into a dozen pieces and scatter them to different ends of the earth to make certain he was dead.

Sarren blocked my swing with his sword, lunged in, and grabbed my throat. Still insanely fast. I felt my feet leave the ground as my opponent lifted me up and slammed me onto the deck with a crash that made my head ring.

Sarren knelt above me, still pinning me by the throat. His face was pulled into a vicious snarl, his eyes blank and terrifying. Fear lanced through my stomach. There’d be no words this time, no toying with his prey, no taunts or hints or creepy poetry. I faced the true demon now, and it wasn’t interested in words. All it wanted was to rip me apart.

Sarren’s grip tightened, bony fingers closing like a vice, crushing my windpipe and turning the world red with pain. One knee pinned my sword arm to the deck; I couldn’t move my arm, and watched as Sarren raised his sword, angling it toward my neck.

With a defiant snarl, I clenched my free hand into a fist and punched the arm at my throat as hard as I could, striking the elbow. There was a snap and Sarren toppled forward, the pressure at my throat loosening as he was thrown off-balance. I shoved hard with my legs, bucking him over my head, then scrambled upright with my sword.

I barely had time to turn before he was on me again, hissing and baring his fangs. I dodged the first savage blow, deflected the second, and was hurled back as Sarren lunged in and kicked me in the chest. I hit the deck, rolled to my knees, and stabbed up as quickly as I could, almost without thinking. A jolt went up my arms as Sarren hit the point of my blade, impaling himself through the stomach. He glanced down at the weapon through his gut, bared his fangs, and stepped forward, sliding along the katana edge and slashing his sword arm at my face.

I jerked back, managing to keep ahold of my weapon, wrenching the katana free in a spray of blood. Sarren didn’t even slow down as he attacked once more, driving me back across the deck. Blood drenched his front, dripping to the metal, but his eyes were crazed and glassy, beyond any pain. Past his head, I caught a split-second glimpse of land, of the lights of the checkpoint, nearly upon us.

Snarling, I knocked away Sarren’s blade and slashed in with my own, desperate to end this. He dodged, the edge missing his head by centimeters, and lunged forward with an inhuman shriek. I jumped back, but hit the wall of the engine room, striking my head against the metal. In that moment of shock, Sarren stabbed forward, and the tip of his blade slammed into my shoulder, sinking deep and pinning me to the wall.

Agony flared. I howled and slashed at him, but his free hand shot out, striking my wrist as the blow came down, and my sword was knocked from my grasp, skidding across the deck. Turning back, Sarren hissed and shoved the blade in deeper, twisting it as he did, and I screamed.

Zeke suddenly rammed into Sarren, hitting him from the side as he brought his machete slashing down at his neck. The impact sent another blaze of agony up my shoulder, setting it on fire, as the blade pinning me to the wall snapped with a metallic ringing sound, and Sarren lurched away with half a sword. Roaring, the mad vampire spun on Zeke, who faced him with his machete in hand, the other pressed to his chest. His clothes were drenched with blood, and he could barely stand, his jaw clenched with pain and determination.

Zeke bared his fangs and slashed viciously at Sarren’s face, but his swing was wild, hindered by pain and blood loss. Sarren blocked easily and grabbed Zeke by the throat, lifting him up with a snarl. I grabbed the blade in my shoulder and, ignoring the jagged edge slicing my fingers, pulled it free, lunged at Sarren, and sank it into his back.

He whirled with a roar, backhanding me in the jaw, sending me flying. I hit the deck and rolled into the railing, crying out as everything blazed with pain. I couldn’t keep this up. I was just about done. But I had to keep fighting. For Zeke, and Kanin, and everyone in Eden, I couldn’t let Sarren win.

I raised my head and caught a glint of metal, lying an arm’s length away. My sword. I tried to move, to reach for it, but footsteps echoed over the deck, and a shadow fell over me.

I looked up. Sarren stood there, pale and terrible in the darkness. He held Zeke against him, one arm circling his throat, gazing down at me over his shoulder. Zeke’s hands were empty of weapons, and he clawed futilely at the arm around his neck, his face tight.

“Now, little bird.” Sarren’s voice was a rasp, and he wrenched Zeke’s head back, exposing his throat. I could only watch as Sarren raised his sword arm, the jagged, lethal edge glinting evilly as it prepared to strike. “Watch as I destroy everything you’ve ever loved.”

A barrage of gunfire echoed from the shore ahead, ringing through the darkness and sparking off the deck and railing. Sarren jerked in surprise, hissing as he glanced toward the checkpoint. For a split second, I met Zeke’s eyes, and he gave a tiny nod.

I lunged, snatching my weapon from the deck, and as Sarren turned back, stabbed up with all my might. Through Zeke’s stomach and into Sarren’s heart. Zeke cried out, and Sarren went rigid, his eyes bulging in shock and pain. I yanked my sword free and, as Zeke fell, crumpling at my feet, brought the blade slashing across Sarren’s neck, cutting off his head.

I collapsed to the deck beside Zeke as my strength gave out, as Sarren’s body collapsed like a jerky puppet and went still. His bald head bounced on the deck, rolled over several times, and came to rest a few yards away, the scarred face frozen in an expression of surprise. This time, finally, he wouldn’t be getting up again.

“Zeke.” I pushed myself to an elbow and put a hand on his chest, my voice a ragged whisper. He lay on his back in a pool of blood, his eyes glazed as they stared at the sky. “Can you hear me?”

He grimaced, clenching his jaw, his fangs fully extended in pain. But his hand sought mine and gripped it tightly, his voice urgent as he turned to stare at me.

“Stop the barge, Allison.” A trickle of red streamed from his mouth, and he gritted his teeth. “Hurry. There’s...no time left. I don’t think...I can get up right now. Please.” He squeezed my hand. “It has to be you.”

I nodded wearily. I was so tired. Everything hurt, and I didn’t know if I had the strength to stand, much less turn an entire barge. But I pushed myself to my knees, and then, clenching my jaw, shoved myself upright. Hunger roared like fire through my veins, and every step was torture, but I staggered across the deck and practically fell against the open shipping container we had chained to the deck.

Putting bloody hands against the wall, I pushed. Nothing happened, except the bright jolt of agony slicing through me like a knife, and the Hunger that shrieked in my veins. Gritting my teeth, I tried again, closing my eyes against the pain, but the box stubbornly refused to budge.

I slumped against the wall, closing my eyes. I couldn’t do it. I was too weak, in too much pain, and I had no strength left. I’m sorry, Zeke, I thought, sliding down the metal, despair and grief clogging the back of my throat. I wanted to spend forever with you.

You can do this.

Blinking, I opened my eyes. The deck was empty, I was alone on the side of the ship. But I was almost certain I’d heard his voice, low and confident, like he was standing right beside me.

You are my last offspring, my legacy to this world. You are a Master vampire, Allison. I hope that, whatever your choice, whatever path you choose, you will remain that same girl I met that night in the rain. The one decision for which I have no regrets.

“Kanin,” I whispered, my throat tightening once more. Glaring at the metal wall, I bared my fangs. “I won’t let you down.”

Putting my shoulder against the steel once more, I closed my eyes and pushed, ignoring the pain, the Hunger that consumed me. For seconds, the container didn’t move. Then there was a rusty screech as the box shifted, just a few inches, but it was enough. I threw myself into the task, pushing with all my might, thinking of Kanin, Zeke, Caleb, even Jackal. All the people who had brought me this far. I would not fail them. I would, as a now-dead psychopath had put so eloquently, beat my wings against the coming dark until it swallowed me whole, or I drove it back entirely.

The metal container screeched horribly as it slid across the deck, stopping at the very edge of the barge. I paused, gathered the last of my strength, and shoved as hard as I could. The huge box tipped on its side, seemed to teeter at the edge of the deck, and finally went over, hitting the dark waters with a tremendous splash.

I crumpled to the deck once more, listening to the chain rattle over the side as the container sank beneath the surface, hopefully filling with water. It was done. I didn’t know if I’d gotten to it in time, if it would be enough to turn the barge, but there was nothing more I could do. As I lay there, I thought I could feel the barge turning...turning...agonizingly slow. But I couldn’t be certain.

And then there was a deafening, grinding crunch that shook the deck, as the huge ship finally ran aground. The barge shuddered violently, metal screeching, wood snapping, sounding like it was tearing itself apart, before it finally stopped moving. I thought I heard shouts and cries from the shore, gunfire booming into the night, and knew I should get up, try to help. I ached, badly, but I was healing, and in no danger of hibernation. At least not yet.

But, Zeke...

Suddenly frantic, I pushed myself upright and half crawled, half staggered over to where Zeke lay, collapsing beside him. His face was slack, but at my touch, he stirred, and his eyes opened. Bright with Hunger, glazed over with pain, but alive.

“Allie?” His gaze sought mine, worried and anxious even through the Hunger. “Did it work?” he whispered. “Did you turn the ship in time?”

“I don’t know,” I whispered back. Raising my head, I stared past the deck, but couldn’t see anything beyond the railing but trees. “I did everything I could.”

“Well, you did cut it a bit close, there, runts,” said a clear, familiar voice, as a shadow fell over me. “Another couple hundred feet, and it would’ve been a massacre. Which, don’t get me wrong, I’m usually all for, but not when I’m on the losing side.”

I looked up. Jackal stood over us, wearing his usual smirk, an assault rifle held casually to one shoulder. Raw, open wounds glimmered on his cheeks, and the sickly black veins had spread from his jaw to the side of his face, but he stood tall and proud there on the deck, shaking his head at me. His duster billowed out behind him, and his gold eyes shone in the darkness.

“Jackal,” I whispered, as he raised a sardonic eyebrow. “You’re...still here? I thought you took off....”

He snorted. “With Requiem on the loose? Where would I go, exactly? We had to stop it here, but I figured if Sarren killed us all, the damn plague would begin the second the barge hit land and the rabids got loose. I knew I wouldn’t be any help in taking on the psychopath. So, I implemented a backup plan. That way, if he managed to kill you all, at least I could warn the meatsacks what was coming.”

“That was your plan?” I glared at him, remembering what he’d said on the boat, right before he pulled away and vanished over the waves. “I thought you were abandoning us! Why didn’t you just tell me that earlier?”

Jackal gave me a smug grin. “And miss out on those lovely rants you do so well? What fun would that be?”

“Wait a minute.” Zeke struggled to sit up, his expression incredulous and skeptical. “You...you’re telling me you left to warn the town. To save the humans?”

“Don’t read too much into it, puppy,” Jackal sneered. “I don’t want Requiem to spread any more than you. It would put a rather large damper on my plans if everyone up and died. So, yes, I left to warn the bloodbags, who all agreed that we should try to stop this thing. Maybe pick off as many rabids as we could before they hit shore.” He raised his assault rifle. “That’s when I saw you and your girlfriend on deck with Sarren, getting your asses kicked, and thought I’d intervene. You’re welcome, by the way. I’m just a little sad I didn’t get to see Sarren’s face when it finally left his scrawny neck.” He snorted and looked at the pale, crumpled corpse lying several yards away. The head was nowhere in sight, having rolled off the deck when the ship ran aground. One corner of Jackal’s lip curled in a satisfied grin, before he sobered. “Too bad the old man never got to see it.”

A lump caught in my throat, even as I blinked at him. “You know.”

“I have a blood tie, too, sister.” Jackal smirked at me, though it lacked the bite of before. “I felt when the old bastard finally kicked it. It seemed to be what he wanted, so I’m guessing Sarren wasn’t the one who did him in. How’d it happen, anyway?”

I swallowed hard. “Kanin,” I began, trying to keep my voice steady, “discovered the cure...was inside him.” Jackal’s eyebrows arched, and an incredulous look crossed his face as I continued. “That he carried the cure for Requiem in his blood. He gave his life to make sure the virus wouldn’t spread to the rest of the world, that it would end right here.” My eyes went blurry, and I blinked hard to clear them, my voice coming out a little choked. “He saved us. He saved everything.”

“Huh.” Jackal blinked at me, his expression unreadable. Turning, he gazed back toward the platform, where the rabids had been minutes before. “Well, old man.” He sighed, and his voice wasn’t smug, or sarcastic, or mocking. “You’ve been waiting for this day since the rabids were first created. I hope you found your peace.”

Suddenly, he winced, sinking down on the deck, the assault rifle clattering beside him. Alarmed, I straightened, reaching out to steady him, but Jackal slumped to his back on the deck, putting an arm over his face. I could see the ugly bite wound on his neck, glimmering and black, turning the skin around it dark.

“Well, isn’t this fucking hilarious.” He sighed as the wind blew over the railing, swirling around three vampires slumped together on deck. “We saved a bunch of bleating meatsacks, killed a psychopath who is older than dirt, stopped another world-destroying plague...and we still don’t have the cure. God really does hate us, after all.” He sighed again, letting his other arm rest on his stomach, like he was just getting ready to take a nap. “Seeing as this is probably my last hurrah, I don’t suppose I could get you two bleeding hearts to massacre a village with me? For old time’s sake.”

“No,” I said, as Zeke frowned beside me. Though I was starving, and I would have to feed soon, as would Zeke. Hopefully, Dr. Thomas could spare a real blood bag or two. “You’re not going to slaughter the humans we worked so hard to save,” I told Jackal, who snorted without looking at me. “Besides, you’re not going to die.”

“Oh?” He lowered his arm, eyeing me with resignation. “Got the cure up your sleeve, then, sister?”

“Actually, I think I do.”

They both stared at me. I looked at Zeke, and Jackal, and felt that tiny flicker of hope grow steadily into a rising flame. Kanin had been injected with Zeke’s blood in New Covington, but he wasn’t the only one. Just to be certain, I felt along my neck where the infected rabid had bitten me, finding smooth, unbroken skin, and smiled.

“I’m a Master vampire,” I said, to their stunned expressions. “The cure is inside me, as well.”

Chapter 20

I woke up on a table.

Opening my eyes, I winced as an overhead light blazed down on me, making me hiss and turn away, shielding my face. The surface under my back felt hard and smooth, metallic. Confused, I struggled upright, squinting against the brightness, wondering where I was.

“Ah, Miss Allison. You’re awake.”

A man came forward, dressed in a long white coat, the light reflecting off his glasses. His arm hung in a sling, and a bandage covered one side of his head, but I blinked in recognition. “Dr. Richardson?”

He nodded, and the rest of the room came into focus, small and white, with tile floors and shelves full of sharp instruments. The surface I lay on was a metal table, shiny and smelling faintly of chemicals and blood. My stomach gave a jolt as I realized where I was. Somehow, I was back in the lab.

I groped back for my sword and found it missing, as well. Glaring at the scientist, I growled and bared my fangs. “You should’ve tied me down if you thought you were going to keep me here,” I said as the human’s eyes widened.

“Easy.” Richardson held up his uninjured hand. “Calm down, girl. It’s not what you think.”

“Where are Jackal and Zeke?”

“They’re fine! They’re both fine. Please, calm down.”

“Both of them?”

“Yes.” The scientist gave a firm nod. “Both of them.” He sighed as I relaxed a bit, retracting my fangs. They were okay. Even Jackal was all right. “And we’re not going to keep you here,” Richardson went on, gesturing to the door, which lay open and unguarded. “You can leave whenever you want. Just hear me out.”

“Where are we?” I asked, trying to remember the final few minutes of the night before. After the ship had run aground, most of the rabids had fled into the woods or joined the swarm still lingering around the checkpoint gates. Jackal, I discovered later, had taken a small boat out to the crippled barge rather than fight his way through the horde. We’d returned to the checkpoint the same way and found a platoon of soldiers waiting for us, thankfully with an ample supply of blood bags and no citizens around to tempt us. Jackal, apparently, had told them what to prepare for when we returned.

After downing two—just enough to heal and keep the Hunger at bay—I had returned to the hospital with Jackal and Zeke. Hendricks had been waiting for us, but with Jackal in such a bad way, I’d sent Zeke to deal with the mayor while I hunted down Dr. Thomas and forced him to help the sickening vampire. The little human hadn’t said anything when I’d ordered him to draw my blood and inject it into Jackal, clearly terrified now that there were three vampires to contend with instead of only one.

After that, with dawn less than an hour away, the rest of the conversation had become somewhat of a blur. I remembered meeting with Mayor Hendricks and Zeke, remembered telling them about the cure, and the mayor had asked if I was willing to offer a bit of my blood for research. After making him swear that they would not be using me for a lab experiment, I’d agreed.

And then I’d woken up here.

“Is this Eden?” I asked in amazement, but Dr. Richardson shook his head.

“No, this is still the checkpoint,” he answered, and offered a wry smile. “Trust me, I was just as confused when I woke up in the hospital and not on the island. After you four vampires left me at the lab, I thought I was going to die. I holed up near the power plant until I passed out from blood loss.” He shook his head. “But, as it turns out, it wasn’t quite my time. A squad came for me early this morning, said that one of the vampires had told them where to find me, and that Mayor Hendricks had personally ordered my retrieval.”

“Why?”

“Because of you, vampire.” The scientist’s voice was grave. “Because of what you told them, about Requiem. About the cure. They needed someone who understood the research, who worked firsthand with the virus. I came here with a slight concussion and a broken arm, and they still had me begin work as soon as the painkillers kicked in, and I was lucid enough to stand.” His eyes gleamed behind his glasses as he stared at me. “Of course, if I’d realized what they had, what they wanted me to do, I would’ve started as soon as I woke up, broken arm or no. To think...” He stared at me, appraising. “After all this time, the answer was right in front of us. If we’d only understood vampires a little more.”

“You mean the research,” I guessed. “The failed vampire experiments.”

“Yes.” Richardson nodded. “The key was vampire blood. That’s what we always thought, but we were only half correct. Normal vampire blood wouldn’t do it. Type 2 and 3 vampires still create rabids when they try to produce offspring. We needed something stronger, something more powerful, to overcome the Rabidism virus. But you know that now, don’t you? You realized the missing link.”

Before I could reply, he turned and stepped to the counter behind him, picking up something with a clink. When he turned back, a vial glinted from his fingers as he held it up, full of something that shone a dark red under the lights.

“Your blood,” he murmured. “The blood of a Master vampire, combined with the experimental vaccinations we gave to Zeke Crosse before he left, all those months ago. It hasn’t been tested yet, not on a human, anyway. But you already injected that Jackal fellow, and he’s on his way to a full recovery now. So, based on that, and the research I was able to perform...” He paused, staring at the vial, his voice going faint with awe, with hope. “This...is our cure. We finally have a cure.”

Eden celebrated that night. Somehow, though the mayor and the doctor had wished to keep it quiet for now, word of the cure had leaked out of the hospital and spread like wildfire through the masses. Despite near-starvation circumstances, cases of alcohol were mysteriously unearthed from somewhere, and hunting parties had managed to return with several deer that afternoon, so the mood of the camp was jubilant. Bonfires were lit throughout the camp, and humans milled around and laughed and talked, uncaring of the few vampires who walked among them now.

I hung back from the crowds, leery of the huge fires but also not wanting to be around that many humans drunk on alcohol and giddiness. Their excited voices trickled to me as I moved through shadows, hearing snippets of conversation, about the cure, and Eden, and going home.

I couldn’t join their celebration. We had a cure. The one thing both humans and vampires had searched for, sought after, desperately needed, for six decades. Dr. Richardson had told me that, if the cure worked as he expected, any human injected with the vaccine should be rendered immune to Rabidism. It wouldn’t “cure” the rabids and turn them human again; the rabids were already dead, and death was the one thing you couldn’t cure. But it would nullify the disease and make it so the rabid couldn’t pass Rabidism on to living creatures. If you could get close enough to inject it with the cure, anyway. And a vampire who was given the vaccine would no longer be a carrier of Rabidism and would, in theory, be able to create offspring again. It wasn’t perfect, but it was a start. I should’ve been happy.

But the cost was high. For me, anyway. The humans didn’t know. They would never understand the sacrifice that had been made so that they could live—so that we all could live.

I wished he could be here now, to see it.

Wandering the perimeter of the camp, I spotted the person I was looking for near the edge of the light and made my way toward him. Zeke also hung back from the crowds, talking to a pair of humans in the shadows. As I got closer, I recognized them, or one of them, anyway. Silent Jake, tall, dark and leaning on a crutch, shook Zeke’s hand before hobbling away with a dark-haired woman, her arm wrapped protectively around his waist. Zeke smiled faintly as I approached, his gaze distant as he watched them limp away.

“Hey, you,” I said softly, touching his elbow.

“Allie.” His voice was low, relieved, as he turned. Without hesitation, he stepped forward and kissed me, one hand pressed to the small of my back, the other against my cheek. I closed my eyes and relaxed into him, letting myself feel safe, that we had won, if only for a moment.

“Dr. Richardson told me you were awake,” he said as we pulled back, his blue eyes intense as he gazed down at me. “Are you all right?”

I nodded. “What about you?” I asked, running a hand across his chest, the place he’d been run through, twice. He seemed fine now. No wounds, no scars or even bloodstains. For the first time, I was relieved that Zeke was a vampire. Had he been human, he would definitely have been killed.

Zeke smiled grimly. “I’m all right. Took four bags of blood before I felt normal again, and I gave Dr. Thomas the shock of his life when he came to examine me. Mayor Hendricks didn’t mind, because we’d just saved his town but...I think it’s safe to say that everyone knows I’m a vampire now.”

I stroked his cheek, my voice sympathetic. “Are you okay with that?”

“It’s getting better.” He leaned into my touch. “The people here don’t trust me anymore, but I don’t blame them. They knew me as a human, but now that I’m a vampire, they don’t know what to think. I guess I’ll have to prove myself to them, to everyone, just like you did with us.”

“You plan to stay, then.”

He nodded. “Until Eden is back on its feet, at least. After that...” He shrugged. “I don’t know. I don’t know if they’ll let me stay here, if they’ll let us stay here. I guess we’ll have to play it by ear, then.”

“Zeke Crosse?”

We turned. A woman stood behind him, not old but quite weathered, looking battered by hardship and life. Her light brown hair was pulled behind her, and her left hand was wrapped in bandages. Zeke broke away from me, his eyes going wide as he faced her.

“Mrs. Brooks! I didn’t know you were here. They said you had gotten off the island, but...” He paused, raking a hand through his hair, his voice thick with guilt. “I’m so sorry about your husband. And...and Matthew. I should have been there—”

She raised her hand. “Is it true what they say?” she almost whispered, though her voice was matter-of-fact. Zeke winced, shoulders hunching, as the woman continued. “That...that you’re a vampire now. Is that true?”

He bowed his head. “Yes, ma’am.”

She trembled, looking like she would flee if she could, but didn’t back away. “You’ve killed people,” she prodded, like she desperately hoped Zeke would disagree, prove her wrong. “To...to feed yourself.”

“Yes.”

Her face went pale, the last of her courage seeming to disappear. “Monster,” she whispered, and I had to bite my lip to keep myself from pushing forward and snarling in her face. You want a monster? I thought furiously. I’ll show you a monster. You’re looking at the wrong person. But Zeke didn’t say anything, only stood there with his head bowed, accepting the accusation. The woman didn’t turn and flee, either, staring at Zeke as if trying to see the demon in him.

“And yet...” She hesitated a moment. “Caleb and Bethany tell me that you saved them on Eden. Saved them from that horrible vampire who wanted to kill everyone. Who killed my husband and son...” She broke off with a sob, wiping her eyes, before composing herself. Zeke peeked up, his eyes cautiously hopeful, but the woman didn’t see.

“If that is true,” she went on, “if you saved the other half of my family, then I can’t hate you, Zeke. Even if you are a vampire. But...I do fear you. I’m afraid of what you might do to my children. They think so highly of you. They don’t understand what could really happen.”

“I would never hurt them,” Zeke said huskily.

“I know you believe that.” She nodded, looking defeated. “They want to see you,” she went on, and Zeke jerked up. “Caleb...is quite insistent. They were both devastated when you left, and I don’t feel right, keeping them away from the boy who brought them to Eden, who looked after them their whole life. You were their family before I was. I can’t keep them from you.”

She sniffled and looked behind her, to where a female soldier stood a little ways away, holding the hands of two familiar faces. Caleb beamed and waved wildly to us, and his mother gave Zeke a pleading, teary look.

“Please, don’t hurt my children, Ezekiel,” she whispered, and moved back as the soldier released the kids. Bethany hesitated, but Caleb pelted forward at full speed, coming right at us. Zeke stiffened, and I quickly moved behind him, placing a hand on his back.

“You’re okay,” I breathed so that only he could hear me. “I’m right here.”

And then I had to move aside, as Caleb crashed into Zeke, wrapping both arms around his legs and rocking him back a step. “Whoa! Hey, easy there, rug rat.” He steadied them both, though I could see his shoulders were tight, his face carefully controlled. “Man, you’ve gotten big. What’ve you been eating lately?”

“You left!” Caleb accused, peering up at him, his jaw set and angry, and Zeke blinked in surprise. “You left me,” the boy went on, though he still didn’t release his grip on Zeke’s legs. “Just like Ruth. Just like Allison.” He spared me the glare of an indignant six-year-old, before turning on Zeke again. “You promised we’d all live together in Eden. Why did you go?”

Zeke sighed. Gently freeing himself, he knelt so that he was face-to-face with Caleb. Bethany, coming up behind him, waved shyly, and Zeke smiled at her, holding out an arm to draw her close.

“I had to,” he explained to them both. “I had to go find Allison and bring her back. You understand that, right? I wasn’t going to leave forever.”

They nodded, though Caleb’s bottom lip still jutted out stubbornly. “You guys have a family now,” Zeke continued. “You have parents, and goats, and a house, and everything. Allie didn’t have any of that. That’s why I wanted to bring her to Eden. She needed a home, just like you.”

I smiled wistfully. Home and family. Zeke had known, even before I did, how important that was. That I’d longed for both; a family that wouldn’t leave me, and a place to belong. I’d found them, with Zeke, Kanin, even Jackal. I was a vampire, and I belonged in the darkness, but that was all right. I wasn’t alone anymore. And my path, as my sire always told me, was my own.

Bethany nodded silently, accepting Zeke’s explanation, but Caleb looked thoughtful. “Are you a vampire now?” he asked simply, gazing up at Zeke with wide, innocent eyes. “Like Allison?”

Zeke flinched, but nodded. “Yes,” he said softly. “So, that means I can’t be around you guys as much anymore, okay? You might not see me for a long time, but that doesn’t mean I left, or that I don’t care about you anymore. It just means...that I’m a vampire. I don’t want to hurt you.”

Caleb chewed his lip for a moment, pondering this. Bethany looked a little frightened at the mention of vampires, but with everything she’d been through, you couldn’t blame her. Even if this was Zeke.

“Do you have fangs?” Caleb asked suddenly. Zeke blinked, gave him a wary look.

“Yes.”

“I wanna see.”

Now he did pull back, stiffening. “Caleb...”

“I wanna see!” Caleb pressed forward, his face earnest. “The pastor says vampires are bad and evil, but I don’t believe him. Allison is a vampire, and she’s not bad. But everyone is scared of you now, even Mom.” His lip stuck out defiantly. “Show me, Zeke. I wanna see if it makes you different.”

Caleb’s mother had come forward, her face tight with fear, but Zeke held up a hand. “It’s all right,” he said, glancing at her. “Let me show him. Maybe he’ll understand better, then.”

Her face turned white, but she gave a stiff nod. Zeke sighed, bowing his head, then raised it again, curling his lips back. His fangs gleamed in the darkness, bright and lethal, and Bethany skittered back with a shriek.

Caleb didn’t move. He faced Zeke calmly, regarding the fangs bared in his direction with a furrowed brow, as if searching for something.

Slowly, one small hand rose, touching Zeke’s jaw, and Zeke jerked back, his eyes going wide with astonishment. Caleb held his gaze, frowning, then shook his head.

“No,” he said simply, as if this was something he’d known all along. “You’re still the same.”

Zeke’s eyes closed. With a short breath, he pulled Caleb against him, bowing his head. After a moment, Bethany stepped up to join them, leaning against his shoulder, and he wrapped an arm around her, as well. I blinked red from my eyes and stepped back to give them space.

A dark, lean shadow moved across the trees, away from the crowds, heading in the direction of the lake, and I frowned. It was Jackal. I hadn’t seen my blood brother since he’d been injected with my blood, and I’d been intending to check how he was doing once I caught up to Zeke. I was less worried about him than I had been; even wounded in a city of unsuspecting mortals, he’d proven he knew how to control himself, sometimes even better than me. The only question was his willingness to behave, to not give in to the monster.

Where was he going now?

Curious, I followed, pausing only once to glance back at Zeke and the children. He was on his feet again, talking to Caleb’s mother, the two kids pressed close. He met my gaze over her shoulder, smiled and nodded for me to go on. He’d be all right. The monster had no hold on him, at least not right now.

I slipped down the bank, following the shoreline past the dock, to where a lone, tall figure stood at the edge of the water. The breeze tugged at his dark hair, and his duster billowed and flapped behind him as he gazed out over the waves. A strange prickle ran up my spine. For just a moment, with him standing motionless and silent at the water’s edge, he reminded me, very faintly, of Kanin.

I shook myself, wondering where that had come from, and stepped forward.

“Hey,” I greeted, making him turn. The black wounds were still there, on his cheeks and brow, but they were mere shadows of what they had been, and the dark veins covering his neck were gone completely. “Looks like you survived.”

“Disappointed, sister?” Jackal smirked at me, looking like his old self. “I told you, I always come out on top, no matter what.”

“Like a bad penny.” I looked past him and saw a rowboat a few yards away, ready to be shoved into the water. My heart gave a lurch with the realization, surprising me with its reluctance to see him go. “You’re leaving, I suppose.”

“Yeah.” Jackal glanced behind him, staring over the waters of the lake. “Past time, I think. We killed Sarren, found the cure, and saved the world from another superplague. I’m about to choke on all this goodwill.” He turned back to me, grinning. “Figured I’d leave before I got too bored and started making my own fun. You and the puppy probably wouldn’t like that.”

“You could still stay,” I said. “Help rebuild Eden.”

He snorted a laugh. “Please. Stay and help a bunch of sweaty meatsacks with manual labor? Not my scene, sister. You should know me better by now.”

“Yeah, silly me, thinking you might not be a complete bastard after all.” I smiled and rolled my eyes. “So, where are you going? You’ve been cured of Rabidism. I suppose you’re off to raise that vampire army.”

“Well....” Jackal scratched the side of his neck. “I’ve been thinking about that. And I realized, to make it work, I’d have to get a whole new batch of minions. I’m certainly not going to use my former toadies, not when the little shits tried to kill me. I’d have to go back to Old Chicago, kill everyone there, and start over from scratch. And that seems like a hell of a lot of work.” Jackal shook his head. “Ruling a city of murdering, backstabbing humans sounds a lot easier than ruling a city of murdering, backstabbing vampires. And I think I deserve a vacation. Maybe I’ll revisit the idea in a century or two. Right now, I’m going to take a break from all this saving the world shit and relax. Maybe travel awhile, see what’s out there. I always wanted to see Europe. Apparently, the vampires there are the real deal. Some of them can trace their bloodline all the way back to the first bloodsucker himself. It’d be interesting to see what they can do, how they run things.” He grinned at me, showing fangs. “I don’t suppose I could get you to come with me.”

“No.” I shook my head. “I’m staying in Eden with Zeke, until the city is back on its feet, anyway.”

“Ah, well. Can’t say I didn’t try.” Jackal stepped back, raising a hand in a mock salute. “See you around, sister. Have fun with your bloodbags. And tell the puppy that if he ever wants my head, I’m ready for him anytime.”

“Hey,” I called, as he started toward the boat. He turned back, raising an eyebrow: a tall, lean vampire silhouetted against the night, golden eyes shining in the dark. “Thanks,” I said quietly. “For sticking around.”

My blood brother snorted. “Don’t go soft on me, little sister,” he warned, and his tone was only half teasing. “You’re a Master now. If we ever run into each other again, I won’t go easy on you.”

I smiled. “Looking forward to it.”

Then I turned and walked away, and Jackal stepped up to the rowboat, shoving it into the water. I didn’t stop, continuing up the bank, back to Zeke, the humans, and the light. Jackal—my blood brother, Kanin’s other prodigy, and the raider king of Old Chicago—continued to glide into the darkness. I felt the pulse through our blood tie drifting farther and farther away, until I could barely sense him anymore.

It took several weeks before people could return to Eden. Even with Sarren dead and Requiem halted, Eden was still infested with rabids, and none of the humans could return until they were destroyed. Digging them up during the day would take forever, but going after them at night was extremely dangerous. We could have waited for Requiem to run its course; eventually the rabids would have died from the disease, but there were no supplies left at the checkpoint, and the mayor didn’t want to risk a rabid getting off the island now that their fear of deep water was gone. Plus, it seemed to be taking an abnormally long time for the rabids to succumb to the virus, longer than it had taken the bleeders or even the infected vampires to die. Perhaps that was part of Sarren’s design, his plan to spread Requiem as far as he could, but whatever the reason, the mayor wanted the rabids destroyed as soon as possible. So of course, we volunteered.

It had been Zeke’s idea to set a trap; use blood to lure the horde to where we wanted them, then ambush and kill them all. The flames from the burning building stung my skin and could be seen for miles, and the stench of charred rabid flesh lingered on the wind for hours afterward, but it took out a sizable chunk of the horde. After several more forays into the city, hunting down the remaining rabids, making certain we got them all, the mayor finally announced that people could return to their homes.

Even then, it would still be a long time before Eden got back to normal. Many lives had been lost, homes and families torn apart, and devastation left in the wake of the attack. Zeke and I helped where we could, but it was obvious that the people of Eden were still leery of us, despite the mayor giving us full citizenship, and our presence was often looked upon with fear and anger. For all we’d done for Eden, we were still vampires.

Still, we stayed, through the winter and on into spring. Sometimes, I thought of Kanin, and wondered what my sire would think if he could see me now. Zeke reconnected with his family and visited Caleb and Bethany when he could, though never alone, and never for long. He was at peace with himself now, content with his new status as a vampire, but he never forgot what he truly was, and what he could do. I made a few friends on Eden, Mayor Hendricks, for one, and Dr. Richardson, who seemed fascinated with vampires and wanted to learn all he could about them. He also provided Zeke and I with blood bags as often as we needed them. And as time passed, the people of Eden began to see us less as monsters and more as curiosities; we were dangerous, yes, and could easily kill a human, but we also guarded and protected the city. Not to mention, we had saved it from a superplague and driven off all the rabids. So, we couldn’t be completely evil. Eventually, Zeke and I were granted a very cautious acceptance and became just another part of the city. Eden’s resident vampires.

Zeke and I were together constantly. It was strange; the more times we shared blood, shared ourselves and our emotions, the deeper the bond grew and the harder I fell for him. I’d once wondered if I could ever trust someone enough to stay with them for a lifetime; now, forever with Zeke didn’t seem nearly long enough.

Still, even though I was happy with Zeke, more content than I’d been in a long time, I was restless. The laboratory had been fixed, one of the first buildings to be restored, and every human in the city was in line to receive the vaccine as often as it could be synthesized. Eden would soon be immune to Rabidism, but what about everyone else? The rest of the world knew nothing about the cure, that it even existed. Who would tell them? Who could tell them, with the country so infested with rabids, vampires and other monsters?

I knew the answer, of course. Though it was hard to think about; the enormity of the task was simply staggering. If the world was ever going to be normal again, someone had to go out there and take the cure to everyone. Eden shone like a beacon of hope in the darkness, a safe haven for its residents, but it couldn’t reach the whole world. No, that burden would have to fall to someone else. Someone who cared about saving both humans and vampires. Someone with a lot of time on their hands.

Now, it is your turn to leave your own mark on the world.

So, I would.

I stood at the edge of a lonely dock, cool wind tugging at my hair and coat, gazing over the dark waters of Lake Erie. Beside me, a simple rowboat bobbed up and down on the waves, knocking quietly against the planks. Empty but for a tiny cooler with a couple blood bags, a handful of syringes, and a case with several vials of the precious vaccine. Dr. Richardson couldn’t spare much of the synthesized version, but I wasn’t worried about running out. As long as I was alive, so was the cure.

A breeze hissed across the lake, warmer now, hinting of rain. Winter was nearly over. It had been almost a year since I’d become a vampire. A year since that night in the rain, where I’d died in Kanin’s arms and begun a new life. Who would’ve thought that cynical, jaded street rat would end up here, a vampire ready to set out into the world, following the footsteps of her sire?

Can you see me, Kanin? I thought, gazing into the darkness. Overhead, the night sky glittered with a million stars, and a full moon peered down at me, a halo of light around it. I hope I’m doing what you wanted, what you tried to teach me. It’s going to take a long time, but I won’t give up, just like you didn’t give up. And I pray that, wherever you are, you’ve finally found your peace.

Footsteps thumped behind me, and Zeke slipped his arms around my waist, drawing me against him. I reached back and looped an arm around his neck as his lips traced my jaw, brushing it softly. My blood stirred at the contact, reacting to his presence, as if recognizing the other half of itself. A feeling of deep contentment stole over me, and I leaned against him.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” I whispered, closing my eyes against his touch. He nodded.

“We’ve done all we can here,” he murmured back. “Eden is safe. Mayor Hendricks told me the last of its citizens will receive the vaccine tomorrow. Most the buildings have been repaired, and they have enough supplies to last the rest of the winter. Spring is coming,” he added, brushing a kiss against my ear. “The planting season will start soon. They don’t need vampires for that.”

“Have you said goodbye to Caleb and Bethany?”

“Oh, yes.” He chuckled. “You should’ve heard the tantrum Caleb threw. Guilt, tears, the whole song and dance. He even threatened not to like me anymore if I left. But I promised we’d come back. Someday.” He sounded amused and sad at the same time. “Though he might be grown up with kids of his own when I see him and Bethany again.”

Feeling a little guilty, I turned in his arms, gazing up at him. This was Zeke’s home. I didn’t want to do this alone, couldn’t imagine being without him, but I wouldn’t drag him on an endless journey if he wasn’t absolutely sure he wanted to go.

“Are you really certain this is what you want?”

“Yes, Allison.” Zeke put a hand on my cheek, his eyes intent. “I’m certain. We finally have a cure, but the rest of the world needs to know about it. It’s up to us to spread the word, to let humans know they don’t have to live in fear. Eventually, people will populate the world again, and things can be like they were Before. They’ll have to figure out how to live with the vampires, how to coexist, if that’s even possible. But it has to start somewhere.” He took my hand and held it to his chest. “This is the beginning, right here. With us.”

“It could take a long time,” I said, not to discourage him, but as a warning. “A very, very long time. We might never be finished, Zeke. It could take forever.”

He smiled, lowered his head, and kissed me. Long and lingering, a promise full of love, and courage, and hope.

“I love you, vampire girl,” he whispered as he drew back. “And forever is exactly what we have.”