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The Forever Song
The Forever Song

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The Forever Song

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

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

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

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

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

“Enough!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A shot rang out in the darkness.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

My insides went cold.

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

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

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

A few things happened all at once.

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

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

“Allison!”

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

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

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

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

“You must. I’ll be right behind you.”

“Kanin...”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

* * *

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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