Authors: Julie Kagawa
“And you,” Jackal interrupted, turning on me, “are part of the problem. Bitching and crying because he’s not acting like a human anymore. Here’s a news flash, sister. He’s
not
human anymore. He doesn’t need you holding his hand every time a kitten dies. Maybe when he was a mewling, pathetic meatsack, he needed some kind of protection, but he’s one of us now. Or he would be, if you didn’t act like it was the end of the world because he likes the taste of blood. Stop treating him like a mortal and let him be a bloody vampire.”
Taken aback, I fell silent, and for a moment, we all stared at each other. The wind picked up, blowing the scent of death and mutilated corpses into the road, and the rabids lay scattered around us like fallen limbs, bloody and broken. It caught Jackal’s duster, causing it to billow out behind him as he glared at us, his expression twisted with mockery and disgust. Behind him, Zeke’s face had gone blank again, glassy blue eyes staring out at nothing.
Then Kanin stepped into the circle, his voice weary but calm. “Dawn is nearly upon us,” he said, giving no hints to his thoughts, his feelings about the sudden outburst between his two offspring. “I suggest we get out of the open. This conversation will have to wait until tomorrow night.”
That ended it. With a final, disgusted snort, Jackal turned and stalked off down the road, shaking his head. He didn’t look back, and within moments, the raider king had slipped between the sea of scattered cars and disappeared from sight.
“Allison.” Kanin looked at me, his dark eyes impassive. “Take Ezekiel and find a place to sleep. Try to stay close. I’ll find you both this evening.”
“Right,” I murmured, and Kanin too, disappeared, melting into the darkness surrounding us, leaving me and Zeke alone.
I glanced at Zeke, who hadn’t moved from his spot next to the car, and jerked my head toward a peeling, two-story house on the corner of the street. “Come on,” I said quietly. “Let’s get out of the open.”
He didn’t say anything, just followed me across the road, over a sagging picket fence, and through a weed-choked yard to the steps of the house. Inside, rubble covered the floor, and the walls were cracked and peeling, showing rotting boards beneath, but it was in better shape than most empty houses I’d seen. A fireplace sat crumbling against the back wall, bricks scattered over the floor, and a gutted armchair lay overturned in front of it, covered in moss.
I spotted a staircase against a wall and motioned Zeke toward it, knowing the bedrooms would probably be on the second floor. The creaking, groaning stairs took us to an equally noisy hallway, with a trio of doors that led to individual rooms. The largest had a rusty brass bed and a mattress big enough for two people, but it also had several windows that faced east and nothing to cover them with. The room across the hall was smaller, but its one window was already boarded up, so in that regard, it was an easy choice. Of course, there were other factors to take into account.
A single bed sat in the corner, dusty but fairly clean, and I hesitated, not knowing if Zeke wanted to share the mattress with me. Or, honestly, if
I
wanted to be in the same room with him. Jackal’s words still clawed at my mind, the accusation that I was making this worse, that I couldn’t let Human Zeke go. I didn’t want to admit it, but as infuriating and shameful and humbling as it was, my blood brother was right. I’d wanted Zeke to be like he was before, and that just wasn’t possible. Not with what he had gone through.
It also confirmed something I’d known for a while now, but refused to believe: Zeke Crosse, the boy I knew before, the human I’d fallen in love with,
was
dead. I had to accept that. Just like Allie the Fringer had died that night in the rain with the rabids, Ezekiel Crosse was no longer human. He wasn’t the same; he couldn’t be. He was a vampire now, with all the bloodlust, Hunger, savagery and ruthlessness that came with it. He would never be the same sweet, innocent, selfless human I had known and loved. There would always be an edge to him, the knowledge that he was something dangerous, something lethal. That a demon lurked within and could come out at anytime. Was that something I could come to terms with? And, even more important, could he?
Or would I wake up this evening to find him gone, having finally chosen to meet the sun rather than put those in Eden at risk?
Angry, frustrated tears stung my eyes. I growled softly and clenched my fists, trying to drive them back. I was losing him. Zeke was slipping further and further away, and nothing I said or did could reach him. I’d told him how I felt; I’d laid everything bare, promised I would help him fight the monster, that he wouldn’t be alone, and it didn’t seem to be enough. I didn’t know what more I could do, what else I could offer.
“Hey.”
His voice was a breath, a flutter across my cold skin. I froze, then turned to find him watching me, blue eyes solemn in the shadows of the room. I swallowed, meeting his gaze, not caring about the single track of red crawling down my cheek. Zeke’s expression tightened, a flicker of guilt and regret crossing his face. He looked like he wanted to say something, but couldn’t find the right words. I didn’t speak, just continued to watch him, and there was a moment of tense, awkward silence.
Then Zeke sighed, and the shadow of a wry, painful smile crossed his lips. “You know it’s the end of the world when Jackal starts making sense,” he whispered.
The wall between us shattered. I let out a choked, relieved laugh and fell into him. His arms enveloped me, pressing me close, and I clung to his waist, feeling his cool cheek against my neck.
“I’m sorry, Allie,” he murmured. Raising his head, he pressed his forehead to mine, his voice low but steady. “I’m so sorry. I’ve been so consumed with this whole vampire thing, I didn’t see you standing right there. And if I’d just listened, you were telling me exactly what I needed to hear.” His brow creased in what might’ve been regret, or disgust. “It’s…pretty bad when the egotistical murdering vampire has to set you straight. I guess I had that kick in the head coming for a while. At least Jackal is good for something.” A painful chuckle escaped him, and he shook his head. “I was blind, but I see things a little more clearly now. I won’t be a burden anymore.”
“You were never a burden,” I told him. “You were just… lost for a little while. We all were, at one point.”
He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, and his shoulders trembled. “I’m scared,” he whispered. “I’m terrified that I won’t be able to fight this, that I’ll turn into a demon and lose my soul forever, if it’s not already gone. The
only
reason I’m here, the one thing that’s keeping me from going out to meet the sun and ending it for good…is you.”
“Zeke…”
He took my arms, his gaze intense as he stared down at me. “I never wanted this,” he said. “All my life, I was taught that vampires are evil and soulless, and that’s what I believed, until I met you. You showed me that I was wrong, that vampires didn’t have to be monsters, and you even made me believe that they could still have a soul. I know that you still have yours. After everything we’ve been through, you’re still hanging on to it with both hands.”
I bit my lip as tears threatened again, hot and stinging. There it was, that faith that I was more than a monster, even when he couldn’t believe it about himself. Zeke raised a hand to my cheek, brushing it softly with his thumb, still gazing into my eyes.
“I’m not the same person, Allie,” he said quietly. “I’m… not even a
person
anymore. I tried to kill you. I’ve murdered dozens of people, and I’m the offspring of an insane vampire who wants to destroy the world. The only thing that hasn’t changed, the one thing I’m sure of, are my feelings for you. But…I’m different now.” He drew back slightly, as if to let me see him better. “I died, Allison,” he said in a soft, firm voice. “Part of me was killed on that table with Sarren. I’ll still fight for my humanity, as hard as I can, but I know someday I’m going to slip up and give in to the monster. And when that day comes, I’m going to hate myself for a very long time.” He clenched his jaw, his eyes going dark before he composed himself once more. “So, I have to know, vampire girl. Can you still be with me, even after all that? Even though I’m a monster, that I’ll never be the same?”
I didn’t hesitate. I already knew my answer. Zeke was a vampire. He would struggle with Hunger, rage and bloodlust in a way human Zeke could never fathom. But even as a human, he’d chosen to love a monster, and now it was my turn to trust him. To look past the demon and the monster, and find the human inside.
Reaching up, I slipped my arms around his neck, pulled him to me, and pressed my lips to his.
He sighed, and it seemed like it was a release, a letting go of fear, and doubt, and disbelief. A total surrender. His arms slid around me, gentle yet strong, and his lips moved with mine, kissing me back. Not fevered or passionate, trying to devour each other while desperately trying get close; this was tender and thoughtful and solemn, a promise without words.
I kept my eyes closed as we parted, my hands on either side of his face. “I thought I lost you,” I whispered, feeling the wet tracks on his own skin. “I thought we had more time, even though I knew better. Life is so fragile, and someone can be taken from you at any time. I’ve always known that.” I slid my hand down his chest, to the spot where, not long ago, his heart had beat steady and sure against my palm. The stillness there now made me a little sad. “I guess I was trying to protect myself.”
“A llie…”
“I love you, Zeke,” I whispered, and he froze. This time, the words didn’t scare me at all. “Vampire or human, it doesn’t matter to me. Sarren could’ve forced you to kill a hundred humans, and it wouldn’t change a thing. I would’ve come back for you regardless. And you’re wrong. You’re stronger then you think. You were the one who taught me that humanity is worth hanging on to, that it’s worth fighting for at all costs. You always told me that I was more than a monster. Well, now you’re going to have to prove it to yourself. But I’ll be here. I won’t let you fall.”
I finally looked up at him, met those clear blue eyes, saw the raw emotion staring back at me. The doubt and fear still lingered, but for the first time since his death, he looked like Zeke again. I saw the shift from bleak, horror-filled despair to something that, while not completely optimistic, was at least hopeful. I put a hand on his cheek.
“There, preacher boy,” I murmured, and forced a tiny half smirk as he closed his eyes. “I said I love you. Twice. Now, can we please move past this and get on with saving the world?”
He let out a breath that was half laugh, half sob, and yanked me to him, crushing me in his arms. I slid mine around his waist and held him tight, feeling him tremble.
“Don’t let me slip,” he whispered into my neck. “Please. When I get to Eden, don’t let me give in to the monster.”
“I won’t,” I told him, a promise to Zeke, to myself, to everyone. “You’re going to be fine, Zeke. And after we beat Sarren, we’ll have forever to figure this out.”
Moving to the bed, we sank down together, still holding each other tightly. Eden, a mysterious virus, and Zeke’s terrifying sire waited for us at the end of the road, but right now, all that seemed a little less urgent. I had Zeke back. He was different; he was a vampire, but we’d both taken that first step toward acceptance. It was enough for now. As the sun crept over the buildings outside, tinting the sky red and the roofs orange, I drifted off to sleep with the boy who had died held safely in my arms.
I would never let him go again.
As usual, I woke first, opening my eyes to darkness and taking a moment to remember where I was. The room was small, sparse and empty, a boarded-up window and ancient dresser on the far wall, and a body lying next to me in the tiny bed.
Propping myself on an elbow, I watched him. Zeke lay on his back on the edge of the mattress, unmoving and unbreathing, the sleep of the dead. I put a hand over his heart, missing the warmth, the pulse beneath my fingers, the slight rise and fall of his chest. He didn’t stir, and I resisted the urge to shake him, to prod him awake. Both to see him move, and to see if he was the same Zeke I’d fallen asleep with this morning. Would he remember the convictions of a few short hours ago? I knew there was no reason for him to forget, to relapse, but he had been an emotionless zombie for so long, our last conversation almost felt like a dream. Even though vampires didn’t dream.
I didn’t rouse him. Instead, I reached out with my blood tie and found both Kanin and Jackal nearby, probably waiting for us. Kanin would be impatient to get on the road; I wondered if having to wait for younger, less experienced vampires who couldn’t force themselves awake whenever they wanted annoyed him sometimes. I also wondered how far from Eden we were. We had to be close; it hadn’t taken Zeke and I half as long the first time we’d traveled this road. Of course, we’d had a working car the entire way from Chicago.
Preoccupied, I didn’t see Zeke move until cool fingers curled around mine. I blinked and looked down to see his eyes open, gazing up at me in the darkness. He wasn’t smiling, but his gaze was steady and his expression was calm, not the cold, blank mask he’d worn ever since Old Chicago.
“Hey,” I murmured. Zeke didn’t answer, and I searched his face, hoping his conviction still held, that he wouldn’t start doubting himself now. “You okay?”
His eyes closed. “No,” he whispered, and squeezed my hand before I could worry. “But…I’m getting there. One day at a time, right? I can’t turn back now, not when we’re this close.” Gazing at me again, he forced a faint smile. “We’re almost there,” he mused, and his hand traveled up to my face, brushing my hair back, skimming my cheek. “You’ll be able to see Eden with me after all.”
I ran my fingers down his chest, remembering what Kanin had said the night before. Sarren had likely beaten us to Eden. Who knew the state of the island now? Maybe everyone was dead, after all. But I wouldn’t think about that. We couldn’t give up. I would choose hope, to believe that they were still all right. It was all I could do now. “I’m just glad I won’t have to explain to Caleb and Bethany where you are,” I said, smiling down at Zeke. “I don’t think they’d ever forgive me for coming back without you.”