by Julie Kagawa
Flashes of memory invaded my thoughts, carried through his blood. The horrible night with Sarren; his agony as the vampire slowly cut him open, demanding he betray everyone he loved, and his absolute despair when he gave in to the torture. Another scene: him standing in the shadows, watching me struggle with a flimsy tent on an open, windy plain, hoping the tent would fall just so he could go talk to me. A flash of pain as he endured one of Jebbadiah’s many beatings, knowing he would never live up to the old man’s expectations. A memory of New Covington, of slow dancing with me in a dark corner, piano music swirling around us, and realizing how much he would sacrifice, how far he would go, for us to be together.
That very first night in Old Chicago, when we went to rescue our group from the raider king and, kneeling across from me in utter darkness, he realized that he was completely, irrevocably in love…with a vampire.
A little frightened at the depth of emotion sweeping through me, I tried drawing back, but Zeke shivered and slid his arms around me, pressing me to him. Urging me to go on. Closing my eyes, I sank my fangs in deeper, melting into him, and Zeke groaned softly.
I took only a little, knowing he was badly wounded and had little blood to spare. But it was hard, pulling away, forcing my fangs to retract. For a second, I’d seen the deepest, darkest parts of him, known every emotion and secret fear. I’d never felt so connected to anyone.
Looking up, I met Zeke’s gaze and trembled. His eyes were no longer blank, but shone with an intensity I’d never seen before. His lips were partially open, and his fangs gleamed inches from my face.
I swallowed, knowing what he wanted…and tilted my head back, baring my throat to him.
He lunged, and for a split second, I felt a jolt of fear, remembering the horrible pain when Kanin had bitten me. I tensed, but then Zeke’s fangs sank into my flesh. There was a tiny, initial stab of pain, and then warmth spread through me, turning my bones to liquid. It burned through my veins, soothing and wonderful, silencing even the constant ache of the Hunger, the raging of the demon. I closed my eyes, holding his head to my neck as he yanked me against him. Zeke growled, driving his fangs deep, and I gasped, arching into him, desperate to get closer.
He can see you. A tiny, panicked voice emerged from the layers of bliss, making me frown. He can see you now, the real you. Who you really are, behind that wall you put up for everyone. What will he think now that he knows what you really are? A killer. A monster.
I didn’t care. Let him see, I thought, holding him more tightly, urging him on. I thought of the moments we’d shared, my reluctance to trust anyone, especially a human, and how he had broken down every wall with his unshakable faith until I had to let him in. I remembered the look in his eyes just before he’d kissed me, knowing I was a monster, not letting it scare him away. I let him see the utter devastation his death had brought, how the demon had nearly won, and how it was my memory of him that finally drove it back.
This is me, I thought, wondering if he could hear my thoughts, as well. All of me. I’m here, Zeke. I won’t let you go.
Abruptly, Zeke stiffened. Pulling his fangs from my throat, he shoved me backward, his eyes wide with horror, as if just realizing what he’d done. I stumbled, caught myself, and faced him again, ready to leap away if he attacked.
He stared at me, blood smearing his lips and trickling from the corner of his mouth, his face contorted in anguish. With a shaking hand, he touched a finger to his lips and pulled it down to stare at the crimson spotting his skin. His eyes went dark with shock and disbelief, and he took one staggering step back, shaking his head.
“Zeke,” I whispered, stepping forward. My legs shook, possibly from blood loss, and I nearly fell. Zeke didn’t notice, staring at his bloody fingers. He looked horribly sick, like he might actually throw up if he could. “Wait.”
“Why didn’t you kill me?”
I stopped. His voice was so harsh it was almost a growl, his gaze desperate and accusing as he glanced up. “Why, Allie?” he whispered. His fangs were still out, and he bared them at me in an unconscious snarl. “Why didn’t you end it? You promised me you would.”
I swallowed my own desperate reply, meeting his condemning stare. “I promised I wouldn’t Turn you if you were dying,” I choked back, trying to steady myself. “I promised I’d let you go. I never said I would help you destroy yourself.”
“No,” Zeke agreed, slumping. “No, you didn’t. I can’t blame you for that.” For a moment, he stood there, the hazy blue light falling softly around him. Raising his head, Zeke looked at the ruined ceiling, letting the light wash over his face. Glancing at the hole, I felt a twinge of nervousness. The stars had faded, and dawn was very close.
I looked back at Zeke, who had closed his eyes, hands clenched at his sides. “It’s up to me, then,” he murmured, his voice broken but determined. He took a step back. “I’ll have to do it myself.”
“Zeke.” Suddenly very afraid, I started forward, wooziness forgotten. “Wait. What are you doing?”
He gave me one last, anguished glance. “Thank you,” he whispered. “For…bringing me out of it. For helping me remember. I… What you showed me… I don’t deserve it. Not now. But at least I’m free of Sarren.” He glanced up at the ceiling, at the open sky overhead, his expression resigned. “Kill him for me, vampire girl,” he murmured. “Promise me you’ll kill him. Send him to hell, and then I’ll finish the job myself.”
Ice shot through my veins. “Zeke, no.”
But he turned and fled, covering the room in several long strides, ignoring my cries for him to stop, and vanished from the chamber.
I chased him, following him out one of the doors and up a crowded, rubble-filled staircase, scrambling to catch up. Zeke ignored my calls, not looking back once, moving through the ruined theater like he was possessed. When his path became blocked by debris or walls or the fallen roof, he quickly chose another direction, but continued to move steadily upward. I had to push myself to keep pace with him, sometimes even climbing the crumbling walls of the theater, toward the roof and the lightening sky.
Finally, I pulled myself up a final beam, onto the blackened, skeletal roof of the old theater. Wind tossed my hair as I straightened, gazing around frantically. The gaping hole of the building plunged straight down several feet away, crisscrossed with steel girders that hung precariously over the edge. The top of the CHI AGO sign hung crookedly from the far wall, and beyond it, a terrifying orange glow had crept over the horizon.
A lean figure in black stood across from me on the rooftop, facing that oncoming light. He perched at the very edge of a metal girder, suspended out over nothing, the wind tearing at his hair and clothes. My vampire instincts were screaming at me to get inside, away from the killing rays of the sun. There wasn’t any time left. But I forced myself to walk carefully across the roof, easing around the gaping pit, to where the lean, pale figure stood, awaiting the dawn.
“Zeke.” My voice shook. Terrified, of both the rising sun and the thought of watching Zeke slowly erupt into flame right in front of me, I stepped to the very edge of the building and stared at the figure at the end of the beam. So close and yet, a lifetime away. “Don’t do this.”
He barely inclined his head, continuing to face the rising sun. “Go back inside, Allison,” he whispered, his voice calmer now. Resolute. “You don’t want to see me burn. From what Sarren told me, it’s quite painful.”
His voice trembled on the last sentence. I swallowed my fear, the instinct to take his advice and flee inside as quickly as I could, and inched forward. “Not without you.” He didn’t reply, and my voice became desperate. “Zeke, please, listen. You can fight it. I can show you how.”
“Do you want to know my first memory as a vampire?” The words were flat, emotionless. He didn’t seem to have heard me. The wind tossed his hair and clothes as he stood unmoving, silhouetted against the horizon. “The first few nights,” he went on, “I didn’t know what was happening. It was all flashes, bli
ps of emotion and memory, like a fever dream. I didn’t know what Sarren was doing, or even how long it lasted—everything was hazy. Until one night.”
He bowed his head, oblivious or uncaring of the faint pink glow spreading across his skin. I trembled, clamped down on my instinct to run, and stayed where I was.
“I woke up in a barn,” Zeke went on, in that same dead voice. “And when I did, I couldn’t remember anything. I didn’t know where I was, or who I was. I just knew…I was starving.”
Dread twisted my insides. I suddenly had a horrible suspicion of where this story was going, and wanted to rip Sarren apart for his cruelty. I remembered my first awakening as a newly Turned vamp; the confusion, fear, rage and Hunger that followed, and my mentor’s patient care in explaining everything. That hadn’t happened for Zeke.
“I wasn’t alone, of course,” Zeke continued softly. “Sarren had locked me in and barred the door from the outside along with about a half dozen other people. Just simple farmers, women and a couple kids. They weren’t even armed.” He paused, clenching his fists, as if the next memories were more than he could bear. “And I…I killed them, Allie. Every single one. I slaughtered them all.”
He choked, one hand going to his face, as I fought back tears, as well. “Zeke,” I managed, knowing I couldn’t imagine what he was feeling now, the guilt and utter horror of what he’d done. “I know it sounds horrible, but…that wasn’t you. When we’re Turned, when we first wake up, we don’t know what we’re doing. The Hunger takes over and we attack the first thing we see. Sarren knew that. You can’t blame it on yourself.”
“No.” He whirled on me, his gaze feverish. The desolation on his face made my stomach twist. “You don’t understand. I remember killing those people. I remember tearing them apart and…and I loved it, Allie.” His face screwed up with revulsion and self-loathing. “Don’t you see?” he whispered. “I’m not like you. You’ve fought this thing since the day you were Turned. I’ve…already fallen.” He blinked, and twin tracks of red slipped down his cheeks. “I’m a demon, and the sooner I take myself out of this world, the better.”
It was very bright now, or it seemed that way to my lightsensitive eyes. I didn’t know how much time we had left, but I couldn’t leave him here to die alone. “You’re not a demon,” I pleaded, as my own tears spilled over to join his. “You’re just as strong as I am, Zeke. You can fight this. It doesn’t have to control you—”
“I’m a vampire now!” Zeke exploded, his face anguished. More crimson lines coursed down his skin as he gestured violently toward the rising sun. “I died, Allison. I’m dead! What kind of existence can I expect from now on? Feeding on humans, only coming out at night, constantly fighting to stay in control, to not rip people apart for fun. Living for eternity as a cursed thing?” He sobbed. I couldn’t answer, because my own throat was filled with tears. Wiping his eyes, Zeke looked up at me, his expression desolate.
“My father is dead,” he whispered with a hopeless gesture. “I can’t go back to Eden. My family won’t have anything to do with me now that I’m a vampire, and I can’t ever go near them, because I don’t want to put them in danger. Everyone I love will hate and fear me, and they have every right to.” He gave another sob, closing his eyes and turning from me. “I should have died,” he choked out. “Back in that lab with Sarren. I wanted to die. What’s keeping me here, Allison? Why should I stay?”
“Because I love you, you idiot!”
He blinked, looking stunned. I slumped, feeling the tears still trickle from my eyes as I looked up at him, beseeching.
“That night in the lab,” I began in a soft, resigned voice, “when you…died…I lost myself for a little while. I almost became the monster you always hated.” Shame and guilt rose up once more, mingling with the fear and desperation. Memories of the night I had nearly crossed the line. “I thought it would be easier to let go of everything that made me human, to feel nothing. But I didn’t let it win, Zeke. Because of you.”
Zeke didn’t move or look away from me. I met his gaze head-on, uncaring of the red lines down my cheeks or the sudden, instinctive fear of those three words that left me wide open. “You told me once I wasn’t evil,” I said firmly. “That I wasn’t a demon, and I believed you. I still believe you.” I took a careful step forward, so that I was right at the edge of the girder, just a few feet away if I reached for him. “And I swear to you, Zeke, I’ll help you fight it. Every step of the way. I won’t let you become a monster. But you have to trust me now. Please.”
The top of the sun broke over the horizon. Faint orange light spilled across the rooftops, and a blinding pain speared me right in the eyes. I hissed, half turning away, feeling the skin on my cheeks, forehead, hands, everywhere that wasn’t covered, erupt with pain.
“Go back,” Zeke choked out, his voice tight with agony. I peeked up and saw him silhouetted against the light, tendrils of smoke beginning to curl from his bare arms. His eyes were anguished as they met mine. “Allie, get inside. Leave me.”
“No.” Straightening, I turned to face the sun, feeling the light sizzle across my face. Putting one foot on the beam, I held out a hand, my fingers already red and raw. My tears felt like acid, searing down my cheeks. “I’m not leaving without you,” I said hoarsely. “So, you either come with me, or we both burn.”
Zeke closed his eyes. For another moment, he stood there, head bowed, fighting with himself. Finally, he let out a sob, a heartbroken, defeated sob…and stepped forward, placing his hand in mine. I pulled him from the edge, hurried to the gaping hole in the roof, and dropped into darkness, as the sun climbed fully over the rooftops and painted everything behind us in orange light.
Chapter 10
I woke the next night starving and momentarily confused. I didn’t recognize the room I was in, and there was a body curled next to mine, still as death. Carefully, I levered myself to an elbow and looked around, taking in the small, windowless room. Moldy chairs sat on top of each other along the wall, and boxes of rags covered in dust and cobwebs were stacked in the corners. A huge, once-white dresser stood at the front of the room, the large, square mirror above it now fractured into a dozen pieces.
Then my gaze flickered down to see Zeke’s pale, unconscious form beside me, and everything from the night before came flooding back.
He’s really here. For a moment, I just watched him, letting relief spread through me like a slow flame, driving away the dark. Last night, I’d thought I would have to kill him. Last night, I’d experienced the worst moment of my life when he’d stood atop that roof, waiting for the sun to end his existence.
But it hadn’t. He was here, miraculously back from the dead, technicalities aside. It still didn’t seem real, like this was some sort of dream, though vampires didn’t dream. Zeke was back. Against all odds, against torture and mind compulsions and death and everything that Sarren had done to him, he was still here. Still alive.
The tricky part would be keeping him that way. I won’t let you become a demon, I swore, gazing down at him. He lay motionless beside me, no slow breaths, no heartbeat, no warmth radiating from his skin. Thankfully, we had both healed from our deadly brush with the sun; no traces of burned flesh remained. Though I remembered looking down at my hand just before I fell asleep, and seeing that the tips of my fingers were black and charred. The memory made me shiver. I’d almost died last night, almost let the sun cook me alive, turn me into a smoldering pile of ashes.
I’ll do it again, if it means saving you.
Zeke slept on. I put a hand against his cheek, feeling the smooth, cold skin beneath my fingers. He was a corpse—a living corpse, like me, but we would deal with this together. I promise, Zeke. You won’t become a monster. I’ll fight for both of us if I have to, I swear it.
A darkness invaded my thoughts then, the reality of my decision rising up to overshadow everything; I’d gone to face Zeke instead of continuing on toward Eden and the insane vampire hell-bent on destroying the world. Of two
impossible decisions, I’d chosen to turn my back on my survival instincts…and follow my heart. A year ago, Allie the Fringer would’ve done anything to keep living. She would’ve mocked the attachments to the small group I now considered family, encouraged me to sever all ties to protect myself. But I couldn’t do that anymore.
I wonder if Kanin ever found Jackal?
Suddenly anxious and feeling a little guilty, I shifted to one knee, closed my eyes, and reached out for my kin.
The instant pulse through our blood tie nearly made me collapse in relief. They were there. Both of them. I felt Kanin’s presence, strong and steady, and another, fainter tug that had to be Jackal. I didn’t know where they were. I didn’t know if they were waiting for me outside Old Chicago, or had gone ahead to Eden. I just knew they were alive. That was enough. If anything, the two of them could stop Sarren if I failed.
They’re all right. I relaxed, slumping back against the wall. They’re alive. Even Jackal is alive. We’re all okay for now. I glanced at Zeke, still dead to the world, knowing he could wake at any moment. Now, we just have to get out of Old Chicago without being pumped full of lead.
The floorboards creaked beside me as Zeke stirred, coming out of sleep, and I tensed. I didn’t know what state of mind he’d be in when he woke up. If he was teetering on the edge of Blood Frenzy, I’d have to stop him from losing it. With his wounds, he had to be just as Hungry as me, and he had less practice in controlling himself.
I desperately hoped that he hadn’t woken with a new resolve to meet the sun or to have someone drive a stake through his chest, but the possibility hovered at the edge of my mind, dark and terrifying.
Zeke rose slowly, pushing himself to one elbow, then to his knees. I shifted behind him, not touching, just letting him know I was there, that I was close. But he didn’t make any attempt to get up. He wasn’t shaking, or crying, or hunched forward in misery. He just knelt there with his hands on his knees, staring at the floor, at nothing.