The Forever Song

by Julie Kagawa

  The humans turned, craning their necks up and looking behind to where Kanin’s tall, imposing figure stood perfectly still on an overhead beam, gazing down at them.

  “So, wha’d’ya say, minions?” It wasn’t really a question. Jackal’s voice was hard, the edge beneath the surface hinting at barely restrained violence. He grinned at them, the smile of a killer, all fangs and glowing eyes, and several raiders shuffled uneasily. “Do we have an understanding? Grovel for my forgiveness now, and I might kill only half of you later.”

  The raiders hesitated. Several of them looked to Zeke, standing motionless at the edge of the pit. “What about the other vamp’s promise?” one called. “He said he’d Turn whoever killed Jackal and brought you his head. Does that offer still stand?”

  Jackal laughed, his voice booming through the chamber. “You really think that psycho would’ve Turned any of you?” he mocked. “Really? Because the messed-up face and obnoxious riddles would’ve tipped me off.” The raider king shook his head, his voice cutting. “He’s not coming back, minions,” he called. “And if any of you believed for one second that Sarren would keep his promise and not rip your hearts out through your jugulars, then do me a favor and shoot yourself in the face right now, because you’re too stupid to keep living.”

  “Sarren is gone,” added a deep, confident voice from overhead. Kanin, watching dispassionately from his perch. “And as Jackal said before, he is not coming back. We are the vampires you must deal with now.” The raiders stirred, muttering among themselves, as the Master vampire continued. “You have two clear choices tonight—leave in peace, or stay and fight us all. You might win. Your numbers might overwhelm us. But we will decimate this city, and its inhabitants, before we are finished. And neither Sarren nor Ezekiel will protect you.”

  I stood quietly, sword in hand, waiting to see what the humans would do. I felt like I should say something, but Zeke and Jackal seemed to be handling it well on their own; they were the vamps who had been in charge of this city, not me. And Kanin, by definition, was a Master and someone you’d best pay attention to. I just had to stand here and look dangerous—well, as dangerous as a thin, seventeen-year-old girl with a katana could look, I supposed. Hopefully the fact that I was a vampire made up for my height.

  There were a few heartbeats of tense silence, before one raider snorted and stepped back from the edge.

  “Fuck this,” he growled, lowering his weapon. His voice echoed through the chamber, and the room seemed to let out its breath. “I ain’t fightin’ a goddamned pack of bloodsuckers. They want the city, they can have it. I ain’t dyin’ for this.”

  That seemed to be the tipping point. As the one raider walked away into the darkness, everyone else lowered their weapons and stepped back from the ledge. Jackal waited a moment longer, until it seemed the danger was truly past, then nodded.

  “There, see? I knew we could be civil.” Though his voice was amused, his eyes glittered, hinting at future retribution. “Murder and thieving aside, we’re not barbarians. Now, get out of here, the lot of you. Your stupid faces are grating on my nerves.

  “Oh, and minions?” he added as the room began to empty. Most of the humans looked back, and Jackal gave them a very dangerous smile. “Don’t think for a second you’ve gotten off easy,” he warned in a low voice. “I won’t forget this. In fact, I think it’s high time we brought back the public dismemberments, to remind everyone why it’s a bad idea to piss off a vampire king.” He grinned up at them, fangs gleaming brightly, and cocked two fingers. “Any volunteers?”

  The raiders scattered. Guns clattering, they swiftly drew back from the ledge and fled the room, vanishing through doorways and even through holes in the walls in their haste. For a few seconds, chaos ensued as the army scrambled to get out of Jackal’s immediate sight. Then the footsteps disappeared, the voices faded away, and soon the dripping of water and the faint moans of the building around us were all that could be heard.

  Jackal smiled into the silence, then turned to the rest of us, smug satisfaction breaking over his face. “And that,” he stated, looking mostly at Zeke, “is how you rule a raider city.”

  Zeke didn’t answer, but I stepped forward, placing myself between him and Jackal, keeping my sword raised. Jackal eyed me and snorted.

  “Relax, sister.” The raider king waved an airy hand. “Put up the damn sword before I shove it down your throat. The minions have come to their senses, and as soon as I hang a few heads from the center of town, all will be as it should. We won this round, so untwist your panties and calm down.”

  I didn’t relax. “What about Zeke?”

  “What about him?” Jackal shrugged. “You won’t let me put him out of his misery, he’s your problem now. Besides…” He glanced at Zeke, watching us a few feet away, and smirked. “I’d never thought I’d say this, but the little meatsack has potential. If he doesn’t have a meltdown and decide he needs a tan, he might actually be a decent bloodsucker. And by decent, I mean a proper, murdering, ‘I eat babies for breakfast’ vampire. It’s always the nice ones you have to worry about.” Jackal smiled at me, cruel and challenging. “Ironic, isn’t it, sister? Your innocent, puppy-eyed human could become a worse monster than you. Or me. Or even Sarren. Wouldn’t that be a hoot?”

  I scowled, but at that moment Kanin dropped from the ledge, landing with a barely audible splash a few yards away. I blinked as he rose and glided toward us, his face impassive.

  “I thought you and Jackal were going to wait outside the city,” I said, gazing up at him. “Wasn’t that the plan? Not that I’m complaining, but why’d you come back?”

  One corner of Kanin’s mouth twitched, very slightly. “It wasn’t entirely my decision to return, Allison,” he said.

  For a moment, I was confused. Then my eyes widened in shock, and I turned to Jackal, who was standing in the same place with his arms crossed, looking annoyed. “Jackal?” I sputtered, and he raised an eyebrow. “You decided to come back? Why?”

  “Don’t read too much into it, sister.” My blood brother sneered at me, golden eyes mocking. “I didn’t come back to save you from the big bad minion army, trust me. I just wasn’t about to let lover boy get away with stealing my city. And I figured you wouldn’t have the balls to off him yourself, once it really came down to it. Looks like I was right.” He snorted and rolled his eyes. “I came to cut off a head and take back what’s mine, nothing else. So, don’t get all mushy on me.”

  “Regardless,” Kanin said, interrupting us, much to Jackal’s relief, I thought, “we are wasting time. Eden is still in danger. Ezekiel,” he said solemnly, turning to Zeke, “I will ask you this only once. You know the stakes, how important it is that we reach Eden. You know we will have to face Sarren at the end of this journey. Can you do this?”

  “I don’t know,” Zeke answered simply, unapologetically. “But I promised Allison that I would help you stop Sarren. That finding him comes before everything else. So, at least until we get to Eden, I’m with you. I can’t promise anything beyond that.”

  “And if Sarren uses you again to stop us?”

  “Then kill me,” Zeke replied. Stated so bluntly, so matterof-factly, that my stomach turned. “If something happens where it’s either Sarren or me, don’t hesitate. Stop him, even if you have to kill me, too.” He avoided my gaze as he said this, his voice dropping to a whisper. “It would be a mercy.”

  “Oh, don’t say that, bloodbag,” Jackal said, ever-present grin back in place. “I was just starting to like you.”

  Chapter 11

  We left Old Chicago that night, heading east toward Eden once more. Only this time, things were vastly different. One, Zeke was with us. Still shaken, dispassionate, and numb with what had happened to him, but alive. I was determined to keep him that way. And two, we had a working vehicle again.

  “Not the prettiest hunk of metal on the road,” Jackal remarked as we walked across the floating barge, passing rows of motorcycles to where a rusty old va
n was parked at the end of the line. “I would suggest bikes, but fuel’s running a bit low, and it’s a bitch to find more. Better to have to fill one tank instead of four.”

  Kanin regarded the van impassively. There were slats across the windows, and metal spikes welded to the hood and bumpers, making it bristle with ill intent, but he didn’t say anything. Zeke also observed the van without emotion, which worried me. A van like this had been used to kidnap his people and take them to Old Chicago, but if he was remembering that night, it didn’t show.

  Wrenching open the side door, I peered inside. The interior was empty, seats torn out, rotting plywood laid across the floor. An old, flat tire sat in the corner, and a skull-sized hole, the edges lined with rust, was punched through the opposite wall. Water and snow had obviously seeped in, for the whole thing reeked of mold.

  “Really?” I looked back at my blood brother. “We’re going to Eden in this hunk of metal? It’s two steps away from falling apart.”

  “Sorry, sister. I didn’t realize you were such a car expert.” Jackal sneered at me. “Does the chariot not meet her majesty’s approval? Were you expecting white horses and gold wheels? You could always walk to Eden, you know.”

  “You’re the king of Old Chicago. Can’t you demand a better vehicle?”

  “This is the better vehicle.”

  The growl of the engine interrupted us. Kanin had slipped into the driver’s seat and turned the ignition, making the van cough and sputter to life. It stood there, shaking and wheezing like some ancient beast, and the Master vampire drummed his fingers on the wheel, staring out the front window. Clearly, he was done waiting for us to make a decision. Zeke stepped into the van without hesitation, sitting cross-legged against the far wall, and Jackal opened the passenger door with a smirk.

  “Shotgun.”

  “What?” I said. But he had already slammed the door behind him, leaving me standing there by myself. Glowering, I stepped into the flimsy, rotting interior, pulled the door closed, and settled against the wall with Zeke. The van coughed once more and began to move, rolling across the barge, over a shaky, rattling bridge, and into the streets.

  Back on the highway, Kanin turned the van east once more, weaving through cars and dead vehicles clogging the road, until we reached the outskirts of the city and the lanes opened up. As we picked up speed, the broken skyline of Old Chicago faded into the darkness, until it vanished from sight, and only the road was left, stretching on to Eden.

  That first part of the night, the ride was hushed. Kanin drove, and Jackal rode beside him with the seat back and his hands behind his head. I sat with Zeke on the floor of the van, watching his still form and wishing I could reach out to him, somehow. He seemed to have retreated deep within himself, and my few attempts to talk to him were met with polite but vague one-word answers. He didn’t want to talk, or he wasn’t ready to talk, and the more I prodded, the further he withdrew. Eventually, I gave up and sat next to him in silence, just letting him know I was there. When he was ready, he would come around. Until then, I would let him sort everything out in peace.

  The van lumbered on, the only sounds being the sickly whine and cough of the engine, and the occasional thump of tires rolling over debris. Sometimes, the road was clear. Other times, Kanin had to slow the van to a near crawl, weaving through clusters of abandoned, overturned vehicles or trees that had fallen into the road. Once, when he drove carefully around a rock slide that covered most of the pavement, the engine sputtered and died, and it took several tries to get it started again. I was relieved when it finally coughed and turned over, albeit very reluctantly. Ancient and unreliable as the van was, we were still covering ground much faster than had we been on foot.

  “Oh, my, it’s awfully quiet back there,” Jackal remarked after several miles had passed and nothing had happened. Of course, my blood brother took personal offense to peace and quiet, and I could practically hear the grin in his voice. “Are you two making out?”

  “Shut up, Jackal.”

  He snickered. Kanin drove on in silence, determined, I suspected, to ignore us all and the annoyances that were looming. I shifted closer to Zeke, just so that my arm brushed his, and waited for Jackal’s next comment.

  “So, little bloodsucker,” the raider king went on, confirming my suspicions. “How’s life as a vampire these nights? Not that I care, mind you, but we are chasing your crazy-as-shit sire. If he has something nasty waiting for us in Eden, I’d kinda like to know about it. Any hints as to what your psycho daddy is up to?”

  “No,” Zeke answered simply. “I haven’t seen him since he left Old Chicago, a few days before you showed up.”

  “Well, that’s unfortunate.” Jackal crossed his arms, his voice contemplative. “Haven’t seen the psychopath at all, huh?” He gazed up at the roof. “If only there was some sort of link that would let you know exactly where he is.”

  I jerked up. The blood tie. Of course, how could I forget? Zeke was Sarren’s offspring, disturbing as that was, so he should be able to sense where the crazy vamp was through their shared bloodline. I wondered if we could somehow track Sarren down without alerting him to Zeke’s presence. I also wondered how I could tactfully suggest that to Zeke without completely freaking him out.

  But Kanin shook his head.

  “No,” the Master vampire stated, the first thing he’d said since leaving Chicago. “It’s too soon. The blood tie takes time to develop, depending how strong the new vampire is. Sometimes it takes months. If neither sire nor offspring is a Master, it can take even longer. Often, it is triggered by intense emotion or pain; when one member subconsciously calls for help, it is felt by the whole bloodline. But I fear it is too soon for Ezekiel to have developed the link to his maker, at least not one that he can feel. The tie usually emerges after the offspring has been a vampire for a while.”

  “Huh.” Jackal didn’t seem pleased with this, but I was relieved. Zeke certainly didn’t need that kind of burden, having to feel Sarren’s presence, like an evil taint, lingering in his consciousness. A constant reminder that he was still out there, waiting. The thought made me shudder.

  Jackal shifted against the seat, making it groan loudly. “Guess you got lucky there, bloodbag,” he muttered, and I wondered if even Jackal found the thought of being tied to Sarren disturbing. “Any hints as to what he’s doing, then? Plans? Ideas? Creepy riddles?” He turned and peered back at us, raising a pointed eyebrow. “A message scrawled on a bathroom door in the blood of the innocent?”

  “He didn’t tell me anything,” Zeke said, with a dangerous undertone that warned not to keep pushing him down this path. Jackal, of course, didn’t get the hint or, most likely, didn’t care.

  “Well, you’re just all kinds of useless, aren’t you?” He shifted back, settling against the seat with his arms behind his head again. But he wasn’t done, yet. “Come on, Ezekiel, you’re the progeny of the Insane One himself. Sure you can’t scrape something out of that screwed-up head to give us the jump on Sarren? I’m sure if you dig hard enough, you’ll find his special brand of crazy right where you need it.”

  I slid forward and kicked the back of his seat, making him turn to glare at me. “Will you shut up? Leave him alone. How is this helping anything?”

  “Hey, pardon me for wanting to be prepared,” Jackal drawled. “We can’t all be like you, sister, charging in blind and hoping your sword hits something as you flail about. You got lucky this time. That’s not going to work with Sarren.”

  “Why don’t you tell us what he’s up to?” I challenged. “You worked with him back in New Covington. I’m sure the pair of you had plenty of chances to bond.”

  “You’d think so, but not really.” Jackal didn’t miss a beat. “Turns out, crazy psychotic vampires are really difficult to pal around with. They tend to be irrationally paranoid, and his poetry was about to drive me up a wall. So I’m afraid I didn’t get any useful information out of Sarren because I was busy…oh, what was it again? I forgot w
hy I was there.” Jackal mock frowned, then snapped his fingers. “Oh, yeah! I was saving your skin.”

  “Funny, I was going to say setting us up.”

  “You’re never going to let that go, are you?”

  “If the two of you would like to walk to Eden,” Kanin said at last, not taking his eyes from the road, “I can stop anytime.” I fell silent, and Jackal gave a disgusted snort and turned to face the windshield again. Kanin sighed. “James, we will come up with a plan for dealing with Sarren when we have more information,” he said, glancing at Jackal. “But antagonizing Ezekiel will not help, so I suggest you cease before your sister runs a sword through the back of your chair.” I smirked triumphantly, though it didn’t last. “Allison, your brother is right. You cannot go charging into Sarren’s lair blind this time around. He will be expecting you.” Kanin’s voice turned grave. “And he will be ready for us all.”

  The van died an hour later.

  Kanin had slowed again, driving carefully beneath an overpass that had partially collapsed, leaving huge chunks of concrete leaning against each other at treacherous angles. As we cleared the bridge’s ominous shadow, the van shuddered, gave one final wheeze, and stopped moving. Kanin tried coaxing it to life, but no amount of prodding could revive it this time. It was well and truly dead.

  “Great.” I glared at Jackal as we piled out onto a lonely highway that stretched for miles in either direction. The trek to Eden had just become that much longer, and we didn’t have time to spare. “I know it’s irrational,” I told him, “but I blame you for this.”

  “Whatever floats your boat, sister.” Jackal ignored my glare and walked to the front of the van, then lifted up the hood with a creak. Gazing over the complicated jumble of metal and wires, he shook his head. “Could be the fuel hose, could be the alternator. Or the engine might be shot to hell. I won’t know unless I fiddle with it.” He eyed Kanin, who stood calmly at the front of the vehicle. “Unless that screws with your time schedule, oh, impatient one. This might take a couple hours, and I don’t know if I’ll be able to get it started again. But by all means—” he waved a hand down the empty, moonlit highway “—feel free to take the runts and start walking, and I’ll meet you down the road. If you hear me coming, just stick out a thumb.” Jackal grinned, his eyes glowing yellow in the shadow of the hood. “I’ll slow down. Probably.”