The Forever Song Read online

  A shadow fell over me, and the ground shook with a roar. I spun to see a huge rabid, well over six feet, fill my vision one second before a large, claw-tipped hand struck the side of my head with an explosion of pain. I was knocked into a car, glass shattering around me as the giant roared, towering over the others, and came at me again.

  I dove aside as the rabid struck the car, talons screeching off the metal and leaving long furrows behind. Despite its monstrous size, it was more skeleton than flesh. Below the ribs jutting sharply against pale skin, its stomach was a yawning, concave valley that seemed to press into its spine. But its shoulders were massive, and heavy, deformed arms hung past its knees, the hands tipped with sicklelike claws. It screamed at me and pounced, and I rolled away, cutting at its middle as I came to my feet. The katana struck a few ribs, severing them, and the creature whirled with a howl.

  Blood ran into my eyes, making it hard to see. I blinked and shook my head, trying to focus. The rabid roared and lashed out with those long arms, and I met the blow with my sword, hammering it into the thing’s forearm. The blade struck the thick limb and cut deep, but the force still knocked me aside, sending me sprawling to the snow. It was strong, and I was going to have to hit something vital if I wanted to kill it for good.

  Still clutching my weapon, I pushed myself to my hands and knees. But before I could stand, something grabbed the back of my neck, lifted me up a few feet, and then slammed me to the pavement with crushing force. I felt my nose break and my jawbone snap, and pain exploded behind my eyes. The thing bashed me to the ground three more times, bones popping and crunching with every blow, before it turned and flung me into the hood of a car. More glass shattered, biting into my flesh, and fresh stabs of pain joined the agony already pounding through my head. The rabid bellowed in triumph, lumbering forward, and my delirium shifted to a sudden, all-consuming rage.

  Ignoring the pain, I snatched my katana from where it lay on the hood and roared a challenge to the giant bearing down on me. As it loomed overhead, smashing down with a huge fist, I dodged aside, and its arm crunched into metal, leaving a deep hole behind. Snarling, I leaped toward my enemy, launched myself off its elbow, and brought my sword down as hard as I could. The blade sliced through the rabid’s collarbone and carved through its pale body, splitting it open from neck to stomach.

  The huge creature staggered, the two halves peeling off in different directions, before it slid slowly to the pavement, twitched once, and was still. Fangs bared, I gazed around for my next attacker, raising my sword, but nothing else moved in the night. The horde was gone, scattered in pieces behind and around me, filling the air with the foul stench of their blood. I was alone.

  And I hurt. I hurt everywhere, inside and out. I needed food, blood. I needed to hunt, but there was no prey here. The pain within was fading; I knew I was healing, but I was Hungry now. So very Hungry…

  “Well, little sister, I’m not too proud to say it. That was almost impressive.”

  A voice, snide and challenging, echoed behind me. The Hunger roared, and I spun, baring my fangs in a snarl. Another vampire stood several paces away, smelling of blood and power, yellow eyes widening in shock. Older than me, possibly stronger than me, but that had never given me pause before. My lips curled, and I stepped toward him, raising my sword.

  “Sister.” The vampire’s voice was a warning, and he raised his hands, one of which held a bloody fire ax. “Don’t be stupid. Get a hold of yourself. Don’t make me smear your brains all over the pavement.”

  His voice rang oddly in my head, almost familiar. Did I know him? I hesitated, confused, but the fiery ache inside rose up, consuming me. I faced the vampire across from me and hissed, an invitation and a challenge. To my surprise, he didn’t take it.

  “Allison.”

  Another figure appeared from the maze of cars, striding to face me across the pavement. I cringed back, feeling the immense power radiating from that dark form. The first vampire was of no consequence now. This vampire was far older, and far, far stronger than us both.

  “One of the bastards got her good,” I heard the other vampire say, not making any sense. “She’s close to frenzy. Doesn’t recognize either of us.”

  The ancient one gazed at me, dark eyes boring into mine, and fear shot through me. I couldn’t fight him; he would tear me apart. I snarled and stepped back, tensing to flee into the shadows, away from that terrifying presence.

  “Allison, stop.” The Master’s voice, soft and compelling, lanced into me, holding me still. “Look at me,” he continued, and I had no choice but to obey. “Calm your mind,” he murmured, the words soothing the swirl of chaos and darkness within. “You know me. You know who you are.” His voice flowed through me, becoming more familiar, and the rage began to subside. “Remember,” the Master vampire continued, staring me down. “Remember what we are trying to accomplish.” His voice hardened, becoming unyielding and stern. “You cannot lose yourself to frenzy. I will not allow it. Who am I?”

  Memory flooded in at last. Closing my eyes, I slumped to the hood of a car, bowing my head. “Kanin,” I whispered as everything came back. I could feel my fangs pressing against my lip, the blood on my cheek left by rabid claws, the damage done to me inside. The Hunger flared, painful and demanding, but I shoved it into the darkness once more.

  His footsteps crunched through the snow until he stood over me, gazing at the top of my head. Shame burned, hot and intense. I’d lost control. The very thing I had promised would never happen again, nearly had. I’d been one step away from Blood Frenzy, from losing control of the Hunger and attacking anything that moved.

  No, Allison. Don’t lie to yourself. The truth emerged, making me feel cold. You didn’t lose control to the demon—you welcomed it this time. You gave in, willingly. And Kanin knows it.

  “How injured are you?” My sire’s voice was grave, disapproving. I clenched my fists against the metal, pushing back the shame and the last of the Hunger, and rose to face him.

  “I’ll live.” I flicked blood from my katana, then sheathed it calmly, keeping my own voice neutral. I refused to feel guilty, refused to let Kanin shame me for what I’d almost done. I’d been badly hurt, and Blood Frenzy was a fact of life for vampires. Sooner or later, we all lost control.

  “I was careless,” I muttered, turning away from my sire and seeing Jackal at the edge of the road. It was easier to face Jackal than Kanin; my blood brother stood with his arms crossed, smirking at me, but that was more bearable than the disappointed stare of a Master vampire. “It won’t happen again.”

  “It will,” Kanin said and walked past me, heading down the road, but in a different direction than before. I blinked after him.

  “Where are you going?”

  “We’re breaking trail,” Kanin said matter-of-factly. “Sarren will have to wait. We must go hunting before one of us falls to Blood Frenzy.” That pretty much meant me, I guessed.

  “No,” I growled, and stalked after my sire, making him turn. “Kanin, I’m fine. We don’t have to do this.”

  “Allison.” Kanin’s eyes narrowed. “Of the three of us, you are closest to the edge. You are making no effort to control yourself, and the monster is very close to the surface. Having you so close to frenzy is dangerous for us all. As it is, I am not certain you can restrain yourself in the presence of humans. I am less certain that you will even try.”

  It wasn’t the muted disapproval in his voice that got to me; it was the sorrow, the regret. As if he had failed. As if he had been proud of me, once, but now had second thoughts about bringing me into this world, making me a vampire.

  And suddenly, I was angry. I was angry that he could make me feel shame for what I knew was my base nature. I was angry that no matter what I told myself otherwise, how hard I tried to deny it, I wanted to make him proud. I was angry that he expected more from me, that he held me up to some ridiculous standard that I could never reach.

  I raised my head and stared him down. “Maybe
I won’t,” I said carelessly. “Why should that bother you?”

  Anguish flickered across his impassive face before it became calmly aloof once more. “This is not what I taught you, Allison,” he said in a voice meant only for me. “You are stronger than this.”

  I shrugged. “Maybe I realized it’s futile, and I don’t want to fight my nature for the rest of eternity. Maybe I realized Jackal was right all along.”

  “No.” Kanin’s voice was suddenly hard, terrifying. “You are simply using your demon to hide from what you really feel. Because you are afraid of what that means, that it might be painful. It is far easier to be a monster than to confront the truth.”

  I snarled back, baring my fangs. “So what?” I demanded, wanting Kanin to react, to show some kind of emotion, but he didn’t even blink. “I tried, Kanin. I really did. But you know what I discovered?” I curled my lip into a sneer. “We are monsters. No matter how long I fight it, I’m always going to want to hunt and kill and destroy. You taught me that, remember? What happened with—” my mind recoiled from his name “—with that human—that was stupid and wrong and eventually, I would’ve killed him. It was…better…that he died.” I nearly choked on the words, but forced myself to continue, to believe it. “He would’ve only been used against me. Now there’s nothing holding me back.”

  “Very well.” Kanin’s voice sounded hollow. “Then the next time you are teetering on the edge, I will not pull you back from it. But be warned, Allison.” His gaze sharpened, cutting into me. “There is a difference between killing while in the throes of Hunger or Blood Frenzy, and giving in to the monster. Once you fall, once you willingly cross that line, it changes you. Forever.”

  We glared at each other, two monsters facing off in the tangle of cars and dead rabids, the snow falling softly around us. Kanin’s gaze was icy, but I sensed no anger from him, only weary acceptance, regret and the faintest hint of sorrow. He understood, I realized. He knew, better than most, the lure of the monster, how hard it was to deny our base nature. He was disappointed that he had lost another to the demon, but he understood. I wondered if Kanin, in his long, long existence, had ever fallen to his own darkness, if it was even possible to hold out forever.

  I decided that I didn’t care. Let Kanin do and think what he wished; I was still a monster, and that would never change.

  “So, anyway.” Jackal’s impatient voice broke through our cold standoff. “Not to interrupt this riveting family drama, but are we going to go hunting anytime soon, or are you two going to glare at each other until the sun comes up?”

  We took the road due north, a direction that pointed away from Eden and Sarren. I didn’t want to postpone the chase, to let our quarry pull farther ahead. But Kanin insisted, and when Kanin insisted, there was nothing else to do. For the rest of the night, we walked, passing forests and plains and the broken remnants of civilization, well hidden in the snow and overgrown forest.

  Kanin ignored me, walking silently ahead without looking back. Not that his behavior was any different than on most nights, but now it had this icy, untouchable feel to it. He had washed his hands of me, it seemed. I told myself I didn’t care. Kanin’s values were no longer my own. And he was wrong about me. I wasn’t burying the pain left over from that night in New Covington, or using the monster to shield myself from hurt. I’d simply accepted what I was. What I should have accepted from the beginning.

  “So, sister,” Jackal said at length, dropping beside me with his ever-present grin. “Looks like we’re in the same boat now. How does it feel, being one of Kanin’s many disappointments?”

  “Shut up, Jackal,” I said, mostly out of habit. Knowing he wouldn’t.

  “Oh, it’s not so bad,” Jackal went on, with a nod in Kanin’s direction. “Now you don’t have to hear him go on and on about his stupid bloodbags and ‘controlling the monster.’ It gets so tedious after a few months.” He gave me a wicked smile. “Isn’t it easier down here, sister? Now that you’ve fallen from his ridiculously high expectations? You can finally start living the way a vampire should.”

  “Is there a point to any of this?”

  “Actually, there is.” His smirk faded, and, for a moment, he looked almost serious. “I want to know what you’re going to do after we catch up to Sarren and beat the ever-loving shit out of him,” he said. “I don’t expect the old man will want either of us around much longer, now that you’ve finally accepted the fact that you actually like the taste of blood, and he tends to frown on such things. Where will you go once this is all over? Assuming you survive, of course. And that our dear sire doesn’t decide to off us both for ‘the greater good.’”

  “I don’t know,” I said, ignoring that last part. I didn’t think Kanin would try to kill me, but…he had tried to end Jackal’s life once, long ago. Had I fallen so far that Kanin thought Jackal and I were one and the same? Mistakes that he should never have brought into the world?

  “I don’t know where I’ll go after this,” I said again, gazing off into the trees. I couldn’t see myself staying in any one place, not among the humans who hated and feared me, and who I would systematically kill, one by one, to feed myself. Maybe I’d wander from place to place, forever. “I guess it doesn’t matter.”

  “Well, I have a suggestion,” Jackal said, the echo of a grin in his voice. “Come back with me to Old Chicago.”

  I glanced at him in surprise. He seemed completely serious about the offer. “Why?” I asked warily. “You never struck me as the sharing type.”

  “You do have a very selective memory, you know that, right?” Jackal shook his head. “What have I been saying all this time, sister? I’ve made this offer before, several times in fact, but you were too hung up on your precious bloodbags to even consider it. No, I don’t tolerate other bloodsuckers in my city, but you’re not just a random, wandering mongrel vampire. You’re kin.” He smiled widely, showing the tips of his fangs. “And we could do great things, the two of us. Think about it.”

  Still wary, I asked, “And what are these ‘great things’ we would end up doing?”

  Jackal chuckled. “For starters,” he said, “once we get that cure from Eden, we could start working on that whole vampire-army thing I’ve been talking about. We could have our own vampire city, and the other Princes would bow to us. We could rule everything, you and me. Wha’d’ya say?”

  “And you’d just share all that?” I gave him a skeptical look. “What’s to stop you from stabbing me in the back the second we have a disagreement?”

  “Sister, I’m hurt.” Jackal gave me a mock wounded look. “You make me sound completely unreasonable. Isn’t it enough that I want to get to know my dear little sister, my only surviving kin besides Kanin?”

  “No,” I said, now even more wary. I glared at him, and he gave me a smile that was way too innocent. “Don’t try to feed me any crap about family and blood and kin. You’d throw us to the rabids if you thought you could get something out of it, you said so yourself.” Jackal snorted, but he didn’t deny it, and I narrowed my eyes. “What’s the real reason you want me around?”

  “Because, my thick-headed little sister…” Jackal sighed. “I trust you.”

  I nearly tripped over my own feet in shock. I stared at him, not really believing what I’d just heard, and he glared back. Like this was vastly annoying, and he needed to get it over with quickly. “Because I know that you, at least, won’t turn on me if something better comes along,” he elaborated. “Because you have that disgusting sense of loyalty that keeps getting you into trouble. And because you aren’t half bad in a fight, either.” His expression moved between arrogance and pity. “I figure I can be the smart, practical, logical one and you can be the pretty, hotheaded, overemotional one, and between us, we’ll be ready for anything.”

  “So you want me around because I can fight, and I won’t turn on you.” My voice echoed flatly in my head, tinged with bitterness. “That’s a pretty nice deal on your side. I seem to notice you ar
en’t making those same promises.”

  Jackal shrugged. “Look at it this way, sister,” he said, his golden eyes seeing way too much as they gazed down at me. “At least you won’t be alone.”

  His words sent a shiver through my insides. Alone. I would be alone again. After this was all over, even if we beat Sarren, I’d be right back where I started the night Kanin and I had fled New Covington and been separated. I hadn’t been able to return to the city, but I’d had no clue what to do next. With no sire, no friends and no direction, I’d wandered aimlessly through an empty, unforgiving world, not knowing what to do or where I was headed. Not knowing how lonely I was, until I stumbled upon a small group of pilgrims searching for a mythical paradise. They’d given me a goal, a purpose. I’d given everything to get them to Eden…but they were gone now. And once Sarren was killed, it would be like that again. Kanin would leave and I’d be alone once more, wandering the world by myself. Unless, I accepted Jackal’s offer.

  “I don’t know,” I said once more, making him sigh again. “I’ll…think about it.”

  “Think fast,” Jackal said, but at that moment, Kanin stopped in the middle of the pavement, gazing at something at his feet. Curious, we strode over, hopping the trunk of a tree that had fallen into the road. We’d been following a narrow, broken trail through a stretch of forest that was doing its best to smother everything we passed, and the few houses I’d glimpsed through the thick trunks were barely more than rotted beams wrapped in vegetation. Nothing moved out here; even the wildlife seemed to be asleep or in hibernation, and the snow covered everything in a silent blanket, muffling all sound. I hoped Kanin knew what he was doing, leading us so far afield.

  Kanin still hadn’t moved when we came up, but his gaze followed something off into the woods. Gazing down at the road, I saw what had stopped him.

  A pair of straight, narrow tracks cut through the snow, went across the road, and continued up the bank into the forest on the other side. I blinked. A vehicle of some sort? It would have to be a really small one, to be able to travel through dense woods. And there were animal prints of some kind between the lines. At least, they certainly weren’t human.