The Forever Song Page 4

  “A horse and cart went through here,” Kanin explained, perhaps seeing my confused expression. “Not long ago. A few hours, perhaps.” He gazed into the trees, and his voice was suddenly grave. “Whoever left these tracks isn’t far.”

  “About time,” Jackal growled at my side, and an evil grin crossed his face as his gaze followed Kanin’s into the forest. His eyes glowed dangerously, and his fangs glinted as he smiled. “Let’s just hope there’s more than one. I don’t particularly feel like sharing.”

  There are humans nearby. The Hunger surged up with the realization, twisting and painful. I felt my own fangs slide out, poking my bottom lip, and suddenly resented the two vampires nearby—competition for my food.

  “Come, then,” Kanin said, sounding weary. He stepped off the road, heading into the forest without looking back. “Let’s get this over with.”

  Chapter 3

  The trail didn’t take us far.

  We’d followed the tracks about two hundred yards into the forest when the trees thinned and a small field stretched out before us, penned in with crudely cut logs. The ground past the barrier had been trampled to mud, and when I took a breath, I caught the familiar scent of manure and livestock hanging in the frozen air. The pasture, of course, was empty. No one left domestic animals outside at night, for the same reason no human ever ventured out at night: they’d be ripped to shreds by rabids in short order.

  Eagerly, I stared past the field, searching for any signs of where these humans might live. When I had traveled with Jebbadiah’s band, we’d stumbled across the Archer farm one night, an isolated homestead surrounded by a protective fence that kept rabids at bay. The barn and enormous farmhouse both sat within the wall, and the Archer clan had been able to move freely about even at night, so long as they stayed within its boundaries.

  But, to my shock, there was no wall out here, not even a small one. Sitting at the edge of the field, smoke curling lazily from a brick chimney, was a house. It was dark, two stories high, and completely unprotected, sitting brazenly in the open with no fires, gates, or anything to shield it from the walking horrors outside.

  “Well, that’s interesting,” Jackal murmured, leaning against the fence with his elbows on the railing. “No wall. And there are definitely bloodbags inside, unless the rabids have suddenly discovered they’re not afraid of fire.” He frowned, regarding the house like it was some new curiosity he’d never seen before. “So, I’m guessing these meatsacks are either the luckiest sons of bitches to ever walk the earth, or that house is going to have a few nasty surprises waiting for us.” With a snort, he pushed himself off the railing, shaking his head. “Course, it’s not going to matter either way. I’m still going to eat them. How much is going to depend on how seriously they piss me off by the time I get in there.”

  I growled at him, the monster rearing up in protest. “You’d better not kill them all,” I said coldly, making him raise an eyebrow. “At least not until I’m done. Find your own human to feed on. I’m not sharing this time.”

  “Oh, sister,” Jackal mocked, pretending to wipe away a tear. “Listen to you, sounding just like a real vampire. I’m so proud.”

  “We are not,” Kanin said in a calm, terrifying voice, “going to kill anyone. Executing men who are shooting at us is one thing. There is no need to massacre a sleeping household. When we part ways, you both can do as you like. Until then, as I am the oldest and technically the head of this coven, we will do things my way. If you cannot abide this, you are always free to go. I am not stopping you.”

  He’d once said those words to Jackal, who’d taken him up on that offer and betrayed us to Sarren, only to switch sides once more at the last minute. But now, Kanin’s dark gaze fixed solely on me, hard and cold. It sent a sudden, sharp pang through my stomach. My sire didn’t trust me; he really had lumped me into the same boat as Jackal, the vampire whom I’d once despised for treating humans as food. Jackal’s own words came back to taunt me. “That’s what I like about you, sister. You and me, we’re exactly the same.”

  He was right. My ruthless, murdering blood brother had been right all along.

  I met Kanin’s piercing gaze and shrugged. “Fine,” I said, matching my coldness to his. “You’ve made your point. I’ll try not to kill any of the bloodbags.”

  A flicker of what might’ve been pain crossed Kanin’s impassive face on that last sentence. That last word, one I’d never used before. Bloodbags.

  Jackal snickered then, shooting Kanin a dangerous leer. “Aw, what’s the matter, old man?” he asked. “Didn’t expect your little spawn to fall so far from grace? Did you really expect her to retain your ridiculous, unfeasible morals?” He gave me a sideways glance. “Open your eyes, Kanin. Your favorite hellspawn is a demon, just like the rest of us. Only now, she’s finally realized it.”

  Kanin stared at us, his features coolly remote once more, then turned away. “We do this quickly and quietly,” he said, following the cart tracks around the field toward the house up top. “Go in, take what you need, and leave. There might be guards nearby, so let’s be careful.”

  As we approached the monstrous house sitting at the edge of the pasture, the reason it wasn’t surrounded by a wall became quite clear. It didn’t need to be.

  Up close, the building was a fortress. The walls were brick, reinforced in places with steel bars and plates. A wide trench surrounded the whole house, with sharpened iron poles bristling from the bottom and stabbing up on the other side. Windows had metal bars running across them, and the heavy double doors, armored and plated with steel, seemed able to withstand the most vicious rabid attack.

  But it didn’t account for vampires.

  “Creative bastards, aren’t they?” Jackal mused as we silently circled the house, looking for points of entry, potential weak spots we could exploit. There weren’t many; every window was barred, the back door was armored, and spikes bristled around the perimeter and even from the roof. “If I wasn’t planning to eat the little bloodbags, I might be reluctantly impressed. As it is, this is just obnoxious. Hey, Kanin,” he called in a louder whisper, gazing at the other vampire a few paces away, “you still sold on this ‘enter quietly and leave’ bullshit? Right now I’m thinking a good ‘kick in the door’ approach would work better.”

  Kanin stopped at the edge of the pit and calmly assessed his surroundings. My demon was intrigued by Jackal’s suggested approach, anything to get us into the house sooner, but the Master vampire suddenly leaped the twenty-foot trench like it was a crack on the sidewalk, landing gracefully on the other side without impaling himself on the spikes. Grasping the thick iron bars in front of the window, he pulled them apart with as much effort as bending a wire and slid through the opening. Jackal snorted.

  “Or you could do that, I suppose.”

  We followed Kanin into the house, jumping over the trench, somehow avoiding the bristling spikes waiting on the other side, and sliding through the window. The interior was sparse and clean, with wooden floors and old, simple furniture, a bed of hot embers glowing in the hearth. We had come into what looked like a living room, with a kitchen off to the side, a dark hallway next to that, and a staircase to the second floor in the center of the room. I took a deep breath and caught the mingling scents of smoke and cut wood, livestock and dirt, and the distinct smell of warm-blooded creatures. The Hunger awoke with a vengeance, and I stifled an eager growl, feeling my fangs burst through my gums.

  Kanin, a dark figure against the wall, gestured at us to be silent, his eyes hard. I bit my lip, trying to calm down, though the Hunger refused to be ignored, now that prey was so close. The Master vampire pointed two fingers down the hallway, then again up the stairs. Four humans: two on the first floor and another two upstairs. All asleep. All thinking this fortified house would keep them safe.

  From rabids, perhaps. But not from me.

  Jackal shot me a hard yellow glare that very obviously meant don’t follow me and stalked away down the hall, making no
noise on the wooden floor. I watched him go, relieved that he was staying out of my way, and headed toward the staircase in the center of the room. I felt Kanin watching me as I started up the stairs, but between the Hunger and the anticipation of the end of the hunt, I barely noticed him.

  I glided up the staircase, silent as a ghost, and the Hunger grew stronger with every step I took. Until it was a dark, raging fire within, consuming me. My fangs pressed against my bottom lip, eager to rip and tear, to find a human and release the hot flood of power that pulsed through its veins. So many times, I’d pushed down the Hunger, denying my nature and the monster within. The old Allison, desperately fighting to stay human.

  No longer. I was a vampire, and I knew the outcome of this hunt. It was so easy to release my human conscience and emotions, to let the monster guide the way. I didn’t know why I’d been so stubborn. Trying to remain human had brought nothing but pain. I would not open myself up to that kind of hurt again.

  At the top of the stairs, another narrow hall stretched before me, with two identical wooden doors sitting across from each other. One was halfway open, revealing a bathroom. The other was firmly closed, but even through the wood, I heard the faint sounds of snoring.

  I smiled. Walking up to the door, I turned the handle and gave it a soft push. It swung back with a creak, revealing a small bedroom cloaked in shadow. A dresser, a mirror and a closet stood against one wall, two grimy, barred windows on the other. Pale moonlight filtered through ragged curtains and touched the foot of a large bed in the corner. I could see a lump beneath the covers, a head resting on the pillow, dark hair spilling over the edge. The Hunger surged up with a roar.

  Stepping into the room, I closed the door behind me with a faint click. It was all I could do to control myself, to not fly across the room with a snarl and sink my fangs into that exposed neck, ripping it open, spilling hot blood onto the white sheets. But Kanin would disapprove of a violent, bloody massacre, and besides, I would not let the Hunger overtake my will this time. I might be a monster, but I was not an animal.

  With deliberate steps, I walked across the room until I stood at the edge of the mattress, gazing down. A woman lay there, long hair unbound, breathing peacefully. Her face, though young, was lined and haggard, her forehead creased in a faint, consistent frown. I stood there, my shadow falling over the bed, watching my prey sleep, feeling the Hunger blaze like fire through my veins. I felt it beating the edges of my mind, howling at me to feed, to rip my prey apart and paint the sheets in blood. And still, I waited.

  The moment I knew I could turn and walk away, leave the room and its occupant unharmed, I struck.

  Gently pushing the long hair aside, being careful not to wake my prey, I parted my lips, dropped down, and sank my fangs into the side of her neck.

  She stiffened for the briefest of moments, a tiny gasp escaping, before slumping deeper into the pillow and the near delirium of a vampire’s bite. Hot, glorious blood filled my mouth, and I growled in ecstasy, sinking my fangs in deeper. The Hunger raged as I drank in my prey, wanting more, always more. Never satisfied. I reached the point where I’d be sated for another two weeks, where the Hunger would be demanding and constant, but not overpowering. Where, if I drew back and left now, my prey would be weakened and tired from blood loss, but still alive.

  I closed my eyes…and kept going. Continued feeding, never wanting to stop. Warmth and power filled me, intoxicating and overwhelming, and I didn’t resist. The demon and the Hunger approved, howling in glee, stifling any feelings of guilt or remorse I might’ve felt. Kanin would be displeased that I’d killed this mortal, drained it to an empty husk, but I’d already disappointed him beyond repair. The one person I’d wanted to keep my humanity for was gone. I might as well succumb to my base instincts once and for all and accept that, no matter what I did, I would always be a monster.

  The human grew pale beneath me, the skin taking on a deathly pallor. She made a tiny, breathy sound, a name breathed through pallid lips, as if she was lost in a nightmare. And, for just a moment, a tiny flicker of shame, of uncertainty, cut through the icy darkness within. I ignored it, sank my fangs in deeper, and continued to feed. This would be over soon. There’d be no more nightmares after this.

  “Mommy?”

  The muffled voice that came through the doorway was barely more than a whisper, but it gave me just enough of a warning. Retracting my fangs, I swiftly sealed the puncture wounds by pressing my tongue to my victim’s throat, just as the handle behind me clicked and turned. As the door began to creak open, I rose, swept across the room with vampire speed and grace, and ducked into the closet.

  Later, as I reflected on my actions, I didn’t know why I’d chosen to run, to hide. Maybe it was guilt after all, not wanting anyone to see me prey on a human. The shame of what I had to do to live. Or maybe it was just habit now. But I pulled the door shut behind me, leaving only a narrow strip to see through, and hovered there in the darkness. A literal monster in the closet, watching and waiting.

  Through the crack in the closet door, I saw a small figure in a ragged blue nightgown walk silently across the room to stand beside the bed. She was young, probably no more than eight, with stringy dark hair hanging down her shoulders and thin, birdlike arms. Those arms were wrapped around some kind of stuffed creature, holding it tightly to her chest, as she padded up to the mattress, her eyes large and frightened. Strangely, though I’d never seen this girl before, I felt a prick of recognition, making me frown. This scene was… familiar, somehow.

  “Mommy?” The little girl hovered at the edge of the covers, clutching her stuffed thing. “I had a nightmare. Wake up. Mommy?”

  Her whispers grew louder and more frightened as the figure in the bed refused to stir. Finally, the little girl reached out and shook the woman’s arm.

  “Mommy!”

  “Mmm?” The figure under the covers finally moved, dark head raising off the pillow to gaze at the child. She was very pale, her skin having taken on an unhealthy grayness. But, seeing the girl, she rose higher from the mattress, reaching out to stroke the child’s hair. “Abigail? What’s wrong, baby?”

  There was a sudden tightness in my chest. Something squeezing at my heart, making my throat ache with longing. Memories of another time, another life, much like this one. A tiny bedroom, ratty curtains fluttering in the icy breeze, a woman and a child in a single bed…

  Terrified, I clamped down on those emotions, shoving them back, trying to bury them in the darkness once more. I didn’t want to remember. I knew, with a grim certainty, that if I did remember, something inside me would unravel, and I didn’t want to face the fallout of whatever came to light.

  The little girl sniffled. “I had a nightmare,” she murmured. “I dreamed there were rabids climbing in the window. I was scared and came to find you, but you didn’t wake up.”

  “Come here, sweetheart,” the woman said, struggling to sit up. Her arms trembled as she pushed herself into a sitting position, leaning back against the headboard. But she didn’t seem to notice or care about her sudden weakness as she patted the sheets beside her. “Come up with me. Do you want me to tell you a story?”

  My stomach churned, that cold fist crushing my dead heart.

  Do you want me to read you a story, Allison?

  I took one staggering step back from the door. The woman and child vanished from sight, but that didn’t stop the realization. I recognized them now. I knew why this felt so familiar.

  It was me. This scene, the child in the room with the bed and ratty curtains…was me. Not the same place, obviously, and not the same circumstances, but I could still see myself in the girl: a skinny waif of only ten, climbing into bed with my mother. Listening to her soft voice as she read me a story I’d heard dozens of times before.

  The ache of longing spread, growing more painful, and I bit my lip to keep the sudden jealousy in check. Clenching a fist, I listened as the girl clambered onto the bed beside her mom and curled up with her ben
eath the covers. I remembered doing that, once. Feeling peaceful and content and not scared anymore, because my mom was right there, holding me. Outside our hovel, vampires stalked the night, and humans preyed on each other when they could, but when I was with her, I knew I was safe.

  Even though it was all a lie. When you lived in a vampire city, you were never safe. Even though my mother had followed the rules and was Registered, even though she had faithfully given blood every time it was required, they still came for her when she was too weak to get out of bed. They’d taken her blood, not caring that she was sick, not caring that a terrified ten-year-old watched from the corner, silently judging. Hating. Not caring that, after they left, the girl would see her mother waste away to nothing, that she would be out on the streets alone. And that hatred, planted inside her when the vampires’ Pets forced their way into her home, would grow into a searing, burning determination that would keep her alive when most others would’ve died. She would never submit to the vampires. She would never give them her blood. And she would hate them for the rest of her life. Because she had watched the most important thing in her life wither away and die…to feed them.

  Just like this girl.

  Oh, God. I staggered farther away from the door, brushing aside the handful of coats and dresses in the closet with me, and collapsed against the wall. Shock and horror rose up, breaking through the numbing cold, shattering the emptiness at last. I’m…I’m doing the exact same thing. That kid in there could be me. And I…

  I had become that monster. The thing that I hated most in the world. The demon that preyed on humans and cared nothing for what it left behind—a broken family, a distraught parent…or a little girl who had only grief and hate to sustain her.

  Sickened, I slid down the wall until I was sitting in the corner, while the murmuring voices of the woman and girl came to me through the closet door. What’s happened to me? I thought in numb despair. What the hell am I doing?