“Death isn’t the answer,” I growled, gritting my teeth through the pain in my ribs. “Destroying everything, letting the world start over, isn’t the answer. You’re just giving up. But there are still things worth fighting for, things worth living for.”
Sarren gave me a look of genuine pity. “No, little bird,” he said, shaking his head. “You are still an infant demon, far too young to know the truth. Eternity is not a gift. It is a curse. The longer you live, the bleaker and darker the world becomes, until you are stumbling around, blind, in the shadows. Kanin knows, don’t you, old friend?” He looked at my sire, smiling faintly. “You long for oblivion, for an end to your eternal wandering. But you’re afraid of what comes after, that the evil staining your soul will send it to damnation. And so, you continue to live, to exist, in the hell you created, hoping to atone for what you have done.” Sarren chuckled, and it sent a chill up my spine. “But there is no redemption for us, old friend,” he whispered. “Nothing can wipe away what we have caused, the centuries of blood and death. How can we cleanse our souls, when the very world around us pulses with rot and filth and decay?” Sarren’s lip curled in a snarl of disgust. “No, it is time to end it. It is time to wipe the sickness clean, once and for all. And you, little bird, will not stop it!”
He lunged, coming in fast, swinging his blade at my face. I hadn’t forgotten how quick the insane vampire really was, but knowing how fast Sarren could move did me no good here. Even though I was expecting it, I barely managed to leap back, desperately swinging my katana to keep him at bay. At the same instant, Kanin stepped in with his knife, cutting at his throat. But Sarren blocked my swing, dodged Kanin’s weapon, and lashed out with a kick, striking me in the chest. As I was hurled away, I saw Sarren spin toward the other vampire, whirling his ax in a vicious arc toward his neck. This time, Kanin ducked beneath his arm, stepped in, and plunged his blade into Sarren’s stomach, ripping it out the other side.
Sarren roared. As I staggered to my feet, feeling the sharp throb of my ribs explode with pain, the vampire lunged at Kanin, striking him a glancing blow across the temple even as Kanin responded with a stab to his chest. I started forward, intending to jump back into the fray, but Kanin spared me a split-second glance as Sarren reeled back. “Get to the wheelhouse!” he ordered as Sarren hissed like a furious snake and came at him again. “Don’t worry about me—turn the barge, Allison!”
Sarren roared again, his mad eyes snapping to me, and I took off, running full tilt for the pilothouse. I saw the crazy vamp start toward me, but Kanin lunged at him with a terrifying snarl of his own, forcing him to turn. Hitting the stairs, I leaped up to the third floor, ignoring the rabids, who screamed and hissed at me from below, trying to scramble up the metal barrier. I reached the last deck, where a line of dark windows surrounded a tiny room with a metal door, grabbed the handle, and wrenched it down.
It didn’t budge. I twisted it again, putting all my vampire strength into turning it, but the door didn’t move. I looked closer and saw the metal along the edge of the door had been fused together, welded shut, and the windows had thick iron beams running across them from inside.
“No, no, little bird,” hissed Sarren’s terrifying voice, and the vampire heaved himself onto the deck one-handed. Blood covered his face, running down his white skin, seeping into the web of scars. “That is not for you.”
I snarled my fear and swung at him wildly; his free hand shot out, grabbed my wrist, and wrenched me off the deck, hurling me into space. I felt a stab of instant terror as the swarm of screaming, infected rabids rushed toward me as I plummeted, before I struck the edge of the metal container with a jolt and a fresh blaze of agony.
Wincing, I looked up to see Sarren descending toward me, his blade scything down at my head, and threw myself aside. The vampire hit the container with a thud and a ringing screech, sending sparks flying off the metal.
My katana lay a few feet from my arm. I reached for it, but Sarren stepped up and brought his foot smashing down on my elbow. Bones snapped, but my scream was cut off as the vampire kicked me in the ribs, driving me into the railings and shattering my world into shards of agony.
A roar echoed across the deck. I looked back to see Kanin, his face and arm streaked with blood, descend on Sarren like an avenging angel, driving him back. For a few brief, frantic moments, the two vampires snarled and fought each other at the very edge of the container, one step away from plummeting into the swarm below. I tried to get up, to help Kanin, but though my wounds were healing, the bones slowly knitting back together, I could barely move more than a few inches without gasping in pain.
Kanin’s dagger suddenly got through, plunging into Sarren’s chest; the vampire howled. Before Kanin could pull back, Sarren grabbed his wrist, sinking the blade deeper into his own body while slashing at Kanin’s throat. Kanin threw himself to the side to avoid it, leaving his dagger embedded in Sarren’s chest, and stumbled to edge of the platform.
I cried out as for a brief second he teetered there, looking like he would fall. I heard the rabids erupt into a frenzy of screeching, knew they were leaping and clawing for the vampire overhead. All Sarren had to do was shove him back, and Kanin would fall off the edge to his death.
But Sarren reached out, snagged Kanin by the collar, and threw him away from the ledge. Kanin hit the ground and rolled, coming to stop a few feet from me, a split-second look of astonishment crossing his face.
Sarren shook his head at us.
“Ah, ah,” he crooned, waggling a bony finger. “None of that. Can’t have you spreading your nasty sickness and ruining the symphony. We’re just getting to the climax.” Reaching for the dagger still stuck in his chest, he pulled it loose, regarded it calmly, and dropped it to the deck. “And now, I think it’s time I killed you, old friend,” he mused, starting forward. “Once and for all.”
Kanin straightened calmly, unarmed, and watched the mad vampire stalk toward him. Clenching my jaw, I pushed myself upright, gritting my teeth to keep the scream contained. Every movement still stabbed like a knife, and my right arm dangled uselessly, but my left one still worked. Enough to hold a sword, anyway. Taking one step forward, I put myself between Sarren and my sire and bared my fangs. “You’ll have to get past me,” I snarled, raising my katana. Sarren looked at me in amused surprise, then chuckled.
“Oh, little bird. I see now.” He nodded slowly, smiling almost to himself. “I see why Kanin chose you. You don’t know when to stop. You continue to rage against the inevitable, beating your wings against the coming darkness, even as it drags you down into its sweet, eternal embrace.” His fangs gleamed through the shadows at me. “You have such fire, such…hope. And for someone like Kanin…it must have been irresistible. Even though he told himself it was futile to hope.” Cocking his head, he regarded me intently. “So…you must represent everything he believes in. Everything he longs to atone for.”
I spared a glance at Kanin, a few feet from the railings, watching us. His expression was blank, but I met his dark gaze and saw a hundred different emotions staring back at me. Something inscrutable passed between us, a fleeting understanding, almost too fast to be real. Whether it was through our blood tie or something else, I wasn’t certain, but I knew what I had to do.
I gave a tiny nod, and turned back to Sarren.
“What would it do to him,” Sarren mused, unaware of our brief connection, “if I destroyed you right here? Right before his eyes. Everything he hopes for, gone in an instant. I might not even have to kill him afterward. With his little bird gone, with her song silenced forever, there will be nothing to save him from his own despair.” He finally glanced at Kanin, a truly evil gleam in his eyes. “How does that sound to you, old friend?”
I took one step forward and bared my fangs.
“Hey, psychopath,” I snarled, and Sarren’s gaze flicked to me. “Why don’t you stop talking already? You’re worse than Jackal ever was, and unless you intend to yap me to death, let’s get on wit
h it.” I raised my katana one-handed, giving him a challenging sneer. “I’m not dead yet.”
Sarren laughed and faced me fully, his fangs sliding into view. “Very well, little bird,” he whispered as I gripped my sword and prepared myself. “If you are that eager for death, I will oblige you. Your prince is gone, your brother has deserted you, and Kanin will not be able to save you. You are alone. Think on that, as I send you to hell.”
He attacked, his sword arm a streak of metal in the darkness, coming right at me. I didn’t try to block, or counter. As Sarren stabbed forward, I leaped back and half turned, tossing my blade aside.
To Kanin.
Sarren’s eyes widened as he realized what was happening. He spun, the blade missing my head by inches, to face the unexpected attack from behind. But Kanin was already moving, the katana cutting a deadly arc through the air, right at Sarren’s neck, and the mad vampire desperately lunged back to avoid it.
Too late. The edge sliced into his throat in a spray of crimson, opening a huge gash below his chin. Sarren’s head fell back, the gaping wound streaming blood down his entire front, as his mouth made harsh gurgling sounds and his hand groped at his opened throat. He staggered away, hit the railings, and tumbled over the edge of the barge, vanishing into the foaming waters below.
* * *
Sarren was gone.
I slumped against the railing, shaking with relief, as about a thousand different hurts decided to make themselves known. My arm throbbed, and I didn’t know how much was broken inside, but it felt like my entire rib cage was in pieces, stabbing me with every motion. I was healing; I could feel wounds closing, bones knitting back together, but it was agonizingly slow, and the Hunger had roared up full force with the damage. I needed blood, but there was no one around. No one human, anyway. And we couldn’t relax just yet.
Setting my jaw, I pushed myself upright, gritting my teeth against the instant flare of pain, and looked around for Kanin.
He stood at the side of the barge, still holding my katana in one pale hand, his dark eyes staring at the place Sarren had fallen. His expression was unreadable, and for some reason, it sent a twist of fear through my stomach.
“Kanin?” I limped up to him, searching his face. His eyes were glazed, and he didn’t seem to have heard me. My fear increased. Something was wrong. We had to stop this ship before it plowed straight into the refugee camp and set Requiem loose on the world. Kanin knew that. Why was he just standing there?
“Hey.” I grabbed his arm, and he jerked, finally looking down at me, though his expression was still distant, far away. “We have to stop the ship,” I told him. “Kill the engine, turn it around, something! How do we do that? Tell me what to do.”
He blinked at me. “The pilothouse,” he said, as if just coming out of a daze. “Get inside, turn the ship, if Sarren hasn’t locked in the controls. Go,” he continued, pushing the katana into my hands. “You might still have enough time.”
I started off but paused, remembering the welded door, and turned back to look at him. He had left the railings, and was gazing at the end of the platform, where the infected rabids screeched and clawed at themselves below. For a moment, he hesitated, then stepped toward the edge.
“Kanin!” I lunged back, grabbing his arm. “Are you crazy? What are you doing?” My sire gazed down at me, his expression resigned, and I tightened my grip on his sleeve. “You know something,” I guessed, searching his face. “You were going to do something without me.”
He didn’t reply, and I met his eyes, pleading. “Kanin,” I whispered. “Please. It’s just us now. Tell me what’s going on.”
Kanin sighed, and his shoulders slumped as he bowed his head. “It’s me,” he finally whispered, almost too soft to hear.
I frowned in confusion. The barge lurched forward, relentless, and a few yards away, the screams of the infected rabids echoed from the bottom of the ship, but Kanin seemed to have forgotten all of them.
“What do you mean?”
“I figured it out,” he went on, his voice barely above a murmur. “What Sarren meant, why he didn’t let me fall.” I still stared at him in bewilderment, and his gaze drifted to the edge of the deck, where the rabids waited on the other side.
“The cure,” he whispered, making my stomach twist. “Dr. Richardson said they were missing vampire blood to finish the cure. That research is gone now, but they gave what they had to Ezekiel, before he left Eden to find you.” His gaze returned to me, dark and intense. “And in New Covington, when I was dying from Sarren’s first virus, you injected me with Ezekiel’s blood, and it saved my life. It was enough to cure the sickness.” He lightly touched his chest. “That research flows through me now, through my blood.”
And what Kanin was saying hit me like a ton of bricks, and I stared at him in shock. “The blood of a Master vampire,” I whispered, stepping back. “That means, the cure…”
“Is me,” Kanin said again. “The cure—for Requiem, for Rabidism…is in me.”
I gaped at him, staggered by the implications. The cure! The cure for Rabidism at last. Sarren had fought so hard to destroy it, to kill any hope that one could be found, and it had been in Kanin all along. The blood of a vampire, combined with the research—the vaccine—that had been given to Zeke just before he’d left Eden to find me.
Would it really work? It seemed too good to be true, almost too easy. But Zeke had survived Sarren’s first virus, and Kanin was one of the few vampires who could still produce offspring without creating rabids. His blood was strong, the blood of a Master vampire; it just might be enough.
“That’s amazing, Kanin,” I whispered, still reeling from the discovery. “We just have to stop the ship, find a way to get you to a lab. If the cure is in you, we just need your blood to end Rabidism for—”
“Allison.” His voice made me freeze, the words dying in my throat. Kanin peered down at me, gentle and resolved. “There is no time,” he murmured, shaking his head. “Look.”
I stared over the railings, into the night. At first, there was nothing. Then, through the waves and shadows, a light winked in the darkness, and my heart plummeted.
That was the checkpoint, and landfall. We were closer than I thought.
“We’re too close,” Kanin said, his voice unnaturally calm. “Even if Sarren has not locked in the controls, there is no time to turn the ship around. And once it runs aground, the rabids will escape, and Requiem will still destroy the world once it begins to spread. We cannot risk the virus reaching land. We must stop it here.” He paused, his next words very soft, but filled with resolve. “I must stop it here.”
“How?” I asked, without really thinking about it.
Kanin smiled down at me, a faint, sad, gentle smile, and the world just stopped.
“No.” I stepped in front of him, horror flooding my veins, turning my insides cold. My sire only continued to watch me, and I grabbed the front of his shirt in desperation. “Kanin, no! You can’t. There has to be another way.”
“There is no other way.” His voice was calm, subdued. He put a hand on my arm, as if to push me off, and I tightened my grip. I didn’t care what he thought. I wasn’t going to let him do this. I’d lost so many; even Jackal, the blood brother I’d never thought I would miss, was gone, probably to his death. I could not lose Kanin, the last member of my family, the one who had given me a second chance and a family in the first place.
“Allison.” Kanin gazed down at me, his dark eyes gentle but intense. He didn’t shove me away, or pry me loose, though he could’ve freed himself as easily as opening a door. “Let me do this.” I shook my head, unable to speak, but his voice never wavered. “It has to be me. Requiem cannot be allowed to spread. The cure is inside me, and the rabids have to receive it before this ship runs aground. That’s what Sarren was talking about. He knew. He knew that if my blood got into their system, his plan would fail. With the rabids’ accelerated healing, the cure will spread through them very quickly, and Requiem wi
ll be destroyed.”
“We don’t know that,” I choked out as my eyes started to burn. “We don’t know what Sarren really meant. You could be throwing your life away, Kanin.”
“No.” Kanin shook his head, almost in a daze. “It makes sense. The blood of a Master is the only thing strong enough to counter the virus. Sarren knew that whatever was in Ezekiel was the key to the cure. The only thing missing…was vampire blood.” His eyes closed, his head tilted back toward the sky. “I’ve searched so long,” he whispered. “So long for a way to atone, to be forgiven for what I caused. And now, everything has come full circle, as it should. This is my redemption.” Opening his eyes, his hands rose, coming to rest on my shoulders, squeezing gently. “I started this, Allison. It’s only fitting that I end it, as well.”
“Kanin.” Tears were streaming down my cheeks now, bloody and hot, making it difficult to see. Leaning forward, I collapsed against him, clutching at his shirt. “You can’t,” I choked out, knowing it was futile. That he’d already made up his mind. “Don’t…leave me. What am I going to do… when you’re gone?”
Very slowly, his arms slid around me, holding me against him. “You won’t be alone,” he murmured, bending his head close to mine. “You have Ezekiel. The road will be hard, and you might have to save each other from time to time. But Ezekiel has surprised me, and you are one of the strongest vampires I have ever seen. I’ve taught you everything I can.” He pulled back, smiling down at me. “You don’t need me anymore.”
I couldn’t speak. I could barely see him through the tears. Silently, I let my hands drop from his chest, desperation giving way to despair. Kanin held me a moment longer, then lowered his arms and stepped back, his stare appraising.
“You are my last offspring,” he murmured. “My legacy to this world.” His eyes went solemn, and he brushed a knuckle across my cheek. “You’re a Master now, Allison,” he stated simply. “Possibly the first to have been created since the Rabidism plague. I’ve known it since that night in Old Chicago, when you came out of hibernation—only a Master vampire would revive so quickly. And you will continue to grow stronger and stronger, until you are a match for even the Princes of the cities.” I blinked in surprise, and he gave a faint smile as he stepped away. “Now, it is your turn to leave your own mark on the world.”