“Kanin, wait,” I whispered as he started to turn. He paused, and I swallowed the tears to clear my throat. “I never…got the chance to thank you,” I said shakily, facing my sire for the very last time. “For everything. What you taught me—that I can choose what kind of monster I am…I won’t forget it.”
Kanin leaned forward, bent down, and very lightly touched his lips to my forehead. “I am proud of you, Allison Sekemoto,” he whispered as he drew back. “Whatever you decide, whatever path you choose to take, I hope that you will remain the same girl I met that night in the rain. The one decision for which I have no regrets.”
Then he turned and walked away, pausing only to grab his blade from where it lay on the deck, where Sarren had dropped it. I watched him, unable to move, unable to stop the flow of tears, as Kanin walked calmly to the edge of the platform and gazed down at the rabids below.
For just a moment, he stood there, a Master vampire, my sire, teacher, mentor and friend, silhouetted against the night sky. Then the bloody tears filling my eyes blinded me; I blinked them away, clearing my vision…
…and the ledge was empty when I looked back.
A chorus of mad screams and howls rose from the edge of the platform, vicious and bloodthirsty. I turned my face into the wall, clenching my teeth and squeezing my eyes shut, trying to block out the sounds. The screams from the rabids intensified, surging into the air, and the sudden smell of blood laced the wind, making me cry out and beat my fists against the wall, but Kanin made no noise. No cries of pain, no snarls of rage or hate, nothing. Only at the end, when the scuffles had died down, did I feel a last, brief stab of emotion from a dying Master. It wasn’t fear, or anger, or regret.
It was…contentment. Kanin was finally at peace.
Then the feeling flickered and died, and I felt our blood tie fade away, as the vampire who had damned the world, who had made me immortal even as he searched for a way to cleanse his soul, finally found his redemption.
Chapter 19
I was alone.
I couldn’t move. I couldn’t think. I could only kneel there on the cold deck, feeling the wall of the pilothouse press into my cheek, and sob. Behind me, the rabids hissed and clawed at each other, their harsh voices rising into the air, but I couldn’t even hate them. I couldn’t feel anything through the numbing grief, the horrible, aching knowledge that I had let my sire die. The fact that he had given his life to stop Requiem wasn’t lost on me, but I didn’t care. He had died saving the world, he had found his atonement, but all I knew right then was that Kanin was gone.
“Allie!”
I felt a presence drop beside me, and strong arms on my shoulders, pulling me back, away from the wall. I looked up and met Zeke’s blue eyes, peering down anxiously. He was soaked, his clothes drenched, and his skin was like ice, but it didn’t seem to affect him.
“Are you all right?” Zeke whispered, pressing one palm to my cheek, his gaze searching for wounds. I couldn’t answer, and his expression grew alarmed. “Allie, talk to me. Are you hurt? Where are Kanin and Jackal? Where’s Sarren?”
“They’re gone,” I choked out. “They’re all gone. Jackal took off again. Sarren got his stupid crazy head sliced off and fell overboard. And Kanin…” My gaze went to the edge of the deck, at the spot where Kanin last stood, calm and resolved, accepting his fate.
“Kanin…figured out the cure was inside him,” I whispered, feeling a fresh flood of tears press behind my eyes, even as I tried to compose myself. “Sarren told him as much. The cure was inside him, and he knew Requiem had to be stopped, before it could reach land. So…so, he…”
Zeke let out a slow breath. Reaching out, he pulled me against him, holding me as tightly as he could. “I’m sorry, Allison,” he murmured into my hair. He didn’t say anything else; there was nothing to be said. For a moment, we knelt there, clinging to each other, as the rabids shrieked below us and the ship plowed on, unconcerned with the passing of one of the last Master vampires.
Finally, I pulled back, wiping my burning face. “How did you get here, Zeke?” I murmured. And then, suddenly remembering why he had gone into the lake, gasped. “Where… where are Caleb and Bethany?” Desperation flared up again, as I realized he was alone. If, on top of everything else, those two little kids had drowned…
“They’re all right,” Zeke assured me, easing my panic. “I got to them in time.” He nodded to the second floor of the pilothouse, where two small white faces peered down at us. “They’re freezing,” Zeke muttered darkly, “and terrified, but they’ll be all right. At least for now. Had to piggyback them all the way here, and then find the ladder up, with them clinging to my back the whole way.” He shook his head ruefully. “I think it’s the first time I’ve been grateful to be a vampire— we wouldn’t have made it, otherwise.”
At the sight of the two kids, my Hunger surged up and roared to life. But Zeke’s fingers dug into my arms, and his voice became urgent. “Allison,” he said, as I clamped down on my bloodlust, trying to focus, “we’re not done yet. We have to stop the ship.” He nodded toward the edge of the deck. “There are still a lot of rabids down there. Even if they’re not infected, if this thing hits the checkpoint, it’ll be a massacre.”
I looked over the barge to where the lights of the checkpoint gleamed straight ahead. There didn’t seem to be enough time, and I was tired, hurt and starving. My sword arm still ached; I could just now flex my fingers, and there was still a shattered bone lodged somewhere in my chest. I wanted to lie motionless until whatever was broken inside me healed. I wanted to find the nearest human and plunge my fangs into their throat. And I wanted to find a quiet place to curl up and mourn my sire. Instead, I nodded and pulled away from Zeke, wiping the last of the blood from my eyes.
“Come on, then,” I told him, making my way around the pilothouse, toward the stairs to the top deck. “The door to the controls is welded shut, but if we can get it open, we might be able to stop this thing.”
I hurried up the steps, ignoring Caleb and Bethany’s small, shivering figures as they huddled together on the second floor, desperately keeping my Hunger under control. The demon screamed at me to attack, to leap down and rip open a child’s throat, knowing it would soothe the pain stabbing me from inside. It took all my willpower to keep going when Caleb called out to me, waving a pale, twiggy arm in my direction.
We reached the door to the pilothouse. I put my shoulder to the metal and slammed into it, ignoring the pain that rocketed through my body. It didn’t budge, and Zeke joined me, slamming into the door, trying to break it open.
“No good,” he muttered after we’d crashed into it a few times to no avail. “It’s not going to open.”
I glared at the door, anger and desperation rising up to dance with each other. I’m a Master vampire, I thought, clenching my fists. Though the notion was still hard to believe—me, a Master vampire like Kanin? Like a Prince? But I trusted my sire, and I knew he would never lie to me. Kanin would be able to get through. And I’m not going to let those people on shore die just because of a damn door. So, open up, you stupid thing!
I bashed into it once more, putting the last of my strength behind the blow. The impact jarred my body, sending a flare of pain through my almost-healed ribs, but the door flew open with a crash, and I stumbled inside.
The moment of triumph soon faded, though, once we were in the pilothouse. The controls, complicated and unfamiliar already, had been smashed and bent beyond repair. The wheel had been ripped off, broken, and was lying in pieces in the corner. Sarren had locked his course in, just as Kanin had guessed, and there’d be no changing direction, not from here, anyway.
“Dammit!” I snapped, gazing around helplessly. Through the window, the lights of the shoreline glimmered frighteningly close. “What now?”
“The anchor,” Zeke said, pointing to a metal box on the wall, with a single button in the center. “Drop anchor—it might be enough to turn this thing so it doesn’t crash into the checkpo
int.”
I slammed my thumb into the button. There was a click, but nothing happened. The barge continued to plow toward shore with no signs of slowing down.
“He must’ve cut the chain,” Zeke growled, running both hands through his hair. “And there’s no time to get to the engine room, even if we could get in.” He closed his eyes, pressing his fists to his forehead. “What are we going to do?”
Desperate, I gazed at the barge, past the rabids milling below on the platform, to the back of the ship. I spotted the chain Zeke was referring to, the one that was supposed to be attached to an anchor, lying in a neat coil on the deck. There was no anchor, obviously, but there were a pair of open metal containers lying close by, identical to the ones the rabids were prowling through below. And the ghost of an idea went through my mind. It was a gamble, and we’d have to get past that huge mob of rabids, but there were no options left. We were out of time.
“Come on,” I told Zeke, backing away from the controls. “I just thought of something.”
I whirled toward the door, but froze when I saw Caleb in the frame, pale and shivering, gazing up at me with big, dark eyes.
“Allie,” he said, a shaky smile spreading over his face. “I kn-knew it. I knew you’d come back.”
The demon surged up with a roar. Before I could move, Zeke sprang forward and grabbed me around the waist even as my fangs slid out and I tensed to lunge, to pounce and rip open the child’s throat.
“Caleb, get back!” Zeke shouted, and Caleb’s eyes went huge with fear. Zeke held me tight, his arms like steel bands around me, even as I squeezed my eyes shut and turned into him, fighting for control. “Go down to the bottom floor with Bethany and stay there,” Zeke ordered, his voice firm, as I clenched my fist in his shirt and pressed my forehead to his chest. “When we leave, you and Bethany come into this room, bar the door and don’t open it for anyone but me, you hear?”
My demon howled, and the Hunger ripped and tore at my insides, both driving me insane. I heard Caleb sniffle, heard his frightened voice start to protest, and Zeke’s voice hardened. “Now, Caleb!”
The child broke into hiccupping sobs and fled. Zeke didn’t relent until the footsteps on the stairs disappeared, then very carefully loosened his grip, though not enough to let me go.
“Allie?”
“I’m okay,” I said through gritted teeth. The Hunger burned through my veins, relentless and terrible, but I forced my fangs to retract and stilled the thoughts of pouncing on a child and sinking my teeth into his throat. “Thanks for catching me.”
“Always, vampire girl.” Zeke pressed his forehead to mine. “Just promise me you’ll do the same. We’ll catch each other.” He glanced up, making sure Caleb was gone, then pulled away. “But right now, we have to stop a ship. What were you planning to do?”
Oh, yeah. The ship. “This way,” I said, leading him back down the stairs. I smelled Caleb and Bethany, somewhere close by, but I couldn’t let myself think of them right now. Back on deck, I gazed across the platform and the maze of shipping containers below, to the other side of the ship. A chill ran up my spine. Rabids screamed and hissed at us from below, and the shoreline was frighteningly near. We had a few minutes at most.
“What’s the plan, Allison?”
I pointed across the chasm. “The chain,” I said, and his gaze fell to the heavy coils by the side of the ship. “The anchor is gone, but if we attached the chain to that container and push it over the side…”
“It might be enough drag to turn the barge,” Zeke finished. “Especially when it fills up with water. It won’t stop the ship, but it just needs to turn it so that it misses the checkpoint.” He nodded slowly, though his expression was unsure. “It just might work, but that container is huge, Allie. Can we move it?”
“We have to,” I growled, and he didn’t argue. Reaching back, I pulled my sword, my fingers still stiff from when Sarren had broken my arm. “We’ll have to go through the rabids,” I said, as Zeke drew his machete, as well. “If we stay on top of the containers, they shouldn’t be a problem. But we have to reach the other side. Nothing else matters now.”
Zeke nodded and raised his weapon. “Go,” he said, nodding to the edge of the deck. “I’m right behind you.”
I stepped to the edge of the platform and surveyed the labyrinth of containers, trying to gauge the best path to the other side. Instantly, the rabids surged forward with screams and wails, clawing at the wall, trying to leap at me. Their numbers were smaller now, I realized, and pale bodies were scattered about the deck, twisted and in pieces. The Master vampire, though severely outnumbered and intending to die, had not gone quietly into his eternal night.
I deliberately kept my gaze from straying to the suspicious dark blot in the center of the platform. The place my sire had fallen.
Taking one step back, I gathered myself and leaped off the deck, aiming for the top of the nearest shipping container. I hit the roof with a ringing clang, and the rabids immediately swarmed around it, their talons screeching off the sides. One of them clawed its way up the backs of its fellows, hissing as it scrambled up beside me. I cut the head from its shoulders with a quick slash of my blade, and it tumbled back into the masses.
Zeke landed behind me with a clang, and together we fled for the opposite side, the rabids screeching and swarming below us. Leaping from container to container, we crossed the platform with only a few pale monsters managing to claw their way onto the roofs. Screaming, they hurled themselves at us, blind with rage, but we cut them down and kept going.
Reaching the edge of one container, I skidded to a halt. This was the last roof we had to cross, and there was one final, very high jump we had to make before we reached the other side of the barge. To even have a chance I needed a running start, but two rabids blocked my way, hissing and snarling as they came forward.
Or one of them did, anyway. The other staggered, looking confused. As the first rabid lunged and met a swift end on my katana, the second shook its head, nearly falling off the edge of the roof. Its face had been clawed open until it was more skull than flesh, but small patches of skin were starting to grow over the gaping wounds.
The rabid shook itself and came at me again, hissing, but it was slower now, its movements not nearly as frantic as before. I easily cut it down and kicked it off the edge of the roof, letting it drop to the swarm below.
“You all right?” Zeke asked, coming up behind me. Dark blood streaked his arms, face and machete, but it wasn’t his own. His fangs glinted as he spoke. “What happened?”
I shook my head, wanting to explain what I’d seen with the rabid, but there was no time. “Nothing,” I said, facing the edge of the deck, and the long jump before it. “Ready for this?” I asked, shooting a quick glance at Zeke. “Can you make it?”
A rabid clawed its way up behind us and shrieked, and Zeke tensed. “I don’t have a choice. Go!”
I ran for the edge of the container and flung myself into empty space. Maybe it was the new knowledge that I was a Master vampire, or maybe I was just desperate, but it felt like I leaped higher than I ever had before. I struck the top of the deck with room to spare and instantly whirled, lunged forward, and grabbed Zeke as he fell toward the edge of the platform, yanking him to safety.
We sprawled on the deck for only a moment, tangled in each other, our fingers interlocked, before scrambling upright. The open container sat at the edge of the barge, empty and hollow in the moonlight, and I sprinted toward it.
“Grab the chain!” I told Zeke, snatching a length of the massive, heavy links myself. The coils were huge, individual links larger than my fist. It wouldn’t snap, that was for certain. I just had to make sure it wouldn’t break from the container. Dragging it to the metal box, I searched for something to attach it to. Thick steel bars ran vertically up the back of the open doors; I wound the chain through them, then looked around for something to secure them in place.
“Allie!” Zeke tossed me a pipe. I grabbed it
, shoved it through the metal links and, gritting my teeth, bent the pipe around the chain, twisting it several times.
There, I thought, taking a step back, surveying my handiwork. The chain was attached to the container, the doors already open. Now all we had to do was shove it overboard and hope that a huge metal box filled with water would be enough drag to turn the ship.
Something moved from the corner of my eye, and the blood froze in my veins.
No. It can’t be. He should be dead.
I whirled, shouting a desperate warning, and Zeke glanced up from where he was unwinding the heavy coils of chain. Too late.
A long, curved blade erupted from Zeke’s chest, punching into the air and gleaming in the moonlight, and Zeke screamed. Sarren, dripping wet, fangs bared in a terrifying snarl, lifted him off his feet, pushing the impaled vampire into the air, and I roared.
Drawing my katana, I flew at Sarren, who swung his arm and hurled Zeke’s body away before turning on me. Zeke crashed to the deck several yards away, crying out in agony, and I closed on Sarren.
“Why won’t you just die!” I screamed, slashing my blade at the mad vampire, intending to cut him in half. No more taking chances; this time I’d sever his head, his legs, his other arm, his spine. I’d slice him into a dozen pieces and scatter them to different ends of the earth to make certain he was dead.
Sarren blocked my swing with his sword, lunged in, and grabbed my throat. Still insanely fast. I felt my feet leave the ground as my opponent lifted me up and slammed me onto the deck with a crash that made my head ring.