Julie Kagawa - The Eternity Cure

Back to New Covington. The place where it all began. Where I’d died and become a monster.

“So, you were born here, were you?” Jackal mused, gazing over the blasted field as we skirted the perimeter. “How positively nostalgic. How does it feel, coming back to this place as a vampire instead of a bloodcow?”

“Shut up , Jackal.” I paused, glancing at a broken fountain in front of an apartment complex. The limbless cement lady in its center gazed sightlessly back, and I felt a twinge of familiarity, knowing exactly where I was. The last time I’d seen New Covington, Kanin and I had been trying to get past the ruins into the forest before Salazar’s men blew us to pieces. “I thought I was done with this place,” I muttered, continuing past the statue. “I never thought I’d come back.”

“Aw,” Jackal mocked. “No old friends to see, then? No places you’re just dying to revisit?” His mouth twisted into a smirk as I glared at him. “I would think you’d have lots of people you’d want to contact, since you’re so fond of these walking bloodbags. After all, you’re practically one of them.”

I stifled a growl, clenching my fists. “No,” I rasped as memory surged up despite my attempts to block it out. My old gang: Lucas and Rat and Stick. The crumbling, dilapidated school we’d used as our hideout. That fateful night in the rain … “There’s no one here,” I continued, shoving those memories back into the dark corner they’d come from. “All my friends are dead.”

“Oh, well. That’s humans for you, always so disgustingly mortal.” Jackal shrugged, and I wanted to punch his smirking mouth. All through our journey from Old D.C., he’d been an entertaining, if not pleasant, travel companion. I’d heard more stories, pointed questions and crude jokes than I’d ever wanted to know about, and I’d gotten used to his sharp, often cruel sense of humor. Once I’d realized his remarks were purposefully barbed to get a rise out of me, it was easier to ignore them. We did almost come to blows one night, when he’d wanted to “share” an older couple living in an isolated farmhouse, and I’d refused to let him attack them. We’d gone so far as to draw weapons on each other, when he’d rolled his eyes and stalked away into the night, returning later as if nothing had happened. The next evening, three men in a black jeep had pulled alongside us, pointed guns in our direction and told us to get in the vehicle.

It had not gone well for them, but we did end up with that nice jeep. And with our Hunger temporarily sated, the tension between Jackal and me had been defused a bit. Of course, I still wanted to kick him in his smart mouth sometimes.

But he’d never brought up New Covington or my years as a human until now.

“So very fragile, these bloodbags,” he continued, shaking his head. “You blink and another one has up and died. Probably better in the long run, anyway. I’m sure you got the whole you must leave your past behind lecture from Kanin.”

“Jackal, just …” I sighed. “Just drop it.”

To my surprise, he did, not saying another word until we reached the drainage pipe that led into the sewers. It was an odd feeling, sliding through the pipe, emerging into the familiar darkness of the tunnels. The last time I’d done this, I’d been human.

“Ugh.” Jackal grunted, straightening behind me, wringing dirty water from his sleeves. “Well, it’s not the nastiest place I’ve ever crawled through, but it’s definitely up there. At least they’re not in use anymore. From what Kanin told me, all the human crap in the city used to flow through these kinds of tunnels.” He grinned as I gave him a sideways look. “Disgusting thought, ain’t it? Kind of makes you glad you’re not human anymore.”

Without replying, I started down the tunnels, tracing invisible steps back toward the city.

We walked in silence for a while, the only sounds our soft footsteps and the trickle of water flowing sluggishly by our feet. For once, I was glad that I was a vampire and didn’t have to breathe.

“So.” Jackal’s low, quiet voice broke the stillness. “How did you meet Kanin? It was here, right? You never told me much about you and him. Why’d he do it?”

“Do what?”

“Turn you.” Jackal’s eyes glowed yellow in the darkness of the tunnel, practically burning the side of my face. “He swore that he would never create another spawn after me. You must’ve done something to catch his attention, to make him break his promise.” Jackal smiled, showing the very tips of his fangs. “What made you so special, I wonder?”

“I was dying.” My voice came out flat, echoing down the tunnel. “I got caught outside the Wall one night and was attacked by rabids. Kanin killed them all, but it was too late to save me.” I shrugged, remembering the terror, the phantom pain of claws in my skin, ripping my body apart. “I guess he felt sorry for me.”

“No.” Jackal shook his head. “Kanin never Turned humans just because he pitied them. How many humans do you think we’ve watched die in horrible and painful ways? If he offered to make you immortal, he must have seen something in you that he liked, made him think you could make it as a vampire. He doesn’t bestow his ‘curse’ on just anyone.”

“I don’t know, then,” I snapped, because I didn’t want to talk about it anymore. “What does it matter? I’m a vampire now. I can’t go back and change his mind.”

Jackal raised an eyebrow. “Would you want to?”

His question caught me off guard. I thought of my life as a vampire, an immortal. How long had it been since I’d seen the sun, let it warm my face? How long since I had done anything truly human? I realized I didn’t remember what real food tasted like anymore. The Hunger had completely infused my memories so the only thing I ever craved was blood.

And the most ironic thing? If Kanin hadn’t Turned me, I would never have met Zeke. But being a vampire meant I could never be with him, either.

“I don’t know,” I said evasively, and heard Jackal’s disbelieving snort. Of course, it was easy for him—he reveled in his strength and immortality, caring nothing for those he slaughtered along the way. A few months ago, I’d been so certain, but now … if it came back to that night, lying in the rain as my life slowly drained away, and a vampire asked me, once more, what I wanted … would my choice be the same?

“What about you?” I challenged, to get him off the subject. “Why did Kanin Turn you? Certainly not for your charming personality.” He snorted a laugh. “So how did you meet Kanin? You two don’t seem like you’d get along very well.”

“We didn’t,” Jackal said easily. “Especially at the end, right before we parted ways. I guess you can say I was his biggest disappointment as a vampire.”

“Why?”

He smiled evilly. “Oh, no. You’re not getting my story that easily, sister. You want me to open up?” He grinned wider and pressed close, making me uncomfortable. His voice dropped to a low murmur. “You’re going to have to prove that I can trust you.”

“You can trust me? ” I pulled back to glare at him, feeling my fangs press against my gums. “You’re joking, right? I’m not the egotistical murdering bastard. I don’t toss unarmed humans into cages with rabids and let them rip them apart for sport! I’m not the one who put a stake in my gut and threw me out a window.”

“You keep harping on that,” Jackal said with exaggerated patience. “And yet, you are a vicious, murdering vampire, sister. It’s in your blood. When are you going to realize that you and I are exactly the same?”

We’re not , I wanted to snarl at him, but a noise in the tunnels ahead made me pause. Halting, I put up a hand and looked at Jackal, who had stopped, as well. He’d heard it, too.