Rachel Caine & Kristin Cast & Claudia Gray & Nancy Holder & Tanith Lee & Richelle Mead & Cynthia Leitich Smith & P. C. Cast (19 page)

Holding the gun in one hand, Nathan slid his other arm around me and helped me stand. “I'll be okay,” I told him. “I should heal in fifteen minutes or so. Half-hour, tops.”

“We don't have that kind of time. Come on.”

“The car—”

“We can't get it. Let's just get out of here, and worry about transportation once we're away from this hellhole.”

Half-dragging me, Nathan led us down a hall that went out to the kitchen. The kitchen connected to the living room—where the action appeared to be fading, much to
my dismay. I felt pretty confident Bryan's group had won, but there must have been enough loose ends for them to not notice us in the kitchen yet. A small door led out to the backyard.

We stumbled outside, moving at an agonizingly slow pace. On the far side of the lot, we could see a stand of trees that hadn't been clear-cut yet. We aimed for those, hoping we could hide out.

“We can't stay too long,” he warned. “The sun'll be up soon.”

“Don't worry about me.”

“Lucy . . . what are you going to do? About the prophecy?” Nathan's voice was both curious and awed. “I still can't believe it's real.”

“Well, somebody does, or else all of that crap wouldn't be going on at the house.” I sighed. “I don't know what I'm going to do. I don't want any of it. I don't want anyone to die. I'm scared of my eighteenth birthday. I would give anything to avoid that first kill . . . but at the cost of killing my own people? I don't want either race to dominate the other. I don't want more killing. I wish . . . I wish there could be a balance between us.”

We came to a stop at the edge of the trees. Nathan's eyes were alive with excitement. We stood close, my breathing hard because of the extra exertion. “Maybe that's what you're supposed to do. Maybe you aren't supposed to destroy either race. You could bring them—bring us—together.”

I shook my head. “I don't know. I don't know.”

“I do.”

Bryan materialized from the darkness. The housekeeper had apparently reported our escape.

He approached us slowly, smiling. It was still hard to believe this was the same Bryan I'd grown up around. I'd always trusted him, looked to him to defend us from other vampires. I'd watched him kill other vampires too—but I'd never expected to be one of them.

“I'm sorry, Lucy,” he said. “I really am. But this is for the greater good. You've always been too squeamish about humans—we can't risk letting you have this power. I'm sorry.”

“Stop.” A voice cut through the night. Laurel approached from the side, trailed by one of her men. Both were armed, guns pointed at Bryan. She was gasping and bloody, and I couldn't believe she was still upright after what I'd witnessed in the living room. I wondered how many of her cohorts were still alive. She and the man behind her might be it.

“Unbelievable,” said Bryan, echoing my thoughts.

He eyed my leg and turned toward the new threat, again neglecting us for a more urgent fight—a fight that I suspected was going to be very, very short from the looks of Laurel and her friend. Nathan touched my arm.

“Come on, while they're distracted. . . .”

“We can't outrun him. Even with a head start.”

Bryan flew toward Laurel's counterpart. They fell to the ground, and though I couldn't quite see what was happening, I heard a shriek and wet, ripping noises. I pictured that happening to me and Nathan, imagined my own life—the life I'd wanted to do so many things with—vanishing.
Snuffed out like a candle. Adrenaline burned through me, powering through the bullet's pain, and I took a deep breath. I turned toward Nathan.

“Did you mean it before?” I said quietly. The man had stopped screaming. “About doing something great? Doing something that will change the world?”

Those beautiful, beautiful eyes widened. He understood. He knew exactly what I meant, and that's when I got it. That's why I'd been drawn to him from the beginning—and vice versa. It's why despite every reason he had to hate me, he still couldn't leave me. The disc had said I'd know who I was meant to choose when I created my thirteen.

“You'll be able to kill them,” I said. Laurel was screaming now. “But they can still kill you. And they'll try. They'll keep trying to kill both of us.”

There was no hesitation, no fear. I thought about the determination I'd witnessed in him all night. Nathan had the capacity to do so many things—he just wanted the chance to prove it. “Do it. Whatever you have to.”

I didn't hesitate either. In a flash, I rested my fingers on his head and murmured the words that had burned themselves into my mind when I'd seen the disc.

“By moon and dark, by sun and light, I bind you to me, now and forever, life to life, death to death.” I felt something crackle through the air as I spoke.

My mouth moved to his neck, and I let my teeth sink into his skin. The scent that had haunted me all night, his skin and sweat, flooded my nose, just as his blood spilled into my mouth. It was salty and warm and the most wonderful thing
I'd ever tasted. This was why vampires wanted humans. This was why we killed them.

But really, my bite was only a kiss. I pulled back, feeling that power continue to build between us. I had barely stepped away when Bryan came flying toward us, Laurel and the man dead. All vampires were dangerous, but Bryan was one of the most lethal. Few could stop him.

But Nathan did.

I'd never expected to see anyone match Bryan—certainly not a human. For Bryan, it must have been like hitting a brick wall. He staggered back, shocked. Nathan kept coming, beautiful and deadly. He punched Bryan in the face, causing the vampire to stumble again. Bryan came to his senses and pushed forward, taking the offensive.

For a moment, it was a deadlock. Neither could hit the other. Then, Nathan snaked in and grabbed Bryan by the shirt. Nathan slammed him into a tree and punched him—once, twice. Bryan's head hit the tree each time, and when the third blow came, he collapsed. We stared at each other, stunned.

“We have to go,” I said. “The others will come. My leg's just about healed.”

“Is he dead?”

“He will be soon, once the sun comes up. And so will I. We have to find a place to hide out for the night. Now.”

When Nathan didn't move, I realized he was in shock, shock over what he had just done and what he could now do.

“Can you do it?” I asked, suddenly afraid for no reason I could explain. “Can you stay with me?”

Nathan had made his feelings about vampires clear all night. It was one thing to say, “Sure! Make me a vampire killer!” in the heat of battle—and another thing to accept what it meant afterward.
And
who it had bound you to. Slowly, he seemed to wake out of his daze. He turned toward me.

His hand reached out and rested on the side of my neck. His fingers were warm, yet sent chills through me. My whole body seemed to want his, yet at the same time, I realized what I'd done. I'd created a human who could kill vampires. A human who could kill
me
. And as his hand rested on the side of my neck, I realized that all powers being equal, he was built stronger than me. He could end this now, kill me, and go on a vampire killing spree. No discrimination. No thought for a better world.

Time stood still. Everything rested on him and his choice. The hand on my neck tightened ever so slightly, and then it slid up and cupped the side of my face. He kissed me, and as our lips touched, I felt all the power of that initial bite race back through us. I wrapped my arms around him, our bodies growing warm. I had never experienced anything like this. We broke apart, dizzy and restless.

“That was . . . wow,” he said.

I swallowed. “I didn't know that was part of the prophecy.”

“That wasn't prophecy,” he said, still trailing fingers along my face. “That was us.”

“I thought you hated vampires?”

“You don't treat me like vampires do. You don't even treat me like most humans do.”

It was probably the highest compliment he could give. My heart fluttered. I wanted him to kiss me again, but dawn was closing in. “What are you going to do?” I had to be sure I could trust him with this power. “Will you stay with me?”

“I'm bound to you, remember?”

“Are you—”

“Bound, Lucy,” he said firmly. “Life to life, death to death.”

I didn't question him again. “Then let's go. The sun's going to come up.”

“And the moon's going down,” he murmured. “How long until the next blue one? Until your birthday?”

“Eight months.”

“We'd better hurry then.”

He caught hold of my hand, and together, we headed off into the night, off to change the world.

 

 

 

 

T
he vampires invaded New York the night Jilly turned sixteen. She was pacing in front of a club called Watami, waiting for Eli to show, eager to see what he had bought her. He was late, and she knew it was Sean's fault. Sean wouldn't want to come, because it was Jilly's birthday and Sean hated her. But Eli would make him do it, and they would show and she would wonder all over again why Eli couldn't love her like that . . . and how he could love someone who didn't like her.

Then, out of nowhere, the place was swarming with white-faced, bone-haired, blood-eyed monsters. They just started
attacking
, grabbing people and ripping open their throats—dancers, drinkers, bartenders, and her three best straight friends, Torrance, Miles, and Diego.

She still had no idea how she'd gotten out of there, but she called Eli first and then her parents.
No service, no service,
beepbeepbeep . . .
no texting, no net; no one could freakin' communicate.

She was Jilly Stepanek, lately of the Bronx, a semi-slacker who wanted to go to film school at NYU once she got her grades back up. She had been a neo-goth, into Victorian/ Edwardian clothes and pale makeup without the Marilyn Manson vibe, loved steampunk—but now all she was, was another terrified chick on the run from the monsters. Used to be the monsters were in her head; now they were breathing down her neck in real time.

No one stepped forward to represent the vampires or explain why they had taken over the five boroughs like the world's worst gang. There were no demands, no negotiations, just lots of dying. In less than a week, drained corpses—the homeless, first—littered the streets of Manhattan, SoHo, and the Village. As far as Jilly could tell, none of them rose to become vampires themselves. Maybe all the movies weren't true; maybe once they killed you, you were just dead.

The vampires had hunting animals like falcons that dug into their white arms. They were all head and wings, with huge white faces and bloodshot eyes and teeth that clack-clack-clacked like the windup false kind. Blood dripped and splattered onto the ground from the places the bird-suckers gouged their claws into their masters' arms, but—she observed from as far away as possible—either the vampires couldn't feel it or they liked it. Maybe it was their version of cutting.

The bird-suckers swooped and pirouetted across the night clouds, tearing the city pigeons to pieces. A few nights
of slaughter and they owned the skies. A few nights more, and there were no wild dogs on the island of Manhattan.

Three nights after her birthday, a vampire attacked and killed her father; its vampire-bird ran her mother to the ground while they were running out of their house. Jilly screamed for her mom to run faster, run faster, oh, God, but it swooped down on the back of her mother's head and started pecking and tearing. Her mother fell; her eyes were open but she wasn't seeing a thing. Blood from her neck gushed onto the sidewalk beneath a lamp post, and it looked like her shadow was seeping out of her body.

Hiding in the bushes, heaving, Jilly waited it out. Then she ran the other way, in nothing but a black chemise, some petticoats, her boots, and a long black coat she had bought at a garage sale.

She tried to get to Eli's row house but whole blocks exploded right in front of her, and others whooshed up in flames like paper lanterns. Weeping and gasping, she phoned him over and over; she texted with shaking hands.
No service, no service, beepbeepbeep.

She raced in circles to get past the fires as the smoke boiled up into the dotted clouds of clack-clack-clacking birds.

By four days after her birthday, the streets were a real jungle. The survivors were as vicious as the street dogs the vampires-birds had eaten: hoarding food, and threatening to kill each other over safe places to sleep and water bottles. She had some experience with hostility, from when she had gone drug-mad. Rehab and a lot of love had redeemed her, but the old lessons were not forgotten.

Dodging fiends and madmen, she stole tons of phones—or maybe she only took them, since there was no one left alive in the stores to ring up the sales—but there was really, really, really no service. Trying to find one that worked became an addiction. At least it gave her something to do—other than hide, and run.

Her therapist, Dr. Robles, used to caution her to ease up, not use her busy brain quite so much. He said she had to let go of loving Eli because people who were gay were gay; there wasn't going to be a change of heart no matter how much she wanted one.

She tried to find a cybercafé that the vampires hadn't gutted, but there were none to be found. She broke into office buildings and tried their computers, but they were fried. She wondered how the vampires did it. She was sure it was part of their plot to take over the world.