under his protection, you had to consent to his rules.
In my seventeen years of living in New Covington, the Wall had never once been abandoned.
“Something is wrong,” I muttered as Jackal and I stood on the outskirts of the kill zone, the flat, barren strip of ground that surrounded the Wall. Pits, mines and coils of barbed wire covered that rocky field, making it deadly to venture into. Spotlights—blinding beams of light that were rumored to have ultraviolet bulbs in them to further discourage rabids from coming close—usually scanned the ground every fifty feet. They were dark now. Nothing moved out in the kill zone, not even leaves blowing across the barren landscape. “The Wall is never unmanned. Not even during lockdowns. They always keep the lights on and the guards patrolling, no matter what.”
“Yeah?” Jackal scanned the Wall and kill zone skeptically. “Well, either the Prince is getting lazy, or Sarren is wreaking his personal brand of havoc inside. I’m guessing the latter, unless this Prince is a spineless tool.” He glanced at me from where he was leaning against a tree trunk. “Who rules New Covington anyway? I forgot.”
“Salazar,” I muttered.
“Oh, yeah.” Jackal snorted. “Little gypsy bastard, from what Kanin told me. One of the older bloodlines, prided himself on being ‘royal,’ for all the good it did him here.” He pushed himself off the tree and raised an eyebrow. “Well, this was your city, once upon a time, sister. Should we walk up to the front gate and ring the doorbell, or did you have another way in?”
“We can’t just walk across the kill zone.” I backed away from the edge, heading into the ruins surrounding the Wall, the rows of dilapidated houses and crumbling streets. There were still mines and booby traps and other nasty things, even if the Wall wasn’t being patrolled. But I knew this city. I’d been able to get in and out of it pretty consistently, back when I was human. The sewers below New Covington ran for miles, and weren’t filled with rabids like the Old D.C. tunnels. “The sewers,” I told Jackal. “We can get into the city by going beneath the Wall.”
“The sewers, huh? Why does this not surprise me?” Jackal followed me up the bank, and we wove our way through the tall weeds and rusted hulks of cars at the edge of the kill zone, back into the ruins. “You couldn’t have mentioned this on the way?”
I ignored him, both relieved and apprehensive to be back. It had taken us the better part of a month, walking from Old D.C. across the ravaged countryside, through plains and forest and countless dead towns, to reach the walls of my old home. In fact, it would’ve taken us even longer had we not stumbled upon a working vehicle one night. The “jeep,” as Jackal called it, had cut down our travel time immensely, but I still feared we’d taken too long. I hadn’t had any dreams to assure me that Kanin was still alive, though if I concentrated, I could still feel that faint tug, urging me on.
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
