The Forever Song. Julie Kagawa
Читать онлайн книгу.
I clamped down on those emotions, shoving them back, trying to bury them in the darkness once more. I didn’t want to remember. I knew, with a grim certainty, that if I did remember, something inside me would unravel, and I didn’t want to face the fallout of whatever came to light.
The little girl sniffled. “I had a nightmare,” she murmured. “I dreamed there were rabids climbing in the window. I was scared and came to find you, but you didn’t wake up.”
“Come here, sweetheart,” the woman said, struggling to sit up. Her arms trembled as she pushed herself into a sitting position, leaning back against the headboard. But she didn’t seem to notice or care about her sudden weakness as she patted the sheets beside her. “Come up with me. Do you want me to tell you a story?”
My stomach churned, that cold fist crushing my dead heart.
Do you want me to read you a story, Allison?
I took one staggering step back from the door. The woman and child vanished from sight, but that didn’t stop the realization. I recognized them now. I knew why this felt so familiar.
It was me. This scene, the child in the room with the bed and ratty curtains...was me. Not the same place, obviously, and not the same circumstances, but I could still see myself in the girl: a skinny waif of only ten, climbing into bed with my mother. Listening to her soft voice as she read me a story I’d heard dozens of times before.
The ache of longing spread, growing more painful, and I bit my lip to keep the sudden jealousy in check. Clenching a fist, I listened as the girl clambered onto the bed beside her mom and curled up with her beneath the covers. I remembered doing that, once. Feeling peaceful and content and not scared anymore, because my mom was right there, holding me. Outside our hovel, vampires stalked the night, and humans preyed on each other when they could, but when I was with her, I knew I was safe.
Even though it was all a lie. When you lived in a vampire city, you were never safe. Even though my mother had followed the rules and was Registered, even though she had faithfully given blood every time it was required, they still came for her when she was too weak to get out of bed. They’d taken her blood, not caring that she was sick, not caring that a terrified ten-year-old watched from the corner, silently judging. Hating. Not caring that, after they left, the girl would see her mother waste away to nothing, that she would be out on the streets alone. And that hatred, planted inside her when the vampires’ Pets forced their way into her home, would grow into a searing, burning determination that would keep her alive when most others would’ve died. She would never submit to the vampires. She would never give them her blood. And she would hate them for the rest of her life. Because she had watched the most important thing in her life wither away and die...to feed them.
Just like this girl.
Oh, God. I staggered farther away from the door, brushing aside the handful of coats and dresses in the closet with me, and collapsed against the wall. Shock and horror rose up, breaking through the numbing cold, shattering the emptiness at last. I’m...I’m doing the exact same thing. That kid in there could be me. And I...
I had become that monster. The thing that I hated most in the world. The demon that preyed on humans and cared nothing for what it left behind—a broken family, a distraught parent...or a little girl who had only grief and hate to sustain her.
Sickened, I slid down the wall until I was sitting in the corner, while the murmuring voices of the woman and girl came to me through the closet door. What’s happened to me? I thought in numb despair. What the hell am I doing?
The monster snarled, angry and dismayed, reminding me that I was a vampire. It was my nature to hunt and kill and destroy. Human emotions meant nothing to me. Mortals were food, prey, nothing else. I felt its cold apathy to the scene outside, the welcome, icy indifference, and for just a moment, I teetered on the brink of falling into it again. Letting the monster shield me from pain, grief and the horrible, crushing guilt just beginning to emerge from the darkness. It was safer in the dark, the demon whispered, soothing and enticing. I wouldn’t feel anything, remember anything. I wouldn’t have to face the reason I’d sacrificed my humanity. Why I had let the monster win.
Why...
My hand rose to my neck, finding the thin silver chain that rested there, tracing the image of the tiny metal cross beneath my shirt. And just like that, all memories of him came rushing back.
Oh, Zeke.
My eyes stung, turning my vision red and blurry. The knot in my chest unraveled, the barrier holding those emotions back fraying to shadows, releasing everything in a flood. And in that tiny closet, with the humans I’d nearly slaughtered murmuring just outside the door, I put my head to my knees and shook with silent sobs. For the horror of what I was, what I had almost let myself become. For the shame of my lost humanity, even if it was for just a moment.
And for Zeke. I cried for the boy I had lost, the human who’d believed I was more than a monster, even if I couldn’t believe it myself. I’d never said a proper goodbye to him, had never let myself grieve his death before tonight. Vengeance had been the only thing on my mind, my utter hate for Sarren driving me forward. It hurt now, to realize Ezekiel Crosse was truly gone, and I would never see him again. In this world, or the next. Because Zeke’s soul had surely gone to its final resting place, far from the misery of this godforsaken hell, a place where demons and monsters and soulless creatures of the night could never follow. He was safe now, truly safe. He was with his father and all the people he had lost on the way to Eden, and they would never have to fear anything, ever again.
Gradually, the bloody tears slowed and finally stopped, leaving me empty and drained in that tiny corner. My face felt sticky, my throat ached, and my chest felt painfully tight. But, for the first time since I’d left New Covington, I could face the horror of what had happened in that lab without falling apart. I could finally remember. Sarren torturing Zeke for information about Eden and the cure, Zeke’s anguished screams and cries, that shining, terrible moment when he’d whispered...that he loved me. Right before Sarren had killed him.
I wondered if he could see me now, if he was horrified and disappointed at the thing I’d become. Or had he forgotten me? Maybe he didn’t even remember his mortal life. Maybe all the pain, grief and darkness he’d endured was nothing but a fading dream where he was now. I hoped so. I wanted him to forget. It was better that way, that he forget this world with its demons and monsters and darkness that smothered any tiny bit of hope or warmth. I would still have to endure, for eternity.
Bitterness joined the swirl of sorrow and regret. Kanin and Jackal had been right; I’d been hiding from this, letting the monster shield me from the pain, because I didn’t want to face the truth. Zeke was dead. I had to let him go.
Wiping my eyes, I rose to my feet, grief, shame and a hundred other emotions weighing me down. I welcomed them this time. Even if it was painful. Even if remembering made me feel like I’d never smile again. It meant that some tiny part of me was still human. I’d been so close to the edge tonight, on that brink of no return, as Kanin had warned. What would’ve happened if the monster had truly won?
Pulling out the chain, I closed my fingers around Zeke’s cross, closing my eyes. The edges pressed into my palm as I remembered, forcing myself to recall what he’d told me once. “You’re not evil,” he had whispered, those bright, solemn blue eyes staring into me, peeling away every defense. “No one who fights so hard to do the right thing is evil.”
I had to believe that. I had to believe that something in me was still human, that I wasn’t a complete monster.
Keep me human, Zeke, I thought, feeling a sharp flare of determination through the suffocating regret and guilt. My eyes burned once more, but I bit my lip and forced the tears back. I swear, I’ll keep fighting. I won’t forget again.
When I peeked through the closet door, the woman and little girl had fallen asleep, the mother curled protectively around her child. Easing into the room, I watched them silently, feeling that sharp ache of longing as I remembered my mother doing the same. The little girl sniffed and burrowed closer, her young face blissfully calm, free of worry or fear,