Blood Ties Book Four: All Souls' Night

“You’ll never find him,” Dahlia called from the top of the stairs, sounding truly angry for the first time since we’d arrived. “He’s probably already dead!”

“No, he’s not,” I retorted calmly, putting myself between her and Bill while he staggered out the door. “If the Soul Eater wanted him dead, he could have done it years ago. He wouldn’t need the help of some second-rate witch to do it.”

I made it out just as another bolt of whatever spell had knocked out Bill hit the door. I slid into the driver’s seat of the car and grabbed the keys from him. “Are you okay?”

“I feel like my skull is going to crack open. I feel like my brain has been in a centrifuge. No, I’m not okay.” He leaned his head against the dashboard as I pulled away from the curb. “Where are we going, and who was that?”

“That was Dahlia,” I said, scanning the road as I drove for any sign of Ziggy’s big, crappy van. “And I don’t know.”

I hope you brought backup, sweetheart. Nathan’s thought shot through my head with an urgency that definitely indicated there was a problem.

I did, but he got a little damaged. Where are you?

You won’t believe me…

It was the location that made him doubt Jacob.

Ziggy paced around the alley, the place where he’d first met the only real parent he’d ever had. He’d been a stupid, stupid kid then, thinking he was some big shit who could hunt down vampires. Only then, a real vampire had shown up, and it had gone from being a cool game where the bigger kids included him to a life-or-death situation. And he’d lucked out. It could have been someone like Cyrus, out to find a kid to feed off, or torture to death. But it had been Nate, out to scare the hell out of stupid kids who thought it would be cool to hunt for vampires. And he’d taken a stupid kid out for pie and coffee, and then home to a normal life.

Now, to repay that, Ziggy was going to return Nate to his sire? Jacob had made it seem like common sense. “Bring my son, my true son, home to me,” he’d said, and he’d looked so pathetic and sad and pained. Something inside Ziggy had ached to comfort his sire, to do the right thing. He’d thought of being separated from Jacob for so long, imagined the immense effort it would require to seal himself off from the blood tie the way Nate had for something like seventy-five years. It would be hell on earth, and Jacob had made it seem that tricking Nate into coming home was something necessary for Nate’s happiness. Now that he was here, though, and Nate was on the way, Ziggy wasn’t so sure.

So why are you still selling him out? Why don’t you get the hell out of here and stay away from him forever? Ziggy forced the voice away. His conscience had never worked before, so why the hell did it think he needed it now? He wasn’t hurting Nate. He was saving him.

On the street outside the alley, he heard the squeaking hubcap from when he’d driven the van over the curb in front of the apartment. The engine sounded a little better—Nate probably changed the oil when he was supposed to—but the driver’s side door still screeched when it opened.

Nate was here. He was here, and Ziggy couldn’t stop panicking. What the hell would happen? Would he be glad to see him? Would he still be ashamed? Jesus, was he just coming to pass judgment again?

And then Nate was in the mouth of the alleyway, and Ziggy saw him, and they both froze.

“Ziggy?” It was a whisper that ended like a shout, and Nate ran at him.

Since he’d run away from home, he’d wondered a thousand times how things would have been different if he’d never left. Now, with his dad’s arms around him—and Jesus, was he crying?—he realized nothing would have been different. Nate would still love him. He still did.

“Hey, come on. Don’t cry.” He stepped back a little, his arms on Nate’s shoulders, worried that if he didn’t hold on he’d crash to the ground. “Come on, Dad. Don’t cry.”

“I can’t believe you’re alive.” Nate staggered back, sniffling, as though he was crazy or drunk. Or standing in front of a person who was supposed to be dead. “I held you. While you died.”

“I know you did.” Now Ziggy’s throat felt tight, like he was going to start blubbering, too. “I remember.”

“I never would have left you. If I had known—”

“I know. I know.” But if he’d taken you with him, you would have died. He didn’t turn you. He wouldn’t. He was going to let you die. Ziggy hated his sire’s voice in his head. And he hated that he was right. Nate could have saved him, but he didn’t.

It helped him overcome some of his guilt at tricking him like this. “Listen, I wanted you to come here for a reason.”

“Of course. But we’ll talk about it on the road. It’s not safe for you here.” Nate grabbed his wrist, but Ziggy stood firm.

“No.” He took a deep breath. Somewhere, he’d heard that the moment a guy really becomes a man is when he first hits his father. No way in hell was he going to hit Nate. But he wasn’t going to let him walk off. Not now. “No, you’re not going anywhere.”

“Ziggy, you can be honest with me. For Christ’s sake, it’s me. What’s going on?”

Stay strong. Ziggy cleared his throat. “You can’t leave. You’re supposed to come back with me.”

“Come back with you?” Nate’s brow crumpled with confusion, but the trust never left his eyes. “Where?”

“You know where. To our sire. You’re supposed to come back with me.” If he kept his fists clenched, the tension could support his whole body, and he wouldn’t crumble.

Even when he realized what Ziggy was talking about, Nate still didn’t look angry or betrayed. It was a low blow. “You’re supposed to take me back so he can kill me? Why would you agree to that?”

“He’s not going to kill you!” Ziggy rushed to clarify. “He just wants you back home.”

“Ziggy, he has to consume the souls of every vampire he’s sired before he can become a god.” Nate did sound angry now. “I don’t know what line he’s been feeding you—”

“No, listen! It was a mistranslation. He doesn’t need you. He needs someone else. He’s got it taken care of, and he’s going to let us live.” He swallowed. Why did it sound so implausible now? “He wants you back because he misses you.”

“And you believe that? I raised you better than that.” Nate turned, as if he was going to leave.

Ziggy looked up, signaled to the tops of the buildings on either side. They waited up there, hungry and mindless. “Oh, yeah. You did a good job raising me. Why, exactly, am I a vampire now?”

When Nate turned back, they made their move.

Jacob’s human soldiers were disgusting, filthy, stinking and strong. A steady diet of vamp blood did that to a human. Made them dangerous, addicted and loyal. Twenty of them dropped from the rooftops, landing on their feet, ready to fight rather than howling in pain with broken legs. They formed a circle around the two vampires, blocking off Nate’s escape.

Please don’t let them hurt him, he pleaded to no one in particular. I’d have to kill them and he would know I can’t really force him to go back.

“Ziggy,” Nate began, and there was panic in his voice.

Good. It gave him strength. “I’m not a kid anymore, Nate. And you’re coming with me.”

Turn left off Cherry Street. Do you see it?

I scanned the street frantically for the sight of the van. It was parked in the shadows, across from a building I knew too well. I see it.

“I see it,” Bill said, pointing ahead. “Why are you slowing down? It’s right there!”

“I know it’s right there,” I snapped. I pressed the gas pedal, suddenly aware that I had slowed.

Club Cite was a squat brick building with a peeling coat of black paint. All the goth kids and wannabe vampires hung out there. I knew, because it was the place I’d first met Dahlia. And the place Nathan had first met Ziggy.

“How could he have not known this was going to be a trap?” I whispered, shaking my head in disbelief.

Carrie! I need help!

I pulled the car up to the curb and hurtled out before it was fully in Park. I heard Bill yell out behind me, but I cut him off, barking, “Stay in the car until I call for you!”

I rounded the building, to the alley where Nathan and Ziggy stood, surrounded by…junkies?

The people closing in on them were not vampires. I could tell by the smell of their blood. As disgusting as it sounds, humans smell like food, and they were definitely food. But when one grabbed Nathan and he spun, landing a punch squarely to the thing’s jaw, nothing happened. Well, a close approximation to nothing. Its head snapped back the way anyone’s would when taking a punch. But these…people, for lack of a better term, looked half-starved. Their dirty skin showed through ragged clothes, their eyes were sunken, skin tight across the sharp bones of their skulls. They looked like famine victims. Nathan is strong, even by vampire standards. The one he hit should have ended in a shower of exploded skull and bits of brain.