“Allison.” Kanin turned, dark eyes searching as I stood there, frowning. “What are you doing?”

I know this place. The feeling was stronger than ever, beckoning me down a certain street, and my curiosity was too insistent to ignore. I had to know. Without answering, I headed off the main road and began walking deeper into town. The other two vampires hesitated a moment, then followed.

“Uh, sister? In case you didn’t know, Chicago is that way.”

Still ignoring them, I continued down the sidewalk, past crumbling buildings and the hulks of dead cars. Everything looked different now, because of the snow, but I felt like I’d been here before.

Then I walked around the collapsed wall of an old gas station…and froze.

I had definitely been here before.

Across the street, a building sat on an empty corner, desolate and still in the falling snow. It had been burned, and charred, blackened beams stood out harshly against the snowy backdrop. The roof was gone, but I remembered the wooden cross that once stood atop it, and the flames that had engulfed it on that last night. The night Jackal’s men had attacked Jebbadiah Crosse and his followers, kidnapping everyone but Zeke to bring them to Old Chicago.

Silently, I crossed the road, stepped over the curb, and walked onto the tiny strip of land beside the church. Crosses and headstones poked out of the snow as I gazed around, my eyes falling on the very place I’d seen Zeke and Jeb Crosse together for the last time.

I heard Jackal and Kanin cross the road as well, but both vampires halted at the edge of the sidewalk, disdaining to step onto the cemetery grounds. “A church,” Jackal said in obvious distaste. “Of course it would be a church. Why am I even surprised? You real y don’t get this whole demon thing, do you, sister?”

I gave him a strange look. In New Covington, all churches had been razed and burned by the vampire lords long before I was born. There were stories and speculation as to why, of course, but some of the more colorful rumors said that vampires couldn’t cross the threshold of a church, couldn’t set foot on holy ground, and burned up if they tried.

Obviously, they were wrong. I was standing right here, in the shadow of a church, and I was fine. But Kanin and Jackal still looked reluctant to approach, and I grinned at my brother over the strip of earth separating us.

“What’s the matter, Jackal? Afraid you’re going to burst into flames if you set foot on the grounds?”

His sneer had an edge to it. “Isn’t that cute? A brand-new demon spawn, all puffed up and smug, thinking she’s invincible. Let me make one thing clear, sister,” he went on, still keeping well back from the edge of the lot. “I’m not afraid of the Big Guy, never have been, never will be. But, unlike some newbie vamps that won’t be named, I have never been confused as to what I am. Even if God is dead, even if He’s not here anymore—hell, even if He’s nothing but a boogeyman made up by pathetic humans desperate for some sort of hope—I, at least, am still a demon. I’ve never pretended anything different. And God, if He is real, still hates us.”

Jackal crossed his arms, smirking at me. “So, go ahead, my dear little sister. Stomp on His territory a while longer.

Maybe He’s dead after all. But if a lightning bolt strikes you dead in the next thirty seconds, I’ll save us some time and say ‘see you in hell’ right now.”

My stomach twisted. I remembered something Jebbadiah Crosse had asked me, long ago, when I hadn’t been a vampire for long and had first stumbled upon his group.

“Do you believe in God, Al ison?”

“No,” I said immediately. “Is this the part where you tell me I’m going to hell now?”

“This is hell,” Jebbadiah said. “This is our punishment, our Tribulation. God has abandoned this world. The faithful have al-69 ready gone on to their reward, and He has left the rest of us here, at the mercy of the demons and the devils. The sins of our fathers have passed on to their children, and their children’s children, and it will continue to be so until this world is completely destroyed. So it doesn’t matter if you believe in God or not, because He is not here.”

I’d been skeptical before. I didn’t know what I believed now.

“Allison.” Kanin’s soft, cool voice came to me over the silent graveyard. I looked up, expecting him to call me back, to tell me we were wasting time, that we had to keep moving. His eyes were dark and hooded, his expression blank, as he gazed at me from the edge of the lot. “Do you know this place?”

I nodded. “I’ve been here before,” I told him, stepping around a headstone, brushing the cold rock with my fingers. The same tombstone Zeke had braced himself against when Jeb had whipped him for a crime I couldn’t remember now. “We—Zeke’s group—passed through this town on their way to Eden,” I continued, looking at the burned, blackened church. “They stopped here to rest, but they were attacked the next night.” I turned my head and shot a glare at Jackal, angry again. “By Jackal’s thugs.”

“Huh.” Jackal gazed around with interest now, unconcerned with the icy glare I was giving him. “So this is the spot where they nabbed everyone, is it? Small world.”

“They killed a woman, you know,” I spat at him. “Shot her in cold blood, and she couldn’t even defend herself. Oh, forget it.” Shaking my head, I curled my lip into a sneer. “Why am I telling you any of this—you certainly don’t care.”

“At last,” Jackal returned, smiling. “It starts to sink in. I was afraid I’d have to listen to another sermon.”

I wanted to snap at him, but it was useless. Instead, I turned and brushed snow off the cold tombstone as memories rose up to swirl around me. I recalled what had happened in this cemetery—seeing Zeke and Jeb from the cover of darkness.

Watching as Jeb used a car antenna to whip his adopted son for an earlier sin. Watching Zeke with his head bowed, saying nothing. And what had happened after—the sudden attack, finding Zeke and traveling with him to Old Chicago to rescue the others—it all came back, reminding me yet again of what I had lost. That frozen piece of time in utter darkness, when Zeke had finally leaned in and kissed me, was forever etched into my memory and would never fade. I could see him now, standing beside me, as clearly as that memory would allow, his bright blue eyes shining with hope and determination. And I knew why I’d wanted to come here, to this spot, one more time.

Reaching back, I unhooked the chain from around my neck, drawing it and the tiny silver cross over my head. Refastening the clasp, I set it and the cross gently down on the gravestone, my fingers lingering on the metal winking against the rock.

Goodbye, Zeke.

Then I turned and crossed the grounds to where the two vampires waited on the sidewalk. Jackal shook his head as I joined them, but Kanin’s dark eyes remained on me, sympathetic and appraising.

“Are you finished?” he asked gently, and I nodded.

“Yeah,” I whispered, with one last glance at the church and the phantom memories that still lingered. The glint of silver, tiny and bright, caught my eye in the darkness, and I turned away. “Let’s go. I’m done here.”

We headed back toward the main road. No one, not even Jackal, said anything, leaving me to my thoughts and the persistent, swirling memories that refused to leave me alone. Several times, I almost turned around and went back; that cross was my last connection to Zeke, the only part of him I still had. But in the end, I left it on the grave in the middle of a lonely cemetery. I couldn’t dwell in the past. Zeke was gone.