The Immortal Rules (Blood of Eden, #1)

Once again, his gaze flicked to me, becoming sharp and cold. “This world is full of evil,” he said, peering at me as if he was trying to see inside my head. “God has abandoned it, but that does not mean we should submit to the devils who rule it now. I know not what waits beyond this hell. Perhaps this is a test. Perhaps someday, we will cast the devils out for good. But first, we have to reach Eden. Nothing matters but that.”


He might not be a true religious fanatic, but he was still scary, with that determined, obsessive gleam in his eyes. “Well, you can relax,” I told him. “If you want to look for Eden, by all means, go right ahead. I’m not about to stop you.”

“No, you will not.” Jebbadiah stepped back as if that was the end of it. “Go to Ezekiel,” he said, dismissing me with a wave of his hand. “Tell him to find you a tent and a backpack—we have a few left over from those who have passed on. And be ready to move out as soon as the sun sets. We have a lot of ground to cover.”

As soon as he was gone, I seriously considered leaving. Walking away from this insane cult with its fanatic leader who already had it in for me. How was I going to feed with ol’ Crazy-eyes watching my every move? Something told me Jeb wasn’t the understanding type. If he ever discovered what I was, I could see torches and angry mobs and stakings in my future.

For a second, I wondered if I shouldn’t just vanish into the night. It was stupid and risky to be around so many humans, anyway. Maybe I should turn into a predator lurking on the fringes of their small society, hunting them through the darkness. But then Zeke came around a corner, a green knapsack over one shoulder, and I felt my convictions disappear.

“Heads up,” Zeke said, tossing the pack at me. “There’s a tent and a few supplies,” he explained as I caught it, surprised that it was so light. “It’s not big, but at least it’ll keep the rain off you when we’re camping out in the open. You know how to put up a tent, right?”

“Not really.”

“I can show you,” Zeke said, smiling again. “Tomorrow, I promise. But right now, I have first watch until dawn. Come sit with me a few minutes, and then I’ll let you sleep—you probably need it after today.”

As I smiled back and followed him to where he had set up watch, I couldn’t help thinking that this boy—this helpful, friendly, genuinely nice human being—was probably going to get me killed.





Chapter 12


The next evening, I woke up groggy and a bit disoriented. I wasn’t in the cool, comforting earth; I’d taken shelter in a top room of the old apartment complex the previous night, well away from the group below. I’d had to climb a few flights of broken stairs, and I’d spent the daylight hours in a windowless hole of a room, lying on hard concrete, but it was necessary. I didn’t want anyone tripping over my body in the daytime and realizing I slept like the dead.

Dropping back to the ground floor, I found most of the group just beginning to stir, as well. In the middle of the room, Ruth and an older woman with graying hair were starting to lay out food, opening cans of fruit and pouring them into metal bowls and cups. They seemed efficient as they opened a can, poured half the contents into a bowl, and handed it to a waiting child. Caleb, after receiving his share, trotted away with cup in hand, picking out yellow slices with his fingers. He stopped short when he saw me.

“Hi, Allie.” Beaming, he held up his cup. “Look at what Zeke and Darren found yesterday! It’s sweet. Are you going to get some?”

“Um.” I glanced at the women and found Ruth glaring at me again. What the hell was the girl’s problem? “Not now. I’m not really that hungry.”

His eyes widened, as if he couldn’t believe what I had just said. “Really? But, we hardly ever get food like this! You should try it, at least a little bit.”

I smiled wistfully, remembering when I had taken such pleasure in a can of fruit. I wished I could’ve tried some, but Kanin had warned me that normal food would make me sick, and my body would expel it almost immediately. Meaning I would hurl it back up, something I did not want to do in front of a group of strangers.

“Here.” Caleb held up a dripping yellow slice, and abruptly, the sweet, cloying smell made me slightly nauseated. “Have one of mine.”

“Maybe later.” I shifted uneasily and took a step back, feeling Ruth’s never-ending glare at the base of my skull. “Have you seen Zeke?”

“He’s always with Jeb when we first wake up.” Caleb stuffed the whole slice into his mouth, then gave me a yellow-orange smile. “We usually don’t see him until after breakfast.”

“Here, dearie.” An older woman stepped in front of me, holding out a bowl. It was half full of slimy, colorful fruit chunks, and my stomach recoiled at the sight of it. “We never got to thank you for finding Caleb last night. I know you must be hungry—go ahead and eat. We won’t tell the others you skipped your place in line.”

I stifled a sigh and took the bowl. “Thank you,” I told her, and she smiled.

“You’re one of us now,” she said and hobbled back to the others, favoring her left leg. I tried to remember her name and failed.

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