The Queen Of Zombie Hearts
The Queen Of Zombie Hearts
Gena Showalter
BOOK 3 OF THE WHITE RABBIT CHRONICLESAlice Bell thinks the worst is behind her. She’s fought zombies and won. Now she’s ready for a peaceful life with boyfriend Cole, the leader of the zombie slayers… until the dangerous agency controlling the undead launches an attack with devastating consequences.Humans can be more dangerous than monsters… and the worst has only just begun.They’ve started a war. Alice is determined to end it.
I have a plan.
We’ll either destroy them for good, or they’ll destroy us.
Either way, only one of us is walking away.
In the stunning conclusion to the wildly popular White Rabbit Chronicles, Alice “Ali” Bell thinks the worst is behind her. She’s ready to take the next step with boyfriend Cole Holland, the leader of the zombie slayers…until Anima Industries, the agency controlling the zombies, launches a sneak attack, killing four of her friends. It’s then she realizes that humans can be more dangerous than monsters…and the worst has only begun.
As the surviving slayers prepare for war, Ali discovers she, too, can control the zombies…and she isn’t the girl she thought she was. She’s connected to the woman responsible for killing—and turning—Cole’s mother. How can their relationship endure? As secrets come to light, and more slayers are taken or killed, Ali will fight harder than ever to bring down Anima—even sacrificing her own life for those she loves.
Praise for Gena Showalter
‘Put me down as a fan of Gena Showalter. I love her writing style and the attitude she gave Alice completely entertained me. There was never a dull moment and I loved every moment of Alice in Zombieland. I am so pleased that it lived up to my expectations.’
—Book Chick City
‘Readers will love the brave girl trying to reclaim her life…’
—RT Book Reviews
‘…a zippy story with crossover appeal that highlights the power of guilt, faith and self-confidence’
—Publishers Weekly
‘Showalter has created a promising playground for future story instalments.’
—Kirkus Reviews
‘…the novel was original, highly addictive and entertaining. Showalter is beyond good at what she does and I highly recommend reading other books she has penned.’
—Parajunkee's View
GENA SHOWALTER
is a New York Times and USA TODAY bestselling author whose teen novels have been praised as ‘unputdownable.’ Growing up, she always had her nose buried in a book. When it came time to buckle down and get a job, she knew writing was it for her. Gena lives in Oklahoma with her family and two slobbery English bulldogs. Become a fan on Facebook and visit her new White Rabbit Chronicles website at www.wrchronicles.com (http://www.wrchronicles.com).
www.miraink.co.uk (http://www.miraink.co.uk)
To Mom and Dad. Just because.
Contents
Cover (#u29ebb40c-8e59-59dc-9447-574f1e6cfda7)
Back Cover Text (#ua90b9d39-b955-55a7-9f78-1480de5fe2af)
Praise for Gena Showalter (#ub06fc548-fc71-518a-a1b1-49eb60a464bb)
About the Author (#ub33dcf85-4c5f-5c19-b210-f3bc9201706d)
Title Page (#u28aa1fce-82d1-5e8d-8775-a6f70e81f223)
Dedication (#u640024a5-c23a-51cd-9f07-4e06acc22eca)
Epigraph (#u34b203f0-51fc-5afb-94b3-b1e42bc38143)
A NOTE FROM ALI (#ulink_9b5c4725-303c-50f4-beb4-22d0cf27eeb1)
Chapter 1 (#ulink_b0d08816-3730-5a93-a284-ed9f94284bae)
Chapter 2 (#ulink_14e27541-4fd6-53e8-8c19-8bfbd9a4b6b3)
Chapter 3 (#ulink_7653f608-ee22-5e3f-b4e8-58e7eed7683a)
Chapter 4 (#ulink_e78390f2-1cea-5709-b826-be4fbe7c9723)
Chapter 5 (#ulink_ea3b0218-3ff3-5aeb-a4fe-57505bc94b4b)
Chapter 6 (#ulink_ea14cb1c-7c4d-5baa-a899-0043bba0710c)
Chapter 7 (#ulink_60b665a1-6aff-5925-bc63-475ca946947d)
Chapter 8 (#ulink_cbd27978-0458-5dc7-96b8-d902ebd17dfc)
Chapter 9 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 10 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 11 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 12 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 13 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 14 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 15 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 16 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 17 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 18 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 19 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 20 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 21 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 22 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 23 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 24 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 25 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 26 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 27 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 28 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 29 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 30 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 31 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 32 (#litres_trial_promo)
A NOTE FROM COLE (#litres_trial_promo)
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS (#litres_trial_promo)
BONUS SCENE A NOTE FROM GENA (#litres_trial_promo)
Cole (#litres_trial_promo)
Extract (#litres_trial_promo)
Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)
ROSES ARE RED
VIOLETS ARE BLUE
BE VERY AFRAID
WE’RE COMING FOR YOU.
A NOTE FROM ALI (#ulink_b5c496dc-08c6-5682-8611-299df64aad1e)
Are you ready for this?
The romance and sizzle...the betrayal...loss...pain...
The end?
I thought I was. I had begun comparing myself to a coin, with life on one side and death on the other. I’d felt as though I’d been tossed in the air, only to tumble down fast and hard. Which side I landed on would be totally up to fate. But I’ve learned not everything that happens is meant to be.
Think about it. The fact that I ate a bagel with cream cheese for breakfast—not fate but hunger.
The fact that I lost my mother, father and beloved little sister in a car crash—not fate but panic.
The fact that four of my friends were gunned down in one night and two others were killed soon after—NOT FATE! Evil.
Fate and meant to be come down to one thing. The tool we’ve been given to shape our destinies. Choice. Mine...yours...theirs. Good, bad. Ugly.
Here’s mine: Months ago, I decided to join a crew of slayers and spend my nights fighting zombies.
Yes. Zombies.
These vile creatures live among us, invisible to the ungifted eye. They emerge at nightfall, hungry for human spirits, the essence of life. They feast, and they poison, and if ever you’re bitten, your spirit will rise, starved and ready to devour.
I considered zombies the worst enemy ever to walk the earth.
I was wrong.
Humans can be more dangerous than monsters.
There’s a company out there. Anima Industries. They control zombies, and they’ve decided slayers are a problem with only one solution: extermination.
Now, slayers have a choice. Go underground...or go to war. In other words, hide our coins or toss them ourselves.
We’ve lost so much already, and there are so few of us left. The smart thing to do is pack up and hide. Live to fight another day.
Screw smart.
We’re tossing. One way or another, we will destroy Anima for good—or they will destroy us. But this time, only one group is walking away.
Our choice is made.
Ready or not, here we come.
See you on the other side,
Ali Bell
Chapter 1 (#ulink_68c2b37f-a8d9-5da5-9aa1-b8d0c29b25c2)
UP IS DOWN AND
DOWN IS UP
“Dude. How about that one?” My best friend, Kat Parker, pointed toward the far corner, to a table occupied by three boys about our age.
One guy was hot enough to melt a polar vortex. One wasn’t handsome in the traditional sense, but with his unusual chartreuse eyes, it hardly mattered. The third was amazingly rugged, with a fresh scrape on his cheek and scars on his knuckles.
Well, well. We had finally found a smorgasbord of different flavored man-meat.
“Perfect,” I said with a nod.
“I don’t know.” Reeve Ankh, my other friend, surveyed the boys and chewed on her bottom lip. “I’m getting danger vibes from the one on the right.”
The one on the right—Knuckle Scars. Excellent. Her dandar—danger radar—was working at optimal levels.
In our little trio, she’d always been the voice of reason. Or, as Kat would say, “the voice of shut up and live a little.”
My darling Kat meant it in the nicest way possible, of course. She simply had no filter. She always spoke her mind, always stood up for what she believed—that her way was the best way—and lived by the motto I’m On Board the Awesome Train and You Can Hop On or Get Run Over.
Was it any wonder I loved her so much?
“This is stupid, you guys.”
The grumble came from Mackenzie Love. Once my archenemy, now one of my favorite pet projects.
Most people were surprised by our sudden friendship, but I’d learned life could change in the blink of an eye.
Everything could change in the blink of an eye.
I accepted, and I rolled.
“Suck it up.” Trina Brighton, the last member of our group, kicked Mackenzie under the table. “This was your idea.”
“That’s right. You asked for our help, and we agreed to give it to you on one condition. That you do what we say, when we say.” Grinning her happy-kitten grin, Kat rubbed her hands together. While I had grown to like Mackenzie, she hadn’t. But she had softened...ish. “This is gonna be fun. For me!”
Hated to admit it, but...yeah, it was gonna be fun for me, too.
We were at Choco Loco, a chocolate bar where girls picked up treats and boys picked up girls. Not that I wanted to be picked up.
I’d been going out with the drool-worthy Cole Holland—officially...again—for a little over a month. And, okay, yeah, there was a slight problem with our relationship. In the course of that month, we’d been on...give me a second to count them—zero dates. We’d had a total of...let’s see, let’s see—zero minutes alone. And we’d kissed...oh, I don’t know—zero times.
Here are things that suck worse: _____________________.
Okay, fine. There are a few things that suck worse. Like the time I was an all-you-can-eat dinner buffet for zombies. The time I battled the worst Z-poisoning in the history of ever. And my personal favorite, the time Anima Industries locked me away, electrocuted me, starved me and studied me like a freaking zoo animal.
Considering all I’d been through, my love life should have been a sparkling diamond in a sea of coal. Or a sea of “Cole.” Har har. We had tried to get together, like, plan-everything-down-to-the-last-second tried, but each of our sneak-overs had encountered one teensy-weensy problem.
Her name: Nana.
Seriously, my grandmother had morphed into the Make-Out Police, and okay, okay, I didn’t really have to rack my brain to figure out why. One night Cole had saved me from a very painful death, and we’d decided to celebrate. Alone. He’d stolen into my bedroom, and we’d done what we always did. (I refuse to provide the down-and-dirty deets. But it was. Down and dirty. Anyway.) She’d heard us—the horror!—and had busted in.
We’d still had (most of) our clothes on, but yowza, the position she’d caught us in...
Ever since, Nana has been attached to my side. In fact, the only time she detaches is when I’m hanging with my girls, or when I’m prowling the streets, hunting zombies.
Don’t get me wrong. I love Nana to pieces. And so does Cole. When the three of us get together, we actually have fun. But I want more. I need more. I’m addicted to Cole’s hands...and his mouth...and oh, Ali-want, his nipple ring. Withdrawals stink!
“What are you waiting for, love buns?” Kat banged her hand on the table. “Did I not make it clear that you don’t get a vote in this? That the tribe has spoken? You know what you gotta do, so, do it.”
A waiter stepped up to our table before Mackenzie could respond. He set a mousse shooter in front of each of us.
“Um.” Reeve frowned. “We didn’t order these.”
“Compliments of the hounds in the corner.” A wink, and the waiter was off.
In unison, my friends and I gazed at our chocolate-addiction enablers. Hot and Chartreuse lifted their own mousse shooters in a toast. Knuckle Scars just stared.
Reminded me of Cole.
Kat stood and called, “My friend MacLovin’ will come over and thank you in person just as soon as her heartbeat settles. You totally rocked her—”
Mackenzie tugged on her arm, both returning her to her seat and silencing her. “Do you have to be so humiliating?”
As the toasters high-fived, Kat slapped Mackenzie on the shoulder. “What are you complaining about? We came here to find you a date, and now, thanks to me, it’s practically mission accomplished. I’ve set the stage, so all you have to do is walk over there and pick your favorite boy toy. You’re welcome.”
Mackenzie leaned over and bashed her forehead against the table.
“Why are you acting like such a baby?” Kat gave her another slap. “You’re, like, some kind of super ninja warrior who spends her nights catching butterflies and—”
“Good glory,” I said. “Stop calling it that.”
“Seriously.” Mackenzie stopped bashing and looked up. “You make us sound like—” she shuddered “—girls.”
Though Kat and Reeve were civilians, not slayers, they knew about the dark, secret world in operation around them. And Kat, well, she now liked to refer to slaying zombies as catching butterflies. She was sweet like that.
“I’m fine with calling it catching butterflies,” Trina said.
Kat smirked.
Mackenzie gaped at Trina.
“What?” Trina shrugged. “I’m confident in my masculinity.”
I snorted. Trina might look like she could lift a bus, but her heart was as soft as marshmallows.
“You should talk to the boys and get it over with, Mac.” Reeve ran her finger over the rim of her shooter and licked away the chocolate. “Kat looks ready to drag you over there.”
“True story,” Kat said with a nod. “Just seconds away.”
“If she does,” Reeve continued, “the last five minutes will become your happy place.”
“Fine.” A scowling Mackenzie pushed to her feet. “But I’m not going to try to charm them.”
“As if you could,” Kat said, and Mackenzie’s scowl darkened.
“You’ve got this in the bag.” I truly believed that. Mac wouldn’t have to use charm. Not with a face like hers.
All of my friends had model-perfect faces. And yet, each was so different.
Kat, with her straight dark hair and hazel eyes, was girl-next-door lovely. Reeve, with her brown waves and doe eyes, was traffic-stopping stunning. Mackenzie, with her black curls and emerald eyes, was child-of-an-angel exquisite. And Trina, with her short spikes and black-rimmed eyes, was punk-rocker cool. I was the oddball, with pale hair and eyes so blue they were freaky.
As Mackenzie trudged closer to the boys, a shadow fell over our table.
Kat squealed with delight and threw herself into the arms of the culprit.
No need to glance over to figure out who had just arrived. Frosty, her on-again, off-again boyfriend.
They had a weird relationship, because even when they were off, they were on. Like, all-over-each-other on. I’d never seen two people more bat-crap crazy for each other.
She peppered his face with kisses. “You came!”
“And you look amazing.”
“Obviously.”
Ha! Such a perfect, confident response. Such a Kat response. I’d have to remember it the next time Cole complimented me.
“I couldn’t stay away.” Frosty combed his fingers through Kat’s hair. “I believe your last text said, and I quote, ‘If you aren’t here within the next ten minutes, I will probably forget all about you and fall in love with someone else.’”
My girl had such a poetic way with words.
Lucas, as attractive as ever in a polo with the sleeves rolled up to display his dark arms to perfection, stepped out from behind Frosty. He nodded at Trina, peering at her for several seconds beyond polite. A lance of awareness arced between them. Well, well. I’d suspected they were secretly seeing each other, and this just cinched it. Good. They deserved a steamy dose of happiness.
Kat wrapped her fingers around Frosty’s wrist and pulled him closer. “I’ve always believed open lines of communication are the key to making any relationship work. That, and presents. Do you have one for me?”
“Me, too!” Reeve waved her hands expectantly. “Gimme.”
Frosty ignored her. As usual, he cared only about his girl. “Shouldn’t my exalted presence be present enough? I ditched Cole and Bronx and broke speed records to come snap the spine of anyone who’s made a play for you. And since that’s surely everyone breathing, I just need you to tell me where you’d like me to start.”
My ears perked at the mention of Cole. “Where’d you leave him?”
Of course, Frosty ignored me, too.
“Tatty’s Ink,” Lucas said. “Bronx is getting Reeve’s name inked into his arm. Which, I just remembered, is supposed to be a surprise.”
Reeve cooed happily, thrilled with her boyfriend’s unexpected gift.
I’d decided to get two new tattoos myself, so...why not drive over there now? Cole could hold my hand through the process, and afterward, he’d realize there had never been a more perfect chance for Nana-free time. Two birds, one delectable stone. Afterward, we could...do things. I shivered with anticipation.
Knowing it would have been criminal to leave a single drop of my mousse shooter behind, I downed it and licked the rim, then licked again just to be safe. I knew I wasn’t overhyping the dessert when I muttered, “This is the best thing in the entire world.”
“Agreed,” Reeve said.
Finally, I made the brave decision to step between Frosty and Kat.
Yes, other people had been donkey-punched in the throat for doing such a thing, but I was willing to risk it. I needed my best friend’s full attention.
“I’m leaving, and I’m taking Mackenzie with me.” Love bug was my ride. “You’re not going to have as much fun without me, but I hope you’re willing to make the sacrifice.”
Kat pursed her lips. “What about this most special of occasions? Girls’ day out.”
Honestly? “It crashed and burned the second Frosty and Lucas showed up.”
“Hey,” Frosty said behind me. “I only crash and burn the people who say I crash and burn things.”
“True story.” Kat blinked up at me. “But that aside, let’s cut through the crap and focus on what you’re really saying. I have to choose between him and you.”
If it would save me from having to argue about leaving? “Yes.”
“Oh. Well, then. I choose you,” she said with a sunny smile. “Of course.”
Should have seen that coming. As much as she loved Frosty, she loved me. Maybe more. We were sisters of the heart rather than blood, and (almost) always put each other’s needs above everyone else’s.
“Get lost, Frosty.” She made shooing motions over my shoulder. “You can remind me of my affection for you later.”
“But, kitten,” he said, his tone beseeching. And it was funny, hearing one of the biggest, baddest Z-killers in Birmingham, Alabama, reduced to begging, all because a tiny fluff of nothing had decided not to play with him. “I have a fever, and the only prescription...is more cow-kat.”
Kat narrowed her eyes at him. “Cow-kat?”
“Dude,” Lucas muttered. “Do you want to lose a testicle?”
“Okay,” Frosty said, “I’m man enough to admit that might have come out wrong.”
I gripped Kat by the shoulders. “You don’t have to worry about hurting my feelings. I’m foaming-at-the-mouth eager to see Cole.”
“You planning to make out with him?”
“Yes,” I admitted, even as my cheeks heated.
“That’s so cake. And you’ll give me every detail?”
Wait. “Cake?”
“My new favorite word, meaning so totally beyond amazeballs.”
Well, okay, then. Soon, it would be the world’s favorite. “If you insist, I’ll give you a play-by-play.” I knew she would.
She thought for a moment, sighed. “Fine. Go. We’ll reschedule.”
“Really?”
“What can I say? I’m a giver.”
“Thank you, thank you, a thousand times thank you.” I kissed her cheek and raced to Mackenzie’s side.
“—must be a light switch, because every time I look at you, I’m turned on,” Chartreuse was saying.
No. Just no. Pickup lines were never okay. “We’ve gotta go,” I told her.
Chartreuse frowned. “But she just got here.”
Relief radiated from Mackenzie. “Sorry, boys. It’s been... Yeah.” She said no more as she tugged me toward the door.
“Hey!” Reeve called. “No one said ’bye to me.”
I waved, saying, “’Bye. We love you!” over my shoulder.
She blew me a kiss.
Trina laughed at something Lucas said, unconcerned by our departure.
Mackenzie and I stepped into the wintry afternoon. The sun was shining but the air was chilled. Shoppers wove in and out of nearby boutiques, each lost in their own little worlds.
“Thank you,” Mackenzie said with a shudder. “The only guy I had any interest in never spoke a word to me.”
“Let me guess. Mr. Knuckle Scars.”
“Yeah. How’d you know?”
“We have similar taste.” Proof: we’d both dated Cole. “He would have been my choice, too.” And not just for his rugged appeal.
Every slayer in the war against Z’s had lost loved ones to bites and battle wounds, and the sorrow and grief tended to build barriers around our hearts. More and more, it became clear that the strong had a better chance of survival; Knuckle Scars had definitely been the strongest of the bunch.
Shockingly enough, Frosty—who had lost more than most—was the exception to my theory. He’d fallen for Kat despite her kidney disease. But I wasn’t going to think about her illness and the pain she was—and would be—forced to endure. I’d break down and be forced to compartmentalize, shoving the heartbreak into a deep, dark corner of my mind, to be dealt with later.
My compartments were almost full.
I’d told myself I’d stop doing it, stop locking away the hard emotional crap and finally deal with my feelings, but I’d fallen back into the habit...and honestly, I wasn’t in any hurry to change.
“Where are we going?” Mackenzie settled behind the wheel of her truck. “It’s too early for patrol.”
Oh, yeah. We had to patrol for zombies this evening. We’d be with Gavin the man-whore—another one of my pet projects, despite his warped sense of humor—and the mostly silent Bronx. Time was limited.
“We’re going to Tatty’s,” I said and explained why.
“I’d advise you to play a little hard to get, but I swear, it doesn’t matter what you do. Cole thinks it’s the most adorable thing ever. It makes me want to stab you both in the eye.”
A few weeks ago, she would have spat those words at me like weapons. Because the moment Cole had displayed an interest in me—which had been at moment one, thank you very much—she’d hated me.
My sparkling personality had eventually won her over.
Fine. Personality had nothing to do with it. We were soldiers in a war, and we were fighting for the same side. A bond had formed.
“If you stab us both in the eye, we will wear matching patches and pretend to be pirates,” I said. “You’ll wish you’d stabbed yourself instead.”
She shuddered. “You still have an evil side, I see.”
“Yes, and your tears are the food she craves.”
Mackenzie almost cracked a smile.
I scanned the parking lot when we reached our destination, fighting disappointment when I couldn’t locate Cole’s Jeep.
Maybe he’d walked? You know, for exercise. As if he didn’t get enough at his gym, running the treadmill, lifting weights and boxing in the ring. But he wasn’t inside, and my disappointment intensified.
I could call or text him, I supposed, but this wasn’t just girls’ day out. It was boys’ day out, too. He could still be with Gavin, Bronx and new-to-the-team Justin. Well, new again. Long story.
“Do you have a few hours to spare?” I asked Mackenzie.
“Is my other choice heading back to Choco Loco?”
“Yes.”
“Then I do.”
I headed to the back of the shop with Artist Guy, the man who’d done my other tattoos. There were two, one on each wrist; the reason he already had my permission slip on file. The first one he’d given me was the white rabbit to represent my sister, Emma. She might be dead, but she still came to visit me. The second, a pair of swords in the shape of a cross to represent my parents.
“Tell me what you want,” he said as I settled into the seat.
I’d thought about this for quite some time. Everything we felt always found a way to manifest outwardly. Smiles, frowns. Laugh lines. Scowl lines. This was my way of showing my love for the family and friends I’d lost.
“To start, I want a phoenix on the back of my neck.” This would represent Cole. I hadn’t lost him—and wouldn’t!—but he still deserved a place of honor. With his help, I’d risen from the ashes of my past and forged a new future. “Then I want a pair of boxing gloves above the daggers.” They would represent Pops, my grandfather, who’d been killed by zombie toxin. As a teenager, he’d trained in the ring, and throughout the rest of his life, he’d taken hard knocks with grace and bravery.
Artist Guy got to work, and though I’d done this before and had known what to expect, it still hurt. Bad. By the time he finished, my neck and arm throbbed incessantly.
“Well? What do you think?” he asked.
I studied the boxing gloves and smiled. They looked like they were made of tattered brown leather, with a bowed string holding them together. “Perfection.”
“As if I could do anything less.”
Men and their egos.
I approached the full-length mirror hanging on the wall. Hand trembling, I lifted my hair and turned to the side while glancing over my shoulder. My breath hitched. The bird’s head was light green and came up to my hairline. The wings were a rainbow of colors, each crackling with golden flames, wrapping around both sides of my neck, stretching toward my ears. The belly was a mix of red and gold and centered on the ridges of my spine, while the tail was shaped and shaded like peacock feathers, stopping between my shoulder blades.
“It’s...it’s...” I gasped. “I don’t even have words.”
“I know,” he replied. “I’m amazing. It’s the best work you’ve ever seen. Blah, blah.”
Cole was going to flip out.
“You remember how to prevent infection?” he asked.
“Yes.” I paid him and joined Mackenzie in the lobby. Her reaction to the ink was similar to mine. Total shock and awe.
“As much as I’d love to stay and stare, we’d better go.” She gestured to the outside world. “Darkness is rolling in.”
I glanced out the window, and sure enough, the sunlight was muted. Well, crap. Night came earlier and earlier. We hardly had time for rest and relaxation anymore.
When had we ever?
But we were trying. All slayers—including our mascots, Reeve and Kat—had recently enrolled in a home-study program, leaving the classroom behind. With our schedules, we’d been missing class or, when we had shown up, falling asleep. Our grades had been slipping. Now we had a little control.
Out of habit, I searched the sky for a rabbit-shaped cloud. Anytime my sister noticed zombies stirring in their nests, preparing to brave the wild and hunt a meal, she created one just for me. Right now, there wasn’t one. Good.
Tonight I would go through one neighborhood after another, searching for Z’s, protecting homes. If all went well—and that’s how it was looking—I’d finish around 3:00 a.m. Boys’ day out would be officially over.
“Let’s go,” I said.
We piled into Mackenzie’s truck and headed to the gym, where we would begin. Along the way, I texted Cole.
U’ll B home 2nite, yeah?
His response came lightning-fast. Yeah. U got plans 4 me?
Me: If there aren’t any Z’s 2 fight, guess I’ll have 2 settle 4 getting my hands on U.
Cole: Settle away. I’ll B w8ing.
Me: BTW, I have surprise 4 U.
Cole: Naked surprise?
Me: Better.
Cole: Nothing better.
Me: Prepare to have UR mind blown!
Me: I MEAN CHANGED. CHANGED.
Cole: Hahaha. I prefer blown. & right back at ya, babe.
I stored my phone away.
“You’re practically glowing with happiness.” Mackenzie pretended to gag. “Tell me you’re still capable of killing zombies and that you’re not considering spraying them with rainbow dust.”
As if I’d waste rainbow dust on zombies. “Don’t you worry about me, love bug. You want to know why there’s no sign of life on Mars? Because I’ve been there.”
She tried to hide her grin. “If you tell me Death once had a near–Ali Bell experience, I think I’ll risk a little pirate role-playing and just go ahead and stab your eye.”
“Why would you want to eye-gouge the girl who’s counted to infinity—twice? The girl who can win a game of Connect Four in only three moves? The girl who can start a fire by rubbing two ice cubes together?”
“Definitely going to eye-gouge you,” she muttered.
I laughed. “All’s I’m saying is that I’m ready for tonight...no matter what happens.”
Chapter 2 (#ulink_b7bce55a-cf9e-5a6f-a9cb-5745e93d2ad0)
BY THE SKIN AND THE TEETH
It was 3:04 a.m., and, as expected, there was no sign of zombies. I was now off duty, but not expected home until 7:00 a.m.
Life couldn’t get any more perfect.
Oh, wait. It could. Mackenzie and Bronx lived with Cole and his dad, Mr. Tyler Holland, and they’d decided to spend the rest of the night at the gym. I hadn’t said a word about my plans with Cole, but my ear-to-ear smile might have given me away.
Gavin offered to take me home. Ever the gentleman, he opened the passenger side of his car for me.
“I’ve got people to do and things to see.” He motioned me inside. “Hop to, cupcake.”
“Thank you.”
“Don’t get used to it.”
He meant that with every fiber of his being. Shouldn’t laugh. I adored the guy, but I wasn’t blind to all of his faults.
One of my faults: I found every one of his charming.
He settled behind the wheel and gunned the engine, the ice on the window melting. He eased onto the road and said, “So, when do you get your license?”
“Next week.” There’d been a time I’d wanted to vomit blood at even the thought of controlling the metal death trap known as car, but battling an evil zombie-twin version of myself—don’t ask—kind of put things in perspective. “Why? Are you tired of chauffeuring me around?”
“Nope. Just want to make sure I move to another state in time. You’re a tragic accident waiting to happen.” He cursed. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to go there.”
“Don’t worry about it. We both know I make the geriatric crowd look like NASCAR champions.” I had a love/hate relationship with speed. I loved slow and hated fast.
“Exactly my point,” Gavin said. “There’s such a thing as road rage, and I has it.”
“You has a whole lot of other things, too,” I muttered.
“True, and they’re all awesome.”
I rolled my eyes. “By the way, you’re not taking me home. You’re taking me to Cole’s.” At least, I hoped. I texted him, praying he hadn’t fallen asleep.
No Z’s, I typed. U ready 4 me?
His reply came within seconds. Ready? Ali-gator, U have no idea. Hope UR in the mood 2 play Hungry Zombie & Helpless Human, because I want a nibble. How soon can U get here?
Me, my heart fluttering with excitement: 10 minutes.
Cole: Make it 5.
Me, my heart fluttering a thousand times faster: Done!
Cole: Bro and Mac w/U?
Me: Nope. They love us enough 2 give us nite 2 ourselves.
Cole: Perfect. I’ll turn off alarm & unlock my window.
Gavin winked at me. “So tonight’s the night, huh? Finally gonna get that cherry popped.”
No way. There was just no way he’d gone there. “You are such a pig.”
“Pigs are cute.”
“And filthy.”
“The perfect combination.”
It was impossible to insult someone who never took offense. “Look, I’m not going to discuss my sex life—or lack of one—with you, of all people.”
Undeterred, he said, “Unless you break your neck on the way in, you’re diving into that boy’s bed the second you get there, and we both know it.”
Good glory. He and Nana were a tag team, and I wasn’t sure which one had the better right cross.
“So...you want any tips for taking things from ordinary to extraordinary?” he asked. “I’m something of a sex-pert.”
“Actually, you’re something of a slut-pert.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. That’s not even a word.”
I couldn’t judo-chop his airway. He would lose control of the car and crash. “Why don’t I just cut off my ears and give them to you?” I muttered to myself. “It would hurt less than this conversation.”
“Fine. Be that way. Fumble around in the dark. See if I care.”
“You totally shouldn’t care!”
“Well, I do. You’re my cupcake. I happen to think you deserve to be frosted just—”
“Don’t you dare finish that sentence or I swear I’ll start a douche-bag jar and make you put a fiver in it.”
He grinned at me. “It’d be a douche-purse jar, and you know it.”
Never going to live that down. Nana and her “teen-speak” would haunt me for the rest of my life. “Why don’t you tell me all about your first time, hmm? Was it special? Did you cover your bed in rose petals?”
“It was the most specialest,” he answered, deadpan. “And yes.”
I rolled my eyes again. I rarely left his presence without giving him five good ones. “Whatever. This subject is closed, Barbie, so you can shut it now or lose your tongue.”
He didn’t shut it. Of course. “Barbie? That’s the nickname you pick for me?”
“Hate it?” I asked with a smirk. A girl could only hear “cupcake” so many times before she had to strike back.
“Absolutely love it. I’ve always suspected you want to take me out and play with me.”
See! Impossible!
“Anyway,” he continued, “how are you going to seduce Cole Has All the Luck Holland?”
I snorted. “Are you serious? Like a girl really needs to do anything more than breathe.”
He shook his head and tsked, as if to say I pity you. “Listen up, cupcake. I’m about to drop major pearls of wisdom.”
“Even though I know how rare wisdom-dropping is for you, please, don’t.”
“If I want to get a chick into bed, I say one of two things. ‘I screwed up.’ Or ‘let’s talk about it.’ Boom. Clothes are flying, limbs are tangled and freaky things are happening. But if you say those things to Cole, he’s such a pansy he’ll be over and done in his jeans before the good stuff even starts.”
“Give me a minute to get over my shock that you’re still single.”
“I know, right. You’ll probably need more than a minute, though. It’s a real mind puzzler.”
“Look, some couples care about more than sex.” I thought about the way Cole sometimes looked at me, as if the sun rose and set just for me. “They care about connecting.”
“You’re proving my point for me. They care about connecting...physically.”
“Mentally. Emotionally.”
“Honey buns, only one half of the couple cares about the mental and emotional, and here’s a hint—it’s not the guy. But I digress. You’re just going to jump him, aren’t you? No muss, no fuss—you’ll just tear off his clothes and show him who’s boss.” He wiggled his brows. “Why, Ali Bell, I didn’t know you had it in you.”
Question: If I gutted him like a zombie, would anyone actually convict me of a crime?
Answer: No! Everyone would thank me.
“Just...concentrate on the road,” I said.
He obeyed, which made me suspicious of his next move. I studied his profile. He could have been plucked straight out of a magazine. An underwear ad. Hence the nickname I’d given him. He was pretty-boy beautiful, with blond hair and sparkling eyes of green and gold.
“You’re staring,” he said. “Thinking about doing me now? Well, I hate to break it to you, cupcake, but that ship has sailed.”
Third eye-roll. “Trying to figure you out.”
“Although,” he continued, as if I hadn’t spoken, “I could probably be convinced to show you how a real man pleases a woman after Cole screws everything up. You know, as an act of mercy.”
“I’d rather a zombie show me. You will never be a candidate.” Keeping him humble was a service I offered free of charge—and I still wasn’t sure I was getting my money’s worth.
He shrugged. “Your loss.”
“You’re only being so generous—” I nearly choked on the word “—because you don’t like being told no.”
“Or because chicks are like candy, and it’s my mission to taste-test all the different flavors.”
Fourth eye-roll. “Roughly four weeks ago, you claimed you wanted to find true love and become part of a meaningful relationship.”
“Roughly four weeks ago, I was an idiot,” he replied with a shudder.
I shook my head in exasperation. “You’re an STD waiting to happen. You know that, don’t you?”
“Super talented director?” He hiked his shoulders. “Not sure I want to get into the movie business, but okay.”
“Wrong. So totally douchey. And you’re already in deep.”
He flipped me off, and when I laughed, he pressed his finger against my nose. “I take it Cole’s dad has no idea you’ll be staying over and corrupting his son.”
“That’s right.” Just to be contrary, I added, “I’m going to corrupt him so hard.”
Gavin gave a dramatic sigh. “If I didn’t like Cole so much, I’d hate him. That prick always gets the rare, limited-time flavors.” He eased the car to a stop beside the curb and killed the lights.
My mind instantly switched tracks, my heart drumming with excitement. In less than a minute, I would be in Cole’s arms.
“Thanks for the ride, Gavin.”
“Anytime, cupcake. Even if it wasn’t the ride I wanted to give you.”
“Good glory.” I removed one of my gloves and threw it at him.
He caught and kissed it.
An-n-nd there went the fifth eye-roll.
There went another answering grin.
I abandoned the warmth of the car for the frigid chill of the night, my boots crunching in ice as I raced toward the spacious one-story with red brick and white wood trim. In my eagerness, I missed the rock in my path and tripped.
A+, self.
Cole’s window was in back, the first on the left. It was unlocked, just as he’d promised. I scrambled inside as quietly as possible and closed the glass behind me.
Before I could turn around or adjust to the deeper darkness of the room, I was grabbed.
A hard hand clamped over my mouth, silencing my gasp. Another hand wrapped around me, pinning my arms to my sides to prevent my elbows from doing any damage.
“I said five minutes, Miss Bell.” Cole’s low, husky voice caressed me, draining the fight right out of me. “You took eight. Do you know what that means?”
I swallowed a giggle. “I need to buy a watch?”
“You’re finally getting that spanking I’ve been promising you.” His hands fell away, and I spun to face him, keeping my eyes to the floor out of habit.
Usually, when our eyes met for the first time during any given day, we had a vision of our future. We’d caught a glimpse of each other earlier this morning, saving us the hassle now.
I was glad.
What we’d seen... I hadn’t let myself think about it, too afraid I’d break down. Cole, leaning against a tree, crimson streaking his face and chest, soaking his hands, his expression a mix of unequaled pain and immeasurable grief as I walked away from him.
Walked. Away.
There was no reason good enough for that.
How badly was he injured? When would the vision come true? In a few days? Weeks? Months? There had never been any sort of time limit. The only guarantee was that it would happen. We’d never managed to stop one.
Red alert! Red alert! Impending emotional breakdown.
I shoved the worry into the mental box, stretching the sides. It was a fight, but I managed to lock the lid.
Better. For now.
“You can look at me,” he said. “I won’t bite...very hard.”
My gaze moved up, up and linked with his, and suddenly I was trapped by a yearning that had plagued me since the first moment we’d met. For him...for this...for more.
A slow grin lifted the corners of his wicked mouth.
Dude. While Gavin was pretty, Cole was pure, rugged sex appeal. He should totally come with a warning. Possible panty melting. Moonlight spilled over him, illuminating him, and for a few seconds, I thought I heard angels singing. His black hair stood out in adorable spikes, as if he’d plowed his hands through the strands one too many times. Eager to see me, perhaps? His gorgeous violet eyes were framed by lashes so thick and black, he always looked like he’d applied eyeliner.
As for the rest of him...
Good glory! I knew the physique hidden by his clothing. Skin bronzed to perfection. Muscles honed to perfection. A perfect chest covered by the most perfect tattoos. One of his nipples was pierced—meow!—and it was, you guessed it, perfect.
His knuckles feathered over my cheek, the slight touch electrifying me. “I missed you.”
Shivering, I said, “How much?”
“Why? Do you think you missed me more?”
“Sure of it.”
“I will happily prove you wrong. After I see my surprise.”
“Get ready for pure awesomeness.” I lifted my hair and pivoted, revealing my neck.
Silence descended.
I frowned, suddenly nervous. What if he didn’t like it? Ink was permanent.
“Ali.” His voice, so husky and deep, was temptation and silk, stroking over me. “Did I ever tell you all the reasons I love you?”
“No.” I licked my lips and shook my head, gathering the courage to face him. His eyes were heavy-lidded, smoldering.
He liked the tattoo.
“Tell me now,” I commanded softly.
“I’ll tell you the top ten. One,” he said and kissed my forehead. “You are brutally honest. It’s such a rare and precious trait.”
Major points for my man: he’d led with personality rather than appearance.
“Two.” He kissed my eye. “You have the perfect sense of humor...perfect for me. It’s a little warped, and a lot twisted, and you can make me laugh when no one else can.”
I almost melted. Almost. I had to hear the rest. “Go on or I’ll hurt you.” Had I sounded as breathless to him as I had to myself?
He chuckled. “Three.” He kissed my other eye, gentle, so gentle. “You’re smart. I want to see your brain naked.”
Ha!
“Four. You are freaking hot.”
“Obviously.” And okay, yeah, he got points for that, too. Maybe because I so very rarely felt hot. Or maybe because I so desperately wanted another kiss. A harder one. On my lips. With tongue and teeth. And roaming hands. Or maybe because I wanted him to want all of me.
“Five.” He kissed my cheek, and I moaned. More. “You are unbelievably kind.” He kissed my other cheek. “Six. You love with your whole heart, nothing held back.”
“Come on. Kiss me for real.” Did he want me to beg? Because I would...after I made him beg a little, too.
“Seven.” He pressed his lips against one side of my jaw, skipping my lips, dang him. “You are such a good fighter, I could stand back and watch you do all the hard work, and I wouldn’t feel like a wuss. I’d feel like a genius.”
“I’ll believe that when I see it.”
“Eight.” He kissed his way to the other side of my jaw. “The way you sometimes look at me... It’s as if I’m the sweetest dessert in the bakery and you are desperate for a bite.”
Yes, yes. A big, delicious bite. “At one time,” I said, the huskiness of my tone surprising me. I wrapped my arms around his neck. “That look of mine scared you.” With good reason. I’d been loaded with zombie toxin and had literally wanted to eat him. Well, not me but my zombie twin. Z.A.
“Nine,” he went on and nibbled on my ear. “You’re like the world’s most perfect drug. One hundred percent pure, guaranteed to addict after the first taste. I can’t imagine my life without you in it—don’t want to.”
My skin tingled, and my blood flashed white-hot. “Cole,” I said on another moan. I tangled my hands in his hair, angled his head, trying to take over. “Please. Stop talking, and start acting.”
“Ten,” he said and finally—blessedly—pressed his lips against mine. Only it was soft, far too soft. “You would die for me, the same way I would die for you.”
“Yes, yes, I would.” I waited for hard.
He didn’t give it to me. His face hovered directly over mine as he...deliberated his next move?
Happy to help with that. “Take off your shirt,” I commanded, already pulling at the material. “Now.”
He gave me a quick smile. “Impatient?”
“Feral. And don’t you dare complain. You’re to blame.”
“Complain? I’d rather celebrate.” He plucked his shirt from my hands. “Take off your coat.”
I was only surprised it hadn’t already burned off me. I was that hot for him.
As he jerked the cotton over his head, I yanked at my coat and sweater, leaving on the tank, jeans and boots...for now. My gaze, controlled by a force greater than myself, traveled all over him—gold star for this one, God—before settling on his chest. He’d tattooed my name in bold, black letters that stretched from one nipple to the other.
Breathing him in...mmm, soap and strawberries...I traced the design with shaky fingers.
He gave a little moan. “Before we start, Ali-gator, I’ve got to warn you.”
“Before we start?”
He fisted a handful of my hair, careful of my sore nape, and tugged me against him. Male strength against feminine softness. His gaze was fierce, unwavering. “I’m not going all the way with you.”
The heat in my blood instantly cooled. “But why?” Right after my brush with death, he’d been ready. More than ready.
And I had been, too. Still was. I’d accepted that sex was something I could never take back, that it would change the course of our relationship...and me. While I wasn’t a big fan of change, this was Cole. My Cole. I’d deal.
“After your grandmother interrupted us that night,” he said, “I got to thinking.” A hard mask fell over his features, making me suspect he’d done more than think. He’d probably listened to a lecture from his dad. “I’m eighteen. You’re sixteen.”
“Almost seventeen.”
“I’m a legal adult. You’re not.”
“Cole—”
“Let me finish.” His tone was now as hard as his features, intractable. “I think we should wait.”
I peered up at him. At five-ten, I was tall. At six-four, he was taller. He was wider than me, heavier, and anytime I was near him I felt utterly consumed by him. Usually I adored it. Today, not so much. “Two years is—”
“One year, three months.”
“—a long time,” I finished.
“Not when we’ve got a lifetime together.”
I opened my mouth to protest. Finally his lips crashed into mine.
Instant inferno. I kissed him with everything I had. We’d discuss the year-and-three-months wait at another time—maybe after I’d taken the edge off. Right now, I was simply going to enjoy him...and whatever he’d give me.
As my nails scraped against his back, and his hands anchored on my bottom, yanking me even closer, a thousand little fires ignited in my belly, spreading through the rest of me. What I’d thought was an inferno before? Not even close.
The flames must have spread through him, too, because he hoisted me up, rubbing himself against me. I wound my legs around his waist, practically melding our bodies together. He walked to the bed and laid me down, half of me hanging over the edge. All the while, the kiss continued. Hotter. Faster.
“We can do other things,” he rasped. “Like before.”
“Yes. Like before.” The things he’d made me feel...
He planted his hands at my temples and raised his head. Panting, he said, “But maybe we’ll go a little further this time.”
I licked my kiss-swollen lips and uttered a trembling “Why are you still talking?”
His grin was slow and wicked as he played with the clasp of my bra through my tank.
Beyond the bedroom door, glass tinkled.
Cole paused, frowned. “What—”
Multiple footsteps thumped against a wood floor.
Pop.
Pop.
Shocked, we bolted upright together. I knew that sound. Gunshot muffled by a silencer. But...but...
“Someone’s here,” Cole said, rushing to the nightstand to palm one of the weapons perched on top.
Who would attack the Hollands? And why? Doesn’t make any sense...no sense...
Cole gave me a sharp look.
Right. Arm up. I shook my head to disperse the fog of stupidity and pulled two daggers from my boots. I never went anywhere without them. But daggers were for up-close-and-personal grab-and-stabs with zombies. Shots had been fired. I wouldn’t be dealing with zombies.
I dropped the daggers and grabbed the pistol I had stashed in my coat.
“Cole! Run!” his father shouted—just as the bedroom window shattered.
Cole didn’t have a chance to run.
More glass shattered. Something launched him across the room like a rocket-propelled grenade. He smashed into the wall, slid to the floor, leaving a thick, bright red smear of blood behind him.
Chapter 3 (#ulink_ca54d3a9-c19b-5e42-81a6-d2a6fa2476fe)
NO SPILLED GUTS,
NO GLORY
What the heck was going on?
Gasping, I dropped to my knees. “Cole?” I whispered, frantically crawling toward him. The pistol clinked against the floorboards, reminding me of a ticking clock.
I hated ticking clocks. An entire life could be altered in a single second.
I released the weapon and pressed two fingers into his neck, feeling for a pulse. Don’t be dead, don’t be dead, please, please, don’t be dead. And yeah, okay, I knew death wasn’t the end for us. Look at my sister. But I wasn’t ready to lose any part of Cole.
Thump...thump. Thump...
Thank God! Slow, but strong. He was alive.
His eyes fluttered open. “Ali?”
“It’s okay,” I said. “You’re okay. You’re going to be okay.”
“What happened?”
I surveyed the damage. There was a hole in the shoulder. Blood soaked him.
“Someone just shot you, I think. Right in front of me. That someone could still be out there. We could still be targets.” The two halves of my brain were at war—hope versus dread—screwing with my focus. “What should I do?”
“Bind.” He spoke softly, the word little more than air. “Shoulder.”
Of course. Yes. I knew that. But...binding his shoulder wouldn’t do much good. Blood was gushing out of him. He needed fire; it would cauterize.
Slayers could produce fire; it was necessary to kill zombies. I could produce fire. When summoned, the flames crackled at the ends of our fingers. We pressed them into zombies, and the heat spread, purified, burning away evil and darkness. Eventually, zombies exploded. For some reason, I could flame from head to toe and only a moment of contact was needed to end a zombie.
When used on humans, the fire healed...sometimes. Sometimes it caused final death, just like with zombies.
It had healed me, and it would heal Cole. We were both slayers, and that was the key distinguishing factor between healing and exploding.
Right?
I had to try. He wouldn’t make it otherwise. He was hemorrhaging strength, his head lolling to the side. His lips were starting to turn blue, his skin chalk-white.
Frantic, I closed my eyes. Humans were made of three parts. The spirit, the source of life, was bound to the soul, which consisted of the mind, will and emotions. Both were housed inside the body, the outer shell. With a deep breath in...out...I forced my spirit and body to separate; it was like removing a hand from a glove. Because zombies were spirits, they could only fight other spirits. I’d learned to divide like this at a moment’s notice.
Cold air enveloped me. Without the insulation of skin and muscle, my spirit felt the temperature drop what seemed like a thousand degrees.
“What are...you doing?” As a slayer, Cole could see into the spirit realm. Could see me.
Couldn’t pause to explain. When it came to stuff like this, I was so new I had trouble multitasking.
Light, I thought, and the ends of my fingers heated. I peeked...flames crackled all the way to my wrist. Good, good. I reached inside Cole’s shoulder.
His breath hitched. That was it, his only reaction. Even still, I knew his pain was off the charts. Been here, done this. He’d basically just received third-degree burns on his soul. But he hadn’t turned to ash, so I would consider this a win.
I dismissed the flames and returned my spirit to its proper place with a simple touch, then studied Cole. His color was back to normal. That quickly. I grabbed the shirt he’d discarded and wrapped the material around the still-bleeding, but now-charring wound.
What next? I didn’t know if there were bad guys with guns trained on the open window that was allowing flurries to bluster inside the room. I didn’t know how many bad guys were in the house, shooting at Mr. Holland—or if Mr. Holland was still alive.
My insides twisted into a maze of painful knots.
No matter what, we couldn’t—wouldn’t—leave without him.
“Can you walk?” I asked.
Cole’s jaw clenched with determination. “I don’t...care if I...can. I will.”
Despite the pauses in his speech, his timbre was stronger. Not just because of the emergency cauterization, I was sure, but because his bones were reinforced with iron-hard resolve, and his muscles pumped full of courage.
“I’ll find your dad and meet you—”
“No.” His tone was inflexible, meant to stop any argument. “We stay together.”
“Time is of the essence.”
“Don’t care. My dad. My decision.”
Very well. “We need more weapons.” I crawled to the gun he’d dropped and slid it to him. Then I continued on to the nightstand and claimed the minicrossbow he had stashed there.
Cole struggled to his knees. “I’ll go through...door first. You stay...on my heels. Got it?” He yanked a backpack from his closet, grimaced.
No, I didn’t get it, and I wouldn’t do as he’d demanded. The strong led the weak, not the other way around.
“I’ll go first.”
“Just—” He frowned, then held up a finger for silence.
I paused to listen for suspicious noises. Wind whistled eerily and...ice crunched. Every instinct I possessed shouted red alert, red alert!
Someone was coming in hot.
I turned and aimed just as a masked man swung his legs through the window. As he straightened, I squeezed the trigger. An arrow lodged in his throat, shutting off his airway and cutting off a bellow of pain before it could even form.
A kill shot.
I’d done what was necessary. I couldn’t regret that.
Keeping my weapon trained on the intruder, I closed the distance. His head was turned to the side, his eyes open, but glazed. No pulse. He had an earpiece anchored to his lobe. I lifted the bud and listened, heard a tangle of voices.
“Hit. I’m hit—”
“—like me to proceed?”
“He’s dead—”
There were more of them.
The door wrenched open, and I spun. I registered Mr. Holland’s identity at the same time I gave the trigger a second squeeze, barely managing to twist my wrist and send the arrow into the post at his side.
“Get down,” Cole commanded with a mixture of concern and relief.
Mr. Holland remained on his feet. One of his eyes was swollen shut; he scanned the room with the other, inhaling sharply when he spotted Cole, exhaling slowly when he spotted me. Crimson streaked his face. “There were four. Three inside, one outside. But it looks like you got him.” He stalked to Cole’s side and peeled back the soaked cotton to check his wound.
Cole winced.
“Clean shot, all the way through. Edges burned. Bleeding slowing.” Mr. Holland threw the shirt aside, removed the one he wore and rebound his son. “We don’t have much time. One got away. He’ll come back with others.”
“I’ve already heard others,” I said. “On the dead guy’s earpiece.”
“Those men aren’t here. They’re at Ankh’s.”
Mr. Ankh, Reeve’s father. He wasn’t a slayer, but he funded our cause and allowed Nana and me to live at his house.
“Nana,” I rasped. “Kat.” She’d planned to stay the night with Reeve. Were they hurt?
Not knowing...
I should have been there, should have protected them.
“I’m sorry,” Mr. Holland said, “but I don’t know the outcome. This was a planned attack, meant to take us all down at once.”
All? “You mean—” No. No, no, no. I didn’t like where my thoughts were headed.
“Ankh called me. Someone shut down his security system. I was getting dressed, intending to go over there and help, when another call came in. Frosty. Soon after, Bronx rang. But I didn’t have a chance to answer either boy. Two men busted through our back door. So, yes. I suspect every slayer on our team was targeted tonight.”
Frosty. Bronx. Trina. Lucas. Cruz. Collins. Gavin. Veronica. Mackenzie. Justin. Jaclyn. If anything had happened to any of them... Different emotions hit me with the force of a baseball bat. Pain, regret, worry and a sharp lance of rage.
A to-do list took shape in my mind. Compartmentalize. Get Cole to a doctor. Find everyone else. Destroy the people responsible.
I didn’t have to wonder about the culprit. Anima Industries. No question.
“The Ankhs have multiple secret passages meant for quick getaways,” Cole said, his expression fierce. “Ankh got everyone out, Ali-gator. I guarantee it.”
Like me, he abhorred lies. I believed him.
I confiscated the backpack, and he winced. “Sorry,” I muttered as I anchored the strap over my shoulder. Whatever he’d stuffed inside weighed a million pounds. At least. “Let’s get out of here.”
We made it to the garage without incident, and I uttered a quiet prayer of thanks. Cole climbed into the passenger seat of his Jeep, and I set the backpack at his feet.
Mr. Holland tossed me a set of keys. “You’re driving.”
“Yes.” A license wasn’t important right now.
“Take him to Holy Trinity Church. Pastor’s office. Bookshelf.” Mr. Holland looked to Cole. “Like the shelter we built for your mom.”
Cole stiffened. Any mention of his mother always had that effect. She’d been a slayer, and she might have had a shelter, but she’d still died during a zombie attack.
Mr. Holland met my gaze. “That’s where Ankh and your grandmother will be if—”
They survived, I finished for him and would have flown straight into a panic if not for a whispering replay of Cole’s assurance. Ankh got everyone out, Ali-gator.
“Just make sure my boy gets there,” Mr. Holland said.
Nothing would stop me. “What about you?”
“I won’t be far behind.”
What did he have to do? Bury the bodies?
Oh, glory. Probably.
Trembling, I took my place behind the wheel. My palms sweat. My blood ran hot, but my skin iced over. Acid poured through me, stinging. As the garage door lifted, Cole reached over and squeezed my hand, offering what comfort he could. His skin was colder than mine and clammy.
“I won’t let anything happen to you,” I vowed, put the pedal to the metal and jetted onto the road. I braced myself, expecting a hail of bullets to pepper the vehicle. As seconds ticked into minutes, I began to relax.
If only the reprieve could have lasted. I turned a corner and spotted Gavin’s car wrapped around a pole. Steam curled from the crumpled hood. The driver-side door was open, but no one was behind the wheel.
“No,” I gasped out.
“He’s tough,” Cole said. “He’s smart, and he’s been through hell and back and survived.”
Tears welled as I parked in front of the wreckage. If Gavin survived, he was definitely injured. He would be nearby, hiding in the surrounding trees, waiting...unless he’d been carted somewhere else.
Searching for him could waste precious time. Time Cole didn’t have.
I had a choice to make.
Knowing how my mind worked, Cole said, “I’m wounded. Not dead. Stop worrying about me...and do what you have to do...for Gavin.” The more he spoke, the more labored his breathing became.
“I don’t want to leave you,” I admitted. “You need medical attention ASAP and—”
“Reason eleven,” he said, and it took me a moment to catch up. All the reasons he loved me. “You’re willing to risk...everything for your...friends. Besides, you won’t...be alone. Where you go...I go.”
What! “No. You’re staying in the car.”
“Ali.”
“Cole. You’re already panting. You’re still bleeding. Movement has increased the flow of blood. And you’re wearing shorts.”
His gaze raked over me. “Ali-gator. You’re wearing a tank.”
Again with the iron-hard resolve. “You’ll slow me down. And no, no more arguing. We’re sitting ducks here.”
He scowled. “Fine. Be careful...or I’ll be mad.”
I kissed him, hard and fast. Cold air cut at my exposed skin as I emerged. My feet had somehow morphed into heavy boulders, but I managed to maintain a swift pace, tracking a blood trail from the car to a tree that had scratches in the bark. From there I discovered a set of footprints that were the right size, with a depth consistent with Gavin’s muscled weight.
The prints stopped abruptly.
“Gavin,” I called, willing to chance Anima’s notice. Anything to help my friend. “It’s Ali.”
No response. Not even the call of insects.
The silence...killing me.
“Gavin. Please.”
Again, silence.
A well of tears. There wasn’t anything more I could do. I raced to the car. Cole was paler, and what little strength he’d gained had clearly abandoned him.
“Any...sign?” he asked.
“He was definitely here, but whether he’s unconscious or elsewhere, I don’t know. I’ll get you to Mr. Ankh and come back.” Before he could comment about the danger I’d be facing, I said, “How are you holding up?”
“Baby, we just got back together.” His teeth chattered. “There’s no way I’m dying right now.”
I wanted to turn on the heat, but didn’t. The low temperature was his best friend right now, helping to slow the bleeding. Thank you, old episodes of Scrubs.
“Do you promise?” I asked.
“Promise.”
* * *
I eased past the church. A beautiful three-story brownstone, shaped like an M. In the center, steep concrete steps led to the main door. Both sides were raised at the roof, coming to a point in the form of an intricate iron cross. I counted ten stained-glass windows, and all were intact. The parking lot was empty, illuminated by a single street lamp.
I searched the surrounding area for any sign that Mr. Ankh—or Anima—was nearby. As late as it was, the shops and cafés were closed. No one seemed to be huddling in the shadows. Only two cars were in the lot across the street, and both were empty. Neither belonged to anyone I knew.
I parked in a neighborhood two blocks away. Anima clearly knew where we lived. They also had to know what we drove. If they sent someone after us, I didn’t want the vehicle near the church.
“We’ll stick to the shadows and hoof it,” I said.
Cole grimaced as he swiped up the backpack. “You were...right. I’m slower. If trouble comes...don’t hang around...to help me. Get yourself...inside that building.”
No way. “We stay together, remember?”
“Only when...convenient for you.”
“Exactly.” I got out before he could respond, the cold sucking the air right out of my lungs.
When he stood beside me, mist dancing in front of his face, I tried to take the pack, but he scowled at me. “Reason twelve. Stubborn. But as long as...I’m breathing...I will protect you...carry what burden I can.”
That. That was one of the many reasons I’d fallen in love with him. “Cole—”
“Me man. You woman.” Everything about him was as hard as granite. He motioned forward with a tilt of his chin. “Walk.”
“Getting shot makes us cranky, I see.” On the lookout, I launched into action. The night had secrets hidden in its shadows, and if I wasn’t careful I could be bitten by one.
Cole stumbled several times but managed to keep up.
Coming to a small brick fence built for decoration rather than security, I crouched. No one loomed ahead; we scaled the obstruction with only minor difficulty and worked our way to the back of the church. While I used the skill I’d picked up from Frosty and jimmied the lock on the door, Cole leaned against the wall. His breathing was even more labored now. Should I use the fire again?
No time. Hinges squeaked as I shouldered my way inside the building. All the lights were out, pitch black greeting us with open arms. I used the flashlight app on my phone—there was an app for everything—chasing away the shadows. We were in a kitchen. It was small, but clean. We were alone. Ahead, a hallway branched in three different directions.
“This way.” Cole took the lead, his steps shuffling, his gait slower by the minute.
I made sure the light illuminated the way as we bypassed each of the doorways and entered the sanctuary. I muttered a prayer for strength and peace. Was Nana here? Were my friends? Or—
Borrowing trouble.
Right. We sailed through the sound room, a storage overflowing with choir robes, and finally entered the pastor’s office. Cole, who was wobbling on his feet, flipped on the overhead lamp, and I stuffed my phone in my pocket. I blinked in an effort to adjust to the added brightness and saw a bookcase, desk, computer, file cabinet and a few chairs.
“I’m missing something,” I said. “Where’s the shelter?”
“Here.” He squatted and scooped out the things inside the bottom cubby of the bookcase. Reaching back, he lifted a hidden hatch, revealing a tunnel just big enough for an adult male to crawl through.
“Down,” he said. “Hurry.” His lids closed...then snapped back open.
How close was he to passing out?
I practically flew through the hole—found a ladder. Darkness enveloped me as I descended. Like a real-life Alice in Wonderland, I thought with a nervous laugh. My palms began to sweat all over again, and I had to squash images of Cole losing his grip and tumbling to his death.
Trickles of light filtered in. At the bottom, I hopped to the cement floor. With my help, Cole was able to do the same with minimal pain.
“Anima will pay for this,” I vowed.
“Yes, and they’ll...pay...in blood.”
A lot of blood.
We were in a small, dim box of a room, but voices rose beyond the far right wall. Voices I recognized.
I bounded forward. “Nana!”
“Ali?” she responded.
Light brightened around the corner, and I quickened my pace, soon entering a spacious room loaded with gurneys, medical equipment and weapons. Nana, dressed in her favorite nightgown, headed straight for me. I gathered her in my arms and hugged her tight, doing my best not to snot-cry all over her.
“Thank God! You’re alive.” She was the only family I had left, and I would rather die than lose her. “You’re really alive.”
“I’m telling you, I had to be surrounded by angels tonight. There’s no other explanation for my survival.”
“I’m so sorry I wasn’t with you.”
“I was glad you weren’t. I would have hated knowing you witnessed the violence we did. You’ve seen too much already.” A shudder rocked her small frame, and I couldn’t bring myself to admit I had witnessed more than my fair share tonight, too. “I took comfort knowing you were out there and safe.”
Behind me, I caught the soft sound of shambling footsteps and pulled from Nana’s embrace. “I’ll be right back.” Cole had just passed the threshold, and I raced to his side.
His features were pinched, his skin pallid. He managed a small smile when I reached him. At this point, I think he was running on pure adrenaline. “Told you...she’d be...all right.”
“Gloat all you want.” Just live! I shoved the backpack from his shoulder, the heavy weight thumping against the floor. “Let’s get you to a gurney.”
“Ali, you have to know...not afraid...to die.”
Jolt! And not the good kind. “I know that.” A person afraid of dying could never really live, and Cole Holland definitely lived. “Why are you telling me this now? You made a promise to me and I expect you to keep it.”
He leaned against me in an effort to remain on his feet.
I wound my arm snug around his waist. “Mr. Ankh,” I called. “Help.”
The male stalked around a curtain. He was shirtless and stacked with as much muscle as the slayers; it looked like he’d been in the process of sewing his own wound back together, because a needle and thread hung from a thick, seeping gash on his clavicle. His usually dark skin was almost as pallid as Cole’s and was now marked with cuts and bruises.
He spotted us, quickened his pace. Together, we hefted Cole onto a gurney. Which was a big-time struggle. He passed out halfway up, becoming a dead weight. Mr. Ankh shouldered me out of the way to clean him up and patch the wound on his shoulder.
Mr. Ankh is a surgeon, I reminded myself. He knows what to do.
“He’s going to be okay, right?” I asked.
A tic below Mr. Ankh’s eye. He remained silent.
I pressed my lips together.
Compartmentalize.
Yes, but how much more could the compartments take?
Nana came up beside me, squeezed my hand.
“How did you get here?” I asked.
“One of the tunnels in Mr. Ankh’s house leads straight here.”
“Where are the others?” I scanned the room and answered my own question. Kat reclined on one of the gurneys, her dark hair tangled around her pale face, her expression...odd. Blank.
I frowned. Something—more than the obvious—was wrong with her.
Reeve sprawled on the gurney beside her, her hair just as tangled. Her eyes were closed, and she was so still she could only be...
No! “Tell me she’s okay.”
“She is. She had to be sedated.” Nana released a shuddering breath. “So did Kat.”
Okay. Okay. I could guess the reason. Reeve had probably tried to leave to find Bronx, and Kat had probably screamed bloody murder, desperate to get to Frosty.
“I have something to tell you, dear,” Nana said, sorrow practically dripping from her.
I stiffened. “No.” I could guess what was coming.
“You need to know. Two of the...” She sniffled. “Two slayers were...are...”
“No,” I repeated.
“Lucas and Trina. Beautiful Trina. They...”
I shook my head violently. Don’t want to hear this.
“Lucas called. Trina was with him. They were being chased. Ankh told them where to go. Then he and I... We left the girls here, sleeping in a safe room, and went to get the others.”
I focused on that—that Mr. Ankh had taken my grandmother from safety and placed her in danger—and not the words to come. Not... Don’t say it. Please, don’t say it.
“He suspected he would need my help. That he’d have to tend to their wounds while I drove. I wish he’d been right. It would have been—” She cleared her throat. “We arrived first. The two came running around the corner.”
She was. She was going to say it. “Nana, stop. Just don’t.” If she didn’t say it, and I didn’t hear it, it wouldn’t be real.
More sniffles, before she added, “Ankh tried. He tried so hard to kill their pursuers. And he did. But not before both kids were gunned down. They never made it to the car. I’m so sorry, dear. So very sorry.”
Not prepared.
Lucas and Trina. Dead.
Dead!
Two friends. Gone. Because Anima had decided to stop watching us, stop threatening us, and act. Because we’d become so caught up in our own little world, we hadn’t realized someone was about to unleash a maelstrom of pain.
I hadn’t gotten to say goodbye.
Just like that, the compartments burst at the seams and every emotion I’d managed to stave off came rising to the surface. Regret, worry and guilt, now mixed with grief, anguish and fury, created a tidal wave and flooded me.
Drowning...
I fell to my knees and sobbed.
Chapter 4 (#ulink_db3edc72-0e3d-5d8c-85d0-f403aaf14efd)
BRAINS ARE OVERRATED
(AND SALTY)
I had the strangest dream. A little girl, probably three, maybe four, was strapped to a chair, a plain but elegant woman sitting at her side, holding her hand. The woman had such a slender bone structure she looked like some kind of fairy princess from a storybook. She had wavy, shoulder-length hair the color of wheat and eyes so pale they were freaky.
I’d seen those eyes before. Many times before.
Like, every time I’d looked in a mirror.
They were rare. And yet, the little girl had those eyes, too.
Were they mother and daughter? Relatives I’d never met?
It was possible, I supposed. But why was I dreaming about them?
And why was I assuming this was real, just because it felt that way? Dreams were just that. Dreams. They weren’t fact.
“Don’t worry,” the woman said with a quaver. “Once they finish, I’ll take you home and make your favorite cookies.”
“I want to go home now. I don’t care about cookies.”
“I know you want to go, sweetie, I know. But you can’t. Not yet. This is necessary.”
“Why?” Tears fell in earnest. “They hurt me, Momma.”
The mother began to cry, as well. “You’re such a special little girl. You can do things no one else can. Through you, they can help other people. Save other people.”
They? Who were they?
“—not leaving her.” Nana’s voice registered, as did her concern.
The dream vanished in a puff of smoke.
I tried to open my eyes, didn’t have the strength. Lethargy made my skull feel as if it had been hollowed out and stuffed with boulders.
“You are.”
Mr. Holland’s voice now. He said something else, but a high-pitched ring invaded my ears, distorting the rest of the conversation. “—bry mand take see.”
“Moo bought I cast soon loo.”
I bit the side of my tongue, tasted the copper tang of blood. The ensuing pain must have set off a chemical reaction, releasing all kinds of goodies, because I received the boost I needed. The ringing faded, and tendrils of strength wound through me.
“—at war right now, and that makes you a target. Ali won’t be the fighter I know she can be, needs to be, if she’s worried about you.” Mr. Holland possessed the same iron-hard determination as his son, making the words sound as though they’d been chiseled from ice. “You’re going and that’s final.”
I cracked open my eyelids, then blinked rapidly to clear the blur. Meanwhile, memories banged at the door of my mind, demanding entrance. Before I could decide whether to accept or decline, the door splintered and I was bombarded. Cole, shot. Gavin, missing. Kat and Reeve, sedated. Trina and Lucas—
No.
No!
But there was no erasing the knowledge. They were dead. Shot and killed. Gone forever.
My mind shied away from the devastation. I couldn’t allow myself to grieve. Not now. Later, though...
Yes, later.
Right now, it was time to start compartmentalizing again. Nine of my friends were out there, targets to the madmen running Anima, and they had to be found.
Moaning, I sat up. Dizziness struck, as if it had been waiting for me.
Another memory took root. I’d broken down and cried. Mr. Ankh had approached my side and, while cooing comforting words at me, withdrew a syringe from his pocket and injected me with something. A sedative, I thought now, my jaw clenching with irritation.
“Easy, dear.” The sweet scent of Nana’s perfume teased me as a gentle arm wrapped around my shoulders to keep me upright.
My hands quaked as I rubbed my gritty eyes. The dizziness faded, the room and the people in it coming into perfect view. Nana, with her black bob brushed and gleaming, her nightgown replaced by an oversize T-shirt and a pair of sweatpants. Mr. Holland, standing beside her, his face cleaned and bandaged.
Beyond them, Kat and Reeve paced inside a small room surrounded by glass. Probably two-way mirrors. I met Kat’s gaze, but she looked away, as if she had no idea I was there.
“Are they confined?” I asked, and a second later Reeve beat at one of the walls.
“Yes. Frosty and Bronx have yet to be found, and the girls are determined to hunt them,” Mr. Holland said. “They tried to sneak out.”
Of course they did. “Release them,” I commanded. “Now. Kat’s not even a target. We can send her home.” Where she’d stay safe.
He gave a single shake of his head. “She is Frosty’s biggest weakness and one of yours. Of course she’s a target. And we both know she won’t go home. She’ll go after her boyfriend, no matter what we tell her. Reeve, too. And while both girls have had some training in self-defense, they aren’t ready for an all-out war, which is exactly what they’ll get. They stay.”
Stay, yes, I conceded. Locked away? No. But we’d come back to that. “Where’s Cole?”
Nana squeezed me tight. “Don’t you worry about him. He’s doing well. Better than any of us expected. Ankh hauled him to the house to feed him.”
Relief was, oh, so sweet. “So it’s safe to go back?”
“Safer by the minute,” Mr. Holland said with a nod. “When Ankh isn’t playing doctor, he’s working on the security. As soon as he’s satisfied there are no other hidden vulnerabilities, we’ll be able to go in and out the front door. Until then, we are to sneak through the tunnel.”
“What about the other slayers?”
The vim and vigor seeped out of him, and his shoulders slumped. He looked away from me, no longer able to hold my gaze. “We don’t know where they are.”
But he knew something. He just didn’t want to tell me what it was. Hands beginning to sweat, I said, “Text them. Tell them to come here and—”
“I want to,” he interjected with a shake of his head, “but I won’t. Anima could have their phones.”
He was right. Dang it!
He scrubbed his fingers through his hair. “Every news station has been running a story about last night’s eruption of ‘gang violence.’ They claim Cole is the leader of one gang, and his rival, a street thug named River Marks, decided to get rid of him and his crew.”
“Wait. How did they know Cole was any kind of leader?” And did the police know I’d shot and killed someone in his home?
I sucked in a fiery breath. Oh, glory, I’d shot and killed someone.
Compartmentalize.
“No.” Mr. Holland’s features softened as he computed the direction my thoughts had taken. “I snuck back to the house this morning. Someone had come by and cleared away the, uh, collateral damage. The cops saw that the house was broken into, and Cole’s blood was on the wall, but nothing more.”
Anima had gone back, then.
“For now,” he added, “we lay low. We let Anima wonder who survived.”
And who didn’t, I finished for him, taking a few seconds to breathe. The problem with such a plan was that we had to wonder, too.
“Again,” I said, “I’m unsure how the police connected the dots to Cole. They should have just assumed he was a victim.”
Mr. Holland worked his jaw. “Apparently, a mysterious source called in the information.”
Mysterious. In other words, Anima.
Nana rested her head on my shoulder. “Tell her the rest, Tyler. Better it come from you than someone else.”
My heart dropped. “What is it?”
He closed his eyes, but not before I caught a flash of grief. “Cruz is... He’s dead, too. He was found in his bed, a bullet in his brain.”
No. No, no, no. Another friend lost. A beautiful life ended far too soon.
Compartmentalize!
“I’m going after the others,” I announced. They were out there. They were alive.
They had to be alive.
I was going to find them and bring them back.
Mr. Holland didn’t hesitate. He nodded, surprising me.
“I’m taking Kat and Reeve with me,” I added. They weren’t ready for war, no, but I couldn’t drive and search and defend myself and patch injured slayers.
Even superheroes needed sidekicks.
“God save me,” he muttered, scrubbing a hand over his face. “After what happened with Ethan, Ankh will never allow you to put Reeve in Anima’s path.”
Ethan. My hands curled into fists. Reeve had dated Ethan before she’d started dating Bronx. He’d secretly worked for Anima, gleaning her secrets, our secrets, and ultimately leading to her kidnapping and my torture.
“I hate to break it to you,” I announced, “but what you said about Kat is true of Reeve, as well. She’s already in their path. Whether she’s with me or not, she’s in danger.”
He flashed a quick smile. “Save the arguments for Ankh.”
Mr. Ankh, the world’s most stubborn male. And that was saying something, considering Cole was in the running. “I will.” Now, to circle back to the start of our conversation. “Free the girls. I’ll take them to the house, and the three of us will do whatever’s necessary to get through to boss-man.”
“Free them yourself.” He pulled a chain from around his neck, a key dangling at the end, and tossed it at me. “I just came from the house, and I’m not going back.” His gaze swung to Nana. “I’m taking your grandmother out of state. For her protection,” he added with more volume.
Ah. Their earlier fight suddenly made sense.
Nana morphed from calm to practically spewing fire in the snap of fingers. “I told you before, but I’ll tell you again, because you are obviously hard of hearing. I’m not going anywhere. Did you understand that time? Anywhere.”
We’d see about that, too.
I cupped her cheeks, and stared into dark eyes so like my mother’s and little sister’s—eyes that both broke me and made me stronger. “You must,” I said gently. “For me.”
Astonishment wafted from her. She shook her head, uttering one succinct word. “No.”
“These people are ruthless, Nana. They kidnapped me, tortured me, and when they finished with me, they would have killed me in the most painful way possible. Yesterday, they did kill three of my friends.” Hot tears suddenly streaked down my cheeks. “They must be destroyed.”
“But—”
I cut her off with a firm “I know these people. They won’t hesitate to hurt you to get to me. So please. Please! Go with Mr. Holland. Stay safe so that I can stay focused.”
A beat of silence...another...each crackling with tension.
“I will go with him,” she said, surprising me. Then she added, “But only if you’ll come with us.” I heard the despair in her tone. “My husband is dead. My daughter is dead. My only other grandchild is dead. I can’t lose you, too.”
Destroying me. “Nana. If I don’t do this, you’ll lose me anyway. I won’t be...me.” I’d been born for this. I wasn’t afraid. I was ready.
“At least let me try to protect you.”
From the corner of my eye, I saw Mr. Holland pull a syringe from his pocket. Going to drug her like Mr. Ankh had drugged me? Oh, man. When she woke up, she would be tee-icked.
Worth it. I clasped her hands in mine. “I’m needed here,” I said, and she once again shook her head. “Only slayers can fight Anima and zombies. And you know we’ll be facing both.”
He gently struck.
Her eyes widened, and she gasped.
“Please understand,” I whispered, “and know that I’m truly sorry.”
“Ali...together...” Her lids closed, her head slumping forward. Her knees buckled.
Mr. Holland caught her before she hit the ground and cradled her against his chest.
“Stay with her,” I commanded, shoving a new wave of guilt in that mental box. “Take care of her. Guard her with your life.”
“I will.” His eyes were diamond-hard, cold and almost cruel. “I don’t want to go. I would be of help here. But I can’t fight the zombies. Plus, I’m out of practice, and you’re not, and I know Cole. I know he’d want your grandmother safe at any cost. Besides, I can work from the sidelines and text you anything I learn.”
“I won’t let anything happen to your son,” I replied softly.
He nodded, satisfied. “I’m not going to tell you where we’re going. It’ll be better if you don’t know.”
“Agreed.”
“This morning, I bought ten burner phones and gave them to Cole. He has my new number, and I have his. If anything happens, you call me.”
“You have my word.” I placed a soft kiss on Nana’s cheek and smoothed the hair from her brow. “Tell her I’ll call her at least once a day.”
He turned and stalked out of sight.
I missed her already.
I strode to the back room and unlocked the girls. The door was open only a crack when they bum-rushed me, pushing their way out. I stumbled backward as their gazes found me.
Reeve had been ready to fight, her hands balled into fists. Now she breathed a sigh of relief. “Ali. You’re all right.”
Kat had been ready to fight, as well, her eyes narrowed, her teeth bared in a fierce scowl. Her cheeks were paler than they’d been last night, the stress of the situation hell on her malformed kidneys.
“Ali!” she cried.
Before I could blink, the two were on me, hugging me, kissing my cheeks, crying on my shoulders.
“I’m so freaking scared,” Kat admitted. “This situation is so not cake. Mr. Ankh told us slayers were attacked last night, that Lucas and Trina... They were—” She gulped, unable to finish the sentence.
“I know,” I said, somehow speaking past my own trembling. I brought her hand to my cheek, needing to feel her skin against mine. She was here, and she was okay. “Cruz was... He was... He’s gone, too.”
Both girls tensed, and I knew they were wondering how many others had been taken from us...and how much loss we were going to suffer before this war ended.
“Have you seen Bronx?” Reeve asked.
“No. I’m sorry,” I replied, and her shoulders drooped. Then I gave her the comforting words Cole had given me. “He’s tough. He’s smart, and he’s been through hell and back and survived. This? This is nothing.”
“What about Frosty?” Kat said, shaking me. Her emotions were too much for her small figure to contain.
“I haven’t seen him, either,” I admitted. But if I knew the boys, and I did, they were frantic for news about their girls. They wouldn’t have gone far. “Don’t worry. We’ll find them.”
“Together,” she insisted. “Don’t try to send me home. I won’t go. I won’t! I’ve already called my dad, told him I’m spending the next few weeks with Reeve. Maybe even longer.”
Something wonderful about her father: he let her do anything she wanted.
“If you guys are in danger,” she continued, “I’m in danger, and I don’t want my dad caught up in it. Besides, if I stay, I can cancel my dialysis at the hospital and Mr. Ankh can do it here.”
I held up my hands, a gesture of acceptance. “I agree with you. Now let’s put on our big-girl panties and go convince Mr. Always Right that he’s seriously wrong.”
Chapter 5 (#ulink_dc01e7d7-ed09-5ec8-ac18-d84b8d5f4e74)
IMPOSSIBLE?
ONLY IMPOSSIBLE-ISH!
Reeve drove a golf cart through the dark, damp tunnel, all the way to the basement of her mansion. A place we’d often referred to as “the dungeon.” I expected Cole to be there, lying atop one of the many gurneys, feasting on egg whites and turkey bacon—that was healthy, right?—but he wasn’t. I ignored my twinge of disappointment.
A fingerprint ID allowed Reeve through another door and into the house itself. On our feet now, Kat and I followed her up a flight of creaky stairs we’d traversed too many times to count. Usually, at the top, all vestiges of dungeon vanished, replaced by the luxuries of massive wealth. Rich mahogany-trimmed walls. Plush carpets probably woven by enchanted fairies. Glossy antique furniture. Not today. Graffiti decorated the walls in a collage of every color imaginable.
Somewhere, a rainbow was weeping.
There were rips and holes in the carpets, and several pieces of the furniture were in pieces.
Had Anima trashed the place to give credence to the supposed gang war?
Yeah. Probably. Just one more crime to add to their ever-growing list.
Reeve pressed a button on the intercom. “Daddy. Where are you?” she asked, an edge to her tone.
“My office, princess,” he returned, his voice weary. “Ali, Cole’s in your bedroom and he’s been asking for you. I suggest you visit him before I’m forced to restrain him.”
I gave Kat and Reeve a hug and said, “Don’t tell Mr. Ankh what we’re planning. I’ll lead the conversation after I’ve seen Cole.” I pulled away.
I think they nodded. I was moving down the hall already, too quickly to keep track.
I flew up another flight of stairs, darted down a hallway, snaked a corner and raced into the bedroom. Instant surge of relief. The other piece of my soul was propped against the bed’s headboard, embraced by fluffy white pillows. His skin had a healthy tint, and the violet eyes I so adored were no longer glazed with pain, but bright and alert. His left arm was in a sling and his right had IV tubing running through his vein. His chest was half-covered by bandages.
“Ali.” His gaze heated as it locked with mine, and I would have sworn the earth tilted.
A second later, my surroundings faded—
—and suddenly Cole was stalking down a narrow corridor. Blood trickled from his lip.
I was slung over his shoulder, my fists beating at his back, my knees digging into his torso. “Let go,” I demanded.
“Never again,” he countered.
“You keep saying that. What do you want with me? What do you want from me?” As if I didn’t know him, sometimes better than I knew myself.
“I want what I’ve always wanted. Everything—”
—as suddenly as it had begun, the vision ended.
Because the world was tilting. I was falling, hitting my knees.
“Ali!” Cole threw his legs over the side of the bed.
“Stay where you are or you’ll rip out your IV! I’m okay.” I stood, shaking off the momentary flash of dizziness that had taken me down. Lingering effects of the sedative, I was sure.
Cole didn’t listen. He made to rise. I rushed to his side, easing onto the mattress, pressing my hip against his and pushing him to his back. For now, I didn’t care about the vision. We’d seen it weeks before, and we would see it again. We’d figure it out then.
“You should be used to girls falling at your feet,” I said.
He cracked the barest hint of a smile. “I’d rather have one girl standing beside me.”
Sweet-talker. “How are you?”
He twined his fingers with mine, lifted our joined hands and kissed my knuckles. “I’m better now that you’re here.”
Six little words, and yet my heart swelled with love. Were all guys so open about their feelings? So willing to admit when they needed, when they wanted...when they had to have or else?
“How’s your recovery?” I asked.
“Better than it should be. Nearly burning me alive was a good call.”
I donned a haughty air. “Did you ever doubt it?”
“Only all night and a little this morning.”
“So hardly at all.”
He cracked another smile. “Last night I was getting weaker, so I performed the fire trick on myself. Charged me right up. But had it not been for you, I wouldn’t have known to do it.”
“So you owe me.”
“Exactly. I pay in kisses.”
“Good thing I accept that currency.” I adored this playful side of him—and hated knowing it wouldn’t last. “Have you been told about Trina, Lucas and Cruz?” I asked softly.
“Yeah.” He scoured his other hand over his face. “But that’s not all. The gym burned down.”
Horror sped through me at full throttle. “Bronx. Mackenzie. They were there.”
He gave a clipped nod. “The good news is, no bodies were found inside.”
Okay. Okay, then. They’d either gotten away or been captured. Just like all the others.
Stomach cramp.
“We haven’t heard from anyone. News stations have been blasting stories about the attacks, but besides Cruz, no other murders have been reported.” I paused, mentally preparing myself for a fight. “I’m taking Kat and Reeve, and we’re going on a hunt.”
He surprised me by giving another nod. “That’s great.” Of course, he just had to add, “I’m going with you,” which deflated me.
“You need to stay in your sickbed for at least a month, the way you made me stay in mine.” I’d been recovering from a stab wound—one he had given me.
Don’t worry. It wasn’t domestic abuse or anything. He hadn’t done it on purpose.
“Try to keep me here. I dare you,” he said, then winked. A challenge? “You’ll end up beside me.”
“Oh, no. Not that. Anything but that,” I responded with a mock shudder.
“Smarty.” He tweaked the end of my nose. “Even on my worst day, with both hands tied behind my back, and no gun, I can shoot better than you.”
“Maybe so,” I said, practically dripping sweetness. “But you have no control over your swords.”
His eyes narrowed. “Low blow, Miss Bell. Very low blow.”
“I thought so.” I fluffed my hair.
“Does Ankh know what you’re planning with his precious?”
“Not yet.”
“Are you actually going to ask him for permission?”
“Well, yeah.” The girls and I could leave without his knowledge, sure. I was good at sneaking. But he would panic and go looking for his daughter, maybe get himself killed. I didn’t need the added guilt.
“He won’t just say no,” Cole said. “He’ll try to sedate you and lock you up.”
Yeah. Probably. “I’ve seen his work firsthand. But I’m onto his tricks now.” He wouldn’t catch me off guard a second time. “He’s just going to have to trust me and stop trying to surround Reeve with bubble wrap.”
“I get where he’s coming from,” Cole said, everything about him softening. “To Ankh, she is a reason for getting up in the morning, and there’s nothing more important to him. Without her, he might as well just curl up and die. And that, Miss Bell, is exactly how I feel about you.”
Oh, glory. Nana had destroyed me with her declaration, but Cole...Cole was utterly slaying me....
“There’s a difference between you and Mr. Ankh,” I said with a soft smile. “You know I can defend myself, and you trust me to make smart decisions. Isn’t that right, Mr. Holland?” Eew. No way I’d use the name reserved for his father.
Backtrack. “Mr. Cole.”
He tugged on a lock of my hair. “That’s right. Therefore, I will girl up, as Kat likes to say, since that’s apparently better than manning up, and I will let you go—”
“Wait. You’ll let me?” I interjected with attitude.
“—without a fight,” he finished. “Besides, I wasn’t asking if I could come with you. I was telling you I’d be by your side.”
Le sigh. His determination was kicking up a fuss again. “What’s your blood pressure? Do you have a temperature? Are you even steady on your feet?”
He smiled and said, “Reason number thirteen. You always ask way too many questions.”
Of all the things I’d expected him to say, that didn’t even come close. He definitely had to be feverish. “That’s a reason you love me?”
“See? Another question. But yes, it is. It’s charming.”
Well, he was the only one who thought so. Other people found it off-putting. And that was being kind!
I leaned over and kissed his brow, careful not to brush against his injury, then pressed my brow into his. “Don’t think the fact that you avoided discussing your condition has escaped my notice. But I’ll let it slide...and I’ll let you come with me. As long as you stay in the car.”
“Let me?”
“Oh, good. Your ears are working.”
The softness faded from his expression, fierce protectiveness taking its place—as well as cold-blooded aggression.
The aggression wasn’t directed at me, I knew, but at Anima.
“Let’s play a little game I like to call Cole’s in Charge and Ali’s Not.”
“Pass! Played it before, hated every second.”
The flash of another grin. “You know I think you hung the moon, right?”
“Right. Just like I know you held the ladder and looked up my skirt.”
“But you’re not going to talk me out of this,” he continued. “So, go down, speak with Ankh. I’ll get dressed.”
Stubborn boy. “I’d offer to take out your IV, but that would make me an enabler.”
“Won’t be the first time I’ve removed one myself.”
The Care and Feeding of an Alpha Male 101. Sometimes, you just had to humor them. “Fine. Have fun with that.”
“Don’t leave without me,” he commanded as I stood. “I mean it.”
“Fine, fine.” I held up my hands, all innocence. “I’ll wait for you to come downstairs.”
Moving as fast as lightning, he leaned forward and hooked me by the nape, tugging my face to his. He kissed me hard and fast—no innocent forehead peck for this boy, not this time—and I moaned at his ferocity. “Also, don’t even think about sedating me.”
“Fine,” I snapped. He was severely limiting my options.
I left the room and stalked down the stairs, texting Nana along the way. I just couldn’t help myself.
I love U. So much. One day, I hope U’ll 4give me.
She’d wake up...wherever, and the note would be waiting for her.
I sent her a second message. 1st update. I’ve seen Cole & he’s back 2 his bossy self. I’ve set Kat & Reeve free, & now I’m going 2 chat w/Ankh then find rest of slayers. I’ll B careful, swear!
Mr. Ankh and the girls were in the kitchen, eating sandwiches.
Not one to waste time, I explained my search and rescue plan while slapping together a PB&J. The conversation went better—and worse—than I’d hoped. Before I’d even finished, Mr. Ankh was shaking his head. I didn’t let that stop me, however. The fact was, I didn’t just need Kat and Reeve. They needed me. They’d rather die than stay behind.
“No,” he said. “You’re too recognizable. Anima will see you, follow you and then kill you all.”
I could suggest we spend a few hours dyeing our hair, altering our appearance, but even that wasn’t a guarantee we’d escape notice. “With this supposed increase of gang violence, the police will be everywhere. Anima wouldn’t dare try anything in public.” I hoped.
“It’s too dangerous,” he insisted. “Kat is sick. She needs rest and relaxation, not—”
“Hey! Don’t make me pimp-slap you, Dr. Jekyll and Mr. A. Because I will.” Kat raised her hand to prove she meant business. “I’m ready to roll.”
He pursed his lips, as if he’d just sucked on a lemon. “I’m not an unreasonable man.”
Ha!
“And I know the others need to be found. So, I’ll go with Ali, and you girls will stay here.”
Uh, that would be a big fat no. He played by the rules. We made our own. “Don’t worry. We’ll have a bodyguard. Cole is coming with us.”
“Cole? Hardly.” Mr. Ankh rubbed his forehead. To ward off an ache? “That boy needs rest just as much as Miss Parker does.”
“So he doesn’t need any, and he’s good to go?” Kat quipped.
“Tell that to him,” I said to Mr. Ankh, then hiked my thumb at Kat. “And her.”
He threw his arms up, all I’m the last sane man in the universe. “Why do I even bother? No one ever does as I recommend anyway.”
All right. I’d try this from a different angle. Hopefully one that wouldn’t give him a coronary. “Had you told everyone about the church,” I said, “this could have been avoided. But you didn’t.” Throwing blame. Maybe not the best route. But the truth was the truth, and I wasn’t going to sugarcoat it.
He glared at me. “After Justin betrayed us, I wasn’t sure who I could trust, and I wanted Reeve to have an escape that no one else knew about. You can’t fault me for that.”
I heard the guilt in his tone. The self-recrimination. “No. I can’t.”
I hadn’t been part of the group back when Justin started sharing slayer secrets with Anima. But I had been part of the group when his equally culpable twin sister was captured and tortured right alongside me, and he’d realized just how badly he’d screwed up. He’d helped us destroy an entire contingent of Anima soldiers.
“If you have a better idea for finding the others,” I said, after devouring the last of my sandwich, “I’ll do it.”
“Hey,” both girls bellowed in unison.
Mr. Ankh glared at me.
“Daddy,” Reeve said, “I’ve been training. I’m not helpless. And I want to help. I need to help. Don’t stand in my way. Let me act like the girl you raised me to be. Strong. Courageous. The girl you wished Momma had been.”
Her mother hadn’t been able to see the zombies, but still she’d feared them. That fear had grown...and grown...until she’d committed suicide.
My mind drifted to my own mother. Her family had come from a line of slayers, but she herself hadn’t been able to see the zombies, either. She’d been so beautiful. Short, with dark hair, eyes and skin. Just like my sweet Emma. When people had seen the three of us together, they’d assumed tall, fair me was adopted.
“Very well,” Mr. Ankh finally croaked. “Do what you think is best. But I want you back within these walls by ten. No later.”
I nodded, flabbergasted by his acceptance. I hadn’t even had to beg.
“If you’re saying yes just so you can blindside me with a sedative before I walk out the door,” Reeve said, deflating some of my triumph, “you should know that this is the last time I will ever trust you.”
He held her gaze for a long while, his eyelids slits, and I knew what he was thinking. First: Crap, she figured out my plan. Second: She’s not ready for this.
And he was right. She wasn’t.
In training, it was best to start with something easy, win and move on to something harder. Build your confidence and your skills. Reeve was still in the “easy” phase, and yet I expected her to remove her training wheels and slay a dragon?
So, I totally got Mr. Ankh’s fear. I simply wasn’t going to cave to it. We had a choice. Give up and let the enemy do worse, or rise up with what we had and go balls to the wall.
I was going balls to the wall. And if I lost, at least I’d go out in a blaze of glory.
“Fine,” he said, releasing a breath of defeat. He flattened his hands on the table—in an effort to avoid his needles, I was sure. “Go with Ali. Search.” His dark gaze slid to me and narrowed. “I’m holding you responsible for her safety. Kat’s, too.”
He wasn’t the only one.
Jaw clenched, he said, “There’s a car in the church parking lot you can use. It’s beaten up on the outside, but the engine purrs with more than a hundred ponies ready to run.”
Typical guy description.
I gave him a jaunty salute.
He marched off to his office, mumbling under his breath, and we marched to the armory.
By the time the girls and I finished loading up with weapons—daggers in our boots, sedatives in our purses, guns sheathed at our waists, extra bullets in our pockets, brass knuckles on our hands—Cole was dressed and ready, the IV nowhere in sight.
His cheeks were paler than before, indicative of the strain he’d just put himself through, as he handed each of us one of the burners. “My new number is already programmed in.”
“Sweet sling, Cole,” Kat said with her patented smile. “It only knocks three points off your alpha-male card.”
His response was dry. “I’m sure spanking a naughty little girl like you will return my number to its original glory.”
Kat’s wide gaze immediately swung to me. “You didn’t tell me that your boyfriend had a pain-and-punishment fetish.”
“You didn’t ask. But yeah, he does. I’m threatened with a spanking daily.”
“Lucky,” she whispered, skipping past me, heading toward the entrance to the secret passage.
We climbed in the golf cart, Reeve at the wheel.
“Where do you want to go first?” she asked. “When we’re topside, I mean.”
“I...don’t know,” I said. There were too many options. Gavin’s car. Was it still there? Frosty’s house. Justin and Jaclyn’s house. Actually, any of the slayers’ homes.
“Then it doesn’t matter which road we take,” Kat pointed out. “With nowhere to go, we’ll never reach a destination.”
A nice way of saying make a decision already, dummy.
“We’ll go to Cole’s gym.” Or what was left of it. Any slayers on the run might have gone there. Might have stuck close by after the fire had died, hoping other slayers would show up.
Reeve parked at the back of the room, the one with the gurneys, and we walked to the ladder.
“What happens if we get separated?” she asked.
Hope for the best, plan for the worst. “If you can, get your butts back here. If you can’t, hide and call me. If you lose your phones, don’t panic. I’ll find you. Whatever it takes.”
But I couldn’t help wondering if I’d just made the worst decision of my life.
Chapter 6 (#ulink_6de8a19e-eba1-569c-9a57-ff3e6e65ad67)
EAT YOUR HEART OUT
The gym was a pile of charred rubble, as expected, but the sight of it made my heart fester and ooze with an infected wound in need of tending. Shouldn’t be this way. The air, heavy with smoke, painted the surrounding landscape an eerie gray. There was something very postapocalyptic about it. As if we were the only survivors and we now had to figure out how to navigate a new world.
At least there wasn’t a rabbit cloud.
The authorities had already come and gone, leaving barricades behind.
Reeve hid our car at the side of another house. The gym was—had been—a large red barn planted in the middle of a neighborhood with homes spaced apart by acres of wheat and surrounded by a forest.
Any one of my friends could be waiting in the forest. Possibly injured.
Possibly being hunted.
“Reeve, you’re with Cole,” I said, taking charge. “Kat, you’re with me.”
“Prison rules?” Kat asked. “Kill first and ask questions later?” She withdrew a .38 revolver. It had no safety, but it did have a laser at the end to help her sight whatever she wanted to hit. Plus, the trigger was coiled tighter to prevent her from shooting accidentally.
Yeah. It had happened. She startled easily.
Reeve pulled a .22 from her purse. The gun had very little backlash, was more likely to irritate a target than kill it, but with halfway decent aim, she would be able to slow even the biggest of men.
“Actually, we’re going by Holland rules,” Cole said. “The best safety is this.” He wiggled his index finger in front of their faces. “Don’t put yours near the trigger unless you’re ready to fire. Side note. You aren’t ready to fire unless Ali or I say you’re ready.”
“But keep your weapons out and ready,” I added.
Cole kissed me before we disembarked, sending a warm pulse through me. With the girls at our sides, we ran toward the forest, tree limbs seeming to go out of their way to slap us. When we were deep enough inside that we were concealed from prying eyes, everyone slowed and moved in the direction of the gym.
“Ready to split up?” I asked. “You guys come in from the west, and we’ll come in from the east. We’ll cover more ground.”
“Sounds good.” Cole held out his arm, stopping me. Which in turn stopped the girls. His gaze pierced me. “Don’t get hurt. I mean it.”
“As if I’d dare. But you’d better be careful, too. You aren’t just a pretty decoration for the world to enjoy, you know. You’re my decoration.”
“And you’re my toy.”
We shared a look ripe with amusement and promise before branching apart.
“You guys are weird,” Kat said, “but the good news is, Cole is probably stronger than ninety-nine percent of the population, even with his arm in a sling.”
“A perfect description for Frosty, too.”
“True story.” Worry in her eyes, quickly extinguished.
With every exhalation, mist formed in front of my face. A signal trained trackers would pick up on, but it couldn’t be helped. We made our way to the east side of the gym and...saw footprints! Excitement mingled with hope, filling me up and giving me new purpose. Who had made them? Bronx or Mackenzie?
But...why not both? Why was there only one set?
Some of my excitement drained.
“Come on.” We followed the prints for a few yards. They were big. Too big to belong to Mackenzie. One—the right one—dragged. And there was a drop of blood beside that one...and that one. Bronx, if that’s who had left these, was injured.
I stepped through one line of bush after another, remaining on alert, my .44 at the ready. The drops were getting thicker, and I thought the person responsible must have begun to drag his other foot, too...only to stop. I looked around. Saw nothing. Up. Down. Left. Right. Where the heck—
“There!”
My excitement returned in an instant. He’d camouflaged himself with mud and leaves, and if not for the green of his eyes, I would have missed him. He was leaning against the tree, and “he” wasn’t Bronx. He was Gavin.
Kat and I rushed to his side. He didn’t respond. He was still, too still, his head resting on his shoulder. On closer inspection, blood was clearly mixed with the dirt, and my heart sank. His mouth was tinted blue, and, despite the cold, his teeth weren’t chattering.
My hand shook as I felt for his pulse....
“Please, tell me he’s alive,” Kat pleaded.
“Yes,” I nearly shouted. “He is.”
“Thank God!” She exhaled with relief. But she was paler than she’d been a moment ago, and I wasn’t sure if the problem was stress or her kidneys. Or both.
“Gavin,” I said, gently patting his cheeks, willing my warmth into him. “You’ve got to help us get you to your feet. We may be strong, but we’re not strong enough to carry you to safety fireman-style, so you’ve got to walk. Come on, Barbie. Please. Do it for your favorite cupcake.”
He didn’t even blink.
Very well. We’d do this the hard way. The riskier way. The same way I’d helped Cole.
“Watch my back,” I told Kat. “In a few seconds, Gavin might grunt or scream. Don’t touch him. Don’t touch me.” She wasn’t a slayer. She wouldn’t be able to see me in spirit form, and she wouldn’t be able to feel my fire—until it was too late, and she was dead.
She didn’t bother asking questions. Trusting me, she got into position behind Gavin, on the alert for any signs of an ambush.
I closed my eyes, drew in a deep breath. Held it, held. As I exhaled, my spirit emerged. I quaked from the newest increase of cold, ice crystals buying prime real estate in my chest.
“Light,” I commanded my hand.
This time, it did not obey.
Okay. So. Starting a fire was going to be difficult this go-round. Noted.
But I didn’t give up. Strength to summon the flames came by faith. A spiritual weapon for a spiritual power source. I didn’t allow myself to worry, either. Worry actually weakened faith.
“I can do this,” I said. “I will do this. Now. Now! Now!”
Words were another spiritual weapon. They could be used for my good or my bad. Positive or negative. Today, I focused on the positive and flames sprang from the ends of my fingers, slowly spreading to my wrist. Slow. Not what I was used to, but okay. I could work with this.
Unsure of Gavin’s injuries, I pressed my hand into his chest—his sluggish heart.
He didn’t ash, thank God, but he did unleash a broken scream, his back bowing. At any other time, the sound of his pain might have made me flinch. Now? I smiled.
I maintained the contact for several seconds before withdrawing, dismissing the flames and returning to my body.
“You can touch us now,” I told Kat.
Gavin groaned.
“Good boy,” I said, wanting to dance and sing. I hadn’t lost him. “I know it hurts, but you’re stronger than a little pain, right? And if not, well, you’ll soon get to enjoy Mr. Ankh’s vast array of drugs, so it won’t matter.”
He tried to focus on me, but his eyes were rocking back and forth, unable to stay locked on any one object. A sign of dizziness. “Ali?”
“Yeah, I’m here.”
“Kat, too.” She moved to his left, squeezed his hand.
“Kat, I need you to text Cole,” I said. “Tell him to return to the car, that we’ve found Gavin, and he’s hurt pretty bad.”
“On it,” she said, withdrawing her phone.
Now for the hard part. “We can help you, Barbie, but we need you to stand.”
He didn’t act as if he’d heard me. “Wreck...was chased, shot at...ran, lost tail...got to gym...fire...”
“I know. Everyone but Cole is missing,” I said as gently as possible. I’d tell him about the deaths after he was stabilized.
“Frosty,” he said, then grimaced and clutched his side.
Kat pocketed her phone and pinched his chin, forcing him to face her. “What about him? Have you seen him?”
“Ali,” he repeated, as if he hadn’t heard her. “Help.”
Disappointment could have felled her, but my friend squared her shoulders, determined to motor on.
I was beyond proud of her. “Let’s get him to Mr. Ankh.”
With a major effort from both of us, we finally maneuvered him to his feet. As he swayed, we positioned ourselves under his arms, becoming his crutches. Had to be a comical sight, two sticks trying to balance a grade-A manimal. My legs juddered under his weight, and I’m sure Kat’s did, too.
As we lumbered forward, Gavin said, “Saw...Frosty. He came to gym...men chased us...he led them away...from me...but not before he told me...meet him...Wok and Roll.”
Kat practically bubbled over with exhilaration, and I didn’t have to wonder what she was thinking. The Wok and Roll was a twenty-four-hour Chinese buffet only a few blocks from here, and if Frosty was still there, waiting for Gavin, she could be in his arms within the next half hour.
Cole and Reeve paced beside the car. Spotting my ragtag trio, Cole rushed over and took Kat’s place. Reeve opened the back.
“Any sign of Anima on your end?” I asked.
“Not one.”
Together, we got Gavin settled inside. I straightened, stepped back and said, “Take him directly to your house, Reeve, rather than the church.” Gavin might blow an artery if he had to climb into the tunnel. “But call your dad on the way and let him know you’re coming. He’ll do something to ensure Anima isn’t nearby, watching.”
She nodded. “Done and done.”
Kat took my hand, tugged. “Ali and I are heading to the Wok and Roll. Frosty might be there, waiting for Gavin.”
“Uh, Kat.” I planted my heels. Hello tricky, sticky situation. “You’re going with Reeve.”
“What? No.” She gave a shake of her head, drawing attention to the fact that she was paler than before. “No way. No how.”
Yes way. Yes how. “You’re not objective when it comes to Frosty.” More than that, he’d had Anima on his tail. Could be with Anima right now. Not only would Mr. Ankh disapprove of me taking her into a situation far more dangerous than this one, but Frosty would also. “I need you to listen—”
“No.” She stomped her foot. “You listen. I’m going!”
O-kay. I suddenly understood why Cole was as hard-core as he was. Arguing with your allies wasted precious time. “Kat. Please. Be reasonable.”
Cole didn’t give her a chance to respond. “Two choices. You’ll do what she says.” In full commander mode, he added, “Or you’ll do what she says. Feel me?”
Her eyes narrowed to tiny slits, the patent stillness of a predator coming over her. “Oh, I feel you all right. Now you’re about to feel me.”
He flattened his good hand on the car, caging her against the metal, leaning down to get into her face. “You want to try something? Go ahead.”
Ding, ding. Round one of The Bloodbath has begun.
“Gavin could be bleeding out right this minute.” I glared at one, then the other. “We could have targets on our backs. Get in the car and go, Kat.”
Still she shook her head, stubborn to the bitter end. “I’m going after Frosty. That’s final.”
I looked to Cole. He was practically hemorrhaging determination. Hard decisions came with hard consequences—he was getting ready to make one. One of us would have to go with her, and we both knew it.
“It’s time for you to prove number seven.” That he would stand back and let me fight. “You’re injured. I’m not. I’ll be the one to find Frosty.”
I expected an argument. Instead, he gave me a clipped nod and grabbed Kat by the waist, hauling her inside the car, holding her down. She fought like, well, an alley cat, hissing, clawing, scratching, and it tore me up inside. Every fiber of my being screamed to help her, to stop this, to give her what she wanted, but I didn’t. Sometimes what we wanted wasn’t what we needed. I would apologize later, and she would have to forgive me...because Frosty would be with me.
Please, let him be with me.
I stored my .44 at my waist (safety on). As the car sped away from the curb, tires squealing, my gaze collided with Cole’s, and through the window, we experienced a moment of total understanding. He’d do whatever was necessary to protect the girls. Even at the cost of his own life.
It had better not come to that.
The second the vehicle was out of sight, I sprinted into the forest, heading toward the shopping center where the Wok and Roll was located. The activity helped loosen my regret, and I began to warm, my blood rushing faster and faster through my veins.
Eventually, gnarled trees gave way to a paved road. I went up a hill, down a hill, through another neighborhood, careful to study every passing car, before finally reaching my destination. My lungs burned. Despite the cold, beads of sweat rolled down my spine.
It was Saturday, and shoppers were out in droves. Building after building stretched on both sides of me, each peppered with stores and restaurants. Being around so many people unnerved me. Anyone could be with Anima, just waiting to strike.
Strike and die.
A bell tinkled over the door as I entered the buffet. The scent of fried meat immediately assaulted me, and I almost hurled.
Only one other customer was there. A middle-aged man who definitely wasn’t Frosty, and I highly doubted he was with Anima. He had to be one egg roll away from a heart attack.
Frustration cut at me. Enraged Kat for nothing.
No, no. Maybe Frosty had taken off, but had plans to return.
There was still hope.
A bright-eyed hostess approached me, smiling a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “How many?”
Could she be with Anima? “Just one.”
She led me to a table in the center of the room.
“In back, please.”
Shoulders stiff, she moved to the booth hidden by a huge aquarium and arched a brow, a silent is this good enough for princess?
“Perfect.” I scooted into my seat, accidentally on purpose brushing against her to feel for weapons. Nothing. “Thank you.”
Her lips compressed as she set a menu in front of me and took off.
I pulled out my phone and texted Cole. Frosty isn’t here. Gonna wait N case he comes back. Has Kat calmed down?
Cole: Kat—no. U—DON’T WAIT LIKE SWEET LITTLE TARGET, GO HOME.
Swear I heard his irritated voice reverberating through my mind. He’d let me do this, and now he regretted it. Figured.
Me: News flash, Holland. ALL CAPS DOES NOT INTIMIDATE ME.
Cole: IT SHOULD. THE WRATH OF C.H. IS NOT A PRETTY THING.
Me: Bite me.
Cole: This just in—I will. W/pleasure. But I want U 2 come back & get me. Currently there R no other cars available. BTW this is nonnegotiable.
Me: Sorry, babe, but this was an FYI exchange & not a solicitation 4 orders. U can use the time apart 2 negotiate this. (I used an emoticon to flip him off.)
Cole: So that’s a soft yes?
Good glory. I put the phone away, before he distracted me from my purpose. More than he already had.
Think! Even if Frosty had plans to come back to the Wok and Roll, he wouldn’t have gone very far. Unless he was forced. He would probably move from shop to shop, where he could watch the restaurant’s front door for Gavin without allowing anyone to get a lock on him.
But...if that was true, he would have spotted me and come racing over.
“Know what you want to order?” asked the hostess—waitress now—when she reappeared at my table.
“Hey, was there a fight in here today? Any kind of yelling match?” Any hint that my friend had been spotted?
Her brow furrowed with confusion. “No. Why?”
Rather than answer, I threw a twenty on the table. “Never mind. I’ve got to go.”
She didn’t try to stop me as I stalked outside. I leaned against the brick wall, as if taking a moment to warm myself against the cutting breeze. Really, I was scanning the shops across the way. Clothes. Clothes. Coffee. Shoes. Bakery. Cloth—
Coffee.
He could stay there longest, without drawing notice.
I rushed over and entered the warmth and deliciousness of the caffeine-scented shop. I studied the occupants, my nerves about to reach the breaking point, and—
Found him!
Joy. Such profound joy. He was in the corner, looking out the glass window. He’d hidden his pale hair under a hat. The coat he wore had to be stolen, because I’d never seen him wear it, and it wasn’t his size. It was also pink with purple flowers.
I walked to Frosty’s table, pulled out a chair.
“Get lost—” Relief eroded all hints of anger. He leaned toward me. “Thank God it’s you. Tell me everything you know. Start with information about Kat.”
“She’s alive and well and desperate to see you.”
He closed his eyes, one of which was black, and sagged against the table. “You have no idea how badly I want to see her, too, but when I searched Ankh’s place last night, she was gone.”
“There’s a secret passage that leads from Ankh’s to an underground facility,” I said. “She was staying there.”
“Was?”
“As of this morning, she’s back at Ankh’s. He’s refortified the security.”
Frosty’s hand curled into a fist. “I’ve been so worried....”
“I know,” I said, patting that fist. “Why didn’t you come to the Wok and Roll when I arrived?”
He frowned. “I didn’t see you.”
“But you were supposed to meet Gavin there.”
“No. I was supposed to meet him at the coffee shop across from the Wok and Roll.”
I’d blame Gavin’s confusion on blood loss.
“Is he okay?” Frosty asked, an edge to his tone.
He expected bad news. “He will be,” I said, determined. “Right now, he’s in pretty bad shape. Cole, too, though he’s doing much better. He was shot.” Keep it together. “They’re both with Mr. Ankh.”
“Good. That’s good.” A grim cast overshadowed his expression. “Cruz is—”
“Yeah. I know.” The sting of tears. Shut down the waterworks. Now. “Trina and Lucas, too.”
He ground his fists into his eyes. “What about the others?”
“I wish I knew. You haven’t heard or seen anything?”
“Only that Justin and Jaclyn are missing.”
Had the twins been kidnapped? Or were they dead?
Jaclyn and I weren’t the best of friends, but we were no longer enemies. I hated the thought of her out there, suffering—or worse.
“I planned to give Gavin five more minutes,” Frosty said. “Then I was going to head out and start searching for the others.”
More proof that ticking clocks sucked. Had I arrived a few minutes later, I would have missed him. “What happened last night? With you, I mean.”
Bleakly, he said, “I was at home, in bed but still awake. I heard a squeak and tried to sit up. A hard hand slapped over my mouth, and a needle jabbed into my neck. It was an instant mind-screw. I was dizzy. I was weak and compliant. The guy must have drugged my guardians, too, because he was able to get me downstairs and out the front door without their interference. Then he made the mistake of putting me in the front seat of his car. The moment the dizziness eased, I was able to force him off the side of the road, get out and head for the gym.”
“But it was already burning to the ground,” I confirmed.
“I noticed armed men chasing an injured Gavin and did my best to gain their attention. I succeeded, but it took almost two hours to lose them and another two to make it to Ankh’s. I kept passing out. Then I came here.”
So. Anima hadn’t wanted to kill Frosty. But they’d certainly wanted to kill Cole. Why?
What was their plan? Their purpose?
“Do you know where any of the others might have hidden?” Bronx. Mackenzie. Veronica. Collins.
“Bronx...maybe. I was going to check a meeting place of ours when I left here.”
“I’ll go with you. Just need to tell Cole what’s going on.”
“He micromanaging?”
“Something like that.”
I texted Cole and Kat at the same time. Found Frosty. He’s alive & well. We have lead on Bronx. More soon. & Kat...I’m sorry. I will make it up 2 U, swear!
Cole’s response came seconds later. Keep me updated.
Kat’s came a few seconds after that, and only after I’d read it did I chill. Bring my boy toy home & all will B 4given.
Oh, how I loved that girl. She wasn’t going to hold a grudge or even yell at me.
“So,” Frosty said as we stood. “I have to ask you a personal question, because our next move hinges on your answer.”
I tensed, unsure about what he could possibly want to know. “Ask.”
“How do you feel about stealing cars?”
Chapter 7 (#ulink_232846b8-962e-5b7f-a9c8-1908e10897e5)
KEEP CALM AND
CARRY A GUN
Fact: life is a giant classroom and every day is an opportunity to learn something new.
Fact: you have to be prepared for pop quizzes, because they can come from anywhere or anyone.
Also fact: I wished I’d called in sick today.
What I learned from Professor Frosty? How to properly boost cars. The guy could do wicked things with a single piece of wire.
“I’m a criminal now,” I lamented as we soared down the highway. Killing in self-defense didn’t count. “I’m an accomplice. A thief.”
“Actually,” he said smoothly, “you’re a freelance valet. All you’re doing is moving a car from one location to another. There’s nothing wrong with that, now, is there?”
I snorted, humor momentarily overcoming my reservations. “Freelance valet?”
He hiked his shoulders. “Just go with it.”
Why not? “So, how’d you learn to do it, anyway?”
“I’ll tell you, but you can’t ball like a baby. You’ll want to, because it’s tragic. Like, break your heart and—”
“I get it. No one has ever suffered like you. Go on.”
He huffed and puffed for a minute. “Does Cole know you’re made of ice?”
“Yes. He likes to melt me.”
“Anyway. It’s like this. I’ve been able to see zombies since birth. I cried all the time. After a while, my dad couldn’t take it and left. My mom was on her own and had to be the one to calm me down every time I screamed about monsters. It freaked her out, and she put me through all kinds of medical and psychiatric tests she couldn’t afford. No one could figure out what was wrong with me, and by the time she had a new boyfriend, she couldn’t take the constant stress anymore, so she gave me to my aunt and uncle. I started hanging with the wrong crowd.” He studied my face longer than necessary, considering he was behind the wheel of a car. Checking for tears?
I admit, I was tempted to offer one or two in supplication. He’d been abandoned. Forgotten. But I held them back and lifted my chin. “I’m sorry you went through that. I am. But everyone comes with baggage. Did I ever tell you about the time I lost my entire family in a car crash?”
He barked out a laugh. “You and Kat, man. You’re, like, the only girls on the planet capable of surprising me. I expect sympathy, you give me lip service. It’s kind of nice.”
A bit of a backhanded compliment, sure, but I’d take it. “So, what happened to your mom?”
His fingers tightened on the wheel, a testament to his discomfort. “She visited me a few times, and now that I can drive, I have an open invitation to visit her, but she has a new family now, so...”
Even more heartbreaking. I threw him a bone and changed the subject. “How’d you meet Cole?”
Now his lips curved into a naughty smile. “You familiar with prison rules, Ali-gator?”
Stupid nicknames. They were the equivalent of verbal fungus. You couldn’t ever get rid of them. “Somewhat. According to Kat, there’s only one. Kill now, ask questions later.”
“Actually, there are ten. But the first and most important is this—whenever you’re the new kid, flat-out annihilate the current king, and no one will ever mess with you. Well, when I moved to Cole’s district, he was the current king, so I challenged him in front of everyone. He knocked me out flat, then helped me up. We’ve been friends ever since.”
“Brothers at first punch,” I said, and he nodded.
“Something like that.”
I wondered how many other kids were out there, able to see zombies but uneducated about the truth.
My dad had been able to see zombies, though he hadn’t known what they were. As a boy, he’d watched one murder his mother. Over the years, his fear of them had only grown...and grown...until he’d later turned to alcohol and locked my little sister and me away.
But then, that’s what fear did. That’s the destructive power it wielded, and that’s why I was so determined to resist it, no matter what was going on.
Sometimes, though, my determination wavered—and it usually revolved around one person.
“Can I ask you a question?” I said.
“Isn’t that what you’ve been doing?”
Har har. “Kat’s kidney disease.”
A beat of taut silence. “Waiting for the question.”
“Is there anything we can do?”
“You think I haven’t researched? Made appointments just to talk to specialists about her?”
“And there’s nothing?”
“Nothing,” he repeated hollowly.
I peered out the window, silent. Basically, Kat’s death was just a waiting game. A ticking clock that would soon zero out.
“Let’s talk about something else,” he said, taking a corner faster than I liked. “Like the current sitch. Anima has had multiple opportunities to come after us like this, but they never have. I mean, the time they had you, Kat and Reeve locked up we wouldn’t have fought to kill, because we would have been afraid they’d hurt you girls in retaliation. So, I have to ask myself. Why now?”
Good question. “Let’s take a look at what we know. They’ve been working on ways to control the zombies, to steer the creatures to attack anyone standing in the way of their research. And they hope to use the zombie toxin to create a serum for eternal life, without consequences, and supposedly save mankind from disease and death, but in the meantime, they don’t mind experimenting on and killing innocent people.”
Frosty thought for a moment. “What if they’ve succeeded?”
“You suspect...what? That they want us out of the picture, so that there will be no one able to stop what they’re doing, because no one will know about it.”
“Exactly.”
Then the situation did not bode well for us. Because Anima would strike again. And soon, while we were injured and weakened.
I could almost hear a countdown in my head. The tick tock, tick tock I could never escape.
My hands curled into fists. Calm. Steady.
No fear, remember?
Frosty stopped in the school parking lot. Asher High. Home of the Tigers. (Go Tigers!) I frowned. There were several other vehicles there, so ours didn’t stand out. But...
“You think Bronx came here?” I asked.
“Maybe.”
Well, okay, then. That was good enough for me.
We entered the building—the doors were unlocked, saving us from committing another crime. We stuck to the shadows as we wandered down the halls. I kept a hand on the inside of my purse, my fingers curled around the hilt of one of my daggers. Just in case. No one jumped out at us and we were able to enter room 213 without incident.
But...dang it! There was no sign of Bronx. I wanted to stomp my foot.
“You contemplating throwing a hissy?” Frosty closed in on the chalkboard. “There’s no need. I was right. He’s been here.”
I looked left, right. Saw nothing. “How do you know?”
Frosty motioned to the chalkboard. “He left me a message.”
I read the words scribbled across it. Love me. Hurt me. At midnight. Party like rock stars.
O-kay. “What does it mean?”
“Take the first word of each sentence. Love hurt. At party. Meaning, Mackenzie Love is hurt and he’s got her...where?”
Crap. How bad were her injuries?
“They’re at...a party-supply warehouse? Doubtful.” He was mumbling now, clearly talking to himself, trying to reason things out. “A place we partied? More likely. But he wouldn’t have picked just any place. He would have... Someplace I’d remember... The last place? Yes, yes, yes. I know where he is!”
My heart drummed with excitement. “Then let’s go.”
* * *
We ended up in a run-down neighborhood about fifteen miles out of Birmingham. After wiping our prints, we ditched the car—maybe someone else would decide to do a little freelance valeting, moving it out of the area entirely—and hiked to the worst house of the lot.
It had peeling paint, broken shutters and cracked windows. Pieces of shingle hung from the side of the roof. The planks of wood on the porch released a death rattle as we walked to the door.
Frosty knocked. A shadow soon crept over the bottom of the door, and I knew someone was looking out the peephole.
“About time,” an unfamiliar voice said. Hinges released a high-pitched whine as the dilapidated entrance swung open. A petite brunette with a patchwork of pink scars on one side of her face moved out of the way, allowing Frosty to sail past her.
“Where are they?” he demanded.
“Back room.”
I started to follow after him, but the girl stepped into my path, blocking me. I had to look down...down...down.... She barely topped five feet. She was young, no more than fourteen. And she was spunky cute, with dark green eyes gleaming with fierce protectiveness.
“Who the hell’s your friend?” she called to Frosty. Her narrowed gaze never left me.
“That’s Ali. Let her in.”
Her features pinched with distaste. “So you’re the infamous Ali Bell, are you?”
Great. What had she been told about me? Her sneering tone suggested I was so evil, the devil had actually sold his soul to me.
I nodded. “I am. And you are?”
“Juliana, Veronica’s younger sister. What of it?” All attitude, no finesse.
My chest clenched with nearly unbearable longing to see my own little sister. Emma hadn’t visited me in weeks. Where was she?
The last time we’d spoken, she’d told me our connection was thinning and we would be seeing each other less often. I’d taken that to mean once, maybe twice, a week. I wish I’d known “less often” could actually mean “never again.” I would have hugged her harder, longer. Perhaps never let go.
“May I come in?” I asked softly.
“Whatever.” Juliana stiffly angled to the side. I entered the house and took stock.
No pictures hung on the walls. The furniture was well used, but patched and polished. There wasn’t a TV or computer, but a vase containing fresh flowers sat on the coffee table. A sweet, floral scent perfumed air that would have been musty otherwise.
I’d had no idea Veronica, my greatest frenemy, had a younger sister. Or that they were, apparently, living in abject poverty. Poverty, and yet, Bronx had felt it was safe to come here, even though it wasn’t safe to be at any other slayer’s house. So, this house must have escaped Anima’s notice. But how?
And what about the party Frosty had mentioned? It had been held here? Why? And when? Had Cole attended?
Why hadn’t I been invited?
Ugh. The last was asked in a disgusting whine. As if any of that crap mattered in the wake of such devastation.
“Where are your parents?” I asked. Voices seeped from the hall. I would give Juliana a few more minutes to invite me back, and then I was going on my own, rude or not.
“Dead,” she said in a snippy tone.
“I’m sorry.”
“Sure you are. For an encore, why don’t you ask me how I got the scars?”
Okay. “How’d you get the scars?”
She blinked in astonishment, her mouth hanging open. Clearly, she hadn’t expected me to do it. “I was burned.” Her words lashed like a whip. “Not that it’s any of your businesses.”
“Hey,” I said, palms up in a gesture of innocence, “you offered.” And wow, I suddenly felt guilty for treating Veronica so craptastically when I’d first met her. She hadn’t exactly had an easy life.
But then, like I’d told Frosty, none of us had. We were all hurting in some way.
Juliana glanced at her feet, shifted from one side to the other, then looked up at me. “Have you heard from Cole?” she asked, her tone now grudging.
“He was shot, but he’s on the mend.”
Relief she couldn’t hide; it was clear she genuinely cared for him.
Get in line.
All right, so, it was time to check on my friends. Without another word, I stalked down the hall.
“Hey! You can’t go back there.” Juliana stayed close to my heels. “This isn’t your house.”
I opened one door, found it empty save for a single twin mattress and a blanket and kept going. There was only one other room...and that’s where I found everyone. Three twin-size mattresses were propped on the floor. Mackenzie was sprawled across the one on the left, Bronx the one in the center and Veronica the one on the right.
Mackenzie was asleep. Dark curls spilled around pallid skin. Her lips were raw from being chewed, and there were several abrasions on her face. The hem of her shirt bunched over her middle, and I could see the bandage wrapped around her waist.
Bronx and Veronica were awake and alert.
He looked healthy, propped up against the wall, one hand cupping the back of his neck, the other resting at his side. His dark hair, died green at the tips, was mussed. The piercings in his eyebrow and lower lip gleamed in the light. No visible cuts or bruises.
“She was stabbed,” he said, his teeth clenched with anger. Anima should be very afraid. Of all the slayers, he was the most uncivilized, and I’d always suspected humanity had become a facade he sometimes wore. “I don’t think our attackers expected anyone to be at the gym. There were two of them, and when they broke in, we heard them. We moved to the shadows, watching, waiting. When we realized they were pouring gasoline on everything, we tackled them. She was stabbed, a match was lit and one of the guys was able to run away.”
I walked to her bed and sat at the edge, my hip touching hers. Gently I smoothed a hand down her cheek. Tremors struck me. My limbs were growing heavier by the minute. My adrenaline must be crashing. I might not have the strength to push out my spirit and light up.
“Frosty,” I said. “Can you light up?”
“Yeah. Why?”
“Because you’re going to put your fire inside Mackenzie’s wound.”
In unison, everyone in the room belted out a refusal.
“Like hell he is!”
“Are you insane? The answer is no!”
“That’s so not happening.”
“Zip it,” I said, and miracle of miracles, they obeyed. “Remember when I was sick? You guys healed me with your fire.”
“Yeah, but you were part zombie,” Bronx said. “She isn’t. The fire will help her spirit and harm everything else.”
“Not true. The two are connected. What injury one sustains, the other sustains. So why can’t the opposite be true?”
Silence.
“Look, I’ve done it to Cole. He’s even done it to himself, and he’s now on his feet. Just a little while ago, I did it to Gavin. He strengthened almost instantly.”
“Hold up.” Veronica’s tone was as hard as granite. “You’re telling us you put Cole and Gavin at risk? That you weren’t a hundred percent certain what would happen, but you did it anyway?”
In a nutshell, yes. But... “They were already at risk,” I pointed out.
Mackenzie moaned, as if the argument had disturbed whatever restful state she’d managed to achieve.
“Do it, Frosty,” I commanded.
“You ain’t his boss,” Juliana barked.
He rubbed his knuckles in the crown of the girl’s head. “Thanks for the backup, squirt, but I’ve got this one.” He strode to Mackenzie’s bed.
Juliana’s gaze threw daggers laced with hate at me.
I dismissed her, saying to Frosty, “Don’t wuss out. Do it.”
“You better be right about this,” he muttered. Out flowed his spirit, flames crackling at the end of his fingers.
He touched Mackenzie, and she gasped, clearly pained. He tensed to draw back.
“Don’t,” I said. “Don’t sever contact until she screams.”
He bared his teeth in a fierce scowl.
A moan slipped from Mackenzie...another. Her head thrashed against the pillow.
“Ali,” Frosty groaned.
“Just a little longer.”
Then Mackenzie opened her mouth and screamed. She batted at Frosty’s hand, but because he was a spirit, and she wasn’t, she couldn’t touch him. Couldn’t stop him.
He stepped back, and she sagged against the mattress. I leaned over her, looking for any change. Her color was returning, pink flooding into her cheeks, and the dark circles under her eyes were fading.
That. Quickly.
A lady never smirks.
Since when have I ever been a lady?
I smirked.
Frosty rolled his eyes. “We get it. You told us so.”
And don’t you forget it! I looked to Bronx. “Are you hurt?” Should Frosty torch him, too?
“I’ve got a few bumps,” he said, “but I’m fine.”
My gaze shifted to Veronica.
“I’m fine, too,” she said.
Her green eyes were bright with worry. Her dark hair was tangled, grass and twigs woven into the strands. Even still, she was a beautiful sight. Physically flawless—Cole’s perfect counterpart. Which was probably why they’d dated.
Yes. Cole had gotten around...and around.
“Someone clue me in,” I said. “How is this place a secret?”
Veronica ran her tongue over her teeth. “Jules and me are off grid. I don’t buy or rent anything under my own name. Only the guys here...and Cole...know where we live.” Like a guilty suspect during interrogation, she looked away from me.
Cole had known and hadn’t told me. Me, his girlfriend. His one and only.
I had no words.
No, that wasn’t actually true. I had a lot of words—for myself. I wasn’t a jealous girl. Either Cole was mine or he wasn’t. End of story. Either I trusted him or I didn’t.
But he’d broken up with me for several weeks, and he’d spent those bachelor days with Veronica. He hadn’t cheated on me, considering we’d been over, but it had certainly felt like it. Because they’d done things. Things I didn’t like to think about.
Things he now refused to do with me.
So, yeah, I kind of wanted to claw her face off and spit in her skull.
Graphic much? Straitlaced Ali piped up.
Not graphic enough, Bloodthirsty Ali quipped.
Hello, new personalities. So nice to meet you.
So, going full circle. Cole was mine. There was no question about that, and I did trust him. Totally and completely. And I knew he wasn’t interested in anyone else. Not even Veronica. But...yeah. This omission hurt.
Get over it. People are allowed to keep secrets. And it’s not like this is important right now anyway.
And there was Pragmatic Ali. I knew her well.
“I was out last night,” Veronica continued. “I’m a regular at Hearts, and I went home with... Well.” Her cheeks flushed, and she cleared her throat.
Didn’t want her little sister to know she’d left the nightclub to get a little some-some from a stranger?
“It’s okay,” Juliana said, glaring at me. As if everything wrong with the world was my fault.
I wasn’t judging, jeez.
“He tried to drug my drink,” Veronica said, her voice trembling. “He didn’t realize I’m the untrustworthy type and switched our glasses the moment his back was turned. He went down, and another guy came rushing into the room, clearly expecting me to be the one on the floor. We fought. I won. Barely. I raced home on foot and had no idea what was going on, just assumed it was a date-rape thing, until Bronx started banging on my door a few hours ago.”
Anima was smart. They knew how to track. The time she’d spent here concerned me. “I don’t think you guys are safe. You’re hard to find, yes, but not impossible. Sooner or later Anima will show up, and we all know what will happen then.”
She blanched but said, “I can take care of myself and my sister, thank you. I’ve been doing it for a long time.”
“Don’t play the pride card,” Frosty said. “You and Juliana need to be behind Mr. Ankh’s walls, and that’s that. He has cameras and a system to alert him if anyone steps foot on his property. You don’t. He also has secret passageways if there’s a problem.”
Veronica sighed. “Okay, okay. I get it. My place sucks. His doesn’t.”
Listen to him but not me. Awesome.
“I’d like to see what you could afford, Ali Bell,” Juliana snapped, marching to her sister’s bed. The two joined hands in a show of support.
Once again, my chest constricted. I’d had that kind of unity with Emma, and I missed it almost as much as I missed her.
“Cat fight later,” Bronx said. “I’m ready to go. I need to see Reeve.”
Need was far stronger than want, but I knew he wasn’t overstating. The same bond existed between Cole and me. Invisible but fierce.
“If Kat isn’t in my arms within the hour,” Frosty said, checking the safety on his gun, “I’m going to get cranky.”
First: that was a scary thought. A cranky Frosty was a murderous Frosty.
Second: if we were going to stay together, we’d need an SUV.
Fabulous. “Looks like we’re all about to become freelance valets.”
Chapter 8 (#ulink_bd743838-3483-59bb-bd24-57a1457f4e53)
BONKERS TODAY,
BONKERS TOMORROW
On the drive to Mr. Ankh’s, I texted Cole to let him know Mackenzie was in need of medical help.
His response took a while, but it did come. Ankh says he’ll B ready.
I also texted Kat and Reeve to let them know their men were on the way and good to go. Close to thirty replies came in.
The highlights?
Kat: Cake! CRAZMAZING! Knew U could do it, Ali me girl!
Kat: WAIT. I know U said he’s good 2 go, but does he still have all his parts? I need 2 know if I can knee his man junk. HE MADE ME WORRY ABOUT HIS WELL-BEING!
Reeve: Is Bronx speaking, or has he gone silent? Tell me! Please! I have 2 know which side of him I’ll B dealing w/ so I’ll know which Reeve 2 let greet him—the lover or the he-woman street fighter (yes, I fight. Sue me!).
Kat: Would now B a horrible time 2 break up w/him? Who cares! I’m gonna do it. Causing a girlfriend untold worry is a crime punishable by death!
Kat: BTW how many people did he have 2 kill 2 survive? & is that why U left me behind (& almost earned an alley kat experience U would never 4get)? B honest. U didn’t want me 2 C the bodies, did U?
Reeve: WHY AREN’T U HERE??? I’ll street fight YOU if U don’t hurry.
Kat: Is it bad that I’m turned on right now?
When we got there, it was no surprise to see Mr. Ankh, Reeve and Kat waiting on the front porch. Kat should have been flushed, considering her excitement, but she was still pale. I didn’t like that. And where was Cole?
Unfortunately, the couples weren’t given a chance to hug and kiss—and whatever else. Mr. Ankh began barking orders the moment the car doors opened, demanding Frosty carry Mackenzie to the room next to Gavin’s and that Bronx clear the way. The girls could only walk next to their boys, talking a mile a minute.
“—get a reward for surviving,” Kat was saying. “You can start by taking off all your clothes and—”
“I don’t need to hear this, Miss Parker,” Mr. Ankh snapped.
“—showering,” she finished. “Alone. Of course. I like my men clean.”
“How’s Gavin doing?” I asked, trailing behind.
“Far better than I anticipated.” Mr. Ankh stopped, forcing me to do the same. He glanced over his shoulder. “He’ll survive.”
Relief poured through me, sweet and welcome.
“Two boys. Two wounds. Two miracle recoveries. Any clue how that’s happening?” he asked, catching me off guard.
“Slayer fire,” I admitted.
His eyes glazed for a moment, his medical mind probably assessing the pros and cons. Then he leaped forward to catch up with Frosty and Bronx. I took a step, intending to follow, but Kat came flying out the door. She propelled into me, wrapping her arms around me. Her grip was weaker than usual.
“Thank you, Ali. Thank you, thank you, thank you.”
I hugged her back, tears burning my eyes. “I’m so, so sorry, Mad Dog. I know I apologized over text and you said all was forgiven, but I had to say it in person. I couldn’t take the chance that we’d find him and he’d be injured, and you’d freak, and I’d have to try and cart both of you—”
“I know. Cole explained on the way home.” She pulled back and gave me a watery smile. “Besides, you brought him back, and that’s all that matters.”
With that, she was gone, chasing after her man.
“Have Mr. Ankh check you out,” I called, trudging forward. Prickles on the back of my neck stopped me. Something was going on around me, and my spirit sensed it. My mind just hadn’t caught up yet.
Trying to act nonchalant, I spun slowly, eyeing the grounds. Big, thick bushes circled the edge of the property, hiding the residents from prying eyes. There was no—
There! A fall of wheat-colored hair surrounded a pale face. For a second, only a second, light blue eyes met mine, before the woman—somehow familiar, though I was certain I’d never met her—turned away from me and disappeared in the foliage.
Palming a dagger, I rushed after her. Who was she? Why was she here? To spy for Anima?
Surely not. There was no way she could have gotten past Mr. Ankh’s security. Right? So, Mr. Ankh had to know she was here. Right?
Just before I reached the spot where I’d first seen her, I ground to a halt. What if he didn’t know? What if this was some kind of ambush? I focused on the sounds around me. There was a whistle of wind. In the distance, a car’s engine purred and a dog barked. No voices. No snapping limbs. No shuffling footsteps.
Like every girl in every horror movie ever made—a specialty of mine—I did not turn back. I inched forward, quietly working my way through the branches and leaves.... I found her standing a few yards away, next to one of the tallest trees on the property. Waiting for me. Though it was freezing out, she wore a black tank top, no coat, and seemed unfazed by the cold. At least her legs were covered by camo pants and her feet with combat boots.
“Who are you?” I asked, letting her see the knife.
“Samantha,” she said, and there was so much longing radiating from her, my heart actually shuddered. “Sami.”
“Sami.” An odd throb started up in my chest. “That’s your name?”
“No. Not mine.” She offered me a sad smile, and her identity instantly crystallized. The woman from my dream. The one with the little girl.
The two were real.
Part of my family?
Surely. Those eyes...
“Who is Sami? Who are you?” I repeated more sharply.
“I have a gift for you,” she said, holding out her hand.
Accepting the gift, whatever it was, would be stupid. I didn’t know her, not really, and I certainly didn’t trust her. But that didn’t stop me from closing the distance. What can I say? Curiosity owned me.
“Make an aggressive move,” I said, “and I will gut you. I won’t think twice about it.”
Her gaze met mine—the longing and sadness so much stronger now. Breaking my heart. But there was also...pride. Why?
I found myself asking, “What’s the gift? And are you related to Phillip Bell?” My dad. Did I want her to be? “What about Miranda Bradley?”
“Time is short, and the gift is necessary.” She waved me even closer. “It will help you defeat your enemy.”
True or false?
Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.
Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».
Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию (https://www.litres.ru/gena-showalter/the-queen-of-zombie-hearts/) на ЛитРес.
Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.
Gena Showalter
BOOK 3 OF THE WHITE RABBIT CHRONICLESAlice Bell thinks the worst is behind her. She’s fought zombies and won. Now she’s ready for a peaceful life with boyfriend Cole, the leader of the zombie slayers… until the dangerous agency controlling the undead launches an attack with devastating consequences.Humans can be more dangerous than monsters… and the worst has only just begun.They’ve started a war. Alice is determined to end it.
I have a plan.
We’ll either destroy them for good, or they’ll destroy us.
Either way, only one of us is walking away.
In the stunning conclusion to the wildly popular White Rabbit Chronicles, Alice “Ali” Bell thinks the worst is behind her. She’s ready to take the next step with boyfriend Cole Holland, the leader of the zombie slayers…until Anima Industries, the agency controlling the zombies, launches a sneak attack, killing four of her friends. It’s then she realizes that humans can be more dangerous than monsters…and the worst has only begun.
As the surviving slayers prepare for war, Ali discovers she, too, can control the zombies…and she isn’t the girl she thought she was. She’s connected to the woman responsible for killing—and turning—Cole’s mother. How can their relationship endure? As secrets come to light, and more slayers are taken or killed, Ali will fight harder than ever to bring down Anima—even sacrificing her own life for those she loves.
Praise for Gena Showalter
‘Put me down as a fan of Gena Showalter. I love her writing style and the attitude she gave Alice completely entertained me. There was never a dull moment and I loved every moment of Alice in Zombieland. I am so pleased that it lived up to my expectations.’
—Book Chick City
‘Readers will love the brave girl trying to reclaim her life…’
—RT Book Reviews
‘…a zippy story with crossover appeal that highlights the power of guilt, faith and self-confidence’
—Publishers Weekly
‘Showalter has created a promising playground for future story instalments.’
—Kirkus Reviews
‘…the novel was original, highly addictive and entertaining. Showalter is beyond good at what she does and I highly recommend reading other books she has penned.’
—Parajunkee's View
GENA SHOWALTER
is a New York Times and USA TODAY bestselling author whose teen novels have been praised as ‘unputdownable.’ Growing up, she always had her nose buried in a book. When it came time to buckle down and get a job, she knew writing was it for her. Gena lives in Oklahoma with her family and two slobbery English bulldogs. Become a fan on Facebook and visit her new White Rabbit Chronicles website at www.wrchronicles.com (http://www.wrchronicles.com).
www.miraink.co.uk (http://www.miraink.co.uk)
To Mom and Dad. Just because.
Contents
Cover (#u29ebb40c-8e59-59dc-9447-574f1e6cfda7)
Back Cover Text (#ua90b9d39-b955-55a7-9f78-1480de5fe2af)
Praise for Gena Showalter (#ub06fc548-fc71-518a-a1b1-49eb60a464bb)
About the Author (#ub33dcf85-4c5f-5c19-b210-f3bc9201706d)
Title Page (#u28aa1fce-82d1-5e8d-8775-a6f70e81f223)
Dedication (#u640024a5-c23a-51cd-9f07-4e06acc22eca)
Epigraph (#u34b203f0-51fc-5afb-94b3-b1e42bc38143)
A NOTE FROM ALI (#ulink_9b5c4725-303c-50f4-beb4-22d0cf27eeb1)
Chapter 1 (#ulink_b0d08816-3730-5a93-a284-ed9f94284bae)
Chapter 2 (#ulink_14e27541-4fd6-53e8-8c19-8bfbd9a4b6b3)
Chapter 3 (#ulink_7653f608-ee22-5e3f-b4e8-58e7eed7683a)
Chapter 4 (#ulink_e78390f2-1cea-5709-b826-be4fbe7c9723)
Chapter 5 (#ulink_ea3b0218-3ff3-5aeb-a4fe-57505bc94b4b)
Chapter 6 (#ulink_ea14cb1c-7c4d-5baa-a899-0043bba0710c)
Chapter 7 (#ulink_60b665a1-6aff-5925-bc63-475ca946947d)
Chapter 8 (#ulink_cbd27978-0458-5dc7-96b8-d902ebd17dfc)
Chapter 9 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 10 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 11 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 12 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 13 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 14 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 15 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 16 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 17 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 18 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 19 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 20 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 21 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 22 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 23 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 24 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 25 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 26 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 27 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 28 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 29 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 30 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 31 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 32 (#litres_trial_promo)
A NOTE FROM COLE (#litres_trial_promo)
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS (#litres_trial_promo)
BONUS SCENE A NOTE FROM GENA (#litres_trial_promo)
Cole (#litres_trial_promo)
Extract (#litres_trial_promo)
Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)
ROSES ARE RED
VIOLETS ARE BLUE
BE VERY AFRAID
WE’RE COMING FOR YOU.
A NOTE FROM ALI (#ulink_b5c496dc-08c6-5682-8611-299df64aad1e)
Are you ready for this?
The romance and sizzle...the betrayal...loss...pain...
The end?
I thought I was. I had begun comparing myself to a coin, with life on one side and death on the other. I’d felt as though I’d been tossed in the air, only to tumble down fast and hard. Which side I landed on would be totally up to fate. But I’ve learned not everything that happens is meant to be.
Think about it. The fact that I ate a bagel with cream cheese for breakfast—not fate but hunger.
The fact that I lost my mother, father and beloved little sister in a car crash—not fate but panic.
The fact that four of my friends were gunned down in one night and two others were killed soon after—NOT FATE! Evil.
Fate and meant to be come down to one thing. The tool we’ve been given to shape our destinies. Choice. Mine...yours...theirs. Good, bad. Ugly.
Here’s mine: Months ago, I decided to join a crew of slayers and spend my nights fighting zombies.
Yes. Zombies.
These vile creatures live among us, invisible to the ungifted eye. They emerge at nightfall, hungry for human spirits, the essence of life. They feast, and they poison, and if ever you’re bitten, your spirit will rise, starved and ready to devour.
I considered zombies the worst enemy ever to walk the earth.
I was wrong.
Humans can be more dangerous than monsters.
There’s a company out there. Anima Industries. They control zombies, and they’ve decided slayers are a problem with only one solution: extermination.
Now, slayers have a choice. Go underground...or go to war. In other words, hide our coins or toss them ourselves.
We’ve lost so much already, and there are so few of us left. The smart thing to do is pack up and hide. Live to fight another day.
Screw smart.
We’re tossing. One way or another, we will destroy Anima for good—or they will destroy us. But this time, only one group is walking away.
Our choice is made.
Ready or not, here we come.
See you on the other side,
Ali Bell
Chapter 1 (#ulink_68c2b37f-a8d9-5da5-9aa1-b8d0c29b25c2)
UP IS DOWN AND
DOWN IS UP
“Dude. How about that one?” My best friend, Kat Parker, pointed toward the far corner, to a table occupied by three boys about our age.
One guy was hot enough to melt a polar vortex. One wasn’t handsome in the traditional sense, but with his unusual chartreuse eyes, it hardly mattered. The third was amazingly rugged, with a fresh scrape on his cheek and scars on his knuckles.
Well, well. We had finally found a smorgasbord of different flavored man-meat.
“Perfect,” I said with a nod.
“I don’t know.” Reeve Ankh, my other friend, surveyed the boys and chewed on her bottom lip. “I’m getting danger vibes from the one on the right.”
The one on the right—Knuckle Scars. Excellent. Her dandar—danger radar—was working at optimal levels.
In our little trio, she’d always been the voice of reason. Or, as Kat would say, “the voice of shut up and live a little.”
My darling Kat meant it in the nicest way possible, of course. She simply had no filter. She always spoke her mind, always stood up for what she believed—that her way was the best way—and lived by the motto I’m On Board the Awesome Train and You Can Hop On or Get Run Over.
Was it any wonder I loved her so much?
“This is stupid, you guys.”
The grumble came from Mackenzie Love. Once my archenemy, now one of my favorite pet projects.
Most people were surprised by our sudden friendship, but I’d learned life could change in the blink of an eye.
Everything could change in the blink of an eye.
I accepted, and I rolled.
“Suck it up.” Trina Brighton, the last member of our group, kicked Mackenzie under the table. “This was your idea.”
“That’s right. You asked for our help, and we agreed to give it to you on one condition. That you do what we say, when we say.” Grinning her happy-kitten grin, Kat rubbed her hands together. While I had grown to like Mackenzie, she hadn’t. But she had softened...ish. “This is gonna be fun. For me!”
Hated to admit it, but...yeah, it was gonna be fun for me, too.
We were at Choco Loco, a chocolate bar where girls picked up treats and boys picked up girls. Not that I wanted to be picked up.
I’d been going out with the drool-worthy Cole Holland—officially...again—for a little over a month. And, okay, yeah, there was a slight problem with our relationship. In the course of that month, we’d been on...give me a second to count them—zero dates. We’d had a total of...let’s see, let’s see—zero minutes alone. And we’d kissed...oh, I don’t know—zero times.
Here are things that suck worse: _____________________.
Okay, fine. There are a few things that suck worse. Like the time I was an all-you-can-eat dinner buffet for zombies. The time I battled the worst Z-poisoning in the history of ever. And my personal favorite, the time Anima Industries locked me away, electrocuted me, starved me and studied me like a freaking zoo animal.
Considering all I’d been through, my love life should have been a sparkling diamond in a sea of coal. Or a sea of “Cole.” Har har. We had tried to get together, like, plan-everything-down-to-the-last-second tried, but each of our sneak-overs had encountered one teensy-weensy problem.
Her name: Nana.
Seriously, my grandmother had morphed into the Make-Out Police, and okay, okay, I didn’t really have to rack my brain to figure out why. One night Cole had saved me from a very painful death, and we’d decided to celebrate. Alone. He’d stolen into my bedroom, and we’d done what we always did. (I refuse to provide the down-and-dirty deets. But it was. Down and dirty. Anyway.) She’d heard us—the horror!—and had busted in.
We’d still had (most of) our clothes on, but yowza, the position she’d caught us in...
Ever since, Nana has been attached to my side. In fact, the only time she detaches is when I’m hanging with my girls, or when I’m prowling the streets, hunting zombies.
Don’t get me wrong. I love Nana to pieces. And so does Cole. When the three of us get together, we actually have fun. But I want more. I need more. I’m addicted to Cole’s hands...and his mouth...and oh, Ali-want, his nipple ring. Withdrawals stink!
“What are you waiting for, love buns?” Kat banged her hand on the table. “Did I not make it clear that you don’t get a vote in this? That the tribe has spoken? You know what you gotta do, so, do it.”
A waiter stepped up to our table before Mackenzie could respond. He set a mousse shooter in front of each of us.
“Um.” Reeve frowned. “We didn’t order these.”
“Compliments of the hounds in the corner.” A wink, and the waiter was off.
In unison, my friends and I gazed at our chocolate-addiction enablers. Hot and Chartreuse lifted their own mousse shooters in a toast. Knuckle Scars just stared.
Reminded me of Cole.
Kat stood and called, “My friend MacLovin’ will come over and thank you in person just as soon as her heartbeat settles. You totally rocked her—”
Mackenzie tugged on her arm, both returning her to her seat and silencing her. “Do you have to be so humiliating?”
As the toasters high-fived, Kat slapped Mackenzie on the shoulder. “What are you complaining about? We came here to find you a date, and now, thanks to me, it’s practically mission accomplished. I’ve set the stage, so all you have to do is walk over there and pick your favorite boy toy. You’re welcome.”
Mackenzie leaned over and bashed her forehead against the table.
“Why are you acting like such a baby?” Kat gave her another slap. “You’re, like, some kind of super ninja warrior who spends her nights catching butterflies and—”
“Good glory,” I said. “Stop calling it that.”
“Seriously.” Mackenzie stopped bashing and looked up. “You make us sound like—” she shuddered “—girls.”
Though Kat and Reeve were civilians, not slayers, they knew about the dark, secret world in operation around them. And Kat, well, she now liked to refer to slaying zombies as catching butterflies. She was sweet like that.
“I’m fine with calling it catching butterflies,” Trina said.
Kat smirked.
Mackenzie gaped at Trina.
“What?” Trina shrugged. “I’m confident in my masculinity.”
I snorted. Trina might look like she could lift a bus, but her heart was as soft as marshmallows.
“You should talk to the boys and get it over with, Mac.” Reeve ran her finger over the rim of her shooter and licked away the chocolate. “Kat looks ready to drag you over there.”
“True story,” Kat said with a nod. “Just seconds away.”
“If she does,” Reeve continued, “the last five minutes will become your happy place.”
“Fine.” A scowling Mackenzie pushed to her feet. “But I’m not going to try to charm them.”
“As if you could,” Kat said, and Mackenzie’s scowl darkened.
“You’ve got this in the bag.” I truly believed that. Mac wouldn’t have to use charm. Not with a face like hers.
All of my friends had model-perfect faces. And yet, each was so different.
Kat, with her straight dark hair and hazel eyes, was girl-next-door lovely. Reeve, with her brown waves and doe eyes, was traffic-stopping stunning. Mackenzie, with her black curls and emerald eyes, was child-of-an-angel exquisite. And Trina, with her short spikes and black-rimmed eyes, was punk-rocker cool. I was the oddball, with pale hair and eyes so blue they were freaky.
As Mackenzie trudged closer to the boys, a shadow fell over our table.
Kat squealed with delight and threw herself into the arms of the culprit.
No need to glance over to figure out who had just arrived. Frosty, her on-again, off-again boyfriend.
They had a weird relationship, because even when they were off, they were on. Like, all-over-each-other on. I’d never seen two people more bat-crap crazy for each other.
She peppered his face with kisses. “You came!”
“And you look amazing.”
“Obviously.”
Ha! Such a perfect, confident response. Such a Kat response. I’d have to remember it the next time Cole complimented me.
“I couldn’t stay away.” Frosty combed his fingers through Kat’s hair. “I believe your last text said, and I quote, ‘If you aren’t here within the next ten minutes, I will probably forget all about you and fall in love with someone else.’”
My girl had such a poetic way with words.
Lucas, as attractive as ever in a polo with the sleeves rolled up to display his dark arms to perfection, stepped out from behind Frosty. He nodded at Trina, peering at her for several seconds beyond polite. A lance of awareness arced between them. Well, well. I’d suspected they were secretly seeing each other, and this just cinched it. Good. They deserved a steamy dose of happiness.
Kat wrapped her fingers around Frosty’s wrist and pulled him closer. “I’ve always believed open lines of communication are the key to making any relationship work. That, and presents. Do you have one for me?”
“Me, too!” Reeve waved her hands expectantly. “Gimme.”
Frosty ignored her. As usual, he cared only about his girl. “Shouldn’t my exalted presence be present enough? I ditched Cole and Bronx and broke speed records to come snap the spine of anyone who’s made a play for you. And since that’s surely everyone breathing, I just need you to tell me where you’d like me to start.”
My ears perked at the mention of Cole. “Where’d you leave him?”
Of course, Frosty ignored me, too.
“Tatty’s Ink,” Lucas said. “Bronx is getting Reeve’s name inked into his arm. Which, I just remembered, is supposed to be a surprise.”
Reeve cooed happily, thrilled with her boyfriend’s unexpected gift.
I’d decided to get two new tattoos myself, so...why not drive over there now? Cole could hold my hand through the process, and afterward, he’d realize there had never been a more perfect chance for Nana-free time. Two birds, one delectable stone. Afterward, we could...do things. I shivered with anticipation.
Knowing it would have been criminal to leave a single drop of my mousse shooter behind, I downed it and licked the rim, then licked again just to be safe. I knew I wasn’t overhyping the dessert when I muttered, “This is the best thing in the entire world.”
“Agreed,” Reeve said.
Finally, I made the brave decision to step between Frosty and Kat.
Yes, other people had been donkey-punched in the throat for doing such a thing, but I was willing to risk it. I needed my best friend’s full attention.
“I’m leaving, and I’m taking Mackenzie with me.” Love bug was my ride. “You’re not going to have as much fun without me, but I hope you’re willing to make the sacrifice.”
Kat pursed her lips. “What about this most special of occasions? Girls’ day out.”
Honestly? “It crashed and burned the second Frosty and Lucas showed up.”
“Hey,” Frosty said behind me. “I only crash and burn the people who say I crash and burn things.”
“True story.” Kat blinked up at me. “But that aside, let’s cut through the crap and focus on what you’re really saying. I have to choose between him and you.”
If it would save me from having to argue about leaving? “Yes.”
“Oh. Well, then. I choose you,” she said with a sunny smile. “Of course.”
Should have seen that coming. As much as she loved Frosty, she loved me. Maybe more. We were sisters of the heart rather than blood, and (almost) always put each other’s needs above everyone else’s.
“Get lost, Frosty.” She made shooing motions over my shoulder. “You can remind me of my affection for you later.”
“But, kitten,” he said, his tone beseeching. And it was funny, hearing one of the biggest, baddest Z-killers in Birmingham, Alabama, reduced to begging, all because a tiny fluff of nothing had decided not to play with him. “I have a fever, and the only prescription...is more cow-kat.”
Kat narrowed her eyes at him. “Cow-kat?”
“Dude,” Lucas muttered. “Do you want to lose a testicle?”
“Okay,” Frosty said, “I’m man enough to admit that might have come out wrong.”
I gripped Kat by the shoulders. “You don’t have to worry about hurting my feelings. I’m foaming-at-the-mouth eager to see Cole.”
“You planning to make out with him?”
“Yes,” I admitted, even as my cheeks heated.
“That’s so cake. And you’ll give me every detail?”
Wait. “Cake?”
“My new favorite word, meaning so totally beyond amazeballs.”
Well, okay, then. Soon, it would be the world’s favorite. “If you insist, I’ll give you a play-by-play.” I knew she would.
She thought for a moment, sighed. “Fine. Go. We’ll reschedule.”
“Really?”
“What can I say? I’m a giver.”
“Thank you, thank you, a thousand times thank you.” I kissed her cheek and raced to Mackenzie’s side.
“—must be a light switch, because every time I look at you, I’m turned on,” Chartreuse was saying.
No. Just no. Pickup lines were never okay. “We’ve gotta go,” I told her.
Chartreuse frowned. “But she just got here.”
Relief radiated from Mackenzie. “Sorry, boys. It’s been... Yeah.” She said no more as she tugged me toward the door.
“Hey!” Reeve called. “No one said ’bye to me.”
I waved, saying, “’Bye. We love you!” over my shoulder.
She blew me a kiss.
Trina laughed at something Lucas said, unconcerned by our departure.
Mackenzie and I stepped into the wintry afternoon. The sun was shining but the air was chilled. Shoppers wove in and out of nearby boutiques, each lost in their own little worlds.
“Thank you,” Mackenzie said with a shudder. “The only guy I had any interest in never spoke a word to me.”
“Let me guess. Mr. Knuckle Scars.”
“Yeah. How’d you know?”
“We have similar taste.” Proof: we’d both dated Cole. “He would have been my choice, too.” And not just for his rugged appeal.
Every slayer in the war against Z’s had lost loved ones to bites and battle wounds, and the sorrow and grief tended to build barriers around our hearts. More and more, it became clear that the strong had a better chance of survival; Knuckle Scars had definitely been the strongest of the bunch.
Shockingly enough, Frosty—who had lost more than most—was the exception to my theory. He’d fallen for Kat despite her kidney disease. But I wasn’t going to think about her illness and the pain she was—and would be—forced to endure. I’d break down and be forced to compartmentalize, shoving the heartbreak into a deep, dark corner of my mind, to be dealt with later.
My compartments were almost full.
I’d told myself I’d stop doing it, stop locking away the hard emotional crap and finally deal with my feelings, but I’d fallen back into the habit...and honestly, I wasn’t in any hurry to change.
“Where are we going?” Mackenzie settled behind the wheel of her truck. “It’s too early for patrol.”
Oh, yeah. We had to patrol for zombies this evening. We’d be with Gavin the man-whore—another one of my pet projects, despite his warped sense of humor—and the mostly silent Bronx. Time was limited.
“We’re going to Tatty’s,” I said and explained why.
“I’d advise you to play a little hard to get, but I swear, it doesn’t matter what you do. Cole thinks it’s the most adorable thing ever. It makes me want to stab you both in the eye.”
A few weeks ago, she would have spat those words at me like weapons. Because the moment Cole had displayed an interest in me—which had been at moment one, thank you very much—she’d hated me.
My sparkling personality had eventually won her over.
Fine. Personality had nothing to do with it. We were soldiers in a war, and we were fighting for the same side. A bond had formed.
“If you stab us both in the eye, we will wear matching patches and pretend to be pirates,” I said. “You’ll wish you’d stabbed yourself instead.”
She shuddered. “You still have an evil side, I see.”
“Yes, and your tears are the food she craves.”
Mackenzie almost cracked a smile.
I scanned the parking lot when we reached our destination, fighting disappointment when I couldn’t locate Cole’s Jeep.
Maybe he’d walked? You know, for exercise. As if he didn’t get enough at his gym, running the treadmill, lifting weights and boxing in the ring. But he wasn’t inside, and my disappointment intensified.
I could call or text him, I supposed, but this wasn’t just girls’ day out. It was boys’ day out, too. He could still be with Gavin, Bronx and new-to-the-team Justin. Well, new again. Long story.
“Do you have a few hours to spare?” I asked Mackenzie.
“Is my other choice heading back to Choco Loco?”
“Yes.”
“Then I do.”
I headed to the back of the shop with Artist Guy, the man who’d done my other tattoos. There were two, one on each wrist; the reason he already had my permission slip on file. The first one he’d given me was the white rabbit to represent my sister, Emma. She might be dead, but she still came to visit me. The second, a pair of swords in the shape of a cross to represent my parents.
“Tell me what you want,” he said as I settled into the seat.
I’d thought about this for quite some time. Everything we felt always found a way to manifest outwardly. Smiles, frowns. Laugh lines. Scowl lines. This was my way of showing my love for the family and friends I’d lost.
“To start, I want a phoenix on the back of my neck.” This would represent Cole. I hadn’t lost him—and wouldn’t!—but he still deserved a place of honor. With his help, I’d risen from the ashes of my past and forged a new future. “Then I want a pair of boxing gloves above the daggers.” They would represent Pops, my grandfather, who’d been killed by zombie toxin. As a teenager, he’d trained in the ring, and throughout the rest of his life, he’d taken hard knocks with grace and bravery.
Artist Guy got to work, and though I’d done this before and had known what to expect, it still hurt. Bad. By the time he finished, my neck and arm throbbed incessantly.
“Well? What do you think?” he asked.
I studied the boxing gloves and smiled. They looked like they were made of tattered brown leather, with a bowed string holding them together. “Perfection.”
“As if I could do anything less.”
Men and their egos.
I approached the full-length mirror hanging on the wall. Hand trembling, I lifted my hair and turned to the side while glancing over my shoulder. My breath hitched. The bird’s head was light green and came up to my hairline. The wings were a rainbow of colors, each crackling with golden flames, wrapping around both sides of my neck, stretching toward my ears. The belly was a mix of red and gold and centered on the ridges of my spine, while the tail was shaped and shaded like peacock feathers, stopping between my shoulder blades.
“It’s...it’s...” I gasped. “I don’t even have words.”
“I know,” he replied. “I’m amazing. It’s the best work you’ve ever seen. Blah, blah.”
Cole was going to flip out.
“You remember how to prevent infection?” he asked.
“Yes.” I paid him and joined Mackenzie in the lobby. Her reaction to the ink was similar to mine. Total shock and awe.
“As much as I’d love to stay and stare, we’d better go.” She gestured to the outside world. “Darkness is rolling in.”
I glanced out the window, and sure enough, the sunlight was muted. Well, crap. Night came earlier and earlier. We hardly had time for rest and relaxation anymore.
When had we ever?
But we were trying. All slayers—including our mascots, Reeve and Kat—had recently enrolled in a home-study program, leaving the classroom behind. With our schedules, we’d been missing class or, when we had shown up, falling asleep. Our grades had been slipping. Now we had a little control.
Out of habit, I searched the sky for a rabbit-shaped cloud. Anytime my sister noticed zombies stirring in their nests, preparing to brave the wild and hunt a meal, she created one just for me. Right now, there wasn’t one. Good.
Tonight I would go through one neighborhood after another, searching for Z’s, protecting homes. If all went well—and that’s how it was looking—I’d finish around 3:00 a.m. Boys’ day out would be officially over.
“Let’s go,” I said.
We piled into Mackenzie’s truck and headed to the gym, where we would begin. Along the way, I texted Cole.
U’ll B home 2nite, yeah?
His response came lightning-fast. Yeah. U got plans 4 me?
Me: If there aren’t any Z’s 2 fight, guess I’ll have 2 settle 4 getting my hands on U.
Cole: Settle away. I’ll B w8ing.
Me: BTW, I have surprise 4 U.
Cole: Naked surprise?
Me: Better.
Cole: Nothing better.
Me: Prepare to have UR mind blown!
Me: I MEAN CHANGED. CHANGED.
Cole: Hahaha. I prefer blown. & right back at ya, babe.
I stored my phone away.
“You’re practically glowing with happiness.” Mackenzie pretended to gag. “Tell me you’re still capable of killing zombies and that you’re not considering spraying them with rainbow dust.”
As if I’d waste rainbow dust on zombies. “Don’t you worry about me, love bug. You want to know why there’s no sign of life on Mars? Because I’ve been there.”
She tried to hide her grin. “If you tell me Death once had a near–Ali Bell experience, I think I’ll risk a little pirate role-playing and just go ahead and stab your eye.”
“Why would you want to eye-gouge the girl who’s counted to infinity—twice? The girl who can win a game of Connect Four in only three moves? The girl who can start a fire by rubbing two ice cubes together?”
“Definitely going to eye-gouge you,” she muttered.
I laughed. “All’s I’m saying is that I’m ready for tonight...no matter what happens.”
Chapter 2 (#ulink_b7bce55a-cf9e-5a6f-a9cb-5745e93d2ad0)
BY THE SKIN AND THE TEETH
It was 3:04 a.m., and, as expected, there was no sign of zombies. I was now off duty, but not expected home until 7:00 a.m.
Life couldn’t get any more perfect.
Oh, wait. It could. Mackenzie and Bronx lived with Cole and his dad, Mr. Tyler Holland, and they’d decided to spend the rest of the night at the gym. I hadn’t said a word about my plans with Cole, but my ear-to-ear smile might have given me away.
Gavin offered to take me home. Ever the gentleman, he opened the passenger side of his car for me.
“I’ve got people to do and things to see.” He motioned me inside. “Hop to, cupcake.”
“Thank you.”
“Don’t get used to it.”
He meant that with every fiber of his being. Shouldn’t laugh. I adored the guy, but I wasn’t blind to all of his faults.
One of my faults: I found every one of his charming.
He settled behind the wheel and gunned the engine, the ice on the window melting. He eased onto the road and said, “So, when do you get your license?”
“Next week.” There’d been a time I’d wanted to vomit blood at even the thought of controlling the metal death trap known as car, but battling an evil zombie-twin version of myself—don’t ask—kind of put things in perspective. “Why? Are you tired of chauffeuring me around?”
“Nope. Just want to make sure I move to another state in time. You’re a tragic accident waiting to happen.” He cursed. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to go there.”
“Don’t worry about it. We both know I make the geriatric crowd look like NASCAR champions.” I had a love/hate relationship with speed. I loved slow and hated fast.
“Exactly my point,” Gavin said. “There’s such a thing as road rage, and I has it.”
“You has a whole lot of other things, too,” I muttered.
“True, and they’re all awesome.”
I rolled my eyes. “By the way, you’re not taking me home. You’re taking me to Cole’s.” At least, I hoped. I texted him, praying he hadn’t fallen asleep.
No Z’s, I typed. U ready 4 me?
His reply came within seconds. Ready? Ali-gator, U have no idea. Hope UR in the mood 2 play Hungry Zombie & Helpless Human, because I want a nibble. How soon can U get here?
Me, my heart fluttering with excitement: 10 minutes.
Cole: Make it 5.
Me, my heart fluttering a thousand times faster: Done!
Cole: Bro and Mac w/U?
Me: Nope. They love us enough 2 give us nite 2 ourselves.
Cole: Perfect. I’ll turn off alarm & unlock my window.
Gavin winked at me. “So tonight’s the night, huh? Finally gonna get that cherry popped.”
No way. There was just no way he’d gone there. “You are such a pig.”
“Pigs are cute.”
“And filthy.”
“The perfect combination.”
It was impossible to insult someone who never took offense. “Look, I’m not going to discuss my sex life—or lack of one—with you, of all people.”
Undeterred, he said, “Unless you break your neck on the way in, you’re diving into that boy’s bed the second you get there, and we both know it.”
Good glory. He and Nana were a tag team, and I wasn’t sure which one had the better right cross.
“So...you want any tips for taking things from ordinary to extraordinary?” he asked. “I’m something of a sex-pert.”
“Actually, you’re something of a slut-pert.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. That’s not even a word.”
I couldn’t judo-chop his airway. He would lose control of the car and crash. “Why don’t I just cut off my ears and give them to you?” I muttered to myself. “It would hurt less than this conversation.”
“Fine. Be that way. Fumble around in the dark. See if I care.”
“You totally shouldn’t care!”
“Well, I do. You’re my cupcake. I happen to think you deserve to be frosted just—”
“Don’t you dare finish that sentence or I swear I’ll start a douche-bag jar and make you put a fiver in it.”
He grinned at me. “It’d be a douche-purse jar, and you know it.”
Never going to live that down. Nana and her “teen-speak” would haunt me for the rest of my life. “Why don’t you tell me all about your first time, hmm? Was it special? Did you cover your bed in rose petals?”
“It was the most specialest,” he answered, deadpan. “And yes.”
I rolled my eyes again. I rarely left his presence without giving him five good ones. “Whatever. This subject is closed, Barbie, so you can shut it now or lose your tongue.”
He didn’t shut it. Of course. “Barbie? That’s the nickname you pick for me?”
“Hate it?” I asked with a smirk. A girl could only hear “cupcake” so many times before she had to strike back.
“Absolutely love it. I’ve always suspected you want to take me out and play with me.”
See! Impossible!
“Anyway,” he continued, “how are you going to seduce Cole Has All the Luck Holland?”
I snorted. “Are you serious? Like a girl really needs to do anything more than breathe.”
He shook his head and tsked, as if to say I pity you. “Listen up, cupcake. I’m about to drop major pearls of wisdom.”
“Even though I know how rare wisdom-dropping is for you, please, don’t.”
“If I want to get a chick into bed, I say one of two things. ‘I screwed up.’ Or ‘let’s talk about it.’ Boom. Clothes are flying, limbs are tangled and freaky things are happening. But if you say those things to Cole, he’s such a pansy he’ll be over and done in his jeans before the good stuff even starts.”
“Give me a minute to get over my shock that you’re still single.”
“I know, right. You’ll probably need more than a minute, though. It’s a real mind puzzler.”
“Look, some couples care about more than sex.” I thought about the way Cole sometimes looked at me, as if the sun rose and set just for me. “They care about connecting.”
“You’re proving my point for me. They care about connecting...physically.”
“Mentally. Emotionally.”
“Honey buns, only one half of the couple cares about the mental and emotional, and here’s a hint—it’s not the guy. But I digress. You’re just going to jump him, aren’t you? No muss, no fuss—you’ll just tear off his clothes and show him who’s boss.” He wiggled his brows. “Why, Ali Bell, I didn’t know you had it in you.”
Question: If I gutted him like a zombie, would anyone actually convict me of a crime?
Answer: No! Everyone would thank me.
“Just...concentrate on the road,” I said.
He obeyed, which made me suspicious of his next move. I studied his profile. He could have been plucked straight out of a magazine. An underwear ad. Hence the nickname I’d given him. He was pretty-boy beautiful, with blond hair and sparkling eyes of green and gold.
“You’re staring,” he said. “Thinking about doing me now? Well, I hate to break it to you, cupcake, but that ship has sailed.”
Third eye-roll. “Trying to figure you out.”
“Although,” he continued, as if I hadn’t spoken, “I could probably be convinced to show you how a real man pleases a woman after Cole screws everything up. You know, as an act of mercy.”
“I’d rather a zombie show me. You will never be a candidate.” Keeping him humble was a service I offered free of charge—and I still wasn’t sure I was getting my money’s worth.
He shrugged. “Your loss.”
“You’re only being so generous—” I nearly choked on the word “—because you don’t like being told no.”
“Or because chicks are like candy, and it’s my mission to taste-test all the different flavors.”
Fourth eye-roll. “Roughly four weeks ago, you claimed you wanted to find true love and become part of a meaningful relationship.”
“Roughly four weeks ago, I was an idiot,” he replied with a shudder.
I shook my head in exasperation. “You’re an STD waiting to happen. You know that, don’t you?”
“Super talented director?” He hiked his shoulders. “Not sure I want to get into the movie business, but okay.”
“Wrong. So totally douchey. And you’re already in deep.”
He flipped me off, and when I laughed, he pressed his finger against my nose. “I take it Cole’s dad has no idea you’ll be staying over and corrupting his son.”
“That’s right.” Just to be contrary, I added, “I’m going to corrupt him so hard.”
Gavin gave a dramatic sigh. “If I didn’t like Cole so much, I’d hate him. That prick always gets the rare, limited-time flavors.” He eased the car to a stop beside the curb and killed the lights.
My mind instantly switched tracks, my heart drumming with excitement. In less than a minute, I would be in Cole’s arms.
“Thanks for the ride, Gavin.”
“Anytime, cupcake. Even if it wasn’t the ride I wanted to give you.”
“Good glory.” I removed one of my gloves and threw it at him.
He caught and kissed it.
An-n-nd there went the fifth eye-roll.
There went another answering grin.
I abandoned the warmth of the car for the frigid chill of the night, my boots crunching in ice as I raced toward the spacious one-story with red brick and white wood trim. In my eagerness, I missed the rock in my path and tripped.
A+, self.
Cole’s window was in back, the first on the left. It was unlocked, just as he’d promised. I scrambled inside as quietly as possible and closed the glass behind me.
Before I could turn around or adjust to the deeper darkness of the room, I was grabbed.
A hard hand clamped over my mouth, silencing my gasp. Another hand wrapped around me, pinning my arms to my sides to prevent my elbows from doing any damage.
“I said five minutes, Miss Bell.” Cole’s low, husky voice caressed me, draining the fight right out of me. “You took eight. Do you know what that means?”
I swallowed a giggle. “I need to buy a watch?”
“You’re finally getting that spanking I’ve been promising you.” His hands fell away, and I spun to face him, keeping my eyes to the floor out of habit.
Usually, when our eyes met for the first time during any given day, we had a vision of our future. We’d caught a glimpse of each other earlier this morning, saving us the hassle now.
I was glad.
What we’d seen... I hadn’t let myself think about it, too afraid I’d break down. Cole, leaning against a tree, crimson streaking his face and chest, soaking his hands, his expression a mix of unequaled pain and immeasurable grief as I walked away from him.
Walked. Away.
There was no reason good enough for that.
How badly was he injured? When would the vision come true? In a few days? Weeks? Months? There had never been any sort of time limit. The only guarantee was that it would happen. We’d never managed to stop one.
Red alert! Red alert! Impending emotional breakdown.
I shoved the worry into the mental box, stretching the sides. It was a fight, but I managed to lock the lid.
Better. For now.
“You can look at me,” he said. “I won’t bite...very hard.”
My gaze moved up, up and linked with his, and suddenly I was trapped by a yearning that had plagued me since the first moment we’d met. For him...for this...for more.
A slow grin lifted the corners of his wicked mouth.
Dude. While Gavin was pretty, Cole was pure, rugged sex appeal. He should totally come with a warning. Possible panty melting. Moonlight spilled over him, illuminating him, and for a few seconds, I thought I heard angels singing. His black hair stood out in adorable spikes, as if he’d plowed his hands through the strands one too many times. Eager to see me, perhaps? His gorgeous violet eyes were framed by lashes so thick and black, he always looked like he’d applied eyeliner.
As for the rest of him...
Good glory! I knew the physique hidden by his clothing. Skin bronzed to perfection. Muscles honed to perfection. A perfect chest covered by the most perfect tattoos. One of his nipples was pierced—meow!—and it was, you guessed it, perfect.
His knuckles feathered over my cheek, the slight touch electrifying me. “I missed you.”
Shivering, I said, “How much?”
“Why? Do you think you missed me more?”
“Sure of it.”
“I will happily prove you wrong. After I see my surprise.”
“Get ready for pure awesomeness.” I lifted my hair and pivoted, revealing my neck.
Silence descended.
I frowned, suddenly nervous. What if he didn’t like it? Ink was permanent.
“Ali.” His voice, so husky and deep, was temptation and silk, stroking over me. “Did I ever tell you all the reasons I love you?”
“No.” I licked my lips and shook my head, gathering the courage to face him. His eyes were heavy-lidded, smoldering.
He liked the tattoo.
“Tell me now,” I commanded softly.
“I’ll tell you the top ten. One,” he said and kissed my forehead. “You are brutally honest. It’s such a rare and precious trait.”
Major points for my man: he’d led with personality rather than appearance.
“Two.” He kissed my eye. “You have the perfect sense of humor...perfect for me. It’s a little warped, and a lot twisted, and you can make me laugh when no one else can.”
I almost melted. Almost. I had to hear the rest. “Go on or I’ll hurt you.” Had I sounded as breathless to him as I had to myself?
He chuckled. “Three.” He kissed my other eye, gentle, so gentle. “You’re smart. I want to see your brain naked.”
Ha!
“Four. You are freaking hot.”
“Obviously.” And okay, yeah, he got points for that, too. Maybe because I so very rarely felt hot. Or maybe because I so desperately wanted another kiss. A harder one. On my lips. With tongue and teeth. And roaming hands. Or maybe because I wanted him to want all of me.
“Five.” He kissed my cheek, and I moaned. More. “You are unbelievably kind.” He kissed my other cheek. “Six. You love with your whole heart, nothing held back.”
“Come on. Kiss me for real.” Did he want me to beg? Because I would...after I made him beg a little, too.
“Seven.” He pressed his lips against one side of my jaw, skipping my lips, dang him. “You are such a good fighter, I could stand back and watch you do all the hard work, and I wouldn’t feel like a wuss. I’d feel like a genius.”
“I’ll believe that when I see it.”
“Eight.” He kissed his way to the other side of my jaw. “The way you sometimes look at me... It’s as if I’m the sweetest dessert in the bakery and you are desperate for a bite.”
Yes, yes. A big, delicious bite. “At one time,” I said, the huskiness of my tone surprising me. I wrapped my arms around his neck. “That look of mine scared you.” With good reason. I’d been loaded with zombie toxin and had literally wanted to eat him. Well, not me but my zombie twin. Z.A.
“Nine,” he went on and nibbled on my ear. “You’re like the world’s most perfect drug. One hundred percent pure, guaranteed to addict after the first taste. I can’t imagine my life without you in it—don’t want to.”
My skin tingled, and my blood flashed white-hot. “Cole,” I said on another moan. I tangled my hands in his hair, angled his head, trying to take over. “Please. Stop talking, and start acting.”
“Ten,” he said and finally—blessedly—pressed his lips against mine. Only it was soft, far too soft. “You would die for me, the same way I would die for you.”
“Yes, yes, I would.” I waited for hard.
He didn’t give it to me. His face hovered directly over mine as he...deliberated his next move?
Happy to help with that. “Take off your shirt,” I commanded, already pulling at the material. “Now.”
He gave me a quick smile. “Impatient?”
“Feral. And don’t you dare complain. You’re to blame.”
“Complain? I’d rather celebrate.” He plucked his shirt from my hands. “Take off your coat.”
I was only surprised it hadn’t already burned off me. I was that hot for him.
As he jerked the cotton over his head, I yanked at my coat and sweater, leaving on the tank, jeans and boots...for now. My gaze, controlled by a force greater than myself, traveled all over him—gold star for this one, God—before settling on his chest. He’d tattooed my name in bold, black letters that stretched from one nipple to the other.
Breathing him in...mmm, soap and strawberries...I traced the design with shaky fingers.
He gave a little moan. “Before we start, Ali-gator, I’ve got to warn you.”
“Before we start?”
He fisted a handful of my hair, careful of my sore nape, and tugged me against him. Male strength against feminine softness. His gaze was fierce, unwavering. “I’m not going all the way with you.”
The heat in my blood instantly cooled. “But why?” Right after my brush with death, he’d been ready. More than ready.
And I had been, too. Still was. I’d accepted that sex was something I could never take back, that it would change the course of our relationship...and me. While I wasn’t a big fan of change, this was Cole. My Cole. I’d deal.
“After your grandmother interrupted us that night,” he said, “I got to thinking.” A hard mask fell over his features, making me suspect he’d done more than think. He’d probably listened to a lecture from his dad. “I’m eighteen. You’re sixteen.”
“Almost seventeen.”
“I’m a legal adult. You’re not.”
“Cole—”
“Let me finish.” His tone was now as hard as his features, intractable. “I think we should wait.”
I peered up at him. At five-ten, I was tall. At six-four, he was taller. He was wider than me, heavier, and anytime I was near him I felt utterly consumed by him. Usually I adored it. Today, not so much. “Two years is—”
“One year, three months.”
“—a long time,” I finished.
“Not when we’ve got a lifetime together.”
I opened my mouth to protest. Finally his lips crashed into mine.
Instant inferno. I kissed him with everything I had. We’d discuss the year-and-three-months wait at another time—maybe after I’d taken the edge off. Right now, I was simply going to enjoy him...and whatever he’d give me.
As my nails scraped against his back, and his hands anchored on my bottom, yanking me even closer, a thousand little fires ignited in my belly, spreading through the rest of me. What I’d thought was an inferno before? Not even close.
The flames must have spread through him, too, because he hoisted me up, rubbing himself against me. I wound my legs around his waist, practically melding our bodies together. He walked to the bed and laid me down, half of me hanging over the edge. All the while, the kiss continued. Hotter. Faster.
“We can do other things,” he rasped. “Like before.”
“Yes. Like before.” The things he’d made me feel...
He planted his hands at my temples and raised his head. Panting, he said, “But maybe we’ll go a little further this time.”
I licked my kiss-swollen lips and uttered a trembling “Why are you still talking?”
His grin was slow and wicked as he played with the clasp of my bra through my tank.
Beyond the bedroom door, glass tinkled.
Cole paused, frowned. “What—”
Multiple footsteps thumped against a wood floor.
Pop.
Pop.
Shocked, we bolted upright together. I knew that sound. Gunshot muffled by a silencer. But...but...
“Someone’s here,” Cole said, rushing to the nightstand to palm one of the weapons perched on top.
Who would attack the Hollands? And why? Doesn’t make any sense...no sense...
Cole gave me a sharp look.
Right. Arm up. I shook my head to disperse the fog of stupidity and pulled two daggers from my boots. I never went anywhere without them. But daggers were for up-close-and-personal grab-and-stabs with zombies. Shots had been fired. I wouldn’t be dealing with zombies.
I dropped the daggers and grabbed the pistol I had stashed in my coat.
“Cole! Run!” his father shouted—just as the bedroom window shattered.
Cole didn’t have a chance to run.
More glass shattered. Something launched him across the room like a rocket-propelled grenade. He smashed into the wall, slid to the floor, leaving a thick, bright red smear of blood behind him.
Chapter 3 (#ulink_ca54d3a9-c19b-5e42-81a6-d2a6fa2476fe)
NO SPILLED GUTS,
NO GLORY
What the heck was going on?
Gasping, I dropped to my knees. “Cole?” I whispered, frantically crawling toward him. The pistol clinked against the floorboards, reminding me of a ticking clock.
I hated ticking clocks. An entire life could be altered in a single second.
I released the weapon and pressed two fingers into his neck, feeling for a pulse. Don’t be dead, don’t be dead, please, please, don’t be dead. And yeah, okay, I knew death wasn’t the end for us. Look at my sister. But I wasn’t ready to lose any part of Cole.
Thump...thump. Thump...
Thank God! Slow, but strong. He was alive.
His eyes fluttered open. “Ali?”
“It’s okay,” I said. “You’re okay. You’re going to be okay.”
“What happened?”
I surveyed the damage. There was a hole in the shoulder. Blood soaked him.
“Someone just shot you, I think. Right in front of me. That someone could still be out there. We could still be targets.” The two halves of my brain were at war—hope versus dread—screwing with my focus. “What should I do?”
“Bind.” He spoke softly, the word little more than air. “Shoulder.”
Of course. Yes. I knew that. But...binding his shoulder wouldn’t do much good. Blood was gushing out of him. He needed fire; it would cauterize.
Slayers could produce fire; it was necessary to kill zombies. I could produce fire. When summoned, the flames crackled at the ends of our fingers. We pressed them into zombies, and the heat spread, purified, burning away evil and darkness. Eventually, zombies exploded. For some reason, I could flame from head to toe and only a moment of contact was needed to end a zombie.
When used on humans, the fire healed...sometimes. Sometimes it caused final death, just like with zombies.
It had healed me, and it would heal Cole. We were both slayers, and that was the key distinguishing factor between healing and exploding.
Right?
I had to try. He wouldn’t make it otherwise. He was hemorrhaging strength, his head lolling to the side. His lips were starting to turn blue, his skin chalk-white.
Frantic, I closed my eyes. Humans were made of three parts. The spirit, the source of life, was bound to the soul, which consisted of the mind, will and emotions. Both were housed inside the body, the outer shell. With a deep breath in...out...I forced my spirit and body to separate; it was like removing a hand from a glove. Because zombies were spirits, they could only fight other spirits. I’d learned to divide like this at a moment’s notice.
Cold air enveloped me. Without the insulation of skin and muscle, my spirit felt the temperature drop what seemed like a thousand degrees.
“What are...you doing?” As a slayer, Cole could see into the spirit realm. Could see me.
Couldn’t pause to explain. When it came to stuff like this, I was so new I had trouble multitasking.
Light, I thought, and the ends of my fingers heated. I peeked...flames crackled all the way to my wrist. Good, good. I reached inside Cole’s shoulder.
His breath hitched. That was it, his only reaction. Even still, I knew his pain was off the charts. Been here, done this. He’d basically just received third-degree burns on his soul. But he hadn’t turned to ash, so I would consider this a win.
I dismissed the flames and returned my spirit to its proper place with a simple touch, then studied Cole. His color was back to normal. That quickly. I grabbed the shirt he’d discarded and wrapped the material around the still-bleeding, but now-charring wound.
What next? I didn’t know if there were bad guys with guns trained on the open window that was allowing flurries to bluster inside the room. I didn’t know how many bad guys were in the house, shooting at Mr. Holland—or if Mr. Holland was still alive.
My insides twisted into a maze of painful knots.
No matter what, we couldn’t—wouldn’t—leave without him.
“Can you walk?” I asked.
Cole’s jaw clenched with determination. “I don’t...care if I...can. I will.”
Despite the pauses in his speech, his timbre was stronger. Not just because of the emergency cauterization, I was sure, but because his bones were reinforced with iron-hard resolve, and his muscles pumped full of courage.
“I’ll find your dad and meet you—”
“No.” His tone was inflexible, meant to stop any argument. “We stay together.”
“Time is of the essence.”
“Don’t care. My dad. My decision.”
Very well. “We need more weapons.” I crawled to the gun he’d dropped and slid it to him. Then I continued on to the nightstand and claimed the minicrossbow he had stashed there.
Cole struggled to his knees. “I’ll go through...door first. You stay...on my heels. Got it?” He yanked a backpack from his closet, grimaced.
No, I didn’t get it, and I wouldn’t do as he’d demanded. The strong led the weak, not the other way around.
“I’ll go first.”
“Just—” He frowned, then held up a finger for silence.
I paused to listen for suspicious noises. Wind whistled eerily and...ice crunched. Every instinct I possessed shouted red alert, red alert!
Someone was coming in hot.
I turned and aimed just as a masked man swung his legs through the window. As he straightened, I squeezed the trigger. An arrow lodged in his throat, shutting off his airway and cutting off a bellow of pain before it could even form.
A kill shot.
I’d done what was necessary. I couldn’t regret that.
Keeping my weapon trained on the intruder, I closed the distance. His head was turned to the side, his eyes open, but glazed. No pulse. He had an earpiece anchored to his lobe. I lifted the bud and listened, heard a tangle of voices.
“Hit. I’m hit—”
“—like me to proceed?”
“He’s dead—”
There were more of them.
The door wrenched open, and I spun. I registered Mr. Holland’s identity at the same time I gave the trigger a second squeeze, barely managing to twist my wrist and send the arrow into the post at his side.
“Get down,” Cole commanded with a mixture of concern and relief.
Mr. Holland remained on his feet. One of his eyes was swollen shut; he scanned the room with the other, inhaling sharply when he spotted Cole, exhaling slowly when he spotted me. Crimson streaked his face. “There were four. Three inside, one outside. But it looks like you got him.” He stalked to Cole’s side and peeled back the soaked cotton to check his wound.
Cole winced.
“Clean shot, all the way through. Edges burned. Bleeding slowing.” Mr. Holland threw the shirt aside, removed the one he wore and rebound his son. “We don’t have much time. One got away. He’ll come back with others.”
“I’ve already heard others,” I said. “On the dead guy’s earpiece.”
“Those men aren’t here. They’re at Ankh’s.”
Mr. Ankh, Reeve’s father. He wasn’t a slayer, but he funded our cause and allowed Nana and me to live at his house.
“Nana,” I rasped. “Kat.” She’d planned to stay the night with Reeve. Were they hurt?
Not knowing...
I should have been there, should have protected them.
“I’m sorry,” Mr. Holland said, “but I don’t know the outcome. This was a planned attack, meant to take us all down at once.”
All? “You mean—” No. No, no, no. I didn’t like where my thoughts were headed.
“Ankh called me. Someone shut down his security system. I was getting dressed, intending to go over there and help, when another call came in. Frosty. Soon after, Bronx rang. But I didn’t have a chance to answer either boy. Two men busted through our back door. So, yes. I suspect every slayer on our team was targeted tonight.”
Frosty. Bronx. Trina. Lucas. Cruz. Collins. Gavin. Veronica. Mackenzie. Justin. Jaclyn. If anything had happened to any of them... Different emotions hit me with the force of a baseball bat. Pain, regret, worry and a sharp lance of rage.
A to-do list took shape in my mind. Compartmentalize. Get Cole to a doctor. Find everyone else. Destroy the people responsible.
I didn’t have to wonder about the culprit. Anima Industries. No question.
“The Ankhs have multiple secret passages meant for quick getaways,” Cole said, his expression fierce. “Ankh got everyone out, Ali-gator. I guarantee it.”
Like me, he abhorred lies. I believed him.
I confiscated the backpack, and he winced. “Sorry,” I muttered as I anchored the strap over my shoulder. Whatever he’d stuffed inside weighed a million pounds. At least. “Let’s get out of here.”
We made it to the garage without incident, and I uttered a quiet prayer of thanks. Cole climbed into the passenger seat of his Jeep, and I set the backpack at his feet.
Mr. Holland tossed me a set of keys. “You’re driving.”
“Yes.” A license wasn’t important right now.
“Take him to Holy Trinity Church. Pastor’s office. Bookshelf.” Mr. Holland looked to Cole. “Like the shelter we built for your mom.”
Cole stiffened. Any mention of his mother always had that effect. She’d been a slayer, and she might have had a shelter, but she’d still died during a zombie attack.
Mr. Holland met my gaze. “That’s where Ankh and your grandmother will be if—”
They survived, I finished for him and would have flown straight into a panic if not for a whispering replay of Cole’s assurance. Ankh got everyone out, Ali-gator.
“Just make sure my boy gets there,” Mr. Holland said.
Nothing would stop me. “What about you?”
“I won’t be far behind.”
What did he have to do? Bury the bodies?
Oh, glory. Probably.
Trembling, I took my place behind the wheel. My palms sweat. My blood ran hot, but my skin iced over. Acid poured through me, stinging. As the garage door lifted, Cole reached over and squeezed my hand, offering what comfort he could. His skin was colder than mine and clammy.
“I won’t let anything happen to you,” I vowed, put the pedal to the metal and jetted onto the road. I braced myself, expecting a hail of bullets to pepper the vehicle. As seconds ticked into minutes, I began to relax.
If only the reprieve could have lasted. I turned a corner and spotted Gavin’s car wrapped around a pole. Steam curled from the crumpled hood. The driver-side door was open, but no one was behind the wheel.
“No,” I gasped out.
“He’s tough,” Cole said. “He’s smart, and he’s been through hell and back and survived.”
Tears welled as I parked in front of the wreckage. If Gavin survived, he was definitely injured. He would be nearby, hiding in the surrounding trees, waiting...unless he’d been carted somewhere else.
Searching for him could waste precious time. Time Cole didn’t have.
I had a choice to make.
Knowing how my mind worked, Cole said, “I’m wounded. Not dead. Stop worrying about me...and do what you have to do...for Gavin.” The more he spoke, the more labored his breathing became.
“I don’t want to leave you,” I admitted. “You need medical attention ASAP and—”
“Reason eleven,” he said, and it took me a moment to catch up. All the reasons he loved me. “You’re willing to risk...everything for your...friends. Besides, you won’t...be alone. Where you go...I go.”
What! “No. You’re staying in the car.”
“Ali.”
“Cole. You’re already panting. You’re still bleeding. Movement has increased the flow of blood. And you’re wearing shorts.”
His gaze raked over me. “Ali-gator. You’re wearing a tank.”
Again with the iron-hard resolve. “You’ll slow me down. And no, no more arguing. We’re sitting ducks here.”
He scowled. “Fine. Be careful...or I’ll be mad.”
I kissed him, hard and fast. Cold air cut at my exposed skin as I emerged. My feet had somehow morphed into heavy boulders, but I managed to maintain a swift pace, tracking a blood trail from the car to a tree that had scratches in the bark. From there I discovered a set of footprints that were the right size, with a depth consistent with Gavin’s muscled weight.
The prints stopped abruptly.
“Gavin,” I called, willing to chance Anima’s notice. Anything to help my friend. “It’s Ali.”
No response. Not even the call of insects.
The silence...killing me.
“Gavin. Please.”
Again, silence.
A well of tears. There wasn’t anything more I could do. I raced to the car. Cole was paler, and what little strength he’d gained had clearly abandoned him.
“Any...sign?” he asked.
“He was definitely here, but whether he’s unconscious or elsewhere, I don’t know. I’ll get you to Mr. Ankh and come back.” Before he could comment about the danger I’d be facing, I said, “How are you holding up?”
“Baby, we just got back together.” His teeth chattered. “There’s no way I’m dying right now.”
I wanted to turn on the heat, but didn’t. The low temperature was his best friend right now, helping to slow the bleeding. Thank you, old episodes of Scrubs.
“Do you promise?” I asked.
“Promise.”
* * *
I eased past the church. A beautiful three-story brownstone, shaped like an M. In the center, steep concrete steps led to the main door. Both sides were raised at the roof, coming to a point in the form of an intricate iron cross. I counted ten stained-glass windows, and all were intact. The parking lot was empty, illuminated by a single street lamp.
I searched the surrounding area for any sign that Mr. Ankh—or Anima—was nearby. As late as it was, the shops and cafés were closed. No one seemed to be huddling in the shadows. Only two cars were in the lot across the street, and both were empty. Neither belonged to anyone I knew.
I parked in a neighborhood two blocks away. Anima clearly knew where we lived. They also had to know what we drove. If they sent someone after us, I didn’t want the vehicle near the church.
“We’ll stick to the shadows and hoof it,” I said.
Cole grimaced as he swiped up the backpack. “You were...right. I’m slower. If trouble comes...don’t hang around...to help me. Get yourself...inside that building.”
No way. “We stay together, remember?”
“Only when...convenient for you.”
“Exactly.” I got out before he could respond, the cold sucking the air right out of my lungs.
When he stood beside me, mist dancing in front of his face, I tried to take the pack, but he scowled at me. “Reason twelve. Stubborn. But as long as...I’m breathing...I will protect you...carry what burden I can.”
That. That was one of the many reasons I’d fallen in love with him. “Cole—”
“Me man. You woman.” Everything about him was as hard as granite. He motioned forward with a tilt of his chin. “Walk.”
“Getting shot makes us cranky, I see.” On the lookout, I launched into action. The night had secrets hidden in its shadows, and if I wasn’t careful I could be bitten by one.
Cole stumbled several times but managed to keep up.
Coming to a small brick fence built for decoration rather than security, I crouched. No one loomed ahead; we scaled the obstruction with only minor difficulty and worked our way to the back of the church. While I used the skill I’d picked up from Frosty and jimmied the lock on the door, Cole leaned against the wall. His breathing was even more labored now. Should I use the fire again?
No time. Hinges squeaked as I shouldered my way inside the building. All the lights were out, pitch black greeting us with open arms. I used the flashlight app on my phone—there was an app for everything—chasing away the shadows. We were in a kitchen. It was small, but clean. We were alone. Ahead, a hallway branched in three different directions.
“This way.” Cole took the lead, his steps shuffling, his gait slower by the minute.
I made sure the light illuminated the way as we bypassed each of the doorways and entered the sanctuary. I muttered a prayer for strength and peace. Was Nana here? Were my friends? Or—
Borrowing trouble.
Right. We sailed through the sound room, a storage overflowing with choir robes, and finally entered the pastor’s office. Cole, who was wobbling on his feet, flipped on the overhead lamp, and I stuffed my phone in my pocket. I blinked in an effort to adjust to the added brightness and saw a bookcase, desk, computer, file cabinet and a few chairs.
“I’m missing something,” I said. “Where’s the shelter?”
“Here.” He squatted and scooped out the things inside the bottom cubby of the bookcase. Reaching back, he lifted a hidden hatch, revealing a tunnel just big enough for an adult male to crawl through.
“Down,” he said. “Hurry.” His lids closed...then snapped back open.
How close was he to passing out?
I practically flew through the hole—found a ladder. Darkness enveloped me as I descended. Like a real-life Alice in Wonderland, I thought with a nervous laugh. My palms began to sweat all over again, and I had to squash images of Cole losing his grip and tumbling to his death.
Trickles of light filtered in. At the bottom, I hopped to the cement floor. With my help, Cole was able to do the same with minimal pain.
“Anima will pay for this,” I vowed.
“Yes, and they’ll...pay...in blood.”
A lot of blood.
We were in a small, dim box of a room, but voices rose beyond the far right wall. Voices I recognized.
I bounded forward. “Nana!”
“Ali?” she responded.
Light brightened around the corner, and I quickened my pace, soon entering a spacious room loaded with gurneys, medical equipment and weapons. Nana, dressed in her favorite nightgown, headed straight for me. I gathered her in my arms and hugged her tight, doing my best not to snot-cry all over her.
“Thank God! You’re alive.” She was the only family I had left, and I would rather die than lose her. “You’re really alive.”
“I’m telling you, I had to be surrounded by angels tonight. There’s no other explanation for my survival.”
“I’m so sorry I wasn’t with you.”
“I was glad you weren’t. I would have hated knowing you witnessed the violence we did. You’ve seen too much already.” A shudder rocked her small frame, and I couldn’t bring myself to admit I had witnessed more than my fair share tonight, too. “I took comfort knowing you were out there and safe.”
Behind me, I caught the soft sound of shambling footsteps and pulled from Nana’s embrace. “I’ll be right back.” Cole had just passed the threshold, and I raced to his side.
His features were pinched, his skin pallid. He managed a small smile when I reached him. At this point, I think he was running on pure adrenaline. “Told you...she’d be...all right.”
“Gloat all you want.” Just live! I shoved the backpack from his shoulder, the heavy weight thumping against the floor. “Let’s get you to a gurney.”
“Ali, you have to know...not afraid...to die.”
Jolt! And not the good kind. “I know that.” A person afraid of dying could never really live, and Cole Holland definitely lived. “Why are you telling me this now? You made a promise to me and I expect you to keep it.”
He leaned against me in an effort to remain on his feet.
I wound my arm snug around his waist. “Mr. Ankh,” I called. “Help.”
The male stalked around a curtain. He was shirtless and stacked with as much muscle as the slayers; it looked like he’d been in the process of sewing his own wound back together, because a needle and thread hung from a thick, seeping gash on his clavicle. His usually dark skin was almost as pallid as Cole’s and was now marked with cuts and bruises.
He spotted us, quickened his pace. Together, we hefted Cole onto a gurney. Which was a big-time struggle. He passed out halfway up, becoming a dead weight. Mr. Ankh shouldered me out of the way to clean him up and patch the wound on his shoulder.
Mr. Ankh is a surgeon, I reminded myself. He knows what to do.
“He’s going to be okay, right?” I asked.
A tic below Mr. Ankh’s eye. He remained silent.
I pressed my lips together.
Compartmentalize.
Yes, but how much more could the compartments take?
Nana came up beside me, squeezed my hand.
“How did you get here?” I asked.
“One of the tunnels in Mr. Ankh’s house leads straight here.”
“Where are the others?” I scanned the room and answered my own question. Kat reclined on one of the gurneys, her dark hair tangled around her pale face, her expression...odd. Blank.
I frowned. Something—more than the obvious—was wrong with her.
Reeve sprawled on the gurney beside her, her hair just as tangled. Her eyes were closed, and she was so still she could only be...
No! “Tell me she’s okay.”
“She is. She had to be sedated.” Nana released a shuddering breath. “So did Kat.”
Okay. Okay. I could guess the reason. Reeve had probably tried to leave to find Bronx, and Kat had probably screamed bloody murder, desperate to get to Frosty.
“I have something to tell you, dear,” Nana said, sorrow practically dripping from her.
I stiffened. “No.” I could guess what was coming.
“You need to know. Two of the...” She sniffled. “Two slayers were...are...”
“No,” I repeated.
“Lucas and Trina. Beautiful Trina. They...”
I shook my head violently. Don’t want to hear this.
“Lucas called. Trina was with him. They were being chased. Ankh told them where to go. Then he and I... We left the girls here, sleeping in a safe room, and went to get the others.”
I focused on that—that Mr. Ankh had taken my grandmother from safety and placed her in danger—and not the words to come. Not... Don’t say it. Please, don’t say it.
“He suspected he would need my help. That he’d have to tend to their wounds while I drove. I wish he’d been right. It would have been—” She cleared her throat. “We arrived first. The two came running around the corner.”
She was. She was going to say it. “Nana, stop. Just don’t.” If she didn’t say it, and I didn’t hear it, it wouldn’t be real.
More sniffles, before she added, “Ankh tried. He tried so hard to kill their pursuers. And he did. But not before both kids were gunned down. They never made it to the car. I’m so sorry, dear. So very sorry.”
Not prepared.
Lucas and Trina. Dead.
Dead!
Two friends. Gone. Because Anima had decided to stop watching us, stop threatening us, and act. Because we’d become so caught up in our own little world, we hadn’t realized someone was about to unleash a maelstrom of pain.
I hadn’t gotten to say goodbye.
Just like that, the compartments burst at the seams and every emotion I’d managed to stave off came rising to the surface. Regret, worry and guilt, now mixed with grief, anguish and fury, created a tidal wave and flooded me.
Drowning...
I fell to my knees and sobbed.
Chapter 4 (#ulink_db3edc72-0e3d-5d8c-85d0-f403aaf14efd)
BRAINS ARE OVERRATED
(AND SALTY)
I had the strangest dream. A little girl, probably three, maybe four, was strapped to a chair, a plain but elegant woman sitting at her side, holding her hand. The woman had such a slender bone structure she looked like some kind of fairy princess from a storybook. She had wavy, shoulder-length hair the color of wheat and eyes so pale they were freaky.
I’d seen those eyes before. Many times before.
Like, every time I’d looked in a mirror.
They were rare. And yet, the little girl had those eyes, too.
Were they mother and daughter? Relatives I’d never met?
It was possible, I supposed. But why was I dreaming about them?
And why was I assuming this was real, just because it felt that way? Dreams were just that. Dreams. They weren’t fact.
“Don’t worry,” the woman said with a quaver. “Once they finish, I’ll take you home and make your favorite cookies.”
“I want to go home now. I don’t care about cookies.”
“I know you want to go, sweetie, I know. But you can’t. Not yet. This is necessary.”
“Why?” Tears fell in earnest. “They hurt me, Momma.”
The mother began to cry, as well. “You’re such a special little girl. You can do things no one else can. Through you, they can help other people. Save other people.”
They? Who were they?
“—not leaving her.” Nana’s voice registered, as did her concern.
The dream vanished in a puff of smoke.
I tried to open my eyes, didn’t have the strength. Lethargy made my skull feel as if it had been hollowed out and stuffed with boulders.
“You are.”
Mr. Holland’s voice now. He said something else, but a high-pitched ring invaded my ears, distorting the rest of the conversation. “—bry mand take see.”
“Moo bought I cast soon loo.”
I bit the side of my tongue, tasted the copper tang of blood. The ensuing pain must have set off a chemical reaction, releasing all kinds of goodies, because I received the boost I needed. The ringing faded, and tendrils of strength wound through me.
“—at war right now, and that makes you a target. Ali won’t be the fighter I know she can be, needs to be, if she’s worried about you.” Mr. Holland possessed the same iron-hard determination as his son, making the words sound as though they’d been chiseled from ice. “You’re going and that’s final.”
I cracked open my eyelids, then blinked rapidly to clear the blur. Meanwhile, memories banged at the door of my mind, demanding entrance. Before I could decide whether to accept or decline, the door splintered and I was bombarded. Cole, shot. Gavin, missing. Kat and Reeve, sedated. Trina and Lucas—
No.
No!
But there was no erasing the knowledge. They were dead. Shot and killed. Gone forever.
My mind shied away from the devastation. I couldn’t allow myself to grieve. Not now. Later, though...
Yes, later.
Right now, it was time to start compartmentalizing again. Nine of my friends were out there, targets to the madmen running Anima, and they had to be found.
Moaning, I sat up. Dizziness struck, as if it had been waiting for me.
Another memory took root. I’d broken down and cried. Mr. Ankh had approached my side and, while cooing comforting words at me, withdrew a syringe from his pocket and injected me with something. A sedative, I thought now, my jaw clenching with irritation.
“Easy, dear.” The sweet scent of Nana’s perfume teased me as a gentle arm wrapped around my shoulders to keep me upright.
My hands quaked as I rubbed my gritty eyes. The dizziness faded, the room and the people in it coming into perfect view. Nana, with her black bob brushed and gleaming, her nightgown replaced by an oversize T-shirt and a pair of sweatpants. Mr. Holland, standing beside her, his face cleaned and bandaged.
Beyond them, Kat and Reeve paced inside a small room surrounded by glass. Probably two-way mirrors. I met Kat’s gaze, but she looked away, as if she had no idea I was there.
“Are they confined?” I asked, and a second later Reeve beat at one of the walls.
“Yes. Frosty and Bronx have yet to be found, and the girls are determined to hunt them,” Mr. Holland said. “They tried to sneak out.”
Of course they did. “Release them,” I commanded. “Now. Kat’s not even a target. We can send her home.” Where she’d stay safe.
He gave a single shake of his head. “She is Frosty’s biggest weakness and one of yours. Of course she’s a target. And we both know she won’t go home. She’ll go after her boyfriend, no matter what we tell her. Reeve, too. And while both girls have had some training in self-defense, they aren’t ready for an all-out war, which is exactly what they’ll get. They stay.”
Stay, yes, I conceded. Locked away? No. But we’d come back to that. “Where’s Cole?”
Nana squeezed me tight. “Don’t you worry about him. He’s doing well. Better than any of us expected. Ankh hauled him to the house to feed him.”
Relief was, oh, so sweet. “So it’s safe to go back?”
“Safer by the minute,” Mr. Holland said with a nod. “When Ankh isn’t playing doctor, he’s working on the security. As soon as he’s satisfied there are no other hidden vulnerabilities, we’ll be able to go in and out the front door. Until then, we are to sneak through the tunnel.”
“What about the other slayers?”
The vim and vigor seeped out of him, and his shoulders slumped. He looked away from me, no longer able to hold my gaze. “We don’t know where they are.”
But he knew something. He just didn’t want to tell me what it was. Hands beginning to sweat, I said, “Text them. Tell them to come here and—”
“I want to,” he interjected with a shake of his head, “but I won’t. Anima could have their phones.”
He was right. Dang it!
He scrubbed his fingers through his hair. “Every news station has been running a story about last night’s eruption of ‘gang violence.’ They claim Cole is the leader of one gang, and his rival, a street thug named River Marks, decided to get rid of him and his crew.”
“Wait. How did they know Cole was any kind of leader?” And did the police know I’d shot and killed someone in his home?
I sucked in a fiery breath. Oh, glory, I’d shot and killed someone.
Compartmentalize.
“No.” Mr. Holland’s features softened as he computed the direction my thoughts had taken. “I snuck back to the house this morning. Someone had come by and cleared away the, uh, collateral damage. The cops saw that the house was broken into, and Cole’s blood was on the wall, but nothing more.”
Anima had gone back, then.
“For now,” he added, “we lay low. We let Anima wonder who survived.”
And who didn’t, I finished for him, taking a few seconds to breathe. The problem with such a plan was that we had to wonder, too.
“Again,” I said, “I’m unsure how the police connected the dots to Cole. They should have just assumed he was a victim.”
Mr. Holland worked his jaw. “Apparently, a mysterious source called in the information.”
Mysterious. In other words, Anima.
Nana rested her head on my shoulder. “Tell her the rest, Tyler. Better it come from you than someone else.”
My heart dropped. “What is it?”
He closed his eyes, but not before I caught a flash of grief. “Cruz is... He’s dead, too. He was found in his bed, a bullet in his brain.”
No. No, no, no. Another friend lost. A beautiful life ended far too soon.
Compartmentalize!
“I’m going after the others,” I announced. They were out there. They were alive.
They had to be alive.
I was going to find them and bring them back.
Mr. Holland didn’t hesitate. He nodded, surprising me.
“I’m taking Kat and Reeve with me,” I added. They weren’t ready for war, no, but I couldn’t drive and search and defend myself and patch injured slayers.
Even superheroes needed sidekicks.
“God save me,” he muttered, scrubbing a hand over his face. “After what happened with Ethan, Ankh will never allow you to put Reeve in Anima’s path.”
Ethan. My hands curled into fists. Reeve had dated Ethan before she’d started dating Bronx. He’d secretly worked for Anima, gleaning her secrets, our secrets, and ultimately leading to her kidnapping and my torture.
“I hate to break it to you,” I announced, “but what you said about Kat is true of Reeve, as well. She’s already in their path. Whether she’s with me or not, she’s in danger.”
He flashed a quick smile. “Save the arguments for Ankh.”
Mr. Ankh, the world’s most stubborn male. And that was saying something, considering Cole was in the running. “I will.” Now, to circle back to the start of our conversation. “Free the girls. I’ll take them to the house, and the three of us will do whatever’s necessary to get through to boss-man.”
“Free them yourself.” He pulled a chain from around his neck, a key dangling at the end, and tossed it at me. “I just came from the house, and I’m not going back.” His gaze swung to Nana. “I’m taking your grandmother out of state. For her protection,” he added with more volume.
Ah. Their earlier fight suddenly made sense.
Nana morphed from calm to practically spewing fire in the snap of fingers. “I told you before, but I’ll tell you again, because you are obviously hard of hearing. I’m not going anywhere. Did you understand that time? Anywhere.”
We’d see about that, too.
I cupped her cheeks, and stared into dark eyes so like my mother’s and little sister’s—eyes that both broke me and made me stronger. “You must,” I said gently. “For me.”
Astonishment wafted from her. She shook her head, uttering one succinct word. “No.”
“These people are ruthless, Nana. They kidnapped me, tortured me, and when they finished with me, they would have killed me in the most painful way possible. Yesterday, they did kill three of my friends.” Hot tears suddenly streaked down my cheeks. “They must be destroyed.”
“But—”
I cut her off with a firm “I know these people. They won’t hesitate to hurt you to get to me. So please. Please! Go with Mr. Holland. Stay safe so that I can stay focused.”
A beat of silence...another...each crackling with tension.
“I will go with him,” she said, surprising me. Then she added, “But only if you’ll come with us.” I heard the despair in her tone. “My husband is dead. My daughter is dead. My only other grandchild is dead. I can’t lose you, too.”
Destroying me. “Nana. If I don’t do this, you’ll lose me anyway. I won’t be...me.” I’d been born for this. I wasn’t afraid. I was ready.
“At least let me try to protect you.”
From the corner of my eye, I saw Mr. Holland pull a syringe from his pocket. Going to drug her like Mr. Ankh had drugged me? Oh, man. When she woke up, she would be tee-icked.
Worth it. I clasped her hands in mine. “I’m needed here,” I said, and she once again shook her head. “Only slayers can fight Anima and zombies. And you know we’ll be facing both.”
He gently struck.
Her eyes widened, and she gasped.
“Please understand,” I whispered, “and know that I’m truly sorry.”
“Ali...together...” Her lids closed, her head slumping forward. Her knees buckled.
Mr. Holland caught her before she hit the ground and cradled her against his chest.
“Stay with her,” I commanded, shoving a new wave of guilt in that mental box. “Take care of her. Guard her with your life.”
“I will.” His eyes were diamond-hard, cold and almost cruel. “I don’t want to go. I would be of help here. But I can’t fight the zombies. Plus, I’m out of practice, and you’re not, and I know Cole. I know he’d want your grandmother safe at any cost. Besides, I can work from the sidelines and text you anything I learn.”
“I won’t let anything happen to your son,” I replied softly.
He nodded, satisfied. “I’m not going to tell you where we’re going. It’ll be better if you don’t know.”
“Agreed.”
“This morning, I bought ten burner phones and gave them to Cole. He has my new number, and I have his. If anything happens, you call me.”
“You have my word.” I placed a soft kiss on Nana’s cheek and smoothed the hair from her brow. “Tell her I’ll call her at least once a day.”
He turned and stalked out of sight.
I missed her already.
I strode to the back room and unlocked the girls. The door was open only a crack when they bum-rushed me, pushing their way out. I stumbled backward as their gazes found me.
Reeve had been ready to fight, her hands balled into fists. Now she breathed a sigh of relief. “Ali. You’re all right.”
Kat had been ready to fight, as well, her eyes narrowed, her teeth bared in a fierce scowl. Her cheeks were paler than they’d been last night, the stress of the situation hell on her malformed kidneys.
“Ali!” she cried.
Before I could blink, the two were on me, hugging me, kissing my cheeks, crying on my shoulders.
“I’m so freaking scared,” Kat admitted. “This situation is so not cake. Mr. Ankh told us slayers were attacked last night, that Lucas and Trina... They were—” She gulped, unable to finish the sentence.
“I know,” I said, somehow speaking past my own trembling. I brought her hand to my cheek, needing to feel her skin against mine. She was here, and she was okay. “Cruz was... He was... He’s gone, too.”
Both girls tensed, and I knew they were wondering how many others had been taken from us...and how much loss we were going to suffer before this war ended.
“Have you seen Bronx?” Reeve asked.
“No. I’m sorry,” I replied, and her shoulders drooped. Then I gave her the comforting words Cole had given me. “He’s tough. He’s smart, and he’s been through hell and back and survived. This? This is nothing.”
“What about Frosty?” Kat said, shaking me. Her emotions were too much for her small figure to contain.
“I haven’t seen him, either,” I admitted. But if I knew the boys, and I did, they were frantic for news about their girls. They wouldn’t have gone far. “Don’t worry. We’ll find them.”
“Together,” she insisted. “Don’t try to send me home. I won’t go. I won’t! I’ve already called my dad, told him I’m spending the next few weeks with Reeve. Maybe even longer.”
Something wonderful about her father: he let her do anything she wanted.
“If you guys are in danger,” she continued, “I’m in danger, and I don’t want my dad caught up in it. Besides, if I stay, I can cancel my dialysis at the hospital and Mr. Ankh can do it here.”
I held up my hands, a gesture of acceptance. “I agree with you. Now let’s put on our big-girl panties and go convince Mr. Always Right that he’s seriously wrong.”
Chapter 5 (#ulink_dc01e7d7-ed09-5ec8-ac18-d84b8d5f4e74)
IMPOSSIBLE?
ONLY IMPOSSIBLE-ISH!
Reeve drove a golf cart through the dark, damp tunnel, all the way to the basement of her mansion. A place we’d often referred to as “the dungeon.” I expected Cole to be there, lying atop one of the many gurneys, feasting on egg whites and turkey bacon—that was healthy, right?—but he wasn’t. I ignored my twinge of disappointment.
A fingerprint ID allowed Reeve through another door and into the house itself. On our feet now, Kat and I followed her up a flight of creaky stairs we’d traversed too many times to count. Usually, at the top, all vestiges of dungeon vanished, replaced by the luxuries of massive wealth. Rich mahogany-trimmed walls. Plush carpets probably woven by enchanted fairies. Glossy antique furniture. Not today. Graffiti decorated the walls in a collage of every color imaginable.
Somewhere, a rainbow was weeping.
There were rips and holes in the carpets, and several pieces of the furniture were in pieces.
Had Anima trashed the place to give credence to the supposed gang war?
Yeah. Probably. Just one more crime to add to their ever-growing list.
Reeve pressed a button on the intercom. “Daddy. Where are you?” she asked, an edge to her tone.
“My office, princess,” he returned, his voice weary. “Ali, Cole’s in your bedroom and he’s been asking for you. I suggest you visit him before I’m forced to restrain him.”
I gave Kat and Reeve a hug and said, “Don’t tell Mr. Ankh what we’re planning. I’ll lead the conversation after I’ve seen Cole.” I pulled away.
I think they nodded. I was moving down the hall already, too quickly to keep track.
I flew up another flight of stairs, darted down a hallway, snaked a corner and raced into the bedroom. Instant surge of relief. The other piece of my soul was propped against the bed’s headboard, embraced by fluffy white pillows. His skin had a healthy tint, and the violet eyes I so adored were no longer glazed with pain, but bright and alert. His left arm was in a sling and his right had IV tubing running through his vein. His chest was half-covered by bandages.
“Ali.” His gaze heated as it locked with mine, and I would have sworn the earth tilted.
A second later, my surroundings faded—
—and suddenly Cole was stalking down a narrow corridor. Blood trickled from his lip.
I was slung over his shoulder, my fists beating at his back, my knees digging into his torso. “Let go,” I demanded.
“Never again,” he countered.
“You keep saying that. What do you want with me? What do you want from me?” As if I didn’t know him, sometimes better than I knew myself.
“I want what I’ve always wanted. Everything—”
—as suddenly as it had begun, the vision ended.
Because the world was tilting. I was falling, hitting my knees.
“Ali!” Cole threw his legs over the side of the bed.
“Stay where you are or you’ll rip out your IV! I’m okay.” I stood, shaking off the momentary flash of dizziness that had taken me down. Lingering effects of the sedative, I was sure.
Cole didn’t listen. He made to rise. I rushed to his side, easing onto the mattress, pressing my hip against his and pushing him to his back. For now, I didn’t care about the vision. We’d seen it weeks before, and we would see it again. We’d figure it out then.
“You should be used to girls falling at your feet,” I said.
He cracked the barest hint of a smile. “I’d rather have one girl standing beside me.”
Sweet-talker. “How are you?”
He twined his fingers with mine, lifted our joined hands and kissed my knuckles. “I’m better now that you’re here.”
Six little words, and yet my heart swelled with love. Were all guys so open about their feelings? So willing to admit when they needed, when they wanted...when they had to have or else?
“How’s your recovery?” I asked.
“Better than it should be. Nearly burning me alive was a good call.”
I donned a haughty air. “Did you ever doubt it?”
“Only all night and a little this morning.”
“So hardly at all.”
He cracked another smile. “Last night I was getting weaker, so I performed the fire trick on myself. Charged me right up. But had it not been for you, I wouldn’t have known to do it.”
“So you owe me.”
“Exactly. I pay in kisses.”
“Good thing I accept that currency.” I adored this playful side of him—and hated knowing it wouldn’t last. “Have you been told about Trina, Lucas and Cruz?” I asked softly.
“Yeah.” He scoured his other hand over his face. “But that’s not all. The gym burned down.”
Horror sped through me at full throttle. “Bronx. Mackenzie. They were there.”
He gave a clipped nod. “The good news is, no bodies were found inside.”
Okay. Okay, then. They’d either gotten away or been captured. Just like all the others.
Stomach cramp.
“We haven’t heard from anyone. News stations have been blasting stories about the attacks, but besides Cruz, no other murders have been reported.” I paused, mentally preparing myself for a fight. “I’m taking Kat and Reeve, and we’re going on a hunt.”
He surprised me by giving another nod. “That’s great.” Of course, he just had to add, “I’m going with you,” which deflated me.
“You need to stay in your sickbed for at least a month, the way you made me stay in mine.” I’d been recovering from a stab wound—one he had given me.
Don’t worry. It wasn’t domestic abuse or anything. He hadn’t done it on purpose.
“Try to keep me here. I dare you,” he said, then winked. A challenge? “You’ll end up beside me.”
“Oh, no. Not that. Anything but that,” I responded with a mock shudder.
“Smarty.” He tweaked the end of my nose. “Even on my worst day, with both hands tied behind my back, and no gun, I can shoot better than you.”
“Maybe so,” I said, practically dripping sweetness. “But you have no control over your swords.”
His eyes narrowed. “Low blow, Miss Bell. Very low blow.”
“I thought so.” I fluffed my hair.
“Does Ankh know what you’re planning with his precious?”
“Not yet.”
“Are you actually going to ask him for permission?”
“Well, yeah.” The girls and I could leave without his knowledge, sure. I was good at sneaking. But he would panic and go looking for his daughter, maybe get himself killed. I didn’t need the added guilt.
“He won’t just say no,” Cole said. “He’ll try to sedate you and lock you up.”
Yeah. Probably. “I’ve seen his work firsthand. But I’m onto his tricks now.” He wouldn’t catch me off guard a second time. “He’s just going to have to trust me and stop trying to surround Reeve with bubble wrap.”
“I get where he’s coming from,” Cole said, everything about him softening. “To Ankh, she is a reason for getting up in the morning, and there’s nothing more important to him. Without her, he might as well just curl up and die. And that, Miss Bell, is exactly how I feel about you.”
Oh, glory. Nana had destroyed me with her declaration, but Cole...Cole was utterly slaying me....
“There’s a difference between you and Mr. Ankh,” I said with a soft smile. “You know I can defend myself, and you trust me to make smart decisions. Isn’t that right, Mr. Holland?” Eew. No way I’d use the name reserved for his father.
Backtrack. “Mr. Cole.”
He tugged on a lock of my hair. “That’s right. Therefore, I will girl up, as Kat likes to say, since that’s apparently better than manning up, and I will let you go—”
“Wait. You’ll let me?” I interjected with attitude.
“—without a fight,” he finished. “Besides, I wasn’t asking if I could come with you. I was telling you I’d be by your side.”
Le sigh. His determination was kicking up a fuss again. “What’s your blood pressure? Do you have a temperature? Are you even steady on your feet?”
He smiled and said, “Reason number thirteen. You always ask way too many questions.”
Of all the things I’d expected him to say, that didn’t even come close. He definitely had to be feverish. “That’s a reason you love me?”
“See? Another question. But yes, it is. It’s charming.”
Well, he was the only one who thought so. Other people found it off-putting. And that was being kind!
I leaned over and kissed his brow, careful not to brush against his injury, then pressed my brow into his. “Don’t think the fact that you avoided discussing your condition has escaped my notice. But I’ll let it slide...and I’ll let you come with me. As long as you stay in the car.”
“Let me?”
“Oh, good. Your ears are working.”
The softness faded from his expression, fierce protectiveness taking its place—as well as cold-blooded aggression.
The aggression wasn’t directed at me, I knew, but at Anima.
“Let’s play a little game I like to call Cole’s in Charge and Ali’s Not.”
“Pass! Played it before, hated every second.”
The flash of another grin. “You know I think you hung the moon, right?”
“Right. Just like I know you held the ladder and looked up my skirt.”
“But you’re not going to talk me out of this,” he continued. “So, go down, speak with Ankh. I’ll get dressed.”
Stubborn boy. “I’d offer to take out your IV, but that would make me an enabler.”
“Won’t be the first time I’ve removed one myself.”
The Care and Feeding of an Alpha Male 101. Sometimes, you just had to humor them. “Fine. Have fun with that.”
“Don’t leave without me,” he commanded as I stood. “I mean it.”
“Fine, fine.” I held up my hands, all innocence. “I’ll wait for you to come downstairs.”
Moving as fast as lightning, he leaned forward and hooked me by the nape, tugging my face to his. He kissed me hard and fast—no innocent forehead peck for this boy, not this time—and I moaned at his ferocity. “Also, don’t even think about sedating me.”
“Fine,” I snapped. He was severely limiting my options.
I left the room and stalked down the stairs, texting Nana along the way. I just couldn’t help myself.
I love U. So much. One day, I hope U’ll 4give me.
She’d wake up...wherever, and the note would be waiting for her.
I sent her a second message. 1st update. I’ve seen Cole & he’s back 2 his bossy self. I’ve set Kat & Reeve free, & now I’m going 2 chat w/Ankh then find rest of slayers. I’ll B careful, swear!
Mr. Ankh and the girls were in the kitchen, eating sandwiches.
Not one to waste time, I explained my search and rescue plan while slapping together a PB&J. The conversation went better—and worse—than I’d hoped. Before I’d even finished, Mr. Ankh was shaking his head. I didn’t let that stop me, however. The fact was, I didn’t just need Kat and Reeve. They needed me. They’d rather die than stay behind.
“No,” he said. “You’re too recognizable. Anima will see you, follow you and then kill you all.”
I could suggest we spend a few hours dyeing our hair, altering our appearance, but even that wasn’t a guarantee we’d escape notice. “With this supposed increase of gang violence, the police will be everywhere. Anima wouldn’t dare try anything in public.” I hoped.
“It’s too dangerous,” he insisted. “Kat is sick. She needs rest and relaxation, not—”
“Hey! Don’t make me pimp-slap you, Dr. Jekyll and Mr. A. Because I will.” Kat raised her hand to prove she meant business. “I’m ready to roll.”
He pursed his lips, as if he’d just sucked on a lemon. “I’m not an unreasonable man.”
Ha!
“And I know the others need to be found. So, I’ll go with Ali, and you girls will stay here.”
Uh, that would be a big fat no. He played by the rules. We made our own. “Don’t worry. We’ll have a bodyguard. Cole is coming with us.”
“Cole? Hardly.” Mr. Ankh rubbed his forehead. To ward off an ache? “That boy needs rest just as much as Miss Parker does.”
“So he doesn’t need any, and he’s good to go?” Kat quipped.
“Tell that to him,” I said to Mr. Ankh, then hiked my thumb at Kat. “And her.”
He threw his arms up, all I’m the last sane man in the universe. “Why do I even bother? No one ever does as I recommend anyway.”
All right. I’d try this from a different angle. Hopefully one that wouldn’t give him a coronary. “Had you told everyone about the church,” I said, “this could have been avoided. But you didn’t.” Throwing blame. Maybe not the best route. But the truth was the truth, and I wasn’t going to sugarcoat it.
He glared at me. “After Justin betrayed us, I wasn’t sure who I could trust, and I wanted Reeve to have an escape that no one else knew about. You can’t fault me for that.”
I heard the guilt in his tone. The self-recrimination. “No. I can’t.”
I hadn’t been part of the group back when Justin started sharing slayer secrets with Anima. But I had been part of the group when his equally culpable twin sister was captured and tortured right alongside me, and he’d realized just how badly he’d screwed up. He’d helped us destroy an entire contingent of Anima soldiers.
“If you have a better idea for finding the others,” I said, after devouring the last of my sandwich, “I’ll do it.”
“Hey,” both girls bellowed in unison.
Mr. Ankh glared at me.
“Daddy,” Reeve said, “I’ve been training. I’m not helpless. And I want to help. I need to help. Don’t stand in my way. Let me act like the girl you raised me to be. Strong. Courageous. The girl you wished Momma had been.”
Her mother hadn’t been able to see the zombies, but still she’d feared them. That fear had grown...and grown...until she’d committed suicide.
My mind drifted to my own mother. Her family had come from a line of slayers, but she herself hadn’t been able to see the zombies, either. She’d been so beautiful. Short, with dark hair, eyes and skin. Just like my sweet Emma. When people had seen the three of us together, they’d assumed tall, fair me was adopted.
“Very well,” Mr. Ankh finally croaked. “Do what you think is best. But I want you back within these walls by ten. No later.”
I nodded, flabbergasted by his acceptance. I hadn’t even had to beg.
“If you’re saying yes just so you can blindside me with a sedative before I walk out the door,” Reeve said, deflating some of my triumph, “you should know that this is the last time I will ever trust you.”
He held her gaze for a long while, his eyelids slits, and I knew what he was thinking. First: Crap, she figured out my plan. Second: She’s not ready for this.
And he was right. She wasn’t.
In training, it was best to start with something easy, win and move on to something harder. Build your confidence and your skills. Reeve was still in the “easy” phase, and yet I expected her to remove her training wheels and slay a dragon?
So, I totally got Mr. Ankh’s fear. I simply wasn’t going to cave to it. We had a choice. Give up and let the enemy do worse, or rise up with what we had and go balls to the wall.
I was going balls to the wall. And if I lost, at least I’d go out in a blaze of glory.
“Fine,” he said, releasing a breath of defeat. He flattened his hands on the table—in an effort to avoid his needles, I was sure. “Go with Ali. Search.” His dark gaze slid to me and narrowed. “I’m holding you responsible for her safety. Kat’s, too.”
He wasn’t the only one.
Jaw clenched, he said, “There’s a car in the church parking lot you can use. It’s beaten up on the outside, but the engine purrs with more than a hundred ponies ready to run.”
Typical guy description.
I gave him a jaunty salute.
He marched off to his office, mumbling under his breath, and we marched to the armory.
By the time the girls and I finished loading up with weapons—daggers in our boots, sedatives in our purses, guns sheathed at our waists, extra bullets in our pockets, brass knuckles on our hands—Cole was dressed and ready, the IV nowhere in sight.
His cheeks were paler than before, indicative of the strain he’d just put himself through, as he handed each of us one of the burners. “My new number is already programmed in.”
“Sweet sling, Cole,” Kat said with her patented smile. “It only knocks three points off your alpha-male card.”
His response was dry. “I’m sure spanking a naughty little girl like you will return my number to its original glory.”
Kat’s wide gaze immediately swung to me. “You didn’t tell me that your boyfriend had a pain-and-punishment fetish.”
“You didn’t ask. But yeah, he does. I’m threatened with a spanking daily.”
“Lucky,” she whispered, skipping past me, heading toward the entrance to the secret passage.
We climbed in the golf cart, Reeve at the wheel.
“Where do you want to go first?” she asked. “When we’re topside, I mean.”
“I...don’t know,” I said. There were too many options. Gavin’s car. Was it still there? Frosty’s house. Justin and Jaclyn’s house. Actually, any of the slayers’ homes.
“Then it doesn’t matter which road we take,” Kat pointed out. “With nowhere to go, we’ll never reach a destination.”
A nice way of saying make a decision already, dummy.
“We’ll go to Cole’s gym.” Or what was left of it. Any slayers on the run might have gone there. Might have stuck close by after the fire had died, hoping other slayers would show up.
Reeve parked at the back of the room, the one with the gurneys, and we walked to the ladder.
“What happens if we get separated?” she asked.
Hope for the best, plan for the worst. “If you can, get your butts back here. If you can’t, hide and call me. If you lose your phones, don’t panic. I’ll find you. Whatever it takes.”
But I couldn’t help wondering if I’d just made the worst decision of my life.
Chapter 6 (#ulink_6de8a19e-eba1-569c-9a57-ff3e6e65ad67)
EAT YOUR HEART OUT
The gym was a pile of charred rubble, as expected, but the sight of it made my heart fester and ooze with an infected wound in need of tending. Shouldn’t be this way. The air, heavy with smoke, painted the surrounding landscape an eerie gray. There was something very postapocalyptic about it. As if we were the only survivors and we now had to figure out how to navigate a new world.
At least there wasn’t a rabbit cloud.
The authorities had already come and gone, leaving barricades behind.
Reeve hid our car at the side of another house. The gym was—had been—a large red barn planted in the middle of a neighborhood with homes spaced apart by acres of wheat and surrounded by a forest.
Any one of my friends could be waiting in the forest. Possibly injured.
Possibly being hunted.
“Reeve, you’re with Cole,” I said, taking charge. “Kat, you’re with me.”
“Prison rules?” Kat asked. “Kill first and ask questions later?” She withdrew a .38 revolver. It had no safety, but it did have a laser at the end to help her sight whatever she wanted to hit. Plus, the trigger was coiled tighter to prevent her from shooting accidentally.
Yeah. It had happened. She startled easily.
Reeve pulled a .22 from her purse. The gun had very little backlash, was more likely to irritate a target than kill it, but with halfway decent aim, she would be able to slow even the biggest of men.
“Actually, we’re going by Holland rules,” Cole said. “The best safety is this.” He wiggled his index finger in front of their faces. “Don’t put yours near the trigger unless you’re ready to fire. Side note. You aren’t ready to fire unless Ali or I say you’re ready.”
“But keep your weapons out and ready,” I added.
Cole kissed me before we disembarked, sending a warm pulse through me. With the girls at our sides, we ran toward the forest, tree limbs seeming to go out of their way to slap us. When we were deep enough inside that we were concealed from prying eyes, everyone slowed and moved in the direction of the gym.
“Ready to split up?” I asked. “You guys come in from the west, and we’ll come in from the east. We’ll cover more ground.”
“Sounds good.” Cole held out his arm, stopping me. Which in turn stopped the girls. His gaze pierced me. “Don’t get hurt. I mean it.”
“As if I’d dare. But you’d better be careful, too. You aren’t just a pretty decoration for the world to enjoy, you know. You’re my decoration.”
“And you’re my toy.”
We shared a look ripe with amusement and promise before branching apart.
“You guys are weird,” Kat said, “but the good news is, Cole is probably stronger than ninety-nine percent of the population, even with his arm in a sling.”
“A perfect description for Frosty, too.”
“True story.” Worry in her eyes, quickly extinguished.
With every exhalation, mist formed in front of my face. A signal trained trackers would pick up on, but it couldn’t be helped. We made our way to the east side of the gym and...saw footprints! Excitement mingled with hope, filling me up and giving me new purpose. Who had made them? Bronx or Mackenzie?
But...why not both? Why was there only one set?
Some of my excitement drained.
“Come on.” We followed the prints for a few yards. They were big. Too big to belong to Mackenzie. One—the right one—dragged. And there was a drop of blood beside that one...and that one. Bronx, if that’s who had left these, was injured.
I stepped through one line of bush after another, remaining on alert, my .44 at the ready. The drops were getting thicker, and I thought the person responsible must have begun to drag his other foot, too...only to stop. I looked around. Saw nothing. Up. Down. Left. Right. Where the heck—
“There!”
My excitement returned in an instant. He’d camouflaged himself with mud and leaves, and if not for the green of his eyes, I would have missed him. He was leaning against the tree, and “he” wasn’t Bronx. He was Gavin.
Kat and I rushed to his side. He didn’t respond. He was still, too still, his head resting on his shoulder. On closer inspection, blood was clearly mixed with the dirt, and my heart sank. His mouth was tinted blue, and, despite the cold, his teeth weren’t chattering.
My hand shook as I felt for his pulse....
“Please, tell me he’s alive,” Kat pleaded.
“Yes,” I nearly shouted. “He is.”
“Thank God!” She exhaled with relief. But she was paler than she’d been a moment ago, and I wasn’t sure if the problem was stress or her kidneys. Or both.
“Gavin,” I said, gently patting his cheeks, willing my warmth into him. “You’ve got to help us get you to your feet. We may be strong, but we’re not strong enough to carry you to safety fireman-style, so you’ve got to walk. Come on, Barbie. Please. Do it for your favorite cupcake.”
He didn’t even blink.
Very well. We’d do this the hard way. The riskier way. The same way I’d helped Cole.
“Watch my back,” I told Kat. “In a few seconds, Gavin might grunt or scream. Don’t touch him. Don’t touch me.” She wasn’t a slayer. She wouldn’t be able to see me in spirit form, and she wouldn’t be able to feel my fire—until it was too late, and she was dead.
She didn’t bother asking questions. Trusting me, she got into position behind Gavin, on the alert for any signs of an ambush.
I closed my eyes, drew in a deep breath. Held it, held. As I exhaled, my spirit emerged. I quaked from the newest increase of cold, ice crystals buying prime real estate in my chest.
“Light,” I commanded my hand.
This time, it did not obey.
Okay. So. Starting a fire was going to be difficult this go-round. Noted.
But I didn’t give up. Strength to summon the flames came by faith. A spiritual weapon for a spiritual power source. I didn’t allow myself to worry, either. Worry actually weakened faith.
“I can do this,” I said. “I will do this. Now. Now! Now!”
Words were another spiritual weapon. They could be used for my good or my bad. Positive or negative. Today, I focused on the positive and flames sprang from the ends of my fingers, slowly spreading to my wrist. Slow. Not what I was used to, but okay. I could work with this.
Unsure of Gavin’s injuries, I pressed my hand into his chest—his sluggish heart.
He didn’t ash, thank God, but he did unleash a broken scream, his back bowing. At any other time, the sound of his pain might have made me flinch. Now? I smiled.
I maintained the contact for several seconds before withdrawing, dismissing the flames and returning to my body.
“You can touch us now,” I told Kat.
Gavin groaned.
“Good boy,” I said, wanting to dance and sing. I hadn’t lost him. “I know it hurts, but you’re stronger than a little pain, right? And if not, well, you’ll soon get to enjoy Mr. Ankh’s vast array of drugs, so it won’t matter.”
He tried to focus on me, but his eyes were rocking back and forth, unable to stay locked on any one object. A sign of dizziness. “Ali?”
“Yeah, I’m here.”
“Kat, too.” She moved to his left, squeezed his hand.
“Kat, I need you to text Cole,” I said. “Tell him to return to the car, that we’ve found Gavin, and he’s hurt pretty bad.”
“On it,” she said, withdrawing her phone.
Now for the hard part. “We can help you, Barbie, but we need you to stand.”
He didn’t act as if he’d heard me. “Wreck...was chased, shot at...ran, lost tail...got to gym...fire...”
“I know. Everyone but Cole is missing,” I said as gently as possible. I’d tell him about the deaths after he was stabilized.
“Frosty,” he said, then grimaced and clutched his side.
Kat pocketed her phone and pinched his chin, forcing him to face her. “What about him? Have you seen him?”
“Ali,” he repeated, as if he hadn’t heard her. “Help.”
Disappointment could have felled her, but my friend squared her shoulders, determined to motor on.
I was beyond proud of her. “Let’s get him to Mr. Ankh.”
With a major effort from both of us, we finally maneuvered him to his feet. As he swayed, we positioned ourselves under his arms, becoming his crutches. Had to be a comical sight, two sticks trying to balance a grade-A manimal. My legs juddered under his weight, and I’m sure Kat’s did, too.
As we lumbered forward, Gavin said, “Saw...Frosty. He came to gym...men chased us...he led them away...from me...but not before he told me...meet him...Wok and Roll.”
Kat practically bubbled over with exhilaration, and I didn’t have to wonder what she was thinking. The Wok and Roll was a twenty-four-hour Chinese buffet only a few blocks from here, and if Frosty was still there, waiting for Gavin, she could be in his arms within the next half hour.
Cole and Reeve paced beside the car. Spotting my ragtag trio, Cole rushed over and took Kat’s place. Reeve opened the back.
“Any sign of Anima on your end?” I asked.
“Not one.”
Together, we got Gavin settled inside. I straightened, stepped back and said, “Take him directly to your house, Reeve, rather than the church.” Gavin might blow an artery if he had to climb into the tunnel. “But call your dad on the way and let him know you’re coming. He’ll do something to ensure Anima isn’t nearby, watching.”
She nodded. “Done and done.”
Kat took my hand, tugged. “Ali and I are heading to the Wok and Roll. Frosty might be there, waiting for Gavin.”
“Uh, Kat.” I planted my heels. Hello tricky, sticky situation. “You’re going with Reeve.”
“What? No.” She gave a shake of her head, drawing attention to the fact that she was paler than before. “No way. No how.”
Yes way. Yes how. “You’re not objective when it comes to Frosty.” More than that, he’d had Anima on his tail. Could be with Anima right now. Not only would Mr. Ankh disapprove of me taking her into a situation far more dangerous than this one, but Frosty would also. “I need you to listen—”
“No.” She stomped her foot. “You listen. I’m going!”
O-kay. I suddenly understood why Cole was as hard-core as he was. Arguing with your allies wasted precious time. “Kat. Please. Be reasonable.”
Cole didn’t give her a chance to respond. “Two choices. You’ll do what she says.” In full commander mode, he added, “Or you’ll do what she says. Feel me?”
Her eyes narrowed to tiny slits, the patent stillness of a predator coming over her. “Oh, I feel you all right. Now you’re about to feel me.”
He flattened his good hand on the car, caging her against the metal, leaning down to get into her face. “You want to try something? Go ahead.”
Ding, ding. Round one of The Bloodbath has begun.
“Gavin could be bleeding out right this minute.” I glared at one, then the other. “We could have targets on our backs. Get in the car and go, Kat.”
Still she shook her head, stubborn to the bitter end. “I’m going after Frosty. That’s final.”
I looked to Cole. He was practically hemorrhaging determination. Hard decisions came with hard consequences—he was getting ready to make one. One of us would have to go with her, and we both knew it.
“It’s time for you to prove number seven.” That he would stand back and let me fight. “You’re injured. I’m not. I’ll be the one to find Frosty.”
I expected an argument. Instead, he gave me a clipped nod and grabbed Kat by the waist, hauling her inside the car, holding her down. She fought like, well, an alley cat, hissing, clawing, scratching, and it tore me up inside. Every fiber of my being screamed to help her, to stop this, to give her what she wanted, but I didn’t. Sometimes what we wanted wasn’t what we needed. I would apologize later, and she would have to forgive me...because Frosty would be with me.
Please, let him be with me.
I stored my .44 at my waist (safety on). As the car sped away from the curb, tires squealing, my gaze collided with Cole’s, and through the window, we experienced a moment of total understanding. He’d do whatever was necessary to protect the girls. Even at the cost of his own life.
It had better not come to that.
The second the vehicle was out of sight, I sprinted into the forest, heading toward the shopping center where the Wok and Roll was located. The activity helped loosen my regret, and I began to warm, my blood rushing faster and faster through my veins.
Eventually, gnarled trees gave way to a paved road. I went up a hill, down a hill, through another neighborhood, careful to study every passing car, before finally reaching my destination. My lungs burned. Despite the cold, beads of sweat rolled down my spine.
It was Saturday, and shoppers were out in droves. Building after building stretched on both sides of me, each peppered with stores and restaurants. Being around so many people unnerved me. Anyone could be with Anima, just waiting to strike.
Strike and die.
A bell tinkled over the door as I entered the buffet. The scent of fried meat immediately assaulted me, and I almost hurled.
Only one other customer was there. A middle-aged man who definitely wasn’t Frosty, and I highly doubted he was with Anima. He had to be one egg roll away from a heart attack.
Frustration cut at me. Enraged Kat for nothing.
No, no. Maybe Frosty had taken off, but had plans to return.
There was still hope.
A bright-eyed hostess approached me, smiling a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “How many?”
Could she be with Anima? “Just one.”
She led me to a table in the center of the room.
“In back, please.”
Shoulders stiff, she moved to the booth hidden by a huge aquarium and arched a brow, a silent is this good enough for princess?
“Perfect.” I scooted into my seat, accidentally on purpose brushing against her to feel for weapons. Nothing. “Thank you.”
Her lips compressed as she set a menu in front of me and took off.
I pulled out my phone and texted Cole. Frosty isn’t here. Gonna wait N case he comes back. Has Kat calmed down?
Cole: Kat—no. U—DON’T WAIT LIKE SWEET LITTLE TARGET, GO HOME.
Swear I heard his irritated voice reverberating through my mind. He’d let me do this, and now he regretted it. Figured.
Me: News flash, Holland. ALL CAPS DOES NOT INTIMIDATE ME.
Cole: IT SHOULD. THE WRATH OF C.H. IS NOT A PRETTY THING.
Me: Bite me.
Cole: This just in—I will. W/pleasure. But I want U 2 come back & get me. Currently there R no other cars available. BTW this is nonnegotiable.
Me: Sorry, babe, but this was an FYI exchange & not a solicitation 4 orders. U can use the time apart 2 negotiate this. (I used an emoticon to flip him off.)
Cole: So that’s a soft yes?
Good glory. I put the phone away, before he distracted me from my purpose. More than he already had.
Think! Even if Frosty had plans to come back to the Wok and Roll, he wouldn’t have gone very far. Unless he was forced. He would probably move from shop to shop, where he could watch the restaurant’s front door for Gavin without allowing anyone to get a lock on him.
But...if that was true, he would have spotted me and come racing over.
“Know what you want to order?” asked the hostess—waitress now—when she reappeared at my table.
“Hey, was there a fight in here today? Any kind of yelling match?” Any hint that my friend had been spotted?
Her brow furrowed with confusion. “No. Why?”
Rather than answer, I threw a twenty on the table. “Never mind. I’ve got to go.”
She didn’t try to stop me as I stalked outside. I leaned against the brick wall, as if taking a moment to warm myself against the cutting breeze. Really, I was scanning the shops across the way. Clothes. Clothes. Coffee. Shoes. Bakery. Cloth—
Coffee.
He could stay there longest, without drawing notice.
I rushed over and entered the warmth and deliciousness of the caffeine-scented shop. I studied the occupants, my nerves about to reach the breaking point, and—
Found him!
Joy. Such profound joy. He was in the corner, looking out the glass window. He’d hidden his pale hair under a hat. The coat he wore had to be stolen, because I’d never seen him wear it, and it wasn’t his size. It was also pink with purple flowers.
I walked to Frosty’s table, pulled out a chair.
“Get lost—” Relief eroded all hints of anger. He leaned toward me. “Thank God it’s you. Tell me everything you know. Start with information about Kat.”
“She’s alive and well and desperate to see you.”
He closed his eyes, one of which was black, and sagged against the table. “You have no idea how badly I want to see her, too, but when I searched Ankh’s place last night, she was gone.”
“There’s a secret passage that leads from Ankh’s to an underground facility,” I said. “She was staying there.”
“Was?”
“As of this morning, she’s back at Ankh’s. He’s refortified the security.”
Frosty’s hand curled into a fist. “I’ve been so worried....”
“I know,” I said, patting that fist. “Why didn’t you come to the Wok and Roll when I arrived?”
He frowned. “I didn’t see you.”
“But you were supposed to meet Gavin there.”
“No. I was supposed to meet him at the coffee shop across from the Wok and Roll.”
I’d blame Gavin’s confusion on blood loss.
“Is he okay?” Frosty asked, an edge to his tone.
He expected bad news. “He will be,” I said, determined. “Right now, he’s in pretty bad shape. Cole, too, though he’s doing much better. He was shot.” Keep it together. “They’re both with Mr. Ankh.”
“Good. That’s good.” A grim cast overshadowed his expression. “Cruz is—”
“Yeah. I know.” The sting of tears. Shut down the waterworks. Now. “Trina and Lucas, too.”
He ground his fists into his eyes. “What about the others?”
“I wish I knew. You haven’t heard or seen anything?”
“Only that Justin and Jaclyn are missing.”
Had the twins been kidnapped? Or were they dead?
Jaclyn and I weren’t the best of friends, but we were no longer enemies. I hated the thought of her out there, suffering—or worse.
“I planned to give Gavin five more minutes,” Frosty said. “Then I was going to head out and start searching for the others.”
More proof that ticking clocks sucked. Had I arrived a few minutes later, I would have missed him. “What happened last night? With you, I mean.”
Bleakly, he said, “I was at home, in bed but still awake. I heard a squeak and tried to sit up. A hard hand slapped over my mouth, and a needle jabbed into my neck. It was an instant mind-screw. I was dizzy. I was weak and compliant. The guy must have drugged my guardians, too, because he was able to get me downstairs and out the front door without their interference. Then he made the mistake of putting me in the front seat of his car. The moment the dizziness eased, I was able to force him off the side of the road, get out and head for the gym.”
“But it was already burning to the ground,” I confirmed.
“I noticed armed men chasing an injured Gavin and did my best to gain their attention. I succeeded, but it took almost two hours to lose them and another two to make it to Ankh’s. I kept passing out. Then I came here.”
So. Anima hadn’t wanted to kill Frosty. But they’d certainly wanted to kill Cole. Why?
What was their plan? Their purpose?
“Do you know where any of the others might have hidden?” Bronx. Mackenzie. Veronica. Collins.
“Bronx...maybe. I was going to check a meeting place of ours when I left here.”
“I’ll go with you. Just need to tell Cole what’s going on.”
“He micromanaging?”
“Something like that.”
I texted Cole and Kat at the same time. Found Frosty. He’s alive & well. We have lead on Bronx. More soon. & Kat...I’m sorry. I will make it up 2 U, swear!
Cole’s response came seconds later. Keep me updated.
Kat’s came a few seconds after that, and only after I’d read it did I chill. Bring my boy toy home & all will B 4given.
Oh, how I loved that girl. She wasn’t going to hold a grudge or even yell at me.
“So,” Frosty said as we stood. “I have to ask you a personal question, because our next move hinges on your answer.”
I tensed, unsure about what he could possibly want to know. “Ask.”
“How do you feel about stealing cars?”
Chapter 7 (#ulink_232846b8-962e-5b7f-a9c8-1908e10897e5)
KEEP CALM AND
CARRY A GUN
Fact: life is a giant classroom and every day is an opportunity to learn something new.
Fact: you have to be prepared for pop quizzes, because they can come from anywhere or anyone.
Also fact: I wished I’d called in sick today.
What I learned from Professor Frosty? How to properly boost cars. The guy could do wicked things with a single piece of wire.
“I’m a criminal now,” I lamented as we soared down the highway. Killing in self-defense didn’t count. “I’m an accomplice. A thief.”
“Actually,” he said smoothly, “you’re a freelance valet. All you’re doing is moving a car from one location to another. There’s nothing wrong with that, now, is there?”
I snorted, humor momentarily overcoming my reservations. “Freelance valet?”
He hiked his shoulders. “Just go with it.”
Why not? “So, how’d you learn to do it, anyway?”
“I’ll tell you, but you can’t ball like a baby. You’ll want to, because it’s tragic. Like, break your heart and—”
“I get it. No one has ever suffered like you. Go on.”
He huffed and puffed for a minute. “Does Cole know you’re made of ice?”
“Yes. He likes to melt me.”
“Anyway. It’s like this. I’ve been able to see zombies since birth. I cried all the time. After a while, my dad couldn’t take it and left. My mom was on her own and had to be the one to calm me down every time I screamed about monsters. It freaked her out, and she put me through all kinds of medical and psychiatric tests she couldn’t afford. No one could figure out what was wrong with me, and by the time she had a new boyfriend, she couldn’t take the constant stress anymore, so she gave me to my aunt and uncle. I started hanging with the wrong crowd.” He studied my face longer than necessary, considering he was behind the wheel of a car. Checking for tears?
I admit, I was tempted to offer one or two in supplication. He’d been abandoned. Forgotten. But I held them back and lifted my chin. “I’m sorry you went through that. I am. But everyone comes with baggage. Did I ever tell you about the time I lost my entire family in a car crash?”
He barked out a laugh. “You and Kat, man. You’re, like, the only girls on the planet capable of surprising me. I expect sympathy, you give me lip service. It’s kind of nice.”
A bit of a backhanded compliment, sure, but I’d take it. “So, what happened to your mom?”
His fingers tightened on the wheel, a testament to his discomfort. “She visited me a few times, and now that I can drive, I have an open invitation to visit her, but she has a new family now, so...”
Even more heartbreaking. I threw him a bone and changed the subject. “How’d you meet Cole?”
Now his lips curved into a naughty smile. “You familiar with prison rules, Ali-gator?”
Stupid nicknames. They were the equivalent of verbal fungus. You couldn’t ever get rid of them. “Somewhat. According to Kat, there’s only one. Kill now, ask questions later.”
“Actually, there are ten. But the first and most important is this—whenever you’re the new kid, flat-out annihilate the current king, and no one will ever mess with you. Well, when I moved to Cole’s district, he was the current king, so I challenged him in front of everyone. He knocked me out flat, then helped me up. We’ve been friends ever since.”
“Brothers at first punch,” I said, and he nodded.
“Something like that.”
I wondered how many other kids were out there, able to see zombies but uneducated about the truth.
My dad had been able to see zombies, though he hadn’t known what they were. As a boy, he’d watched one murder his mother. Over the years, his fear of them had only grown...and grown...until he’d later turned to alcohol and locked my little sister and me away.
But then, that’s what fear did. That’s the destructive power it wielded, and that’s why I was so determined to resist it, no matter what was going on.
Sometimes, though, my determination wavered—and it usually revolved around one person.
“Can I ask you a question?” I said.
“Isn’t that what you’ve been doing?”
Har har. “Kat’s kidney disease.”
A beat of taut silence. “Waiting for the question.”
“Is there anything we can do?”
“You think I haven’t researched? Made appointments just to talk to specialists about her?”
“And there’s nothing?”
“Nothing,” he repeated hollowly.
I peered out the window, silent. Basically, Kat’s death was just a waiting game. A ticking clock that would soon zero out.
“Let’s talk about something else,” he said, taking a corner faster than I liked. “Like the current sitch. Anima has had multiple opportunities to come after us like this, but they never have. I mean, the time they had you, Kat and Reeve locked up we wouldn’t have fought to kill, because we would have been afraid they’d hurt you girls in retaliation. So, I have to ask myself. Why now?”
Good question. “Let’s take a look at what we know. They’ve been working on ways to control the zombies, to steer the creatures to attack anyone standing in the way of their research. And they hope to use the zombie toxin to create a serum for eternal life, without consequences, and supposedly save mankind from disease and death, but in the meantime, they don’t mind experimenting on and killing innocent people.”
Frosty thought for a moment. “What if they’ve succeeded?”
“You suspect...what? That they want us out of the picture, so that there will be no one able to stop what they’re doing, because no one will know about it.”
“Exactly.”
Then the situation did not bode well for us. Because Anima would strike again. And soon, while we were injured and weakened.
I could almost hear a countdown in my head. The tick tock, tick tock I could never escape.
My hands curled into fists. Calm. Steady.
No fear, remember?
Frosty stopped in the school parking lot. Asher High. Home of the Tigers. (Go Tigers!) I frowned. There were several other vehicles there, so ours didn’t stand out. But...
“You think Bronx came here?” I asked.
“Maybe.”
Well, okay, then. That was good enough for me.
We entered the building—the doors were unlocked, saving us from committing another crime. We stuck to the shadows as we wandered down the halls. I kept a hand on the inside of my purse, my fingers curled around the hilt of one of my daggers. Just in case. No one jumped out at us and we were able to enter room 213 without incident.
But...dang it! There was no sign of Bronx. I wanted to stomp my foot.
“You contemplating throwing a hissy?” Frosty closed in on the chalkboard. “There’s no need. I was right. He’s been here.”
I looked left, right. Saw nothing. “How do you know?”
Frosty motioned to the chalkboard. “He left me a message.”
I read the words scribbled across it. Love me. Hurt me. At midnight. Party like rock stars.
O-kay. “What does it mean?”
“Take the first word of each sentence. Love hurt. At party. Meaning, Mackenzie Love is hurt and he’s got her...where?”
Crap. How bad were her injuries?
“They’re at...a party-supply warehouse? Doubtful.” He was mumbling now, clearly talking to himself, trying to reason things out. “A place we partied? More likely. But he wouldn’t have picked just any place. He would have... Someplace I’d remember... The last place? Yes, yes, yes. I know where he is!”
My heart drummed with excitement. “Then let’s go.”
* * *
We ended up in a run-down neighborhood about fifteen miles out of Birmingham. After wiping our prints, we ditched the car—maybe someone else would decide to do a little freelance valeting, moving it out of the area entirely—and hiked to the worst house of the lot.
It had peeling paint, broken shutters and cracked windows. Pieces of shingle hung from the side of the roof. The planks of wood on the porch released a death rattle as we walked to the door.
Frosty knocked. A shadow soon crept over the bottom of the door, and I knew someone was looking out the peephole.
“About time,” an unfamiliar voice said. Hinges released a high-pitched whine as the dilapidated entrance swung open. A petite brunette with a patchwork of pink scars on one side of her face moved out of the way, allowing Frosty to sail past her.
“Where are they?” he demanded.
“Back room.”
I started to follow after him, but the girl stepped into my path, blocking me. I had to look down...down...down.... She barely topped five feet. She was young, no more than fourteen. And she was spunky cute, with dark green eyes gleaming with fierce protectiveness.
“Who the hell’s your friend?” she called to Frosty. Her narrowed gaze never left me.
“That’s Ali. Let her in.”
Her features pinched with distaste. “So you’re the infamous Ali Bell, are you?”
Great. What had she been told about me? Her sneering tone suggested I was so evil, the devil had actually sold his soul to me.
I nodded. “I am. And you are?”
“Juliana, Veronica’s younger sister. What of it?” All attitude, no finesse.
My chest clenched with nearly unbearable longing to see my own little sister. Emma hadn’t visited me in weeks. Where was she?
The last time we’d spoken, she’d told me our connection was thinning and we would be seeing each other less often. I’d taken that to mean once, maybe twice, a week. I wish I’d known “less often” could actually mean “never again.” I would have hugged her harder, longer. Perhaps never let go.
“May I come in?” I asked softly.
“Whatever.” Juliana stiffly angled to the side. I entered the house and took stock.
No pictures hung on the walls. The furniture was well used, but patched and polished. There wasn’t a TV or computer, but a vase containing fresh flowers sat on the coffee table. A sweet, floral scent perfumed air that would have been musty otherwise.
I’d had no idea Veronica, my greatest frenemy, had a younger sister. Or that they were, apparently, living in abject poverty. Poverty, and yet, Bronx had felt it was safe to come here, even though it wasn’t safe to be at any other slayer’s house. So, this house must have escaped Anima’s notice. But how?
And what about the party Frosty had mentioned? It had been held here? Why? And when? Had Cole attended?
Why hadn’t I been invited?
Ugh. The last was asked in a disgusting whine. As if any of that crap mattered in the wake of such devastation.
“Where are your parents?” I asked. Voices seeped from the hall. I would give Juliana a few more minutes to invite me back, and then I was going on my own, rude or not.
“Dead,” she said in a snippy tone.
“I’m sorry.”
“Sure you are. For an encore, why don’t you ask me how I got the scars?”
Okay. “How’d you get the scars?”
She blinked in astonishment, her mouth hanging open. Clearly, she hadn’t expected me to do it. “I was burned.” Her words lashed like a whip. “Not that it’s any of your businesses.”
“Hey,” I said, palms up in a gesture of innocence, “you offered.” And wow, I suddenly felt guilty for treating Veronica so craptastically when I’d first met her. She hadn’t exactly had an easy life.
But then, like I’d told Frosty, none of us had. We were all hurting in some way.
Juliana glanced at her feet, shifted from one side to the other, then looked up at me. “Have you heard from Cole?” she asked, her tone now grudging.
“He was shot, but he’s on the mend.”
Relief she couldn’t hide; it was clear she genuinely cared for him.
Get in line.
All right, so, it was time to check on my friends. Without another word, I stalked down the hall.
“Hey! You can’t go back there.” Juliana stayed close to my heels. “This isn’t your house.”
I opened one door, found it empty save for a single twin mattress and a blanket and kept going. There was only one other room...and that’s where I found everyone. Three twin-size mattresses were propped on the floor. Mackenzie was sprawled across the one on the left, Bronx the one in the center and Veronica the one on the right.
Mackenzie was asleep. Dark curls spilled around pallid skin. Her lips were raw from being chewed, and there were several abrasions on her face. The hem of her shirt bunched over her middle, and I could see the bandage wrapped around her waist.
Bronx and Veronica were awake and alert.
He looked healthy, propped up against the wall, one hand cupping the back of his neck, the other resting at his side. His dark hair, died green at the tips, was mussed. The piercings in his eyebrow and lower lip gleamed in the light. No visible cuts or bruises.
“She was stabbed,” he said, his teeth clenched with anger. Anima should be very afraid. Of all the slayers, he was the most uncivilized, and I’d always suspected humanity had become a facade he sometimes wore. “I don’t think our attackers expected anyone to be at the gym. There were two of them, and when they broke in, we heard them. We moved to the shadows, watching, waiting. When we realized they were pouring gasoline on everything, we tackled them. She was stabbed, a match was lit and one of the guys was able to run away.”
I walked to her bed and sat at the edge, my hip touching hers. Gently I smoothed a hand down her cheek. Tremors struck me. My limbs were growing heavier by the minute. My adrenaline must be crashing. I might not have the strength to push out my spirit and light up.
“Frosty,” I said. “Can you light up?”
“Yeah. Why?”
“Because you’re going to put your fire inside Mackenzie’s wound.”
In unison, everyone in the room belted out a refusal.
“Like hell he is!”
“Are you insane? The answer is no!”
“That’s so not happening.”
“Zip it,” I said, and miracle of miracles, they obeyed. “Remember when I was sick? You guys healed me with your fire.”
“Yeah, but you were part zombie,” Bronx said. “She isn’t. The fire will help her spirit and harm everything else.”
“Not true. The two are connected. What injury one sustains, the other sustains. So why can’t the opposite be true?”
Silence.
“Look, I’ve done it to Cole. He’s even done it to himself, and he’s now on his feet. Just a little while ago, I did it to Gavin. He strengthened almost instantly.”
“Hold up.” Veronica’s tone was as hard as granite. “You’re telling us you put Cole and Gavin at risk? That you weren’t a hundred percent certain what would happen, but you did it anyway?”
In a nutshell, yes. But... “They were already at risk,” I pointed out.
Mackenzie moaned, as if the argument had disturbed whatever restful state she’d managed to achieve.
“Do it, Frosty,” I commanded.
“You ain’t his boss,” Juliana barked.
He rubbed his knuckles in the crown of the girl’s head. “Thanks for the backup, squirt, but I’ve got this one.” He strode to Mackenzie’s bed.
Juliana’s gaze threw daggers laced with hate at me.
I dismissed her, saying to Frosty, “Don’t wuss out. Do it.”
“You better be right about this,” he muttered. Out flowed his spirit, flames crackling at the end of his fingers.
He touched Mackenzie, and she gasped, clearly pained. He tensed to draw back.
“Don’t,” I said. “Don’t sever contact until she screams.”
He bared his teeth in a fierce scowl.
A moan slipped from Mackenzie...another. Her head thrashed against the pillow.
“Ali,” Frosty groaned.
“Just a little longer.”
Then Mackenzie opened her mouth and screamed. She batted at Frosty’s hand, but because he was a spirit, and she wasn’t, she couldn’t touch him. Couldn’t stop him.
He stepped back, and she sagged against the mattress. I leaned over her, looking for any change. Her color was returning, pink flooding into her cheeks, and the dark circles under her eyes were fading.
That. Quickly.
A lady never smirks.
Since when have I ever been a lady?
I smirked.
Frosty rolled his eyes. “We get it. You told us so.”
And don’t you forget it! I looked to Bronx. “Are you hurt?” Should Frosty torch him, too?
“I’ve got a few bumps,” he said, “but I’m fine.”
My gaze shifted to Veronica.
“I’m fine, too,” she said.
Her green eyes were bright with worry. Her dark hair was tangled, grass and twigs woven into the strands. Even still, she was a beautiful sight. Physically flawless—Cole’s perfect counterpart. Which was probably why they’d dated.
Yes. Cole had gotten around...and around.
“Someone clue me in,” I said. “How is this place a secret?”
Veronica ran her tongue over her teeth. “Jules and me are off grid. I don’t buy or rent anything under my own name. Only the guys here...and Cole...know where we live.” Like a guilty suspect during interrogation, she looked away from me.
Cole had known and hadn’t told me. Me, his girlfriend. His one and only.
I had no words.
No, that wasn’t actually true. I had a lot of words—for myself. I wasn’t a jealous girl. Either Cole was mine or he wasn’t. End of story. Either I trusted him or I didn’t.
But he’d broken up with me for several weeks, and he’d spent those bachelor days with Veronica. He hadn’t cheated on me, considering we’d been over, but it had certainly felt like it. Because they’d done things. Things I didn’t like to think about.
Things he now refused to do with me.
So, yeah, I kind of wanted to claw her face off and spit in her skull.
Graphic much? Straitlaced Ali piped up.
Not graphic enough, Bloodthirsty Ali quipped.
Hello, new personalities. So nice to meet you.
So, going full circle. Cole was mine. There was no question about that, and I did trust him. Totally and completely. And I knew he wasn’t interested in anyone else. Not even Veronica. But...yeah. This omission hurt.
Get over it. People are allowed to keep secrets. And it’s not like this is important right now anyway.
And there was Pragmatic Ali. I knew her well.
“I was out last night,” Veronica continued. “I’m a regular at Hearts, and I went home with... Well.” Her cheeks flushed, and she cleared her throat.
Didn’t want her little sister to know she’d left the nightclub to get a little some-some from a stranger?
“It’s okay,” Juliana said, glaring at me. As if everything wrong with the world was my fault.
I wasn’t judging, jeez.
“He tried to drug my drink,” Veronica said, her voice trembling. “He didn’t realize I’m the untrustworthy type and switched our glasses the moment his back was turned. He went down, and another guy came rushing into the room, clearly expecting me to be the one on the floor. We fought. I won. Barely. I raced home on foot and had no idea what was going on, just assumed it was a date-rape thing, until Bronx started banging on my door a few hours ago.”
Anima was smart. They knew how to track. The time she’d spent here concerned me. “I don’t think you guys are safe. You’re hard to find, yes, but not impossible. Sooner or later Anima will show up, and we all know what will happen then.”
She blanched but said, “I can take care of myself and my sister, thank you. I’ve been doing it for a long time.”
“Don’t play the pride card,” Frosty said. “You and Juliana need to be behind Mr. Ankh’s walls, and that’s that. He has cameras and a system to alert him if anyone steps foot on his property. You don’t. He also has secret passageways if there’s a problem.”
Veronica sighed. “Okay, okay. I get it. My place sucks. His doesn’t.”
Listen to him but not me. Awesome.
“I’d like to see what you could afford, Ali Bell,” Juliana snapped, marching to her sister’s bed. The two joined hands in a show of support.
Once again, my chest constricted. I’d had that kind of unity with Emma, and I missed it almost as much as I missed her.
“Cat fight later,” Bronx said. “I’m ready to go. I need to see Reeve.”
Need was far stronger than want, but I knew he wasn’t overstating. The same bond existed between Cole and me. Invisible but fierce.
“If Kat isn’t in my arms within the hour,” Frosty said, checking the safety on his gun, “I’m going to get cranky.”
First: that was a scary thought. A cranky Frosty was a murderous Frosty.
Second: if we were going to stay together, we’d need an SUV.
Fabulous. “Looks like we’re all about to become freelance valets.”
Chapter 8 (#ulink_bd743838-3483-59bb-bd24-57a1457f4e53)
BONKERS TODAY,
BONKERS TOMORROW
On the drive to Mr. Ankh’s, I texted Cole to let him know Mackenzie was in need of medical help.
His response took a while, but it did come. Ankh says he’ll B ready.
I also texted Kat and Reeve to let them know their men were on the way and good to go. Close to thirty replies came in.
The highlights?
Kat: Cake! CRAZMAZING! Knew U could do it, Ali me girl!
Kat: WAIT. I know U said he’s good 2 go, but does he still have all his parts? I need 2 know if I can knee his man junk. HE MADE ME WORRY ABOUT HIS WELL-BEING!
Reeve: Is Bronx speaking, or has he gone silent? Tell me! Please! I have 2 know which side of him I’ll B dealing w/ so I’ll know which Reeve 2 let greet him—the lover or the he-woman street fighter (yes, I fight. Sue me!).
Kat: Would now B a horrible time 2 break up w/him? Who cares! I’m gonna do it. Causing a girlfriend untold worry is a crime punishable by death!
Kat: BTW how many people did he have 2 kill 2 survive? & is that why U left me behind (& almost earned an alley kat experience U would never 4get)? B honest. U didn’t want me 2 C the bodies, did U?
Reeve: WHY AREN’T U HERE??? I’ll street fight YOU if U don’t hurry.
Kat: Is it bad that I’m turned on right now?
When we got there, it was no surprise to see Mr. Ankh, Reeve and Kat waiting on the front porch. Kat should have been flushed, considering her excitement, but she was still pale. I didn’t like that. And where was Cole?
Unfortunately, the couples weren’t given a chance to hug and kiss—and whatever else. Mr. Ankh began barking orders the moment the car doors opened, demanding Frosty carry Mackenzie to the room next to Gavin’s and that Bronx clear the way. The girls could only walk next to their boys, talking a mile a minute.
“—get a reward for surviving,” Kat was saying. “You can start by taking off all your clothes and—”
“I don’t need to hear this, Miss Parker,” Mr. Ankh snapped.
“—showering,” she finished. “Alone. Of course. I like my men clean.”
“How’s Gavin doing?” I asked, trailing behind.
“Far better than I anticipated.” Mr. Ankh stopped, forcing me to do the same. He glanced over his shoulder. “He’ll survive.”
Relief poured through me, sweet and welcome.
“Two boys. Two wounds. Two miracle recoveries. Any clue how that’s happening?” he asked, catching me off guard.
“Slayer fire,” I admitted.
His eyes glazed for a moment, his medical mind probably assessing the pros and cons. Then he leaped forward to catch up with Frosty and Bronx. I took a step, intending to follow, but Kat came flying out the door. She propelled into me, wrapping her arms around me. Her grip was weaker than usual.
“Thank you, Ali. Thank you, thank you, thank you.”
I hugged her back, tears burning my eyes. “I’m so, so sorry, Mad Dog. I know I apologized over text and you said all was forgiven, but I had to say it in person. I couldn’t take the chance that we’d find him and he’d be injured, and you’d freak, and I’d have to try and cart both of you—”
“I know. Cole explained on the way home.” She pulled back and gave me a watery smile. “Besides, you brought him back, and that’s all that matters.”
With that, she was gone, chasing after her man.
“Have Mr. Ankh check you out,” I called, trudging forward. Prickles on the back of my neck stopped me. Something was going on around me, and my spirit sensed it. My mind just hadn’t caught up yet.
Trying to act nonchalant, I spun slowly, eyeing the grounds. Big, thick bushes circled the edge of the property, hiding the residents from prying eyes. There was no—
There! A fall of wheat-colored hair surrounded a pale face. For a second, only a second, light blue eyes met mine, before the woman—somehow familiar, though I was certain I’d never met her—turned away from me and disappeared in the foliage.
Palming a dagger, I rushed after her. Who was she? Why was she here? To spy for Anima?
Surely not. There was no way she could have gotten past Mr. Ankh’s security. Right? So, Mr. Ankh had to know she was here. Right?
Just before I reached the spot where I’d first seen her, I ground to a halt. What if he didn’t know? What if this was some kind of ambush? I focused on the sounds around me. There was a whistle of wind. In the distance, a car’s engine purred and a dog barked. No voices. No snapping limbs. No shuffling footsteps.
Like every girl in every horror movie ever made—a specialty of mine—I did not turn back. I inched forward, quietly working my way through the branches and leaves.... I found her standing a few yards away, next to one of the tallest trees on the property. Waiting for me. Though it was freezing out, she wore a black tank top, no coat, and seemed unfazed by the cold. At least her legs were covered by camo pants and her feet with combat boots.
“Who are you?” I asked, letting her see the knife.
“Samantha,” she said, and there was so much longing radiating from her, my heart actually shuddered. “Sami.”
“Sami.” An odd throb started up in my chest. “That’s your name?”
“No. Not mine.” She offered me a sad smile, and her identity instantly crystallized. The woman from my dream. The one with the little girl.
The two were real.
Part of my family?
Surely. Those eyes...
“Who is Sami? Who are you?” I repeated more sharply.
“I have a gift for you,” she said, holding out her hand.
Accepting the gift, whatever it was, would be stupid. I didn’t know her, not really, and I certainly didn’t trust her. But that didn’t stop me from closing the distance. What can I say? Curiosity owned me.
“Make an aggressive move,” I said, “and I will gut you. I won’t think twice about it.”
Her gaze met mine—the longing and sadness so much stronger now. Breaking my heart. But there was also...pride. Why?
I found myself asking, “What’s the gift? And are you related to Phillip Bell?” My dad. Did I want her to be? “What about Miranda Bradley?”
“Time is short, and the gift is necessary.” She waved me even closer. “It will help you defeat your enemy.”
True or false?
Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.
Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».
Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию (https://www.litres.ru/gena-showalter/the-queen-of-zombie-hearts/) на ЛитРес.
Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.
Gena Showalter
Тип: электронная книга
Жанр: Детская проза
Язык: на английском языке
Издательство: HarperCollins
Дата публикации: 16.04.2024
Отзывы: Пока нет Добавить отзыв
О книге: BOOK 3 OF THE WHITE RABBIT CHRONICLESAlice Bell thinks the worst is behind her. She’s fought zombies and won. Now she’s ready for a peaceful life with boyfriend Cole, the leader of the zombie slayers… until the dangerous agency controlling the undead launches an attack with devastating consequences.Humans can be more dangerous than monsters… and the worst has only just begun.They’ve started a war. Alice is determined to end it.