Love For My Zombie Kings: A Reverse Harem Zombie Romance (Zombies Rule The World Book 1)

by McCoy, LeeSha

  I haven’t had a holiday since I graduated, but God knows I could do with one now.

  Three

  Mikka

  It's just before seven when I arrive at work on Monday morning. It’s quiet, but this place doesn’t liven up until around nine. I give a quick nod to security as they let me through, then head towards the elevator banks.

  I punch twelve on the keypad after I step inside the empty lift, then I scroll through my brother’s Facebook page. He’s uploaded a few pictures from the ship; a few of his cabin, a incredible view of the sea, and a selfie of him and mum at dinner last night.

  There’s only three years difference between my brother and I, and we don’t really look much alike. He looks like my late father, whereas I’m a spit of my mother. Mum and I have the same dark eyes that are a little too big for our faces, same long, almost black, curly hair, and the same mocha skin. Mum’s Kenyan, mixed with German, but my dad was full African American, and dark skinned.

  Dad died when I was thirteen. He had a stroke one morning on his way to work, and just like that, he was gone. He was super smart, too, and my mum always said I got my brains from him. He was in the Air Force for ten years—stationed at Lakenheath— and my mum met him on a night out in Cambridge, which isn’t too far from there.

  She said it was love at first sight.

  I often think about what he’d say if he could see me now. I know he’d be proud. I know my mum and brother sure are. My brother, as the oldest, has always tried to fill the void left by my father when it comes to me, and although we might not be able to see each other now, we always text often.

  I lift my head as the doors open on the sixth floor, and I hold in a groan ‘cause my biggest headache strolls in.

  “Mikka.”

  I suppress the immediate urge to roll my eyes. Zane’s smiling widely, trying to charm me like he does all the other women here, but it’s a massive fail. I mean, he’s okay-looking; he’s a ringer for Tyreese; tall, dark-skinned, clearly lives in the onsite gym, and he walks around here like he’s modelling in a Louis Vuitton ad. But there’s one massive drawback.

  His personality is pure trash.

  His father, Mister Myers, owns the company, so of course this little prick not only thinks he can get away with murder, but regularly does. Most days, my main goal is to stay as far away from him as possible.

  He’s toxic.

  “Zane,” I reply, immediately looking back down at my phone and trying not to cough from the amount of cologne he wears. It’s times like these I wish I had more friends so I could get them to call me.

  “Have an answer for me yet?”

  I ignore the fact he’s stepped entirely too close to me, even though this lift can hold twenty people. “Uh...” I switch to my mum’s feed. “Not the one you want.”

  He strokes the sleeve of my coat, and I flinch before stepping away. “Come on, Meek. How long you gonna keep a guy waiting?”

  I fucking hate when he shortens my name. “I'm busy. I told you I don't have time—”

  “To see anyone,” he finishes. “It's just a drink.”

  I sigh as I slip my phone into my bag. He’s leisurely leaning against the metal wall and hasn’t even punched his destination into the keypad. “I know, but I still need time for that.”

  No way in this living hell am I going to his place like he’s suggested. He’d probably try to make me stay until it got dark, then I’d be stuck with him the entire night. I think I’d rather take my chances out on the streets than with him.

  I've given him every excuse I can think of—even told him point blank I wasn't interested—but he just won't give up. I wish I could just tell him to fuck off, but I like this job and saying that would most definitely cause me to lose it.

  “Oh, Meek-Meek.” His eyes travel the length of me; not that he can see anything. I make sure I always dress in baggy clothes, and a coat two sizes too big. “You can’t make even a little time for me? I promise, you’ll enjoy yourself.”

  “I'm sorry, Zane, but—”

  He pushes himself off the wall to walk over to me, and I quickly eye the keypad. Only one more floor to go. “Don't be sorry, just promise me a drink.”

  “I don’t make promises I can’t keep.” The lift finally comes to a halt and I immediately step around him to escape.

  “Let me know!” he calls after me, and I raise my hand as I continue the walk to the end of the corridor, to my lab. Ugh. I know one drink wouldn’t hurt, but I don’t trust him. All my spidey senses go into high alert around him, and none in a good way.

  Not a single one.

  Besides, he thinks I’m stupid, but I know what he wants. I made the mistake of dating a guy on the first floor a few months ago, and then somehow, word got round that I was still a virgin. Since then, date requests have been coming out of my ass.

  I tried going to HR about all the unwanted attention, namely the amount from Zane, but Clara warned me straight that management would find a way to silence me if I made noise within the company like that. Of course it was friendly advice, but I still decided to take it.

  Mister Myers is known for being into all kinds of unethical shit; the way he treats any zombies he gets his hands on is proof of that, and as mundane as my life actually is, I'm quite fond of it. So, I’ve kept my mouth shut, but that has meant I’ve had to deal with sexual harassment like it’s part of my job description.

  Lucky me.

  I reach the semi-safety of my domain, and once I’ve changed into my lab coat, I race to my work computer to check if the karyotype has arrived for the Zed-Two yet.

  It hasn’t.

  I try not to be too disappointed and decide to check some secret results of some tests I’ve been running through my genetics programme. I haven't told anyone about these tests; I wanted to see if my theory was right before I went to my managers with it.

  “Fuck, I was right,” I whisper.

  Zombie DNA can theoretically merge into a host’s, if the host’s thirteen chromosomes are unbalanced.

  I started these tests as soon as we became aware of that Zed-Two. I had an inkling that a bite may have different results if the host had any kind of fault in their own genetic make-up. There were a number of things I could’ve tested against, but I started with DNA, obviously.

  But does this make them into super zombies? And does it allow for reproducing?

  These results show that the zombie DNA effectively infiltrates the host’s, and then binds itself to it in order to create a new karyotype with fifty-two chromosomes instead of forty-six. This wouldn’t normally be compatible with life, but these show a stable outcome.

  I sit back in my chair. This shit could be big. The thing now, though, is what would the real-life product be?

  “Miss Rishan to containment, please. Miss Rishan to containment.”

  I roll my eyes as I hear Ava summoning me over the tannoy. Talk about timing.

  I close out of my computer to make my way up to the next floor. It's busier than usual and my skin unexpectedly ripples with goosebumps. Something big is going on up here.

  Ava pops her head out of the new detainment room. “In here, Mikka. Christmas came early.” She throws me a mask. “Put this on.”

  I catch it and frown. “Christma—”

  She disappears, so I slip the mask over my face and walk faster to follow her. I still when I enter; there's commotion everywhere. The room isn’t only full of technicians in white coats, Zane and his father are also here.

  I quickly spot Ava and she motions me over to the right where a gap is created for me to squeeze through. I go over and look down at a pair of black, tracksuit-covered legs, but then I follow them up to an unforgettable face and gasp way too loudly. He looks drugged up to almighty hell, but there’s no mistaking him.

  “What the hell is he doing in here?”

  “You know him?” Mister Myers asks.

  I shake my head, feeling the burn of everyone’s incredulous stares on my face, but I k
eep my eyes fixed to the jaywalker strapped to the table. “I almost ran him over yesterday.”

  The man stops fighting his restrains, and I frown.

  “Looks like he likes you.”

  I turn my head to Zane who’s appeared beside me, ignoring his poor attempt at a joke. “I don't think so. Trust me, when I almost hit him, he looked like he wanted to kill me.”

  “Well, he didn’t look like that before you came over here.”

  My heart stills. “He’s a Zed-Two?”

  Zane nods.

  What? My mind scrambles. I can’t believe he was right in front of me yesterday and I had no idea what he was…

  Zane shifts closer and I discretely recoil, which he notices. “I think she should work this one,” he announces to the room.

  “Me?” I squeak, taking a quick look back down at the man who is now staring murderously at Zane. “Um, I don't think so—”

  “Agreed,” his dad says. “Even to keep him calm enough for us to carry out the tests.”

  Fuck. I never actually work hands-on with the test specimens. “But I'm not trained.”

  “I'll get you up to speed,” Ava says. “Don't fret.”

  I look back down and shiver from the look this man's giving me now. I swear his eyes nod at me.

  “Um, okay?”

  One of the technicians begins to draw blood from him, but the man doesn't look away from me. He just stares, as if studying me, like I'm a test subject to him. It makes me feel seriously uncomfortable.

  I feel Zane come closer to my ear. “Careful, he might ask you for a date.”

  I laugh—albeit uncomfortably—with everyone else, but I wish I could kick him in his balls. Fucking idiot. This Zed-Two does actually have more of a chance of dating me than he does, though.

  The Zed-Two gives me another look, but Ava pulls me away.

  “While they’re doing that, let me run over a few things with you.”

  “Uh, yeah,” I say as she wakes up her computer, but I’m still thinking about those intimidating eyes.

  Four

  Mikka

  “So, where did they find him?” I ask Ava when we get a moment alone.

  She re-ties her blonde hair into a bun before going back to typing on her computer. I’ve had a desk set up beside hers, but I’m not close enough to see what she’s writing. “Not sure. Not too far from here, I don’t think. So, you okay with everything? Like I said, we don’t do much up here. We mainly just observe and take notes until the results come in and we can discuss the next plan of action.”

  “Yeah, I’m good.” I take another quick glance over at the ten-inch thick, glass tank. They’ve decided to name him X. He’s currently laid on his bed, staring at the camera and gas vents built into his steel ceiling. The drugs should have worn off now.

  “He's staring at you again,” Ava whispers.

  I shrug and resist the urge to look back at him. “I don't know what you all want me to say when you tell me that.”

  The Zed-Two seems to be curious of me, which only cemented Mister Myers’ decision to make me work up here.

  “Maybe try talking to him like Mister Myers suggested. See if you can find out what his name is. What he wants? The tests so far have all shown he's conscious. He's smart, Mikka.”

  I know that. I’ve been looking at all the data we’ve collected so far. I’m still reeling over his karyotype being the same as the one my programme came up with over the weekend.

  She forgets I’m one of the top scientists in this place. It’s only my age that holds me back.

  I do want to talk to him; I can’t even call it an ‘it’ ‘cause he looks just like us, and my head doesn’t seem to be correlating what’s actually going on here. And as much as he seems intrigued by me, for some reason, my own curiosity is peaking like a damn heart monitor. Truthfully, as the day has passed, I've felt a lot of unsettling things about this situation, and I'm a little frightened.

  Some of the shit I've been thinking is, quite frankly, fucked up. I honestly wish I could get as far away from here as possible and never come back.

  The stare I feel on me becomes more intense. I have a strange feeling that he can hear what I'm thinking. I’m desperate for his brain scans to take place so I can know for sure.

  Ava waves a hand at me. “Hello? Are you going to? I wouldn’t piss Myers off. He can be a complete and utter asshole when you rub him up the wrong way,” she whispers, aware of the camera in here.

  I wake up my new monitor. “I'll try.”

  “Good.” She locks her computer as she stands. I’m gonna go see James about the scans.”

  She gets up to leave and I wring my fingers. I'm so damn scared. The glass between me and this Zed-Two might be reinforced with bars of steel running through it, but that does nothing to make me feel safe. It’s almost like he's in the most private part of me.

  My mind.

  What the hell do I even ask him? He hasn't said one word, so we can’t be certain he can even talk. Besides, he says more than enough with those dark, brooding eyes.

  I sigh heavily as curiosity wins out, and I swivel in my chair to face the tank. He’s up at the glass now, and his eyes pin me straight away, causing me to startle and roll back a little in my seat. Shit, he’s stealthy. Especially for someone so tall. He’s in perfect shape, though; all of us noticed how solid his body was when the technicians stripped him out of his black tracksuit to redress him into a standard green one.

  However, although his body is muscular and defined, his skin is peppered with raised, light caramel scars everywhere, starting at his neck. I followed them down his chest and torso until they disappeared under the waistband of his boxers and continued down his thighs.

  I had to look away before they cut those off. I’d started questioning my sanity.

  I stand, pushing down my hesitation as I attempt to do as Ava and my boss have asked. He looks me up and down, tilting his head and curiously eyeing me. I notice the way I breathe a little heavier, but I'm not sure if that's from fear or something else.

  He makes me feel...wrong.

  I slowly walk over to the glass and he stands up straighter, his gaze intensifying with each of my steps. I try to swallow again, but it’s like trying to swallow sandpaper ‘cause my mouth is so dry, and my palms are sweating like crazy. I eye the camera over his cage and try to regain some composure over myself because I know this is all being recorded, or worse, watched.

  I stop when I'm a few steps away from the tank. He's tall, around six foot, and I’m only five four, so I can't get any closer without pulling my damn neck.

  “Hello?” I say, but it’s barely audible.

  His lip twitches, but then he rolls his eyes and walks over to his bed. He sits down and stares at me, and I not only feel uncomfortable, but lame as fuck.

  Hello? Jesus. My boss has him locked up in here like a damned lab rat, and I say, hello? He probably wants to eat me.

  I chew my bottom lip, unable to break eye-contact—even though I want to. I don't know what to say, so I turn away but only take a step before the sound of his hand hitting the glass makes me jump out of my skin.

  My heart thumps wildly as I turn back around. I forgot how fast they’re meant to be. “You walked away,” I say, feeling as though I need to give an explanation.

  He points upwards and I follow it until I see the camera above his cage, hanging by the wires.

  Superfast…

  I look back at him. “They'll come up here as soon as they notice it's broken.”

  He grunts, and I get the impression he doesn't care. He motions me closer, but I stay where I am. I'm scared to get any closer, and I think he knows.

  “What’s your name?” I ask, genuinely interested to know.

  His eyes dart past me, so I take a quick look, but I don't see anyone there. He lifts his hand and begins drawing on the glass with his finger.

  He spells out T-H-O-R-N.

  I lift my head. “Your name is Thorn?”

>   He nods.

  Thorn… Different, but nice. “I guess you already know my name is Mikka.”

  Another nod, and I return it in understanding. All this glass between us, and his hearing is still perfect. Incredible…

  “Can you talk?”

  A ghost of a smirk touches his full lips before he opens them, but he presses them firmly shut and gives me just the slightest tip of his head.

  I hold back a smirk myself; he isn’t going to talk to me. Fine. “Are there more like you?”

  Same reply.

  I stare at him, trying not to think about how attractive he is for a…whatever he is. You would never in a million years think this man isn’t just a man. To think he can change his body into something that resembles a corpse with devilish eyes is beyond me. I wonder what it would be like to feel like that? To have all that power…

  I step closer. “Do you like what you are?”

  His gaze intensifies, but no answer comes. Instead, his eyes lighten to a summery hazel and I start to feel… heated. The feeling is fleeting, though, because he suddenly turns his back to me as I hear a march of footsteps out in the corridor.

  Gas begins to fill his chamber as he lies on his bed, and I quickly lose the ability to see him.

  Damn timing…

  I turn as the containment team rush inside the room and promptly pull me back from the glass. I try to explain that I’m fine, but they’re huge compared to me, so I do as I’m told.

  Zane appears and rushes over to me. He’s in his gym wear and dripping with sweat. “What happened? Why’s the camera out?”

  “Uh, I don't exactly know. He moved so fast; one second the camera was fine, the next…” I shrug.

  “Did he say anything?”

  I shake my head. “He didn’t speak, but I think his name is Thorn.”

  His eyes narrow. “How do you know that if he didn’t speak?”

  I hesitate to answer him. “I think he tried to spell it out on the glass.” I’m not telling him that he did that shit confidently and quickly. As much as I know I can’t trust Thorn, I can’t trust Zane more. Everyone in this building knows how much Zane loves to hunt with his friends on the weekends, and I don’t mean for animals.