The Hotter You Burn

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The Hotter You Burn Page 32

by Gena Showalter


  "No, but it probably should be," Ali says. "You look like crap." Her mouth has always lacked a filter, a problem exacerbated by the fact that she refuses to lie about anything. Two qualities guaranteed to turn any conversation into a battlefield. But I wouldn't change her. I'll take blunt over charming any day.

  Cole sits next to her and kisses her cheek, and she leans in to him, the actions natural to them both, wholly instinctive. Kat and I used to do the same.

  A lance of pain rips through my chest.

  "The good news is my crap is another man's best," I say. "You look good, at least."

  "Obviously." Ali buffs her nails.

  It's such a Kat thing to say--to hear--we both freeze.

  I need a moment to steady my breathing. New conversations eventually kick off, friendly insults bouncing back and forth among the group. My attention remains on Ali, and she mouths, I'm sorry.

  I hike my shoulders in a shrug. Ali is Kat's polar opposite in appearance. In storybook terms, she's the innocent snow princess to Kat's seductive evil queen. Ali is tall and slender with a fall of pale hair and eyes so clear and blue looking into them is like staring into an ocean, while Kat is--was, damn it--short and curvy with dark hair and hazel eyes a perfect blend of green and gold. There'd been no one prettier, or smarter, or wittier, or more adorable, and if I continue on this path, I'm going to topple the table before tearing the building apart brick by brick.

  The waitress finally arrives with the coffeepot and fills my cup. "Your order will be out in a few minutes, hon." She pats my shoulder and ambles away.

  "We took the liberty of ordering for you," Reeve tells me. "Two fried eggs, four pieces of bacon, two sausage patties, a double helping of hash browns and a stack of blueberry pancakes." She nibbles on her bottom lip. "If you'd like something else..."

  "I'm sure I can make do with so little." I'm not hungry, anyway. "How's Z hunting going?"

  "Better than ever." Ali takes a sip of her orange juice. "We've stopped fighting and simply allow them to bite us. In minutes, our light cleanses them--and us--of all darkness, and they float away into the hereafter. It's a miracle to watch."

  Slayers produce spiritual fire, the only weapon truly capable of killing a zombie. But after the leader of Anima experimented on Ali, shooting her full of untested drugs, she developed the ability to save the Z's with her fire. An ability she then shared with other slayers by using her fire on them.

  Multiple times she's offered to share the ability with me, too, but I've always turned her down. I'm not interested in saving my enemy. Zombies bit Kat. If I hadn't lost her to a hail of bullets, I would have lost her to toxin. So, zombies have to die.

  The downside? I suffer when I'm bitten. The pain affects my whole body and is unbearable. The urge to destroy everything in my path is overwhelming. I also don't heal without slayer fire or an injection of a chemical antidote--and I have to receive one within a ten-minute window of the bite or I'm toast. And since I don't want to acquire the ability to save zombies, it has to be the injection. Always.

  "Do I sense a but?" I ask.

  Ali takes a drink of her water and nods. "The more bites we allow, the longer it takes us to recover."

  "Makes sense. The more bites, the more toxin your spirit has to cleanse."

  "More coffee?" the waitress asks.

  The girls jolt at the sound of her voice. I just nod. Like Cole and Bronx, my guard hasn't dropped since I walked through the diner doors. I've known the waitress's location every second and knew she was close enough to hear us.

  The coffee is poured, and she walks away without giving us the you are so weird look. Normally we wouldn't discuss our business so openly, but we're kids (technically) and we've learned that everyone assumes we're talking about a video game.

  "We need to come up with a new way to help the Z's and ourselves," Bronx says. "After a battle, I'm drained for a week."

  The food arrives a few minutes later, the waitress placing steaming plates in front of each of us. My friends dig in as if they've been starved for months. While I was out drinking and sexing it up last night, they clearly did some of that zombie hunting and fighting. The sleeve of Ali's shirt has risen, and I see the raised red bite marks on her arm, just above a tattoo of a white rabbit.

  I look around and find bite marks on Cole and Bronx, too, and it hits me hard. They went into the field of battle without me. They could have been hurt, or worse, and I wouldn't have been there to help them. The Z-saving thing is new, as untested as the drugs Ali was given, and we don't know all the ins and outs. Something could have gone horribly wrong.

  I swallow a curse. I need to get my act together. Like, yesterday. But I'm not sure I can.

  Copyright (c) 2015 by Gena Showalter

  Brook Lynn's Stuffed Pepper Bacon Goodness

  4 poblano peppers, halved and seeded

  1/2 lb bacon

  1 jalapeno pepper, seeded

  1 small white onion

  4 garlic cloves

  1 tbsp butter

  1 lb hamburger meat

  salt and pepper, to taste

  8 oz cream cheese

  cheddar cheese for topping, shredded Roast poblano peppers in oven or on grill until soft.

  Dice bacon, jalapeno, onion and garlic, and then saute with butter in a large pan. Add ground beef and brown it, seasoning to taste.

  Mix beef and bacon mixture with cream cheese and fill each poblano half. Top with layer of cheddar cheese and place in baking dish.

  Bake at 350degF for 30-45 minutes. Enjoy!

  ISBN: 978-1-474-03579-8

  THE HOTTER YOU BURN

  (c) 2015 Gena Showalter

  Published in Great Britain 2015

  by Mills & Boon, an imprint of Harlequin (UK) Limited

  Eton House, 18-24 Paradise Road, Richmond, Surrey TW9 1SR

  All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.

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