by Dia Cole
“Surprisingly well.” I rolled my shoulders and took stock of my injuries. My head throbbed, my back ached, and my hand felt strangely numb, but overall I was doing far better than I should under the circumstances.
If not for Mike, I’d be dead.
I felt the blood drain from my face.
I hate to admit it, but my sister is right. My zombie-fighting skills need improvement.
I looked up to find Mike staring at me intently. “Are you sure you’re feeling okay?”
Unable to stop the impulse, I wiped my hand over my forehead. It came away filthy.
No wonder he is looking at me like that. I probably look like a Dumpster-diving hobo zombie.
I self-consciously finger-combed my hair. “How long was I out?”
“A few hours. You whacked your head pretty hard. I figured we were better off finding shelter for the night than trying to get back to the safe house in the dark.”
“What happened to Trish?”
His jaw tightened. “She didn’t stick around. I’m hoping she made it back to the school.”
I hoped so too. “She must be so upset. Losing her brother like that…” My chest grew tight thinking of the pain she must be in.
I don’t know what I’d do if I lost Lee.
As much as we fought, my sister was still the most important person in the world to me.
Mike let out a heavy sigh. “It’s my fault Jared’s dead.”
I reached over and touched his hand. “There was nothing you could’ve done. The Howler was unstoppable. I’ve never seen anything like it.” Remembering the way it shook off the bullets made me tremble.
He grabbed my hand tightly. “It nearly killed you. I can’t risk that happening again.”
A sinkhole opened in the pit of my stomach. “What are you saying?”
He pressed his lips in a firm line, the furrow in his brow answering my question better than words would.
I yanked my hand away. “No. You can’t keep me from going on missions.” My rescue work was too important.
“Don’t look at me like that. You have no idea how much you mean to me.”
I inhaled sharply.
What am I supposed to say to that?
Needing to change the subject, I nodded at the hand radio hanging on his tactical belt. “Please tell me you were able to reach the safe house and let them know we’re okay.”
He shook his head. “We’re still out of range.”
A sickening feeling came over me. “Oh, God. My sister and Reed are going to think I’m dead.”
He shrugged. “It’s unfortunate, but there is nothing we can do about that now. Think about how happy they will be to see you alive tomorrow.”
I let out a hysterical laugh. “You don’t know my sister very well. Lee will be losing her mind. She’ll never let me out of her sight after this…”
“Maybe that’s not such a bad thing,” Mike said looking at me with a mixture of concern and possessiveness.
I made a choking sound as I realized that between Mike and my sister, I’d probably never leave the safe house again.
Mike stood and walked over to the door across from the balcony. “Well, since we are trapped here for the night, I’m going to do another perimeter sweep. Why don’t you take a shower?”
He can’t be serious.
I smiled at his joke. “Right, and after that I’ll blow-dry my hair.”
He stopped with his hand on the door handle. “Didn’t I mention that this house runs on solar and has well water?” He flicked the switch by the door and the chandelier lights turned on.
“No way!” I scrambled off the bed and ran into the bathroom if you could even call it that. The entire space could’ve fit the classroom I currently slept in. It sported a long white marble countertop cluttered with toiletries and makeup, a large glass shower, and a white leather couch next to a fireplace.
Unable to resist the temptation, I flicked on the bathroom light and opened the door to my right. Inside was a large walk-in closet. There were rows of dresses organized by hue and an entire shelf of high heels in every color under the sun.
Whistling under my breath, I walked to the shoe shelf and picked up a purple suede stiletto. The shoe probably cost more money than I’d made in my entire life. As I set it back down, I noticed the end of the shelf wasn’t flush with the wall.
Curious, I looked closer. There was a dark passageway behind the shelf.
God knows what could be behind there.
Fear skittered down my spine.
“Mike!”
I reached for my gun. It wasn’t in my holster. Cursing myself for going anywhere without it, I raised the stiletto like a club and braced myself for something dead to stumble out.
Nothing did.
I let out a shaky breath. My shouting should’ve attracted any dead things lurking inside.
There’s nothing in there.
I set the shoe down with trembling hands and promised myself I’d never be stupid enough to wander into dark closets again. The world was dangerous enough as it was. The last thing I needed was to go looking for trouble without a weapon.
I wrinkled my nose at the overpowering odor of floral perfume seeping out from the passageway. It reminded me of the flowers at my mother’s and sister’s funeral. Wanting to escape the painful memory of that day, I tried to push the shelf close. It wouldn’t budge in either direction.
Oh well.
I shrugged my shoulders and quickly backtracked to the bathroom.
I was just shutting the closet door when Mike rushed in guns draw. “What it is?”
“False alarm,” I said waving him back. “I’m going to clean up now.”
Mike’s fierce expression melted into masculine interest. “Need any help with that?”
My breath shallowed at the mental image of him bathing me. “No!”
“Well then, I’ll be right outside if you need me.” Mike scanned the bathroom again and walked out, closing the door behind him.
I need you.
Wait. No, I don’t.
I bitch slapped my hormones back into line.
A flickering tail under the couch grabbed my attention. Grateful for the distraction, I walked over and peered underneath.
Tango’s iridescent eyes blinked at me.
Now this is a male I can get close to.
“Hi, kitty boy. How are you doing?”
He let out a pitiful meow and scrambled back nearly to the fireplace.
Well, he clearly doesn’t want to cuddle.
I stood up and caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror over the sink.
Damn. I look like road kill.
Rubbing at one of the many bloodstains on my face, I made my way over to the shower. I held my breath as I turned on the faucet. Water sprayed out from a large showerhead. A quick turn of the faucet and the water heated. A shriek of delight escaped my lips. For months all I’d been able to take were sponge baths with the cold rainwater we’d managed to collect at the school.
Entirely focused on the possibility of getting clean for the first time in months, I tore off my blood-spattered clothes and unclasped Sasha’s collar. It was covered in blood and other things I didn’t want to think about. I set it near the sink so I could clean it.
But first me.
I stepped into the shower, savoring the glorious feeling of the hot water hitting my skin.
I’ve died and gone to heaven.
I’d already washed my hair three times and shaved with the bath products sitting on the shower ledge when I noticed a weird smudge on the back of my hand near the scratch Tango had given me. I scrubbed at it.
It didn’t wipe away.
What the…
I held my hand up and looked closer. There were tiny black veins around the scratch.
Oh my God.
Time seemed to stop.
I’ve been infected.
5
My heart pounded as I remembered the Howler blood coating my h
and back at the garage.
The blood must’ve gotten into the scratch.
Shit. I should’ve been more careful.
I heard Lee lecturing me in my head. Your bleeding heart animal rescue crap is going to get you seriously hurt one of these days.
I let out a hysterical laugh. Lee was right.
She’s always right.
Tears blurred my vision as I realized I’d never see my sister again. The last time we’d spoken we’d fought as usual. She’d forbid me from coming on this mission and I’d told her where she could stick it.
I don’t want that to be the last memory she has of me…
I stared closer at the top of my hand. The dark veins were already spreading. In less than twenty-four hours they would cover my entire body and I’d die. Then moments later I’d return as a Biter. Or worse—a Howler.
Oh, God.
My stomach rolled as the ramifications slammed into me. I turned off the water and slowly got out of the shower. There was a robe hanging on a wall hook by the closet door. So distracted, I barely registered the softness of the fabric as I pulled it on. In a daze, I made my way over to the couch and sat down. Tears streamed down my face. I never thought I’d die before my twentieth birthday. There were so many things I still had yet to do.
Now’s a good time to put together that bucket list.
Not that there was much I could do in twenty-four hours. I couldn’t go skydiving, learn archery, or have sex…
A sharp knock at the door startled me.
“I’ve brought you some food and something to drink,” Mike said from the other side.
Oh, God. Does he know I’m infected?
I answered the question myself.
Of course not. If he knew he would’ve shot me in the head so fast I wouldn’t have seen it coming.
All of the soldiers had strict orders to kill any and all infected. It was viewed as a mercy killing since no one ever survived the Z-virus.
I don’t want to die.
My hands started to shake.
“Eden, are you okay?”
I have to tell him.
Something tugged at the bottom of my robe. I looked down and saw an orange paw batting the fabric.
What will happen to the cat?
The minute he knew I was infected, Mike would have to kill me and Tango would be left to fend for himself.
I have to get the cat back to the safe house. And when I go back, I’ll have a chance to say goodbye to Reed. And to Lee…
I let out a sob. There were so many things I needed to say to my sister.
I can’t let Mike know I’m infected.
“Y-yes.” I cleared my throat and said in a steadier voice, “I’ll be out in a minute.”
I scrubbed the tears from my face with the cuff of my robe, and then searched the bathroom cabinets until I found a roll of thick medical gauze. I wrapped my hand all the way up to the wrist.
It’ll buy me a little time.
I headed for the door to the bedroom before a backward glance at the mirror had me stopping in my tracks.
Ugh.
Knowing I was ridiculous for caring what Mike thought, I still took a minute to splash some water on my face, apply some makeup, and brush my hair.
As soon as I walked into the bedroom, the scent of melted cheese had my stomach rumbling.
Mike was setting a steaming plate of pasta on top of the nightstand next to a can of soda. He’d cleaned up too. His hair was damp and the only thing he wore was a pair of clean jeans, his dog tags, and the gun holster strapped across his bare chest. Every inch of his golden skin was ripped.
Hot damn.
My insides went liquid and my mind went blank. I’d seen other men shirtless, but Mike put them all to shame. I licked my lips wanting nothing more than to run my hands across his washboard abs.
“Is your hand injured?”
His words broke me out of my daze. With a start I realized he was looking down at the bandage.
“It’s fine. Just a scratch,” I said with a dismissive wave. Eager to avoid further questions, I turned my attention to the mouthwatering food. “Is that mac and cheese?”
“Yeah,” he said. “And before you ask, it’s dairy-free cheese. The people that owned this place must’ve been vegan like you.”
I grinned, thrilled beyond words. “I’m impressed you remembered.” Although I tried to eat as animal free as I could, I’d been forced to relax some of my dietary preferences. It was a sad but necessary fact that survival trumped moral conviction.
Mike gestured me to sit in the chair. “I’ve been watching you for the past two months. I know a lot about you.”
“Yeah?” I said sitting down.
Mike handed me a fork. “You like your sodas warm. You’re annoyingly cheerful in the morning. You like children, especially Rosie. Your sister pushes all your buttons, but you seem to love her anyway. You have a strange infatuation with the color pink and you look down at your feet when you lie. You like checkers, but hate chess. Your sleeping area is always a mess. You’re stubborn to a fault and Reed seems to be the only person able to change your mind once you’ve made it up. Shall I go on?”
God. He knows me better than I know myself.
Taken aback, I tried for some humor. “Okay, stalker.” I pushed aside one of the guns on the nightstand and took a bite of pasta. I shut my eyes in bliss as the gooey cheese-like taste exploded in my mouth. This was real food not those tasteless MREs or dry protein bars we’d been eating for weeks. I wanted to savor every bite. “Mmm.” When I opened my eyes, Mike was frowning down at me with his arms crossed.
Feeling the weight of his glare, I wiped some imaginary cheese off my chin. “What?”
“Why are you calling me a stalker? Is it just a coincidence that you showed up for every one of my training sessions? And I know you get up at the crack of dawn, but you’re a regular at the cafeteria when I eat breakfast. And your sister hates it when you go on missions but you’ve volunteered for every single one that I’ve led. And was it just chance that you happened to be standing under the mistletoe when I walked by that night?”
Oh, man. He’s got my number…
I swallow the food in my mouth and raised my hands in surrender. “Okay. Maybe I’ve been somewhat intrigued by you.”
His expression softened. “I’ve been intrigued by you too.” His gaze was so intent it felt as if he was peeling back the layers of my soul.
This is getting too heavy.
The cheesy noodles seemed to lodge in my throat.
“I wanted to give you this,” Mike said, handing me a rose that must’ve been shoved in his waistband. “I found it in the garden in the back.”
He’s romantic too…
I sniffed the scarlet petals inhaling the sweet fragrance. “It smells heavenly.” I ran my fingers along the smooth green stem. “You shouldn’t have cut off the thorns.”
He seemed transfixed by the movements of my fingers. “I didn’t want them to cut you.”
One of my favorite quotes from Brontë slipped from my lips, “But he who dares not grasp the thorn should never crave the rose.”
“That’s beautiful,” he said in a husky voice.
“I didn’t come up with i—,” I broke off, snared by the hunger in his gaze. I clutched the flower to my chest like a lifeline. “Please stop looking at me like that. Because I—”
Without waiting for me to finish, Mike leaned down and kissed me.
6
Stunned, my head spun out like a car hitting black ice.
He flicked his tongue against the seam of my lips until I opened them. His scent—a woodsy aftershave spiked with an essence that was his and his alone surrounded me. A searing wave of desire roared through my bloodstream leaving me shaking and breathless. Unable to help myself, I dropped the rose and wrapped my arms around his neck.
He groaned. Then he plundered my mouth with the hot wet heat of his tongue and lips.
The man can kiss.
An overwhelming need to stroke his warm smooth skin ran through me. I skimmed my fingers along his shoulders wanting to touch every inch of him. A slow delicious heat built between my legs.
He tasted like peppermint and raw male. The flavor was addictive.
I need this. Need him.
No.
I pushed him away. “I can’t do this.”
He pulled back with muffled groan. “Why not?”
My mother’s scream echoed in my head.
I fisted my hands. “I don’t want to get into it.” No part of me wanted to talk about the horrific night that changed my life forever.
“Why do you keep pushing me away?” When I didn’t respond, he turned and stalked over to the French doors. He put one hand on the glass and looked out into the darkness. “I’ve never felt this connection to anyone else. None of the women I’ve been with affected me the way you do.”
The idea of him being with someone else unsettled me. “How many women have you been with?”
And why does it matter so much to me?
“That’s not the point.” Mike spun around. The emotion churning in his eyes pinned me to the chair. “In this world we live in, you don’t walk away from love when you find it.”
Love. Did he just say love?
“I want you, Eden. I know you’re supposed to be off-limits, but I want you with every breath in my body. I have since the moment we met.”
His confession rattled me to the depths of my core.
I want him too.
No matter how I tried to fight it.
He started to speak. Then stopped. The fierce soldier seemed uncertain. There was suddenly a boyish quality about him I’d never seen before.
He cleared his throat. “I’d hoped that you wanted me as much as I want you.”
I do.
I licked my lips, tasting his kiss. Just imagining the two of us skin to skin on the bed next to me set my blood on fire.
Apparently taking my silence as rejection, a mixture of emotions crossed his face—fading hope, sadness, and resignation. Finally, he turned away. “Forget it. I know when to quit.”
I looked down at my bandaged hand.
I don’t have much time left. Do I really want to die without experiencing desire? Without experiencing Mike?
