The White Rabbit Chronicles

by Gena Showalter

  But Cole could see Emma. Why not this woman?

  “I gave you my ability to push out streams of power,” she said.

  Gave it? Racked my brain, came up empty. “I don’t understand.”

  “You have visions with the boy, Cole. You can light up from the top of your head to the soles of your feet. One bite of your spirit, and the zombies sicken.”

  True. True. And true. “And?”

  “And a spirit doesn’t lose his or her supernatural abilities through death—they spring from the spirit, after all. But those abilities can be passed. Meaning, you can give your abilities to someone else, and other slayers can give you theirs, but what you give, you can no longer use.”

  So...she’d given me her ability, knowing she would no longer be able to use it herself. Why?

  “Or abilities can be stolen. But that’s a lesson for another day.” Her eyebrows drew together. “Anima knows all of this. Why don’t you?”

  Good question. “How did you do it, Sami? Pass it to me, I mean. Why did you do it?”

  She squared her shoulders, as if expecting a blow. “My name isn’t Sami. I’m...” Her light blue gaze flicked to Cole. “Helen.”

  “Helen,” I repeated and heard several gasps of horror.

  She gulped. “What they’ll tell you about me—”

  “Don’t worry about them. Concentrate on me. Who’s Sami?” I asked.

  A hard hand gripped my shoulder, and before I knew what was happening, I was being dragged across the room. The moment the two parts of me connected, they snapped back together; I sucked in a breath, looked for the woman—Helen—but she was gone.

  Who was she? Why was she helping me?

  And she was. Helping me. Clearly. I had no doubts about that now.

  Slayers lined up in front of me, demanding my full attention. Cut and bleeding, they stared at me with differing degrees of rage.

  “What?” I demanded.

  “Do not talk to that woman again.” Cole leaned down, putting us nose to nose. “I don’t know how you’re seeing a dead woman you’ve got no connection to and I’m not, but if she visits you again, walk away. Don’t listen to her. Don’t even look at her.”

  Wait. “So you know her?” I asked, baffled by the intensity of his aggression.

  “Of her,” he barked. “Now, this subject is closed.”

  Wow. I’d never seen him like this. Not with me. “Why?”

  “Closed,” he repeated.

  Fine. For now. But the moment I had him alone...

  Frosty scrubbed a hand down his face. “The last time Ali exhibited a strange ability, she almost killed us all.”

  Thanks for the reminder. Jerk. I blew him a sugary kiss.

  “She saved us today,” Jaclyn announced. “So why don’t you leave her the hell alone.”

  I offered her a small, grateful smile.

  Frosty held up his hands, palms out. “I wasn’t complaining. Just stating a fact.”

  Sure. “Was anyone bitten and not touched with fire?” For years, slayers had been forced to rely on an antidote to combat Z-toxin. But the antidote had one major flaw: with continuous use, it eventually stopped working, which meant, we had to stop fighting. For-freaking-ever.

  For me, it had stopped working.

  The fire had saved me from more than death.

  My question received a denial from each slayer.

  Cole snapped, “All right. Let’s get out of here.” He was still like a live wire. “Anima could come back, and we’re in no shape to fight. We should—”

  “Wait! What about Justin?” Jaclyn interjected.

  “He’s not here,” Bronx said, his voice achingly gentle. “They must have moved him.”

  “No.” She shook, shook, shook her head, hair slapping at her cheeks. “He has to be here. I saw him.”

  I moved in front of her, holding her gaze. “Remember what I told you. We’re going to find him. We’re not going to stop until he’s with us.” One way or another. “But we need time to recover, or we’ll be no good to him.”

  Tears spilled from her eyes, but she nodded.

  We left the warehouse and, sadly, left Collins behind. There was no way we could carry him out of the building without drawing unwanted attention. However, we planned to drive the SUV inside the warehouse and load him up. Give him a proper burial.

  I know, I know. It wasn’t ideal. His family deserved closure.

  Thing was, they’d have to get it another way. We couldn’t call the cops. Maybe they would believe we had inadvertently found him; maybe they wouldn’t. With our fingerprints all over the place, we couldn’t take the chance.

  When we reached the back alley, Bronx cursed. Frosty kicked over a trash can. Litter went flying in every direction.

  Mr. Ankh’s SUV was gone. Stolen...or moved by a freelance valet.

  Karma sucked.

  Frosty gave the trash can another vicious kick. “When I catch the filthy piece of sh—”

  “We have bigger worries,” Veronica said, motioning to the sky. The sun was going down in a hurry, the horizon a kaleidoscope of ever-darkening colors.

  Would zombies walk the streets tonight?

  If we weren’t up for a fight with Anima, we definitely weren’t up for another fight with zombies. Not even if I used my cool new ability to push power. Which I’d gotten from the mysterious, and obviously hated, Helen. I wasn’t sure I had the strength to use it. Wasn’t even sure how I’d used it in the first place.

  I searched for a rabbit cloud...relaxed when I spied only shapeless puffs of white.

  “I’ll call Ankh,” Cole said. “He’ll send a van for us. Until then, we’ll walk around like good little tourists, so that we’re not perfect targets. Then we’ll pick up Collins.”

  Sobering reminder.

  Hello, crickets.

  At least they covered the sound of my breaking heart.

  “All right, then.” He twined his fingers with mine. “Let’s go.”

  Our group started down the street, everyone lost in their own thoughts...their misery over Collins’s loss. There were more cars out now than when we’d first arrived, and even more people, but at least we blended in even better with the evening crowd.

  Desperate for a moment of happiness, I wished Cole and I were simply out on a date. A normal date—our first.

  As long as we’d been a couple, we’d never gone to dinner together.

  So, I went with it. All of our friends were alive. We were happy. He was just a boy, and I was just a girl. He liked me, and I liked him, and the only thing we had to worry about was how far we’d go when we reached my door.

  Answer: as far as he’d allow!

  Hey. This was my fantasy. We’d go further.

  Cole brought my hand to his mouth and kissed my knuckles, bringing me back to the present...the pain. I’d never be able to wish Lucas, Trina, Cruz and Collins back to life.

  “I’m sorry I snapped at you. I was thrown off guard.”

  I’d be the biggest tool ever if I made him beg for my forgiveness after Nana and Kat had so freely given me theirs. “You can make it up to me with a victory massage. But who is—”

  Anguished violet eyes brushed over me, before skittering away. “Don’t say her name. Please.”

  “I won’t.” But now my curiosity was a living thing.

  “I don’t even know if the woman you saw is the one I’m thinking about. There are thousands of people with the same name. But if she is, you can’t trust her. You just can’t. She’s evil in every way. The worst of the worst. A liar and a betrayer.”

  O-kay. Did that mean she’d once been a slayer?

  Had Cole worked with her?

  Probably not. He’d said he knew “of” her, nothing mo
re.

  “Whatever happened back there,” he said, “we’ll figure it out. We always do.”

  Why wasn’t his hope contagious? “What if it’s something bad?” I couldn’t hide the tremor in my voice. “Like when my zombie twin was living inside me.”

  His grip tightened. “Are you asking me if I’ll break up with you?”

  “Yes.” He had before. And a girl never forgot that kind of despair.

  “I deserve that,” he muttered. “The answer is no. Never again. Not for any reason. You’re my girl, Ali. That’s never going to change. There’s no one else I’ve ever wanted more—no one else I ever will. You’re it for me, and if it takes the rest of my life, I’m going to prove it to you.”

  The fierceness he projected...

  I believed him. I also melted against him. “I’m looking forward to that.”

  “You should. I have plans.”

  Goose bumps broke out over my skin. “Plans, huh?”

  “Oh, yeah. Get ready to learn about reasons sixteen through nineteen.”

  Before I could respond—tell me now!—Frosty strode up to Cole’s side, keeping pace. “Hate to break up the foreplay party, but I think we’ve got a tail.”

  Stiffening, Cole said, “How many?”

  “Only four. Three guys, one girl.”

  Anima?

  “We’ll split up.” Cole expelled a breath, mist dancing in front of his face. “Divide their efforts and make it harder for them to track us.”

  Another chase. Great!

  “Where do you want to meet?” Frosty asked.

  Cole thought for a moment. “Ankh’s. They already know we’re staying there, and if they make it that far, his cameras will snap pictures of their faces and we can start IDing these people.”

  I’d opened my mouth to protest, only to press it closed. He was right. We needed IDs. “I like the way your brain works,” I said. It was as sexy as the rest of him.

  “Me, too. Consider it done. See you two on the flip side.” Frosty fell back to take Veronica’s hand. “You’re with me, Ron. And guess what? Team Fronica is about to...”

  I didn’t hear the rest. They were already motoring down the road.

  Cole nodded to Bronx, who took Jaclyn’s hand. They, too, moved away from us.

  My adrenaline spiked, and surprisingly enough, it was all systems go. These people could be the ones who had killed my friends. If they wanted to chase me, fine. Have at it. But it would not end well—for them.

  “You ready for this?” Cole asked.

  “I am, but I can promise you they are not.”

  Chapter 11

  IT’S YOU, NOT ME

  As nonchalantly as possible, Cole ushered me into one of the stores. A bell jingled. Hello, racks of clothing. Hello, line of mannequins. We picked up the pace, darting past the counter.

  As a salesgirl shouted, “Hey!” we snaked an employee-only corner. A small narrow hallway provided three doorways. We opted for the one on the right, the break room, heading for the door in back. The word EXIT glowed overhead.

  Two employees sat at the table. One jumped to his feet and frowned.

  “Customers can’t be back here.”

  “Good thing we’re not customers,” I said as we breezed by.

  We shouldered our way outside, the door slamming behind us. As we ran down a darkened alley, the door slammed a second time. We were being followed. Good. I glanced over my shoulder, cataloging our opponents. A male, our age, a knife hilt sticking out the waist of his leather pants. A female, slightly older, with her weapon already in hand. Both were dressed in black.

  Anima must have sent them to make it look like gang members had finished the job.

  Anger ignited. Another alley loomed ahead. We took a corner at top speed, always staying in the shadows of the buildings. My heart beat against my ribs, a war drum I wasn’t going to deny. Kill...kill...kill...

  “Maybe I can stop them,” I said. I might have had reservations about my new ability, but I wanted our pursuers at my mercy, mine to do with as I pleased. However necessary.

  You have to be careful with this particular skill, Helen had said.

  Why? Right now I couldn’t see a downside.

  “Like you did with zombies?” Cole said. “Maybe, maybe not. You didn’t lift any slayers, so I’m not sure you’d be able to lift an actual person now. Besides, we’re too public.”

  Well, crap. He just had to go and be the voice of reason, didn’t he?

  I could guess how civilians would react to people being tossed into the air by nothing but, well, air. They would panic, and chaos would ensue. Worse, Anima would learn what I could do, and we’d lose a major advantage.

  I filed the new ability in the back of my mind under the heading: Favorite toy. Subtitle: Zombies go boom, boom. Humans? Not sure.

  With a flick of his wrist, Cole lifted the lid of a Dumpster, and for a second, I thought he actually expected me to climb inside. But he jerked me around another corner and finally stopped, pressing me against the wall, acting as my shield. As always. I heard the Dumpster’s lid fall back into place and realized what he was planning.

  Here’s hoping it worked.

  As his warm breath fanned over my face, I reached in my purse and withdrew the Judge, a small revolver that used the same ammo as rifles. This thing could do serious damage.

  I was in a mood to do damage.

  Footsteps echoed...slowing the closer they got to the Dumpster.

  Cole and I shared a look rife with anticipation. He tensed, waiting.

  Then the footsteps ceased altogether. The pair responsible hadn’t reached us, so they must have paused at the receptacle, thinking we were dumb enough to hide inside. The moment we heard the hinges on the lid creak, Cole whipped around the corner and aimed his .44.

  “Drop your weapons,” he commanded.

  Dark curses rang out. There was a rustle of clothing, a thud.

  “I know who you are.” The female. “You won’t kill me.”

  “Try me,” Cole said.

  “You can’t shoot us both,” she taunted. “You can kill one, but by the time you’re ready to aim at the other, you’ll be dead and I’ll get to hunt down your friend. She’s a civilian, isn’t she? Oh, the things I’ll do to her. Maybe I’ll even go after your girlfriend when I’m done. I hear she’s a hulking he-beast.... I’ve always wanted to slay one of those.”

  Time for bad cop/worse cop. I stepped around the corner with my own weapon aimed and ready. “I’ve never been described that way, but I approve. Oh, and if you make a move on him, you’ll get slain.”

  Cole had managed to get the guy on his knees, the butt of a gun pressed against his skull. The girl stood at Cole’s side, her gun aimed at his chest.

  She scowled at me. One heartbeat passed. Two. Three. The tension between us thickened.

  “You’re the he-beast?” she asked.

  “The one and only.”

  She grappled for a response, finally settling on “Well, you won’t squeeze that trigger.”

  My smile was ice and menace. “Try me,” I said, mimicking Cole. “Please. All I need is an excuse.”

  Another heartbeat passed. Ultimately, she dropped her weapon and kicked it toward me. Smart.

  “On your knees,” I demanded. “Put your hands behind your head.”

  “Watch one too many cop dramas?” she mocked.

  “Now!”

  Though she hesitated, she obeyed.

  Would it be wrong to pat myself on the back?

  I studied our pursuers more intently. The girl had a short crop of bleached hair. There were two silver hoops in her eyebrows and a stud in her upper lip. The collar of her black leather jacket gaped open, revealing a shirt that plunged
to her navel in a deep vee. Every bit of visible skin had been marked by black and white tattoos.

  The boy was short and stocky, with a shadow beard that gave him a kind of wolfish look. He had so many muscles he could probably lift a Mack truck over his head without breaking a sweat.

  “Trust me, kiddies,” Stocky said, his grin as cold as mine. “You don’t want to do this.”

  “Wrong,” I replied. “I love doing this. It’s fun.”

  “You’re playing with fire, and you have no idea.” Tattoos raked her golden gaze over me. “But how could a delicate little thing like you know?” she said, sneering. “You think you want to walk on the dark side, but one step over and you’d crumble.”

  Okay, I admit it. My cheeks heated. In our world, “delicate little thing” was the equivalent to a slap in the face.

  “But you,” she continued, looking Cole over. “You’re a big slice of sexy, aren’t you?”

  I pressed my tongue to the roof of my mouth. It didn’t matter where we were, or what we were doing, Cole always garnered female appreciation. He was honey, and women were flies.

  I guess that made me the flyswatter.

  “I’d stop if I were you.” I smiled a little too sweetly, my grip on the gun never wavering. “My trigger finger is developing a twitch.”

  Cole cocked the hammer on his and pressed the barrel more firmly against Stocky’s head. “Enough. Tell us who you are.”

  I loved watching him in action. He was fearless. Steady. A rock that wouldn’t be moved. “Admit you’re with Anima.”

  Stocky spit on the ground. “Hell, no, we aren’t with Anima. We heard about what they did to your crew and how they’re trying to blame us for their work.”

  Plausible.

  “Who are you?” I asked.

  His chest puffed up. “River’s best.”

  Maybe. But that didn’t make him an ally. Cole never lowered his weapon.

  On a roll, Stocky said, “Anima’s pitting us against each other, probably hoping we’ll destroy each other and save them the hassle.”

  “If I don’t like your next few answers,” I said, “they’ll get their wish. Why were you following us? And what about the other two? If our friends are hurt...”