The White Rabbit Chronicles

by Gena Showalter

  Helen Conway.

  Helen.

  My Helen.

  That... Well, it proved what Helen had said that day in the forest. Had it really happened yesterday, even though it felt like forever ago? Her hand had hovered over mine as warmth had flowed through me, passing her ability to me. A gift.

  “Ali,” Kat continued, her voice wobbling. “Ten years ago, Helen died doing a job...for Anima.”

  Chapter 15

  GOT BRAIN?

  Helen died doing a job for Anima.

  The words tumbled through my mind, making me buzz with equal parts bewilderment and frustration. If she had worked for the enemy, why was she helping me now? To lure me in, just to trick me more easily later?

  Smart, yes. But not likely.

  First, she was a Witness, and Witnesses worked for Team Good, never Team Evil. Second, a monster wouldn’t have cared about giving up her little girl.

  But her remorse...a dream, nothing more.

  No. I didn’t think so. Not anymore. The emotions had been real, the scene vivid. It had happened, no doubt about it. My heart accepted what my mind couldn’t yet understand. Somehow, I’d seen into someone else’s past.

  Yet, here was another conundrum. Helen died ten years ago, roughly twelve months after giving up her little girl. So, where was the little girl? Well, not so little anymore. I remembered the calendar, knew she’d be seventeen...maybe eighteen.

  What was she to me? Because she had to be something. No one else had eyes like ours. I’d always thought I’d inherited mine from my dad, even though his were dark blue. Apples and oranges, I admitted now.

  How was Cole going to react to this?

  I peered at Kat. “Would you hate me if I skipped out on another girls’ day?”

  “Only for a minute. Then I’ll get over myself.”

  I smiled. “If I was into girls...”

  “I know! You’d be all over me. You wouldn’t be able to help yourself. But that’s true of every person on the planet.”

  Healthy ego intact? Check. I kissed her cheek and gave Reeve a hug. “Thanks, guys.”

  “I notice you didn’t ask about my hate,” Reeve quipped.

  “You’re not likely to claw my face off in a fit of pique.”

  She nodded. “That’s fair.”

  I paced outside Mr. Ankh’s office for ten...fifteen minutes, but the conversation remained on business, and I couldn’t interrupt. I finally gave up and holed up in my room to pore over the journal and compare its pages to the pictures on my phone.

  The effort paid off. I found a missing page in the journal, the paper ripped close to the binding. My mind leaped from one thought to the next. The copied page had come from Anima. Helen had worked for them. If she came from my mother’s side, she could have had access to the journal. She could have ripped out a page and handed it over.

  That would make her the traitor Cole was certain she was.

  No time to process. Cole strode into my room and shut the door. Gasping, guilty, I shut the journal and jolted to my feet.

  “You’re here,” I said and gulped.

  He frowned. “Do you not want me to be?”

  Yes. No. Maybe. “Will you...” crap “...tell me what you know about Helen Conway.” I couldn’t avoid this topic anymore, didn’t want to. “Please.”

  “What do you want to know?”

  Everything. “Anything.”

  “Why?”

  “Tell me. Then I’ll outline my reasons.”

  He scrubbed a hand down his face. “She worked for Anima with Veronica’s mom. They were roommates, friends. Then Veronica’s mom abandoned ship. She didn’t.”

  “How did she die?”

  “My dad killed her.”

  Okay. That, I couldn’t have predicted. “Because she worked for Anima?”

  His eyes narrowed, hate swimming in their depths. “Zombies might have been the smoking gun that killed my mother, but she pulled the trigger. She sent them. Then she collared my mother’s spirit and sent her after me and my dad.”

  And I was most likely related to her? Might vomit. “Cole. I’m so sorry.”

  He waved away my sympathy, too upset to accept it.

  “How do you know she was responsible?” I asked.

  “She cornered my dad about a week before, bragged about what she was going to do.”

  Wait. I shook my head, unsure. Bragged—or warned?

  I don’t want to think the worst about her, do I? No matter the evidence stacked against her.

  “After...just after, my dad went after her,” he said, gritting his teeth. “He shot her. And if you want to know any more than that, I’ll have to ask him.”

  This had to be a nightmare for him, like ripping scabs off old wounds, and I hated that—but it didn’t stop me. “Yes, please.” I had to know the truth. “Ask him.”

  He stalked across the room to make the call. I dialed Nana.

  “Ali!” Hearing her voice warmed some of the chill that had taken root inside me. “How are you?”

  “I’m...okay.”

  “Okay? Well, that’s not very banging, is it?”

  Banging? Oh, Nana. Not that word. Please, no. “What are you up to?” I thought I heard waves lapping in the background.

  “Strangely enough, I’m chillaxing. I hate to admit this, but...it’s nice. Since your pops died, I’ve been... Well, you know. I didn’t realize I needed this. And that makes me feel so guilty! Especially because you’re there, doing I don’t know what, and I probably don’t want to know what.”

  True. “You don’t need to worry about me. I am kicking butt and not bothering with names.”

  “Oh, sweetheart. That’s wonderful. But are you eating properly? Resting? Doing the horizontal hokey pokey with Cole?”

  I nearly choked on my own tongue. “Nana!”

  “It’s a legitimate question, dear. One that deserves an answer.”

  “No!” I blurted, certain I was a nice shade of lobster-red. “I’m not.” Not technically. I cleared my throat, then, changing the subject, asked, “Are you safe?”

  “Never been safer.”

  “Good. That’s good.” I paused. “Nana,” I said, launching into an urgent, back-and-forth pace, “am I related to a girl named Helen Conway?”

  Silence.

  Such heavy silence.

  “Nana?”

  “Ali,” she said. She cleared her throat. “She’s my niece. Your mother’s cousin. Why?” Gone was her joviality.

  So. There was a familial connection. Which meant I had a relative who’d (1) worked for Anima and (2) killed Cole’s mom. Awesome.

  “Why have I never heard of her before? You’ve never talked about her. Mom never talked about her. Why?”

  Again, silence, and I wasn’t sure what to think.

  Then she said, “She took off right after high-school graduation. I never heard from her again.”

  “What of her parents?”

  “They’re dead,” Nana added, “just as Helen is.”

  “What about—”

  “Ali. Let’s drop this, all right? Please.” Her desperation tugged at my heartstrings, and if I’d been made of weaker stuff, I would have done as she’d asked.

  But I wasn’t. “I can’t. I won’t.” None of her family—my family—had known Helen worked for Anima. Otherwise, they would have known about the zombies, and none of them had. “I have to know everything. I deserve to know.”

  Cole stepped in front of me. The muscles in his face were like stone, or ice, carved from a blade surely honed in the fires of rage, and it kind of scared me. He’d never looked at me like that.

  “Nana,” I said. “It’s your lucky day. You’re gonna get the reprieve you w
ant. But I’m calling you tomorrow, and I expect you to answer all of my questions.”

  “All right,” she said and sighed. “Tomorrow. Just know that, no matter what, I love you. So much. Never forget that.”

  What wasn’t she telling me? Whatever it was, it frightened her. Badly. Made her think I’d grow to...what? Hate her? Not gonna happen. “I love you, too. I’ll always love you.”

  Trembling, I set my phone aside. I opened my mouth to ask Cole what was wrong, but he just handed me his phone.

  “Mr. Holland?” I asked.

  He didn’t waste time with pleasantries. “I graduated a year before your parents.”

  Um, okay. “That’s...nice?”

  “Just listen,” he barked, startling me. “I kept track of the students in the grades behind me, always on the lookout for new recruits. I was especially interested in your dad. But you know that already. You also know he wasn’t interested in me.”

  “I don’t—”

  “He started dating Helen his senior year.”

  Wait.

  What? My dad and Helen?

  “I tried to recruit them both, in fact. Unlike your dad, she was interested. Then, from what I’ve been able to piece together, your dad met your mom at some family get-together and dumped Helen that same night. He and Miranda started dating the next day. A few months later, all three graduated. Your dad and mom got married almost right away, and Helen took off. I’m not sure when she started working for Anima. All I know is that she returned to Birmingham six years later. There were rumors she’d had a daughter, but the little girl, Samantha, had died.”

  Wait, wait, wait. Back up. That sweet little girl was dead?

  Reeling. “Died how?”

  “Zombie bite.”

  I didn’t like that, wouldn’t believe it until I had proof. Rumors weren’t always true. If they were, Cole would have horns, fangs and a forked tail and I would, apparently, look like a he-man. What if the girl, Samantha, was out there?

  Could she be my...sister?

  What did I know about her?

  Helen had packed a bag for her. Had planned to send her to her dad.

  “Who’s the girl’s father?” I asked, then froze, ice actually crystallizing in my veins. Dark suspicions were like a cascade of wind. What if she wasn’t my sister, but I was...

  “Don’t know that, either,” he said.

  Nana’s reaction to my questions...

  Helen saying, “They’ll think that you’re...” to the little girl.

  Dead, I finished now and knew I was right.

  And Mr. Holland had called the little girl Samantha. Sami. The name Helen spoke the first time she appeared to me. At the time, I thought she was telling me her name. But she’d clearly been saying her daughter’s name...while looking at me. Calling me—

  No!

  I vividly remembered my mom—my real mom—telling me she’d named me after my dad’s mother at birth. So, why was I even traveling this path? It was impossible. I had no memories of Helen.

  Well, except for the dreams.

  I struggled to breathe. The truth was, I had no memories of the first five years of my life.

  Five, not six.

  The difference mattered. I couldn’t be Sami. I’d gotten it right the first time. Sister.

  But...two facts niggled at me. One, there were very few pictures of my early years, and those we had were of me. Just me. I’d never thought that strange before.

  I thought it strange now.

  Two, I’d always felt like the odd man out at my grandparents’ house. Like they’d seen something in Emma they hadn’t seen in me.

  I pushed out a breath.

  Time to break down the facts. Helen had dated my dad. Probably slept with him. She’d disappeared soon after graduation. To escape the pain of seeing my mom and dad together—to hide a pregnancy?

  Then, after her death, she’d come back to help a long-lost second cousin, the daughter of the man who’d betrayed her, and not the company she’d worked for? No. But someone with a closer connection to her? Far more likely.

  And really, birthdays could be changed as easily as names.

  If she was... If it was true... Can’t possibly be true. Why wait so long to reveal herself? Why come to me now and not, say, when I first lost my parents? Or when I battled Zombie Ali?

  Questions, questions. So many questions.

  “There you have it,” Mr. Holland said, drawing me back to our conversation. “Everything I know. Now. I want you to tell me why this information is so important to you.”

  Did he suspect what I did?

  I shook my head, even though I knew he couldn’t see the action. My gaze found Cole. He wasn’t looking at me, but over my shoulder, his eyes narrowed, his lips compressed into a thin line. If Helen was...my mother—no, she couldn’t be my mother; I refused to believe it—then the woman who had given birth to me had helped kill the woman who had given birth to him, and in a bid for revenge, his dad had murdered her for it.

  It was a sick, twisted history. How could two people in a romantic relationship ever hope to recover?

  I walked to the window and peered out into the dwindling light. The sun was hidden, the sky gray. The rabbit cloud was still there, only darker. Menacing, like my mood.

  “I’m going to go now, Mr. Holland,” I said softly. I had a lot to think about—a lot I didn’t want to think about.

  He sighed. “I understand. But we’re going to talk. Soon.”

  “Soon.” I hung up.

  Right now, I needed Emma. She would tell me how silly I was to worry. And that’s exactly what I was doing. What I’d told myself I’d never do. Worse, I was probably doing it for nothing.

  “You are related to my mother’s killer,” Cole said, “and I’m related to your mom’s cousin’s killer, but we’ll get through it.”

  He didn’t understand. Didn’t know what I suspected. Would he change his mind then?

  My gaze snagged on the gate that circled the entire property line and widened. “No.” But the image didn’t change. Zombies were already out, and they were here.

  “We’ll put the work in,” he said.

  Hundreds of the creatures gripped the iron, shaking it. It had been doused in the Blood Lines and was solid to them, even though they were in spirit form. They couldn’t bypass it, but they could grow tired of waiting and turn their attention to the other homes in the area, killing innocents.

  How had they gotten past Mr. Ankh’s reinforced security? He had monitors capable of seeing zombie evil—on screen, they glowed as red as their eyes—to alert him whenever a zombie horde approached. But right now, he had no idea. Otherwise, an alarm would have been blasting.

  “Cole,” I choked. “Zombies. They’re here.”

  He joined me at the window and peered out. He stiffened, saying, “We have to warn the others.”

  As we hurried down the hall, he banged on every door, shouting, “We’ve got visitors. More Z’s than we’ve ever fought before.”

  Behind the doors, footsteps pounded. Hinges squeaked and then our friends rushed out, dressing along the way, River and Camilla among them.

  We congregated in the dungeon, where Mr. Ankh kept a stash of weapons.

  “I thought you guys were boring,” River said, his tone jovial, “but you certainly know how to liven things up.”

  “Yeah,” Gavin said with a nod. “We’re good like that. You’re welcome.”

  Ignoring them, Kat said to Frosty, “Don’t go catching butterflies,” as he strapped a pair of short swords to his back. “Go to the roof and clip their wings with a rifle or something.”

  “If bullets killed them, Kitty, that would be a great plan,” he replied. “But it takes the fire in my hands.”

 
“Not just yours. Other slayers have fire.”

  “Yes, and those other slayers need someone guarding their backs.”

  “Why are you being so logical?” Kat beat at his arms, only to stop and sigh. “I know, I know. You’re right. I don’t like it, but I do understand.” She chewed on her bottom lip. “I hate that I can’t see them. That I can’t help you in some way.”

  “Knowing you’re in here waiting for me helps.” He placed a swift kiss on the tip of her nose, like Cole often did to me. “Trust me. I’m not going to let anything stop me from getting back to you.”

  Reeve was silent as she slammed the clip in a SIG and handed it to Bronx. Jaclyn stared at a sword, unmoving. Everyone else was murmuring about what I’d wondered—how was this possible?

  Mr. Ankh sat at a long desk covered by multiple computers, the wall in front of him shrouded by monitors. He was typing furiously at a keyboard. The fact that so many zombies were here at the same time told me Anima had sent them, was probably controlling them with the collars.

  But...I don’t recall seeing collars on very many of them.

  “What are you doing?” Cole demanded, nudging me. “Arm up.”

  “Sir, yes, sir.”

  He glared at me before stomping to Frosty to develop a game plan.

  “You’re a freaking ray of sunshine, you know that,” I called.

  He didn’t even glance at me.

  I grabbed my axes, a sword and two guns, and a grinning River approached me.

  “I hear you’re something special on the battlefield,” he said. “Better than what I witnessed in the pit.”

  “I have my moments,” I acknowledged, glad for the distraction.

  “Well, you’re in for a treat. I have moments, too. Practically every single one I live. So let’s do ourselves a favor and make things interesting.”

  “Are you challenging me to a Zombie Kill-off?”

  “Person who slays more evil spirits wins?” He nodded. “Done.”

  “Not done. There’s no way to keep track. I ash them a horde at a time.”

  His grin widened. “Smack talk already.”

  “Truth talk.”

  “If you aren’t good enough to count your kills, well, you’ve already lost. At least try to redeem yourself.” He patted my shoulder before striding to Camilla’s side.