To Ali: What about: I love a girl w/BRAAAINS
Not everything is on track, though. Camilla has had a nightmare every night, her moans drawing me out of bed. I've witnessed the ends of her fingers catching fire. A flame here, a flame there, though they never burn more than a few seconds--but even that's too long. Explains the soot, at least.
What I can't reason out? Why the flames are the color of blood.
I dose her with antidote every morning, and a few times Reeve has come over to collect blood samples for testing. But whatever the cause of the odd-colored flames, Camilla is always in top form during the day. The perfect bodyguard.
Once, we were ambling down a sidewalk and a car backfired. She jumped in front of me, thinking someone was shooting at me. And every time I enter a building, she insists on going in first, just in case someone is lying in wait.
She takes her role seriously and...hell, it's starting to bother me. Despite everything, I don't want her taking a bullet meant for me, even if she won't be harmed. Hell, she'd probably like it better if she was harmed. The way she rubs that Betrayal tattoo, yeah, I know guilt is her constant companion.
"Frosty? Are you even listening to me?" Kat snaps her fingers in front of my face.
"Your words are poetry," I say out of habit. "Of course I'm listening."
She visits me once a day, as promised, but only for an hour. Today, I chose to spend our time in the kitchen rather than my bedroom. Don't ask me why.
Because the counter has been doused in Blood Lines, she's able to sit in front of me, legs crossed, as I eat a perfectly mediocre sandwich. Camilla is in the living room, watching TV and enjoying a bowl of what she calls SpaghettiOs-oh-ohs. Somehow she was able to turn a canned mess into a gourmet meal with sauteed peppers and a mix of spices.
"Frosty," Kat says on a sigh.
"I'm one hundred percent invested in this conversation." I want a bite of those SpaghettiOs-oh-ohs so bad I'm willing to risk a forking to get it.
"You're killing me here," Kat mutters.
I glare at her.
She smirks.
Every day, I've tried to charm her, to make her fall in love with me again. Today, though, my heart just isn't in it. She's resisted me at every turn, kept me in the friend zone, and my shredded heart just can't take anymore.
I love you, kitten.
I love you, too. Hey, ask Ali about such and such girl. She's pretty.
I'm tired, so tired. And hell, did Camilla just take the last bite of those SpaghettiOs-oh-ohs?
"You feeling okay?" Kat waves her hand to encompass my entire body. "Or are you coming down with something?"
Used to be, she would have given me a sizzling kiss and said something like, "If you're going to die of plague, I'm going to die of plague." She'd had a spark, a zest for life. Now? She's all business all the time.
"I'm fine," I say and glance--again--at Camilla.
She looks away hastily. Has she been watching me? The way I've so often found myself watching her...
"Usually I have to tell a guy to look away from my boobs," Kat says, "not another girl."
I grit my teeth. "You want me to fall for another girl, remember? You insist on it. You can't get pissed when I oblige."
"Not her," she says quietly. "Anyone but her."
I don't want Camilla, not like that--damn it, I don't.
A beep sounds from my phone, saving me from a reply. Kat attempts to lift the device, but her hand ghosts through it and she growls with frustration, banging a fist against the counter, rattling my plate.
I read the text to her. "Cole says knock, knock."
"That's it?"
I nod and set the phone aside.
"Well. Aren't you going to respond to him?"
"Later." My phone beeps again. "Knock, knock," I read.
"Frosty," Kat says on another sigh.
Fine. I type, Who's there?
Cole: Me. I'm @ UR door. Open up.
Knock, knock.
The noise actually comes from my front door. My gaze lands on Camilla, and she stands, her body tense.
"I know you're in there," Cole calls through the wood. "I'm not leaving."
Kat smiles at me with a mix of affection and sadness. "He's got a proposition for you. You'll want to say no, but I expect you to suck it up and say yes." A second later, she's gone.
Thank God for distractions. I wasn't sure how much more Slayer and Ghost: A Love Story I could take. And okay. All right. Part of my irritation stems from my fascination. Frosty used to transform from caterpillar to butterfly every time Kat visited. His features would freaking glow. He would laugh and joke. Today, however, not even Kat is able to cheer him up. He's as sullen and snappy with her as he is with me. Why?
Has he finally given up on her?
Do I want him to?
Well, I'm not gonna think about it right now. We have a visitor. Hopefully he'll stay awhile, and I won't have to spend the evening worrying about the coming nightmare. And it will come. I have one every night now, no exceptions.
I palm a dagger just in case Cole's here under duress, and move in front of Frosty to open the door.
Nope. No one has a gun to Cole's head. My weapon goes back into its sheath.
The beautiful Cole is not alone, however. Ali and Gavin flank him, both giants compared to me.
Cole and Ali nod at me. Gavin wiggles his brows.
"I can answer my own door, thanks." Frosty comes up beside me.
"You can, but you won't."
He glares at me before focusing on his friends. "What's up?"
"My blood pressure if you don't let me in." Ali pushes her way past us.
Cole follows suit. "Love, Justin, Jaclyn and River are on patrol with some of our new recruits."
Love. Mackenzie Love, Cole's ex. And Justin Silverstone. About a year ago, Justin betrayed Cole's team and aided Anima, believing their "we make the world a better place" propaganda. When the company abducted and tortured his sister, Jaclyn, all in an effort to force him to do more, to do worse to the friends he once fought alongside, he flipped sides once again. And yes, he had to go to great lengths to earn back their trust, but in the end, he succeeded.
I can't hope for the same. Once bonded, always bonded with this group, and I've never had the luxury.
"So...River's in town," I say. He's out there. He's hunting zombies, teaching newbies, living his life without me. "He's okay?"
Ali's features soften. "Yeah. He's fine."
Recruiting is something my group has always done, but this is a first for Cole. Trust issues, I guess. But now that Anima has been defeated, he must be willing to try new things, to help kids who have no idea they're slayers; they just know they're different.
"No zombies have emerged in weeks and no one has seen a rabbit cloud in the sky," Cole says.
I'd heard Ali's sister, Emma, somehow shapes a cloud to look like a rabbit whenever she sees zombies stirring in their nests. A warning. Kinda like riding into town on a pony, shouting, "The undead are coming! The undead are coming!" But I don't rely on that cloud like these guys. Emma can see a lot, I'm sure, but she can't see everything. I think Frosty agrees with me, otherwise he'd have stayed home the past few rabbit-cloudless weeks.
"We're on call, just in case," Cole adds, "so there won't be any drinking. But. Yeah. I said but. We're going to Hearts and hanging out like we used to. You're coming."
"A night off? No." Frosty shakes his head.
"Why? You got a hot date with a zombie?" Ali scans him from head to toe. "Seriously. I'm not just using the best pickup line ever when I say you look good enough to eat."
Cole cracks his knuckles. "I hope you're happy, Ali-gator. Now I have to kill my best friend."
"Don't be hatin'." Frosty brushes an invisible piece of lint from his shoulder. "She can't help her crush on me. No one can."
If only a snort would be appropriate. Problem is, he does look good enough to eat in a black T-shirt and roughed-up denims and girls can't
help their crush on him.
"My answer is still no," Frosty adds.
"Don't listen to him. We'd love to join you for a night out." I need to escape this apartment, like, yesterday. And whether Frosty knows it or not, he could use some time away, too. Hanging out with a dead ex-girlfriend can't be all that great for his mental heath.
He latches on to my wrist. This is the first time he's ever purposely, willingly touched me, and the contact is electric, startling me. Suddenly, my skin burns and tingles. I don't understand such a physical reaction, but maybe he feels it, too; he lets me go as if I'm leaking toxic waste.
"We're hunting, as usual," he says.
"Wrong. You heard your friends. We'll be told if any zombies are found." I push him into the hall, and the others follow him out. I shut and lock the door. "I can't take any more of your man-pouting. Kat's dead, but guess what? You're not. Why don't you at least pretend to be alive."
Ali actually gasps. As if she isn't always that blunt. Gavin gives me the stink eye, like I've just skinned his favorite cat. They can suck it. I've spent the last three weeks with Frosty, living in his lair, watching his every move. Subtlety always flies right over his head.
"I don't need to pretend," he grits. "I know I'm alive."
"Great. Now prove it."
"Oh, I'll prove it all right." He stomps down the hall.
Like him, I'm already dressed for the occasion in an ice-blue cami, skinny jeans and knee-high boots to better hide my knives. Part of my "always be prepared for anything" plan.
The group crams into Cole's Jeep. Gavin takes the backseat with Ali and me, putting Frosty in front with Cole. That doesn't stop my charge from glaring at me over his shoulder numerous times, blaming me for his current whereabouts.
"Bad moods are contagious. Lighten up." Ali leans forward to pat the top of his head.
"Make me," he mumbles like a child. He stares out the window, at the pine trees, giant boulders and hills illuminated by streetlamps. "FYI, if a stranger says the wrong thing to me, I'll be arrested for assault. Anyone have bail money?"
"Sorry, bro, but I only have enough for myself." Gavin pats the wallet in his pocket. "Have a feeling I'm gonna need it."
While he's talking, I stealthily palm the wallet--without his knowledge--remove the cash and return the empty container to its place.
"I'll bail you out," I tell Frosty.
The car goes silent. Crickets might as well chirp. What'd I say this time?
"Thanks," he finally mutters.
"Well, I'll leave you both behind bars to rot--and learn a valuable lesson," Ali says.
Cole squeezes her thigh. "I'm sure I'll be sitting right beside them."
"Hopefully learning the same valuable lesson." Ali nudges my shoulder. "Have you been sticking to Frosty's side?"
"Yes, Mom. I have."
"What about those bathroom breaks you wanted?"
Frosty twists in the seat, his gaze sparkling. "Did she tell you to follow me into the men's crapper, as if someone will dare attack me while I'm doing my business?"
He's looking at me with humor. Not hatred. Not disgust. And he's never looked more gorgeous. What kind of miracle is this? "Yeah. But don't worry. I've settled for listening at the door."
"How kind of you."
He turns away, but it doesn't matter. For the rest of the drive, I feel like I'm floating on clouds.
We park in back of the club, and though the lot is jam-packed with cars of all shapes, sizes and colors, Cole has no problem finding a place. One of the spots in front is empty, safeguarded by a sign that reads "Reserved for Holland."
I'm trembling with excitement as I emerge. No matter what, I'm having fun tonight. The decision has been made.
The moon looks like an upside-down smile. There are no clouds but countless stars sparkling like diamonds on a bed of black velvet. The air smells of exhaust, cologne and sweat, and even though it's unpleasant, it beats the odor of rot.
As I trail behind Frosty, I guard his six, my gaze constantly scanning for trouble. To the right, a couple is making out hardcore against a Porsche. To the left, a girl is shoving her drunken friend into the backseat of a beige sedan.
Two beefy security guards block the front doors, but they allow us to enter despite boos and hisses rising from the mile-long line. We're even allowed upstairs in the VIP lounge, where the music isn't so loud and we have an unobstructed view of the dance floor.
A hostess--young and pretty with dark hair and gorgeous skin the color of burnished copper--rushes over. "Welcome back, Mr. Holland."
Cole is all business. "Is my usual table available?"
"No, sir. We didn't know you were coming and--"
"Make it available," he says.
"Yes, yes, of course." She rushes off and returns a few minutes later to lead us to an empty booth in the far right corner, hidden from the rest of the club by black-as-night drapes.
Ali slides in, Cole right behind her. Gavin goes in at the opposite side, leaving Frosty and me standing there like idiots. I'm about to take the seat next to Gavin when another girl races over to give Frosty a hug and kiss on the cheek and if that's not enough, she clings to his arm.
"Logan! It's been weeks. I've missed you so much."
Logan--oh, yeah, his he-slut hall-of-shame name.
Frosty sits beside Cole, forcing the girl to release him. He pulls at his collar, clearly uncomfortable and probably flipping through mental files and coming up blank. The poor girl doesn't get the hint and asks him a thousand questions about his life. As if she has every right to know.
Gavin tries not to laugh. Cole doesn't notice, he's too busy cuddling Ali.
Frosty's gaze meets mine and I swear he's begging for help.
I finally claim a seat--the one right next to him. There's not really room for me, but whatever. I drape my arm around his shoulders and he leans into me. "My sweet Frosty has forgotten his manners, hasn't he? I'm Milla and you're...?"
"Patricia." The girl pales. "You're his girlfriend?"
"Well, you tell me. I've been living with this delicious slice of beefcake for three magical weeks, spending every waking moment with him." I shake a hand at the ceiling. "I try my hardest to keep my hands to myself, but...my little pookie bear needs me. Isn't that right, lollipop?"
"That's right, sugar tush."
Sugar tush? Well, I've been called worse.
The girl stammers out an apology and at last leaves.
"Thanks," Frosty mutters.
I release him and say, "Bang and bail protection is just one of the many services I offer."
Our waiter arrives to take our drink orders. He's a good-looking guy with a leanly muscled frame. His hair is purple and there are three silver piercings in his brow.
If I'm not mistaken, he gives me an extrasweet smile when I request two shots of Grey Goose. Forget Cole's no drinking rule. This is my one night off; I'm blowing my budget--well, Gavin's budget--and partying like a rock star.
"You follow instructions so well." Ali frowns at me. "I'll have a ginger ale."
The others order the same. Their loss.
Waiter McCutie winks at me before rushing off. I'm not asked for ID or payment, which is a first. And I don't have to wait while he serves other, nicer--wealthier-looking-- customers. He returns a few minutes later and distributes the drinks. I've never been a top priority before.
"Thank you," Frosty says, stealing one of my shots. He drains it before I can work up a good protest. "Didn't think I'd ever have another one of those, but what the hell."
"Cheers." I drain my own. The liquid burns going down, but quickly settles in my stomach like warm honey.
"Can I get you anything else?" Waiter McCutie asks.
"Another round," I say. "And keep 'em coming."
Again, he isn't gone long.
Frosty steals a second shot. This time we clink our glasses before the liquid goes down the hatch.
Ali shakes her head in protest. "You guys suck."
Her frown returns. "One, we don't kill them if we can save them, and two, I never drink."
Cole gives her shoulders a squeeze, and it's clear he knows something about her I don't.
"What about you?" I ask him.
"I'm driving," he says. "A task I take seriously."
I admire their sense of responsibility, even as I pick up two new glasses. "More for me. Bottoms up."
"Hold on a sec." Gavin swipes one from my hand and drains the contents. "You convinced me."
Ali slaps his shoulder.
"What? She gives good argument."
"You are such a traitor," she grumbles.
"A smart traitor. Do you know how long it's been since I've had a good buzz?" He eyes each of us. "Two days."
"A torturous eternity," Frosty says drily.
I toss back my shot, then another and another. By the time I've emptied the last one, the burn is completely gone, my head swimming. I hate feeling out of control almost as much as I love feeling uninhibited and carefree.
I turn to signal Waiter McCutie...and find he's already back and crouching beside me, watching me with a grin. "Hi," he says.
"Hi," I say back.
"Came to see if you needed anything else."
"More Grey Goose, please."
"My pleasure." But he doesn't take off just yet. "This your first time at Hearts?"
"Nope." Not only had I come here looking for Frosty the night after Kat first appeared to me, but I'd also come here thanks to Anima--to pretend to fight and at last hand over Ali. The night my secret came to light and my brother disowned me. "But I'm kinda glad you missed my debut."
"Why?" His grin grows wider. "Did you trip and fall?"
"Hardly." I burp discreetly into my hand. "I'm so graceful and ladylike it's scary."
McCutie laughs out loud. "Did you drink too much and projectile-vomit on your boss's Italian loafers?"
"Please. That kind of thing only happens in books and movies."
"Honey, it happened an hour ago. And last night. And the night before."
An endearment. One he probably uses on every girl he encounters, but I don't care. I've found a person who doesn't hate me, or suspect me of wrongdoing, and I gobble it up.
I crave more.
"You're cute," I tell him.
"Thank you." His grin returns as he twines his fingers with mine. "I'm Jason, by the way."
"You're about to be dead." Frosty grabs Jason by the wrist and must apply enough pressure to hurt because Jason flinches and jerks back. "She's off-limits."
A Mad Zombie Party Page 10
