Through the Zombie Glass wrc-2

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Through the Zombie Glass wrc-2 Page 3

by Gena Showalter

And Cole had actually called Nana? “That’s sweet of you, but I don’t want us to spend money on an article of clothing I’ll only wear once. I can make something I already own work.”

  Smiling, she patted my hand. “Darling, we’re not destitute. We have the insurance settlement.”

  “But we are saving for a house of our own.” There were conditions for living here, and with conditions came an expiration date. I wanted Nana taken care of for the rest of her life, no surprises. In fact, I should probably find a job...though that might prove impossible, considering I would need to take time off for school and slaying.

  No. There had to be a way.

  “I’m getting you a costume, young lady, and that’s final. I’m looking forward to this.”

  I sighed. “All right, but something from the thrift store will work just fine.”

  She kissed the top of my head and followed the same path Reeve had taken. Without agreeing, I realized too late.

  My phone vibrated, and I checked the screen.

  Cole McHottie (as Kat had dubbed him): I can’t leave the gym 2 get U, Ali-gator, I’m sorry. But we R still on 4 2nite. I miss U

  I wondered what had happened to keep him trapped at the gym.

  Disappointed, I looked to Kat.

  “So, where are you and Cole going?” she asked.

  “Hearts, I’m sure.” It was the only nightclub the slayers frequented. “Now, about your phone calls and texts. I wasn’t ignoring you, I promise. It’s just strange, knowing you now know what I know, yet trying to buffer you from the worst of the details.”

  “It’s not strange. It’s terrible! I hate knowing, but I’ve decided to girl up and finally discuss the...you-knows from now on. And just so we’re clear, girling up is far better than manning up.”

  “Good. About the you-knows.” Knowledge was power, and I wanted her safe. Always.

  The housekeeper bustled into the kitchen, spotted me, and asked if she could fix me something to eat. I declined, and she loaded a tray with croissants and cappuccino to take to Mr. Ankh. The fragrance of yeast and sugar mingled, filling the room and making my mouth water.

  The moment she was gone, I hopped up to wipe the crumbs from the counter. Then I grabbed the bag of bagels I’d bought with my allowance and offered one to Kat.

  She shook her head. “So...I’m sure you surmised from my oh so subtle texts that Frosty and I are over. Or is it Frosty and me? I always forget. Anyway, it’s for reals this time.”

  “What happened?” I devoured the bagel in record time, and though I craved a second one so bad, I resisted. The longer these lasted, the fewer I would have to buy, and the less I’d have to spend.

  “Last night,” she said, looking miserable, “I wasn’t feeling well—not that Frosty knew that part. I asked him to stay with me, and he refused.”

  “When the you-knows are out, he has to fight. We all do, if we’re well. It’s our duty.” Our privilege.

  “A night off wouldn’t have killed him,” she grumbled.

  “But it might have killed his friends. They need all the backup they can get.”

  She frowned at me. “Do you have to be so reasonable, tossing out such intelligent responses?”

  “I’m sorry. I’ll try to do better.”

  “Thank you.”

  I studied her. She was such a beautiful girl. Petite, but curvy. Fragile, yet resilient. Her mom had suffered with the same kidney disease most of her too-short life. Kat was militant about keeping her declining health from Frosty and the boys, and so far she’d succeeded.

  She lived for the moment. She never held back—in words or in action. She had no desire to fade from the world, but wanted to make an impact, a difference, and go out swinging. I could help her with that.

  “How would you feel about learning to defend yourself against the you-knows?” I asked. My dad had trained me to fight them before I’d possessed the ability to see them, and that training had been invaluable when my circumstances changed. Maybe Kat would see the zombies one day. Maybe she wouldn’t. Either way, I could equip her to make smarter choices.

  “I’d feel...great. I think.”

  “That’s good enough for me. Cole has a gym, and it’s loaded with all the equipment we’ll need. I can show you how to shoot a gun and use a bow and arrow.”

  She waved a hand through the air, probably trying for dismissive, but I saw the gleam of fear behind the action. “No need for that part of the training.”

  “You’ve used both weapons before?”

  “No, but the unaimed weapon never misses. I’d rather stick with that method.”

  I rolled my eyes.

  “Will Frosty be there?” She nibbled on her bottom lip as she waited for my answer.

  “Maybe.”

  I couldn’t tell whether that pleased her or upset her; the chewing never stopped. “Well, today’s, like, the biggest holiday of the year, so I’ll pencil you in for noon sharp tomorrow. Or maybe sometime next week would be best. Yes. Definitely next week.”

  “Nope. You’ll pencil me in for now and tomorrow and next week. I’m not letting you put this off. We’re going to turn you into a rabid, frothing-at-the-mouth fighting machine. You’ll be so hard-core, you’ll be able to knock Frosty on his butt as easily as breathing.”

  A scary kind of anticipation lit her features. “Okay, I’m in. But only because I know I’ll look good with biceps. True story.” She drained what remained of her coffee and slammed the mug onto the table. “Let’s go before I change my mind.”

  I left my grandmother a note, telling her not to expect me back until after lunch and that I loved her. I thought about texting Cole, but quickly discarded the idea. I’d surprise him.

  “You want to drive?” Kat asked as I made a beeline for the passenger side of her Mustang. “You have a permit.”

  Acid burned a path up my throat. “No thanks. You’re not old enough to be my escort or whatever.”

  “But you need the practice.”

  “Another day,” I hedged.

  “That’s what I said about training, and you shot me down.”

  “Do you want to reach the gym in fifteen minutes or fifteen hours?” I asked. If I had to pick between driving and bathing in manure, I’d pick the manure. Every time. “You know how slow I go.”

  “True.” She settled behind the wheel.

  “Did Frosty ever take you to Cole’s gym? Not the one in his garage, but the gym several miles from his house?” The seat belt rubbed against my wound, and I shifted uncomfortably.

  “Nope. According to Frosty, the high and mighty workout station for stallions—his words, not mine—is off-limits to nonslayers.”

  Not any longer. I gave her the address without a qualm. The boys had brought Kat into this treacherous world of secrets, and they could deal with the consequences.

  As we soared down the highway, I checked the sky for the rabbit-shaped cloud Emma used to warn me about coming zombie attacks. Today, there wasn’t one, and I breathed a sigh of relief.

  Kat swerved to avoid hitting another car, and I yelped.

  “Is my driving making you nervous?” she asked. “I mean, you’re supertense. Which is silly, considering the fact that I’ve only been in, like, three wrecks since you were confined to a bed, and, when you think about it, none of them were my fault. I mean, sure, I was in the wrong lane, texting, but the other drivers had plenty of time to move out of my way.”

  How was she still alive? “Mad Dog, you are the best worst driver I know.”

  She preened. “That might be the sweetest compliment anyone’s ever given me. Thank you.”

  A car honked as she swerved across four lanes to exit the highway, and she seemed utterly oblivious. “So, you and Cole are at the stage where he’s comfortable enough to call your Nana, huh?”

  “I know. It’s kind of weird, right, and...” Wait. I knew Cole. He’d always been a guy with a plan. A purpose. He never did anything without a rock-solid reason. But what reason could he pos
sibly have had to—

  The answer slammed into me, and I nearly liquefied in my seat. I’d lost my family, and this was my first Halloween without them. He was trying to reduce the number of memories I’d have to battle.

  He didn’t know that I’d never before celebrated Halloween. My dad hadn’t allowed us to leave the house at night, so there had been no reason to buy a costume, and opening the door to strangers to pass out candy had been just as big a no-no.

  “Yeah,” I said to Kat, wishing I could crawl into Cole’s arms and never leave. “We are.”

  “You’re so lucky. My dad has never been a Frosty fan. I’m pretty sure he’s only ever threatened to castrate the boy.”

  Had to be those serial-killer eyes. Sometimes, when Frosty looked at you, you just expected to die horribly. “Your dad still lets you guys date, though.”

  “Yeah, and he always will. When I was first diagnosed with defunct kidneys, he promised to let me make my own decisions and live my life the way I wanted.”

  Good man. “So, what have you decided to do tonight?”

  “The same thing you are. And I didn’t mention it before now because I didn’t want you drowning in jealousy knowing I was out having the best time ever while you were still languishing in your sickbed.” She gripped the steering wheel so tightly her knuckles bleached of color. “I’m trying not to be nervous. I mean, I know all the slayers will be there, but the night will be filled with all kinds of creepers, so how will I know who’s dangerous and who’s not?”

  “You aren’t able to see real zombies,” I reminded her.

  “That doesn’t mean they aren’t there. First, I told Frosty no, but then he said, ‘Would I ever put you at risk, woman?’ And I said, ‘How would I know? You’ve been living a double life since we started dating.’ And he said, ‘You want me to apologize again, don’t you?’ And I said, ‘Every day for the rest of your life.’ He had the nerve to laugh as if I was joking.”

  I smothered a laugh of my own. “So...what’s your costume?”

  “A too-sexy-to-handle Little Red Riding Hood.”

  “Let me guess. Frosty’s going as the Big Bad Wolf.”

  “What else? I have a feeling he thinks it’ll be hilarious to snap his teeth at me and say, ‘I’m going to eat you up, my dear.’”

  Picturing it, I shook my head. “You’re going to tell him to prove it. Aren’t you?”

  “I like that you know me so well.”

  She turned onto a winding gravel road nestled between rows of trees in the process of shedding their fall coats. When the trees finally gave way to fields of wheat, Cole’s “workout station for stallions” became visible—a big red barn that looked ready to topple over. Actually, the thing could withstand a military invasion.

  “This place is in the middle of nowhere,” Kat remarked as she eased to a stop.

  “For many reasons.” Slayers coming at all hours of the day and night. The sheer number of weapons kept here. The condition we sometimes left in.

  There were more cars than usual in the driveway. I frowned as I stepped into the coolness of the day. Grunts, groans and even cheers seeped from the crack in the door. “Come on.” I quickened my pace.

  I stopped just inside the entrance and could only gape. I’d assumed Cole, and maybe the überdedicated Frosty and Bronx would be the only guys willing to forgo a countrywide day off.

  Kat bumped into me and froze. “Oh, spank me,” she whispered, her tone reverent.

  Here they were, all of the slayers in all their glory. There was enough testosterone in the air to jump-start the deadest of hearts. Most of the boys were shirtless, displaying bronzed muscles honed from more than just weights—honed from hacking at the enemy. I saw wicked scars, sexy tattoos and piercings, and even a few house-arrest anklets.

  The blond and scarily beautiful Frosty pounded his fists into a poor, defenseless punching bag. The rough-and-tumble Bronx held the thing in place, his feet planted firmly on the floor. There was no force on earth that could move him, even one as violent as Frosty. Collins ran on a treadmill, and Cruz lifted weights.

  And Cole, well, he was in the boxing ring with a girl I didn’t recognize.

  There was an unfamiliar boy standing at the side, watching the pair. The only other females in the room were Mackenzie—Cole’s very feral ex—and Trina, a girl Kat had yet to forgive for not having a summer fling with Frosty.

  Don’t ask.

  Trina waved at me, and I waved back, but my attention quickly returned to Cole. He swung lightheartedly at the unknown girl, and she ducked before straightening and swinging at him. He ducked, too, and when she swung again, he caught her fist and jerked her against the hard line of his body, effectively disabling her.

  She grinned up at him, all cocky assurance and feminine wiles—and she stayed right where she was, clearly happy to be there. A boy with a girlfriend should have released her and stepped back. Although Cole stiffened, the gleam in his eyes turning granite-hard, he remained just as he was, returning her grin with one of his own.

  I wasn’t sure what any of that meant. I only knew I didn’t like it.

  Time for Pep Talk Ali. He’s trained other girls. He’s even smiled at other girls. This isn’t romantic. This isn’t sexual.

  Of course, Downer Ali wasn’t fully convinced (yes, there are many sides to me). He didn’t pick you up because he didn’t want to leave this girl’s side.

  I shook my head. He was mine, my toy, and I wouldn’t share.

  But what if he wanted me to share him?

  No! Stupid insecurity. Cole wasn’t like that.

  “Kitten,” Frosty called, sounding more than a little surprised. “How’d you find me?”

  Kat lifted her chin, the picture of female pique. “Don’t flatter yourself. I’m not here for you. But just so you know, I used my phenomenal detective skills, coupled with Ali’s mediocre directions. No offense,” she said to me.

  “None taken.” Mediocre was actually better than I deserved.

  “Don’t be that way, baby,” he replied, unwinding the tape from his fists. “You know I would have given you a ride on the Frosty Express. You just had to ask.”

  Bronx rolled his eyes. Several of the other guys groaned.

  Cole’s attention arrowed in my direction. Our gazes locked, and guilt filled those violet irises.

  Guilt? Why guilt? Whatever the answer, it couldn’t be good.

  I will not stomp into that ring.

  I will not pull the pair apart.

  I will not beat them both into pulp.

  He set the girl away from him. Once again I found myself waiting and hoping for a vision. I was back on my feet. Things should go back to normal. But a moment passed, then another.

  Normal remained at bay.

  A dash of dread joined a pinch of jealousy, a recipe for trouble.

  The new guy whistled under his breath, and my attention shifted to him. Our gazes collided. A second later, the world washed away, just as I’d wanted it to do with Cole—

  —we were in my bedroom, standing beside my bed. No, we were lying on my bed. I’d just pushed him down. I tilted his head with one hand and pulled at his clothes with the other. Then I licked my way down his throat. I was making strange little growling noises, as if I’d never enjoyed a taste so much and had to have more—

  “—Ali!” Cole shouted.

  I blinked, and the vision evaporated.

  Cole appeared, his features tense. “What just happened?”

  “Dude,” Frosty said to the new guy. “Your brain just checked out for a bit. I haven’t seen anything like that since Cole first met Al—and uh, yeah, never mind.”

  New Guy stared at me, looking suspicious and angry.

  I stumbled back a few steps. I couldn’t believe I’d just mind-cheated on Cole. Like, big-time.

  “Cole asked a good question,” New Guy croaked. “What just happened?”

  So he’d had the vision, too. No. No, no, no. What did that mean? That str
ong of a connection had never happened with anyone but Cole. Why here? Why now? Why this guy?

  “I have a better question,” the new girl said with a sweet Southern drawl. “Will someone please introduce me to the newcomers?”

  I had to make sure the vision never came true. It couldn’t come true. It would mean Cole and I were over. It would mean the new life I’d carved for myself had crashed and burned.

  A muscle ticked in Cole’s jaw. “Veronica, meet Ali. Ali, Veronica. She’s one of the slayers from Atlanta. Ali’s friend is Kat.”

  “My girl,” Frosty added, proudly thumping his chest.

  “In your dreams,” Kat replied.

  They launched into a heated argument.

  “Veronica is another of Cole’s exes,” Mackenzie piped up.

  Oh, good glory, no!

  “Not just any ex,” Veronica added, offering me a grin as sweet as her voice. “I’m his favorite.”

  I stiffened, waiting for Cole to say the words Actually, Ali is my favorite—and she’s not an ex. He didn’t.

  “Nice to meet you,” I whispered, fighting panic.

  Once I hadn’t thought there was a girl more beautiful than Mackenzie. Now I knew how wrong I’d been. Veronica was. By far. She had perfectly tanned skin, dark glossy hair that was iron-board straight and fell to her shoulders and light green eyes.

  Mackenzie had dark hair, though hers was curly, and dark green eyes. Put the three of us side by side, and you wouldn’t have to ask who didn’t belong. I had wavy hair so pale it could have been classified as old-granny white, and eyes so blue they bordered on freaky.

  One of Veronica’s perfect brows lifted. “So you’re the infamous Ali Bell, huh? The girl with abilities no one can explain.”

  I could see the Blood Lines we poured around our homes, a mix of chemicals the zombies couldn’t bypass. My body sometimes became a living flame, ashing every zombie I touched in seconds, while other slayers could only light their hands and needed several minutes to achieve the same results. I could sometimes see into the future.

  I wasn’t sure why I could do these things, or what made me different. My slaying genes were no more special than anyone else’s.

  “Yes,” I said. Cole wouldn’t look at me. Why wouldn’t he look at me? “That’s me.”

 

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