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“Glad to have you back and dominating my assignments, Ali Bell,” called Ms. Meyers as I strode from the room.
That was right. In my turmoil over Cole, I’d lost my excitement for my grade. I palmed my cell and texted Nana.
Got an A on my Creative Writing paper! I’d been working on my own at home, and it was nice to know the time and attention I’d put into everything had paid off.
A few seconds later, her reply came in. WTF an A!
I blinked, sure I was misreading. But no, the letters didn’t change.
Me: Nana, do U know what WTF means??
Her: Of course, silly. It means “well, that’s fantastic.”
I swallowed a laugh. I luv U!
Her: Love you, too! Now get back to work.
I stuffed my things in my locker and made my way to the cafeteria. Along the way I ran into Mackenzie. I was as happy to see her now as I’d been at the club but still grabbed her by the arm to stop her.
She looked at my fingers, curled her red lips in distaste and jerked away. But she didn’t walk off, as per usual, and I was grateful.
“What do you want?” she snapped.
Such a sweet, sweet girl. “Where’s Cole?”
“What am I? His keeper?”
“Just tell me where he is,” I gritted.
“He’s gone.”
“What do you mean gone?” He’d left without saying goodbye? Again?
“Is there more than one meaning for the word?”
Don’t punch her. You can’t afford a suspension. “What’s the deal with Veronica? She and Cole are on such great terms, I’m curious about how long they’ve known each other.” I should be discussing this with Cole, and only with Cole, but curiosity—and maybe a little anger—urged me onward.
“Cole dated her before me. I’ve heard rumors, but I’m not one hundred percent sure why they broke up. He never said.”
Keep it together. Something about her tone... She knew something she wasn’t telling me. “When he broke up with you, how did he do it?”
She stared at me as if I were a bug under a microscope—already dissected, ready to be sold for parts. Finally she averted her gaze, but not before I caught a glimmer of pity. “It was a few weeks after Bronx and I moved into his guesthouse, and a few months before you showed up. He got me alone, sat me down and told me we were over. I was absolutely blindsided. Even the day before, we were pretty into each other. Or so I thought.”
Blindsided.
Into each other one day, but not the next.
Keep. It. Together.
Kat sidled up beside me, saying, “There you are.”
She would help me, despite her problems.
“Well, well. Hello, Ally Kat.” Mackenzie smiled with saccharine sweetness.
The two had never been friends, and probably never would be. Mackenzie, so protective of “her” boys, had tried to ruin Kat’s relationship with Frosty a time or ten.
“Hello, Love Button,” Kat replied, using the same tenor of falseness. Then she turned to me, putting her back to Mackenzie, as if the girl were of no consequence. Her cheeks were colorless, and her lips chapped from being chewed. “I’m blowing lunch and my last few hours and taking off. I’ll pick you up for tonight’s game. And I know you want to spend a few minutes explaining why you can’t go, but I’ll save you the time since there’s no way you can win this argument. You’re going and that’s final.”
I opened my mouth, but she kissed my cheek and bounded off before I could get out a single word. “What if I have to, I don’t know, help Cole?” I called. A few slayers had to patrol the streets nearly every night, just in case.
She never turned back.
“You don’t. You haven’t been put on rotation,” Mackenzie said, and bounded off in the other direction.
Cole still hadn’t added me.
Trembling, I entered the lunchroom and headed toward the table I shared with Reeve and the slayers. Halfway there, I slammed into a brick wall. Or rather, a brick wall that went by the name of Justin Silverstone.
“Move,” I commanded.
Big brown puppy-dog eyes peered down at me, beseeching. “Why would I? I’m right where I want to be.”
“That’s odd, considering your location might just get your testicles knocked into your throat.” I wasn’t falling for his innocent act. Not again. He’d once used me for information to feed to Anima. He might even have helped them bomb my house. No telling what he’d do next.
“Give me a chance to explain my side of things, Ali. Please. I had nothing to do with—”
“Save it.” I took a step to the side, intending to brush past him, then stopped as a thought occurred to me. “First, answer a question for me. Did you talk to Cole on the phone last Saturday night?”
An emotionless mask descended—the same one Cole had been donning lately. “No. Why?”
If he was to be believed, I’d dreamed their conversation. My mind really was a mess.
“Watch me as I don’t discuss that with you.” I marched to the table and sat with more of a slam than I’d intended.
“What did Justin want?” Frosty asked, looking ready to commit murder on my behalf.
“To chat about old times.”
Bronx ran his tongue over his teeth. It was his way of telling me he would be at Frosty’s side, inflicting major damage on the boy. With his spiked hair now dyed an electric blue rather than green, and the piercings in his eyebrow and lip—and, okay, the tattoo peeking from under the collar of his shirt—he didn’t have to say anything to scare the crap out of most people.
Frosty crossed his arms over his chest. “Want me to break his face?”
“That’s sweet of you to offer,” I replied, liking that I had such fierce protectors, “but if there’s going to be any face-breaking, I’m going to be the one to do it.”
“Well, if you change your mind...”
“I’ll let you know.” I picked at the lunch I’d packed—a bagel with cream cheese—and wondered where Cole had gone, what he was doing and if this day could get any worse.
* * *
What a stupid question, I told myself later that evening. Of course the day could get worse.
By five, a cold front had swept into Birmingham, and by eight I felt like a Popsicle despite my winter wear. I huddled on the stadium bleachers between Kat and Reeve. Neither girl seemed to notice the frigid temperatures. They were too busy bouncing up and down and celebrating. The Tigers had just scored their first touchdown of the game.
As the second quarter kicked off, Kat said, “So, get this. I’m, like, way more mad at Frosty than ever before. I may not ever forgive him.”
“Why?” I asked. She was paler than she’d been at school, and despite her excitement over the game, her eyes were a little glassy. “What’d he do?”
“Last night he kissed some skank—right in my front yard.”
“Oh, Kat. I’m so sorry.”
“That snake!” Reeve exclaimed. “He deserves to die a thousand painful deaths.”
Kat nodded, saying, “And that’s not even the worst part. He put her on the back of his unicorn and rode off into the rainbow. He’s never taken me to a rainbow.”
Wait. “What are you talking about?”
“My dream last night,” she said easily, then sipped her hot chocolate.
“Your dream.” Reeve shook her head. “You’re more mad at him than ever because of a dream?”
“Hey! I always behave myself in dreams,” she said. “He should, too. And if he can’t, he needs to apologize with more than my favorite flowers.”
“He actually brought you flowers?” Stunned, I blinked at her. “For what he did in a dream?”
“Well, yeah. Wouldn’t you?”
At the moment, I couldn’t get Cole to say more than seven words to me. In real life.
Gavin suddenly plopped into the seat in front of me and though he grinned at me, he didn’t look me in the eye.
Was this a nightmare?
A pretty brunette eased beside him, and she wasn’t one of the girls from the club. She wrapped a possessive arm around his shoulders. A clear warning to me and my friends.
He had a girlfriend.
He frowned at the girl, removed her arm. O-kay. Maybe not a girlfriend.
“Ali Bell,” he said with a nod of greeting. “It’s good to see you again.”
He hadn’t shaved since the last time I’d seen him, and golden stubble now covered his jaw. Heart pounding unsteadily, I jerked my gaze to just over his shoulder, just in case he accidentally glanced up. “Uh, hi,” I replied. “What are you doing here?”
“I came to see you.”
“Hey, I remember you,” Kat interjected. “From—” she caught herself before she admitted something she shouldn’t and finished with a limp “—somewhere.”
Reeve stiffened, as if she knew Kat was hiding something.
“You should,” Gavin said. “I’m unforgettable.”
“What a strange coincidence,” Kat replied, fluffing her hair. “I am, too. So, are you a new member of the Asher High student body?”
The maybe/maybe-not-girlfriend snorted. “Does he look like he’s in high school, kid?”
Her disdain irked.
Gavin, I’d discovered, had graduated last year. He was nineteen, not that much older than me, but he looked about thirty. The finest of lines branched from his eyes—either laugh lines, scowl lines or both. With slayers, you couldn’t be sure. Most of the guys were as mean as rattlesnakes, but they were also quite warped in the humor department.
“Hillary,” Gavin admonished.
“It’s Belinda,” the girl corrected tightly.
“Whatever. I wanted one night, you wanted two. I agreed to give you the second night if you promised to behave. You’re not behaving.”
She pressed her lips together and remained silent.
Are you kidding me?
He was casually discussing sex with a woman he’d called by the wrong name. I had no words.
“Since no one is willing to make introductions,” Reeve said to break up the tenser-by-the-second silence, “I’ll do it. I’m Reeve Ankh.”
Gavin looked her over with unabashed interest. “You the one dating Bronx?”
“Not dating, no. We’re not even on friendly terms anymore.”
I caught the bitterness in her tone. She had no idea her father had threatened to pull his support from the slayers if one of the boys made a play for her. Every day Bronx had to choose between the girl he wanted and the friends he was determined to protect.
“I’m actually seeing someone else,” Reeve admitted quietly.
“What!” Kat gasped. “And you didn’t tell me? Who is it? How long has this been going on?”
“I’ll share if you will.”
Kat’s excitement deflated. “I’m not sure I know what you’re talking about.”
From the corner of my eye, I spotted Wren Kyler and Poppy Verdeck making their way toward the concession stand. They made a striking pair, the beautiful black girl and the delicate redhead. A few weeks ago, Kat, Reeve and I would have been with them.
The moment I’d started dating Cole and she’d gotten back together with Frosty, they’d dropped us. We were now considered troublemakers, a bad bet, and they’d thought their futures would be brighter without us.
They were probably right.
Justin was dating Wren, and he walked behind the pair. He looked up, his gaze landing on me as if he’d known where I was all along. Just like before, his eyes pleaded at me.
I broke the connection.
“Hey, can I talk to you?” Gavin asked me. “Alone?”
Hillary/Belinda opened her mouth to protest, quickly closed it.
My palms began to sweat. Gavin wanted to find out if we’d have another vision, didn’t he?
I nodded, trying to sound normal as I said, “Sure. Why not?”
We stood in unison. He led me up the bleachers, his hand on my lower back, making me uncomfortable.
“Here’s good.” He stopped at a secluded spot overlooking the parking lot, then motioned to the section we’d just abandoned. “I need to be able to see the girls.”
Agreed. Emma hadn’t formed a rabbit cloud, so I wasn’t worried about an attack, but I’d learned to err on the side of caution.
“Before you ask,” I said, still not meeting his gaze. “I don’t know what causes the visions—or, apparently, what stops them. I thought building emotional walls was the key, but I’d built what I considered an impenetrable fortress against you before Hearts and yet we had another one.”
He pushed out a heavy breath. “Note to self. Take Prozac before talking to Ali.”
That probably wasn’t a bad idea. “I don’t think we should look at each other. Not here. Just in case.”
“All right. Where? When?”
How about...never? I ignored the questions, saying, “Have you experienced a vision with anyone else?”
“No. But you have.”
“Yes.” And I was clearly the only unchanging variable. Somehow, this was all my fault. “What did you see in the barn?” Maybe he’d seen something different. Maybe—
“I saw you tasting my neck.”
I gulped. No maybe. We’d seen the same thing. “That’s never going to happen.”
“That’s not what Cole said.”
Fury rose inside me, even though I’d already suspected Gavin had spilled the worst of the details. “You told him?”
“Of course. I had to. He’s my friend. You’re his girl.”
Was I? I licked my lips. “When did you do it? What’d he say?”
“The day after the incident at the club. And nothing. He stormed off.”
Why hadn’t he called me?
I had to talk to him. I had to explain...what? What could I say to make this better?
“I feel the need to reiterate—I’m never going to lick you or throw you on my bed,” I said.
Gavin fingered a lock of my hair. “Honey, I have to agree with you on that one. You’re not even close to being my type.”
“What type is that? Easy?”
“Among other things,” he said unabashedly.
I stepped away from him and gripped the railing in front of me. In the parking lot, darkness was chased away by the occasional streetlamp, revealing car after car.
“I just want to figure out what’s going on,” he said.
“Me, too. And by the way, you’re not my type, either.”
“You don’t like sexy?”
I rolled my eyes. “I just like Cole.”
“So you like moody and broody.”
I kind of wanted to smile at that. “I—” The scent of rot hit me, and I wrinkled my nose. Stiffening, I searched for any other sign of the zombies. They couldn’t be here. They—
Were here.
Red eyes cut through the night, and my heart skittered into a wild beat. Anyone who wandered through the parking lot would be unable to see the evil lurking nearby, and the odds were good they’d become dinner.
“They’re here,” I said, trying not to panic. “The zombies are here.”
Chapter 4
Blood and Tears
I beat feet to my friends. “Stay here. No matter what you see or hear, don’t leave the bleachers until I come back to get you, okay?” The zombies might have braved the parking lot, but their sensitive flesh would sizzle up here in the lights.
Kat paled—she knew what was happening. “Okay.”
“What’s going on?” Reeve demanded. “I’ve seen Bronx, Frosty and Cole act this way. Heard them say these things.”
Unfazed, Gavin pointed a finger in her face. “Do as you’ve been told or I’ll make sure you regret it.” He switched his attention to his two-night stand. “You, too.”
We didn’t say anything else to the girls. There just wasn’t time. Together, we pounded down the rest of the bleacher steps.
“You up for this, cupcake?” Gavin asked.
“Always. Jack-hole.”
He laughed.
As I ran, I withdrew my phone and dialed Frosty. There was no reason to try to reach Cole right now. He’d just send me to voice mail. But Frosty failed to answer, as well. I left a message. “We’re at the game. The enemy has entered the parking lot. Send backup ASAP.”
Justin appeared at my side, keeping pace as we closed in on the darkness. “How many?” he demanded.
“Go home,” I snapped. “We don’t need your kind of help. You’ll feed us to the Hazmats the moment we’re distracted.” He had before.
“I won’t. Trust me.”
Trust him, when I was struggling to trust Cole?
“He works with the Hazmats?” Gavin slowed down, moving behind us. Without any more warning than that, he punched Justin in the back of the head, knocking the boy forward. “Then he doesn’t work with us.”
Justin tripped over his own feet and went down, his hands and knees absorbing most of the impact. He could have recovered, but Gavin kicked him in the center of his back, sending him flying onto his stomach. Then Gavin stomped over his body and continued onward.
Part of me wanted to protest his methods. I wasn’t Justin’s friend, but wow. The other part of me was kind of impressed. He-slut had skills.
The moment we hit the parking lot, I withdrew my favorite daggers from the purse hanging at my side, then dropped the purse on the ground, not wanting to give the zombies anything extra to grab onto. There were streetlamps to my far left and right, illuminating sections of the lot. Four kids I recognized from school were climbing into a red truck. Another two were standing in front of a sedan, a girl leaning against the hood, a boy leaning against her.
“Get out of here,” I shouted, cruel to be kind. Contrary to popular opinion, stupidity did not make a less-than-delicious brain.
A strip of darkness consumed the center, and that was where we headed. I looked for the glow of the Blood Lines, but...found none. Very well. None of the cars would be solid to us when we entered the spirit realm. We could ghost through—and so could the zombies.
The closer we drew, the stronger the scent of rot became, and I gagged.
“Let’s do this,” Gavin said, and stepped out of his body as if it were a suit of armor he’d gotten tired of wearing.
As Cole had once told me, people were spirits. We had a soul, and we lived in a body. The spirit was the power source. The soul was the mind, will and emotions, and linked to the power. The body was the house.
I, too, forced my spirit and soul to split from my body, and my body froze in place, unable to move until I reentered it. If anyone stumbled upon the motionless shell, well, they’d get no response and I was sure there would be trouble. Can’t be helped.
Instantly the air became colder, and the light I’d admired only a few seconds ago was too bright, making my eyes water. A typical reaction to leaving the natural realm and entering the spiritual.
“Shout if you get into trouble,” Gavin called.
I didn’t reply. Sometimes it was just better to remain silent.
Whatever a slayer said while in spirit form came true. Well, mostly. There were two caveats. We had to believe it, and we couldn’t violate someone else’s free will.
Some things happened instantly. Some took a while. As long as the words met the requirements, they happened. No exceptions.
Gavin picked up speed and moved in front of me. He extended both his arms, fired two SIG Sauers—and bonus points to me for knowing the type...or brand...whatever! Sparks exploded from the barrels, and the ensuing boom, boom made me cringe. Not that anyone around us would hear it.
The fight was on.
The two zombies closest to us went down. But a heartbeat later, they were climbing back to their feet, ready for more. I frowned. The bullets should have slowed them, at least a little. Zombies felt no pain, but their spiritual bodies were subject to injury, just like ours.
“I didn’t miss,” Gavin gritted. He fired the guns until they ran out of bullets.
He reached the creatures first, using the two he’d decorated with holes as punching bags.
I reached my own target and gave a wide slash of my dagger, clipping his spine, nearly removing his head. An action that would merely disable. There was only one thing that could forever end these creatures, and it was the fire from a slayer’s hands. But I could have a lot of fun beforehand.
I kicked the next one in the stomach, knocking him backward and revealing the zombie coming in behind him. Too late. He moved too quickly. The new addition pushed me, and I pinwheeled over a body, landing with a hard thud, my side throbbing. I was jumped and pinned a second later, teeth going for my neck. I broke his nose and his jaw and wiggled out from under him; he ended up gnawing on pavement.
As I stood, I swiped out my blades, the tips slashing into his neck once, twice, going deeper and deeper, into spinal cord, buying me a temporary reprieve. From him, at least.
I tried to summon my fire the same way I’d left my body, believing I could and thereby gaining the inner strength to actually do it, but I was so new to this, didn’t have as much faith as the others and could only stretch myself so far. And multitask? Forget about it.
As expected, no flames.
Another zombie lunged at me, black-stained teeth bared. I spun and kicked, my booted heel slamming into his side. He stumbled away from me as yet another zombie lunged at me. I popped her in the nose and spun again, elbowing her in the temple when I lined up to her left. She went down, but quickly twisted and reached for my ankle.
I don’t think so. I hopped up and stomped on her hand. Saw two more coming at me from the right. With a twirl of my dagger, I pressed the blade against my wrist, then punched one creature and kicked the other. At my side, a gnarled arm stretched out. I grabbed and bent it, forcing the zombie to hunch over as I jerked up my knee, barreling into his face. When I released him, he fell to the ground.
But like his brethren, he recovered in a rush. I performed another spin—am getting so good at those!—whipping out my leg to shove him back several feet. Before he could rise a second time, I swung my arm around and launched one of the daggers. The tip soared past his open mouth and embedded in the back of his throat.
Bull’s-eye.
On instinct, I turned, realized a pack of zombies had launched a sneak attack. I arched left, right, narrowly avoiding nails and teeth, my blade constantly swinging, slicing through rotting flesh. Cold black goo dripped down my hands.
I grinned. Some people got off on drugs. I got off on this.
Something solid pressed against my back, and I threw an elbow, raised the blade. As I sliced in a downward arc, Justin ducked, barely avoiding impact.
“Idiot,” I screamed. He knew better than to creep up on a slayer.
“Incoming.” He motioned to just over my shoulder.
I drank in the scene as quickly as possible and decided what to do. A zombie had used my distraction to his advantage, stealing in close and preparing to sink his teeth in my upper arm. I could dive away, but Justin’s nearness would put him in striking range. I could arch, but the creature’s momentum would draw him back with me. We’d fall. His weight would cage me. I’d be more of a target, and he could go for my neck.
I had to take the bite in my arm and pray Justin or Gavin injected me with antidote right away, so I could jump back into battle.
Gonna sting.
“No!” Justin reached out, flames springing from the pores in his hand, the light shining as brightly as the streetlamps. The zombie bit into that light, and both Justin and the creature dropped.
The zombie frantically patted at his mouth, his throat, his stomach, as if experiencing pain for the first time. But that wasn’t possible. Was it? Even still, he hadn’t been exposed to Justin’s fire long enough to die.
On the opposite end of the spectrum, Justin had been exposed to enough toxin to die. A single drop was all it took. He writhed, the poison already pouring through him, a river, pulling him down, down, down, washing over him, drowning him.
I wanted to help him, meant to inject him, but there just wasn’t time or opportunity. All I could do was stand over him and fight, protecting him from further harm, reeling that the boy I knew as a traitor had taken a blow meant for me. Maybe I should have been nicer to him.
Zombies, zombies, zombies, everywhere I looked; so many grotesque bodies I lost count. They were like a swarm of flies, moaning instead of buzzing. I hobbled one, and two more replaced him—and then the one I’d hobbled rejoined the party.