Through the Zombie Glass wrc-2 Page 19

  I threw the bags in the back of the car and buckled into the passenger seat. Nana claimed the driver’s seat, and a few minutes later, we were soaring down the highway.

  “Tell me what’s going on,” she said with a tremor. “Please. Lately I feel a lot like Reeve, desperate for answers but getting none. You’re gone all the time, and I’m used to that, but when you’re home, you’re moody and distant, even violent. And now the men who were supposed to help you with your cause want nothing to do with you.”

  “Nana, I’ll talk to you about this, I promise. Just not in the car.” What I had to say would upset her, more than she already was. Cars and emotional drivers were not a good combination.

  “Ali.”

  “Please.”

  “All right. But the moment we’re inside...”

  Ten minutes later, we reached the house. She parked in the driveway. It was a two-story in the shape of a C, with redbrick and white shuttered windows. A step up from Nana’s home, definitely newer, but colder—and a dump compared to Ankh’s. Keep it together.

  I carted the bags into the living room, surprised to see the place was empty, and surprised by my surprise. What? I’d expected the guy to keep us in style? The walls had been painted in bold, bright colors. Red. Blue. Green. I figured there was a Blood Line around the property, but I wouldn’t be relying on a supposition. I’d talk to Nana, then get to work.

  “Ali,” Nana said, her voice breaking at the edges.

  Calm. “I was bitten,” I explained. “I was given the antidote, and that helped, but it didn’t destroy the zombie toxin. I’m doing terrible things. Dangerous things. Becoming what I hate most. Mr. Ankh feared for Reeve. And Nana... I fear for you. I think it would be better if I—”

  “No!” she said with a violet shake of her head. She closed the distance between us and grabbed me by the forearms. “You’re not staying somewhere else, or whatever you were going to say. You’re my granddaughter and I love you. We will stay together and I will help you.”

  My chin trembled. I so did not deserve this woman.

  “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

  “At first, I wasn’t sure what was happening to me. Then...” Man, this was difficult to admit. “I was just too scared of what would happen.”

  “Oh, Ali.”

  I placed my hands over hers. “If ever I do something to frighten you, or my eyes turn red, or I stare at you too long, run. Run and don’t look back.”

  She gave me a small shake. “You’re not going to become a zombie, young lady. I won’t let you.”

  A small laugh escaped me. I wish I had her confidence.

  I leaned forward and enfolded her in a hug. “Thank you for loving me. And I really am sorry about dinner. If I’d kept our plans, last night wouldn’t have... Well, it doesn’t matter now. I’m just so, so sorry.”

  “Don’t think another thing about it, A-diddy. You have responsibilities, and I know that.”

  A-diddy? I laughed again. Nana used to love to keep up with what she considered popular slang, but she’d stopped after Pops had died. Knowing she was finally picking up the pieces of her shattered life delighted me.

  “Nana,” I said, hopping on the counter that divided living room from kitchen. “Did you know the journal you gave me is all about zombie slaying?”

  Her eyes grew wide. “No. I didn’t.”

  “Has anyone in your family ever... I don’t know, talked about invisible monsters no one else could see? Or been committed to a crazy house, maybe?”

  “Well,” she said, peering down at her loafers. “My mother was an alcoholic, and she used to babble about creatures of the night desperate to steal her soul. My dad forbade us to discuss her condition with anyone, and as embarrassed as we were, we were more than happy to agree. Of course, when I was dating Pops, he would sneak over and...well...” She cleared her throat. “Never you mind. He witnessed one of her episodes.”

  Slayers. On my mom’s side of the family. How could I not have known?

  How many other slayers came from a double lineage?

  “It’s one of the reasons Pops and I were so adamant about your mother staying away from your father, and oh, Ali, I should have known, should have realized, the two were connected. In my mind, Mother was a drunk, pure and simple. And then, of course, your dad started drinking, and, well, you know the rest.”

  I did. She and Pops had hated my father, had never welcomed him over. I’d never blamed them, though, and still didn’t. There’d been quite a few days I’d hated my father, too.

  “How did your great-grandfather die?” I asked.

  “He disappeared one day. At least, that’s the story I was told when the journal was handed down to me.”

  Huh. Disappeared. I remembered a passage from the pages of his journal.

  Some slayers have inklings of the future. Some can see the Blood Lines and recognize our sanctuaries. Some can destroy the zombies one by one, then two by two, after being bitten a single time. Something in their spirit infects the zombies and spreads from one to another like a contagious disease, with no more action on the slayer’s part. Some can do none of that. Some can do all of that. I can do all. That’s how I know about the war that’s coming. That’s how I know that not a single slayer—or civilian—will survive unless something more is done. That’s how I know what needs to be done.

  I need to die.

  Then, a few chapters later, he’d written, Are you willing to give up your own life to save others? Have you realized that dying is the only way to truly live?

  Had he given up his life to save others? Had he died to truly live?

  If so, great. Wonderful. But what did any of that mean? I hadn’t known before, and I certainly didn’t know now.

  I tweaked my newest to-do list. Pray for the best. Hope answers rain down.

  Outside, tires squealed. A door slammed.

  I frowned and stalked to the window to peer out.

  Because of the shape of the house, the driveway was hidden and I couldn’t see the car. Or, apparently, the person who’d abandoned it to stomp to our porch and pound on the door.

  “Ali,” a voice called. “I just heard.”

  My heart nearly leaped into my throat. Cole? He hadn’t cut me from his life?

  I rushed to the entrance and opened up. He burst inside, paused in front of me. He looked me over, and I did the same to him. His eyes were bloodshot—clearly, he hadn’t slept. His face was battered and bruised, his stitches stark. His clothes were wrinkled and it was obvious he’d pulled them on hastily.

  “I didn’t say a word to them,” he said.

  “I know. They had a video.”

  One of his brows rose into an arch. “So you got to see what happened?”

  I nodded, unable to hide my growing shame.

  He cupped my cheeks as if he still had every right to touch me. My chin trembled—no! no more tears—and I battled the urge to lean into him, to rest my head on his shoulder and draw from his strength. I pulled away, severing contact.

  His expression hardened.

  “All right, well.” Nana cleared her throat before gathering her purse and keys. “I’m headed to Target to pick up the things we’re going to need. You two obviously have a few issues to work out.”

  “I don’t need anything,” I assured her.

  She kissed me on the cheek, patted Cole on the arm and left us alone.

  “I’ll talk to Ankh,” Cole said, shutting and locking the door.

  “No. Don’t. I’m furious for what he’s done to Nana, but I do understand what he’s done to me. I attacked you, Cole. Like, I planned to eat the life out of your spirit.”

  “I don’t care about that.”

  “Well, I do.”

  He waved the words away. “You weren’t in your right mind.”

  “What about the other thing? I bit a freaking zombie. No telling what other damage that’s caused inside me, or just how tainted I am now. I don’t know what to do, or how to fix my
self. Not really. I mean, the journal said I needed the fire, but I tried that and nothing happened, and now my fire is red. And did you hear the part about my being tainted?”

  “Wait. You tried to fix yourself with your fire?”

  Uh-oh.

  “You actually tried to kill the zombie—you. And we were, what? Just supposed to find your ashes, never wonder what had happened and move on?”

  “You had already moved on,” I countered. “And you would have had answers.” Sort of. “I left a note.”

  His sights narrowed on me as he walked toward me. I backed up. He was so much taller than me, so much wider, he dwarfed me in every possible way. “I am so angry with you right now, I don’t even know what to say.” He picked me up by the waist, unnerving me enough to swallow my protest, and hefted me onto the counter. Then he nudged my legs apart and edged closer to me, staring into my eyes with unmatched determination.

  His heat surrounded me, irresistibly delicious. For the first time since Mr. Holland and Mr. Ankh had burst into my room, I felt warm.

  Concentrate. “I thought I was doing the right thing.”

  “You thought wrong. And you’re not tainted.”

  “I am.” I flattened my hands on his shoulders. To push him away or draw him closer, I wasn’t yet sure. I hadn’t forgotten what he’d done with Veronica, and I wasn’t sure I could ever forget. “Look. I’m trying to stay away from you. That’s what you wanted, and that’s what I’d like. You’re making it difficult.”

  Anguish filled his eyes. “I know. But I’m not leaving until I know you’re all right, and you understand you’re not tainted.”

  This. This was the boy I’d dated. Concerned. Kind. Willing to fight to stay.

  I wanted him back.

  I couldn’t have him back. Not permanently.

  “Sorry, but I don’t and won’t understand any such thing. My dad was a slayer and apparently my mom was, too, though she didn’t know it, and we’ve all heard the saying about being high and falling hard. With all my abilities...”

  “Hey, I’m right there with you. My mom was a slayer, too.”

  Astonished, I said, “Both of your parents were slayers? Wow. Okay. I wasn’t expecting that. Do you think it’s why we had the visions?”

  “Maybe. Gavin is the only other slayer I know with a double lineage. But then again, he and I never had a vision. Until you.”

  My breath caught in my throat. “You guys had a vision?”

  He nodded stiffly.

  My fingernails dug his shirt into his skin. “When? What did you see?”

  He set his hands beside my thighs, as if he couldn’t trust himself to touch me. “We saw...you. We came through a doorway, and you came running when you spotted us. You smiled and you jumped into his arms. His. Not mine. You chose him, and even kissed the hell out of him right in front of me.”

  “When did this vision happen?” I insisted.

  “The morning I ended things with you. I was so worried about you, on edge, and then he came in the room, and our eyes met, and there it was. The vision.” He pressed his forehead against my sternum. “It was terrible, Ali. I reacted the same way I would have if you’d just cheated on me. I wanted to kill Gavin, and I’m not talking figuratively. I wanted to shake you, then kiss you, then force you to make promises I was sure you couldn’t keep.”

  Emotion clogged in my throat. I could imagine the pain and betrayal he must have felt—because I would have felt them, too. “Have you guys had another vision?”

  “No.”

  I thought I’d nixed my wall theory, but...walls could have fallen amid his concern for me, and then gone back up amid his anger. If so, that would mean my walls kept falling, too. At least with Gavin. What did that mean?

  “Why didn’t you tell me this had happened?” I asked.

  “I didn’t tell you a lot of things,” he replied darkly.

  “Like?”

  “Like...” He tangled his fingers in his hair, tugged on the strands, as if to rip them free. With a bitter laugh, he said, “Why not? What I’ve done so far has only made things worse. I’m miserable. You’re miserable. Why not try a new path?”

  “Cole! Please.” My patience was already in tatters.

  He closed his eyes, said flatly, “There’s a spy among us.”

  “I know. I saw him—”

  “No. In our group.” He pinned me with a gaze that failed to hide the torment inside him. “It’s one of us. Someone we trust. I’ve known for a while.”

  “I know that much, too. So I ask again, why didn’t you tell me?”

  “Wait. How did you know?”

  “Emma.”

  “I should have guessed.” He pushed out a breath. “I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want to ruin someone’s good name before I had proof. And I didn’t want to make you suspicious of everyone and ruin your relationship with the slayers who had only just begun to accept you. And what if the spy found out you suspected something? What would happen to you then? You’d be in constant danger, someone desperate to shut you up.”

  I couldn’t argue with his logic. “Why tell me now?”

  “Now your relationship with the others is ruined anyway. Ankh and my father will show everyone the video. They’ll want the group to know why you’re to be avoided.”

  That was for the best. And yet it still hurt, knowing I would lose so many people I cared about, all in one swoop. “How do you know there’s a spy?”

  “Justin called me, told me someone was feeding information to Anima Industries. Information only a person on the inside could have. Meeting times. Injuries we’d sustained. Snippets of conversation we’d had.”

  Justin had called him. I wondered what else Puppy Dog Eyes had lied to me about. “I just... I can’t imagine any of the slayers doing it.”

  “Me, either. But someone is, and I have to find out who before this escalates and my friends get hurt.”

  “What if Justin is playing both sides? What if he told you all of this, hoping you’d take him back? He could pretend to help and secretly sabotage.”

  “How would he have already known stuff he shouldn’t before I welcomed him back?”

  “Spying from the outside before spying from within.”

  Grim, he said, “I’ve been watching him, and have even fed him false information. So far, he hasn’t taken the bait and moved on anything. And by the way, he mentioned you’d asked him if I’d talked to him and that he’d played dumb because he thought that’s what I’d prefer.”

  A smart move, whether he was the spy or not. It covered all the bases. “Is that why you got so friendly with Veronica? You were spying on her?”

  “At first, yes.”

  My eyes narrowed, even as my heart skipped a beat. “And then you began to believe you belonged with her.”

  His hands curved around my waist and held me tightly, as if he feared I would run away. “Yes.”

  Part of me did want to run. But I wouldn’t. What he’d done had cut me and left a wound, and it needed to be cauterized. “And then you...made out with her.”

  He held my gaze unflinchingly, despite the pain now gleaming in those violet depths. “Yes. But I didn’t tell you everything—”

  “And I don’t want you to,” I interjected, placing a finger over his lips. His soft, soft lips. I shivered— No! No shivering. “There’s no need. We’re not together. So what are you still doing here, Cole?”

  He pulled my finger away, held it, stared at it as if it contained the cure for all of his ills. “I don’t know.” His head dropped, as if he was ashamed, but still he held on to that finger. “I just... I can’t seem to stay away. You’re like a magnet, and I’m drawn. And what about you? You’re supposed to yell at me, scream profanities and tell me to go and never come back. Why aren’t you yelling?” he asked almost bitterly.

  Because, despite everything, I liked that he was here.

  Foolish girl.

  “You want me to yell?” I said, and drew in a deep
breath, preparing. “I will.”

  He shook his head, looked up at me through the thick shield of those dark, dark lashes. “It’s too late for that. I’m going to kiss you, Ali.”

  Kiss... Yes... No! “You made your bed.”

  “I know. But I still want you in it.”

  Just. Like. That. Every cell in my body woke up, stretching, reaching for him. Desperate for him. I had been thirsty for so long, and he was my water. Had always been my water.

  One last time, I thought. Just one more. It would be closure. The end.

  The very end.

  “It...it won’t mean anything,” I whispered.

  What are you doing?

  Common Sense Ali poked out of the mire of my thoughts.

  In that moment, I hated her. I needed this and wasn’t going to argue with her.

  “Let’s hope,” he said, the words nothing more than a low growl.

  He meshed his lips against mine, infinitely tender, going slowly, savoring every moment, as if he could draw out a response—or was willing to do anything necessary to earn one.

  That was all it took.

  The spark that had always burned between us exploded into a wild inferno. I thrust my tongue against his, and he thrust back. Neither of us was gentle. I clung to him with all of my strength, demanding more, taking more. Taking everything.

  It wasn’t enough.

  I wasn’t sure I would ever get enough.

  He moved his hands through my hair, fisting the strands at the base of my neck and forcing my head to tilt, allowing him deeper access to my mouth. In that moment, he owned me.

  The past ceased to matter. I was the girl who’d been starved, and he was more than the water. He was the honey. I devoured, unable to get enough of him.

  “You feel so good,” he rasped, “taste so good. I’ve missed you. Have to have you. Soon. Soon. Don’t send me away.”

  “Stay.” My blood fizzed with energy. I tore at his shirt, the force I used causing the fabric to rip. He stumbled backward. Separation. No. I jumped off the counter to follow after him, then pushed him to the floor and straddled his waist.

  Our tongues met with even more force. I took more and I gave more, and it was wild, untamed, but it still wasn’t enough for me. He tasted of mint and strawberries, my two favorite things—I needed more. He was firm where I was soft, and every point of contact was electric heat—I needed to be burned.