The White Rabbit Chronicles Page 37

  “What are you going to do now, Miss Bell?”

  Stay just like this and enjoy? I could smell the pine and soap of his scent. Could hear the rasp of our breath intermingling. Could feel the heat and hardness of his body pressing against me.

  “What would you like me to do?” I met his gaze, and the air around us thickened, charged with electricity.

  Would he touch me?

  I wanted him to touch me.

  “You’re not ready for what I’d like you to do.” He searched my face as he reached between us, his actions belying his words...please, please...until he slowly pushed the hem of my tee over my navel, revealing every inch of damaged flesh.

  He looked me over, and my stomach quivered. Heck, all of me quivered. He crawled down, down, and kissed one edge of the wound, then the other, and a moan left me.

  Please. More.

  But a moment passed, then another, and he merely returned to his former position, driving me crazy with his nearness but never doing anything to relieve the tension spiraling inside me.

  “One more week of rest,” he said, his jaw clenched as if he’d had to force the words to leave his mouth. “Doctor’s orders.”

  I shook my head. “I’ll ask Bronx and Frosty to train me.”

  His eyes narrowed to tiny slits. “They’ll say no. I’ll make sure of it.”

  “At first, maybe.” Definitely. Everyone always followed Cole’s rules. Even other alpha males recognized a bigger, badder predator. “However, I have a secret weapon.”

  He arched a brow. “And what’s that?”

  “Sure you want to know?” I asked, rubbing my knees along his hips.

  “Yes. Tell me.” His tone had gone low, gruff.

  My knees slid higher, higher still, and he went utterly motionless, waiting to see what I would do next. I had two options. Try to seduce him into making out with me—the way he’s looking at me...I might actually succeed this time—or prove I wasn’t out for the count.

  Sometimes I hated my priorities.

  I planted my feet against his shoulders and pushed with all my might. He propelled backward, catching himself on his knees.

  “With you? Distraction,” I purred.

  Laughing, he stayed where he was and lifted my leg to place a soft kiss on my ankle. “I must be seriously disturbed, because I like when you rough me up.”

  Heat spilled into my cheeks. “You make me sound like some kind of he-woman.”

  He laughed again, and oh, it was a beautiful sound. Lately, he’d been so somber. “I also like when you blush.”

  “Yes, well, I’ll bug Frosty and Bronx until they say yes.” Apparently my inquisitive personality was not charming to everyone. Go figure. “They’ll be so irritated by their lack of fortitude, they’ll throw me around like I’m a meat bag.”

  “So? You’ll get a boo-boo I’ll have to kiss and make better. Problem, meet solution.”

  I swallowed a laugh of my own and had to concentrate to adopt a stern expression. “I’ll let you kiss me better—if the boo-boo is on my butt.”

  “Hmm. Kinky. This is a plan I can get behind... It’s a very nice behind.”

  Tease! “Cole,” I said with a pout. “You can’t flirt with me like this and then do nothing about it.”

  “Oh, I’ll do something about it.” The gruff, wanting tone was back. His gaze locked on my mouth, heating with awareness. “Once you’ve been cleared.”

  So, seven more days of Cole’s china-doll treatment? Don’t whimper. “Mr. Ankh would have cleared me already if not for you and your protests.” I sat up and shifted my fingers through the silk of his hair. “I’m better now. I swear!”

  “No, you’re finally on the road to better. But if you start training, that could slow your progress. Besides, you’re mine, Ali-gator, and you’re precious to me. I want you better. I need you better. And okay, yeah, I don’t like the thought of my friends putting their hands on you.”

  Ali-gator? Really? I think I would have preferred something like, I don’t know, cuddlecakes. Anything was better than a comparison to an overgrown lizard, right?

  And had he just called me his?

  See? Melting...

  “Bronx is secretly into Reeve and Frosty is bat-crap crazy for Kat. They wouldn’t try anything.” And really, before Cole, no boy had ever tried anything with me. I had no idea what made me so irresistible to him.

  “Don’t care,” he said, leaning forward to nuzzle my neck. “I will put my boys in the hospital if they come near you. I don’t share my toys.”

  I had to swallow a snort. “If anyone else called me their toy, internal organs would spill.”

  “Agreed. Like I said, you’re mine. And, Ali, I’d love to be called your anything, especially your toy. I reeeally want you to play with me.”

  Okay, I did snort. Hello, mixed signals. “I’d really like you to prove that, Cole Holland.”

  His response? A groan.

  I sighed. There was nothing mixed about that, was there? “Back to the pimp hand you’re planning to throw around.” I had no doubt he could put people in the hospital—he had before—but his friends? Never. I opened my mouth to tell him so, only to gasp. He’d just bitten the cord of my shoulder, and the most delicious lance of pleasure had shot through me. “Cole.”

  “Sorry. Couldn’t help myself. Had to do a little proving.”

  “Don’t stop,” I breathed. “Not this time.”

  “Ali,” he said with another groan. “You’re killing me.” He stood with me in his arms and gently laid me on the bed. He stretched out next to me but didn’t pull me into his side.

  I swallowed a shriek of frustration. I wasn’t sure if he was punishing himself for what he’d done to me or if he really was afraid he would break me. All I knew was that I missed the feel and taste of him.

  I rolled toward him and rested my head on his shoulder. His skin was warm and surprisingly soft as I traced a circle around the piercing in his nipple. Bad Ali.

  Smart Ali. His heart kicked into a faster rhythm, delighting me.

  Disappointed Ali. He remained just as he was, here but set apart from me.

  “When you’re better,” he finally said.

  His ability to resist me was so not flattering.

  “I wouldn’t be able to forgive myself if I caused you any more harm,” he added, and I lost my ire.

  His concern for me was beyond flattering.

  “Look, I have to help you guys in some way, King Cole.” The moment the nickname left my lips, I knew I’d made a mistake. He’d embrace that one a little too tightly. “Doing nothing is destroying me.”

  He pushed out a heavy breath. “All right. Okay. You can come to the gym tomorrow morning. We’ll see how you handle things.”

  I kissed his jaw, the shadow-beard he sported tickling my lips. “I think it’s cute that you thought I was asking for permission.”

  “Thank you, Cole,” he grumbled. He cupped the back of my neck, tilting my head. My gaze met his. “I just want to take care of you.”

  “You will...just as long as you keep your swords to yourself.”

  His eyes darkened. “That’s not funny.”

  “What? Too soon? My near-death experience and your part in it aren’t something we can joke about yet?”

  “Probably not ever.”

  I nipped playfully at his chin. “Okay.” Taking mercy on him, I changed the subject. “Will you finally tell me what’s been going on these past few weeks?” Boss’s orders. Business wasn’t to be discussed. “As you can see, if it’s bad news, I can take it.”

  “Yeah. All right,” he replied, his relief obvious. “To start, Kat and Frosty broke up again.”

  I made a mental note to contact her first thing in the morning.

  “Also, Justin’s sister is missing.”

  Justin Silverstone used to be a slayer. Then his twin sister, Jaclyn, had convinced him to switch sides and join Anima Industries; the Hazmats, we called them. They wanted to preserve the zom
bies for testing and studying and planned to one day use them as weapons, uncaring about the innocent lives that were lost along the way.

  “She probably ran off, afraid we’d come after her,” I said. She and her crew had helped bomb my grandparents’ home. I owed her.

  Cole nodded. “Then there’s my search. We need more slayers. I know there are kids out there as confused as you used to be, unsure why they see monsters no one else can see, and they have no idea what to do about it.”

  “Any possibles?”

  “Not yet. But two slayers from Georgia came to help us out until we’ve rebuilt our team.”

  For a while, I’d thought the zombie problem existed only in my home state of Alabama. I’d since learned differently. There were zombies all over the world. Slayers, too.

  “You should have shared this info long before now. You are such a pain, Coleslaw,” I said. Better, but that nickname wasn’t the winner, either.

  “I know, but I’m your pain.”

  And just like that, my irritation drained away. How did he do it?

  “Does Mr. Ankh know you’re here?” Since my grandfather had died and my grandparents’ house had been torched, Nana and I had moved in with Mr. Ankh and his daughter, Reeve.

  Mr. Ankh—Dr. Ankh to everyone outside his circle of trust—knew about the zombies and did all the medical work on the slayers. Reeve had no idea what was going on, and we were supposed to keep her in the dark. Or else. Her father wanted her to have as normal a life as possible.

  What was normal, exactly?

  “I gave Ankh’s security the finger,” Cole said with a twinge of pride. “He would feel the need to tell your grandmother, and I don’t want to be kicked out and have to sneak back in. I just want to be with you.”

  “So you’re planning to stay here all night and hold me, Coley Guacamole?” Ugh. I shouldn’t have gone there. That one reeked.

  He barked out a laugh. “I liked King Cole better.”

  “That’s not actually a surprise.”

  “It just fits me so well.”

  “I’m sure you think so.” I gave a gentle tug on his nipple ring.

  “I doubt I’m the only one. And yes, I’m staying.” He curled his fingers over mine, pried my grip loose and brought my knuckles to his mouth for a kiss. A second later, there was a flash of panic in his eyes. One I didn’t understand and must have misread. Because he said, “Just so you know, you can call me anything you want—just as long as you always call me.”

  Chapter 2

  On Your Mark...Get Set...STOP!

  I woke up alone, drenched in sweat and gasping for breath, another dream of the accident hovering at the back of my mind. I’d seen my mother reaching for me. Felt the unusual heat of her touch. Heard her yell at me. Then I’d watched as the zombies finished eating my dad, glided to our car and jerked her out, ready for dessert.

  She’d fought against their hold, her expression panicked. She’d called my name again. “Alice! Alice!”

  I’d struggled to reach her, begging the creatures not to hurt her.

  Then nothing.

  Now I wanted to cry.

  Why was I seeing this? It hadn’t happened. Not really.

  Had it?

  Had I woken up in the car and just didn’t remember? Could this be my mind’s way of reminding me?

  Mom had ended up outside, next to my dad, even though she’d been in the car when I’d lost consciousness.

  “Cole,” I said, patting the space next to me. I needed his arms around me, strong and sure. He would comfort me, whatever the answers.

  The mattress was disappointingly cold. He was gone.

  I thought...yeah, I remembered hearing him speak to me before he’d taken off.

  “I’m supposed to believe you? Just like that,” he’d said, his tone angry.

  No, he hadn’t been speaking to me. There’d been a tense pause before he’d snapped, “Stop calling me, Justin. I told you a long time ago I’m done with you. There’s nothing you can do or say to change that.” Another crackling pause. “No, I don’t want to hear the info you’ve got.”

  I knew of only one Justin. Either Cole had been on the phone with a boy he’d sworn never to speak with again, or my mind had played tricks on me. Right now I wasn’t exactly in a mind-trusting mood.

  Gingerly I sat up to gaze around the room. Bright sunlight slanted through the window. The ice-blue comforter draping the four-poster bed was wrinkled, and one of the pillows was stained with flecks of black from Cole’s face paint. Oops. I’d have to clean that off before I left.

  His weapons were no longer piled on the floor, and neither were his clothes. In fact, the only other sign that he’d been here was the note on my nightstand.

  I’m at the gym. Call me and I’ll come for you. X C

  Humming with sudden happiness, I brushed my teeth, showered and dressed in my winter workout clothes. I dialed his cell, and...went straight to voice mail.

  “I’m awake and ready,” I said. “You can come get me anytime.” I didn’t have a car. Or a license. Only a permit. If I didn’t hear from him soon, I’d walk. The gym was at a barn a few miles away. “I hope you’re prepared to have your butt handed to you.”

  When I hung up, I noticed there were eleven texts waiting for me. All from my best friend, Kat. I grinned as I read.

  One: Frosty SUCKS!

  Two: Have I mentioned Frosty sucks it raw??

  Three: How do U feel about murder? 4 or against?? Before U answer, know that I have good reason!

  Four: If 4, do U know good place 2 hide body??

  The rest described the many ways she’d like to kill him. My favorite involved a bag of Skittles and a silk scarf.

  Mmm. Skittles.

  My stomach rumbled, and I set my phone on the nightstand. I’d call Kat after breakfast, when she was more likely to be awake and I was more likely to be lucid, and find out what happened. There was a good chance Frosty had simply failed to call her after the fight last night, and she’d worried. I wasn’t sure how to comfort her about that. She’d made it clear the zombies weren’t a topic of conversation she welcomed.

  First, though, I cleaned every inch of my room. I refused to let Mr. Ankh’s housekeeper do it for me. I wasn’t a sponge and wasn’t going to take anything for granted. I was determined to give back, somehow. Thankfully, water and hand soap removed the paint from the pillow.

  “Alice.”

  Emma’s voice.

  I turned, and oh, glory, there she was. My eight-year-old sister. Her spirit anyway. What she’d taught me: death is never the end. “You’re here,” I said, my heart soaring. She’d visited me before, but every time felt like the first time—shocking and unreal.

  She smiled at me, and I wanted so badly to hug her close and never let go. “I only have a moment.”

  She wore the clothes she’d died in: a pink leotard and tutu. The dark hair she’d inherited from our mother was pulled into two pigtails, swinging over her delicate shoulders. Golden eyes that had always watched me with adoration were bright.

  She’d once told me she wasn’t a ghost, but a witness. Ghosts—not that they existed—were spirits of the dead that retained their memories and haunted. A myth probably born from zombie sightings. Witnesses were spirits that aided.

  “I wanted to warn you that you’ll be seeing less of me,” she said, the smile slipping. “Visiting you is becoming more difficult. But. If you call for me, I will find a way to reach you.”

  “More difficult how?” I asked, concerned for her.

  “My tie to this world is fading.”

  Oh.

  I knew what that meant. One day I was going to lose her for good.

  “Don’t be sad,” she said. “I hate when you’re sad.”

  I forced my features to brighten. “No matter what, I’ll know you’re out there, watching over me. There’s no reason to be sad.”

  “Exactly.” Beaming, she blew me a kiss. “I love you. And seriously, don’t forget
to call for me if you need me.” Then she was gone.

  My features fell and, I was sure, dimmed. I could have curled into a ball and cried, but I refused to let myself worry about any tomorrows without her. I’d deal with her loss when it came.

  Pulling my hair into a ponytail, I headed to the kitchen. I expected to find the housekeeper. Instead I found Reeve, Nana and Kat seated at the table, sipping from steaming mugs of coffee.

  “—something’s going on,” Reeve was saying, twining a lock of dark hair around her finger. “Dad put more security cameras in both the front and backyard—and we already had a thousand to begin with! Worse, he’s put up so many lamps, my blackout curtains are no longer able to do their job.”

  Nana and Kat shifted uncomfortably.

  “Has he said anything to either of you?”

  “Well...” Nana hedged. She moved her gaze through the room, as if hoping a distraction would present itself.

  One did.

  “Ali! You’re out of bed a week early.” Her chair skidded behind her as she stood. She closed the distance between us and drew me in for a hug. “I’m not sure I approve.”

  Kat buffed her nails and smiled, not looking at all like a girl on the verge of committing a violent crime. She did look tired, though. There were dark circles under her eyes, and her cheeks were hollowed, as if she hadn’t eaten in days. “I would have been up two weeks early, but we can’t all have my amazing bounce-back, can we?”

  I kissed Nana’s cheek and returned Kat’s smile. The girl had a healthy (and justifiable) ego and wasn’t afraid to show it. Me? I’d always been the girl with her head ducked as she questioned her worth.

  I’d faced death and won, I reminded myself—I should probably get over that.

  But...just then, I kind of thought Kat was using her ego as a shield to hide her physical weakness. She suffered from degenerative kidney disease.

  “What are you doing here?” I asked her. “Not that I’m not thrilled to see you. I so am.” More than thrilled, actually. From the very beginning, she’d never cared what I looked like or how socially awkward I could be. She’d just accepted me and rolled. “I thought you preferred to sleep till two on weekends.”

  “I came to see you, naughty girl that you are. You never answer your phone or respond to my mind-blowing texts anymore. My plan was to lecture you until you promised to have your phone surgically attached to your hand, but I decided to have some coffee first.”