Through the Zombie Glass - Showalter Gena - Страница 38

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“Were you spying on me?”

He... Oh... I gasped and sputtered. “I was not. I was spying on a spy. Was that you I saw skulking after Trina and Lucas?”

A moment passed, the silence laced with incredulity. Cursing, he settled back on his haunches. “Someone was tailing them?”

“I think so, yes.”

“What did he look like?”

“Like you, only not quite as tall. Strong. Wearing a bandanna.” Cole wasn’t wearing one. “His shoes left little golden smears behind.”

Hope filled his eyes, softened his features. “Show me.” He stood and helped me do the same.

Having his fingers intertwined with mine...the warmth, the comfort...I liked it, wanted more and hated myself far more than I hated him. The moment I was upright, I released him. My mouth dried as I backtracked, looking for that last smear I’d seen.

“There,” I said, pointing. “Do you see it?”

“No.”

No matter. He’d never been able to see the Blood Lines, either.

He examined the area. “Is there another one nearby?”

I searched and found another and another, but after a while the smears vanished. Either the guy had left the area or he’d overheard us and had known to take off his shoes.

“Okay. All right,” Cole said. He pinched the bridge of his nose. “The spy has been verified, at least. And now I know he’s male. That cuts my suspect list down.”

“You suspected there was a spy.” A statement, not a question. That was why he’d been spying.

He leaped into action, closing the distance between us. When he reached me, he grabbed me by the shoulders. “You will not tell a soul, Ali. Promise me.”

Had I been a suspect, as well?

Anger returned, white-hot. “Why did you let Justin back in? I know he helped us before, but how do you know beyond any doubt he’s not double-crossing you?”

He shook his head. “I’m not talking about this.”

“Not with me, you mean. Have you discussed it with Veronica?” Stop. Just stop.

His nostrils flared. With anger? With relief? “Do you want to hear what happened with her?” he asked tightly.

Yes! “No.” I don’t know.

“I’ll tell you. I think I actually want to tell you. Then you’ll stay away from me, even when I’m stupid enough to come sniffing around. I’ll finally stop wanting what I know I can’t have.”

I glared at him, saying, “You don’t have to say another word for that to happen.”

“I was at home,” he began. “She came over.”

I shook my head. “Shut up.”

It was an order, but it wasn’t his will. He continued. “I had been drinking. I never drink, but I was trying to forget about you.”

“Shut up!”

“I had been drinking a lot. I kissed her. I thought about never being with you again, and I was angry with you, thinking about you with Gavin, and I kissed her with everything I had. I took off her shirt. I touched her.”

“Shut up!” He was throwing the details at me as if they were weapons.

They were.

“She unbuckled my pants. I—”

“Shut up, shut up, shut up!” I was standing in front of him before I realized I’d moved. Both of my arms heated to a nearly unbearable degree, as if I was about to ash a zombie. But when I raised my hand and swiped at Cole’s cheek, the flames crackling from my skin weren’t white—they were red.

Cole tumbled to the ground as if he’d been hit by a Mack truck. He quickly jumped to his feet, now watching me warily. His cheek was split, but because he was in spirit form, the wound wasn’t bleeding. His body would be, though. Back at the barn, I bet crimson streaked his face.

“What’s going on with you?” he demanded.

Feed from him.

The words whispered through my mind, and I didn’t care who had spoken them. Hunger gnawed at me, relentless. Yes, I would feed from him, would feast on his spirit. Scowling, I stalked forward. The red flames moved to my shoulders. I swung out my arm, but Cole ducked. He could have launched a counterattack, could have kicked my feet out from under me. Instead, he straightened, his hands fisting.

“Don’t do this,” he said.

Not my will. Do it, I would. I circled him, our gazes locked together.

FEED!

“Go ahead, finish your story,” I commanded, doing what he hadn’t done and kicking out my leg. His ankles knocked together, and he tumbled to the ground a second time. The bottom of his pants burned away, revealing another gash in his skin. A gash I had caused. My feet were also covered in red flames. “Help me be sure I hate you.”

“Is that what it will take?” He stood, saying, “She went down on me. And you know what? I liked it.”

With a screech, I lashed out at him.

He dodged.

I would have done it again, but my gaze caught on the fireworks exploding in the sky. One after the other, the other slayers were shooting off their flares. Everyone, it seemed, had spotted a zombie.

Don’t care.

A twig snapped.

My gaze whizzed to the left, and I saw red eyes peeking from the brittle wall of foliage.

Still don’t care.

Cole moved closer to me, perhaps to protect me from the coming battle. When I scented him, my hunger spun out of control. I growled at him.

He looked at me.

I stepped forward... When I’m done, there’ll be nothing left of him... The world around me began to darken, until a black sheet enveloped me.

“No,” I shouted.

Oh, yes.

I think...Z.A. was trying to take over.

I—she—continued forward in spite of the blindness, tripped.

“Ali,” Cole said, concerned.

Time seemed to slow down as I fell, landed. Sound faded from my ears. Except for one.

Tick. Tock.

Chapter 14

The Slaughter of the White Queen

I blinked open my eyes and realized I couldn’t catch my breath. Why couldn’t I catch my breath?

I took stock. I was standing. My clothes were torn, and I was splattered in black goo from the top of my head to the soles of my feet. I had cuts on my arms and stomach. My entire body was shaking, as if I’d run the treadmill for hours, all uphill.

The forest around me had been torched. The trees were now naked, their leaves burned away, their branches covered with ash. Zombie ash? Or...slayer? The ground was just as bad, black and charred, no grass remaining.

Cole was on the ground, alive. Thank God! There were patches of black all over his skin. He’d been bitten multiple times, and his features were contorted with pain.

“Ali-gator,” he gasped out.

I rushed to his side, and he flinched, as if he thought I meant to hurt him.

I frowned. I remembered...throwing a punch at him. Yes, I’d thrown a punch, and he’d ducked. He’d told me about kissing Veronica, about the other stuff they’d done—even now I choked on a well of pain. A need to feed from him had consumed me, and I’d attacked him in earnest. Then...nothing.

“I’m so, so sorry,” I said, sliding my hands under the hem of his pant leg. The antidote was strapped to his ankle. I freed the syringe, and though I was trembling uncontrollably, managed to shove the needle into his neck.

He’d done this to me countless times, but I’d never had to do it to him. I remained by his side, watching, waiting. At last, the black began to fade from his skin, and he sagged into the decimated ground.

All of the cuts and gashes remained. At the barn, his body had to be covered in blood.

“What happened?” I asked.

“Do you not remember?”

I chewed on my bottom lip, shook my head. Z.A. had spoken to me—yes, that was right. Oh, good glory. She’d taken over.

Wincing, he sat up. He didn’t meet my gaze as he said, “Your eyes went red, Ali, just like the zombies. The creatures arrived and ignored you, treating you as if you were one of their own. You burned the trees and—”

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