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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 strong 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.”
Veronica’s head tilted to the side as she scrutinized me more intently. “Did you use one of those abilities on my friend?”
I stuttered for a response, but came up empty.
“So what if she did?” Kat called, always my backup. “She’s got the boss man wrapped around her little finger. She can do what she wants, to whomever she wants.”
How much did I love that girl?
Venom leaked into Veronica’s sweetness. “No one wraps Cole Holland around their finger.”
Cole left both comments alone as he hopped out of the ring. “Later, Ronny. Practice without me.”
Ronny? He had an affectionate nickname for Mackenzie, too. Kenze, he sometimes called her. I hated both.
He stalked to an open treadmill, motioned me over and pushed a few buttons. “Before you hit the ring, you need to build your stamina back up. Do not—I repeat—do not overwork yourself.”
I closed the distance between us. “You’re right about the stamina, and I can tell you I have no plans to overwork myself, but first we need to talk.”
Still he refused to look at me. “Clearly, you had a vision with Gavin.”
Gavin. The name of the boy I’d just mind-molested. “Y-yes. But that’s not what I want to talk about. This Veronica girl—”
“What did you see?” he said.
“I, well, uh...” I couldn’t tell him, and I wouldn’t lie. So, where did that leave me? “Does it really matter? It won’t come true.” I wouldn’t let it.
“It matters. It will come true. And we both know it.” Cole walked away without another word—without ever looking back at me.
I watched him until he disappeared inside the locker room, my heart creating a staccato beat in my chest. Veronica—Ronny—followed him. She paused at the door, and she did look back at me.
To smirk.
Chapter 3
Can’t Go Back to Yesterday
While Kat and I had run the treadmills side by side, and I’d tried not to worry about the vision with Gavin and Cole’s behavior before and after, Nana had been out buying me a big, puffy blue gown. Not from the thrift store. The shiny monstrosity had a lacy corset top, stripes on the skirt and a black hat to top things off.
I wasn’t sure what I was supposed to be—other than a Southern belle magician on crack.
Normally, I wouldn’t leave the house at night wearing anything with colors. And never anything this fantastical. I liked to blend with the shadows. Needed to. Tonight, however, I was making an exception.
I wanted Cole to see me in something other than the tee and shorts I’d sported the past few weeks, and the workout clothes from this morning. I wanted his eyes to light up, and for him to spend the night complimenting me, unable to keep his hands off me. We’d dance. We’d laugh. He’d kiss me. I’d kick myself for worrying about him and Veronica-slash-Ronny.
We weren’t allowed to fight tonight, but I wrapped a utility belt around my thigh anyway, my daggers hanging from the attached sheaths. I never left home without them.
I wondered what costume Cole would be wearing. He hadn’t said. Well, other than the naughty nurse, but I knew that had been a joke.
I stepped into the dress, hooked everything together and studied myself in the mirror. Not bad. Quite fancy. I wished my parents were here to see me. They’d—
I cut off that thought before it could fully form. I’d cry.
Something warm and wet trickled down my cheek. Great. I was already crying.
My cell phone chirped, signaling a text had just come in. I wiped the tears away with the back of my hand.
Cole McHottie: Sorry, Ali, but making plans w/U was a mistake. I need a break. Stay in & we’ll talk 2morrow
I had to read the words three times before reality set in. He needed a freaking break? Seriously?
From what? I wanted to scream. And what, exactly did “need a break” mean?
My anger and disappointment were as sharp as a blade.
Me: WHY? What’s going on w/you? Respect me enough 2 talk 2 me! Apparently that’s how relationships WORK.
A minute passed. Two, three. He didn’t respond.
I threw my phone across the room, and then had to rush over to make sure I hadn’t cracked the screen.
What the heck was he planning to do on this “break”?
And whom was he going to do it with?
This can’t be happening.
My cell phone chirped. Heart racing, I checked the screen.
Mad Dog: Where are U?
Me, pressing the keys a little too forcefully: Home.
Mad Dog: U ditched Cole??
Me: No. He ditched me.
Mad Dog: UH, HE’S HERE. Just walked in.
Wait, wait, wait. He’d meant he needed a break from me?
Yeah. He must have. He had to know Kat would contact me. He had to know I would find out he’d gone to Hearts without me.
He just didn’t care.
I trembled as I typed What’s he doing?
Mad Dog: He’s talking w/Lucas, Veronica & that hobag Trina & get this: he’s wearing a costume that says he’s a bad mofo—meaning, he’s not in costume.
Veronica again.
Me, grinding my teeth: He told me he needed a break from me.
Mad Dog: WHAT? Oh, I’ll give him a break—in both of his legs!! 1st, of course, I’ll spy.
For the next hour, I received nearly fifty texts from Kat.
He’s talking w/Frosty now.
Just came out of shadows w/Justin S—what’s up w/THAT?? Altho, he just had Frosty kick JS out of club & it wasn’t pretty (4 JS).
