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“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.
