“Are you kidding? Ruining my life? Kitten, without you I have no life.” The words explode from me with more force than I intend. “I would rather cut off my left nut than yell at you. I’m sorry,” I repeat. “I shouldn’t have raised my voice.”
“Well, you are not forgiven!” She anchors her hands on her hips. “Since I’ve been living up there—” she hikes her thumb toward the sky “—I’ve had the opportunity to watch you behind the scenes. And guess what? You’ve turned Beefcake TV into Bama’s Crappiest Videos. Starting today, you’re going out there and doing good deeds.”
For her? Anything. “What do you consider a good deed?”
“To begin, you’re going to help your friends by participating in the zombie-human war. And you’re going to do it with a smile!” She stomps her foot. “Do you hear me?”
“Yes. Help friends. Fight. Smile. If I do these things, you’ll stay with me?”
She closes her eyes for a moment, sighs. “And I told the council I had this in the bag. Bad Kat. Bad!”
“Council?” If she’s a figment of my shattered imagination, shouldn’t I have some sort of control over her? Shouldn’t her logic match my own, considering it’s, well, mine? Clearly, I have no control over this girl, and I definitely have no idea what she’s talking about.
It suddenly hits me with the force of a baseball bat. She is a witness, real though not corporeal, and she is here.
Joy floods me. “Never mind.” I stalk forward.
She backs into the brick wall. A wall I help douse in Blood Lines once every week, making it solid to spirits. That way, zombies can’t ghost inside the building.
When she’s almost within reach, I push my spirit out of my body, an action that requires faith—the spiritual power source for all slayers, just like food is a power source for our outer shell—believing I can do it before I actually do it.
Now, without my flesh to act as insulation, the air seems a thousand degrees colder. I endure because spirits can be touched only by other spirits, and I want to touch Kat with every fiber of my being. But the second I stretch out my arm, she jumps to the side to avoid contact.
“Hold on there, grabby.” She gives a shake of her head, dark hair dancing over her shoulders. “I haven’t always followed the rules—or ever followed the rules—but all that’s behind me. You have no idea what I had to do to get here, or what will happen if I mess up, and there’s no time to explain. Not during this visit. Just know that one touch of your spirit to mine will ensure I’m never allowed back.”
My fists clench and unclench as I return to my body. We can’t touch, fine. We won’t touch.
However I can get her, I remind myself.
Her expression gentles. “I’m your past, Frosty, and for now, I’m your present. But you need to come to grips with the fact that I will never be part of your future.”
“You are my past, present and future, kitten.” I’ll never come to grips with anything else.
“Frosty—”
“Kat.” I flatten my hands at her temples. “Why am I just now seeing you? Why did you stay away so long?”
Her gaze remains on me, but for several heartbeats of time, I’m certain she’s no longer seeing me. Her attention is far away, somewhere I’ve never been. Somewhere I can’t go. “Like I said, there’s no time to get into the nuts and bolts during this visit.”
“But you will visit me again?”
She gives a sharp incline of her head. “For the next few months, you’ll be the lucky recipient of one visit a day, every day.”
That’s not good enough. “I won’t be satisfied until you’re surgically attached to my side.”
She rolls her eyes. “This isn’t a negotiation, and you didn’t let me finish. I will visit you once every day...as long as you’ve done something productive for our cause.”
I arch a brow. “You’re bribing me?”
“Oh, good. You understand.” She beams at me, making my chest ache. “And no, tonight wasn’t a bonus. You still have to earn the privilege.”
That’s my Kat, always determined to get her way. It’s one of the thousand things I love about her. She takes what she wants when she wants it, damn the consequences.
I wish I could kiss her, but if touching her means losing her, I’ll keep my hands—and my mouth—to myself. “Get ready to see a whole lot more of me, kitten. I’ll do anything to spend time with you.”
“Duh. I’m so cake I’m the cake.” Her image begins to fade, and I shake my head violently.
“Kat!”
“Listen, Frosty, I’m almost out of time and I haven’t told you what you need to do. It’s imperative—”
“No. You stay with me. Do you hear me? We’re not done.”
Her head whips to the side as if she hears a noise I do not, and her eyes widen. I follow the line of her gaze...and see a ghostly image of Ali’s younger sister, Emma, whose mouth is moving. Still I hear nothing.
“Crappity crap crap. It’s worse than we thought,” Kat says as she faces me again. “She’s alone, and they’re surrounding her. She desperately needs your help, Frosty. You have to go to her.”
“Who? Emma?”
“No, just—”