A Mad Zombie Party

“River told you... Well. He doesn’t share even those details very often. Or ever. Dad was...he was murdered.”


By who? River? Or maybe Milla herself? Did their abuser finally push them too far? I want to ask, but I’ll be delving into extremely personal territory. Hell, I already have. But the further I go, the more answers I’ll owe her about my own life. I can’t give her what I’ve only ever given Cole and Kat. I just can’t.

“Your weapons are on a tray beside the gurney. There will be a guard I trust outside your door at all times, and I’ll make sure you’re given a phone. Call me if you need anything.”

“You’re leaving the mansion?”

“Yeah. There’s something I have to do.” I place my hand on the knob, but once again I stop. I have another question, and I don’t want to leave until I know the answer. “In your sleep you said a name. Mace.”

She sucks in a breath, hurt she can’t hide suddenly gleaming in her eyes.

“Who is he?”

“The only boyfriend I ever loved,” she says quietly, and something dark curls through me.

“Where is he now?”

“Dead. Like Kat.” She smiles at me, but the expression lacks any kind of humor. “You and I have something in common. We both lost our happily-ever-after.”

I want details. I have to know everything. It’s suddenly a compulsion, an obsession I can’t explain. But when I open my mouth to ask, she whispers, “Just go. Please.”

I’ve stepped on a land mine of bad memories, and she’s done hurting for me. If we were together I could keep pressing; I could carry some of the hurt for her, could help her heal. But we aren’t, and I can’t.

I leave her then, and find Cole waiting in the hall. “Ali wants to talk with you about the vision she had involving Milla.”

“Something change?”

“I’m told you may get hurt even if you’re saved.”

Physical pain? Big deal. “A chat will have to wait. I’m about to arm up and head out.”

“Fair enough. Need anything?”

“Yeah. Do me a solid and station Bronx at Milla’s door. And if you have extra cell phones, give her one and text me the number.”

He grins at me, slowly, slyly. “It’s nice to see you again, my friend. Very nice.”

“What does that mean? You’ve seen me every day for a week.”

“Yeah, but this is the first time I’ve seen you. Also, I approve of your hunt for Tiffany.” Cole knows me well. “I’ve been in contact with River. He’s staked out in front of her house. She hasn’t visited her mom since she escaped, but...”

A dog never strays too far from home.

“We’ll take care of her,” I say, relish in every word.





I throw my legs over the side of the bed and stand. My knees shake—a ten on the Richter scale—but I manage to remain upright. Another day has passed. Eight in total that I’ve been stuck flat on my back, and I’m not spending another second that way.

Earlier, Reeve removed the tubes and ran more tests. No matter how much antidote she introduced to samples of my blood, the zombie toxin remained. Except, I’m not rotting. I’m not changing. She’s not sure what’s happening to me exactly, which makes me think the toxin is working on a spiritual level and the changes simply haven’t manifested physically. Yet.

It worries me big-time, but I won’t let myself wallow. There are things to do and people to save. Whatever happens to me, well, it happens.

As soon as I’m steady, I release the bed rail. I stay on my feet and even manage a shuffle-walk to the bathroom. Win! There’s a pile of clean clothes resting by the sink, and for a moment all I can do is gape. Someone anticipated my needs and cared enough to follow through.

These slayers...they really are good people. The best. I never should have betrayed them.

A hot shower invigorates me, and by the time I step out to dry off, I feel human again. I dress in a T-shirt that reads Wanna Taste? and a pair of shorts with pockets deeper than the hemline.

I exit the bathroom on a cloud of fragrant steam and find Ali and Kat perched on my gurney, a dark-haired little girl dressed in a pink tutu twirling in front of them.

The ballerina stops when she notices me. “Hi.” She smiles. “I’m Emma.”

“My little sister, in case you didn’t know,” Ali says. “She’s a witness, like Kat.”

“Actually, I’m the best witness.” Emma performs a pirouette.

“Sorry, Em, but I held a vote.” Kat stands and anchors her hands on her waist. “I won by a landslide. You need to accept it.”

“We tied, Kitty. You voted for you, and I voted for me.”

“Right, but as the adult, I had to break the tie. After a completely unbiased deliberation, I had to go with myself.”

“Anyway,” Ali says with a fond smile. “We heard you stirring.” There’s more color in her cheeks today, but she’s still paler than usual. “You shouldn’t be up and about yet.”

“You probably shouldn’t, either, considering you’ve been sick, and yet here you are.”

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