Bronx swallows a bite of red velvet pancakes. He’s always had a sweet tooth, and it’s always amused me. With his wild, spiked green hair and multiple facial piercings, he looks as if he’d prefer rusty nails and shards of glass. “It has everything we need. Big-assed bedrooms, each with its own private bathroom. Enough for everyone on our crew and everyone we’re recruiting. There’s a gym. A sauna. An indoor pool. Even a basketball court. Plus, when I’m finished, security will be top-of-the-line.”
My first thought: Kat would have loved living with the group. Hell, she would have loved my small, barely furnished apartment, paid for by the trust Reeve’s dad left me. He left one for all of us, actually. We’re all richer than we could have ever dreamed, and yet, the money is as much a curse as a blessing to me. What I can’t share with Kat, well, it isn’t worth having. Including my poor excuse for a life.
I grind my molars so forcefully I expect to swallow broken bits of enamel. As her image sparks to life in the back of my mind, I close my eyes. A memory begins to play with Technicolor clarity. She’s sitting on my lap, and I’m toying with the ends of her silky hair.
“If I only have ten more days to live,” she says, “what would you want to do with me?”
I guess her intention right away, know she’s trying to prepare me. She’s suffered from kidney disease her entire life, and she suspects the end will come sooner rather than later. “Hold on and never let go.”
“Boring.”
“Chain you to my bed.”
The corners of her mouth twitch. “A possibility.”
Getting serious, I say, “Die with you.” And I mean the words with every fiber of my being.
She climbs to her knees and cups my face to hold my gaze. As if I would ever look away from her. When she’s near, she’s all I see. “You’re going to live, Frost. You’ll go to college and make friends and play sports and yes, date other girls.”
“I don’t do any of that shi—stuff now.” I don’t like to curse in front of her. I want to be a positive influence, never a bad one.
“You’re going to meet someone else, someone special, and she’s—”
“There is no one else.” I’ve been lost for this girl since minute one.
Her head tilts to the side, strands of her hair lifting with a gentle breeze. “Granted, with her you won’t have as much fun and your kids won’t be nearly as attractive, but I’m sure she’ll make you happy...occasionally.”
Not gonna happen. Ever. “You’re it for me, kitten. That will never change.”
In the present, someone taps my shoulder. I meet Cole’s violet gaze, the concern radiating from his rugged features almost my undoing. He loves me. I know he loves me, and he only wants the best for me. But I can’t have the best, and I’m not going to pretend I have something else to live for. Well, something other than revenge.
“Come with us to see the house,” he says. “Pick a room.”
A room I won’t be sharing with Kat. “I already have a place.” I breathe in...out...but I don’t calm down. I stand, my chair skidding behind me. “I have to go.”
A muscle jumps beneath his eye. “Where?”
Somewhere else. Anywhere else. “I just... I’ll see you guys around.” I stride out of the diner without ever looking back.
I crouch on top of a tombstone gargoyle-style, waiting for the spirits of the recently dead to rise. I don’t have to worry they’ll be witnesses, the good guys. Witnesses leave the body at the moment of death and ascend. Zombies tend to linger for several hours, or even a day or two, and on rare occasions an entire week. Don’t ask me why there’s a difference. Zombie physiology isn’t my forte. All I know is that the creatures need time to gather enough strength to crawl out.
They are always starved for what they’ve lost, for the most precious thing on this earth. Life.
I’ve been listening to police scanners, sneaking into hospitals to examine death records and patrolling cemeteries for people who have died of Antiputrefactive Syndrome. The past few days, there have been six, and all six will result in brand-spanking-new zombies.
AS is what doctors call death by zombie bite. Not that anyone in the medical field actually knows an injection of straight-up evil is the reason portions of a victim’s skin turn black and ooze pus as their organs rot...until an excruciating death finally ends the torment. Well, until the real torture begins. Eternity as one of the undead.
No one would believe me if I explained the truth. Hell, I might even end up in a padded room, medicated to the max. It’s happened to a couple of my friends.
Former friends.
Anyway.
Fingers crossed I get to kill all six zombies tonight.
Killing is my business, and like anyone else, I’m happiest when business is good.
And I need a little good in life. I’m the most hated slayer in the state. With excellent reason. But even though my friends hate me, I haven’t stopped loving them, which is why I’m here. The more Zs I kill, the less they have to fight. I want to make their lives better, easier—to make River’s life easier.
For years, my brother protected me and my—