“So he doesn’t need any, and he’s good to go?” Kat quipped.
“Tell that to him,” I said to Mr. Ankh, then hiked my thumb at Kat. “And her.”
He threw his arms up, all I’m the last sane man in the universe. “Why do I even bother? No one ever does as I recommend anyway.”
All right. I’d try this from a different angle. Hopefully one that wouldn’t give him a coronary. “Had you told everyone about the church,” I said, “this could have been avoided. But you didn’t.” Throwing blame. Maybe not the best route. But the truth was the truth, and I wasn’t going to sugarcoat it.
He glared at me. “After Justin betrayed us, I wasn’t sure who I could trust, and I wanted Reeve to have an escape that no one else knew about. You can’t fault me for that.”
I heard the guilt in his tone. The self-recrimination. “No. I can’t.”
I hadn’t been part of the group back when Justin started sharing slayer secrets with Anima. But I had been part of the group when his equally culpable twin sister was captured and tortured right alongside me, and he’d realized just how badly he’d screwed up. He’d helped us destroy an entire contingent of Anima soldiers.
“If you have a better idea for finding the others,” I said, after devouring the last of my sandwich, “I’ll do it.”
“Hey,” both girls bellowed in unison.
Mr. Ankh glared at me.
“Daddy,” Reeve said, “I’ve been training. I’m not helpless. And I want to help. I need to help. Don’t stand in my way. Let me act like the girl you raised me to be. Strong. Courageous. The girl you wished Momma had been.”
Her mother hadn’t been able to see the zombies, but still she’d feared them. That fear had grown...and grown...until she’d committed suicide.
My mind drifted to my own mother. Her family had come from a line of slayers, but she herself hadn’t been able to see the zombies, either. She’d been so beautiful. Short, with dark hair, eyes and skin. Just like my sweet Emma. When people had seen the three of us together, they’d assumed tall, fair me was adopted.
“Very well,” Mr. Ankh finally croaked. “Do what you think is best. But I want you back within these walls by ten. No later.”
I nodded, flabbergasted by his acceptance. I hadn’t even had to beg.
“If you’re saying yes just so you can blindside me with a sedative before I walk out the door,” Reeve said, deflating some of my triumph, “you should know that this is the last time I will ever trust you.”
He held her gaze for a long while, his eyelids slits, and I knew what he was thinking. First: Crap, she figured out my plan. Second: She’s not ready for this.
And he was right. She wasn’t.
In training, it was best to start with something easy, win and move on to something harder. Build your confidence and your skills. Reeve was still in the “easy” phase, and yet I expected her to remove her training wheels and slay a dragon?
So, I totally got Mr. Ankh’s fear. I simply wasn’t going to cave to it. We had a choice. Give up and let the enemy do worse, or rise up with what we had and go balls to the wall.
I was going balls to the wall. And if I lost, at least I’d go out in a blaze of glory.
“Fine,” he said, releasing a breath of defeat. He flattened his hands on the table—in an effort to avoid his needles, I was sure. “Go with Ali. Search.” His dark gaze slid to me and narrowed. “I’m holding you responsible for her safety. Kat’s, too.”
He wasn’t the only one.
Jaw clenched, he said, “There’s a car in the church parking lot you can use. It’s beaten up on the outside, but the engine purrs with more than a hundred ponies ready to run.”
Typical guy description.
I gave him a jaunty salute.
He marched off to his office, mumbling under his breath, and we marched to the armory.
By the time the girls and I finished loading up with weapons—daggers in our boots, sedatives in our purses, guns sheathed at our waists, extra bullets in our pockets, brass knuckles on our hands—Cole was dressed and ready, the IV nowhere in sight.
His cheeks were paler than before, indicative of the strain he’d just put himself through, as he handed each of us one of the burners. “My new number is already programmed in.”
“Sweet sling, Cole,” Kat said with her patented smile. “It only knocks three points off your alpha-male card.”
His response was dry. “I’m sure spanking a naughty little girl like you will return my number to its original glory.”
Kat’s wide gaze immediately swung to me. “You didn’t tell me that your boyfriend had a pain-and-punishment fetish.”
“You didn’t ask. But yeah, he does. I’m threatened with a spanking daily.”
“Lucky,” she whispered, skipping past me, heading toward the entrance to the secret passage.
We climbed in the golf cart, Reeve at the wheel.