Voice rough, he offered instruction. I obeyed, adding my own spin here and there.
He gripped my hair, then the sheets. “Ali.” My name was nothing more than a luscious rasp.
Even though this round wasn’t about me, I was just as affected. Just as connected to him. Knowing that he was feeling what I had felt, that I was the one responsible, the one making him feel that way, that he might just have a Property of Ali Bell stamped on every part of him, was sweet and heady.
“Ali!”
A roar this time.
The perfect end.
Afterward, we snuggled together on the bed, with my head resting on his chest. His heart raced.
“Is it always like that?” I asked. We hadn’t gone all the way, but still. I’d check off this experience as close.
“Being in love makes all the difference in the world.”
I believed that. I also knew he hadn’t loved the other girls—hadn’t claimed to, ever. And yet, I was still jealous in a way I didn’t understand.
“I know you know this, but I’ll repeat it,” he said, probably noticing the way I’d stiffened. “When we’re in bed together, there’s no one else with us. It’s just you and me. I’m not comparing you to anyone. How could I? No one could compare to you.”
He plucked the thunder right out of my jealousy, and I didn’t know whether to be thrilled or ticked. Why not both? I tugged his nipple ring with my teeth.
“For a big, tough guy, you’re kind of whipped,” I teased.
“Are you complaining?” He twirled a lock of my hair around his finger. Habit, I supposed. “Because I haven’t forgotten I owe you a spanking.”
I snorted and laughed at the same time, and the sound I made as a result was not pretty.
Cole grinned. “I wish my mother was alive. She would have adored you.”
A girl could hope. “She was a slayer,” I said, remembering what he’d once told me. She’d been attacked by a horde of zombies and bitten. The antidote hadn’t worked on her, and she’d later risen from her grave as a zombie.
Later attacked Cole.
Mr. Holland was forced to kill her—again.
“Yeah, and a good one, too. But she was better at recruiting new members to the team. She was the one who brought in Veronica’s mom, a former Anima employee.”
He had more history with Veronica than I’d realized. No wonder he and Juliana were so tight. They’d probably grown up together.
Well, hello. The jealousy had returned.
After everything he and I had just done, and shared, that shouldn’t have bugged me. Key word: shouldn’t.
“How does that work? Trusting a former Anima employee?” I asked. “Didn’t your mom and dad fear she was there as a spy?”
“At first. But she was in some kind of fugue state for a while, and that kind of thing can’t be easily faked. When she came out of it, her memory was gone, but she earned their loyalty by saving my mom’s life.”
Yeah, but even that could have been a trick. A setup. Not that it had been, but yeah. “How did your parents react when you and Veronica started dating?”
“By that time, my mom was already dead.”
Duh! I should have known that. He’d been too young to date when she’d passed away. “I’m sorry.”
“But she would have loved it,” he admitted softly, and I stiffened all over again. “Veronica’s mom wasn’t interested in her kids, so mine kind of took over their care for a while. Mom favored her.”
Poor Veronica. Poor Juliana. I’d known they hadn’t had an easy childhood, but it seemed to get worse every time I heard about it. And yet, I couldn’t help but wonder—even as I yawned—if the relationship between the two women was Veronica’s “ace in the hole.”
Cole kissed my forehead. “Go to sleep, love. Big day tomorrow.”
“Not yet. Gotta show you something.” Yawning wider, I grabbed my phone—saw a million texts from Kat, and one from Nana, and made a mental note to contact them as I opened my photos. “I found this in Camilla’s room.” I decided not to mention Helen. Not yet. “Can you decipher it?”
The stronger our spirits were, the easier the code opened up for us. Right now, he was stronger than me.
He propped himself against the headboard, intently studying each photo. I sat up, too, enraptured by him. He could have been the poster child for concentration. Then...oh, good glory, then liquid silver spilled into his eyes, overshadowing the violet completely.
More than windows. Mirrors. It was creepy.
It was also freaking awesome.
“‘At the right time, in the right place, the sacrifice of one will lead to the liberation of many,’” he read. “‘Be ready. You have to be ready. Soon. She’s coming soon. Be ready.’” He paused. “Those words are repeated again and again.”
Prickles of dread, like thousands of needles in my skin. The journal I’d read had been written in past tense, yet this one spoke of the future. Who had written it? And how had the author known what would happen? A slayer ability? Like, say, a vision?
“Who is she?” I asked, thinking out loud. “This one to be sacrificed?”