The Queen of Zombie Hearts (The White Rabbit Chronicles)

Wait. Scratch that. Bad things tended to happen whenever I contemplated that question.

The detectives had been monitoring us—and had readily admitted it—but if they’d seen us doing anything illegal, they hadn’t alluded to it or even asked questions about it. In fact, they’d seemed downright leery of us. As if their eyes had finally been opened to the truth, and they knew we were slayers, the only thing standing between them and a zombie apocalypse.

They’d come because a corpse had been found. A teenage boy.

They showed River and Cole a set of photographs, hoping to get an ID, and River finally said, his tone hollow, “That’s Cary. He’s mine. No other family.”

The detectives offered little information about the boy’s murder and soon left with a cryptic “Be careful.”

What did they know? And did it affect us?

“Let’s get back to Ankh’s.” Cole wrapped his arm around me, and for the first time, it wasn’t a gesture of affection or comfort, but an intractable hold to prevent me from bolting.

To River, he said, “I’ll call you in the morning and tell you our next move.”

River disguised his anguish with an irritated expression. “You’ll tell me?”

“We’ll decide together,” I offered. We needed everyone’s mind programmed to only one setting: attack. We had to be smart about this, all head, no emotion. Justin’s life depended on it.

Cole led me away. “Helen,” he said quietly.

Wanted to lie. “Yes.” Couldn’t.

“And the memory thing?”

“Helen,” I whispered.

His fingers bit into my shoulder. “I thought you knew better. She’s a liar, Ali. She’s a betrayer.”

“She’s my mother, Cole.”

He sucked in a breath. “Is that affection I detect in your tone?”

No. Yes. “Maybe.”

“I can’t believe you’re doing this. She abandoned you. She betrayed our kind. Killed my mother! Ensured she was turned. Because of Helen, I had to watch my father ash my mother—after she attacked me, her own son.”

Aching for the boy he’d been, and the man he’d become, I whispered, “I’m not disagreeing with you. What Helen did was wrong, no matter her reasons.”

“Exactly. There’s no reason good enough.”

And still I said, “What you don’t know is that she was desperate, felt she had no good choices.” The words sounded lame, even to me. “But she’s different now.”

“People don’t change, Ali.”

“They do.”

“She’s going to get you killed. Get us all killed.”

“Cole—”

“No. Don’t you dare try to talk me into forgiving her.”

“That’s not what I’m doing.” I tried again. “Cole—”

Again he shut me down. “Did last night mean anything to you?” Cursing under his breath, he let me go and quickened his pace, moving ahead of me.

Realization hit. The boy I’d trusted with my body, and given my heart to, had just left me in his dust. There had been no talking it over. No compromise.

Things weren’t easier after sex, I realized. They were far more complicated.

“Anything to me?” I called. “What about you?”

He ignored me.

I’d hurt him. I knew it. But he’d hurt me, too. And now...now I was on my own. Confused, more vulnerable than ever before.

I trudged behind with the rest of our crew. This wasn’t my fault. Cole was wrong to make me pick between him and my mother. Wasn’t he? Gah! Or was I wrong for expecting him to accept her?

Kat came up beside me and linked our fingers. “I get the feeling your boy is being as lame as mine.”

“I don’t know what to think.” I glanced up at the clouds—saw a rabbit cloud and sighed.

Had definitely gotten worse.

“Always blame the guy,” she said. “That’s my new motto. And I’ve been plotting revenge. It goes a little something like this. We run away together, get married the way I know you want to, and then, just for grins and gigs, we send the boys a postcard that says, and I quote, ‘Are you still planning to murder your postman?’”

This girl... Light. Of. My. Life. “I’m in!”

Halfway to the car, Cole stopped, his nose wrinkling as he sniffed the air.

“Rot,” he announced.

Surely not...but I sniffed, and yep, encountered the telltale scent of rot. “But it’s daylight.”

“Could be a dead animal.” Even still, he withdrew his crossbow. “Jaclyn, let River know what’s going on. Frosty, get Kat inside.”

As Jaclyn raced back into the building and Frosty hefted Kat over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes, the rest of the slayers withdrew their weapons, preparing for battle. I searched the area, expecting to find...maybe a family of slaughtered raccoons. May they rest in peace. I could even visualize what had happened. They’d crossed the street, hoping to start a new life in River’s front lawn, but some hit-and-run driver mowed them down. What I didn’t expect to find was—

Zombies.

There.

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