“It’s not strange. It’s terrible! I hate knowing, but I’ve decided to girl up and finally discuss the...you-knows from now on. And just so we’re clear, girling up is far better than manning up.”
“Good. About the you-knows.” Knowledge was power, and I wanted her safe. Always.
The housekeeper bustled into the kitchen, spotted me, and asked if she could fix me something to eat. I declined, and she loaded a tray with croissants and cappuccino to take to Mr. Ankh. The fragrance of yeast and sugar mingled, filling the room and making my mouth water.
The moment she was gone, I hopped up to wipe the crumbs from the counter. Then I grabbed the bag of bagels I’d bought with my allowance and offered one to Kat.
She shook her head. “So...I’m sure you surmised from my oh so subtle texts that Frosty and I are over. Or is it Frosty and me? I always forget. Anyway, it’s for reals this time.”
“What happened?” I devoured the bagel in record time, and though I craved a second one so bad, I resisted. The longer these lasted, the fewer I would have to buy, and the less I’d have to spend.
“Last night,” she said, looking miserable, “I wasn’t feeling well—not that Frosty knew that part. I asked him to stay with me, and he refused.”
“When the you-knows are out, he has to fight. We all do, if we’re well. It’s our duty.” Our privilege.
“A night off wouldn’t have killed him,” she grumbled.
“But it might have killed his friends. They need all the backup they can get.”
She frowned at me. “Do you have to be so reasonable, tossing out such intelligent responses?”
“I’m sorry. I’ll try to do better.”
“Thank you.”
I studied her. She was such a beautiful girl. Petite, but curvy. Fragile, yet resilient. Her mom had suffered with the same kidney disease most of her too-short life. Kat was militant about keeping her declining health from Frosty and the boys, and so far she’d succeeded.
She lived for the moment. She never held back—in words or in action. She had no desire to fade from the world, but wanted to make an impact, a difference, and go out swinging. I could help her with that.
“How would you feel about learning to defend yourself against the you-knows?” I asked. My dad had trained me to fight them before I’d possessed the ability to see them, and that training had been invaluable when my circumstances changed. Maybe Kat would see the zombies one day. Maybe she wouldn’t. Either way, I could equip her to make smarter choices.
“I’d feel...great. I think.”
“That’s good enough for me. Cole has a gym, and it’s loaded with all the equipment we’ll need. I can show you how to shoot a gun and use a bow and arrow.”
She waved a hand through the air, probably trying for dismissive, but I saw the gleam of fear behind the action. “No need for that part of the training.”
“You’ve used both weapons before?”
“No, but the unaimed weapon never misses. I’d rather stick with that method.”
I rolled my eyes.
“Will Frosty be there?” She nibbled on her bottom lip as she waited for my answer.
“Maybe.”
I couldn’t tell whether that pleased her or upset her; the chewing never stopped. “Well, today’s, like, the biggest holiday of the year, so I’ll pencil you in for noon sharp tomorrow. Or maybe sometime next week would be best. Yes. Definitely next week.”
“Nope. You’ll pencil me in for now and tomorrow and next week. I’m not letting you put this off. We’re going to turn you into a rabid, frothing-at-the-mouth fighting machine. You’ll be so hard-core, you’ll be able to knock Frosty on his butt as easily as breathing.”
A scary kind of anticipation lit her features. “Okay, I’m in. But only because I know I’ll look good with biceps. True story.” She drained what remained of her coffee and slammed the mug onto the table. “Let’s go before I change my mind.”