Through the Zombie Glass

I had spent the first sixteen years of my life under the watchful eye of a man who’d seen monsters no one else could see. I’d thought him insane, and part of me had resented him for the rules he’d enforced, the trouble he’d caused.

He’d built a house to protect us, a fortress of solitude, really, with iron behind the walls and bars over the windows. My sister and I had left our prison to attend school and church, and the occasional lunch date with our grandparents, but that was it. Every other second had been spent in confinement.

Now I knew more about the invisible world around me, more than Dad had ever known, and I knew the iron and the bars wouldn’t have kept the monsters at bay. Only Blood Lines could. I knew zombies were drawn to life—the very thing they’d lost. I knew they hungered for slayers first, and average Joes second. We were tastier dishes, I guess. I knew they found fear to be an aphrodisiac and fury to be a dessert.

Emotion added spice.

As miserable as I’d been back then, I missed the life I used to lead. I missed the hours I’d spent holding my sister while she drifted to sleep. I missed the hugs my mother had so freely given. Missed the smiles she and my dad used to share. The food she used to cook. The notes she used to leave under my pillow.





I love you, Alice Rose.

Thinking about you today, darling girl.

You’re so strong and beautiful. How’d I get so lucky?





Remembering caused pain to scrape at my chest, over and over, again and again, razor-sharp claws tearing into flesh and muscle, even bone, leaving me raw and bleeding. I hurt. Oh, glory, I hurt with a hunger no one should ever have to endure. It was as if I’d never eaten. As if my body was destroying itself, cell by cell. And all the while, those two hearts pounded in my chest.

I unleashed a terrible scream.

The pain only expanded, razing my mind, pooling even in my toes. I tried to burrow my fingers past my skull, my chest, somewhere, anywhere, desperate to reach the pain and snatch it away, but I failed miserably.

My blood turned molten in my veins, burning me from the inside out. But a second later, a chill danced over my skin, causing me to shiver. Cold. My teeth chattered as I burrowed deeper under the blanket. Hot. I kicked the stupid blanket away. Cold. I pulled my arms into my chest, trying to curl into myself for warmth. Hot. I tore at my clothing.

“Ali,” called a voice I knew I should recognize. Male. Raspy with concern.

Cole, maybe. I inhaled deeply, and oh, he smelled so good. Pure and crisp and crackling with energy. The hunger overwhelmed me all over again. My mouth watered. “Feed me,” I croaked.

Gentle hands smoothed over my cheeks, offering a comforting stroke.

My nerve endings went haywire, agonizing me further. I jerked away. “No. Don’t.”

“Ali.”

Grab him. Devour him. You’ll feel so much better.

“I administered a double dose of the antidote hours ago. Why isn’t she better?”

Definitely Cole. He was here. He was with me.

“Give her another.”

“Can she take it?”

“Do we have a choice?”

A sharp sting in my neck, a cool rush through my veins, and the pain and hunger at last died. The second heartbeat slowed, softened, but didn’t disappear completely. Still, it was enough. I sagged into a boneless heap.

“Ali, I need you to wake up, okay?”

Anything for Cole. I ripped my way through the veil of darkness shrouding my conscious and pried open my eyelids. At first, I saw only a haze of white clouds.

Clouds.

Emma.

But...she wasn’t here. Where was here? I frowned.

“Good girl, that’s the way,” Cole said. “Come back to me, sweetheart.”

Sweetheart. An endearment.

He wasn’t upset with me anymore.

Blinking rapidly shooed away the haze. Cole leaned over the side of the bed, peering down at me. Black hair shagged over a forehead furrowed with a mix of worry and relief. His eyes were glassy and bloodshot, making me think he’d been denied sleep. The shadow-beard he always sported was now thicker.

“Hey there,” he said softly.

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