Through the Zombie Glass

Shaking, I said, “Why did you tackle me if you thought I was a hiker?”


He drew in a deep breath, slowly released it. “A hiker sneaking around, as if looking for someone. I didn’t want to take any chances.” He scrubbed a hand down his face. “Everyone leaves and your ability to spirit walk magically starts working again? You got something to confess to me, Bell?”

I reeled for a moment. “Just what are you accusing me of, Holland?”

“Were you spying on me?”

He... Oh... I gasped and sputtered. “I was not. I was spying on a spy. Was that you I saw skulking after Trina and Lucas?”

A moment passed, the silence laced with incredulity. Cursing, he settled back on his haunches. “Someone was tailing them?”

“I think so, yes.”

“What did he look like?”

“Like you, only not quite as tall. Strong. Wearing a bandanna.” Cole wasn’t wearing one. “His shoes left little golden smears behind.”

Hope filled his eyes, softened his features. “Show me.” He stood and helped me do the same.

Having his fingers intertwined with mine...the warmth, the comfort...I liked it, wanted more and hated myself far more than I hated him. The moment I was upright, I released him. My mouth dried as I backtracked, looking for that last smear I’d seen.

“There,” I said, pointing. “Do you see it?”

“No.”

No matter. He’d never been able to see the Blood Lines, either.

He examined the area. “Is there another one nearby?”

I searched and found another and another, but after a while the smears vanished. Either the guy had left the area or he’d overheard us and had known to take off his shoes.

“Okay. All right,” Cole said. He pinched the bridge of his nose. “The spy has been verified, at least. And now I know he’s male. That cuts my suspect list down.”

“You suspected there was a spy.” A statement, not a question. That was why he’d been spying.

He leaped into action, closing the distance between us. When he reached me, he grabbed me by the shoulders. “You will not tell a soul, Ali. Promise me.”

Had I been a suspect, as well?

Anger returned, white-hot. “Why did you let Justin back in? I know he helped us before, but how do you know beyond any doubt he’s not double-crossing you?”

He shook his head. “I’m not talking about this.”

“Not with me, you mean. Have you discussed it with Veronica?” Stop. Just stop.

His nostrils flared. With anger? With relief? “Do you want to hear what happened with her?” he asked tightly.

Yes! “No.” I don’t know.

“I’ll tell you. I think I actually want to tell you. Then you’ll stay away from me, even when I’m stupid enough to come sniffing around. I’ll finally stop wanting what I know I can’t have.”

I glared at him, saying, “You don’t have to say another word for that to happen.”

“I was at home,” he began. “She came over.”

I shook my head. “Shut up.”

It was an order, but it wasn’t his will. He continued. “I had been drinking. I never drink, but I was trying to forget about you.”

“Shut up!”

“I had been drinking a lot. I kissed her. I thought about never being with you again, and I was angry with you, thinking about you with Gavin, and I kissed her with everything I had. I took off her shirt. I touched her.”

“Shut up!” He was throwing the details at me as if they were weapons.

They were.

“She unbuckled my pants. I—”

“Shut up, shut up, shut up!” I was standing in front of him before I realized I’d moved. Both of my arms heated to a nearly unbearable degree, as if I was about to ash a zombie. But when I raised my hand and swiped at Cole’s cheek, the flames crackling from my skin weren’t white—they were red.

Cole tumbled to the ground as if he’d been hit by a Mack truck. He quickly jumped to his feet, now watching me warily. His cheek was split, but because he was in spirit form, the wound wasn’t bleeding. His body would be, though. Back at the barn, I bet crimson streaked his face.

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