Through the Zombie Glass

Ten minutes later, we reached the house. She parked in the driveway. It was a two-story in the shape of a C, with redbrick and white shuttered windows. A step up from Nana’s home, definitely newer, but colder—and a dump compared to Ankh’s. Keep it together.

I carted the bags into the living room, surprised to see the place was empty, and surprised by my surprise. What? I’d expected the guy to keep us in style? The walls had been painted in bold, bright colors. Red. Blue. Green. I figured there was a Blood Line around the property, but I wouldn’t be relying on a supposition. I’d talk to Nana, then get to work.

“Ali,” Nana said, her voice breaking at the edges.

Calm. “I was bitten,” I explained. “I was given the antidote, and that helped, but it didn’t destroy the zombie toxin. I’m doing terrible things. Dangerous things. Becoming what I hate most. Mr. Ankh feared for Reeve. And Nana... I fear for you. I think it would be better if I—”

“No!” she said with a violet shake of her head. She closed the distance between us and grabbed me by the forearms. “You’re not staying somewhere else, or whatever you were going to say. You’re my granddaughter and I love you. We will stay together and I will help you.”

My chin trembled. I so did not deserve this woman.

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

“At first, I wasn’t sure what was happening to me. Then...” Man, this was difficult to admit. “I was just too scared of what would happen.”

“Oh, Ali.”

I placed my hands over hers. “If ever I do something to frighten you, or my eyes turn red, or I stare at you too long, run. Run and don’t look back.”

She gave me a small shake. “You’re not going to become a zombie, young lady. I won’t let you.”

A small laugh escaped me. I wish I had her confidence.

I leaned forward and enfolded her in a hug. “Thank you for loving me. And I really am sorry about dinner. If I’d kept our plans, last night wouldn’t have... Well, it doesn’t matter now. I’m just so, so sorry.”

“Don’t think another thing about it, A-diddy. You have responsibilities, and I know that.”

A-diddy? I laughed again. Nana used to love to keep up with what she considered popular slang, but she’d stopped after Pops had died. Knowing she was finally picking up the pieces of her shattered life delighted me.

“Nana,” I said, hopping on the counter that divided living room from kitchen. “Did you know the journal you gave me is all about zombie slaying?”

Her eyes grew wide. “No. I didn’t.”

“Has anyone in your family ever... I don’t know, talked about invisible monsters no one else could see? Or been committed to a crazy house, maybe?”

“Well,” she said, peering down at her loafers. “My mother was an alcoholic, and she used to babble about creatures of the night desperate to steal her soul. My dad forbade us to discuss her condition with anyone, and as embarrassed as we were, we were more than happy to agree. Of course, when I was dating Pops, he would sneak over and...well...” She cleared her throat. “Never you mind. He witnessed one of her episodes.”

Slayers. On my mom’s side of the family. How could I not have known?

How many other slayers came from a double lineage?

“It’s one of the reasons Pops and I were so adamant about your mother staying away from your father, and oh, Ali, I should have known, should have realized, the two were connected. In my mind, Mother was a drunk, pure and simple. And then, of course, your dad started drinking, and, well, you know the rest.”

I did. She and Pops had hated my father, had never welcomed him over. I’d never blamed them, though, and still didn’t. There’d been quite a few days I’d hated my father, too.

“How did your great-grandfather die?” I asked.

“He disappeared one day. At least, that’s the story I was told when the journal was handed down to me.”

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