I could feel the utter emptiness of my stomach, could feel the pangs sharpening into little razor blades. My gaze locked on Cole’s pulse. How it glowed and thumped, speaking to me. Taste. Me. Taste. Me.
Yes, I thought. I lifted my head, nuzzled my nose against the line of his neck. He was warm, and I was cold. Colder than I’d ever been, surely.
“What are you doing, Ali?” he demanded.
I bared my teeth, with every intension of biting him. Gonna be so good.
His strong fingers captured my jaw, keeping my mouth closed. “You don’t want to do this. You’re better than this.”
Better? I wasn’t better. I was hungry, and he was preventing me from eating. I wanted to eat! With a growl, I jerked from his grip.
“Ali. You once promised me you would never do this again. Do you remember?”
I stilled. I’d promised him all right, and I hated to lie.
Deep breath in. Out. Mind clearing.
“You can control this. You could control her.”
Her. Z.A.
Remembering who—and what—she was gave me the wake-up call I’d needed.
Fight her.
This was a test of wills. Hers and mine. We were separate, and it was time to prove it. I was stronger. I had to be stronger.
“Good girl.” He brushed his fingertips over my brow, and I felt a stream of warmth, a total evaporation of the hunger.
How did he do that?
Dark. Light.
The words struck me again.
Suddenly Cole went rigid. “Ow!” he spat, and released a tide of dark curses. I heard the rustle of clothing, the snap of metal hitting bone.
I struggled to sit up, only to realize Cole had left his body on top of me while his spirit slashed at the zombie determined to end him. One of his daggers lodged into the creature’s collarbone, and Cole spun, slicing his opponent across the throat with the other.
As the zombie fell, its head detached from its body. Cole held out his hand, flames crackling over his fingers. He flattened his palm against the creature’s chest. One second passed, two, three, I don’t know how many more, I lost count, and the flames began to spread up and down, until they covered every inch of the zombie.
Boom.
The body exploded and ash rained through the air.
Cole did the same thing to the head, pressing the zombie face-first into the ground to hide the teeth. The creature was still alive, still trying to chomp on him.
Boom.
More ash sprayed.
He straightened, wavering on his feet. The fire had died from his hand. His knees buckled, and he hit the ground. I rallied my strength and bucked the weight of his body off me, then crawled to his spirit. He had no injuries—wait. His pants were ripped at the ankle. I twisted and saw the teeth marks in his flesh, as well as the black goo the zombies always left behind.
I whimpered. He’d been bitten because he’d been distracted. By me.
“I’m so sorry,” I said. I’d said those words a lot lately.
“Antidote,” he rasped.
Yes, of course. I crawled back to his body, found the syringe in his back pocket and returned to him. Only the needle and my hand ghosted right through him. Why—because he was in spirit form, and I was in natural.
I tried to force my spirit out of my body, but the hard hands from before held on to me, keeping me inside. Dang it!
In the back of my mind, I thought I heard gleeful giggles.
Z.A. was laughing at me.
Maybe I could start a new to-do list. A small one, with only one task. HURT HER.
Scanning the area, I took note of the other slayers. Gavin slashed at two zombies at once. Veronica came in from behind and hobbled the zombies at the ankles. Frosty swooped in and pressed his glowing palm against the zombie’s chest, just as Cole had done. Bronx fought every creature trying to reach the stationary Frosty.
I couldn’t distract them. This was up to me, and there was only one solution. Back to Cole’s body I went. I slid my hands under his shoulders and dragged him, one inch at a time, toward his now writhing spirit. He was so heavy, I stumbled with every step. Eventually I managed to drag him close enough to stretch out his arm and connect natural fingers with spiritual fingers, joining the two together.