A Mad Zombie Party - Showalter Gena - Страница 50
- Предыдущая
- 50/74
- Следующая
I sigh. “Kitchen?” I ask, not really expecting an answer.
“This way.” He waves me over, shocking me to the depths of my soul when he wraps an arm around my shoulders. “Thank you. For what you did last night. Without you, Love would have died.”
I stop, utterly floored. “You really care about her. Like, seriously care.”
I didn’t ask a question, but he stops, too, and gives me a nod.
“But why...?” Am I really going to do this? Put myself out there? Make myself vulnerable to a guy who hasn’t spoken to me in four months? Who has every reason to spurn me? Whom I have every reason to spurn? I might have put him in danger by working with Anima, but long before that, he hurt me by leaving me the morning after we hooked up. “Why didn’t you care about me?” Yes, I’m really going to do this. I deserve answers. “Why did you cut and run after one night?”
Remorse darkens his eyes. He presses his forehead against mine, an action I’ve missed, something he did long before hooking up with me. “I wanted it to be you. My forever. But wanting something doesn’t mean it’s right for you. And yes, I should have talked to you about it, should have opened up, but I took the puss way out and I’m sorry.”
That’s something, at least. An answer. “I guess I forgive you,” I say, remembering the way Ali forgave me. Can I do any less now? Besides, Chance wants what I want. A love to last the ages. Something powerful and unstoppable.
What Kat and Frosty had.
Frosty claims he doesn’t love her anymore. Is he just fooling himself?
Could he ever love me?
Do I want him to?
“Enough mush. Let’s get some breakfast.” Chance urges me forward. We’re about to snake the corner when Frosty’s voice snaps behind us.
“Milla.”
Chance and I turn in unison.
Frosty is scowling, but—shocker—it’s not directed at me. “Here’s your new phone.” He tosses the device at me, but his aim sucks and I have to dive to catch it. “Don’t leave the house.” He slams the bedroom door, and if there’d been portraits on the walls, they would have fallen.
O-kay.
“Well. That’s new.” Chance pulls me back into motion.
“Guys barking orders at me?” I snort and pocket the phone. “Hardly. But I think he dislikes you more than he dislikes me. What’d you do to him?”
He casts me an amused grin. “I’m surprised you can’t guess.”
“What do you mean?” What am I missing?
“Just...be careful with that one. He might have forgiven what you did, but he’ll never forget.”
A lump grows in my throat. After last night, I’m not just crushing on Frosty. I’m falling for him. Hard. I want him. All of him. The good, the bad and the ugly. I want to wake up in his arms every morning, and fall asleep with him every night. I want to fight for him and even with him, and then I want to make up with him. I want to guard his back and know he’s guarding mine. I want to laugh with him and hold on to him when I cry. I want to know, finally, I’m someone worth anything.
But I’m not dumb. Not always. I know he’ll never be able to give me those things.
The scent of bacon and eggs reaches me, and I latch on to the distraction as if my life depends on it. In the kitchen, Reeve stands at the stove, stirring a pot, while Ali sets the table. Bronx and Cole are squeezing oranges for juice; it’s such a domestic scene, I’m momentarily speechless.
I take out my new phone, snap a picture and send it to Frosty: Breakfast almost ready. Bacon, eggs, biscuits & gravy.
His reply comes a few minutes later. I’d rather have chocolate cake.
I type, Well, then I guess the theme of the day is disappointment. Take what’s here or starve.
As I’m sneaking a piece—or six—of bacon, Frosty comes down to join us. How does he feel about me? Our gazes meet, and for a moment, only a moment, the rest of the world ceases to exist—
—I’m in our bedroom...the bed...the two of us snuggled close. Desire floods me, a tidal wave I can’t contain, pulling me under, drowning me—
—but I’m back in the kitchen a moment later, my cheeks burning bright red. We just had another glimpse of the past, but this time, we experienced my longing for him. Now he knows how I feel. And that makes me wonder...
Why are his cheeks red?
“Frosty!” Ali rushes over, wincing a little with each step. She hugs him. “You’re joining us for breakfast? Is it Christmas?”
He jumps up and down and claps like he’s only five years old. “Christmas! Where’s my present?”
“Right here.” She pretends to unwrap her fist and extends her middle finger. “Do you like it?”
“Love it. But it’s too much. I can’t accept.”
She holds the finger to his nose. “I insist.”
“You are such a brat.” He bats her arm away. “I’m not sure how Cole puts up with you.”
“He realizes I’m the best thing that’s ever happened to him.” She fluffs her hair. “That’s how.”
Cole winks at her. “Took the words right out of my mouth, Ali-gator.”
When the rest of the household wakes, we hold a meeting to decide what to do about Rebecca, and what to do with Tiffany. We can’t reach an agreement about Tiffany—half of us want to keep her caged, the other half want to set her free and follow her, hoping she’ll lead us to Rebecca, while two holdouts (cough, Frosty and River, cough) just want to kill her.
In the end, we decide we need a strong defense before we can even think about playing offense. Even if it means giving Rebecca time to plan her attack. So, we spend the first week fortifying security on the house. More cameras in and out, motion sensors, trip wires on every door and window, all of which can be activated with a single press of a button. We also pour Blood Lines around Shady Elms, trapping any surviving or new zombies inside a select area. Humans can still enter and leave at will. During the day, the zombies will seek shaded areas, leaving the humans alone. At night, nothing bad will happen as long as those humans stay away.
Also, we don’t know which of the recruits we can trust, but we do know we can’t allow Rebecca to swoop in and one, kill them, two, turn them into zombies, or three, use them as bait. So, River assigns his most trusted slayers to follow and guard them and continue their training, even though they aren’t allowed back inside the house.
The next week, we practice fighting, trying to strategize around our lack of abilities, as well as deal with—and use—my thanatos. After my trial by fire, I had to admit there was no avoiding the ability. I quickly learn that keeping my emotions under control is the key to my success. When I’m angry, the energy that leaves me is sharp and cutting. When I’m frantic, the energy is choppy and shoots out in bursts. When I’m calm, the energy is less sharp, less cutting, and a constant flow.
Reeve and Weber create different serums, hoping something will spark dynamis in at least one of us. So far, no luck. How are we going to heal from battle? How are we going to defeat Rebecca?
Finding out she’s back in the game has jacked up my protective instincts to the max. I refuse to leave Frosty’s side. I even follow him into the bathroom one morning—you’re welcome, Ali. Yeah, he promptly kicks me out and slams the door in my face, but I stand guard outside. To get to him, Rebecca will have to go through me.
But while I’m more determined than ever to save him, he’s more determined than ever to ditch me. The only time he seeks me out is at night, and only because we share a room. He no longer sleeps on the bed. He makes a pallet on the floor. We don’t talk the way we did our first night here. In fact, we barely speak at all. We definitely don’t look at each other. Too afraid of having another vision, I suppose.
The times he manages to lose me—like now—are agony for me. To be honest, though, that agony is nothing compared to what I feel whenever he’s near. One glance, that’s all it takes, and I’m solely focused on him, everything else forgotten. My skin pulls tight over my bones and I go liquid inside. I lose my breath. I ache.
- Предыдущая
- 50/74
- Следующая
