Through the Zombie Glass - Showalter Gena - Страница 47
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“That’s enough,” Cole shouted.
I...wanted to die. Everything Veronica had said rang true. These people would have been far better off without me. Cole would have been able to fight. He wouldn’t have gotten bitten. And what about tomorrow? What would happen then? I was nothing more than a living time bomb. I never knew what I would do next—or whom I would hurt. One day, I could detonate and take out everyone around me.
“The zombies are dead. Where’s Kat?” Frosty demanded. He stood a few feet away from me, his clothes torn and splattered with black goo. Just then, his navy eyes did justice to his name—they were coated with ice.
Cole moved beside me and wrapped his arm around me in a shocking show of support. I loved his warmth and his scent and his strength and wanted nothing more than to bask in them, but I forced myself to move away from him.
He might support me in this right now, but it wouldn’t last. He’d soon regret it and wish he’d kept me at a distance.
He lifted his chin, every muscle in his body tense.
I pretended to ignore him, marching over to grab my purse and inject myself with antidote.
“Kat,” Frosty snapped.
“Ethan,” I replied. “She’s with Ethan Hamilton.”
Frosty went still, a predator who’d just spotted the tastiest of prey. “Who’s Ethan?”
“Reeve’s...friend. I know where he lives.” Bronx was just as disheveled, just as splattered, just as predatory. “Cole?”
“Go,” he said, and the two boys needed no more prompting.
Gavin stepped to my side, saying, “You need a ride, Ali?”
“I’ll take her.” Cole approached me a second time, but I backpedaled toward Gavin.
“No. He’ll take me,” I rushed out. Avoiding Gavin had been stupid. He didn’t tempt me to do things I shouldn’t. I could remain calm with him.
I wouldn’t become a menace.
Cole stopped abruptly, looking between us, his eyes narrowing. I wasn’t sure of Gavin’s reaction to this new turn of events, and I didn’t care enough to switch my attention. My gaze remained locked with Cole’s. My heart cracked.
“It’s better this way, remember?” I said softly.
“For who?”
You. “Both of us.”
He massaged the back of his neck and turned his now ice-cold focus to the others.
“I’ll see you back at the barn,” he said.
Trina nodded without looking up. Silent, Lucas flashed a thumbs-up. Veronica approached Cole, but he very gently shook her off and said, “We talked about this, Ronny.”
Her features fell.
He stalked away. Twice he glanced back at me, and the crack in my heart widened.
Could nothing in my life go right?
Chapter 18
Tweedledee and Tweedledum Dumb
“Don’t you need to get back out there?” I asked Gavin as I unlocked my front door. “There could be a flood of zombies tonight.” Even though I hadn’t noticed a rabbit cloud during the drive home. Yeah, I’d finally broken down and looked.
“It’s doubtful. You woke a nest. That’s the only reason those zombies came out when they did.”
I paused in the open doorway and faced him, my arms spread to block his path. “Well, don’t you need to be out there putting Blood Lines around the homes of the innocent?”
His lips curled at the corners. “Mr. Ankh and Mr. Holland have been taking care of that. Now, aren’t you going to invite me in?”
Sure. In...never. “I don’t want to be rude, but—”
“Good. Then don’t be rude.” He picked me up and set me aside. “I’m spending the rest of the evening with you, then crashing on your couch.”
Exasperated, I entered behind him. Did he think I’d leave and go on a killing rampage?
Like you can really blame him.
“Sorry, but we don’t have a couch.” We’d been buying one piece of furniture at a time, when we found cheap but reliable pieces, and so far had only managed to pick up two beds and a dining room table.
“Uh, are you sure about that?” He sounded amused.
“Maybe not,” I said, my tone dry. “I only live here.” I shut and locked the door before nailing him with a glare.
“Now, now. Don’t look at me like that,” he said, chucking me under the chin. “I saw the video, and I know what you’re capable of, but I also know you wanted to bite Cole that night—and this one. The look in your eyes, the way you licked your lips... I’ve seen zombies do that. But the bottom line? You didn’t do it. Before, you turned your hunger on the zombies, and today you somehow managed to snap yourself out of it. I respect the kind of strength that took.”
He was...right, I realized. Z.A. had controlled me, darkened my mind, yet I’d had the strength to fight her. Hope bloomed brighter than it had in days, as pretty as a flower opening in the sun. Maybe I wasn’t such a terrible menace after all.
“If you aren’t afraid of what I’ll do, why do you want to stay here?” I asked, waving my hand at—
A furnished and decorated living room. I frowned and bustled forward. “Nana,” I called.
“Ali, dear. You’re home.” Dusting her hands together, she snaked around the hallway corner. “Oh, no. You’re injured. What happened?”
“The usual,” I said, then motioned to the new furnishings. “How much did all of this cost?”
She fidgeted with the hem of her shirt. “Don’t you worry about that. I gave myself a budget and stuck to it.”
“Nana,” I said.
My expression must have betrayed my thoughts, because she said, “I know you want to save to buy a house of our own, but I don’t want us living like paupers while we do it.”
Okay. All right. If she wanted this stuff, then I wanted her to have it.
I hugged her tight and kissed her on the temple. “Everything looks amazing, Nana. Seriously.”
“I’m so glad you think so. Wait till you see your bedroom,” she said with a smile.
Gavin cleared his throat, and Nana peeked around me.
“Oh, I’m so sorry, Gavin. I didn’t realize you were here. It’s lovely to see you again.” Her gaze moved over him, widened. “I’m guessing you ran into the same bit of usual trouble my Ali did.”
“Yes, ma’am, I sure did.”
She gulped. “There were others with you? And everyone...survived?”
“More than. We thrived.” He shook off his coat and draped the fabric over his arm. “I don’t know about you, but I’m starving. I’d love a chance to cook you dinner to thank you for allowing me to sleep on your couch.”
Wait. The he-slut of the great South knew how to cook?
Nana’s gaze met mine for a split second, her mouth forming a small O. “You’re staying the night?”
“If it’s all right with you. I’ll behave, you have my word.”
“Are you two...”
“No,” I rushed out, at the same time Gavin said, “We’re debating it.”
I glared at him. “We’re better off as friends.”
“In that case, it’ll be nice having a man around,” Nana said, once again dusting her hands together. “I bought a bookcase I wasn’t looking forward to putting together.”
“I’ll do it,” he said. “I’m always ready for a chance to be a hero.”
She giggled like a schoolgirl—a dirty, dirty schoolgirl—and I did a double take. “You already are. The bookcase can wait until after dinner, though. I’ve got a few more things to arrange in my room.”
The moment we were alone, I anchored my hands on my hips. “Will you please stop forgetting you’re into brunettes?”
“I realized I can’t see hair color in the dark.”
Oh, wow. “However will I continue to resist such wondrous flattery?”
Smiling, he swept around me and entered the kitchen. “What can’t be manufactured is attitude, and I happen to like yours.”
I came in behind him and opened the fridge to grab something to drink. It was now fully stocked with all my favorites. Orange juice, milk, protein shakes, fruits, vegetables and even the chocolate cupcakes I liked to eat cold. I groaned.
“What?” Gavin said.
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