The Queen Of Zombie Hearts. Gena Showalter
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His response took a while, but it did come. Ankh says he’ll B ready.
I also texted Kat and Reeve to let them know their men were on the way and good to go. Close to thirty replies came in.
The highlights?
Kat: Cake! CRAZMAZING! Knew U could do it, Ali me girl!
Kat: WAIT. I know U said he’s good 2 go, but does he still have all his parts? I need 2 know if I can knee his man junk. HE MADE ME WORRY ABOUT HIS WELL-BEING!
Reeve: Is Bronx speaking, or has he gone silent? Tell me! Please! I have 2 know which side of him I’ll B dealing w/ so I’ll know which Reeve 2 let greet him—the lover or the he-woman street fighter (yes, I fight. Sue me!).
Kat: Would now B a horrible time 2 break up w/him? Who cares! I’m gonna do it. Causing a girlfriend untold worry is a crime punishable by death!
Kat: BTW how many people did he have 2 kill 2 survive? & is that why U left me behind (& almost earned an alley kat experience U would never 4get)? B honest. U didn’t want me 2 C the bodies, did U?
Reeve: WHY AREN’T U HERE??? I’ll street fight YOU if U don’t hurry.
Kat: Is it bad that I’m turned on right now?
When we got there, it was no surprise to see Mr. Ankh, Reeve and Kat waiting on the front porch. Kat should have been flushed, considering her excitement, but she was still pale. I didn’t like that. And where was Cole?
Unfortunately, the couples weren’t given a chance to hug and kiss—and whatever else. Mr. Ankh began barking orders the moment the car doors opened, demanding Frosty carry Mackenzie to the room next to Gavin’s and that Bronx clear the way. The girls could only walk next to their boys, talking a mile a minute.
“—get a reward for surviving,” Kat was saying. “You can start by taking off all your clothes and—”
“I don’t need to hear this, Miss Parker,” Mr. Ankh snapped.
“—showering,” she finished. “Alone. Of course. I like my men clean.”
“How’s Gavin doing?” I asked, trailing behind.
“Far better than I anticipated.” Mr. Ankh stopped, forcing me to do the same. He glanced over his shoulder. “He’ll survive.”
Relief poured through me, sweet and welcome.
“Two boys. Two wounds. Two miracle recoveries. Any clue how that’s happening?” he asked, catching me off guard.
“Slayer fire,” I admitted.
His eyes glazed for a moment, his medical mind probably assessing the pros and cons. Then he leaped forward to catch up with Frosty and Bronx. I took a step, intending to follow, but Kat came flying out the door. She propelled into me, wrapping her arms around me. Her grip was weaker than usual.
“Thank you, Ali. Thank you, thank you, thank you.”
I hugged her back, tears burning my eyes. “I’m so, so sorry, Mad Dog. I know I apologized over text and you said all was forgiven, but I had to say it in person. I couldn’t take the chance that we’d find him and he’d be injured, and you’d freak, and I’d have to try and cart both of you—”
“I know. Cole explained on the way home.” She pulled back and gave me a watery smile. “Besides, you brought him back, and that’s all that matters.”
With that, she was gone, chasing after her man.
“Have Mr. Ankh check you out,” I called, trudging forward. Prickles on the back of my neck stopped me. Something was going on around me, and my spirit sensed it. My mind just hadn’t caught up yet.
Trying to act nonchalant, I spun slowly, eyeing the grounds. Big, thick bushes circled the edge of the property, hiding the residents from prying eyes. There was no—
There! A fall of wheat-colored hair surrounded a pale face. For a second, only a second, light blue eyes met mine, before the woman—somehow familiar, though I was certain I’d never met her—turned away from me and disappeared in the foliage.
Palming a dagger, I rushed after her. Who was she? Why was she here? To spy for Anima?
Surely not. There was no way she could have gotten past Mr. Ankh’s security. Right? So, Mr. Ankh had to know she was here. Right?
Just before I reached the spot where I’d first seen her, I ground to a halt. What if he didn’t know? What if this was some kind of ambush? I focused on the sounds around me. There was a whistle of wind. In the distance, a car’s engine purred and a dog barked. No voices. No snapping limbs. No shuffling footsteps.
Like every girl in every horror movie ever made—a specialty of mine—I did not turn back. I inched forward, quietly working my way through the branches and leaves.... I found her standing a few yards away, next to one of the tallest trees on the property. Waiting for me. Though it was freezing out, she wore a black tank top, no coat, and seemed unfazed by the cold. At least her legs were covered by camo pants and her feet with combat boots.
“Who are you?” I asked, letting her see the knife.
“Samantha,” she said, and there was so much longing radiating from her, my heart actually shuddered. “Sami.”
“Sami.” An odd throb started up in my chest. “That’s your name?”
“No. Not mine.” She offered me a sad smile, and her identity instantly crystallized. The woman from my dream. The one with the little girl.
The two were real.
Part of my family?
Surely. Those eyes...
“Who is Sami? Who are you?” I repeated more sharply.
“I have a gift for you,” she said, holding out her hand.
Accepting the gift, whatever it was, would be stupid. I didn’t know her, not really, and I certainly didn’t trust her. But that didn’t stop me from closing the distance. What can I say? Curiosity owned me.
“Make an aggressive move,” I said, “and I will gut you. I won’t think twice about it.”
Her gaze met mine—the longing and sadness so much stronger now. Breaking my heart. But there was also...pride. Why?
I found myself asking, “What’s the gift? And are you related to Phillip Bell?” My dad. Did I want her to be? “What about Miranda Bradley?”
“Time is short, and the gift is necessary.” She waved me even closer. “It will help you defeat your enemy.”
True or false?
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