The Queen Of Zombie Hearts. Gena Showalter

The Queen Of Zombie Hearts - Gena Showalter


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kidnapped me, tortured me, and when they finished with me, they would have killed me in the most painful way possible. Yesterday, they did kill three of my friends.” Hot tears suddenly streaked down my cheeks. “They must be destroyed.”

      “But—”

      I cut her off with a firm “I know these people. They won’t hesitate to hurt you to get to me. So please. Please! Go with Mr. Holland. Stay safe so that I can stay focused.”

      A beat of silence...another...each crackling with tension.

      “I will go with him,” she said, surprising me. Then she added, “But only if you’ll come with us.” I heard the despair in her tone. “My husband is dead. My daughter is dead. My only other grandchild is dead. I can’t lose you, too.”

      Destroying me. “Nana. If I don’t do this, you’ll lose me anyway. I won’t be...me.” I’d been born for this. I wasn’t afraid. I was ready.

      “At least let me try to protect you.”

      From the corner of my eye, I saw Mr. Holland pull a syringe from his pocket. Going to drug her like Mr. Ankh had drugged me? Oh, man. When she woke up, she would be tee-icked.

      Worth it. I clasped her hands in mine. “I’m needed here,” I said, and she once again shook her head. “Only slayers can fight Anima and zombies. And you know we’ll be facing both.”

      He gently struck.

      Her eyes widened, and she gasped.

      “Please understand,” I whispered, “and know that I’m truly sorry.”

      “Ali...together...” Her lids closed, her head slumping forward. Her knees buckled.

      Mr. Holland caught her before she hit the ground and cradled her against his chest.

      “Stay with her,” I commanded, shoving a new wave of guilt in that mental box. “Take care of her. Guard her with your life.”

      “I will.” His eyes were diamond-hard, cold and almost cruel. “I don’t want to go. I would be of help here. But I can’t fight the zombies. Plus, I’m out of practice, and you’re not, and I know Cole. I know he’d want your grandmother safe at any cost. Besides, I can work from the sidelines and text you anything I learn.”

      “I won’t let anything happen to your son,” I replied softly.

      He nodded, satisfied. “I’m not going to tell you where we’re going. It’ll be better if you don’t know.”

      “Agreed.”

      “This morning, I bought ten burner phones and gave them to Cole. He has my new number, and I have his. If anything happens, you call me.”

      “You have my word.” I placed a soft kiss on Nana’s cheek and smoothed the hair from her brow. “Tell her I’ll call her at least once a day.”

      He turned and stalked out of sight.

      I missed her already.

      I strode to the back room and unlocked the girls. The door was open only a crack when they bum-rushed me, pushing their way out. I stumbled backward as their gazes found me.

      Reeve had been ready to fight, her hands balled into fists. Now she breathed a sigh of relief. “Ali. You’re all right.”

      Kat had been ready to fight, as well, her eyes narrowed, her teeth bared in a fierce scowl. Her cheeks were paler than they’d been last night, the stress of the situation hell on her malformed kidneys.

      “Ali!” she cried.

      Before I could blink, the two were on me, hugging me, kissing my cheeks, crying on my shoulders.

      “I’m so freaking scared,” Kat admitted. “This situation is so not cake. Mr. Ankh told us slayers were attacked last night, that Lucas and Trina... They were—” She gulped, unable to finish the sentence.

      “I know,” I said, somehow speaking past my own trembling. I brought her hand to my cheek, needing to feel her skin against mine. She was here, and she was okay. “Cruz was... He was... He’s gone, too.”

      Both girls tensed, and I knew they were wondering how many others had been taken from us...and how much loss we were going to suffer before this war ended.

      “Have you seen Bronx?” Reeve asked.

      “No. I’m sorry,” I replied, and her shoulders drooped. Then I gave her the comforting words Cole had given me. “He’s tough. He’s smart, and he’s been through hell and back and survived. This? This is nothing.”

      “What about Frosty?” Kat said, shaking me. Her emotions were too much for her small figure to contain.

      “I haven’t seen him, either,” I admitted. But if I knew the boys, and I did, they were frantic for news about their girls. They wouldn’t have gone far. “Don’t worry. We’ll find them.”

      “Together,” she insisted. “Don’t try to send me home. I won’t go. I won’t! I’ve already called my dad, told him I’m spending the next few weeks with Reeve. Maybe even longer.”

      Something wonderful about her father: he let her do anything she wanted.

      “If you guys are in danger,” she continued, “I’m in danger, and I don’t want my dad caught up in it. Besides, if I stay, I can cancel my dialysis at the hospital and Mr. Ankh can do it here.”

      I held up my hands, a gesture of acceptance. “I agree with you. Now let’s put on our big-girl panties and go convince Mr. Always Right that he’s seriously wrong.”

      IMPOSSIBLE?

      ONLY IMPOSSIBLE-ISH!

      Reeve drove a golf cart through the dark, damp tunnel, all the way to the basement of her mansion. A place we’d often referred to as “the dungeon.” I expected Cole to be there, lying atop one of the many gurneys, feasting on egg whites and turkey bacon—that was healthy, right?—but he wasn’t. I ignored my twinge of disappointment.

      A fingerprint ID allowed Reeve through another door and into the house itself. On our feet now, Kat and I followed her up a flight of creaky stairs we’d traversed too many times to count. Usually, at the top, all vestiges of dungeon vanished, replaced by the luxuries of massive wealth. Rich mahogany-trimmed walls. Plush carpets probably woven by enchanted fairies. Glossy antique furniture. Not today. Graffiti decorated the walls in a collage of every color imaginable.

      Somewhere, a rainbow was weeping.

      There were rips and holes in the carpets, and several pieces of the furniture were in pieces.

      Had Anima trashed the place to give credence to the supposed gang war?

      Yeah. Probably. Just one more crime to add to their ever-growing list.

      Reeve pressed a button on the intercom. “Daddy. Where are you?” she asked, an edge to her tone.

      “My office, princess,” he returned, his voice weary. “Ali, Cole’s in your bedroom and he’s been asking for you. I suggest you visit him before I’m forced to restrain him.”

      I gave Kat and Reeve a hug and said, “Don’t tell Mr. Ankh what we’re planning. I’ll lead the conversation after I’ve seen Cole.” I pulled away.

      I think they nodded. I was moving down the hall already, too quickly to keep track.

      I flew up another flight of stairs, darted down a hallway, snaked a corner and raced into the bedroom. Instant surge of relief. The other piece of my soul was propped against the bed’s headboard, embraced by fluffy white pillows. His skin had a healthy tint, and the violet eyes I so adored were no longer glazed with pain, but bright and alert. His left arm was in a sling and his right had IV tubing running through his vein. His


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