Through the Zombie Glass Page 22


“I can guess about the worry,” I said, and looked away from him. I was too raw, too susceptible to his concern and his mood, torn to shreds all over again. “And I’m sorry,” I repeated.


“Where were you?” he demanded a second time.


“At my old house.”


“Why did you go there?”


“I don’t know. I woke up, and there I was.”


Mr. Holland opened his mouth, but Cole cut him off.


“You don’t know?” Cole snorted, his anger far from assuaged. “How can you not know?”


What had brought about this transformation in him?


Gavin slapped him on the shoulder. “Dude. Let’s give her a minute to explain.”


Cole whipped to him, snarling, “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”


“Uh...yeah. We’d all like that.” Confused, Gavin looked to me, probably expecting me to explain Cole’s odd behavior. I couldn’t.


And then I didn’t want to. The world faded—


—Gavin was in my room, standing in front of me. I spun him and pushed him down on the bed, then climbed on top of him. I forced his head to the side, baring his neck. My tongue swiped over his skin as I tugged at his shirt, trying to pull it off his body and—


—smack!


I blinked into focus, the here and now returning just as quickly as it had vanished, only to realize Cole had just punched the partition over my head, leaving a gaping hole. Dust filled the air, making me cough. Then he pushed Gavin.


Gavin stumbled backward and scrubbed a hand down his face.


“What did you see?” Cole demanded. “Tell me, before I—”


“Get control of yourself, son.” Mr. Holland grabbed him by the arm and thrust him toward the door. “If you can’t, leave.”


Cole took only a moment to decide. He stormed out of the barn, the door slamming shut behind him. Frosty and Bronx tossed me a sympathetic glance before following him. A few seconds later, I heard the squeal of tires and the spray of gravel.


“The rest of you need to leave, as well,” Mr. Holland said. “Except you, Gavin. You stay.”


All of the slayers filed out, except for Gavin. Mackenzie threw me a puzzled glance.


I’d left her in danger last night.


“I’m sorry,” I said again, wrapping my arms around myself. Tears beaded in my eyes. “Did anyone get hurt?”


“No.” Mr. Holland stared at me, his crystalline gaze boring into me like a laser. “I’m not going to ask what you and Gavin saw in your vision. Judging from your expression, I can guess. What I want to know is what happened to you last night.”


Not too long ago, this man had found me utterly unreliable. He hadn’t wanted me here. What would he do if he learned the truth, that I was rotting from the inside out?


Soon I could very well be a hazard to everyone we loved.


“I blacked out,” I said.


“I was told the zombies wanted nothing to do with you.”


“That’s right.” I shuddered with revulsion. They must already consider me one of their own.


“I want Ankh to check you out,” Mr. Holland said.


I wouldn’t protest. “Okay.” Just what would he find? Would he discover the source of the problem? He hadn’t yet.


“And I want you off rotation until this is figured out.”


A denial rose immediately. One I quickly swallowed. I’d almost hurt Mackenzie and Gavin. I’d left my team to engage in battle without me. I deserved this, and worse.


I looked down, ashamed, and nodded.


Mr. Holland faced Gavin. “Drive her home.” Then, having said his piece and issued his orders, he stomped out the door.


As soon we were trapped in his car, alone, Gavin said, “Why do we keep having the same vision?”


“I don’t know. With Cole, we usually only had the same vision a few times before a new one took its place.”


“Maybe this one is important.”


I knew he didn’t mean that in a conceited way. His tone was too confused. “Maybe we’re not getting whatever it wants us to get.”


“So the visions are alive? Sentient?”


“No,” I said with a shake of my head. “But our minds are at work here, and they know what we get and what we don’t.”


He tapped his fingers against the steering wheel. “Let’s forget the vision for a minute. You remember grabbing your ears during the fight, as if you were hearing something you shouldn’t?”


I squirmed in my seat. I’d either heard Zombie Ali—Z.A., I thought, because I hated pairing my name with that description—or the other zombies. Both options sickened me.


“Yeah.” He turned the key, gunned the engine. “You remember. What’d you hear?”


“I’m not going to talk about it.”


“Fine. Whatever. Just know I won’t rat you out. You’re a good girl, I can tell, and I’m sure you’ve got your reasons for keeping quiet about such an interesting development.”


An unlikely ally. I desperately needed one. “Thank you.”


He shrugged, and merged into traffic. “I guess I owe you.”


“What do you mean?”


“After the way you were going at me, acting like you were on life support and my body had the oxygen you so desperately needed, I—”


Suddenly feeling a little more like my old self, I reached over and smacked him in the chest. “Shut up.”


He grinned, his entire face lighting with amusement. “We have another vision like that, and Cole might just kill me in my sleep.”


“Highly doubtful. I think he was just upset that I stayed out all night, making everyone worry.”


His snort echoed through the cab. “Yeah, that’s why he spent hours looking for you.”


He had? Not for my benefit, surely, but for the team’s. “Plus—and please hear me when I say this—I’ve been serious every time I’ve told you I have no interest in you.”


His grin only widened. “You realize you’re just making yourself more attractive to me, right? First, do you really not understand how beautiful you are? Even to a guy like me. And second, there’s never been a female I couldn’t win over.”


Me? Beautiful? “Maybe you’ve gotten the women you’ve wanted in the past, but there’s always a first time for failure.”


He clutched at his heart, as if in pain.


I rolled my eyes. “Don’t pretend you like a challenge. I had you pegged at moment one, remember?”


His laughter proved to be infectious, and I reveled in the burst of hilarity with every fiber of my being. I wasn’t sure I’d have many more opportunities.


“A guy can change, you know.”


Change.


“Yeah. A guy can. So can a girl.” I cast my attention to the hills outside and ignored him for the rest of the drive.


* * *


Gavin followed me inside the mansion, citing, “I was told to see you home safely, and I’d be remiss in my duties if I failed to walk you to your bedroom door. Who knows? Maybe you’ll even try to kiss me goodbye.”


“Stay away from my bedroom, you dirty he-slut.”


He grabbed my hand and twirled me, as if we were dance partners. “I’m liking you more with every second that passes, Als. Maybe there’s some truth to the visions, after all. Seriously. Think about it.”


“Will you shut up about the you-knows? This isn’t a conversation safe zone.” I stalked to the staircase and found a note taped to the banister.


My office, Miss Bell. Now.


Guess I wouldn’t be reading the journal right away. I balled up the paper and threw it at Gavin. “You’re dismissed. Apparently I already have a date.” Mr. Holland must have called Mr. Ankh, and his other personality, Dr. Blood and Guts, must have jumped into action.


“Dismissed,” he said. “That’s another first.”


“You’re welcome.” I switched directions and trudged inside Mr. Ankh’s office.


“Shut the door,” he commanded from the desk.


I obeyed without protest or comment.


“Take a seat.”


Again, I obeyed, my nerves razed more with every second that passed.


He walked around the desk to claim the seat across from mine, then opened a black bag filled with needles, tubes, cotton balls and a ton of other paraphernalia I was sure I didn’t want to know about. There was another black bag in the far corner of the room, filled with vials of the antidote. He kept it there for emergencies.


“Try not to scream,” he muttered, reaching for the tourniquet.


“Sure. You try not to poke something you shouldn’t.”


“I’m a doctor. I know what I’m doing.”


“You’re a surgeon. You know how to cut and sew.”


He pursed his lips the same way Reeve did. “After a thousand years of medical school, as my daughter says, I think I can do a little more than cut and sew.”


He set the needle in place and pushed, and my vein rolled. My entire arm felt the sting, and I hissed in a breath.


“Sorry,” he muttered, trying again. And wouldn’t you know it, he missed a second time.


I could only bite my tongue and content myself with glaring at the top of his head.


“Sorry,” he muttered. Finally he succeeded.


A few minutes later, he was labeling the packed tubes. “I’ll have the results tomorrow.”


What would he find? I rubbed my hand over the second heartbeat and forced myself to breathe. “Thanks.”


My stomach growled, embarrassing me. I snuck into the kitchen and searched for my bagels. They weren’t where I’d left them, and they weren’t in the pantry. Someone must have eaten them. I gazed longingly at the boxed desserts and even the jars of vegetables, but still backed out without touching anything I shouldn’t and made my way to Nana’s room. I’d never thanked her for the journal. I knocked, waited.

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