Such a delicious buffet, unable to defend itself...

A wave of hunger hit me.

Kat ran over to push me away from the girl, but I batted at her hands and leaned down to sniff Veronica’s neck. How sweet she smelled. Not as good as Cole or even Mackenzie, but she would do. I licked my lips.

One taste wouldn’t hurt.

Muscled arms banded around me, jerking me backward. I struggled for freedom, desperate to return to the girl.

“Hey, now,” Gavin said. “I’ve always thought there’s nothing wrong with a little bloodshed between friends, but I draw the line at murder.”

“Just want to—” Bite her, I realized. I wanted to bite her.

Horror bathed me in ice, the hunger instantly forgotten.

“I’m so sorry,” I said, my entire body beginning to tremble. “I wasn’t thinking... Wasn’t myself—” Oh, heaven help me, I’d been zombie. Almost fully zombie.

Want to die.

“Calm now?” Gavin set me aside and crouched beside his friend. Gently he smoothed the blood-soaked hair from her brow. “Veronica, honey. You okay?”

I backed out of the room, too ashamed to look anyone in the eye. In fact, I kept my gaze downcast until I reached my room. I shut and locked my door and tripped my way to the vanity. I closed my eyes. My chin wobbled, tears cascading down my cheeks.

I remembered what a sad little girl I’d once been, trapped inside my home, peering out my bedroom window while other kids played in their yards. Social Services had come once. They’d questioned my parents, questioned me, maybe even considered taking Emma and me away from the only home we’d ever known. Maybe we would have been separated from each other. Maybe not. I hadn’t wanted to risk it, so I’d done something totally against my nature. I’d lied. I’d told them we were private people, that was all, and we enjoyed our family time and wouldn’t sacrifice it. I’d laughed at their concerns of abuse.

In junior high, my friends had called me Nolice. No, I can’t go out with you. No, I can’t stay the night. No, you can’t stay the night with me. One day, invitations had just stopped coming.

I’d wanted normal, give-and-take relationships more than anything. Now I had them, but I might have to walk away from them.

I was a menace. Dangerous.

Look. See who you’re becoming.

Slowly I pried my eyelids apart. The mirror—and my reflection—came into view. Revulsion made me shudder. My eyes were red. The girl peering back at me wasn’t me. Not anymore. Not in any way. She couldn’t possibly be me. The smudges had spread, grown darker, and a black spiderweb of veins stretched over her forehead.

That. Quickly.

Her cheekbones were gaunt, her hair tangled.

Tick. She reached toward me with a smudge-stained hand, and I reared backward. Trembling, I waited for her next move, part of me expecting her to mist through the glass. But she merely pressed her palm against the surface, and I calmed enough to ease back into my seat.

Tock. “It is nice to finally have the strength to speak,” she said.

Tick.

Oh. Good. Glory. I could hear her voice. My voice. But I wasn’t speaking. “I know you’re a zombie.”

Tock. She lifted one shoulder in a shrug. “You say zombie, I say better half.”

Tick. What was that? A clock? Yes, I realized. That was exactly what the strange tick-tock represented. A clock, and time was running out.

I steeled myself to ignore it.

“What do you want from me?” I demanded.

“What do you think?” she said with a grin. “I want everything.”

Everything. My body? My life? “I won’t let you win.” I have a to-do list, and failure isn’t on it. Shaking, I reached out and pressed my fingers against the coolness of the glass.

She laughed. “You won’t be able to stop me. I grow stronger every day.”

“That means strength is measurable. So, if you can grow stronger, you can be made to grow weaker.”

That wiped away her amusement. “Look how easily you gave in to my desires. Soon biting will be second nature.”

“No.” Never.

“Once your human spirit has been destroyed, I’ll have control of your body. I’ll be the first of my kind.”

Breath crystallized in my lungs. “You can’t—”

A knock sounded at the door, and a sweet, trembling voice said, “Ali. Is someone in there with you?”

Kat.

“No,” I shouted a little too loudly.

A pause. “Will you let me in, then? Please. I need to know you’re okay, and we need to talk about what just happened. I’ve never seen you act like that, not even when you were beating up those boys, and it scared me.”

“I’m okay, and I’m sorry I scared you. But we’ll talk about it later. I just... I need to be alone right now.”

I heard her sigh even through the obstruction. “You’re upset, and I want to comfort you—it’s my specialty. Just don’t hurt me, okay?”

I think she meant the words as a joke. I hoped she did. “I would never hurt you,” I said, tears beading in my eyes.

“Ali, I know that, but you have to—”

“Please, Kat. Not now.”

I waited several seconds, heard only silence. I turned back to the mirror.

My reflection was just as grotesque but no longer moved contrary to me. “Are you still there?” I whispered, watching my lips move.

My reflection offered no reply.

I bit my tongue as I injected myself with the antidote, just to be safe. Then I withdrew the business card from my desk drawer and peered down at the number. This man knew something about what I was going through. Maybe he could save me.

How sad. Right now a stranger was my best shot.

Alter list: however proves necessary, kill Z.A. ASAP.

Though I didn’t like the idea of using my cell and letting caller ID reveal my number, there was no other phone I could use. Not without alerting Mr. Ankh, and therefore Mr. Holland, and therefore Cole. I dialed before I could change my mind.

A man answered after the third ring. “Hello, Miss Bell.”

He freaked me out, his welcome too much, too soon, and with a gasp, I hung up.

Stupid, stupid, stupid. I redialed.

He answered on the second ring. “I hope you’ll actually say something this time.”

“Who are you?” I demanded.

“Your new best friend,” was the casual reply. “I am Dr. Bendari.”

I wrapped my fingers around the edge of the vanity and squeezed, trying to relieve a little of the pressure building inside me. “Enough games. You should know straight-out that I don’t trust you.”

“Believe me, I received that message loud and clear when you slashed my tire,” he replied drily.

“You’re probably wondering why I called.”

“No. I know. You’re desperate.”

Well, okay, then. We were on the same page. “How do I know you have the answers I seek?”

“Were you bitten by a slayer who’d been bitten by a zombie? Are you now seeing things? Hearing things? Experiencing unusual emotions and reactions?”

He knew. He really knew. “Yes,” I whispered. “How did you know that?”

“I have a source on the inside. I also have the answers you seek.”

“Tell me.” A command. “And who is your source? Is he one of my friends?” Who would betray me?

“The source matters little. I will tell you everything else you wish to know, but I won’t do it over the phone. You won’t believe what I tell you. Not without pictures.”

Anger infused every cell in my body. He could be lying, trying to draw me out, make me an easier target. “You want to meet,” I said flatly.

“I do. Tonight. Midnight.”

He could be playing me, could be planning to murder me. But honestly? I didn’t care. Right now death was preferable to uncertainty. If I walked into my own personal horror movie, oh, well. “All right. Where?”

“There’s an all-night Chinese buffet in Birmingham called the Wok and Roll. Come alone, and I’ll be there. Come with someone else, and I’ll leave before you can spot me. That happens, and you will never hear from me again.”

He hung up before I could agree. Or yell at him.

I paced my room for the rest of the day. Nana came to my door with lunch, then dinner, and both times I asked her to set the tray on the floor. Earlier I’d wanted to talk to her—I still did. Now just wasn’t the right time. At the moment, I couldn’t trust myself to behave.

“You’re going to tell me what’s going on, Ali,” she said through the door. Never before had she spoken so sternly with me. “The boy, Gavin, he told me you beat another girl unconscious. How could you do something like that?”

“I’m asking myself that same question,” I replied, my chin trembling.

A heavy pause. “Let me in the room. I want to look into your eyes while we talk about this.”

She would see was my horror, my remorse. My tears.

My new nature?

“I...can’t. I’m sorry.”

“Is it the upcoming holiday?” she asked, hesitant. “Are you missing your parents?”

“No.” To be honest, I hadn’t given Thanksgiving a single thought.

Another pause, this one writhing with tension.

“Ali, you’re shutting me out and it’s hurting me.”

Yes, I could hear the pain in her voice.

I stepped up to the door, reached for the knob, stopped myself. Hot tears cascaded down my cheeks. “I’m sorry,” I repeated. “I would rather die than hurt you, but if I open that door I could hurt you worse. I just... I need a day to work through this, okay?”

Several minutes passed in silence before she said, “You’ve got one day.” Footsteps resounded.

I picked up the tray, placed it inside my room, my stomach a twisted mess. I couldn’t bring myself to eat.