And had he just called me his?
See? Melting...
“Bronx is secretly into Reeve and Frosty is bat-crap crazy for Kat. They wouldn’t try anything.” And really, before Cole, no boy had ever tried anything with me. I had no idea what made me so irresistible to him.
“Don’t care,” he said, leaning forward to nuzzle my neck. “I will put my boys in the hospital if they come near you. I don’t share my toys.”
I had to swallow a snort. “If anyone else called me their toy, internal organs would spill.”
“Agreed. Like I said, you’re mine. And, Ali, I’d love to be called your anything, especially your toy. I reeeally want you to play with me.”
Okay, I did snort. Hello, mixed signals. “I’d really like you to prove that, Cole Holland.”
His response? A groan.
I sighed. There was nothing mixed about that, was there? “Back to the pimp hand you’re planning to throw around.” I had no doubt he could put people in the hospital—he had before—but his friends? Never. I opened my mouth to tell him so, only to gasp. He’d just bitten the cord of my shoulder, and the most delicious lance of pleasure had shot through me. “Cole.”
“Sorry. Couldn’t help myself. Had to do a little proving.”
“Don’t stop,” I breathed. “Not this time.”
“Ali,” he said with another groan. “You’re killing me.” He stood with me in his arms and gently laid me on the bed. He stretched out next to me but didn’t pull me into his side.
I swallowed a shriek of frustration. I wasn’t sure if he was punishing himself for what he’d done to me or if he really was afraid he would break me. All I knew was that I missed the feel and taste of him.
I rolled toward him and rested my head on his shoulder. His skin was warm and surprisingly soft as I traced a circle around the piercing in his nipple. Bad Ali.
Smart Ali. His heart kicked into a faster rhythm, delighting me.
Disappointed Ali. He remained just as he was, here but set apart from me.
“When you’re better,” he finally said.
His ability to resist me was so not flattering.
“I wouldn’t be able to forgive myself if I caused you any more harm,” he added, and I lost my ire.
His concern for me was beyond flattering.
“Look, I have to help you guys in some way, King Cole.” The moment the nickname left my lips, I knew I’d made a mistake. He’d embrace that one a little too tightly. “Doing nothing is destroying me.”
He pushed out a heavy breath. “All right. Okay. You can come to the gym tomorrow morning. We’ll see how you handle things.”
I kissed his jaw, the shadow-beard he sported tickling my lips. “I think it’s cute that you thought I was asking for permission.”
“Thank you, Cole,” he grumbled. He cupped the back of my neck, tilting my head. My gaze met his. “I just want to take care of you.”
“You will...just as long as you keep your swords to yourself.”
His eyes darkened. “That’s not funny.”
“What? Too soon? My near-death experience and your part in it aren’t something we can joke about yet?”
“Probably not ever.”
I nipped playfully at his chin. “Okay.” Taking mercy on him, I changed the subject. “Will you finally tell me what’s been going on these past few weeks?” Boss’s orders. Business wasn’t to be discussed. “As you can see, if it’s bad news, I can take it.”
“Yeah. All right,” he replied, his relief obvious. “To start, Kat and Frosty broke up again.”
I made a mental note to contact her first thing in the morning.
“Also, Justin’s sister is missing.”
Justin Silverstone used to be a slayer. Then his twin sister, Jaclyn, had convinced him to switch sides and join Anima Industries; the Hazmats, we called them. They wanted to preserve the zombies for testing and studying and planned to one day use them as weapons, uncaring about the innocent lives that were lost along the way.
“She probably ran off, afraid we’d come after her,” I said. She and her crew had helped bomb my grandparents’ home. I owed her.
Cole nodded. “Then there’s my search. We need more slayers. I know there are kids out there as confused as you used to be, unsure why they see monsters no one else can see, and they have no idea what to do about it.”
“Any possibles?”
“Not yet. But two slayers from Georgia came to help us out until we’ve rebuilt our team.”
For a while, I’d thought the zombie problem existed only in my home state of Alabama. I’d since learned differently. There were zombies all over the world. Slayers, too.
“You should have shared this info long before now. You are such a pain, Coleslaw,” I said. Better, but that nickname wasn’t the winner, either.
“I know, but I’m your pain.”
And just like that, my irritation drained away. How did he do it?
“Does Mr. Ankh know you’re here?” Since my grandfather had died and my grandparents’ house had been torched, Nana and I had moved in with Mr. Ankh and his daughter, Reeve.
Mr. Ankh—Dr. Ankh to everyone outside his circle of trust—knew about the zombies and did all the medical work on the slayers. Reeve had no idea what was going on, and we were supposed to keep her in the dark. Or else. Her father wanted her to have as normal a life as possible.
What was normal, exactly?
“I gave Ankh’s security the finger,” Cole said with a twinge of pride. “He would feel the need to tell your grandmother, and I don’t want to be kicked out and have to sneak back in. I just want to be with you.”
“So you’re planning to stay here all night and hold me, Coley Guacamole?” Ugh. I shouldn’t have gone there. That one reeked.
He barked out a laugh. “I liked King Cole better.”
“That’s not actually a surprise.”
“It just fits me so well.”
“I’m sure you think so.” I gave a gentle tug on his nipple ring.
“I doubt I’m the only one. And yes, I’m staying.” He curled his fingers over mine, pried my grip loose and brought my knuckles to his mouth for a kiss. A second later, there was a flash of panic in his eyes. One I didn’t understand and must have misread. Because he said, “Just so you know, you can call me anything you want—just as long as you always call me.”
Chapter 2
On Your Mark...Get Set...STOP!
I woke up alone, drenched in sweat and gasping for breath, another dream of the accident hovering at the back of my mind. I’d seen my mother reaching for me. Felt the unusual heat of her touch. Heard her yell at me. Then I’d watched as the zombies finished eating my dad, glided to our car and jerked her out, ready for dessert.
She’d fought against their hold, her expression panicked. She’d called my name again. “Alice! Alice!”
I’d struggled to reach her, begging the creatures not to hurt her.
Then nothing.
Now I wanted to cry.
Why