A Mad Zombie Party - Showalter Gena - Страница 61

—I’m in bed, curled in a ball and sobbing. I’m drowning in despair, dejection and a sense of rejection I can’t shake. I want him, I want him so bad I can barely breathe, but I’ll never be more than a passing fancy to him and—

—Milla gasps, and the vision fades.

I just saw the night we kissed. Through her eyes. I’m responsible for those tears. Me alone.

I’m gutted.

I’m ashamed.

“I’m sorry,” I croak. “I’m so sorry. I never meant to hurt you.”

Spots of heat ignite in her cheeks. Glaring, she waves my words away. “I don’t want to discuss that. The only subject on the table right now is your attitude.”

She wants to stick with business, fine. We’ll stick with business. “What you suggested in there? The toxin? It’s too dangerous.”

“Don’t pretend to care about my well-being, Frosty.”

I care. I care too damn much. “I’m not pretending. You matter to me.”

“Oh, really. I matter so much you left me seconds after your ex caught us together. I matter so much, you’ve kept your distance ever since. Sorry, but I can do without your particular brand of caring.”

I guess business is over.

She reaches for the door. “I’m going forward with my plan, with or without your approval.”

I cup her by the nape, holding her in place. I mean to tell her the terrible consequences she’ll face if she saves my sorry hide. I mean to tell her the reason I’ve stayed away from her, the reason she has to stay here and stay safe. I can’t handle even the thought of losing her. But the moment we’re skin-to-skin, heat-to-heat, nothing matters but tasting her.

I rasp, “I owed Kat a goodbye,” and smash my lips into hers.

She doesn’t open for me. Not at first. Then she moans, and our tongues find each other. I back her into the wall. Her hands tangle in my hair as I run my own down her sides, palm the back of her thighs and lift her off the floor. She wraps her legs around me and tilts her head, letting me take her mouth deeper, harder. I kiss her as if it’s the last time I’ll see her. As if it’s my last night on earth. As if she’s the only girl in existence—because she is. To me, she is.

The boy I was craved Kat. The man I am craves Milla.

The taste of her drugs me. She’s headier than a bottle of Jack, and if I’m not careful, I’m going to lose track of my surroundings, forget the war and carry her to bed, where I’ll keep her for at least a week.

I’m panting as I pull back and set her gently on her feet.

She peers up at me with passion-glazed eyes. “Are you going to run away now?”

“I’m done running. I’m right where I want to be.” I flatten my hands beside her temples, my body caging hers, I breathe her in, enjoying the heat she radiates, and lean in to nuzzle her cheek. “I’ll let you go after Love on one condition.”

From languid to stiff in a blink. “You’ll let me?”

“We need to reduce the risk to your life by pinpointing the path the helicopter took. Someone somewhere had to see something, maybe even posted about it online. Maybe satellites picked up images.”

“Chance is an expert hacker. If he can focus, he can search for both.”

“I’ll make sure he focuses.” I kiss the tip of her nose before returning to the weapons room. Chance is pacing back and forth, and I step into his path. He pauses. I punch him in the jaw, sending him reeling to the side.

When he straightens, blood trickles from his mouth. “What the hell, man?”

“Are you focused? Good.” I tell him what I told Milla. “Maybe even search for nearby buildings with helicopter pads on the roof. There can’t be very many.”

“Brilliant,” Ali says. “We should have all the equipment you’ll need, Chance.”

We make our way into the security room, where keyboards and monitors abound. As Chance works, Ali calls for Kat and Emma.

Emma arrives in a flash of light.

“Any details you can share?” Ali asks.

“Well, I’ve got bad news, good news and more bad news.” The little girl plays with the hem of her tutu. “Here’s the bad. Rebecca remains hidden from us. Here’s the good. We sued her witnesses and won, and they’re supposed to tell us Love’s location. Kat is with them now, waiting for an answer. Here’s the other bit of bad. The witnesses claim they don’t know.”

Ali scowls. “Are they lying?”

“If they are, they’ll be punished. If they’re telling the truth, they have to do everything in their power to find her.” One of Emma’s ears twitches, and she inclines her head. “I’ve got to go. I’ll return when I learn more.” A second later, she’s gone.

That’s something, at least. And by the time River returns, Chance has deduced the bird landed somewhere downtown. Everyone but Milla dons a suit, forgoing the face mask for now.

Rather than loading one of the collared zombies into a van we’ve doused with Blood Lines, Reeve hands Milla a syringe. “This is a weakened version of the toxin. Inject yourself right before you begin the search.”

The group heads to the garage. Cole takes the wheel, and Ali takes the front passenger seat. The rest of us pile into the back. The entire drive, I hold Milla on my lap, protecting her while I can.

Cole parks in a darkened alley, and Milla turns to me, gifting me with a soft smile.

“I’m going to survive this, whatever it takes.”

“Good. Because I want another kiss.”

“More than one, I hope.”

“Greedy girl.” I lightly smack her ass. “All right. You talked me into it.”

She flips me off before pushing her spirit from her body and stepping out of the van. It takes everything I’ve got to stay put when every protective instinct screams to go after her.

“Masks,” Cole says, and we anchor our face masks into place.

I move to the front of the van, crouching between the seats, watching as Milla takes her place in the headlights.

She sits against a wall. Trembling, she lifts the syringe to her arm. Deep breath in...out... She injects the toxin. Her eyes go wide, in seconds turning neon red. Pain contorts her features, but she manages to stand.

I glance at the stopwatch hanging from my neck and press Start. In ten minutes, I will inject her with the antidote whether she’s found Love or not. Nothing and no one will stop me.

She stumbles forward. One minute bleeds into two...three. Cole ensures the van remains directly behind her. The sun is in the process of rising, but it’s so early in the morning that very few people are on the streets; those who are pay no attention to Milla, and she pays no attention to them. Civilian is not what’s for dinner.

Four. Five. Six minutes.

Tension knots my stomach, ice chips crystallizing in my blood.

Seven. Eight. Nine.

I’m busting out of the van in thirty seconds flat.

“What’s she doing?” Cole pulls over and throws the van into Park.

I focus on Milla, who is clawing at the glass doors of an office building.

Ali rips off her mask. “Love has to be in there.”

Thank God. I fly out of the van and shove the needle deep into Milla’s neck. She collapses in my arms, trembles as I carry her to the vehicle. As gently as possible I place her on the floorboards while the rest of the slayers strip out of their suits and pour into the streets, armed up and ready to go.

Milla struggles to sit up. “Did I find her?”

“We’ll know in a few minutes.” I slap a .44 in her hand. “Stay here. Make sure the van is ready to go when we come out.”

“I will.”

No argument?

I don’t want to leave her behind, not weakened like this, but this is Milla—strong and stubborn Milla—and there’s no way she’ll let anyone get the drop on her.

I shed my suit.

“Frosty?”

“Yes.”

“Stay safe.”

“You owe me kisses, remember? There’s no way I’m not coming back.” I rush toward the building and take stock. The lights are snuffed out, and there are no shifting shadows to indicate movement. My friends are nowhere in sight, either, but a hole has been cut in the glass and the alarm system has already been disabled. I duck through the hole.