A Mad Zombie Party - Showalter Gena - Страница 67

A man comes in behind her. The man who shot me. He’s sets a leather chair beside the bed. When Smith is comfortably settled, he meets my gaze and runs his tongue over his teeth.

Bastard wants another piece of me.

Suck my balls.

I blow him a kiss. He hisses, and Smith stiffens.

“Out.” Without turning to face him, she waves a hand in dismissal.

His hands fist. I’m sure he’s willing to strangle her to get to me. But she’s his paycheck. He pivots on his heel and marches from the room.

She smiles at me. “Do you wish you’d taken me up on my first offer?”

Hell, no. “You never would have kept your end of the bargain.”

“Oh, I would have. I tried to walk the straight and narrow to achieve my goals. Now it’s too late. I got nowhere fast, and I’m tired of your constant interference.”

Kat and Emma mentioned Smith’s witnesses, those hoping to save her. Obviously they failed.

She continues. “You and yours screwed up from the very beginning, you know. You stopped my day-to-day activities, but didn’t take away my funding. You hid my memories, but put me back on the streets. My people found me, helped me, and here we are, back where we started.”

“Take away funding. Thanks for the tip.”

She smooths an invisible piece of lint from her skirt. “We both know you’ll never have another chance.”

“Circumstances can change in an instant.”

“True, and soon, yours will. Your friends will die tonight. Your precious Miss Marks and her brother will be blamed. I see the headlines now. Rival gang slaughters competition.”

Yes, Milla is doing everything in her power to protect me. Yes, she took the threat to my life seriously. But she won’t repeat the sins of the past. As she walked away from me, she looked back at me with tears and hope in her eyes. In that moment, I knew. Her feelings for me run deep. She won’t hurt me by hurting my friends. Won’t hurt our friends. This time, she’s working against the enemy. I know it.

I unveil an ice-cold smile. “My friends won’t be dying tonight. They’ll be kicking your ass—again.”

Unconcerned, she stands. “They’ll need more power than they’ve got. Not that it will do them any good. I, Mr. Martin, am invincible.” Her spirit steps out of her body, two versions of her peering at me. White flames leap to life at the end of her spirit hand—and yet, the flames are tipped with red and black. “Fire spreads so easily. With the right kindling, one spark can start an inferno.”

The scent of rot intensifies, stinging the inside of my nose, and I grimace. “You’re tainted with zombie toxin. Not what you gave Milla, but something else. Something stronger.”

“I’m not tainted. I’m finally free! This particular strain of toxin is immune to any antidote.” She giggles like a deranged schoolgirl, and her expression makes her look like one, too, shocking—and horrifying—me. “No one can cure me.” She air quotes the word cure.

“You’re happy about that?” Has the toxin already rotted her brain?

“Why would I be sad? I finally have what I’ve always wanted. I will never grow old, never weaken. Never die.” She spreads her arms and twirls. “I’m immortal.”

My stomach twists. “What do you plan to do with Ali?”

“Infect her, of course.”

No. Hell, no. “She’s your greatest enemy. Why not kill her?”

“Every hero needs a villain to fight. Forever and ever and ever.” She giggles again—only to stop abruptly. She closes her hand, and the flames die. Her features smooth out. “Ali doesn’t know it, but she possesses the ability to create slayers.”

“You’re lying.” We would have known, suspected at the very least...right?

“All she has to do to light a fire in civilians is spark their faith—faith comes by hearing her story—then introduce her fire in small increments.”

“Receptive civilian candidates,” I echo.

“Like your girlfriend. What was her name? Kate...no, Kat. Kathryn Parker. If your little army had practiced on others, learned what to do—”

“You mean experimented. Learned what not to do.”

“—she could have lived through the explosion, gunshots and zombie bites.”

Rage blends with regret and vibrates in my bones. Maybe Smith is right. Maybe she’s lying. But...what if?

Yeah. What if.

Dangerous words. They have the power to totally incapacitate me. I fight them. Now is not the time to cave to emotion.

Milla was right. Like circumstances, emotions can change in a blink. Why allow mine to pull my strings?

“It wasn’t bombs, bullets or toxin that killed Kat,” I say. “It was you. The orders you gave your men. But you’ll come to regret it.”

“You want me to regret. The thought of it makes you feel better.” She returns to her body, and for a moment, her human eyes flash red.

Hell. She’s not immortal. She’s a living zombie.

“You will,” I say. “Before, Kat could do nothing to fight you. Now she’s a witness, and she has abilities she never had before. We need power, you said. Well, we’ve got it.”

Paling, she walks around the gurney, her finger tracing over the rail. “I can’t be killed.”

“Rot is death sneaking up on you. And you, Smith, are rotting.”

“I know what you’re doing. Trying to undermine my confidence. Make me doubt myself—lose my faith. Too bad. I’m a god among men.” She rips the bandage from my shoulder and presses her thumb against the stitches. “Now, let’s get to the reason for my visit, shall we?”

Pain is a bitch, and I hiss in a breath.

“How did you retrieve Mackenzie Love?”

Sweat beads on my upper lip. “We followed the yellow brick road.”

“How?”

“A little birdie told us.”

She applies more pressure. Breathe. Just breathe.

Her phone rings, and glee returns to her features. “Goodie! News!” She releases me to place the device at her ear. “Is it done?” A pause, a toothy smile. “Wonderful. Bring them.”

With a laugh, she focuses on me. “Miss Marks is such a darling girl. She came through for me. But then, I knew she would.”

I brace myself. “What are you saying?”

“Was I not clear? Well, let’s remedy that. Your friends are dead. Killed. Murdered. My men have Miss Marks, Miss Bell and Tiffany in custody, and they’re en route now. Soon your only worth will be ensuring that Miss Marks cooperates as she answers my questions.”

Outrage seeps from every cell in my body. Smith is wrong; I know she’s wrong. I know Milla found a way to save our friends. I know...but I’m scared out of my ever-loving mind. Milla could have tried to warn Cole, and he could have ignored her, refusing to trust her.

What if they are dead?

I erupt, spitting and cursing. Laughing, Rebecca skips from the room.

With a roar, I slam my thumbs into the mattress. The bones shatter instantly. I lose the ability to breathe. Dizziness swims laps in my head while nausea stomps around in my stomach. But I don’t care. I slide my hands through the cuffs at last and collapse against my pillows.

I’m not sure how much times passes before the door opens. Even though I want to leap up, I remain on the bed. Timing is everything.

My heart lurches as two guards escort Milla inside. Her gaze is glued to the floor. She’s pale and trembling, and there’s a streak of blood on her cheek.

She’s shoved into Rebecca’s chair, her hands cuffed behind her.

The guards leave in a hurry. A commotion somewhere else?

“What happened?” I demand in a whisper. Tell me everyone survived. Please.

“Two minutes, thirty-two seconds,” she whispers back.

Two minutes, thirty-two seconds...until the cavalry arrives? Hope is like an injection of pure adrenaline. “Where’s Ali?”

Though her lips move, Milla remains quiet and I comprehend she’s counting backward. Two minutes, twenty-six seconds. Two minutes, twenty-five seconds.