Gena Showalter: Through the Zombie Glass

“One more week of rest,” he said, his jaw clenched as if he’d had to force the words to leave his mouth. “Doctor’s orders.”

I shook my head. “I’ll ask Bronx and Frosty to train me.”

His eyes narrowed to tiny slits. “They’ll say no. I’ll make sure of it.”

“At first, maybe.” Definitely. Everyone always followed Cole’s rules. Even other alpha males recognized a bigger, badder predator. “However, I have a secret weapon.”

He arched a brow. “And what’s that?”

“Sure you want to know?” I asked, rubbing my knees along his hips.

“Yes. Tell me.” His tone had gone low, gruff.

My knees slid higher, higher still, and he went utterly motionless, waiting to see what I would do next. I had two options. Try to seduce him into making out with me— the way he’s looking at me...I might actually succeed this time— or prove I wasn’t out for the count.

Sometimes I hated my priorities.

I planted my feet against his shoulders and pushed with all my might. He propelled backward, catching himself on his knees.

“With you? Distraction,” I purred.

Laughing, he stayed where he was and lifted my leg to place a soft kiss on my ankle. “I must be seriously disturbed, because I like when you rough me up.”

Heat spilled into my cheeks. “You make me sound like some kind of he-woman.”

He laughed again, and oh, it was a beautiful sound. Lately, he’d been so somber. “I also like when you blush.”

“Yes, well, I’ll bug Frosty and Bronx until they say yes.” Apparently my inquisitive personality was not charming to everyone. Go figure. “They’ll be so irritated by their lack of fortitude, they’ll throw me around like I’m a meat bag.”

“So? You’ll get a boo-boo I’ll have to kiss and make better. Problem, meet solution.”

I swallowed a laugh of my own and had to concentrate to adopt a stern expression. “I’ll let you kiss me better—if the boo-boo is on my butt.”

“Hmm. Kinky. This is a plan I can get behind... It’s a very nice behind.”

Tease! “Cole,” I said with a pout. “You can’t flirt with me like this and then do nothing about it.”

“Oh, I’ll do something about it.” The gruff, wanting tone was back. His gaze locked on my mouth, heating with awareness. “Once you’ve been cleared.”

So, seven more days of Cole’s china-doll treatment? Don’t whimper. “Mr. Ankh would have cleared me already if not for you and your protests.” I sat up and shifted my fingers through the silk of his hair. “I’m better now. I swear!”

“No, you’re finally on the road to better. But if you start training, that could slow your progress. Besides, you’re mine, Ali-gator, and you’re precious to me. I want you better. I need you better. And okay, yeah, I don’t like the thought of my friends putting their hands on you.”

Ali-gator? Really? I think I would have preferred something like, I don’t know, cuddlecakes. Anything was better than a comparison to an overgrown lizard, right?

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.