Gena Showalter: Through the Zombie Glass

Here they were, all of the slayers in all their glory. There was enough testosterone in the air to jump-start the deadest of hearts. Most of the boys were shirtless, displaying bronzed muscles honed from more than just weights—honed from hacking at the enemy. I saw wicked scars, sexy tattoos and piercings, and even a few house-arrest anklets.

The blond and scarily beautiful Frosty pounded his fists into a poor, defenseless punching bag. The rough-and-tumble Bronx held the thing in place, his feet planted firmly on the floor. There was no force on earth that could move him, even one as violent as Frosty. Collins ran on a treadmill, and Cruz lifted weights.

And Cole, well, he was in the boxing ring with a girl I didn’t recognize.

There was an unfamiliar boy standing at the side, watching the pair. The only other females in the room were Mackenzie—Cole’s very feral ex—and Trina, a girl Kat had yet to forgive for not having a summer fling with Frosty.

Don’t ask.

Trina waved at me, and I waved back, but my attention quickly returned to Cole. He swung lightheartedly at the unknown girl, and she ducked before straightening and swinging at him. He ducked, too, and when she swung again, he caught her fist and jerked her against the hard line of his body, effectively disabling her.

She grinned up at him, all cocky assurance and feminine wiles—and she stayed right where she was, clearly happy to be there. A boy with a girlfriend should have released her and stepped back. Although Cole stiffened, the gleam in his eyes turning granite-hard, he remained just as he was, returning her grin with one of his own.

I wasn’t sure what any of that meant. I only knew I didn’t like it.

Time for Pep Talk Ali. He’s trained other girls. He’s even smiled at other girls. This isn’t romantic. This isn’t sexual.

Of course, Downer Ali wasn’t fully convinced (yes, there are many sides to me). He didn’t pick you up because he didn’t want to leave this girl’s side.

I shook my head. He was mine, my toy, and I wouldn’t share.

But what if he wanted me to share him?

No! Stupid insecurity. Cole wasn’t like that.

“Kitten,” Frosty called, sounding more than a little surprised. “How’d you find me?”

Kat lifted her chin, the picture of female pique. “Don’t flatter yourself. I’m not here for you. But just so you know, I used my phenomenal detective skills, coupled with Ali’s mediocre directions. No offense,” she said to me.

“None taken.” Mediocre was actually better than I deserved.

“Don’t be that way, baby,” he replied, unwinding the tape from his fists. “You know I would have given you a ride on the Frosty Express. You just had to ask.”

Bronx rolled his eyes. Several of the other guys groaned.

Cole’s attention arrowed in my direction. Our gazes locked, and guilt filled those violet irises.

Guilt? Why guilt? Whatever the answer, it couldn’t be good.

I will not stomp into that ring.

I will not pull the pair apart.

I will not beat them both into pulp.

He set the girl away from him. Once again I found myself waiting and hoping for a vision. I was back on my feet. Things should go back to normal. But a moment passed, then another.

Normal remained at bay.

A dash of dread joined a pinch of jealousy, a recipe for trouble.

The new guy whistled under his breath, and my attention shifted to him. Our gazes collided. A second later, the world washed away, just as I’d wanted it to do with Cole—

—we were in my bedroom, standing beside my bed. No, we were lying on my bed. I’d just pushed him down. I tilted his head with one hand and pulled at his clothes with the other. Then I licked my way down his throat. I was making strange little growling noises, as if I’d never enjoyed a taste so much and had to have more—

“—Ali!” Cole shouted.

I blinked, and the vision evaporated.

Cole appeared, his features tense. “What just happened?”

“Dude,” Frosty said to the new guy. “Your brain just checked out for a bit. I haven’t seen anything like that since Cole first met Al—and uh, yeah, never mind.”

New Guy stared at me, looking suspicious and angry.

I stumbled back a few steps. I couldn’t believe I’d just mind-cheated on Cole. Like, big-time.

“Cole asked a good question,” New Guy croaked. “What just happened?”

So he’d had the vision, too. No. No, no, no. What did that mean? That strong of a connection had never happened with anyone but Cole. Why here? Why now? Why this guy?

“I have a better question,” the new girl said with a sweet Southern drawl. “Will someone please introduce me to the newcomers?”

I had to make sure the vision never came true. It couldn’t come true. It would mean Cole and I were over. It would mean the new life I’d carved for myself had crashed and burned.

A muscle ticked in Cole’s jaw. “Veronica, meet Ali. Ali, Veronica. She’s one of the slayers from Atlanta. Ali’s friend is Kat.”

“My girl,” Frosty added, proudly thumping his chest.

“In your dreams,” Kat replied.

They launched into a heated argument.

“Veronica is another of Cole’s exes,” Mackenzie piped up.

Oh, good glory, no!

“Not just any ex,” Veronica added, offering me a grin as sweet as her voice. “I’m his favorite.”

I stiffened, waiting for Cole to say the words Actually, Ali is my favorite—and she’s not an ex . He didn’t.

“Nice to meet you,” I whispered, fighting panic.

Once I hadn’t thought there was a girl more beautiful than Mackenzie. Now I knew how wrong I’d been. Veronica was. By far. She had perfectly tanned skin, dark glossy hair that was iron-board straight and fell to her shoulders and light green eyes.

Mackenzie had dark hair, though hers was curly, and dark green eyes. Put the three of us side by side, and you wouldn’t have to ask who didn’t belong. I had wavy hair so pale it could have been classified as old-granny white, and eyes so blue they bordered on freaky.

One of Veronica’s perfect brows lifted. “So you’re the infamous Ali Bell, huh? The girl with abilities no one can explain.”

I could see the Blood Lines we poured around our homes, a mix of chemicals the zombies couldn’t bypass. My body sometimes became a living flame, ashing every zombie I touched in seconds, while other slayers could only light their hands and needed several minutes to achieve the same results. I could sometimes see into the future.

I wasn’t sure why I could do these things, or what made me different. My slaying genes were no more special than anyone else’s.

“Yes,” I said. Cole wouldn’t look at me. Why wouldn’t he look at me? “That’s me.”

Veronica’s head tilted to the side as she scrutinized me more intently. “Did you use one of those abilities on my friend?”

I stuttered for a response, but came up empty.

“So what if she did?” Kat called, always my backup. “She’s got the boss man wrapped around her little finger. She can do what she wants, to whomever she wants.”

How much did I love that girl?

Venom leaked into Veronica’s sweetness. “No one wraps Cole Holland around their finger.”

Cole left both comments alone as he hopped out of the ring. “Later, Ronny. Practice without me.”

Ronny? He had an affectionate nickname for Mackenzie, too. Kenze, he sometimes called her. I hated both.

He stalked to an open treadmill, motioned me over and pushed a few buttons. “Before you hit the ring, you need to build your stamina back up. Do not—I repeat—do not overwork yourself.”