Through the Zombie Glass (White Rabbit Chronicles #2)

Through the Zombie Glass (White Rabbit Chronicles #2) Page 4

Speaking of coffee... “I’ll take that.” I confiscated her mug as I eased into the seat beside her. I wouldn’t allow myself to eat or drink anything from the Ankhs, which made coffee a luxury. But I didn’t mind taking from my best friend.

“Hey!” A second later, she confiscated Reeve’s.

“Hey,” Reeve said, then confiscated Nana’s.

Musical coffees.

Nana shook her head, but I could see the gleam of amusement in her eyes.

“No need for a lecture,” I said to Kat, flattening my hand on my side. “There’ll be no more surgeries for me.”

Her features softened. “My poor, sweet Ali.”

“I don’t understand how you fell down our stairs and received such a life-threatening injury,” Reeve said. “You’re not the clumsy type, and there’s nothing sharp on the railing or the floor.”

“Of course she’s clumsy,” Kat exclaimed, covering for me as I stuttered for some type of response. “Ali could get tangled up in a cordless phone.”

I nodded and tried not to look miserable—the claim was only a lie if I failed to believe it. Maybe I was clumsy. Once, I’d stepped into Cole’s ankle trap and dangled upside down from a tree. Another time, he’d been teaching me how to work a sword and I’d nearly removed his head.

So...yeah.

“Anyway,” Kat said, quickly changing the subject, “I’m sure everyone will be pleased to know we won the football game last night.”

“Go, Tigers!” we said in unison, and burst into peals of laughter.

An alarm sounded from Reeve’s phone. “Crap!” She jumped up. “Sorry, guys, but I’ve got plans for Halloween and they actually start this morning. See ya!” She raced out of the kitchen.

Nana stood. “I’ve got to go, too. I want to lecture that girl’s father about the importance of being well informed. Oh, and, Ali, Cole called me a little while ago and told me you were in need of a costume, but that you’d be too busy training to shop. I thought he was kidding, like some kind of Halloween joke I just didn’t understand, since only yesterday he’d been so adamant about you staying in bed. But if he thinks you’re ready, you’re ready—and I won’t ask how he reached that conclusion.”

Please don’t!

And Cole had actually called Nana? “That’s sweet of you, but I don’t want us to spend money on an article of clothing I’ll only wear once. I can make something I already own work.”

Smiling, she patted my hand. “Darling, we’re not destitute. We have the insurance settlement.”

“But we are saving for a house of our own.” There were conditions for living here, and with conditions came an expiration date. I wanted Nana taken care of for the rest of her life, no surprises. In fact, I should probably find a job...though that might prove impossible, considering I would need to take time off for school and slaying.

No. There had to be a way.

“I’m getting you a costume, young lady, and that’s final. I’m looking forward to this.”

I sighed. “All right, but something from the thrift store will work just fine.”

She kissed the top of my head and followed the same path Reeve had taken. Without agreeing, I realized too late.

My phone vibrated, and I checked the screen.

Cole McHottie (as Kat had dubbed him): I can’t leave the gym 2 get U, Ali-gator, I’m sorry. But we R still on 4 2nite. I miss U

I wondered what had happened to keep him trapped at the gym.

Disappointed, I looked to Kat.

“So, where are you and Cole going?” she asked.

“Hearts, I’m sure.” It was the only nightclub the slayers frequented. “Now, about your phone calls and texts. I wasn’t ignoring you, I promise. It’s just strange, knowing you now know what I know, yet trying to buffer you from the worst of the details.”

“It’s not strange. It’s terrible! I hate knowing, but I’ve decided to girl up and finally discuss the...you-knows from now on. And just so we’re clear, girling up is far better than manning up.”

“Good. About the you-knows.” Knowledge was power, and I wanted her safe. Always.

The housekeeper bustled into the kitchen, spotted me, and asked if she could fix me something to eat. I declined, and she loaded a tray with croissants and cappuccino to take to Mr. Ankh. The fragrance of yeast and sugar mingled, filling the room and making my mouth water.

The moment she was gone, I hopped up to wipe the crumbs from the counter. Then I grabbed the bag of bagels I’d bought with my allowance and offered one to Kat.

She shook her head. “So...I’m sure you surmised from my oh so subtle texts that Frosty and I are over. Or is it Frosty and me? I always forget. Anyway, it’s for reals this time.”

“What happened?” I devoured the bagel in record time, and though I craved a second one so bad, I resisted. The longer these lasted, the fewer I would have to buy, and the less I’d have to spend.

“Last night,” she said, looking miserable, “I wasn’t feeling well—not that Frosty knew that part. I asked him to stay with me, and he refused.”

“When the you-knows are out, he has to fight. We all do, if we’re well. It’s our duty.” Our privilege.

“A night off wouldn’t have killed him,” she grumbled.

“But it might have killed his friends. They need all the backup they can get.”

She frowned at me. “Do you have to be so reasonable, tossing out such intelligent responses?”

“I’m sorry. I’ll try to do better.”

“Thank you.”

I studied her. She was such a beautiful girl. Petite, but curvy. Fragile, yet resilient. Her mom had suffered with the same kidney disease most of her too-short life. Kat was militant about keeping her declining health from Frosty and the boys, and so far she’d succeeded.

She lived for the moment. She never held back—in words or in action. She had no desire to fade from the world, but wanted to make an impact, a difference, and go out swinging. I could help her with that.

“How would you feel about learning to defend yourself against the you-knows?” I asked. My dad had trained me to fight them before I’d possessed the ability to see them, and that training had been invaluable when my circumstances changed. Maybe Kat would see the zombies one day. Maybe she wouldn’t. Either way, I could equip her to make smarter choices.

“I’d feel...great. I think.”

“That’s good enough for me. Cole has a gym, and it’s loaded with all the equipment we’ll need. I can show you how to shoot a gun and use a bow and arrow.”

She waved a hand through the air, probably trying for dismissive, but I saw the gleam of fear behind the action. “No need for that part of the training.”

“You’ve used both weapons before?”

“No, but the unaimed weapon never misses. I’d rather stick with that method.”

I rolled my eyes.

“Will Frosty be there?” She nibbled on her bottom lip as she waited for my answer.

“Maybe.”

I couldn’t tell whether that pleased her or upset her; the chewing never stopped. “Well, today’s, like, the biggest holiday of the year, so I’ll pencil you in for noon sharp tomorrow. Or maybe sometime next week would be best. Yes. Definitely next week.”

“Nope. You’ll pencil me in for now and tomorrow and next week. I’m not letting you put this off. We’re going to turn you into a rabid, frothing-at-the-mouth fighting machine. You’ll be so hard-core, you’ll be able to knock Frosty on his butt as easily as breathing.”

A scary kind of anticipation lit her features. “Okay, I’m in. But only because I know I’ll look good with biceps. True story.” She drained what remained of her coffee and slammed the mug onto the table. “Let’s go before I change my mind.”

I left my grandmother a note, telling her not to expect me back until after lunch and that I loved her. I thought about texting Cole, but quickly discarded the idea. I’d surprise him.

“You want to drive?” Kat asked as I made a beeline for the passenger side of her Mustang. “You have a permit.”

Acid burned a path up my throat. “No thanks. You’re not old enough to be my escort or whatever.”

“But you need the practice.”

“Another day,” I hedged.

“That’s what I said about training, and you shot me down.”

“Do you want to reach the gym in fifteen minutes or fifteen hours?” I asked. If I had to pick between driving and bathing in manure, I’d pick the manure. Every time. “You know how slow I go.”

“True.” She settled behind the wheel.

“Did Frosty ever take you to Cole’s gym? Not the one in his garage, but the gym several miles from his house?” The seat belt rubbed against my wound, and I shifted uncomfortably.

“Nope. According to Frosty, the high and mighty workout station for stallions—his words, not mine—is off-limits to nonslayers.”

Not any longer. I gave her the address without a qualm. The boys had brought Kat into this treacherous world of secrets, and they could deal with the consequences.

As we soared down the highway, I checked the sky for the rabbit-shaped cloud Emma used to warn me about coming zombie attacks. Today, there wasn’t one, and I breathed a sigh of relief.

Kat swerved to avoid hitting another car, and I yelped.

“Is my driving making you nervous?” she asked. “I mean, you’re supertense. Which is silly, considering the fact that I’ve only been in, like, three wrecks since you were confined to a bed, and, when you think about it, none of them were my fault. I mean, sure, I was in the wrong lane, texting, but the other drivers had plenty of time to move out of my way.”

How was she still alive? “Mad Dog, you are the best worst driver I know.”