One Wild, Crazy, Zombie Night, Page 2Jessica Sorensen
When his tongue parts my lips, all rational thoughts going flying away to the full moon.
He groans as his tongue tangles with mine, his hand still gripping the doorknob. “I’m not lying,” he whispers against my lips. “You can feel that I’m not, right?”
I bob my head up and down, realizing what he’s doing—using our shared magic as a truth detector.
“I’m not as big a manwhore as you think,” he promises, kissing me once, twice, three times. “I just wanted you to think I was.”
“Why?” I asked dazedly with my eyes shut.
“Because it kept me from going after what I want.”
“Oh.” I’m probably going to sound like an idiot for not knowing, but since I can’t figure it out, I have to ask, “What do you want?”
He sighs, his breath dusting my lips. “Oh, Eva, if only you could see yourself like everyone else does.”
“I do,” I tell him. “Trust me; I know what I am better than anyone else does.”
“No, you don’t.” And then he kisses me again.
And kisses me.
And kisses me …
Holy melting pots, why do his kisses have to be so wonderful?
Even when zombie Ryleigh keeps banging on the door, his kisses make me feel dazedly content. Deep down, though, I know it’s probably the worst time ever to be making out in the closet with the guy I’ve had a crush on forever, especially since he doesn’t know I’m more than likely seducing him with my sex goddess powers. I should stop the kiss.
I need to stop this!
But my lips have a mind of their own and continue moving against his. My legs are dirty little traitors, too, looping around Hunter’s waist.
Letting out a groan, he holds me up with one hand while his other hand remains on the doorknob. Then he starts grinding against me, causing a wonderful sensation to flutter inside my tummy. A sensation that has me craving more and to the point of tearing his shirt off to get it.
That thought snaps me out of my trance.
I jerk back, panting for air, and sputter the truth before I chicken out. “I have succubus blood in me, and that’s why you want to kiss me!” Which just may be the weirdest words ever to end a kiss.
Yep. I’m a freak.
Oh, my God, I’m starving! I’m starving! I’m starving! The same words chant through my brain like a damn broken record. I can’t get the music to turn off, though. A stupid, mind controlling rhythm in my rotting brain.
Brains, brains, brains …
Wait, is that a squirrel outside?
I quickly dropkick the thought out of my head. No squirrels. I need human brains. No, not human. Witches’ brains.
Witches’ brains, witches’ brains. Yum, yum, yum. At least, that’s what the person who changed me into a zombie said.
“Eat only witches’ brains,” someone whispered in my ear repeatedly. “Evalee’s brains to be exact. Her brains are the only brains you want.”
A bright light shone in my eyes and cool metal pressed against my cold, dead skin. I couldn’t see their face, but I could feel them looming over me. Then sharp pains had stung against my arm, like dull teeth cutting into my skin. I had whimpered out in pain while the person continuously whispered that I need to eat Evalee’s brain.
Evalee? My little sister? But why?
“What are you doing to me?” I groaned out as agonizing, hot pain seared through my veins.
Warm breath dusted my ear. “I’m making you a monster.”
“Who …? Who are you?”
“Your master. And the person who’s going to put an end to the hybrid who will allow the demons to destroy our town. All I need is the help of my monster.”
I blink back to reality and stop running into the closet door where Hunter and Evalee are trapped. Then my gaze drops to my arm. The teeth marks are visible on my skin and crusted over with blood. Veins map my arms and hands, and my fingernails are black-ish blue, like I suddenly decided to go Goth, something I would never do. Well, not when I was alive.
When I was alive, I liked sparkly, pretty things. I loved my long, blonde hair. I spent hours perfecting new makeup spells. And a spa day was the best day ever.
I turn toward the mirror and let out a gasp. Well, I try to gasp, but the noise that leaves my lips sounds more like a dying cat.
“No, this can’t be me.” I blink at my reflection several times, yet no matter what I do, the hideous creature staring back at me doesn’t change.
My eyes burn, and I want to cry. Instead of tears, my eyes leak blood.
My already dead, still heart withers to ashes.
I really am a monster.
Just as the thought occurs to me, a card flutters through the air.
I bend over to pick it up and curse myself as I knock my head against the floor. Then, of course, my rotting fingers can’t grasp ahold of the card.
Damn zombie klutziness. How people think that one day these creatures will take over the world is beyond me.
After several failed attempts, I finally lie down on the floor, flip the card over with my teeth, and read the words printed on the back.
Hello, my little zombie.
I’m sure you’re quite hungry right now, and I know you’ve been trying to eat your sister, due to your master’s brainwashing. But let me assure you that your master is wrong. Evalee’s brains aren’t very scrumptious. In fact, they’re quite foul and full of stupid little rainbow trout, probably.
If you want to get some really delicious brains, then I suggest going to the Annual Mystic Willow Bay Freak Show, where you can get your fill of freaky brains. And, at least from what I’ve heard, those are the tastiest brains. Oh, and make sure to leave this note. I want to be positive that your sister knows where to find you. That is, if she ever wants to see you again.
Taped below the note is a ticket with an address printed on it. I’m assuming that’s where the freak show is taking place. I’ve never actually gone to the freak show before, mainly because I’ve never considered myself a freak. But now … I think I might belong there. Plus, I am very hungry for some tasty brains.
My master’s voice chants in my head, begging me to go after Evalee. But I shove the voice aside, rip the ticket off the note, and limp toward the doorway.
The voice inside my head screams louder. Do not leave! You must eat Evalee’s brains!
I don’t really know that much about zombies, but from what I’ve read in books, they carry a connection to the person or creature who turns them. Kind of like with vampires, except a zombie master carries a connection to their zombie’s brains, which is what I’m assuming is happening to me now.
I continue making my way out of the room. “Sorry,” I grumble. “But zombies aren’t known for being that obedient. And truthfully, I really don’t want to eat my sister’s brain.”
She’s not even your sister!
“I know, but that doesn’t mean I don’t care about her. What I’d really like to know is who you are and why you want Evalee dead.”
No response, which leaves me more time to focus on other things.
Well, one thing actually.
Getting some delicious freaky brains.
I don’t dare open my eyes, fearing the horror I know has to be on Hunter’s face right now.
He hasn’t said a word since I divulged I was a succubus. What really sucks is that I still have to tell him that, at least according to Max, I also have demon feeder, demon, and witches’ blood inside me, too. So much power stirring inside of my blood—at least, that’s what Max said—yet I can’t even get a zombie to stop attacking me.
Wait a second. Come to think of it, the door has stopped smacking against my back.
I crack an eye open, but I don’t catch Hunter’s gaze as I instantly turn toward the
door. “Why has it gotten so quiet?”
He still has one hand on my thigh and one hand on the knob, leaving me pinned against him and giving me very little room.
“I’m not sure.” His warm breath tickles the back of my neck as he speaks. “Maybe she’s trying to trick us into coming out.”
“I’m pretty sure zombies aren’t that smart.” Ryleigh, if you heard that, I’m so sorry!
“Yeah, true, but they’re also not supposed to be able to casts spells, either.” He moves his hand off my thigh and to my hip. He rests his head against the side of mine, causing a magical fuck of shivers to sparkle through me. “Evalee, about what you said—”
The door swings open, sending me flying backward. I take Hunter with me as we sail out of the closet to land in a heap of tangled limbs with my butt pressing against his … well, manly stuff.
“Crap.” Hunter recovers quickly, moving me off his lap and springing to his feet. “Stay the hell …” His threat fades from his lips. “Oh, it’s just you.”
Brushing strands of hair out of my eyes, I look up to see who he’s talking to.
Peyton, our vampire roommate who isn’t part of the society, is standing there, decked out in black leather pants, a dark red lace up top, and six-inch platforms only a rock star goddess could pull off. Her long, black hair is streaked with red, and her lips are stained with blood red lipstick. At least, I hope it’s lipstick. While you might be thinking she’s rocking a total cliché vampire look, she doesn’t typically rock this style. Sure, her hair is always black and red, but normally, she’s wearing grungy jeans and T-shirts.
What’s really crazy, though, is that my bedroom is completely empty.
Great, now on top of everything else, zombie witch Ryleigh is missing.
“Where are you going dressed like that?” Hunter questions, staring at her get-up in confusion.
“I’m not going anywhere.” Reaching around him, she snags ahold of my hand and effortlessly pulls me to my feet with her super strong vampire strength. “Eva and I are.”
“No fucking way.” Hunter has ahold of me in the crack of a magical whip and steers me behind him. “She can’t leave the house.”
Peyton narrows her eyes and places her hands on her hips. “Since when are you Eva’s boss?”
“I’m not her boss.” He mirrors her glare. “There’s just some stuff going on that requires her to stay in the house. And Eva knows that. I’m not making her do anything.”
“Yeah, that’s why you have her locked up in the closet,” Peyton sneers. “You wizards are such control freaks.”
“I didn’t have her locked in the closet,” Hunter snaps. “We were hiding from a zombie.”
“Since when do wizards hide from zombies?” Peyton mocks. “I thought you were powerful and scared of nothing.”
“Stop repeating my brother’s words as if they were mine,” Hunter warns in a low tone. “I’m nothing like him. Not at all.”
I tense at the mention of Troy, Hunter’s older brother, who Peyton used to date until he broke her heart. Hunter has never been a fan of him, either, yet somehow namedropping him into their conversation always seems to cause a wizard versus vampire showdown.
“Usually you are, but right now, you look different …” She eyeballs him over. “Why’re you dressed up like you’re about to hit up the freak show? Because, FYI, it’s by invite only, and only freaks are invited.”
“This is how I always dress,” Hunter replies, annoyed. “And I’ve been invited to the freak shows before.”
Peyton rolls her heavily lined eyes. “I highly doubt that.”
“Who cares if you believe me or not?” He takes a step toward her and shoos her away. “Now, get going to your freak show. I’ve got more important stuff to worry about.” His voice lowers to a hushed whisper, and I can’t make out what he says.
“You’re missing a zombie?” Peyton questions curiously. “I thought you were just hiding from one.”
“How the hell did you hear me say that?” Hunter asks with a frown.
“She has vampire hearing,” I remind him. “She probably heard everything that’s been going on for the past hour.”
“Actually, now that you mention it, I did hear a lot of banging going on up here.” She throws Hunter a sassy smirk. “I just thought that was you screwing around with one of your skanky witches.”
“Hey,” I protest. “I take offense to that.”
“Why?” she asks. “You’re not a skank.”
“But I’m a witch.” Sort of. “And you thought I was letting Hunter mess around in my room with a skanky witch? What does that say about me?”
“You act like you wouldn’t let him,” she says with her brows lifted in insinuation. “But we both know you would. You let him get away with everything.”
“I …” I trail off, knowing she’s right. The old Evalee; the klutzy, ditzy, spasm of a witch who was in love with Hunter let him do whatever he wanted. “Well, I don’t anymore.” Then I push him aside, as if that somehow proves my point.
It really doesn’t, though, since he’s way stronger than me and barely budges.
I clear my throat. “Anyway, where did you want to take me?” I ask Peyton.
“To the freak show.” Then, with her vampire quickness, she captures my arm and yanks me away from Hunter before he can even achieve another blink. “Now, let’s find you an outfit.”
“No way.” He chases after us. “I already said she couldn’t leave the house.”
“You said, you said, you said.” She releases my arm as we stop in front of my dresser. “Tell me something, Hunter. Have you ever thought: hey, I wonder if some people don’t care what I have to say? Because if you haven’t, you probably should.” She opens the top dresser drawer and starts rummaging through my clothes. “It might change your entire outlook on life.”
“My outlook on life is fine,” he says flatly, moving up behind me. “And none of that even matters because this isn’t about me. It’s about keeping Eva safe. And to keep her safe, she needs to stay in this house.”
“Why?” Peyton asks.
“We have our reasons,” Hunter replies tightly.
“A reason that doesn’t have anything to do with your control freak issues?” Peyton questions while holding up a lacey camisole.
“Yes. I mean, no.” He huffs an aggravated breath. “I mean, I don’t have control issues.”
She rolls her eyes. “Sure, you don’t.”
He sighs exasperatedly. “Whatever. Your opinion doesn’t even matter. No matter what anyone says, I’m still not letting Eva leave this house. It’s too dangerous.”
She lets her head bobble back as she groans. “For the love of all vampires, does everything with you wizards have to be life or death?” She raises her head. “So what if Eva’s some hybrid that demons want to feast on? Who cares? You can’t just lock her away forever.”
Wait. What the shit?
“You know about that?” Hunter and I ask simultaneously. Well, I ask. Hunter kind of shouts it.
“Of course I know.” She stares at us like we’re idiots. “I have vampire hearing, and you guys are anything but discreet.”
My lips form an O. “So … you know what I am?”
“Yeah, but I still don’t get what the big deal is.” She opens up the middle drawer where I keep my pants. “So, you’re a freak of nature. Aren’t we all? Well, except for pretty boy right there. He’s about as ordinary as they come.” She pulls a disgusted face as she picks up a pair of pink jeans. “Ew, since when do you wear pink pants?”
Hunter’s lips part to say witches knows what—I’m sure something snippy that will only add more fuel to their continuous fighting—so I talk over him.
“Those aren’t mine. They’re Ryleigh’s.” I snatch the pink pants from her, toss them onto the bed, and massage my temples with my fingertips. “Peyton, while I appreciate the offer to go to the freak show, I don’t think I can go anywhere right now. Not until I find zombie
Ryl …” I bite down on my tongue.
“You mean, until you find Ryleigh the zombie?” she finishes for me. “Because, if that’s the case, I saw her head out the front door right before I came up here.”
Wait. Back up.
“Why don’t you sound more alarmed about seeing a Ryleigh zombie walk out of our house?”
She shrugs. “I just figured she needed some fresh air. Or maybe some brains … I’m not really sure if you’re allowing her to do that or not.”
I blink stupidly at her while Hunter shakes his head.
“So, let me get this straight.” He steps toward Peyton. “You see Ryleigh leaving the house, knowing she’s a zombie, and you’ve known she’s been dead for a while, and not once do you think, I wonder why Ryleigh’s a zombie and walking out the front door.”
She gives a nonchalant shrug. “I just figured the reason Eva’s been keeping Ryleigh’s body in the basement was so she could find a way to bring her back to life. And a zombie’s sort of that, so …” She shrugs again. “I figured she accomplished her mission.”
“How did you know her body was …?” I mentally smack myself. “You heard us talking about it, didn’t you?”
“A couple of times,” she admits. “And I smelled her.”
“Oh.” Well, damn, this entire time I thought I was being a sneaky, little, tiptoeing witch, when it turns out, I suck at sneakiness, too. “You don’t think I’m a weirdo for trying to bring her back?”
She gives me a really look. “Eva, I sleep upside down in the attic, have a bat for a pet, and sometimes drink blood from my own arm. I’m a walking freak show.” Her eyes light up. “Which is why I need to get my ass to the freak show where I can have one night of fun without worrying about ordinary people judging me.” Her gaze strays to Hunter.
I sigh exhaustedly, tired of the two of them fighting. “You should go, then. I wouldn’t want to ruin your freaky, fun-filled night.”
“Are you sure you don’t want to go?” she double-checks. “We could dress you up so nothing, not even a freaky demon, would be able to recognize you.”