Through the Zombie Glass

“Watch me as I don’t discuss that with you.” I marched to the table and sat with more of a slam than I’d intended.

“What did Justin want?” Frosty asked, looking ready to commit murder on my behalf.

“To chat about old times.”

Bronx ran his tongue over his teeth. It was his way of telling me he would be at Frosty’s side, inflicting major damage on the boy. With his spiked hair now dyed an electric blue rather than green, and the piercings in his eyebrow and lip—and, okay, the tattoo peeking from under the collar of his shirt—he didn’t have to say anything to scare the crap out of most people.

Frosty crossed his arms over his chest. “Want me to break his face?”

“That’s sweet of you to offer,” I replied, liking that I had such fierce protectors, “but if there’s going to be any face-breaking, I’m going to be the one to do it.”

“Well, if you change your mind...”

“I’ll let you know.” I picked at the lunch I’d packed—a bagel with cream cheese—and wondered where Cole had gone, what he was doing and if this day could get any worse.

* * *

What a stupid question, I told myself later that evening. Of course the day could get worse.

By five, a cold front had swept into Birmingham, and by eight I felt like a Popsicle despite my winter wear. I huddled on the stadium bleachers between Kat and Reeve. Neither girl seemed to notice the frigid temperatures. They were too busy bouncing up and down and celebrating. The Tigers had just scored their first touchdown of the game.

As the second quarter kicked off, Kat said, “So, get this. I’m, like, way more mad at Frosty than ever before. I may not ever forgive him.”

“Why?” I asked. She was paler than she’d been at school, and despite her excitement over the game, her eyes were a little glassy. “What’d he do?”

“Last night he kissed some skank—right in my front yard.”

“Oh, Kat. I’m so sorry.”

“That snake!” Reeve exclaimed. “He deserves to die a thousand painful deaths.”

Kat nodded, saying, “And that’s not even the worst part. He put her on the back of his unicorn and rode off into the rainbow. He’s never taken me to a rainbow.”

Wait. “What are you talking about?”

“My dream last night,” she said easily, then sipped her hot chocolate.

“Your dream.” Reeve shook her head. “You’re more mad at him than ever because of a dream?”

“Hey! I always behave myself in dreams,” she said. “He should, too. And if he can’t, he needs to apologize with more than my favorite flowers.”

“He actually brought you flowers?” Stunned, I blinked at her. “For what he did in a dream?”

“Well, yeah. Wouldn’t you?”

At the moment, I couldn’t get Cole to say more than seven words to me. In real life.

Gavin suddenly plopped into the seat in front of me and though he grinned at me, he didn’t look me in the eye.

Was this a nightmare?

A pretty brunette eased beside him, and she wasn’t one of the girls from the club. She wrapped a possessive arm around his shoulders. A clear warning to me and my friends.

He had a girlfriend.

He frowned at the girl, removed her arm. O-kay. Maybe not a girlfriend.

“Ali Bell,” he said with a nod of greeting. “It’s good to see you again.”

He hadn’t shaved since the last time I’d seen him, and golden stubble now covered his jaw. Heart pounding unsteadily, I jerked my gaze to just over his shoulder, just in case he accidentally glanced up. “Uh, hi,” I replied. “What are you doing here?”

“I came to see you.”

“Hey, I remember you,” Kat interjected. “From—” she caught herself before she admitted something she shouldn’t and finished with a limp “—somewhere.”

Reeve stiffened, as if she knew Kat was hiding something.

“You should,” Gavin said. “I’m unforgettable.”

“What a strange coincidence,” Kat replied, fluffing her hair. “I am, too. So, are you a new member of the Asher High student body?”

The maybe/maybe-not-girlfriend snorted. “Does he look like he’s in high school, kid?”

Her disdain irked.

Gavin, I’d discovered, had graduated last year. He was nineteen, not that much older than me, but he looked about thirty. The finest of lines branched from his eyes—either laugh lines, scowl lines or both. With slayers, you couldn’t be sure. Most of the guys were as mean as rattlesnakes, but they were also quite warped in the humor department.

“Hillary,” Gavin admonished.

“It’s Belinda,” the girl corrected tightly.

“Whatever. I wanted one night, you wanted two. I agreed to give you the second night if you promised to behave. You’re not behaving.”

She pressed her lips together and remained silent.

Are you kidding me?

He was casually discussing sex with a woman he’d called by the wrong name. I had no words.

“Since no one is willing to make introductions,” Reeve said to break up the tenser-by-the-second silence, “I’ll do it. I’m Reeve Ankh.”

Gavin looked her over with unabashed interest. “You the one dating Bronx?”

“Not dating, no. We’re not even on friendly terms anymore.”

I caught the bitterness in her tone. She had no idea her father had threatened to pull his support from the slayers if one of the boys made a play for her. Every day Bronx had to choose between the girl he wanted and the friends he was determined to protect.

“I’m actually seeing someone else,” Reeve admitted quietly.