The Queen Of Zombie Hearts

“Dude. How about that one?” My best friend, Kat Parker, pointed toward the far corner, to a table occupied by three boys about our age.

One guy was hot enough to melt a polar vortex. One wasn’t handsome in the traditional sense, but with his unusual chartreuse eyes, it hardly mattered. The third was amazingly rugged, with a fresh scrape on his cheek and scars on his knuckles.

Well, well. We had finally found a smorgasbord of different flavored man-meat.

“Perfect,” I said with a nod.

“I don’t know.” Reeve Ankh, my other friend, surveyed the boys and chewed on her bottom lip. “I’m getting danger vibes from the one on the right.”

The one on the right—Knuckle Scars. Excellent. Her dandar—danger radar—was working at optimal levels.

In our little trio, she’d always been the voice of reason. Or, as Kat would say, “the voice of shut up and live a little.”

My darling Kat meant it in the nicest way possible, of course. She simply had no filter. She always spoke her mind, always stood up for what she believed—that her way was the best way—and lived by the motto I’m On Board the Awesome Train and You Can Hop On or Get Run Over.

Was it any wonder I loved her so much?

“This is stupid, you guys.”

The grumble came from Mackenzie Love. Once my archenemy, now one of my favorite pet projects.

Most people were surprised by our sudden friendship, but I’d learned life could change in the blink of an eye.

Everything could change in the blink of an eye.

I accepted, and I rolled.

“Suck it up.” Trina Brighton, the last member of our group, kicked Mackenzie under the table. “This was your idea.”

“That’s right. You asked for our help, and we agreed to give it to you on one condition. That you do what we say, when we say.” Grinning her happy-kitten grin, Kat rubbed her hands together. While I had grown to like Mackenzie, she hadn’t. But she had softened...ish. “This is gonna be fun. For me!”

Hated to admit it, but...yeah, it was gonna be fun for me, too.

We were at Choco Loco, a chocolate bar where girls picked up treats and boys picked up girls. Not that I wanted to be picked up.

I’d been going out with the drool-worthy Cole Holland—officially...again—for a little over a month. And, okay, yeah, there was a slight problem with our relationship. In the course of that month, we’d been on...give me a second to count them—zero dates. We’d had a total of...let’s see, let’s see—zero minutes alone. And we’d kissed...oh, I don’t know—zero times.

Here are things that suck worse: _____________________.

Okay, fine. There are a few things that suck worse. Like the time I was an all-you-can-eat dinner buffet for zombies. The time I battled the worst Z-poisoning in the history of ever. And my personal favorite, the time Anima Industries locked me away, electrocuted me, starved me and studied me like a freaking zoo animal.

Considering all I’d been through, my love life should have been a sparkling diamond in a sea of coal. Or a sea of “Cole.” Har har. We had tried to get together, like, plan-everything-down-to-the-last-second tried, but each of our sneak-overs had encountered one teensy-weensy problem.

Her name: Nana.

Seriously, my grandmother had morphed into the Make-Out Police, and okay, okay, I didn’t really have to rack my brain to figure out why. One night Cole had saved me from a very painful death, and we’d decided to celebrate. Alone. He’d stolen into my bedroom, and we’d done what we always did. (I refuse to provide the down-and-dirty deets. But it was. Down and dirty. Anyway.) She’d heard us—the horror!—and had busted in.

We’d still had (most of) our clothes on, but yowza, the position she’d caught us in...

Ever since, Nana has been attached to my side. In fact, the only time she detaches is when I’m hanging with my girls, or when I’m prowling the streets, hunting zombies.

Don’t get me wrong. I love Nana to pieces. And so does Cole. When the three of us get together, we actually have fun. But I want more. I need more. I’m addicted to Cole’s hands...and his mouth...and oh, Ali-want, his nipple ring. Withdrawals stink!

“What are you waiting for, love buns?” Kat banged her hand on the table. “Did I not make it clear that you don’t get a vote in this? That the tribe has spoken? You know what you gotta do, so, do it.”

A waiter stepped up to our table before Mackenzie could respond. He set a mousse shooter in front of each of us.

“Um.” Reeve frowned. “We didn’t order these.”

“Compliments of the hounds in the corner.” A wink, and the waiter was off.

In unison, my friends and I gazed at our chocolate-addiction enablers. Hot and Chartreuse lifted their own mousse shooters in a toast. Knuckle Scars just stared.

Reminded me of Cole.

Kat stood and called, “My friend MacLovin’ will come over and thank you in person just as soon as her heartbeat settles. You totally rocked her—”

Mackenzie tugged on her arm, both returning her to her seat and silencing her. “Do you have to be so humiliating?”

As the toasters high-fived, Kat slapped Mackenzie on the shoulder. “What are you complaining about? We came here to find you a date, and now, thanks to me, it’s practically mission accomplished. I’ve set the stage, so all you have to do is walk over there and pick your favorite boy toy. You’re welcome.”

Mackenzie leaned over and bashed her forehead against the table.

“Why are you acting like such a baby?” Kat gave her another slap. “You’re, like, some kind of super ninja warrior who spends her nights catching butterflies and—”

“Good glory,” I said. “Stop calling it that.”

“Seriously.” Mackenzie stopped bashing and looked up. “You make us sound like—” she shuddered “—girls.”

Though Kat and Reeve were civilians, not slayers, they knew about the dark, secret world in operation around them. And Kat, well, she now liked to refer to slaying zombies as catching butterflies. She was sweet like that.

“I’m fine with calling it catching butterflies,” Trina said.

Kat smirked.

Mackenzie gaped at Trina.

“What?” Trina shrugged. “I’m confident in my masculinity.”

I snorted. Trina might look like she could lift a bus, but her heart was as soft as marshmallows.

“You should talk to the boys and get it over with, Mac.” Reeve ran her finger over the rim of her shooter and licked away the chocolate. “Kat looks ready to drag you over there.”

“True story,” Kat said with a nod. “Just seconds away.”

“If she does,” Reeve continued, “the last five minutes will become your happy place.”

“Fine.” A scowling Mackenzie pushed to her feet. “But I’m not going to try to charm them.”