“There’s no need,” I said. The bite was already healing, the burn in my veins already cooling. “The toxin doesn’t affect me.”

“Impossible.”

“Cole,” Blondie said. “Look at the zombie.”

Cole twisted in time to watch the gray fade from the creature’s skin, the red dim from his eyes.

“I don’t understand,” Cole said.

“Hello. Anyone remember Rebecca?” Helen clapped her hands to gain our attention. “Zombies can wait.”

But—

Cole tugged me down another hallway. We stopped in front of a metal door. Ethan sprawled in front of it, motionless, practically floating in a puddle of blood.

I wasn’t sad, I realized, and that confused me all over again.

Helen waved her hand at the door. “When you stopped the pulses around the building, I went straight to Ali. When I realized her memories had been covered, I knew Rebecca had stolen her slayer abilities, and went after her. So, Cole, you’ve got another choice to make. Kill Rebecca now and end her reign of terror, but in the process, ensure that Ali will never get her abilities back. Or take Rebecca with you and cage her. When Ali remembers her past, she will be able to take her abilities back.”

Stolen abilities? Covered memories?

“The code is...” Helen rattled off too many numbers to remember.

Cole glared at her for a long while before jabbing his finger into the keypad. He extended his crossbow as the door slowly opened.

I waited, more uncertain than ever. What would we find on the other side? Rebecca, as promised? Or a trap?

Which did I prefer?

If Rebecca was in there, the slayers would win. If it was a trap, I might be able to get away.

But did I really want to get away?

A smile lifted the corners of Cole’s lips. “Hello, Rebecca.”

Chapter 32

SEVERED HEADS

OR TANGLED TALES

I paced the confines of my new room. Well, not mine, but his. Cole. This was his bedroom. He was letting me borrow it, though I knew he wanted to stay here with me. Last night, when he’d brought me here, he’d said so, about a thousand times. I’d said no. Of course.

He was still an unknown.

Could I trust him?

Before, I would have given an unequivocal no. Now? I wasn’t sure. When he wasn’t gunning people down in a hallway, he was actually kind of sweet. And charming. And witty. And so hot he made my mouth water.

He’d brought me breakfast this morning. He’d pointed out the dresser drawer holding my things, so that I would always feel welcome. He’d said he was planning our “third date,” that he wanted to take a knitting class with me, or something equally tame, because we needed less excitement in our lives.

And he was majorly concerned with my well-being. Like, obsessively so. He and Helen had argued heatedly last night. He’d demanded that she fix me. She’d said that she was trying, and it’d be nice if he would, too. He’d said he was doing everything she’d told him to do, telling me stories about my past.

It was true. He had. For hours. But his stories were so far-fetched.

Or had been. When finally I’d fallen asleep, I’d had such vivid dreams....

I’d seen everything he’d described. Me, standing in a hallway painted black and gold, catching a glimpse of him for the first time. He’d been leaning against a bank of lockers at school, goofing off with his friends. A hat had shaded his eyes, but then he’d looked up and we’d both been trapped, connected by a vision of the two of us kissing.

I shivered.

Then I’d seen us training in a boxing ring. We’d taken jabs at each other and argued good-naturedly, our hands roaming where they shouldn’t, our sweaty bodies rubbing together.

Another shiver.

I’d seen us fighting zombies together, protecting each other. The concern on his face every time I was bitten—

Yeah. Another shiver.

I couldn’t deny there was history between us. Or that my heart recognized him, even if my mind did not. I couldn’t deny that the urge to throw myself into his arms, press my lips against his and cling to him as if my life depended on it—as if he was the only raft in a storm—grew stronger every second. But Rebecca was trapped in an underground bunker behind his house... Was I just supposed to ignore that?

Even if Rebecca was a liar and the enemy, I didn’t condone violence. Did I?

The door swung open, and in stepped the woman I was supposed to call Nana. I liked her, a lot, and wasn’t annoyed that she’d just barged in, like I’d been with Rebecca. She’d been here waiting for me when Cole brought me, and I’d enjoyed her too-tight hug.

“Ali,” she said with a huge grin. “How are you, dear?”

“Well, thank you.”

She embraced me again, and I awkwardly patted her back.

Her expression was a little sad as she straightened, and I hated that I’d upset her. “I’m here to escort you to the dining room.”

Time for dinner, then. He would be there.

She hooked our arms and led me through the house. There were tons of visitors, but I didn’t see any sign of Cole. Sharp disappointment. Tendrils of dread. A houseful of slayers—why? I’d been introduced to each one already, and they seemed to like me, but that didn’t make them any less intimidating. Not that I’d ever let them know I was disconcerted.

“Hello,” I said, nodding in greeting. I frowned when I realized there was no food on the table. Slayers, but no dinner?