Chapter 5
The King Takes the Pawn
I had spent the first sixteen years of my life under the watchful eye of a man who’d seen monsters no one else could see. I’d thought him insane, and part of me had resented him for the rules he’d enforced, the trouble he’d caused.
He’d built a house to protect us, a fortress of solitude, really, with iron behind the walls and bars over the windows. My sister and I had left our prison to attend school and church, and the occasional lunch date with our grandparents, but that was it. Every other second had been spent in confinement.
Now I knew more about the invisible world around me, more than Dad had ever known, and I knew the iron and the bars wouldn’t have kept the monsters at bay. Only Blood Lines could. I knew zombies were drawn to life—the very thing they’d lost. I knew they hungered for slayers first, and average Joes second. We were tastier dishes, I guess. I knew they found fear to be an aphrodisiac and fury to be a dessert.
Emotion added spice.
As miserable as I’d been back then, I missed the life I used to lead. I missed the hours I’d spent holding my sister while she drifted to sleep. I missed the hugs my mother had so freely given. Missed the smiles she and my dad used to share. The food she used to cook. The notes she used to leave under my pillow.
I love you, Alice Rose.
Thinking about you today, darling girl.
You’re so strong and beautiful. How’d I get so lucky?
Remembering caused pain to scrape at my chest, over and over, again and again, razor-sharp claws tearing into flesh and muscle, even bone, leaving me raw and bleeding. I hurt. Oh, glory, I hurt with a hunger no one should ever have to endure. It was as if I’d never eaten. As if my body was destroying itself, cell by cell. And all the while, those two hearts pounded in my chest.
I unleashed a terrible scream.
The pain only expanded, razing my mind, pooling even in my toes. I tried to burrow my fingers past my skull, my chest, somewhere, anywhere, desperate to reach the pain and snatch it away, but I failed miserably.
My blood turned molten in my veins, burning me from the inside out. But a second later, a chill danced over my skin, causing me to shiver. Cold. My teeth chattered as I burrowed deeper under the blanket. Hot. I kicked the stupid blanket away. Cold. I pulled my arms into my chest, trying to curl into myself for warmth. Hot. I tore at my clothing.
“Ali,” called a voice I knew I should recognize. Male. Raspy with concern.
Cole, maybe. I inhaled deeply, and oh, he smelled so good. Pure and crisp and crackling with energy. The hunger overwhelmed me all over again. My mouth watered. “Feed me,” I croaked.
Gentle hands smoothed over my cheeks, offering a comforting stroke.
My nerve endings went haywire, agonizing me further. I jerked away. “No. Don’t.”
“Ali.”
Grab him. Devour him. You’ll feel so much better.
“I administered a double dose of the antidote hours ago. Why isn’t she better?”
Definitely Cole. He was here. He was with me.
“Give her another.”
“Can she take it?”
“Do we have a choice?”
A sharp sting in my neck, a cool rush through my veins, and the pain and hunger at last died. The second heartbeat slowed, softened, but didn’t disappear completely. Still, it was enough. I sagged into a boneless heap.
“Ali, I need you to wake up, okay?”
Anything for Cole. I ripped my way through the veil of darkness shrouding my conscious and pried open my eyelids. At first, I saw only a haze of white clouds.
Clouds.
Emma.
But...she wasn’t here. Where was here? I frowned.
“Good girl, that’s the way,” Cole said. “Come back to me, sweetheart.”
Sweetheart. An endearment.
He wasn’t upset with me anymore.
Blinking rapidly shooed away the haze. Cole leaned over the side of the bed, peering down at me. Black hair shagged over a forehead furrowed with a mix of worry and relief. His eyes were glassy and bloodshot, making me think he’d been denied sleep. The shadow-beard he always sported was now thicker.
“Hey there,” he said softly.
“Hey.” My voice was damaged, as if my vocal cords had been cut and only recently sewn back together. “I’m glad you’re speaking to me again.”
He frowned, and suddenly I could see the storm brewing beneath his exhaustion. “I wasn’t ever not speaking to you.”
“You were avoiding me, then.”
A stilted pause before he admitted, “Yes.”
A second later, the world around me tunneled so that only Cole existed. Elation speared me—finally we were having a vision—
—in the Ankhs’ game room, Cole stood across from me. He was smiling at something Veronica was saying. I stood in front of Gavin, my hands cupping his cheeks.
“You are a better man than I ever gave you credit for,” I told him.
“I know,” Gavin replied.
“And you’re so modest.”
He chuckled. “Are you happy with the way things turned out?”
My gaze strayed to Cole. The tension he’d worn like a second skin all these weeks had utterly vanished. “Yeah. Yeah, I am—”
—the vision vanished in a blink, right along with my elation, and Cole let his head drop into his upraised hands. He scrubbed his fingers through his already disheveled hair.
“Gavin’s a man-whore, you know. Never been with the same girl twice. And he’s never liked blondes. He won’t stay with you for long.”
There was ice in his tone, and it scared me. “I’m not interested in Gavin.” I struggled to sit up. “Cole, you have to—”
“Don’t say anything. Just...don’t.” Motions jerky, he shoved two pillows behind my back and reached over to lift a glass of water from the nightstand.
I was in my bedroom, I realized. Determined sunlight shoved its way through the curtains. The iPod Cole had given me was stationed in its dock on the desk and turned on. Soft music filled the room.
He placed the straw at my lips. “Drink.”
I obeyed, the cool liquid sliding down my throat, soothing for a moment only to churn in my belly, frothing up acid. “Thank you.”
He nodded stiffly and set the cup aside. “Let’s talk about what happened with Justin.”
Yes. Okay. A safe topic. “Has he recovered?”
“Yeah, and a lot quicker than you.”
The accusation in his voice threw me, and I glowered at him. “Hey, don’t blame me. I’m the victim here.”