How the White Trash Zombie Got Her Groove Back (White Trash Zombie 4)

He sighed. “I’m sorry,” he said still moving toward the street. “With Dr. Nikas in my care, I couldn’t risk contact with anyone.” He glanced behind him again. “Who’s here with you?”

I set my mouth stubbornly. “How do I know I can trust you?”

The sound of the door echoed off buildings again, followed by running footsteps. Brian released my arm and gave me a little shove. “Angel, run. Now!” He turned and sprinted to a building across the street, leaped up to catch the fire escape ladder, pulled up and began climbing. I didn’t waste time watching him. I saw the men pelting my way. I grabbed my grimy skirts and ran.

Kyle was leaning against the building about fifty feet away from the corner, but he pushed off and immediately scanned for threats the instant he saw me running toward him.

“We need to get out of here!” I gasped.

“Slow down,” he ordered in a low voice. “Look normal and walk.” He took my arm casually, though we continued to walk with purpose. My pulse gradually returned to a more normal pace. There were a lot of people on the sidewalk in front of the hotel, and I doubted Saberton’s goons would try and grab me in public. Plus, Kyle would totally kick their asses.

“I had to lose the shoes,” I said through a clenched-teeth smile. Not sure how normal I was able to look with a grunged-up dress and no shoes. And my makeup was probably smeared to hell and back. Oh, and the weird blotch on my face.

“What happened?”

I gave him a quick rundown of everything—warning Jane, seeing the Sabers with Brian, the incident on the sidestreet, and everything Brian told me. “I don’t know what to think about Brian,” I confessed as Kyle hailed a cab.

He made a noncommittal noise as a taxi pulled to the curb. He folded himself in after me, then told the driver, “One twenty-seventh and Lexington.” I hadn’t been in New York long, but I knew that was way the hell from where we were staying. I didn’t question it, though. Everything was so fucked up now it didn’t really make a difference. I tried to brush some of the yuck and grime off my feet, then gave up and wiped my hands on one of the few remaining clean spots on my dress. Didn’t help. I’d only succeeded in spreading the dirt around. I clenched my trembling hands together and tried not to think about how crazy I must look to the taxi driver. Then again, this was New York, so they probably saw worse several times a day.

“He let you go,” Kyle said quietly after a few blocks.

“Yeah, he did.” I exhaled. “At least Jane got away.”

“Saw her come out,” he said with a nod. “Good work.” His phone rang, but when he pulled it from his pocket he frowned. “It’s your number.”

Baffled, I yanked my purse open and dug through it. “Shit. It’s not in here.” Gulping, I looked at the phone in his hand. “Answer it.”

Kyle hit the answer button but didn’t say anything. After a second or two my zombie hearing picked up Brian’s voice.

“Is this Kyle?”

Kyle remained silent another couple of breaths before speaking. “Hello, Brian.”

“Do you have Angel?”

“Yes.”

I heard Brian exhale. “Thank god. I know you think I’m guilty. I’m not. We need to work together, or we’ll end up bumping heads as badly as almost happened tonight.”

Kyle remained impassive. “Do you have Dr. Nikas?”

“I do. He’s safe.”

“I’ll need to speak to him.”

“Let me talk to Angel.”

Kyle shifted his eyes to me and handed the phone over.

I took it. “Brian?”

“Hey, Angel, you okay?”

“Yeah, except some jerk stole my phone.”

“I needed to be able to contact you since you weren’t in the mood for calm conversation,” he said. “Plus, we sort of ran out of time.”

“Yeah, whatever,” I grumbled. “Where’s Dr. Nikas?”