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

Pierce remained quiet for a moment, while I tried not to squirm or make an excuse to leave the room. I couldn’t imagine he’d be happy with me for dumping his nephew over such a weak reason.

“A shame he didn’t learn.”

“Huh?” I gave him a baffled frown. “Didn’t learn what?”

“Didn’t learn from previous incidents of trying to rule your life,” he said with such compassion and understanding that my stupid eyes started leaking again.

“He’s never mean,” I started to explain, to defend him, then shook my head. “Doesn’t matter. He’s still my Marcus,” I said fiercely, “and I’ll do whatever it takes to get him back.”

“I know you will, Angel,” Pierce said. “As will I. At this time I believe it will be you, me, and Brian who return to Saberton to do so.”

Wait, what? My personal reality check gave me a quick, sharp poke. I could talk a great game, but now he wanted to include me on some sort of strike team? “I’m not exactly trained in this,” I said, trying to not to fidget. “I don’t want to slow y’all down or fuck things up.”

To my surprise, he reached out and took hold of my hand. “Angel, jiu jitsu isn’t what got you through everything that came your way in the last year.”

“Yeah, no kidding,” I said fervently. “That’s ’cause I suck at it.” I snorted then shrugged. “Look, I’ve been lucky.”

“Bullshit.” He snapped the word out with such force I twitched. “You’re a smart woman,” he continued. “Resourceful. Headstrong.”

“You forgot obnoxious, inappropriate, and stubborn.”

One side of his mouth twitched up. “Tenacious and persistent.”

I gave him a perplexed look. “Okay, sure, I finally managed to pass my GED. By one point.” Man, that shit still pissed me off. “I’m a world class bullshitter, but I honestly don’t know how I can be any help with y’all. Why not take Philip instead?”

“I’m not talking about booksmart,” he stated. “Booksmart people are a dime a dozen. And Philip isn’t stable enough yet.” He drew breath as if to continue to argue his point, then let it out and simply lifted a shoulder in a slight shrug. “We need you.”

He needed me? No, he needed another warm body, and I was pretty much the only option. It’s for Marcus and Kyle. I wasn’t much of an asskicker, but I could sure as hell fake it for those two. I plastered on a smile for Pierce. “Okay, sure. I’m your gal. What do I need to do to get ready?”

The door opened, and Dr. Nikas walked in with a small glass. “You will both rest,” he stated firmly and handed Pierce the glass. “Drink,” he ordered, then glanced to me as Pierce complied. “If you need help sleeping, I can prepare a dose for you as well. It is a zombie-compliant sedative.”

The mention of sleep reminded me how incredibly exhausted I was. “I may take you up on that,” I said with a weary smile.

Pierce passed the glass back to Dr. Nikas. “Angel, please send Brian in.”

Brian was leaning against the wall in the hallway when I exited the room. “You okay?” he asked.

“Yeah. It’s been a really long day, that’s all.” I rubbed my eyes “I kind of broke someone’s nose when I was out looking for you.”

“I’m sure he deserved it,” he said.

“Actually he deserved worse, but I wasn’t in a position to do anything about it.” I yawned. “Pietro wants to see you before he goes to sleep.” I turned away, then paused. “Oh, and someone needs to remember to feed and water Andrew.”

He muttered something dark under his breath. “I’ll take care of him.”

“Don’t hurt him. Much,” I said. “Naomi still gives a fuck about the asshole.”

He let out a snort but nodded. “Got it.”

It wasn’t a promise not to hurt him, but at that point I didn’t care. I made a quick detour to the kitchen to find Dr. Nikas, downed some of his magic sleepy juice, and then found a flat and fairly soft surface in the form of a sofa to fall face first on.

Chapter 30

I blinked awake to a streetlight glowing against a night sky beyond the window. A low rumble I felt more than heard told me we weren’t far from train tracks, and soft classical music drifted from the dining room, a piece I recognized as one of Dr. Nikas’s favorites for busywork when he used his hands more than his head. A glance at a clock on the wall told me I’d only slept a couple of hours or so, but to my relief I felt surprisingly refreshed. Dr. Nikas made some damn good zombie drugs. I didn’t even mind the metallic tang that still clung from his spicy fruity sedative concoction. That stuff would be useful to have back home after a long night on call for the morgue, I mused, then grimaced at the streetlight. If I ever got back home to work and my normal life. Normal for me, at least.

Someone had kindly spread a blanket over me, and I threw it aside and pushed up off the sofa. I didn’t have the luxury of normal yet. Not with Marcus and Kyle in the hands of the Saberton assholes. Though I doubted Pierce was up and ready, I could start getting my own shit together. On the arm of the sofa lay a neat pile of folded clothing which turned out to be a t-shirt and sweat pants. Both looked large enough to swallow me whole, but they were clean, which mattered to me a whole lot more.

Other than the soft music the house was quiet. Gathering up the clean clothing, I crept down the wood floor of the hallway to a bathroom with seventies-era green wallpaper and a toilet in a matching color. Taped to the wall above the toilet was a note, written in Dr. Nikas’s neat and lovely script, that read “Please jiggle handle after flushing.” I couldn’t help but chuckle at the little reminder that even the most amazing people still had to deal with the ordinary.