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

I put a hand to his cheek and drank in the sight of him. Even if we didn’t get back together, there was no doubt in my mind that he was and would always be very special to me. “When I saw what they did to you—” My throat tightened, and I couldn’t finish. I doubted he’d ever been that brain-starved before, and to have that shift into monster be paired with torture . . .

A shudder crawled through him. “I’m sorry you had to see it,” he said, eyes haunted. “I remember them giving me an injection in the gut, then breaking my arms. I remember the rot and starting to lose control, and then nothing until coming back out of it while eating brains from a baggie.” His throat worked. “It was horrific.”

I reached for his hand. “I’m so damn glad you’re here and safe now.”

“I’d do everything in my power to see that none of us ever have to go through that again.” Fierce determination backed his words. Maybe Pierce wasn’t wrong at all in considering Marcus for the head position of the Tribe.

“Has there been any news about Uncle Pietro?” he asked.

Damn. It was one thing to tell Pierce I was cool telling Marcus the truth, but actually doing so was a whole other bucket of crawfish. “He’s safe.”

“Safe?” He sat straighter and looked past me as if expecting his uncle to stride into the room. “Where is he?”

I kept his hand in mine. Stuck a smile onto my face. “Okay, Marcus. Here’s where it gets weird.”

It took a while, and there were a couple of moments of almost-freakout, but Marcus finally seemed to accept what I told him about Pierce and Pietro, though by the end his jaw was clenched so tightly I thought I heard bone cracking.

“He loves you,” I told Marcus. “And I think it’s time for the two of you to talk things out. He’s in the master bedroom, downstairs.”

He leaned in to kiss me, remembering in the last instant to shift it to a kiss on the cheek. I returned the cheek kiss and watched him go, then sternly told my tired self that it didn’t matter if I felt wrung out because there was still a bunch of shit to take care of.

My tired self told me to fuck the hell off, but at least allowed me to use my legs to walk out of the room.

Naomi leaned on her crutches at the bottom of the stairs, a scowl on her face, and very obviously waiting for me. My brain was too exhausted to even try to figure out why I might deserve a scowl from her.

“Hey, what’s up?” I asked.

Her scowl twisted into a snarl. “I can’t believe you did that.”

“Did?” My brain finally clicked into gear. Andrew. Excuses and defensive explanations leapt into my head. Naomi, I didn’t know what else to do. He was dying, bleeding internally, and I swear I asked him if it was okay, I swear!

I shoved down the stammering, uncertain response the old Angel would have spouted. Fuck that noise. I was at peace with how that whole thing played out. Lifting my chin, I locked my gaze with hers. “I made a decision based on how bad his injury was,” I stated. “He was dying. I told him I could possibly save him and asked permission. He gave me permission.” I kept my hands down by my sides so she wouldn’t see how they trembled from fatigue and stress. “I don’t regret it.”

Her lip curled, and then she grinned widely. “Damn it, I was hoping to fuck with you.” She pulled me into a hug. “Serves him right, the big ol’ zombie hater.”

I wilted in relief. “Oh, Jesus, you scared me.”

“Sorry, I probably shouldn’t have ambushed you,” she said as she released me, only looking a teensy bit sorry.

I shrugged, grinned. “I’d have done the same to you.”

“He doesn’t know I know,” she said. “He barely slowed down to wave between the shower and hiding in the bedroom, but I could feel it. You know how I am.”

“Yeah, you got that sixth sense thing going on with zombies.” I shook my head. “It’s weird him being a zombie now.”

“What’s going to happen?” she asked, worry puckering her forehead. “He can’t go back.”

The thought that had been niggling away at the back of my head came out now. “Why not?” I met her eyes. “As long as he stays fed, how would anyone know?”

She blinked, obviously shocked and a little freaked that I hadn’t replied with, Of course he can’t go back.

“But if my mother finds out,” she said, “or the lab people—” She gave her head a quick little shake of denial. “He can’t!”

“Andrew’s not stupid. And he doesn’t want to stay with us.” I took a deep breath. “Not to mention, with this whole Dallas lab thing going on, it sure would be cool for us to have someone on the inside.”

She stared at me as if I had gone completely nuts. “You think you’d have him as an insider? Are you on some of Dr. Nikas’s happy juice?”

“I don’t mean calling us with daily updates or anything.” I shrugged. “But in a perfect world that would fucking rock.”