Chapter 8
eight
. . .
I woke up in bed with my husband, filled with the heavy contentedness of a well-sated marriage. I sat up and his hand slid down my body to my lap.
Zombies. Nutmeg. Now they’d be coming for him. How could I make this better? His hand started moving, and I inhaled sharply before I scooted out of bed then hesitated. He needed to bathe really well. There was only one way I could make certain that he got perfectly clean.
I grabbed his hand and dragged him off the bed. I hadn’t meant to be that forceful, but I didn’t know my own strength.
He smiled at me, lazy and soft, like we’d spent a long time indulging in our marriage vows of love and intimacy. “Good afternoon. Where are we going?”
“Shower. I need you to scrub my back.”
“Why didn’t you tell me right away?” He scooped me up in his arms and carried me into our very large and well-situated shower. He tasted so good. And felt so good. He always knew exactly what I wanted, needed, craved.
The water pounded against my back while he kissed me, water sliding between us and steam swirling all around.
I was rougher than usual. I wanted more contact, more connection, more pressure, and he obliged perfectly, as always.
Was this okay? Would he be marked? He scraped his teeth over my shoulder and I arched back, circling his narrow waist with my legs.
After the extremely long and active shower, I got dressed in my closet around my bed.
I pressed my palm against my stomach and took a deep breath.
I loved him too much. I ached with how much I loved him.
I needed to end the marking and quit slaying and get back to reality with my husband, but how?
The obvious answer was to destroy all the zombies.
How many were there? I needed to talk to Tom.
I needed to go slaying tonight, and every night, until they were eradicated.
I couldn’t touch my husband again until it was safe. When I came down the stairs, I smelled pumpkin spice chai coming from the kitchen. All the doors and windows were still open, and the place was nicely aired out.
“You’re dressed for going out,” he said, nodding at my suit.
“I forgot to tell you, I got a job. It’s not great, just a night receptionist at a hotel, but it’s something. I need to get going for orientation and then a long night shift. Don’t wait up for me.”
He cocked his head and studied me. “You’re back to being distant. You remembered that you’re angry at me.”
“It’s not that.”
He raised a brow over his mischievous eyes. “I see. In that case, while you’re off working hard, I’ll take care of the house. I apologize for making such a big mess for you to clean up. I just wanted the mess, not for you to fix it for me. Sometimes chaos can be therapeutic.”
There was nothing more chaotic than zombies. “And sometimes it’s just a mess. We need to think about putting the house on the market soon.”
“Do you want me to find a realtor?”
“If you know someone good.”
“You’re the only good person I know. Don’t ever change.”
I stared at him while my heart pounded and throbbed and twisted. I needed to kiss him. I needed to love him. He handed me a thermos of pumpkin spice chai and kissed my forehead.
“Have a good night at work. Stay safe. You never know what kind of crazies you’re going to run into.”
I smiled at him and headed out. There were so many kinds of crazies, the Grand Master, Gloria, zombies, which were on the menu tonight?
I went to Tom’s place, parking my car in front of the nearest hotel and then walking the two blocks to the theater. It wasn’t a nice hotel, old, run-down, but respectable enough.
When I got to the movie theater, I leaned on the ledge outside the box office window and smiled at Erin, the old lady who I swear had retired years ago. “Is Tom here?”
“Who’s asking?”
“Lucky. Don’t you remember me?”
She scowled at me, and then the scowl dissolved and she grinned, showing several missing teeth. “Look at you! All grown up and old. Why are you wearing a suit?”
“I have business with Tom. Do you know where he is?”
She leaned closer to the window, glanced both ways, and then whispered, “He’s on a date.”
I wouldn’t have been more shocked than if she’d confessed that she was a zombie, or a Greek goddess. “A date? Are you sure?” Maybe he called slaying a date.
“Sure. Your old friend, the frizzy red hair, that one, he’s out with her, well, technically he’s in with her. They went to a movie together, the only two in the theater, if you know what I mean.” She wiggled her brows, which she’d tattooed on black, but the ink had turned purple over time.
“Oh. Gloria and Tom are on a date? Wow! I guess I won’t disturb him then.” Except that I had to tell him about the Grand Master. “Actually, it will only take a minute.” I knocked on the door until she buzzed it open and I walked in.
“They’re in theater one, if you remember where that is.”
I sure did. Shiver. I nodded at her and walked briskly down the dark hall, past the theaters with muted thumps and bumps.
I walked into the theater boldly and then had to stop when I saw the movie.
It was Gloria’s favorite, Arsenic and Old Lace, but Tom resembled Boris Karloff much more than he did Cary Grant.
I sat down right behind them and poked Tom in the shoulder. He didn’t move from his position next to Gloria, frozen in place while she snuggled against him, head on his shoulder, only turning to nuzzle his neck every once in a while.
I poked him harder. “Tom,” I whispered under my breath.
He shook his head imperceptibly. He wanted me to leave?
I needed to talk to him about serious stuff.
If he was going to drag me so happily into his slayer mess, I was going to ruin his date.
And Gloria thought I was having an affair with him, so she was seriously cheating on me with him as far as she knew. So I was justified.
I cleared my throat loudly and Gloria sat up, whirling around to stare at me with big purple eyes. Shouldn’t she be tired of the purple by now? She usually changed up the contacts more often.
“Sorry to break up this adorable little episode, but I need to have a conversation, Tom.”
Gloria smiled brightly. “He doesn’t want to have a conversation with you.
He’d rather stay here with me.” She turned around and went right back to snuggling, rubbing her cheek on his neck in a really icky way.
You only did that at home, in your bedroom, not in front of your childhood friend with her slayer partner, or sensei, whatever.
“Tom, I need to talk to you about that herbal supplement you gave me. What are the side-effects?”
He didn’t answer, so I walked down the aisle and came back in the row in front of them.
I knelt on the seat in front of Tom and then I really looked at him.
He didn’t look all there, and his shirt was unbuttoned.
When I pushed back the fabric, his chest was liberally covered in swollen, oozing bites.
Gloria laughed and slapped my hand away. “He’s mine now, just like Gloria is mine. Just like you are mine.”
For a second, my mind froze. She wasn’t my Gloria. Oh. No.
I punched her face as hard as I could. My fingers cracked and her nose smashed, then I bashed her face with my forehead. I needed her unconscious, because I couldn’t deal with her while I had to focus on the zombies that had quietly entered the movie theater while I’d been distracted by Tom.
This was not on my menu. Was she Gloria at all, or was she turned? She seemed human, but I didn’t know what freshly turned zombies looked like. Then again, maybe she was possessed by a ghost or whatever else possessed people.
With Gloria slumped unconscious, I pulled my knife and turned just in time to rip through the skull of one of the zombies that had been gathering around me.
“We are here for you,” a zombie hissed before I slashed through his brains.
“We are here for you,” two more groaned before I ripped them apart.
More and more took up the chorus, and the more that said those obnoxious words, the faster I moved, working hard as the Grand Master’s zombie executioner.
I worked hard and fast, efficiently, and finally had space to move, and then more space until the entire room was littered with dead formerly undead corpses, and Gloria and Tom.
What was I supposed to do for him? Was he infected? Was there any point in not just killing him now? I was not killing him as long as he wasn’t trying to kill me, and he just sat there, slightly twitching every once in a while.
Duct tape was such a useful tool. I needed to carry it with me along with the lock-pick and an extra change of clothing.
I stole duct tape from Tom’s back room then put them both on a cleaning cart, draped plastic over them and pushed them out to my car, through the crowd of happy movie-goers who had no idea what kind of drama was in just the next theater.
After I got them in the car, I only had one option. It wasn’t a great option, but it was an option. I took them to the Grand Master’s hotel and put Tom in one of the barred entries and Gloria in the other, before I went into the room between them and picked up the phone.
“Good evening. How can I help you?” the nervous woman answered.
“I would like to speak to the owner of this hotel. Do you have his number?”
“I… Are you certain that’s what you want?”
I didn’t actually want to talk to the Grand Master, with his not-so-subtle come-ons and his endless arrogance, but what choice did I have? “Yes, thank you.”
“Hold please.”
I listened to the elevator music and idly took an apple out of the large basket and bit into it. It was a little mealy, so I put it back.
“Yes?” He said it all stretched out, so it took up as much space and as a few words as possible.