Chapter 12
twelve
. . .
I woke up angry. Hungry. Terrified.
The Grand Master was terrifying, infuriating, and horrifying, but worst of all was that little ball of goop that would have exploded out of me, killing me and whoever was around me, including my husband, Hazen, who had somehow gotten tangled up in this awful mess and wanted to stay in it.
If he wasn’t going to leave, then I had to. I couldn’t just hang around waiting for the monster that I couldn’t stop, or the one that leapt out of me and ripped him apart. I had no other choice but to run.
I kicked off the downy blankets of the hotel bed that were exactly the right amount of solid with a down topper and headed for the door.
My purse was on the table with my knife and holster, the one that had been strapped to my leg before the Grand Master invited me to dinner.
I grabbed them and ran, not calling the front desk for chicken.
I didn’t call for my car, either. I called an Uber as I walked out of the hotel towards my house.
I needed to get my passport. I wasn’t just leaving town.
I was going to find somewhere on the other side of the world to hide.
I’d need cash to get there. I’d stop at an ATM on the way to the airport.
It was late, one a.m. so maybe Hazen was home. Could I say goodbye to him again?
I called home. It rang a dozen times by the time the Uber came. I gave him the address and then called Tom. He answered after three rings.
“Tom. Is Hazen with you?”
“No. Where have you been?”
I swallowed hard and looked at the back of the head of my driver.
Maybe I should have brought my car, but I couldn’t trust the front desk lady not to tell the Grand Master what I was doing, and I didn’t need him breathing down my neck.
Or biting it in half. Or anything else. I couldn’t exactly say, ‘The Grand Master summoned me so that he could remove an exciting embryotic beast from my wound. That was a party. I should have called you and Gloria so you could join the dancing,’ not with the driver there.
I took a shaky breath. “There were some unexpected issues from our last meeting that I had to take care of.”
“You sound spooked. Calm down. I’ll meet you where you are.”
“I’m driving. I’m on my way to my house to get a few things.”
“Fine. I’ll see you shortly.” He hung up.
I was staring at the back of the guy’s head when the phone rang again, buzzing and ringing so loud and startlingly that I dropped it and shrieked a little. The driver ignored me. He could chalk my erratic behavior down to drunkenness or a midlife crisis.
I picked up the phone, unknown number. Could I just ignore it if it was the Master? I’d gotten too casual around him, too disrespectful. He was a terrible, horrible, powerful monster that could rip apart everything I loved if he didn’t feel like it was inconvenient.
I answered and then held my breath. Nothing. “Hello,” I said then pressed my lips together.
“You did not ask me for instructions on tonight’s hunting expedition.” His voice gave me shivers, and not the sexy kind.
“I didn’t think I’d go hunting tonight. I need to recover from the injury.
” The one he’d made worse by shoving his hand in my side.
Not that it hurt now, or really felt anything like bad.
I poked it and then realized that the driver was glancing at me through the rearview mirror.
What had I said? Was it incriminating? Hunting.
Hunting? What could I say about hunting?
“I mean, I hunt for a good deal night or day, but I threw my back out at the last trunk sale, and I didn’t get so much as a sample.
I don’t work this hard to look this good without something to show for it.
” That’s when I realized that I was wearing a robe.
How had I not noticed that I wasn’t wearing any actual clothing?
There was a long pause. “Did you hit your head?”
“Right? I keep asking myself that. Why don’t we talk later? I’m with this guy who keeps giving me looks,” I murmured, talking into the phone and covering my mouth.
“What kind of looks?”
“With eyes. The print has eyes on it, and I think it will look really good with the lime pants from last time. I can’t talk now. I’m in public.”
“You left the hotel? Where are you?” He sounded sharper, and I winced, even though as far as I could tell, I had no wound anymore at all.
“Where did my side ache go?” I asked him, because that would be super normal. No, no it wouldn’t.
“Where are you?” he repeated, a hard edge to his voice that made me shivery and scared, and angry for being such a coward.
“I’m going to the store to get some salt.”
“The hotel has salt.”
“Not the right kind of salt. Also, I need some other things.”
“You should stay at the hotel when you aren’t slaying.”
I closed my eyes tight. “Sure. I just need to get a few things and I’ll be right back so I’m easier to control.”
“I have no problem controlling, if that’s what I want. From you, I want more than that. You are working for me. You won’t find better pay rates anywhere for what you do.”
“What is it I do again? Oh, right, put the people I love in danger.”
“That sounds like self-pity. Call someone who cares.” He hung up on me, leaving me with a lump in my throat.
“I didn’t call you,” I said to the dead phone before lowering it slowly to my lap.
He was right. That had been a weak, self-pitying thing to say.
I had to be the mom who did the crap no one wanted to do, sometimes literal crap, sometimes cleaning up zombies, and all with a smile because I loved hard and completely.
I was literally putting all of them in danger.
That wasn’t part of the job. I wasn’t quitting; I was working.
When the car pulled up at the gate, I waved at Tim, who buzzed me in without talking much, because he didn’t know the driver. He looked suspicious while he wrote down the plate’s number.
The house was dark, enormous, empty looking. Hazen wasn’t here. I’d called, so I’d known that he wouldn’t be, but where was he?
“Can you wait?” I asked the driver.
“Sure. Five bucks for five minutes.”
I nodded, feeling tired and idiotic. First thing, I needed to get my passport out of the safety box, then I’d pack up all the necessities, snacks, toiletries, cash, and bank card.
I went inside and got my passport and then went automatically to the kitchen to make sure the stove wasn’t on and that everything was how it should be.
“Good evening,” a man said as soon as I turned on the light.
I shrieked and grabbed the nearest weapon I could get my hands on, a cast-iron frying pan. It didn’t feel as heavy as usual, thanks to the antidote. “What are you doing in my kitchen?” I demanded while I studied him.
He wore a suit, pale, loose, like a rich man would wear on vacation. His sandy hair had relaxed waves down to his shoulders, and his features were fine, feminine almost. The only weird thing about him was the green cast to his skin.
He bowed casually. “I’m here to take you to the Queen. Congratulations on evading her filthy rabble. Most humans are not so lucky.”
I gripped the handle and held it up threateningly. “I’m not going to the zombie queen. I’m not interested in anything she has to offer me.”
“No? Then I suppose I’ll have to remove you by force.” He yawned. “Excuse me, but jetlag, you know how it is travelling to and from another world.”
“I really have no idea.”
“Do you want to know?”
“I want you to get out of my house!”
He cocked his head. “You aren’t at all curious? How practical. I would be curious if I were you. I would be very curious. Why is a strange man in my house? Why did the zombie queen take such a keen interest in such a boring woman? Why do I smell so strongly of nutmeg?”
“A random zombie marked me.”
“Not at all. You’ve been targeted for a very long time. It was the first time you broke away from your careful routine, wasn’t it?”
I stared at him then shook my head. “I’m not listening to you. The servant of the zombie queen is my enemy. Your kind ruined my life.”
“And you were perfectly happy, which is why you ran away.”
“I didn’t run away!” I pulled out my knife and held it ready.
“Lies are not very attractive, even when you believe them. But you don’t.
You know that you were running away from your boring marriage, your controlling husband, your ungrateful children.
The zombie queen got it all firsthand from your delightful friend, Gloria.
Pity I’m not here for her instead of you. You’re a coward who can’t admit—”
I lunged at him and slashed through his arm, which he brought up to block my strike almost negligently. I swung the pan towards his head, but he ducked and stepped back, shaking his head and tsking.
“You interrupted me. How rude.”
“You insulted me. How rude.” I lunged again, but he stepped to the side and kicked my knife hand away.
Fighting him was not like fighting the usual deteriorating zombie. The Grand Master was right about my job being extermination instead of fighting.
He raised an arm and frowned sternly while he examined the slash I’d cut into the coat. It was not bloody. It should have been bloody.
“I will have to get a patch for it. Should I get a patch out of your skin, or shall I use your robe? Is there anything interesting beneath it? It doesn’t look like it, but looks can be deceiving.”
“Seriously? You come into my kitchen in the middle of the night and insult my robe? Who do you think you are?”
“No, it’s who do you think that you are? But you don’t. You don’t think at all, and now I’m late.” He frowned and turned towards the doors. “For a very important, oh good. They’re here.”
The windows and doors exploded and zombies came pouring in. The guy in the pale suit hopped up on the counter and started doing a little shuffling dance. Was it tap? Oh, right, Wonderland, the ‘we’re all mad here’ thing. How charming. I was going to kill them all.