The Queen Of Zombie Hearts. Gena Showalter

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      I was slung over his shoulder, my fists beating at his back, my knees digging into his torso. “Let go,” I demanded.

      “Never again,” he countered.

      “You keep saying that. What do you want with me? What do you want from me?” As if I didn’t know him, sometimes better than I knew myself.

      “I want what I’ve always wanted. Everything—”

      —as suddenly as it had begun, the vision ended.

      Because the world was tilting. I was falling, hitting my knees.

      “Ali!” Cole threw his legs over the side of the bed.

      “Stay where you are or you’ll rip out your IV! I’m okay.” I stood, shaking off the momentary flash of dizziness that had taken me down. Lingering effects of the sedative, I was sure.

      Cole didn’t listen. He made to rise. I rushed to his side, easing onto the mattress, pressing my hip against his and pushing him to his back. For now, I didn’t care about the vision. We’d seen it weeks before, and we would see it again. We’d figure it out then.

      “You should be used to girls falling at your feet,” I said.

      He cracked the barest hint of a smile. “I’d rather have one girl standing beside me.”

      Sweet-talker. “How are you?”

      He twined his fingers with mine, lifted our joined hands and kissed my knuckles. “I’m better now that you’re here.”

      Six little words, and yet my heart swelled with love. Were all guys so open about their feelings? So willing to admit when they needed, when they wanted...when they had to have or else?

      “How’s your recovery?” I asked.

      “Better than it should be. Nearly burning me alive was a good call.”

      I donned a haughty air. “Did you ever doubt it?”

      “Only all night and a little this morning.”

      “So hardly at all.”

      He cracked another smile. “Last night I was getting weaker, so I performed the fire trick on myself. Charged me right up. But had it not been for you, I wouldn’t have known to do it.”

      “So you owe me.”

      “Exactly. I pay in kisses.”

      “Good thing I accept that currency.” I adored this playful side of him—and hated knowing it wouldn’t last. “Have you been told about Trina, Lucas and Cruz?” I asked softly.

      “Yeah.” He scoured his other hand over his face. “But that’s not all. The gym burned down.”

      Horror sped through me at full throttle. “Bronx. Mackenzie. They were there.”

      He gave a clipped nod. “The good news is, no bodies were found inside.”

      Okay. Okay, then. They’d either gotten away or been captured. Just like all the others.

      Stomach cramp.

      “We haven’t heard from anyone. News stations have been blasting stories about the attacks, but besides Cruz, no other murders have been reported.” I paused, mentally preparing myself for a fight. “I’m taking Kat and Reeve, and we’re going on a hunt.”

      He surprised me by giving another nod. “That’s great.” Of course, he just had to add, “I’m going with you,” which deflated me.

      “You need to stay in your sickbed for at least a month, the way you made me stay in mine.” I’d been recovering from a stab wound—one he had given me.

      Don’t worry. It wasn’t domestic abuse or anything. He hadn’t done it on purpose.

      “Try to keep me here. I dare you,” he said, then winked. A challenge? “You’ll end up beside me.”

      “Oh, no. Not that. Anything but that,” I responded with a mock shudder.

      “Smarty.” He tweaked the end of my nose. “Even on my worst day, with both hands tied behind my back, and no gun, I can shoot better than you.”

      “Maybe so,” I said, practically dripping sweetness. “But you have no control over your swords.”

      His eyes narrowed. “Low blow, Miss Bell. Very low blow.”

      “I thought so.” I fluffed my hair.

      “Does Ankh know what you’re planning with his precious?”

      “Not yet.”

      “Are you actually going to ask him for permission?”

      “Well, yeah.” The girls and I could leave without his knowledge, sure. I was good at sneaking. But he would panic and go looking for his daughter, maybe get himself killed. I didn’t need the added guilt.

      “He won’t just say no,” Cole said. “He’ll try to sedate you and lock you up.”

      Yeah. Probably. “I’ve seen his work firsthand. But I’m onto his tricks now.” He wouldn’t catch me off guard a second time. “He’s just going to have to trust me and stop trying to surround Reeve with bubble wrap.”

      “I get where he’s coming from,” Cole said, everything about him softening. “To Ankh, she is a reason for getting up in the morning, and there’s nothing more important to him. Without her, he might as well just curl up and die. And that, Miss Bell, is exactly how I feel about you.”

      Oh, glory. Nana had destroyed me with her declaration, but Cole...Cole was utterly slaying me....

      “There’s a difference between you and Mr. Ankh,” I said with a soft smile. “You know I can defend myself, and you trust me to make smart decisions. Isn’t that right, Mr. Holland?” Eew. No way I’d use the name reserved for his father.

      Backtrack. “Mr. Cole.”

      He tugged on a lock of my hair. “That’s right. Therefore, I will girl up, as Kat likes to say, since that’s apparently better than manning up, and I will let you go—”

      “Wait. You’ll let me?” I interjected with attitude.

      “—without a fight,” he finished. “Besides, I wasn’t asking if I could come with you. I was telling you I’d be by your side.”

      Le sigh. His determination was kicking up a fuss again. “What’s your blood pressure? Do you have a temperature? Are you even steady on your feet?”

      He smiled and said, “Reason number thirteen. You always ask way too many questions.”

      Of all the things I’d expected him to say, that didn’t even come close. He definitely had to be feverish. “That’s a reason you love me?”

      “See? Another question. But yes, it is. It’s charming.”

      Well, he was the only one who thought so. Other people found it off-putting. And that was being kind!

      I leaned over and kissed his brow, careful not to brush against his injury, then pressed my brow into his. “Don’t think the fact that you avoided discussing your condition has escaped my notice. But I’ll let it slide...and I’ll let you come with me. As long as you stay in the car.”

      “Let me?”

      “Oh, good. Your ears are working.”

      The softness faded from his expression, fierce protectiveness taking its place—as well as cold-blooded aggression.

      The aggression wasn’t directed at me, I knew, but at Anima.

      “Let’s play a little game I like to call Cole’s in Charge and Ali’s Not.”

      “Pass! Played it before, hated every second.”

      The