Restrained? At last my gaze zeroed in on my wrists. They were at my sides, cuffed to the gurney. Calm down? As if! “Let me go! Now!” The words scraped at my throat like glass shards in a blender.
“If you won’t calm down on your own, I’ll drug you again, and you’ll be completely helpless. Do you want to be completely helpless, Miss Bell?”
Reeve’s dad, Mr. Ankh, walked around a curtain. He’d traded in his suit for bloodstained scrubs and a lab coat. A stethoscope dangled from his neck. His dark hair stood on end, and his eyes were rimmed with red.
Beside him stepped a taller man with dark, though no less disheveled, hair. His features were rougher, the shadow of a beard on his jaw. His eyes were an electric blue, and his nose had a slight bump in the center. His face and arms were streaked with dirt, and yet his hands were scrubbed clean.
Beside him stepped Dr. Wright, who had thin, horn-rimmed glasses perched on her nose and her arms crossed over her middle. She’d ditched her dress for a large button-up shirt and sweatpants so long they’d had to be pinned at the ankles. Somehow, she appeared no less authoritative.
“How are you feeling, Ali?” she asked. “You’ve been out for most of the night.”
“I feel like I want someone to let me go. Here’s a hint. That someone is you!”
A newcomer spoke out. “They’re just going to ask you some questions. The sooner you let them start, the sooner you’ll be released.”
Tensing, I watched as Cole eased through the open door. He hadn’t changed his clothes, even though blood streaked his T-shirt and jeans. My blood, I think. A white ball cap perched on his head, his dark hair sticking out in spikes underneath. Shadows fell over his face, blocking his eyes from inspection.
“Who is he?” I demanded, motioning to the only one I didn’t know with a tilt of my chin.
“My father. His name is Tyler.”
My eyes widened as I refocused on the rougher-looking adult. Now that I knew there was a connection, I could tell that his features were similar to Cole’s. Same slightly uptilted eyes, same stubborn chin.
I forced myself to relax against the hard surface of the bed and gave a stiff nod. “Fine. Ask your questions.”
Mr. Holland jumped in first. I just couldn’t think of him as Tyler. It was too informal, too friendly when he was clearly anything but. “How did you know where those traps were? Because I’m thinking there’s no way you could have known where we’d set up an ambush unless you’d been spying on us.”
To tell the truth, or not to tell the truth? Maybe seeing glowing smears was a sign I was meant to be a slayer—one of those “many more” abilities the journal had mentioned. Maybe not. Maybe it would end all the antagonism lancing my way. Or maybe not. Maybe the antagonism would grow.
Either way, I did it; I explained the glowing smears. Their expressions remained rigid and harsh, even when they looked at each other, as though curious to know what everyone else thought.
They had me describe the smears, and I tried not to use a you-are-such-an-idiot-what-do-you-think-they-looked-like tone. They had me pick out the color from a chart on a laptop. Who could have known there were so many shades of white? They drilled me about my father, about the things he’d said and done, and then about the grandfather I’d never met.
“I think I know what you saw,” Mr. Ankh said. “Or rather, what caused the glow.”
When he said no more, I snapped, “Well. What?”
He and Mr. Holland shared a dark look before Mr. Holland nodded and Mr. Ankh said, “The Blood Lines.”
Cole had mentioned the pouring of a chemical around a home to keep the zombies out. But why would they mark the trees?
Mr. Holland flicked his tongue over an incisor. “The zombies are coming out when they shouldn’t, just to hunt you. Why is that?”
“I don’t know,” I replied. “Why don’t you tell me? You obviously know more about this stuff than I do.”
He stopped flicking and started growling. “You have to know something. How else would you have survived so many attacks?”
Anger exploded through me, a white-hot lance consuming everything in its path. “Are you suggesting I’m working with the zombies? That I paid them to pretend to attack me so that I’d trick you into letting me join you?”
“Did you?” Mr. Holland demanded.
“Yeah, okay,” I said in a sugar-sweet tone. “You’re right. I was having dinner with Zombie Carl the other night. You know, steaks, rare, and a bottle of vintage type A. He told me all his secrets, but too bad for you I promised him I wouldn’t tell. In exchange I asked him to gather his best undead buddies and stalk me through my friend’s yard. And oh, yeah, it was totally fine if they wanted to use me as an all-night dinner buffet, because having organs is so last season.”
Cole turned away, and I heard a dubious choking sound coming from his direction. Was he…laughing at me?
How dare he! This was my life we were talking about.
I should have zipped my lips to prevent myself from adding fuel to his amusement but my anger urged me on. “You know, there’s a very good chance I’m the best fighter in this room. Did you ever think of that?” Never mind the fact that I’d almost died. “Maybe, if you were better, you wouldn’t be so surprised when someone exhibits extraordinary abilities.”
All three adults gaped at me.
“Just so we’re clear,” I said to Cole’s father, “what exactly is it you suspect me of doing? What is it you think I’ve already done? You haven’t said. Do you think I’m going to tattle to the humans Justin Silverstone works with? Well, I won’t. Their motives are questionable, according to Cole, and I have too much to lose.”
I waited, but they offered no response. They merely stared at me, waiting. My mom had used the same technique, and I knew they hoped I would fill the silence by spilling secrets.
“Do you treat all newcomers like this?” I asked. “Did you chain up Mackenzie and question her before you accepted her into your exhalted home?”
“Uh-oh,” Cole muttered. “The questions have started in earnest.”
I ignored him.
“Cole says you’re the most curious person he’s ever met.” Mr. Holland massaged the back of his neck, an action I’d seen Cole do on more than one occasion. “But if you think we’ll answer without proof of your intentions, you’re as dumb as a box of rocks. Justin betrayed us. He taught those people how to hunt the zombies—how to hunt us. They aren’t the type to take no for an answer, and they certainly wouldn’t think twice about sending a teenage girl into our midst to destroy us from the inside. They want us gone, not the zombies.”