Page 51
Story: Ghosts of the Dead
“Unaware of yourself,” I say.
A sly smile tugs at her lips. “Then maybe you should walk in front. That way I won’t be so… distracting.”
That’s what undoes me. Not the smile. Not the curves. That damn sentence and the confidence behind it.
Without thinking, I lean in and kiss her. Right there in front of everyone. My hair falls forward, curtaining us for a moment. I don’t give a damn who’s watching. Right now, she’s the only thing that matters.
Her eyes widen, hands instinctively bracing against my chest. I doubt she expected this kind of boldness from me. Hell, even I’m surprised.
Mars lets out a low whistle. “Get a room,” he calls, grinning wide, but the warmth in his voice surprises me.
I rest my forehead against hers. My pale skin against her sun-kissed complexion feels like its own contrast. “I should walk ahead,” I murmur. “If I keep looking at you like that, I’m going to forget how to breathe.”
“Cass…” she whispers, biting her lip.
I pull back, stepping away before I do something even dumber.
Jace finishes packing and slings his bag over one shoulder. A pistol rides at his hip, but it’s the new knife in his hand that catches my eye.
He follows my gaze and shrugs. “It was embedded in a rotter’s leg. Had to wrestle it away from Luna.”
I lift a brow. “The knife?”
He shakes his head. “The leg. That dog really likes rotter legs. Ignored everything else. Took two bribes before I could grab this one.”
I chuckle at the image. “Wish I’d seen that.”
Luna trails behind us as a silent shadow when we moveout. Autumn slipped her scraps of food this morning while calling her name in that soft voice of hers. The dog stayed even closer to her after that.
We reach an old loading dock. The collapsed grocery warehouse looms behind it. The place looks like it’s seen better days. We tighten our formation with Jace up front, Mars at the rear, and Autumn pressing close to my side in the middle. We can handle rotters, but after our last exploration, we’re watching for snipers and worse.
A rotter stumbles out from the rubble with a wet snarl and an unhinged jaw. Jace moves first. He slams the butt of his pistol into its skull and it staggers. Before I can react, a second rotter emerges from the shadows behind the first. Autumn doesn’t hesitate. She pulls out her knife and drives it straight through the second rotter’s eye socket with more force than I expected from someone her size. The rotter drops.
“Yes,” she exclaims, throwing her arms up in triumph. “Drowning makes it a double kill.”
“I don’t think that’s how that works,” Mars says, but he’s grinning.
Then she trips on something hidden in the grass and landing hard with a hollowthudthat echoes.
I’m beside her in an instant, offering my hand. “You okay?”
She takes my hand and lets me pull her to her feet. Her gaze drifts to a dark pool nearby. “Rotter fell in. My knife’s still in its skull.” She chews her lower lip in thought. “How deep do you think that is?”
“Yeah, that’s not going to happen,” I say, my voice flat.
Meanwhile, Jace crouches where she fell. “That sound…” He clears away weeds. “This isn’t normal ground.”
The cleared weeds reveal a metal door flush with the ground. When Jace grips the handle and pulls it open with arusty groan, we can see stairs descending into pitch-black darkness below.
“Well,” Mars says from behind us, looking over Autumn’s head with his chest against her back. His hand rests on her arms. “That’s not ominous at all.”
Autumn steps forward. Before Mars can crowd closer again, I’m already moving. I slide my backup blade from my hip and slip behind her, tall enough to easily encompass her smaller frame. My arm wraps around her waist and I slip the blade into the waistband of her jeans, angled low for a quick draw. My fingers brush bare skin above her hipbone, heat sparking under my touch. Her breath catches. Everything about her is becoming distracting.
I lean down so my mouth is against her ear. “If anything comes near you, stab up into soft tissue. Twist before you pull. Human or rotter.”
She nods, and I lower my voice. “Still hate the thought of you needing to use it.”
“You’re sweet,” she murmurs.
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