Page 41 of Zomromcom
By the time they made it to the roadside spot where they’d last seen Riley and the other Girl Explorers, she was full of both preservatives and glee at Max’s discomfiture. Unfortunately, however, the latter faded as soon as she concentrated on the tasks ahead.
Before leaving her car, they scanned their surroundings and ensured their weapons remained in easy reach, because neither wanted a repeat of the previous day’s debacle. Then, without a word, she let him lead her into the woods as he tracked Riley’s scent trail.
While they walked along, Max’s nostrils flaring every so often, she kept watch and rested a hand on her sheathed cleaver. If, from time to time, she also whispered a bit of encouragement—“What’s that, Lassie? Timmy fell into the well? Good boy!”—that was only to be expected.
He couldn’t divert enough of his attention for an effective glare in response, but she wasn’t hurt. It was the murderous thought that counted.
Ten minutes later, they stood in front of a small brick duplex.
He nodded toward the left door. “Riley’s residence.”
After taking good whiffs of the buildings on either side, he shook his head, then approached the duplex’s right door.
Immediately, his shoulders stiffened. “A witch and a telepath live here.”
Edie strode forward to ring the bell. There were footsteps and rustling noises behind the door—the homeowner checking the peephole, no doubt—before the wooden barrier swung open.
A twentysomething woman with coppery brown skin, a long ponytail, and a knife strapped to her thigh stood framed in the doorway, her dark eyes sharp with suspicion, her feet braced in a battle-ready stance.
“Hi!” Edie waved. “I’m so sorry to bother you, but we couldn’t afford to wait. I’m—”
“Edie. Riley warned me you might show up sooner or later. I’m Sabrina.” The other woman offered her a tight smile before turning to Max. “Vampire.”
“Witch,” he responded with silky cordiality.
There were far more important matters at hand, Edie knew. Given the circumstances, this encounter had already taken far too long, but…yeah. She had to say it.
“Sabrina?” Edie tried very, very hard not to snort. “You’re a witch named…Sabrina?”
“My parents had a weakness for nineties sitcoms,” Sabrina the Twentysomething Witch muttered. “Just ask my brother Urkel.”
Edie turned away and coughed. Loudly.
“Sorry,” she choked out. “Swallowed wrong.”
Max thumped her back, his own stern expression cracking a little at the edges.
The witch rapidly regained both her composure and her wary scowl. “I want your name, vamp. Then I want to know why I should let a blood-hungry, far-too-powerful creature of violence past my wards and into my home.”
Yikes. The creation of the Supernatural and Enhanced Ruling Council must have been fun .
He took his time replying, and when he finally spoke, he sounded bored. “All our lives are at stake. And if I’d intended harm to you, you’d know by now.”
“ Max .” Edie elbowed him in the ribs. Hard. “That wasn’t reassuring. Like, at all.”
If they hoped to coax Sabrina into helping them, the three of them needed to reach at least a tentative truce. Which meant Max should let Edie take the lead and shut his very attractive mouth.
“No, it wasn’t. But the fact that you’re human and apparently unharmed, and you seem to trust him…” Sabrina’s chest rose and fell on a sigh. “ That’s reassuring. I suppose. Although you could just be an idiot.”
Max stiffened again. “Edie is highly intelligent, witch.”
His voice had turned sharp, his accent slightly French, and Edie wound her arms around his waist and pressed up against his side in an effort to distract him with her boobs.
“Hmmm.” Sabrina eyed them both balefully.
Max’s mouth opened, most likely in preparation to say something offensive or inflammatory.
Edie reached up and gently but firmly sealed her palm over his lips.
In retaliation, he lightly scraped an incisor over the pad of flesh below her thumb.
As she shivered in response, he somehow managed to radiate smug satisfaction without uttering a single word.
Sabrina’s coffee-brown stare focused on Edie. “He sniffed out Riley’s trail, didn’t he? Like an overgrown, leather-clad bloodhound.”
When he didn’t attempt to protest that description, Edie dropped her hand, although she left it free for emergency-silencing purposes. “Or Lassie. That was my go-to reference.”
“Nice.” Sabrina’s brief grin flickered, and then she sighed again. “Give me five minutes. My wife is gravely ill, and I need to take care of her before dealing with you two.”
She shut the door in their faces.
“Such gracious hospitality,” Max said loudly enough to be heard through the paneled wood, and Edie’s elbow found his ribs once again.
“I hate that Sabrina’s wife is so sick.” She hung her head. “Now I feel even worse about asking her to risk her life.”
He tugged gently at a lock of her hair. “You had no way of knowing and no choice but to ask.”
“Maybe once our cluster of unfortunateness is less…uh, unfortunate, I can get to know them better and help out somehow.”
His voice was as dry as her dehumidified garage. “Much like a reality television contestant in the early 2000s, I’m pretty sure Sabrina isn’t here to make friends.”
“Then it’ll be a delightful surprise for her when she makes friends anyway. I’ve broken the will of greater cynics than Sabrina.” Like, say, the vampire currently stroking a thumb down her bent neck. “I intend to make her my cream cheese–swirl brownies. Resistance is futile, albeit delicious.”
“I might hold back on the Borg comparisons, at least until she’s been fully assimilated.” He sounded like he was smiling. “But if anyone can turn a suspicious witch into an ally, it’s probably you.”
The sound of rapid footsteps drifted through the closed door, and then Sabrina swung it open again and impatiently waved them inside.
Once they were standing in the narrow entry hall, the door safely locked behind them, Edie didn’t waste more time on pleasantries or even a brief, nosy study of the home’s interior.
Instead, she turned to Sabrina and launched into an explanation. “Did Riley tell you what we were trying to do?”
The witch gave a brief nod. “She said you wanted to get word of the breach to authorities outside the Zone.”
“We didn’t succeed.” Edie blew out a breath. “As you’ve probably guessed by now.”
“Since we didn’t hear any sirens or helicopters, we thought you might have gotten stuck at Wall Four. Or, more likely, that you’d encountered the pack on your way out, and—well.” Sabrina’s lips pressed together, and her voice softened. “I’m glad we were wrong about what happened to you.”
Edie smiled at her. “Thank you. Anyway, after Riley told us what you saw while scrying, we decided to visit the site of the breach, because we wanted to gather any remaining scent evidence. We also didn’t want to mention possible demon involvement to authorities without confirming it for ourselves.
” Which was hopefully the nicest possible way to say We weren’t sure we could trust you .
“You need to know what we saw and smelled there, Sabrina.”
The witch’s brow creased. “Tell me.”
While Edie explained everything, Max stood silently at her back, offering support and an occasional grunt of affirmation. Sabrina listened without interrupting, apart from a few clarifying questions.
“We intended to find you immediately and ask for your help in gathering allies,” Edie concluded once she’d shared all the pertinent information, “but we ran into a stray zombie at a moment when we weren’t paying sufficient attention, and…uh…”
The words wouldn’t come. She couldn’t skim over Max’s injuries as if they were simply another event in their series of terrible misadventures. As if seeing him near death hadn’t traumatized her and underscored how deeply she actually cared for him.
Max’s hands clasped her shoulders from behind, kneading her taut muscles gently. “I needed Edie’s help, a few hours, and a safe place to heal. By the time I regained consciousness and full mobility, the sun had set.”
“And with a pack on the loose, it was too late to find me,” Sabrina deduced.
“Yes. Exactly.” Edie spread her hands and stared pleadingly at the other woman.
“Sabrina, we can’t let the zombies out of the Zone.
They have to stay within the final wall.
If they escape, countless people and Supernaturals will die.
And even if the government and SERC were able to drive the creatures back again, as soon as officials studied the breach site, word would spread that Supernaturals were involved, and then—”
“Full-on slaughter. Apocalyptic violence.” Sabrina pinched the bridge of her nose between her thumb and forefinger.
“So the government can’t be part of our containment efforts, and afterward, we can’t tell just any random official about the breach and its probable cause.
We have to find someone who’s open-minded, strategic, and able to keep secrets for the greater good. ”
Edie’s newly massaged shoulders slumped in relief.
That we meant the witch would help them. Thank heavens.
“Also someone not connected or beholden to the fae in any capacity,” Max added.
“But first…” Edie chewed on her lower lip, her brief respite from worry over in an eyeblink. “We have to either kill the zombies or get them back to their compound and keep them there. All of them.”
Gods and goddesses, this entire plan sounded impossible. Like a fool’s errand. But they had no other choice, did they?
“Agreed.” Sabrina’s hand lowered to her side. “And at least one of us has to survive long enough to find our strategically minded, secretive official. Luckily, I think I can help with that bit. Or, more accurately, my wife can.”
Swiveling to address the shadowed loft area toward the back of the home, she called out, “Starla! Did you hear all that, sweetheart?”
“Of course.” The voice drifting down from the loft was soft and sweet. “I can start contacting our neighbors and telling them to gather here, if that’s what you need, Sabby.”
Something about that phrasing—“Your internet is working? Or your phone?”
“Everything’s still down, unfortunately.
” A lovely Black woman appeared behind the loft railing, with a shy smile and a bare, gleaming head.
“And I’m mostly stuck here in bed, so I won’t be able to fight or recruit help in person, but I’m a telepath.
I can communicate with anyone I’ve recently seen, as long as they aren’t too far away or blocked by something solid.
Like a huge, thick stone wall, for example. ”
Max had been right, then. Starla was an Enhanced human, like her wife.
“Star, you have limited energy right now, and you already wore yourself out contacting our neighbors and warning them to find shelter yesterday.” Sabrina’s fists were planted on her hips, and the glare she directed up at the loft was full of pained love. “If you don’t rest today—”
“If I don’t rest today, maybe you can recruit enough people to save us all.
Including me.” The telepath shook her head, lips pursed.
“Sabby, if there’s a war, do you really think common humans will let the Enhanced live?
We’ve cooperated with Supernaturals too many times and far too closely.
An enraged gun-toting mob won’t consider us innocent bystanders.
They’ll call us their enemies and slaughter every last one of us. ”
A mutinous expression creased Sabrina’s face, but she didn’t argue. Her wife was correct, and they all knew it.
“I need to help,” Starla said. “And if the worst happens, I’ll somehow find a trustworthy official and tell them everything.
But that won’t be necessary, because you’re going to survive this, babe.
We all are.” Her narrow, intelligent face brightened with a small smile.
“Honestly, most everyone we know is gone for the holidays, so I won’t have much work to do.
I’ll need to take a car ride over the bridges to Zones A and C, though, so I can contact our friends who live there without a wall blocking my thoughts. ”
“Starla, sweetheart…” Sabrina rubbed her forehead. “I’m not sure I can carry you to the car. Maybe we can—”
“I’ll get her into the car,” Max interrupted. “You know how strong I am, witch. I won’t jostle or hurt her in any way.”
A long, tense silence stretched between them.
When she finally replied, her voice had turned chilly once more. “Swear on her life, vampire.” She tipped her head toward Edie, fear and suspicion pulling her delicate features taut. “Because if you harm my wife, your sweet companion will pay the price.”
Max’s fingers bit into Edie’s shoulders, and when she looked back at him, his irises had darkened to the cold, deep blue of a fathomless ocean.
“Do it, Max,” she demanded in a low whisper. “We need their help. And we both know you won’t harm her wife, so your promise changes nothing for me.”
He made a sort of growly sound deep in his throat as he scowled down at her, but he eventually turned back to Sabrina.
“I will not inflict intentional harm on Starla or act carelessly in regard to her safety and comfort,” he told the witch, reluctance in every syllable. “I can’t promise she won’t come to harm due to chance or someone else’s actions—”
“Let him finish, Sabby,” Starla gently ordered when Sabrina began to protest.
“—but if I can prevent that harm, I will. That much I’ll willingly…” He paused, his skin an odd shade of pale. Almost greenish. “I’ll willingly swear on Edie’s life.”
“That works for me.” Starla curled a trembling hand around the loft railing. “Baby, his thoughts indicate he’s telling the truth, and I shouldn’t be wasting my energy on this conversation. Stand down, please.”
“Fine.” Eyes still narrowed on Max, the witch extended a hand to him. “I accept your promise.”
“Good,” he said pleasantly enough, and shook briefly. “Glad we’re in agreement.”
Sabrina offered him a curt nod, and Edie let out a relieved breath.
“Also…” An unsettling smile spread across Max’s face. “Please know that if you willingly harm or allow harm to befall Edie, I won’t kill your wife.” He bared his teeth, displaying lengthened, needle-sharp fangs. “I’ll kill you , witch.”
“All righty, then,” Edie quickly said, taking Max’s arm and yanking him farther away from their openly seething host. “Let’s move on from the threat-issuing portion of this morning’s schedule, shall we?”
“Seconded,” came Starla’s gentle voice from upstairs, right before her face disappeared into the shadows once more.
Her wife grunted. “Fine.”
“Fine,” Max sneered.
And then—gods and goddesses help them—they all got to work.