Page 44 of Zomromcom

Gwen eventually emerged from the bathroom, supported by Max’s steadying arm, pale but composed. After sipping at her water for a few minutes, she declared herself recovered, and they began making plans as a group.

Max slipped back to Edie’s side as soon as he could. “Everything okay?”

She simply smiled at him, then got up on tiptoe and kissed his cheek. His brows rose in silent question, but she pointed toward Lorraine, who’d just begun outlining the troll cousins’ capabilities and vulnerabilities in battle.

We need to listen , Edie mouthed.

His eyes rolled to the ceiling in response, but he didn’t insist on further conversation.

They stood side by side for a few minutes, her hand cradled in his, while everyone discussed what they were and weren’t capable of doing.

And as soon as she began shifting on her feet, he left the room, only to return a minute later with an armless chair.

He wedged it into the only free spot around the table, waited for her to sit, and stood at her back, a protective vampiric wall.

That chair turned out to be a lifesaver.

For endless hours, they talked tactics and brainstormed strategies.

Divvied up responsibilities and assigned tasks to be accomplished either before or during the battle.

Gamed out possible tricks they could use to lure the zombies back toward the compound and either trap them behind a repaired wall or kill them.

The latter would be their preference. Not only because it was simpler, but also because—unlike the government—they had no desire to preserve the creatures for potential further use.

Especially since the cynics within the group had various unpleasant theories as to what that official usage might entail.

Occasional stomping occurred, along with some shouting and sullen pouting. But by the time night fell, they had a rough plan in place for the coming day, assuming the zombies didn’t breach the final wall standing between them and the rest of humanity in the meantime.

“My guess? There’s a fifty-fifty chance we’ll be too late.” Lorraine pursed her lips, her broad brow creased. “But we have no choice. There’s no way we can get everything in place tonight, and we need the advantage of darkness when we fight.”

“Agreed.” Sabrina rose to her feet and began preparing something at the stove. “Let’s relax for the rest of the evening and get as much rest as possible. I’ll make us Starla’s famous spiced apple cider, then get a fire started.”

“I can help with the cider.” Kip ambled in her direction. “It’s nonalcoholic, right? Ripping off zombie heads would probably be less fun with a hangover.”

“No alcohol,” she confirmed. “No hangovers.”

“Good.” Lorraine rose—and kept rising—to her feet too. “I’ll take care of the fire.”

“And I’ll keep Starla company for a while,” Gwen said.

“We’ll figure out the sleeping situation, if you’d like?” When Sabrina nodded, Edie turned to the Girl Explorers. “Once Max and I have a plan, all of you can divvy up the blankets and pillows, okay?”

Together, she and Max went in search of bedrooms and possible linen closets. But as soon as they rounded a corner and found themselves alone in a dim, cool hallway, he propped himself against the wall and gathered her into his arms.

“How are you, ma puce?” he asked quietly. “Did you get enough to eat?”

“Yep. I’m good.” Leaning forward, she rested her head on his shoulder and allowed him to support her weight. “I’ll feed you later tonight, once we have a bit of privacy, if that’s all right with you.”

“Of course.” His fingers sifted through her hair, the gesture already familiar. “Edie, I’m not…”

When he didn’t finish his thought, she raised her head to look at him. “What?”

“Given our resources, I think we’ve formulated the best plan possible.” His gusty exhalation tickled her forehead. “I’m not sure it’s good enough.”

“Yeah.” She couldn’t say that thought hadn’t occurred to her. “I know.”

His eyes bored into hers, intent and pleading. “If I promise to stay and fight to the absolute best of my ability, how would you feel about returning to my—”

“Nope. Not happening.” When she sagged forward again and nuzzled her face into his neck, his throat rumbled with a growly sound. “I’m not going anywhere, except into battle by your side.”

His fingers closed on a handful of her hair, gripping it near her nape.

“If you were hurt…” His voice had turned hoarse. Rough. “I don’t know what I’d do. Edie, you have to keep yourself safe. Promise me. Promise .”

“As safe as I can. I promise.” Soothingly, she stroked her palms up and down the tension-taut curve of his lower back.

“Honey, there’s no point in agonizing over what might happen tomorrow.

We’ve made our plans. We’ll execute them soon enough.

But we still have tonight, and we still have each other. ”

Slowly, his body softened against hers. The rhythm of his breathing slowed, and he lowered his head until his cheek rested against her crown.

“Let’s drink our cider and warm ourselves by the fire.” She pressed a tender kiss against his cool neck. “Then we’ll find a bed and some time alone before we have to face whatever comes next. Okay?”

His shoulders slumped, and she rubbed them soothingly. “Okay.”

“Okay.” A spill of red. All over you . If she scrunched her eyelids tightly enough, fireworks appeared behind them and erased the vision of Max soaked in blood, still and silent. “Promise you’ll keep yourself safe too. Please.”

“As safe as I can,” he echoed, then paused. “I’m not sure I trust the witch enough to drink something she’s prepared for me. Fuck knows what she might have done to that cider.”

Were all vampires such drama queens? Or was that just a Max thing?

“Don’t be so cynical.” Her teeth gave his throat an admonishing nip. “It’ll be fine.”

***

Everyone drank Sabrina’s cider. Even cynical, mistrustful Max.

It was fucking delicious. Sweet and tart and cinnamony. Kip and Lorraine, their resident gourmands, gave the beverage four enthusiastic thumbs up and nearly broke a lamp and a ceiling fan in the process.

And approximately ten minutes after they all took their first sips, the effects of the spell the witch had cast upon the beverage became unmistakably evident. In retrospect.

Neither Edie nor anyone else recognized those effects at first. No, she was too busy enjoying an unexpected and unusual sense of well-being to notice anything amiss.

Sprawled back on the comfy sofa, belly warmed by the cider and the prospect of another night spent in Max’s embrace, she looked around at their compatriots and smiled happily.

Gods, she missed having neighbors. She missed people . Or…whatever word encompassed all the different amazing species that existed. So many species! And some of them were really, really hot!

She wasn’t an introvert. Like, at all. What the fuck was she doing, living in the most sparsely populated part of the Containment Zone? Sheesh, what a dork.

“Max. Hey, Max.” Laughing a little, she leaned over on the couch and whispered into his ear, “Your penis is awesome. The best ever. I didn’t fake shit last night.”

She held up six fingers, then wiggled them in happy emphasis.

“I know, love.” He laughed too, rubbing the tip of his nose affectionately against hers. “That was the best sex of my life. Bar none. And I’ve had a lot of sex over the centuries. You honestly would not believe how much sex I’ve had. Gods, I think the first time was back in—”

“Hey, Riley.” Sabrina’s elbow rested on the mantel above the fireplace, and she surveyed everyone sprawled around the room with careful attention. “When you first met Max, how did you figure out he was a vampire? Because I’m guessing he didn’t intend to tell you.”

“What a great question!” Edie poked Max’s thigh. “We wondered that too!”

“Oh, we knew right away. Determining species is an automatic thing, since we’re all half-fae.” Riley propped herself up on her elbows and yawned widely. “Glamoured for privacy, obviously. Our troop is sort of special that way.”

Oh. For some reason that Edie couldn’t quite grasp, Riley’s revelation was…troubling. But honestly, what a lovely young woman—half-fae, whatever—Riley seemed to be. Good for her. Good for all of them!

“Huh,” Max said under his breath. “Guess I can’t detect glamoured half-fae. Good to know. Gooooood to know.”

“We couldn’t detect them either!” Spreading her hands wide, Lorraine met Max’s eyes and shrugged expressively. “Or so it seems!”

“I see.” The witch stared down at Riley, her eyes sharp. “Zombies can’t kill full fae. What about half-fae?”

Riley’s shoulders lifted in a desultory shrug. “Not sure. Maybe yes, maybe no. Hey, are you certain there isn’t anything weird in this—”

“I’m certain.” The intensity in Sabrina’s voice ratcheted higher. “Whatever’s going on here, do you have any part in it? Did you come to sabotage our efforts?”

“Nope.” Idly, the half-fae crossed one leg over the other, then swung her foot.

“The exact opposite. We had a feeling that stupid splinter group of fae might be involved, and we wanted to help clean up the mess they made. Not all fae are jerkwads, you know. Even the full fae.” She scrunched up her nose.

“Although, to be fair, a lot of them kind of are.”

“Yuuuuuuup,” Max muttered. “Got the trauma to prove it.”

Edie patted his arm.

“A lot of them,” said the blond Girl Explorer with feeling. “But even most of the jerkwads aren’t megalomaniacal murderers. That’s honestly pretty rare.”

Happy again, Edie grinned at everyone. Yay for the non-jerkwad, non-homicidal fae! And their wonderful half-fae kids! And all the whole-fae kids too!

Sabrina did not appear to be similarly pleased. “Do you know anything about the breach or what the splinter group’s larger ambitions might be?”

“Uh-uh.” Riley flopped back down on the carpet. “No clue. It’s probably horrible, though.” She tittered nervously. “Really, really horrible. Those fae are evil .”