The glitter in his eyes fizzles, the corner of his lips twitching. “You know, usually when someone insults me, I curse them … or eat them, depending on my mood.”
“I’m already cursed,” I reply in a bored tone. “And you won’t eat me. I’m rotting. Expired. Outdated. Spoiled meat.”
“Who says I don’t find all those things tasty?” His brow arches. “I am a demon, after all, and according to the little society you work for, all demons are disgusting creatures that should be eliminated.”
“I’m not part of the society anymore,” I mumble grumpily. “I stopped being a member the moment I became this hideous beast. Or, well, the moment I died, I guess.” My lips turn downward. “And if you want to eat me, go ahead. It’s better than rotting away.”
He rubs his lips together, struggling not to smile.
I grind my teeth. “What’s so funny?”
He shrugs. “It’s nothing.” He shakes his head, removing his almost smile. “Look, I promise I’m not lying about slowing down your decaying process. It’s going to take some time, though, and we may have to go to a few places. But the first step is heading to my lair as we speak.” He rests his elbows on the table as he leans forward. “And I promise that, for now, I won’t eat you, even though I bet you’re pretty tasty.”
His words sound as though they carry a hidden innuendo, but I’m probably just misreading him. Sure, when I was a witch, guys flirted with me all the time. But who the hell is going to want me now when I look like a walking, rotting corpse, other than another walking, rotting corpse?
He grins at my silence, reclining back in his chair. “As for your name, I’m going to keep calling you my little zombie pet because I like the sound of it. And you’re my pet now, so it’s fitting.”
“I’m not your pet.” Sure, I may feel like I am, but he doesn’t need to know that.
His eyes twinkle once again. “If that’s what you need to say to make yourself feel better.”
“Okay, faerie eyes.” I smile haughtily.
He mirrors my smile. “You know, you’re quite fun when you’re hungry. It brings out a feisty side of you that’s”—he mulls over something, wetting his lips with his tongue—“appetizing.”
I point a finger at him. “You swore you wouldn’t eat me.”
He smiles wickedly. “And, for now, I won’t.”
Sounds like another innuendo.
I roll my eyes at my mental thoughts. Yeah right, Ryleigh. No male creature that’s not half rotted away is ever going to want you, let alone the most attractive demon you’ve ever seen. Besides, you shouldn’t be worrying about guys. You should be focusing on getting your skin to stop molting.
I heave a sigh. “If your first step isn’t going to be here for a bit, can I eat again?”
“I don’t have any brains in stock, but some should be arriving shortly.”
“You ordered me brains?” I’m oddly touched and sort of grossed out by my sentiment.
He gives a nonchalant shrug. “It’s not a big deal.”
“Maybe. Maybe not. But thanks, anyway.” I smash my lips together as a few droplets of blood drip from my eyes, a sign my hunger is about to consume me. If I don’t feed soon, I am going to end up eating Max’s pretty little brain. “So, do your dragon fire snake babies hang out in your living room a lot?”
He chuckles, shaking his head. “I knew you ate it.”
“I did not,” I lie. “I’m just curious where they hang out. You know, so I can avoid them.”
“Oh, yeah?” Max asks. “Then why do you have one of their scales stuck in your hair? It’s been there since you were in my living room. You know, right after one of my pets went missing. And oddly, you had some brain on your lips and an overfed look in your eyes.”
“I didn’t … I don’t … I …” I wipe the blood dripping down my cheeks, feeling like a moron.
Seriously, who eats someone’s pet’s brain?
Embarrassment ripples through me, and my cheeks flood with warmth. A complete shock, since zombie’s bodies always run cold. Plus, we’re pretty emotionless except for when we’re hungry and cranky.
Max’s brows crinkle as he studies me. “Weird.”
My embarrassment grows. “What? Did I lose an eye or something?”
He shakes his head. “No. You’re just blushing, I think.” He extends his hand across the table and strokes his fingers along my peeling cheek. “I’ve never seen a zombie blush. Didn’t think they could.”
“Maybe they can in the right circumstances. I mean, I was able to cast spells back when I had my wand, and that’s definitely not a zombie trait.” I lean into his touch, loathing my reaction, that I’m acting so needy. But after being dead for weeks, and then being revived into a brain-eating monster, I’m starved for physical connection.
He wavers, sucking on his lip piercing. “Maybe after we reverse your decaying process, we should look more into who turned you. It might be good to know just in case they try to return for you. And we might be able to learn more about you. I’m pretty sure you might be the first of your kind.”
I sigh exhaustedly. “I’m just a zombie. Nothing special.”
He sweeps his thumb along my cheekbone then clears his throat and withdraws. “You can cast spells and blush. For a creature who supposedly can only focus on eating brains, that’s quite extraordinary. Perhaps you’re some sort of hybrid zombie-witch?”
Speaking of hybrids … “Aren’t you already preoccupied with another extraordinary creature? Goes by the name of Evalee, or as you called her, your little rainbow trout? Tell me, faerie eyes, why did you ditch her at the tent?” I measure his reaction carefully.
He rolls his tongue in his mouth, either to bite back a smile or his anger. My bet is the latter. “Because my plans changed.”
“That’s awfully flaky of you.”
“I’m a demon. We’re known for our flakiness.”
“And for being liars.”
He smirks. “You’re quite clever for a zombie.”
“Don’t change the subject. Something happened, didn’t it? That’s why we took off from that tent without Eva.”
A brief frown touches his lips, but then he plasters on a wicked smile. “You should be grateful I changed my mind about taking her. If she were here, you probably would’ve eaten her brain, just like you did with my poor pet.”
Guilt crushes down on my chest. “I didn’t mean to eat it … I just …” Sniffling, I rise to my feet. “I think I should leave.”
His eyes widen and, as swiftly as a transporting vampire, he reaches out and captures my arm. “You’re crying.”
“Let me go.” I yank my arm, attempting to get away.
He tightens his grip. “Zombies aren’t supposed to be able to cry, yet here you are, crying. Just like you blushed. Just like you can cast spells.” He tugs on my arm, forcing me to face him. “You’re not a normal zombie.”
I huff in frustration and in hunger. “Then, what am I?”
“I have no idea, but we need to find out.” He traps my palm against the table and looks me in the eyes. “Until then, I don’t think you should run off anywhere. It might be too dangerous.”
I narrow my eyes at him. “Since when do demons care if other creatures are in danger?”
He rubs his lips together. “They don’t.”
I open my mouth to blast him with questions, when the ding of the most ominous bell I’ve ever heard echoes through the lair.
Max releases my hand, a trace of a smile pulling at his pierced lips. “And step one has arrived.”
“Huh—”
A tall, cloaked demon enters the room. Followed by another. And another. And another. Before I know it, at least half a dozen demons surround me, all wearing evil smiles on their corpse-like faces, including Max. Well, except for his face isn’t corpse-like. No, unfortunately, he has a lovely, lovely face.
“All right, who’s ready to kill a zombie?” Max asks, rubbing his hands together.
&nbs
p; Shit. I knew I shouldn’t have trusted a demon.
I start to step back when they close in on me. I’m left with nowhere to go.
3
Max
At this point, I bet I can guess what you’re thinking. That I’m a demon asshole who probably killed my little rainbow trout and is now going to kill my new little pet, the hybrid in question witch-zombie.
Newsflash: I may be an asshole, and yes, I’ve killed other creatures before, but I have no intentions of permanently killing my little zombie pet, nor did I kill the weirdly pretty witch with the rainbow eyes. No, that was done by another creature. One even my demon super senses couldn’t track. Which means, whatever flew into that tent was beyond fast. And didn’t have a soul, a rare trait in the paranormal world. Even demons have souls.
While demons may be monsters, we know better than to hang around where soulless creatures are lurking, hence the reason I took off so quickly. I haven’t yet told Ryleigh about her fake sister’s death, mostly because upsetting a hungry zombie could result in me losing my pretty head. Plus, Evalee could still be hanging around in spirit form. At least, that’s what I sensed right before I split. Until I’m certain, I’d rather keep the information to myself to avoid being a zombie’s all-you-can-eat buffet.
Of course, Evalee’s death has ruined my plan of capturing her and keeping her for myself. Still, I did manage to get a zombie-witch who could be a hybrid, as well. Well, an artificially created one, anyway. But her powers could be interesting. And if there’s one thing us demons love to play with, it’s creatures and their powers.
Ryleigh glowers at me with bleeding eyes as my demon acquaintances circle her. “I knew I shouldn’t have trusted you.”
Her zombie accent makes her words hard to understand. In fact, the demons filling up my living room more than likely have no clue what the hell she said. Fortunately, I’m an expert at zombie gibberish.
“Will you relax?” I step forward from the circle of demons encompassing her. “This is the first step to stopping the decaying process.”
Her blood-filled eyes scan the crowd, then zero in on me. “Do you think I’m stupid? You just told everyone to kill me. And now you have me cornered.” Her fingers slowly curl, her hands resting at her sides. “If one of you so much as takes a step toward me, I’m going to cut open your head and spoon your brains out with my fingernails.”
I sink my teeth into my bottom lip, resisting a chuckle. When I first stumbled across her, she was much more reserved and lost. Now, the longer she remains a zombie and the hungrier she gets, the more feisty and morbid she becomes. If it weren’t for the fact that I vowed a long time ago never to commit to another creature, I’d say she was perfect for me. But I’ll never be in a relationship again. Not after the last time. Besides, I have more important things to deal with than hooking up with a zombie. Like, for starters, killing one.
I flick a piece of invisible lint off my shoulder, pretending to be bored, not wanting her to figure out just how much I’m starting to enjoy her company. “We don’t have you cornered. This is a ritual circle.” I heave an overly dramatic sigh as she continues to scowl at me. “Look, to stop the decaying process, we have to kill you. Well, kill you again. That should temporarily stop the rotting process. But, to permanently stop your entire body from crumbling away into a bag of bones and peeling flesh, and reverse the existing effects, there’s a lot more we must do. And it’s going to take a couple weeks at least. So, you and I are going to be spending a lot of time together.” I extend my hand toward her. “Which means, we’re going to have to start trusting each other. So, how about we make a deal to do just that?”
She eyeballs my hand like it belongs to … well, to a tricky demon. “Shaking hands doesn’t mean anything. You could easily still stab me in the back.”
“Well, that wouldn’t really do anything to you. Zombies can only die by decapitation”—I count down on my fingers—“being set on fire, and frozen to death.”
Her blue lips part in shock. “There’s no way I’m letting you chop off my head or set me on fire.”
“I wasn’t planning on it.”
“So, you’re going to freeze me to death?” She sounds about as enthusiastic as a monotonous demon slug.
I gesture around at the circle of demons. “Did you pay attention to what sort of demons these are?”
She tears her gaze off me and rotates in a circle, taking in the half a dozen cloaked, yellow-eyed demons. “Death Walkers.”
I nod. “Also known as the Chill of Death demons.”
She faces me with her hands on her hips. “How the hell did you find these things? They’re, like, super rare.”
I give a nonchalant shrug. “I have my ways.”
She eyes me over warily with her bleeding eyeballs. Blood trickles down her hollowed out cheekbones, her skin is as pale as a ghost and mapped by blood veins, and her long hair reminds me of a lily. Still, beneath the zombie disease, I can tell she was once pretty. And she’s not ugly right now, either, no matter what she says. She’s just a different kind of pretty. An undead sort of pretty that only demons, zombies, and other types of creatures connected closely to death can appreciate.
Maybe after I help her reverse and stop the decaying process, I’ll keep her.
I promptly shake the thought from my head. No, no more keeping pretty creatures. You made a vow. Never again.
“Look, I get that you don’t trust me, but I don’t see any other choices laying around.” I offer her my hand again. “So, how about we make a deal to trust each other and get this little freezing zombie fest started.”
Her gaze flicks to the Death Walkers that are now breathing clouds of chilled vapor from their lips, then back to me. Her shoulders slump as she sighs and places her cold hand in mine. “Fine, Max the demon, we have a deal.” She shakes my hand and mutters, “I can’t believe I’m making a deal with a demon.”
“Don’t be too hard on yourself.” I take a step back, releasing her hand and slipping my hands into my jeans’ back pockets. “Your fake sister made a deal with me once, too.”
The blood fades from her eyes as she raises her brows. “What sort of deal?”
“An interesting one,” I reply, purposely being vague.
“You promised me I could trust you, yet you’re still being evasive.”
“For a good reason.”
“Because you like my fake sister.”
“And again, you sound jealous.”
When she dramatically rolls her eyes, my lips part with a playful comeback, but the words die on my tongue as one of her eyeballs pops out and lands on the floor by my feet.
“Oh, my evil witches!” she cries, covering her eye socket with her hand. “Did my eye just seriously fall out?”
“Yep. Looks like the decaying process is speeding up.” I crouch down and scoop up her eyeball. “Don’t worry; we can put it back in.”
Her one eye widens, and her jaw drops. “Did you just pick up my eyeball?”
“What? It’s not that big of a deal. I even occasionally eat eyeballs for breakfast.” I wipe the eyeball on the side of my pant leg before stepping forward. “Don’t worry, though; I’m not big on the taste of zombie eyes. They have too much of a sulfur aftertaste.”
Her one eye blinks. “I’m not sure whether to feel relieved or utterly grossed out by what you just said.”
“Considering your eye just fell out of your head, I’d go with relieved.” As I remove her hand from her eye socket, she flinches. “Relax. I’m just going to pop it back in.”
She worries her bottom lip with her teeth. “Doesn’t this gross you out?”
I shake my head as I line the eyeball with the socket. “Why would it?”
She shrugs. “Because everyone else I know probably would’ve thrown up by now.”
“Demons don’t get grossed out by things like lost eyeballs.”
“Does anything gross you out?”
I waver my head from side to side. “Creature
s holding hands. Declarations of undying affections. Oh, and unicorns.”
“Unicorns?” She smashes her lips together forcefully.
“You think that’s funny?” I question with my head slanted to the side.
“Kind of.” She takes a steady breath. “I mean, they’re just horses with horns. What’s so gross about that?”
“Have you ever seen a unicorn in its natural form?”
“I thought that was their natural form.”
I shake my head. “Nope. The whole pretty pony with a horn look is just glamour.”
Her lips form an O.
“And what’s beneath that glamour,” I continue, holding up her eyeball, “makes this look like a decadent dessert.”
Her nose crinkles. “How come I didn’t know about this glamour unicorn thing?”
“Because you come from a magical town that likes to pretend there’s actually gold at the end of a rainbow, instead of a rabid leprechaun waiting to eat you. Now, hold still.”
She nods then traps her breath in her chest. I dip my head to eyelevel with her eye socket then push the eyeball back into place.
“There.” I dust my hands off and step back, angling my head to the side as I examine my handiwork. “Looks like you never even lost it.”
She delicately touches her fingertip to her eyeball. “It’s not crooked or anything?”
I shake my head. “Nope. It looks perfect.”
She frowns. “Well, I highly doubt perfect since it’s a zombie eye.”
“Oh, will you quit sulking about your zombie-ness? Your eye looks perfect. And the rest of you isn’t that bad, either.” Before she can respond, I back away toward the Death Walkers. “Now hold still and let the Death Walkers freeze you so we can get on to the next step before you end up losing more important parts.” I wink at her.
Her cheeks flush for a second time. Again, the display of emotion throws me off. Zombies aren’t supposed to blush or cry tears or laugh. Although, I haven’t seen her do that yet. It makes me wonder what else she’s capable of, what sort of zombie she truly is, and who or what in the demon hell created her.