When we reached the end of a long, narrow hallway, Kat stopped in front of the only door. I was shocked to my soul when she pulled a lock pick out of her bra and shoved the tip inside the tumbler.
“Do you always carry one of those?”
“Of course. Frosty once told me I had to be prepared for anything. I said, ‘What about being kidnapped, locked inside a room and held prisoner as some weirdo’s idea of the perfect female?’ And he said, ‘Totally,’ then showed me how to free myself if that happened. He refused to tell me how he’d learned, though.” A twist of her wrist, and a click sounded. “Aha!” A little push and the door sailed open, welcoming us inside.
I allowed her to pull me past the entrance. I’d find out what had caused the odor, make sure there was nothing nefarious going on, and then I would force Kat to bail with me.
A few steps in, she released me, held out her arms and spun. “Well, what do you think?”
I studied our new location. No longer was the floor carpeted with thick, soft fibers. There was dark, dank tile. There were several metal tables, some with cuffs for wrists and ankles—and there were drains underneath every single one of them.
I thought…I thought she’d brought me to some sort of…torture chamber.
Trembling, I reached into my purse and palmed the blade. Before I could talk myself out of searching for clues, I slipped past her, doing my best to hide the metal behind my arm.
“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” she whispered. Whispered, yeah, but still her voice echoed.
“Probably not,” I muttered.
“So you don’t think Reeve’s dad needs to buy a case of Febreze? Well, then, do you think he does secret surgeries down here?”
“I think it’s none of your business,” a male voice boomed from behind us.
Oh…crap.
I felt like a Tilt-A-Whirl as I jerked around, facing off with the intruder. He was only a little taller than me, which put him at just above five-eleven. His pin-striped suit did not look anything like the suits my dad had sometimes worn to church the few times he’d attended. He had salt-and-pepper hair, skin tanned to a deep bronze and weathered with a few thin lines, though not unattractively.
For an older guy, he was pretty hot—and he was eyeing us like we were rats in a cage.
With my free hand, I grabbed Kat by the forearm and shoved her behind me, and maybe I used too much force because she stumbled and humphed. “Who are you?” I demanded, more with bravado than anything.
“I am the owner of this house,” he said at the same time Kat muttered, “Say hello to Reeve’s dad.”
Kat peeked out from around me and waved. “Hey, Mr. Ankh.”
His jaw clenched as he nodded in greeting. “Kathryn.” To me, he snapped, “And who are you?”
You’ve faced zombies. This is nothing. “I’m Reeve’s friend.”
“Yes, I guessed that. What is your name and what are you doing down here with Kathryn?”
“We were just looking for a quiet place to talk, honest,” Kat said, and even I wanted to believe her. All that innocence in her tone seemed impossible to fake.
Footsteps sounded, and I was shocked to see Dr. Wright enter the room behind Mr. Ankh. “You shouldn’t have allowed your daughter to—” Lips glossed a bright red clamped shut when she spotted me. Her eyes narrowed to tiny slits. “Alice Bell, what are you doing down here?”
Kat clutched and twisted my shirt, whispering, “Is that Dr. Wright?”
Neither adult turned to her but continued to focus on me.
“It’s Ali,” I said.
“I am still waiting for a confession,” Mr. Ankh said. “After all, you are the one who arrived with—” a sneer “—Justin Silverstone, are you not?”
“Justin Silverstone?” Dr. Wright asked with a clear flare of dislike. Every day she’d wrapped her slight frame in some sort of business suit. Tonight she wore a soft, flowing dress completely at odds with her take-charge demeanor. Was she the new girlfriend of the week? “Cole won’t be happy about that.”
Kat pinched me on the arm.
I wasn’t sure what she wanted. I was too confused. Dr. Wright, the principal of Asher High, was hanging out with Reeve’s father in a room full of dried blood and gurneys, but her biggest concern was my escort?
Okay. She might care more about her students than her social life…even though her social life might just get her killed. Unless…had Mr. Ankh kept zombies down here?
Yes, I decided a moment later, he had. That smell was too distinctive to spring from trash or mold.
Did Cole know about this?
I didn’t have to think about that for long, either. Yes, Cole knew. Otherwise he wouldn’t have let his entire crew take the night off and come here, not even with the Blood Lines. This had to be a safe place for zombie slayers. Which meant Reeve’s father was on our side. Which meant Dr. Wright was on our side, too, since she was with him, here, in this room.
And if all the slayers hated Justin—and they must, considering the way they’d reacted to the mere mention of his name—I had to wonder if he was pro-zombie or something.
What could Mr. Ankh possibly do down here, though? Study the zombies? Experiment on them? Was that even possible?
“Ali, you have some explaining to do, and I will not tolerate lies, nonanswers or evasions,” Dr. Wright said, her dark gaze trying to X-ray its way to my brain. “Did Justin tell you to come down here?”
Well, well. There was confirmation of my suspicions. “No, he didn’t. And now I’d like to return to the party with Kat.” No reason to get her tangled up in this. Cole and crew would blame me. “We’re very sorry to have disturbed you.”
“You’re not walking away that easily,” she said right before Mr. Ankh said, “Very well, you may go. But if anything like this happens again…”
You’ll regret it, I finished for him. “It won’t.”
Dr. Wright had stiffened after Mr. Ankh overrode her decision, but she didn’t protest.
I reached back and grabbed Kat’s hand. She remained silent as I dragged her out. Both Mr. Ankh and Dr. Wright moved aside to allow us to pass. I held my dagger tight and maintained as much distance as possible, just in case I’d miscalculated and either one of them decided to attack.
“Classic,” Kat said with a giggle the moment we reached the top of the stairs. “That was so wild! You were all, I don’t care what you do to us, I’m strong and brave. And they were all, like, oh, we’ll do plenty, we’re stronger.”
By tomorrow, when she retold the events to others—and she would—I would have punched Reeve’s dad in the face and tied Dr. Wright to a chair. True story.
“What do you think they were doing together? Because Dr. Wright is soooo not his type.”
Discussing recent zombie activity? Planning a zombie attack? “Wish I knew,” I replied honestly.
In the distance, I heard shrill chanting, my ears twitching as I tried to listen. Was that…fight fight fight?
Kat must have heard it, too, because she paused and clapped. “Five dollars says it’s Cole.”
“No way,” I said, even though I suspected the worst. If you don’t go inside, you’ll be eating your teeth. You know I can make you do it. I have before.
“Are you kidding? It’s always Cole.”
We raced through the house. When we reached the living room, the cheers were so loud I cringed. I shoved my way through the crowd, only to discover that yes, Kat was right. It was always Cole.
The fight du jour? Cole versus Justin. Punches were being thrown and furniture overturned as the two rolled and flew throughout the circle of chanting teenagers. Justin had rage on his side, but Cole had experience and brute force.