He flashed me a look full of disappointment. “Very well. When you’re curious about your condition, you’ll have to come to me.” He tossed a card out the window, and as the paper floated to the ground, the SUV sped away.
Chapter 7
Of Rotting Monsters and Tasty Men
Normally, I would have hunted Cole down and told him what had happened. Today, I decided to tell Mr. Ankh.
On my way to his office, I ran into Nana. “Ali, honey, I have a surprise—”
“I’m sorry, Nana,” I rushed out. “But I have to talk with Mr. Ankh about something. Rain check?”
Disappointment clouded her features. “All right. No problem.”
Instant guilt. I’d hurry here and spend the rest of the day with her. I marched into the office without an invitation, a first for me, and shut and locked the door. He glanced up from the stack of papers on his desk.
He had dark hair and eyes, like Reeve, but he was almost always tense and formal, and I rarely left his presence feeling better about my circumstances. Right now, though, he was my only choice.
“Good,” he said, “I’ve been wanting to talk to you. Sit down.”
I obeyed, saying, “There’s been an incident.”
“All right,” he acknowledged, folding his fingers together. “How bad is it? Does it need to be covered up?”
“No, nothing like that. It’s just—”
“So there are no dead bodies?”
“No.”
“No zombies?”
“No. Just—”
“Then listen,” he said, once again cutting me off. “I’ve been told you’ve been cleaning up the house and only eating bagels and cream cheese. That isn’t acceptable, Miss Bell. I pay someone to take care of the house, and I have enough food for an army.”
“That’s wonderful, but I’m not going to take advantage of you. Now. We went to a strip mall today and—”
“Does your grandmother know what you’re doing? How you’re starving yourself?”
“I’m not starving myself,” I said. Then I told him what had gone down, described the SUV, the man who’d hoped to talk to me and what I’d done to his tire. The only detail I kept to myself was the business card currently burning a hole in pocket.
I’d grabbed it with every intention of handing it over to Mr. Ankh, but now, peering into his stern features, I just...couldn’t.
When you’re curious about your condition...
Did the man know what I didn’t? Did he know what was wrong with me?
How could he know?
And what would Mr. Ankh say if I told him about the smudges and the heartbeat and the hunger? How many tests would he want to run? Would he lock me away?
He popped his jaw. “That is Anima’s M.O. I’ll put a security detail on—”
“Oh, no,” I said, tugging at the sleeves of my shirt, making sure my bandages were covered. “No one’s following me around.” No telling what they’d see me do.
He frowned at me. “Privacy means nothing in the face of safety, Miss Bell. I’m sure your grandmother would agree with me.”
Low blow. One I ignored. “No guards,” I insisted. “Reeve might notice them and start asking more questions.”
He relented. As I’d known he would.
He really did love his daughter.
For the first time, I began to wonder about this man’s life...his past. “The woman you mentioned... The one who had the anxiety disorder... Was she Reeve’s mom?”
“Yes.” His tone was short, clipped, letting me know he’d said all he wanted to say on that subject.
We don’t always get what we want. “Did she know about the zombies? Is that why she was afraid?”
He hammered his elbows into the desk, rattling the entire piece. “Yes, Miss Bell. Yes. She knew about them, but she couldn’t see them, and so she began to imagine them around her every second of every day, and it was more than she could deal with. Finally she killed herself.”
How awful. Poor Mrs. Ankh, to feel death was the only way. Poor Mr. Ankh, left to pick up the pieces. Poor Reeve, a little girl drowning in sorrow and confusion. No wonder he insisted she be kept in the dark. He didn’t want the same fate to befall her. “I’m sorry.”
He waved my sympathy away. “The past is the past, Miss Bell.”
Such easy words to offer—but was he actually living them? “Just so you know, I saw a rabbit cloud in the sky. Zombies could be coming out tonight.”
He arched a brow, saying, “And you want in the rotation.”
I’d told myself I wasn’t ready to see Cole again. I’d even questioned my ability to fight. And still I found myself saying, “I do.” I couldn’t waste an opportunity to slay my enemy.
Mr. Ankh grilled me about my health. Was I feeling okay? Had I had any moments of weakness? Had I had another panic attack?
I answered the first two bluntly but sidestepped the last one. “Look, I was born to kill zombies. So, tonight, that’s exactly what I’m going to do. Whether you’re on board or not. And yes, that’s a threat.”
He grinned at me, but it wasn’t a nice grin. “You can’t do anything if you’re unconscious.”
He would drug me? “Try,” was all I said.
He studied me for a long while before sighing, nodding stiffly. “Fine. You’re determined. I get it. And this time, I’ll let you have your way. You’ll have to hurry, though. The slayers are at Cole’s gym, and rotations are about to be decided for the week.”
Crap. My day with Nana would have to wait. “Slight problem,” I said. “I don’t have a license or a car.”
He released another sigh. “Be ready in five. My driver will be waiting out front.”
“Thanks, Mr. Ankh.” I stood and walked to the door.
“By the way, I wasn’t teasing about the cleaning and the food.”
“I didn’t think you were.” And he would learn I hadn’t been teasing, either. I paused and glanced back at him. “I admire the way you’re protecting Reeve, I do, but all our secrets are hurting her. She’s already suspicious, and those suspicions are making her unhappy. There’s got to be another way.”
“Miss Bell,” he said, slamming his pen on the desk.
I knew a very stern lecture was coming, so I hurried into the hall.
In my room, I changed into battle-ready clothing and gathered everything I’d need. More daggers, a syringe filled with the antidote, a pocketful of throwing stars and my phone.